#Eliza answered a thing

[kaleigh-color]

More spicy selfies

I only dress up for concerts apparently. This was for the Eliza mclamb show and when I say I sobbed I truly did it was so beautiful.

#ask #answered #asked #asks #anon #me #my face #selfie #the show was so good too #doing fine got me #but older I was like full on sobbing #i think Eliza mclamb hits me in my like emotional healing #like she talks about things I relate so heavily too #this is what you wanted on some spicy photos yeah was me talking about trauma #anyways this outfit was a banger #the blue on blue #hot #i can’t wait for summer I’ll have such good outfits #cute

[true-blue-sonic]

How would The Councilmembers react to werehog Silver? What would each of them think of this new form?

Sheer unshakeable terror would probably be their first thought, haha. These people are used to nothing XD

For a more serious answer, the Council really is used to basically nothing: I figure that how the higher-ranked the scientist, the less they are taught about the suffering and problems of everyone with lower ranks (which is many people; I've tentatively put the amount of Teal Classers at around 80-85% of the populace, and the scientists themselves are also split up in many different ranks based on intelligence, of which the lower ranks also contain the most people. These scientists do live a better life than Teal Classers... but not at all by a lot.). It's completely opposite to the Council leader's interest that the smartest people in his city know there's civilians struggling and begin using their intellect to help out. Also, Onyx City kind of runs on unethical experiments, so the less his scientists see their snatched-off-the-streets subjects as sapient creatures deserving of respect, the better. But that does mean that Eliza, Albert and Porter already had to get tremendously used to the mere idea of being around Silver, a Teal Classer who simply does not care for all these unspoken societal rules and actively opposes them on top. For him to become like taller and twice as big and wayyyyyy more fluffy and even more aggressive than usual will shock them completely!

I honestly think Gold would manage the best out of the Councilmembers: she knows Silver most closely, and even if she's terrified of his new form at first, it takes minutes at best for her to see he's still mostly just himself. Plus, I think she'd secretly find it funny that he's finally taller than she is, haha! Sonic's Werehog form is 125 centimeters... so assuming Silver is the same, he's got 5 centimeters (2 inches) over her. He'll take that!! I figure Porter and Albert both share second place in dealing with this situation: Porter's the Councilmember who's best at remaining calm and rational in a socially constructive sense (Albert is calm and rational too but he's terrible at communicating with people), so he'll be able to ask Silver questions and figure out what's going on best. Albert meanwhile figures that this might as well happen amidst the absolute tomfoolery he finds himself exposed to on a daily basis (he's been Eliza's best friend for years), so he can ignore the strangeness of it all easily enough to focus on finding a solution. And Eliza, who is not at all a paragon of calm and rationality... Once she stops screaming, I think she'd be the most vocal about how fluffy Silver has become XD She's definitely gonna be the loudest about how surprised she is and will take the longest to accept Silver isn't going to eat her now, but once she does, I think she might be his main supporter in making sure he doesn't feel bad about everything that's been happening. Mostly because she thinks werewolves are cool and that Silver's also cute like this (Eliza likes cute things, which Silver tentatively falls under, except the fact that he's down to throw hands with basically anyone at any given moment if they tick him off enough. This includes Eliza, who wouldn't know what a verbal filter is if it slammed right into her face.), but she does genuinely want to help him out. Porter also thinks Silver's increased fluffiness is cute, but he's at least got the right idea that a teenage boy might not be so willing to hear such things, lol. And Albert is Albert: if Eliza were to ask him whether he also thinks Silver is cuter now, he'd just shrug. The right choice, because then Silver shows off his long stretchy arms and punches a hole into a wall by accident and it is right back to sheer unshakeable terror for a bit! XD XD

#thanks for the ask‚ answering it was lots of fun! <3 #Silver has absolutely fought Eliza before (well‚ 'fought') #he's just talking to Oliver like 'yeah I threw hands with Miss Councilwoman she lasted for literally just two seconds' #the Council has zero fighting skills because they were never thought anything like it since it was deemed unnecessary #the first thing Silver does is teach them very basic selfdefense because the Council is *not* popular with like 99% of the citizens at firs #that doesn't work out too well (Porter is 63 and has a leg injury for example) but the others semi-manage... somewhat! XD

[whattheheckmidoriya]

☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favourite blogs. It's time to spread positivity! 💖

Eliza!!🥺🥺💖 Thank you so much for this— this is so sweet!!

How have you been lately? Hopefully not too busy!💖

I just finished with my midterms, but still have some work to do for next week! Hopefully I'll pace myself adequately and won't be stressing too much🥰

#sweet things♡ #eliza♡ #pau answers

[personinthepalace]

Hi, I saw on your post /668440219491729408 that you were wondering about the meaning of that Selfie scene. Eliza was blowing a kiss that was supposed to be for Freddy, but Henry thought it was for him. So after Henry caught Eliza's kiss, he tried to recover from embarrassment by making a fist pump to hide it :)

Ahh I see! Poor Henry- he thought her kiss was for him but then saw Freddy catch it as well and then figured it was for him 🥺 Thank you for explaining it :)

#this scene!! #poor henry #closest thing to a heliza kiss that we got on the show haha #henry higgs #eliza x henry #heliza #eliza dooley #freddy #selfie #selfie abc #selfieignite #answering asks in the palace

[chilwcll]

do we think if the place i wanted to go on holiday to soon is affected by wildfires right now i’ll get my money back? 😄😄😄

#bc this is really stressing my out right now #so much that i cannot fall asleep #like ❤️ if i don’t get my money back and eventually would have to pay money on top for not going because it’s literally dangerous to go ther #right now i would actually just jump off a bridge like #ik i’m being insensitive as well right now because obv the most important thing is that everyone is safe right now but #naturally i’m still very stressed out by the thought of paying for a holiday i won’t be able to go on 😄😄 #also sorry for saying ‘right now’ about a hundred times #and i know it probably depends on the hotel and all that itself and you can’t give me a definite answer but #a bit reassurance would be great 😄 #or just prepare me for the worse would be great as well #actually i just hope that eliza sees this and gives me some hope bc i don’t want to annoy her by asking her directly 😄😄🫶🏻 #but i know she’s here rn so hi #help me please #like this would’ve been my first ever holiday too and if this ends up in the worst possible case i will never even bother to try to go on #holiday again #i hate 2023 i just want it to end mate #jokes on me 2024 will probably be even worse

[lucidfairies]

drummer girl [a.a]

pairing: punk drummer!abby x reader

summary: dina dragged you to a bar for a concert, and you naturally thought it would be lame as hell... you were wrong!

warnings: sub!top!abby, dom!bottom!reader, poc friendly (if it's not lemme know ASAP), begging, praise kink, face riding, cunnilingus [r], mommy kink uh [r], squirting, tribbing AHHHH, orgasm denial, masturbation

wc: 3.6k

collaborators: @enbesbian / @enbesbians

"please, I will seriously pay you to come with me," dina begged, following you around the kitchen as you put away dishes. "you know how important this is to me, I can't just go alone!! I need you there. you're my wing woman."

you sighed, running your hands down your face. "dina, this is my one night off a week. why would I want to spend it at some bar seeing a band that I don't even like?" she frowned.

"how would you know that you don't like them if you've never listened to them before? just come with. you spend all your time at home and that's not how a young, beautiful college student should be spending her life." you rolled your eyes at her enthusiasm.

"look.. if I agree to come with you-" she squealed, "you're doing the dishes all month. deal?" dina clapped her hands and grinned.

"perfect. deal. now, let's go pick out your outfit." she grabbed your arm and pulled you in the direction of your bedroom, skipping all the way there while you walked.

you and your roommate dina had lived together for two years, ever since you met each other on campus. the first year was in a dorm... but that didn't really count. ever since then, you had become best friends, and essentially did everything together.

the first time dina mentioned this concert was two weeks ago, when she casually brought up that she was talking to a rockstar (her words). rockstar was a stretch, seeing as the band only had a few thousand followers on insta, but they were big on tiktok.

now, she was claiming that you had to come so that it wouldn't be awkward if her and this rockstar met up backstage and talked, and she wouldn't take no for an answer - no matter how much you said it.

that's how you got here, dolled up in cargos and a corset, going to see a band that you've never heard of with your asshole of a roomie. at least she blew your hair out for you and assisted with your makeup.

"jesus dina, it's packed. I thought you said this was gonna be a lowkey thing." you frowned. she didn't even bother answering, just locked her hand in yours and tugged you to the front of the crowd.

"you'll survive if you stop whining, y/n. just relax. you're way to wound up, I should get you a blunt." before you could ask her not to leave, she was gone. you didn't want a blunt, at least not right now - dealing with this many people high would probably give you a seizure.

the lights dimmed before dina got back, and when she did, she had two fruity drinks with her. "drink up, mama. tonight's gonna be so much fun."

the band was rock, and their lead singer and guitarist was the girl that dina was drooling over. her name was something like ellie, or eliza. you couldn't really remember, and the drink that she gave you was strong as shit.

maybe she was right, maybe you did just need to loosen up. by the time the drink was finished, you were grabbing her hands and dancing to the music with her, letting the alcohol take over your senses for a little while.

dina spun you, and while you were mid spin, you caught the eyes of someone on stage, and suddenly you felt incredibly sober, even if you were still buzzing. you let dina dance with herself for a minute as you tried to catch another glimpse of the drummer, but ellie was moving so much that you could barely see anything.

finally, ellie moved to a stationary microphone to play a slower song, and you could see the drummer in full view; hair pulled off her face revealing her blue eyes, high cheek bones, sharp jaw. she was in a loose muscle tee, and had a few layered necklaces from what you could tell, and she was looking at you.

you slapped dina's arm lightly and she turned to you, smiling like she had just downed four more cups of whatever you were drinking. "who's their drummer?" you yelled.

"that's abby," she yelled back, "you can meet her later." she went back to dancing, while you turned back to the drummer, abby, who was now focused on her music as she sang chords with ellie.

when her portion of the song was over, she looked back up for a moment and locked eyes with you again. you were truly the only one she was looking for, out of the few hundred people in the crowd. there was just something so perfect about the way the light hit you, making your face glow and your body look exquisite. you looked like an angel.

the concert went on for another hour or two, you weren't exactly tracking. all you knew were abby's eyes, and you didn't seek to be knowledgeable about anything else but her. you had to know her. had to have her.

when ellie sat her guitar down at quarter past eleven, you felt like you were being stabbed. the night was over. people were leaving. the band was walking off stage. "will you stay here while I go talk to ellie?"

"I thought I came to make it less awkward when you talked to ellie," your eyebrows knit in confusion.

"please don't hate me but I lied to get you out of the house," she was already backing up, "I'm gonna go do adult things with her so.. stay here. you're my ride." she turned on her heel and sped back stage while you scoffed. she was dead when she got back.

you slid into one of the booths and scrolled on your phone for a while, actually following the band's insta and tiktok. your phone was dying, and you needed the charge to get home, so you sighed and sat it down, staring at your hands while you picked your nails.

"did your friend leave you?" you looked up as you heard a voice, undoubtedly directed towards you. and. fuck. it was her - the drummer who you were making eyes with for three hours, who you were convinced you were never going to see again.

"she's in the back hooking up with ellie," abby snickered, cheeks a little rosey. you noticed some equipment she must've sat down, and you wondered how long she had been standing there before you acknowledged her.

"yeah, that checks. the door was locked when I tried to get my stuff." a silence fell between the two of you, and you tried to think of anything you could say.

"you had a really nice show," you broke the silence, smiling nervously, "I've never heard you guys play before tonight. it was crazy good." she stuffed one of her hands in her pocket and rubbed the back of her neck.

"thanks so much," she was practically giggling at the compliment. "uh, I gotta put some stuff away and head out.. d'ya think I could get your number?" you took her phone quickly, putting your number and name into it. you handed it back to her, smiling.

"abby, let's fucking go already," a man yelled into the bar from outside, looking at her with an annoyed expression.

she broke your eye contact to flip him off, then smiled. "I should probably go.. I'll text you." she picked up her bags and took them out to a van, then got it. dina came out seconds later, hair disheveled and makeup smudged.

"I don't wanna know." you said, sliding out of your booth and walking towards the car, your arm over her shoulders and her arm around your waist.

- - -

an hour later, your phone buzzed. ideally, you should've been asleep, but you couldn't get over the prior interaction. how could someone get over that? a hot drummer, with arms for days (something you couldn't see on stage) and the prettiest face, wanted your number.

hey it's abby :)

you responded with your name and asked her how her night was, and the following hours were spent talking about random things until the sun came up. she told you about this annoying guy in her band, talked about her tattoos, explained why she became a drummer. you were essentially head over heels.

it wasn't until late in the morning that she asked you to dinner, but that hardly mattered. she asked you to dinner. abby. the insanely hot drummer.

"dina, help," you ran into her room, throwing your phone onto her bed and running your hands through your hair, tugging at your roots. "abby asked me out. I haven't gone on a date in years, what do I wear? what do I say?"

"abby as in.. drummer abby? ellie's abby?" you nodded and she gaped. "girl, you have game!! everyone wants abby and she wants you. this is big news. where are you guys going?" dina got out of her bed, dragging you back to your room to assist in your tragedy.

you weren't going anywhere fancy, just some pizza place, but dina seemed to have all the answers to every question. she gave you baggy jeans and a cute crop to wear, helping you style your hair and giving you a kiss on the cheek before she left to let you do your makeup.

"I would hit," dina joked when you came out of your bedroom. "but for real, you look so hot. she's so lucky." you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help yourself from grinning. you and abby didn't halt your texting after she asked you out, and the more you learned about her, the more you liked her.

"does the jacket ruin the outfit?" you asked, pouting in the body mirror in the hallway.

"no babe, you're just overthinking. be safe, no sex without protection, talk about boundaries, if you need me call me. I love you, have fun!" dina pushed you out the door and shut it behind you, prohibiting you from second guessing yourself.

and dinner went... better than anything you could've thought. somehow, every bad thought, every intrusive thought, just relaxed around her. you weren't worried that she wasn't going to like your outfit, especially after the way she praised your body like a temple. you weren't worried about anything.

did it count as u-hauling if you absolutely undoubtedly knew she was the one?

she insisted on driving you home, claiming that Ubers were way too unsafe for such a pretty girl like you, and spent the drive back to your house singing along to music on the radio.

when she arrived at your apartment building, she walked you up to the door, blushing like a mad woman and smiling. "I.. um, we.. we have a gig next week, same place and time if you.. y'know.. wanna come."

"I'll be there. front row." you smiled, taking a small step forward. "is this when we say goodnight?" you giggled. she cupped your jaw and leaned in, lips hovering over yours.

"can I kiss you, y/n?" her mouth quirked into a smirk as you pressed your lips into hers. you felt that smirk under your lips disappear as your tongue breeched her lips, and your teeth took ahold of her bottom lip. after a while, she pulled away, cheeks still red. "sorry.. if we keep going I might start moaning."

"hm," you shrugged, "I'll see you next week, drummer girl."

- - -

dina was on the phone, hyping you up for tonight's concert and apologizing for being unable to come. she was away for this week, visiting family, which conveniently left your house empty. it wasn't the first date anymore, right? that meant it was okay to do things now, and you were certainly thinking about it.

"girl you should get some action tonight!" dina squealed, "it's the perfect night. she'll be all hot and sweaty, and the house will be empty."

"d, we've been dating for a week. we're not even official." you laughed, propping the phone up as you touched up your hair and makeup.

"you're lesbians, babe. you could've never talked before and be fucking right now." you grinned, getting up and giving dina a full fit check. tonight's fit was parachute pants, a tube bra, and a bomber jacket.

"okay, I gotta leave. see you soon, my love." you kissed the screen then hung up, calling your Uber and heading to the bar. just like last time, the joint was packed, and it was incredibly harder to get to the front of the crowd than last time.

abby waved from between her drums, smiling. you waved back, smiling the same. she looked so good; hair down, pasties hardly covering anything but her nipples, tits on display. you couldn't wait to see her up close, have her pressed against you as she kissed you.. or other things.

they played spectacularly, blowing the minds of everyone who didn't know how amazing they were. when ellie gave closing remarks, you instinctively moved towards the door to backstage, waiting for someone to let you in.

ellie came out, smiling at you as she held the door open. you slipped in, finding abby in one of the backrooms packing up her stuff. "hey baby," you shut the door behind her, coming towards her. she looked up, grinning at you and pulling you in for a kiss.

you pulled away, taking in her appearance. the pasties covered less up close, and her abs, which you hadn't known she had, were perfectly sculpted and the waistband of her boxers were showing off from under her cargos, and she looked absolutely delicious. but aside from that, her blonde happy trail was leading to places you had to see.

"did you enjoy the show?" she was blushing again, noticing your gaze on her body.

"yeah, but I enjoyed the view more." you pulled her in again, kissing her harsher than before, running your hands down her waist and over her stomach. she gasped into your mouth when you ran your fingers above and between the ridges of her abs. "wanna go back to mine?"

"hell yeah I do." and that's how you ended up in her car, with her hand on your thigh, as you directed her to your apartment. you guys stumbled in, trying to get in as fast as possible. you kicked off your shoes and pressed your mouth to hers again, pulling at her neck as you stumbled towards your bedroom.

she fell back, pulling you into her lap and kissing your neck. hickies traced her path as she grabbed everything, gently grinding your hips or tugging at your shirt. the moment you ran your hands over her tits, she started whining like a bitch in heat. "please touch me, please put your hands on my tits baby, please," she pressed her nose into your jaw, moaning when you peeled the pasties off and started flicking her nipples.

her back arched against your hand, nipples clearly sensitive. she got louder when you kissed her chest, then took her nipple in your mouth, grabbing at your hair and trying to hold your head there. "does that feel good, sweetheart?" you asked, almost condescending because everyone in the room knew the answer.

"s'good. so good," she kissed your neck softly as she ran her hands over your sides and pulled your tube top up and off, letting your tits spill out. her tongue was on them in no time, licking and sucking and nipping. "please top me," she mumbled once she kissed her way back up to your neck.

"what was that, abs?" you giggled when she whimpered.

"want you to top me, mommy." you stood, shimmying off your pants and underwear and pulling your hair up.

"on your knees in front of me, angel." she hurried up, kneeling in front of you as you positioned yourself on the bed. she placed her hands on the sides of your thighs and pulled you forward slightly, kissing the inside of your thighs. "wanna eat my pussy?"

"yes, please let me," you grabbed her by her hair and pushed her head into your cunt, hearing her muffled moans. she licked a fat stripe up to your clit, sucking it into her mouth and licking harshly.

"fuck.. you were made to get on your knees, huh?" your voice came out as a pant, and you groaned when she moaned into your pussy. her boxers were weeping, drenched in how you made her feel. it was like she was being punched in a good way, in a way that made her clit ache and beat.

she continued to suck your clit as her middle finger gathered your slick and pushed into you, whining again at the easy intrusion. it's like she was getting off on getting you off, and you were living for it. but you definitely weren't going to let her cum until you'd had your fill.

when she added a second finger, your stomach was already flipping. she curled them up, matching her finger speed with the speed she was sucking your clit, and you felt the familiar tingle in your legs, that shot up to your stomach. "gonna come," you moaned, letting your head fell back as you saw stars.

she milked every last drop, waiting until you were absolutely finished to pull her fingers out. you cocked your eyebrow and almost instantly she sucked your cum off her fingers, eyes blown and dark. "what do you want, abby?" you asked, gently wrapping your hand around her throat so that she looked up at you.

"want you to sit on my face," she swallowed hard, "please, I can make you feel so good, I promise I'll make you feel good," you were definitely nervous, but you complied, letting her adjust and lay back on your bed, beckoning for you to climb over.

you placed your thighs on either side of her head and hovered, watching as she admired your pussy. her eyes were wide but the blue had almost turned grey, absolutely entranced by you. "you look so pretty, don't you?" you cooed.

you ran your hands down your body, spreading your lips with your fingers so that she could see just how wet you were. her jaw dropped, and you could feel her warm breath against you. you messed with your clit for a moment above her before sinking two of your fingers right into your hole.

you fucked yourself slowly, moaning as you hit your g-spot over and over. abby was just watching, eagerly waiting until you let her have her turn. you fucked yourself right until you came, pulling your fingers out and letting it drip onto her face.

"I need you to let me fuck you," she huffed, eyes still focused on your center as she stuck out her tongue. she finally looked up at you, so you tangled your hands in her hair and sunk down, letting her do the rest.

you ground your hips against her tongue until she slowed your hips and maneuvered her hands to rub your clit with her thumb, tongue fucking you as deep as she could.

she was mumbling incoherent things into your cunt, whining about how she never wanted to stop eating you out. you briefly pulled up, letting her get air. "you taste so good," she moaned, panting, "never wanna stop," the last word got cut off as you sat back down.

abby was having the time of her life - head tightened between the thighs of an absolutely gorgeous girl as you rode her face. but she was so fucking wet, and you had yet to do anything but touch her tits, and she was desperate for you. she needed you to tell her what to do and where to be.

your stomach flipped, the overstimulation from your last orgasm hitting you hard as you got close. "want me to come on your face, abby? wanna make a mess?" abby whimpered, vibrations pushing you over the edge.

after a few moments, you rolled off of her and fell next to her, breathing heavily. you sat up, moving between her legs. her stomach fluttered at the thought of cumming on your fingers or tongue. "you're soaking the sheets, princess." her hips bucked as you gently ran your thumb over her clit and down her slit.

you spread her legs then lifted one and straddled her hip, hovering again. "what-what are you doing?" she stuttered, but you didn't bother to answer as you lowered yourself down, cunts clashing as you rolled your hips forward. "fuck.. feels so good mommy,"

abby was practically screaming. her moans were almost shrieks at how heavenly it felt. she had never done something like this before, most of the time it was lowkey with her other partners and all they wanted was the strap - but this. this was different.

your pussy was covered in her slick and it felt phenomenal, she was pulsing and throbbing and so wet. you grabbed one of her tits harshly and pulled at her nipple, twisting it right as your clit landed against hers.

"I can't-I can't, fuck, m'gonna cum, m'gonna cum," abby wasn't ready for whatever feeling came next, but it was different - abrupt. there was no buildup, and it was probably the strongest orgasm she'd ever had.

you lifted off of her slightly, watching white pour from her swollen cunt, and giggling as she squirted. her head was back, chest rising and falling rapidly as she came down from her high. "you squirted all over my pussy, baby." she propped herself up on her elbows and blushed.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as you climbed off of her.

"you don't need to apologize, sweet girl," she smiled into your mouth as you kissed her, pulling her in by her neck. "we should go shower, what do you think?"

"sounds good to me." let's just say that the shower was not rated pg.

a/n: this ended lowkey super weird BUT that's okay. THANK YOU SO MUCH TO FERN FOR HELPING MEEEEE they literally wrote this guys. go check on the art this was based on and give it SO MUCH LOVE or I'll hurt u ty ty. next time she'll fuck u with her sticks 😚

#abby anderson #tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson smut #abby smut #abby anderson x reader #maya writes #abby the last of us #abby tlou #drummer abby

[natalievoncatte]

“Kara?”

She doesn’t answer. Lena’s presence doesn’t surprise her; Kara Danvers always knows where Lena Luthor is, at least as long as there’s a way for the sound of her heart to find Kara’s ears, no matter how soft or faint it might be. In her ruminations Kara thinks on that before she speaks. Even when they were at their worst, when they were hurting each other in every way that mattered, Kara would stop and listen.

It was a secret and sacred thing, a transgression that she would never admit. She would confess to scoping Lena out with her x-ray vision first. She’d never actually done that, but she’d pretend-admit before confessing that, sometimes, she’d listen to Lena’s heart as she slept and drift off to its slow and steady beat.

They’re by the sea, at the Danvers family home. It’s been a year since Alex and Kelly married and a small, core group have gathered here in this house by the waves to celebrate the anniversary. It’s just Alex and Kelly of course and Esme, and Lena and Kara. And Eliza.

She lives here, after all.

Nia and Brainy are in town in an AirBnB, and they’ve been by the house but are mostly doing their own thing. They’ll marry soon, Kara thinks. They have that air about them, the way that Alex and Kelly did before the proposal.

There is a sense of finality to it all that has fallen over Kara like the shadow of a passing storefront, and she sits where she can watch the ocean waves roll in, chin propped on arms resting on knees, curled up and watching the waves reach the high water mark and roll back.

Lena stands beside her now, seemingly unconcerned that Kara hasn’t answered her. This happens a lot now. There are companionable silences. Lena spends half her days in Kara’s home, working from a laptop on Kara’s kitchen counter while Kara writes at the kitchen table.

A lot has happened. Cat Grant offered her the role of EIC at CatCo; Kara rejected it. She’d mad furtive plans to reveal her identity, then canceled them. She’d told Cat but asked that it end there and Cat had respected it, then gone on an esoteric retreat at an eel farm or… something. Kara still submitted articles to CatCo but on a freelance basis, and she was submitting more articles elsewhere lately.

Actually, very little had happened. Kara had more time to really write, now. She put on her suit and flew out the window less and less, being less needed.

Lena sits down next to her and assumes a similar pose. Kara can’t help but look at her; she has never been able to resist looking at Lena Luthor. That too has changed. She doesn’t steal a glance this time, she studies, lets her gaze linger. She looks at the way the light of the golden hour plays with Lena’s soft, easy beauty. Her sort-of-roommate skipped putting on makeup this morning and her hair is down in a mop of air-dried dark curls, some of them lazily riding the breeze around her head. Some of it falls across her face and Kara fights the urge to sweep it back with a soft brush of her fingers.

Lena is beautiful. The warm light makes her pale skin glow, brings out the sparkle in her blue-green eyes, as deep as the sea they watch. There is a soft playful hint of a smile on her lips, but her brows are furrowed.

Kara thinks back to the last time she spoke to J’onn. She told the man, the closest thing she had left to a father in the world, about how she was wearing the cape less and working more, about Lena, about how Alex and Kelly seemed to be moving on, both of them now retired from the insanity of her lives and Alex actually planning to practice medicine.

“That’s what happens,” J’onn told her. “Things pass. Stories end. The great deeds are done, the archenemies vanquished, the miracles all performed. After that is just life.”

Kara wasn’t sure what that meant. In her life -almost sixty years, that she’d experienced as less than thirty- she’d packed in the experiences of a hundred lifetimes. She’d watched her world die, found her family, lost them, made a new one. She’d loved and lost and she’d even died- twice. She’d spent two eternities in her own personal hell.

Kara lets out a slow sigh. She’s still looking at Lena.

They have to have this conversation. Kara just doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. The problem is obvious. Lena and Kara had arrived this morning a few hours after Kelly and Alex, and found that Eliza had, as to be expected, already planned out who was bunking where.

“Alex and Kelly have Alex’s old room,” Eliza had told them, after hugging Lena. “Esme has Kara’s old room, and you and Lena can take the guest bedroom.”

When the words left her foster mother’s mouth, Kara’s heart raced. If Lena thought anything of it, she gave no sign. Kara was on the verge of panic.

Eliza had given the two of them a room with one bed. A small room, a shared room that would give two people no privacy.

Does she think we’re…?

Kara had considered the possibility before. She wasn’t blind or oblivious to a fluttering heart beat or lip bites or long stares, but…

“I’m scared,” Kara says, and she looks away.

She can feel Lena looking at her, gaze unwavering.

“What about?”

Kara swallows hard. She doesn’t know if Lena realizes what Eliza has assumed yet, if she’s put it together. She must have, because she came out here looking for Kara. Kara hadn’t run away exactly, but she had fled. She needed to think.

“One thing I’ve learned,” Kara says, “is that once you say something, you can’t un-say it. You can’t change the truth once it’s been told.”

Lena nods softly. She knows. They learned the same lesson from the same cruel trick.

“Do you know why I held on to my secret for so long?”

“You always said it was to protect me, and I didn’t accept that. Then when…” Lena pauses heavily, “when we moved on, I never really asked again.”

Kara swallows. “I lied. I did it for me.”

Lena says nothing.

“I was scared. I was afraid that once I told you, it would be the same with you as it was with everyone else. Once people know Kara is Supergirl, then Kara stops being Kara. Kara is just Supergirl’s real name.”

Kara’s breath hitches. She glances at Lena, who watches intently.

“I was wrong. I should have known better. I should have trusted you.”

“Yes,” said Lena. “You should have. I should have tried to understand you. To understand why instead of projecting my own insecurities onto your choice. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I forgave you.”

Waves crash in the silence.

“I would forgive you anything.”

“Even beating the last potsticker?”

“I’m serious, Lena.”

Lena sighs. “Are we going to talk about it?”

“You saw the room.”

Lena nods.

“Your mom seems to be assuming that we share a bed,” Lena says.

Kara swallows hard.

“The last time I was with Nia, she asked when I’m selling the penthouse, because she assumed I’ve been planning to move into your loft.”

Kara groped her knees because her hands are shaking. She grips her knees to stop them but it makes her legs shake instead.

Lena shifts closer, scooting across the grass. She’s not touching Kara but it feels like she is. Her touch becomes and threatens. They share space, the sea breeze passing over them as one. Lena looks at her through a tangle of inky curls and her eyes are infinite, searching Kara for something.

“I have deemed a dream,” Kara whispers. “I fear if I dream it too deeply I’ll suddenly wake, and when I wake it’ll be gone the way dreams always are, and it will fade as fast as any dream. The thought of losing it hurts so bad it makes it feel like my chest is caving in.”

Kara looks at Lena now. She looks so young, she is young. Her power suits and makeup and air of command and defiance all make her seem almost matronly but here with Kara that mask is gone and beneath it is her true self, her secret self that not even their friends see, a young girl who’s never been young.

Just like Kara.

“What if you woke up and the dream came true?”

“Sometimes,” Kara admits, “I wonder if you’re real. I used to dream of things when I floated in my pod and they seemed so real…”

“It’s real, Kara,” Lena whispers, soft and breathy. “It’s real and I’m not going anywhere. Nothing has to change. It’s just going to evolve. I know what you want to say and I’ve been scared of it too. What you’re saying, I can feel it in my soul… when the Luthors took me in, I used to dream that my mom was alive. I’d wake up smelling breakfast and hearing her sing and when I realized it was just a dream it was like she died again every morning.”

“I love you.”

Lena stares at her. Kara hears Lena’s steady pulse flutter and begins to stammer.

“I know I’ve said it before. I mean I’m in love with-“

Lena presses a finger to her lips.

“I know. Stop telling me and show me.”

Kara freezes, not sure what she meant. Lena twisted languidly and leaned towards her. Kara freezes briefly and then just lets go, moving on instinct. Using a little strength she pulls Lena into her lap, gently touches her chin, and tilts her back a touch, to kiss her.

It is at once tentative and soft and absolutely explosive. Kara forces back tears, as Lena embraces her with all her strength, molding herself to Kara as if she means to climb inside her. For all her urgency, her kiss is just as delicate, just as tender and exploratory.

It is as it has always been. They compliment each other perfectly, moving together without a word needed, Kara breaks the kiss because Lena needs air and lowers her to the grass, fully on top of her now, brushing lose strands of hair back from her face to kiss her again and again and again, each kiss ah apology, each brushing of lips a lament for time lost.

They could have been doing this for years.

Lena arches under her, grinding hungrily, kissing her furiously. She moans softly as Kara’s hands find bare skin and Kara murmurs a Kryptonian prayer against her lips, and her thighs rise to bracket Kara’s hips.

Kara feels it all. The desire, the lust, the need, and above all the unbridled joy. This is no dream. It’s real. It’s happening. It’s…

“Eww,” Alex says.

Kara snaps up, acutely aware that her hand is halfway up Lena’s now-askew top, and that Lena has leg-locked them together. Lena lets her head fall back and peers up at Alex.

“Eliza sent me to find you two. Dinner is ready,” Alex sighs, then turns, muttering,

“Get a room. Sheesh.”

Lena cracks first, unleashing a gale of laughter.

“Let me go,” she protests.

Kara lets her…. briefly. Play-wrestling ensues, and Lena just know that Kara is letting her win as they roll in the grass, but it no longer matters. Lena is flushed and grass-stained and joy burns her in her eyes and-

“Come on!” Alex bellows.

Kara helps her up, and they head for the house.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #love confessions #play wrestling #lena luthor x kara danvers #sad lena luthor #sad Kara danvers #let them kiss #hugging it out #soulmates #idiots in love

[zodiac--muses]

❛ holy fucking shit. just. holy shit. what the fuck. ❜

"Bold of you to assume I have a proper answer for you." Okay. Look. It's not her fault Eliza can just kinda walk off fatal injuries! It's a thing! That doesn't mean she has an answer for it either?? She is just kinda giving a deadpan stare to the person thought. Move along or continue to have a weird reaction. Choose! She's got things to do!

#ic: Eliza #smokes-and-bullets #answered #//Eliza going :/ at people is still one of my favourite things #//just 'yeah and?' #//She's so chill about these things now #//It's very funny to me

[corroded-hellfire]

Reading AYW things has me thinking about Eddie and Reader sniffing baby Eliza right after they bring her home and she’s got that fresh baby smell and Luke and Ryan are like “what are they doing?”

-cj. @cheesewritings

Just out here fueling my own baby fever. Please enjoy some lil baby Eliza 💕

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Less than a month has gone by since you’ve given birth to your and Eddie’s baby girl and yet so much has changed. Your hormones still give you mood swings from time to time. Eddie feels a bit more tired than usual between being up at odd hours of the night and trying to make sure you and Eliza are being taken care of while still keeping Ryan and Luke’s normal weekly routine going. The boys dote over their baby sister, but their sleep has definitely been impacted as well by the high-pitched wailing that comes just down the hall every night. One morning at breakfast before school, Luke fell asleep with half of his face in his bowl of Corn Flakes. 

But every small discomfort is well worth it to have the most beautiful baby girl you’ve ever seen. Her eyes already threaten to be as wide and doe-like as her father’s and you know you’ll be in deep trouble then. The soft wispy baby hairs on her head are similar in color to Eddie’s and her eyebrows have the same arch as his. Eliza absolutely has your nose and lips though. Your husband swears it’s as if God copy and pasted the features right from you to your daughter. Whenever she smiles though, you see her brothers. It may still be gas for her at this age, but the smile that upturns her pretty pink mouth is the spitting image of what you see on the faces of your sons. Munson charm in full effect. 

Evenings have been the most unpredictable so far. Will Eliza be awake? Asleep? Hungry? Fussy? Happy? Content? Not to mention what Eddie or the boys will be like.

Tonight is a good night, though. The boys are down the hall playing video games in Ryan’s room, and you and Eddie are cuddled up on the couch, Eliza snuggly cradled between your arms. Spider-Man is playing on the television, but you’d both forgotten about the movie the second that your daughter woke up, about fifteen minutes into the superhero flick. 

“Oh, look what a big mouth you have!” you coo as your daughter releases a tiny yawn, as if she hasn’t spent most of her day sleeping. You envy the hours of rest infants need. 

Eddie gazes down at her adoringly and the love shining in his eyes threatens to have your heart burst right through your ribs. It’s no secret that he’s always wanted a daughter and it’s still dizzying to think that you’re the one to give that to him. 

Soft, gurgling baby noises come from the baby’s mouth as she looks back and forth from you to her father. Both you and Eddie chuckle when she lifts her small arms above her head, then on the way down stops to stick her tiny fingers in her mouth. 

“God, she’s perfect,” Eddie muses, and you’re not sure if you were meant to hear it or he was just thinking aloud. Either way, he’s right. Every little thing about her has captured your heart. 

Slowly, Eddie leans forward and presses his lips to her soft forehead. 

“And she smells so good,” Eddie adds, making you giggle. 

“I know!” you agree. “What is it about that new baby smell?”

Gently, you lift Eliza so her head is more level with yours and Eddie’s. As one, you both lean in and inhale the scent wafting off your daughter. The baby doesn’t seem to mind, but it looks like she’s trying to figure out what you’re doing by the way she keeps looking at you. And she’s not the only one.

“What are they doing?” Luke mutters to his older brother from where they stand off to the side of the hallway connecting the living room to the rest of the house. 

“Smelling her,” Ryan answers with a shrug.

“Uh, why?” Luke furrows his brows as he watches the scene on the couch in confusion.

“Seeing if she needs a diaper change? I don’t know,” Ryan says.

“But they’re smiling. No one would ever smile around one of Eliza’s dirty diapers,” Luke says, having plenty of experience to back up that claim. 

“Maybe they washed her hair,” Ryan offers with another shrug. “I don’t know, I guess she just smells good.”

Luke’s quiet for a moment before he tilts his head up to look at his brother.

“Do they ever smell you?”

“No,” Ryan says with a sigh, this conversation already exhausting him. 

“Do they smell me when I’m not looking?” Luke asks, more rhetorical this time. 

“Yes, we all do,” Ryan goads. “We’ve been meaning to talk to you about taking more baths.”

The younger Munson boy glowers at his brother and stomps past him into the living room.

“Um, does she smell?” Luke asks as he approaches the couch.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, looking up at his son with a grin. “She’s got that new baby smell. C’mere.”

He gestures for Luke to lean in and smell the top of Eliza’s head. The boy does and when he pulls back, he’s smiling.

“She kind of smells like cheese.”

The words make you giggle, and you lay your head on your husband’s shoulder as Eddie cradles Eliza against his chest. 

“Ryan! She smells like cheese!”

“What?” Ryan asks as he walks over. 

“Yeah, but like actual cheese. Not a Cheeto or the stuff in a can.”

Ryan frowns. “Didn’t you just eat a whole bottle of Cheez Wiz yesterday?”

“You did what?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow at his youngest son.

“I said it wasn’t real cheese,” Luke says to Ryan, ignoring his father completely. “Not that it wasn’t delicious. Now smell,” Luke urges him.

Ryan gives his little brother a skeptical look, but when you give him a reassuring nod, he leans in and sniffs her hair.

“It’s like…baby powder. But…I don’t know, fresher?” Ryan isn’t sure how to describe it, but he certainly doesn’t think cheese is the word he’d use. 

“Do all babies have it?” Luke asks as he takes a seat next to you.

“Most do,” Eddie tells him. “You both did.”

“When did I lose it? Or do I still have it?” Luke tries to yank one of his curls straight so he can get a good whiff of it, but to no avail. 

“It goes away after a few weeks or months,” Eddie says.

“What causes it?” Ryan asks.

Your husband smiles and you can tell he loves the boys asking him these questions. He’d sit here and talk to them about Eliza—or anything, really—all day. 

“I don’t know, pal,” Eddie says. 

“It’s like new car smell!” Luke adds. 

“But better,” you say, poking his tummy in his most ticklish spot. He giggles and squirms around at your side. Once he’s calmed, Luke slumps against your arm and watches Eliza fuss a little in Eddie’s arms.

“Even when she loses that baby smell,” Luke says, poking you in the thigh with a small bony forefinger, “I hope she grows up to smell like you and not Daddy.”

Eddie’s jaw drops open as he turns his head towards Luke. You want to make some sort of witty remark, but you can’t think of any. Plus, you’re laughing way too hard to speak. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

[fluentmoviequoter]

Falling Slowly

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: You are Tim's newest rookie, and his favorite. He treats you differently, able to see that your past affects you, and the little things build up until you can't deny your feelings.

Warnings: so much fluff, brief angst, domestic violence (Tim and reader respond to a call & allusions to past dv against reader), one scene is inspired by "The Switch" (1x4)

Word Count: 4.0k+ words

A/N: This doesn't really fit in any specific season, so I put characters in the roles I wanted them to have and just made up some names to fill in the gaps. Hopefully everything makes sense. Please let me know what you think!

Picture from Pinterest

“What are you doing here?” Angela asks, surprised to see Tim.

Furrowing his brows, Tim answers, “I’m here for the TO meeting.”

Angela tilts her head back and groans, passing Nyla a 10-dollar bill.

“She thought you’d give up your position for Metro,” Nyla explains.

“I’d like to, someday, but not today,” Tim replies.

“20 bucks this is his last one,” Angela says to Nyla. “He still has the open invite to Metro and his patience can’t take many more boots.”

Nyla reaches to shake Angela’s hand as Tim rolls his eyes and walks away.

“Let me see his rookie first, then we’ll talk,” Nyla decides. “I’ve got a feeling a lot is going to change around here.”

“Like what?” Angela asks. “Nyla! Like what?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station on your first day as a rookie is both nerve-wracking and exciting. You’ve heard stories about boots making it through the academy to fail once they reach this level, but you’re determined. When you were a kid, you were in bad situations more often than any child should be, but kind police officers changed your life, and you’d like to do the same.

Waving to one of your police academy friends, you sit in the bullpen, waiting impatiently to learn which officer behind you will be your training officer. Getting the perfect training officer is up to fate, based on what you’ve heard, and your TO can make or break your career.

“Good morning, boots! I am Watch Commander Wade Grey. You have made it through the police academy, but don’t expect a pat on the back, your work is just beginning. This is the time to prove yourself, to show your TO, me, and this city why you deserve to be a police officer.” He pauses, moving around the podium to add, “If you should be a police officer.”

As you listen intently, striving to remember every word Sergeant Grey says, two detectives stand at the back of the room and evaluate the rookies.

“He’s only got one shot,” Angela mutters.

“If he gets the pretty one in the front, I’m not taking the bet,” Nyla says.

Angela looks up a row, her brows raising when she sees you. “If he ends up with her, we’re starting a station-wide pool and getting rich,” she adds.

“Now, it’s time to be assigned to your judge, jury, and executioner,” Wade says with a smile. “Or, as we call them, TOs. Our former rookie turned TO, Nolan: you’ve got Edward Henderson.

 Officer Nolan nods at Henderson, and you remember his story: a late-life rookie who got a golden ticket. Part of you wants to work with him and learn why he decided on law enforcement, but you only nod at Henderson before turning back around.

“Lance Vincent, you are with our newest TO, Eliza Reagan.”

Wade says your name with a smile that seems a bit more genuine than before. “Officer Bradford, last but not least,” he says as he assigns you your new TO.

You look over your shoulder, a small smile on your face as he nods at you. He is undeniably attractive, and you hope it doesn’t cause any problems.

“Oh, he’s a goner,” Nyla whispers under her breath when you smile at Tim.

“Should we tell him?” Angela replies.

“I think we’ll have to.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Something about you bothers Tim. Not in the usual, grumpy-with-a-new-boot way, but he has a sense that you’re different. 

“Nice to meet you,” you say, walking to Tim at the back of the bullpen.

He stands, offering a calloused hand to shake.

“I’m not going to pretend this is going to be easy or fun,” he tells you. “Being a rookie is the hardest part of your career, but if you’re a good cop under the uniform, you’ll be fine.”

Nodding, you promise to do your best and express your willingness to learn everything you can from him.

“Good,” he says. “Meet me outside the war room. We’re not wasting any time, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

Tim watches you walk away, and when you stop to let someone carrying a large box cross in front of you, Tim realizes that you’re hurting, or were hurting not long ago. The underlying need to help people is something he recognizes.

“She’s pretty,” Angela muses, walking to Tim’s side.

“Though you know that,” Nyla adds, smiling on his other side.

“She’s a boot. No different than the other rookies,” Tim argues, though his gaze is still on your back as you sign for your bags and weapons.

“Sure, she is. Why don’t you go put her through a Tim test?” Angela suggests.

Tim rolls his eyes as he leaves, wondering what hurt you bad enough to make you want to be a cop. He became a cop despite his hurt, but you’re young and bright – and too good for him – so there must be something in you that makes you worthy of this. More worthy (and more beautiful) than any rookie before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Several officers wish you luck, with one or two warning you about so-called “Tim Tests” while you wait for Tim behind the shop.

“Don’t tell me you have a checklist,” Tim begins, drawing your attention away from the shop tires.

“No, sir,” you answer. “Just being vigilant, I suppose. I’d hate to start my first day with a flat tire.”

Tim nods, asking where the war bags are. You tell him how you checked the contents and loaded them into the trunk, and he appreciates your brief explanation.

“Good work. The easy part is over,” Tim says. He seems to weigh his options before deciding, “You drive. Show me what you’ve got.”

He follows you to the driver’s side door, opening it as he reminds you of standard shop procedures. As Tim closes the door, you wonder if he’s a gentleman or if he followed you because he doesn’t trust you to drive correctly. Either way, you know what you’re doing, and you won’t let the man in the passenger seat distract you… too much.

Driving toward Wilshire Boulevard for patrol, Tim looks out the window. 

“Blue Camaro has an expired plate,” you alert.

“Call it in.”

You do so, hitting the sirens as you engage the traffic stop. Tim raises a hand to stop you from getting out.

“Remember your training. Don’t let the situation get away from you.”

His words linger in your mind, and you complete the stop with no problem, issuing a ticket and returning to the shop.

“I’m driving,” Tim alerts you, spreading his hand across the small of your back as he directs you to the sidewalk.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask when he starts the car.

“No,” he answers bluntly.

You lick your lips nervously, turning your attention to your surroundings. Suddenly, Tim pulls over and hits the brakes.

“I’ve been shot, boot. Where are we?” Tim demands.

Furrowing your brows in surprise at his actions, you answer, “Intersection of 12th and Meadowbrook, west of Redondo. There are several hospitals in a five-mile radius, but only one has a trauma center.”

Tim pulls out wordlessly, continuing his patrol route. Tim doesn't say much else throughout the few hours between his first test and lunch. He lets you point things out, answers your questions about the area and procedures, and glances at you out of the corner of his eye. When he pulls up to a small circle of food trucks where several police officers are waiting, he turns toward you.

“You’re doing well. I’m not neglecting to give you good feedback for any reason other than once you start riding alone, you won’t get it. My role here is to prepare you for your solo career, not hold your hand until you get there.”

“I understand, sir. Thank you for answering my questions,” you reply as you open the door.

Tim’s hand finds your upper back as he leads you to his favorite of the food trucks, a light touch that disappears nearly as quickly as it happened. You thank him quietly for the suggestion before sitting with your fellow rookies.

“Hi, Tim,” Angela says.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his annoyance breaking through his growing fondness for you.

“Just came to get some food. Your boot seems to be in a good mood.”

“Strange, I thought Tim’s thing was ‘break their spirits in the first hour,’” Nyla adds as she joins Angela.

“You two not have work to do or something?” Tim inquires.

“Something like that. How’s she doing?” Angela tips her chin toward you as she asks.

“She’s got good instincts, knows protocols.”

“But?”

Tim shrugs, turning away before Angela can dig deeper.

“I give it a week,” Nyla announces.

“Before what?”

“He can’t take it anymore.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Domestic disturbance in your area,” dispatch alerts.

Tim grabs the radio, accepting the call as he hits the sirens and turns into a residential area. You chew the inside of your bottom lip; domestic calls are your least favorite, especially when kids are involved. Unwilling to show discomfort, you put on your best brave cop face and follow Tim to the door.

A young girl with a bloody nose and teary eyes opens it, and you glance at Tim before kneeling and asking her to come outside. She listens without question, her lower lip wobbling as you smile.

“He’s hurting my mom,” she whimpers.

Tim nods at you before tilting his head toward the shop. You direct the girl to stand at the edge of the porch and wait for you as you follow Tim inside.

“LAPD, put your hands up!” Tim yells as he steps into a bedroom.

Your eyes widen when you see the large man towering over the girl’s mother. He smiles as he reaches for something.

“Don’t move unless you want to give me a reason,” Tim says lowly. “Step away.”

The man looks toward the nightstand before taking a deep breath and giving up. 

“I got it,” Tim tells you before radioing a code 4.

You wait until Tim has the handcuffs secured to walk outside. The girl runs into your arms, and you pop the shop's trunk, setting her down as you retrieve a small first aid kit. She lets you clean her bloody nose, gripping your wrist when it stings.

“Where’s my mom?” she asks.

“She’s talking to my partner right now, she’ll be out in a few minutes,” you explain.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest,” you answer.

“Mom!” she yells, letting you set her on the ground before she runs to her mom’s side.

“Get in the shop,” Tim commands as he walks past, his hand brushing your arm as he closes the trunk.

You obey, climbing into the passenger seat and waiting as he talks to the EMTs. When he joins you, he drives to a quiet, empty street before switching off his body cam and gesturing for you to do the same.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer than you’ve heard.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t say what I want to hear. Domestic calls are tough but that wasn’t your first one, was it?”

You shake your head, looking out the windshield instead of at Tim.

“We all have reasons for becoming a cop, and some calls are harder than others. As long as your past doesn’t get in the way and put you in danger, it’s okay to be human,” he continues. “TOs are notoriously hard on you, but we’re also here for you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Tim shrugs, one corner of his lips upturned. “No more sappy stuff, we have work to do.”

“Oh, if you think that was sappy, I’ve got a lot to show you before I graduate to short sleeves.”

The comment catches Tim off guard and makes him feel something he didn’t expect.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the first week, you feel like you know Tim well. His hand spread across your back or shoulder when you’re in front of him, his little reminders that you’re not alone, that you can show emotion when the time allows, and every other little thing he does makes you wonder why there are so many horror stories around his teaching style.

Likewise, Tim thinks he has you down. You ask him questions, ask for his opinions, listen and apply what he says, and send him small smiles when he compliments your work.

But, it only takes a shift to realize that people are multi-faceted, and cops and rookies are no different.

“Good morning,” you greet, passing Tim a small box.

“What is this? A bribe?” he asks.

You smile as you reply, “Nope. Just something I found, and I thought you’d like.”

Tim opens the box, his eyes widening at the 2000 Super Bowl tickets, the Rams’ first win. “I can’t accept these.”

“They were under a bookshelf in my apartment, it’s not like I spent a million dollars on them, Officer Bradford.”

Tucking them into his pocket, Tim opens your door. “Thank you.”

You smile, and Tim thinks your joy is the better gift.

✯✯✯✯✯

During your first call of that day, you show Tim that you don’t just value his opinions.

“Shots fired!” you radio as you duck behind the car.

“Are you hit?” Tim asks.

Shaking your head, you move closer, trusting him to direct you and keep you safe. The men in the house you were called to have automatic weapons, and though you’re a good shot, you’re not a match for their guns alone.

“Backup is on the way, but I need you to do something for me. You trust me?” Tim adds.

“I do.”

“Reach around the back and open the trunk; just far enough to reach the latch. I’ll cover you.”

He stands above you, firing into the shattered window of the house as you slip your arm and back around the end of the shop and open the trunk.

“Good, perfect,” Tim praises as he ducks beside you. His knuckles graze yours as he leans past you. “Can you reach the shotguns?”

Glancing in the window above you, you locate them quickly. “I can.”

“Do it. I got you.”

Once the shotguns are in your hands, you pass one to Tim as you ready your own. Timing your shots, you take out two shooters just as your backup arrives.

“You’re bleeding,” Tim says, his adrenaline dropping as a tactical team takes over.

You look at your arm, just noticing your ripped sleeve and bloody skin. Tim lays his hands on your arm as he turns it toward him.

“I think it was just glass from the windshield,” you say quietly, pointing to the car behind you, riddled with bullet holes and broken glass.

“Either way, we need to get it checked out.”

“Officer Bradford?” you interject. “Thank you. For making sure I trust you.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” he mutters, so soft you can barely hear it.

He taps the Super Bowl tickets in his pocket as he rises to get a paramedic to check on you, and you smile, wondering how bad it would be if you fell in love with your TO.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re quieter than usual,” Tim points out. “I need to know that whatever is bothering you won’t impair your ability to work with me.”

“It won’t,” you promise. “Sorry.”

Tim considers pressing, but he trusts you. “I’m here. If you decide you want to talk about it.”

He exits the shop and opens your door before you can reach for the handle.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Did you see that?” Nyla gushes, elbowing Angela.

“Ow. See what?”

Nyla points to Tim, closing your door and laying a hand on your shoulder as he ducks his head to talk to you.

“That’s not a reprimand,” Angela deduces.

When you smile, a tiny upturning of your lips, Nyla laughs.

“Oh, that boy… The door, the touches, listening to her? He’s gone.”

“Not just him,” Angela adds. “She asks him questions, smiles at him, trusts him more than anyone… and the Super Bowl tickets? They’re adorable.”

“Should we do something?”

“Not yet. I think they’re close to realizing.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After your longest, and worst, day yet, you find yourself in a hospital waiting room beside Tim. He hasn't said anything since a speeding driver ran into your side of the shop, though you've apologized countless times (even though there's nothing you could have done).

Tim’s jaw is clenched so tight you’re worried it will snap. You’re sitting close to him, a bandage around your wrist and an ice pack pressed to your cheek.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Stop- stop apologizing, it’s not your fault,” Tim sighs.

His arm is on the armrest between you, and you move your hand toward his. When he doesn’t back away, you turn your arm to allow your knuckles to brush against his.

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him kindly. “He ran a red light.”

“And you could’ve been killed,” Tim replies, standing abruptly and walking away.

You slump in your seat, dejected and curious about what you could say to make him stop blaming himself for someone running into you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim and his rookie sitting in a tree,” Nyla sings under her breath.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Tim replies.

“Right, because you’re too busy being mad that she got hurt. Cops get hurt Tim,” Angela reminds him.

“Not with me,” he begins, pausing to take a deep breath. “Despite what you think, I’m upset that she got hurt, not because I’m in love with her.”

“Whatever you got to hear, buddy,” Nyla replies. “But tell me this. If it was Nolan when he was a boot, would you have felt this bad? Even if I believed you didn’t have feelings for her, which I don’t, you’re different with her and you know it.”

Tim sighs, looking out the door at you. He knows it’s true; despite his constant denial, he does treat you differently because you are different, and you’re like a magnet, incapable of being ignored or forgotten. Finally confessing it to himself, Tim knows that his feelings for you will get one or both of you in trouble unless something changes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It is time for The Switch,” Wade says as he walks into the bullpen. “The day you ride with a new TO.”

You glance at Tim, who gives you an encouraging nod. He tells you that you’re a great rookie, but he also tells you that you’re pretty sometimes, which doesn’t seem pertinent (or always true, in your eyes). Wade says your name, and you look up.

“You’re with Nolan,” he tells you.

Smiling at Nolan, you cross your fingers under the desk that it’s a good day. 

“Henderson,” you call as he stands up, “what’s Nolan like?”

“He’s great. Really understanding and knowledgeable. A little talkative, but fairly easy going. Just stick to protocol and listen to his directions; you’ll be fine.”

“What about Bradford?” Vincent asks you. “Everyone says he’s the toughest. Anything I should be aware of?”

“I don’t think so. He’s quiet sometimes, but he’s great.”

You collect your war bag with the expectation of a good day. You will miss Tim, but learning how another TO teaches and his views can be invaluable. As you slide into the driver’s seat beside Nolan, you realize something: you like Tim as more than your TO. He means more to you than just being your teacher, your mentor, and a trustworthy officer. The thought hits you so suddenly you're not sure where it came from.

With each passing moment, you find yourself remembering something Tim said or wanting to tell him something, but he isn’t there. Nolan is kind and laughs at your muttered comments, but it is nothing like riding with Tim. As you think about all the little things Tim does, everything begins to make sense.

Someone yells your name when you step out of the shop to get lunch. Turning, you’re surprised to see Vincent storming up to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands.

“Tell you what?”

“That Bradford has ‘Tim Tests’ and nothing pleases him!”

You glance over his shoulder, finding Tim and Nolan talking. Tim glances over at you, and the tension in his shoulders seems to ease until Nolan says something else.

“His Tim Tests aren’t that bad; he’s just teaching you awareness and safety.”

“He wants to end my career,” Vincent exclaims before muttering something about you not understanding as he walks away.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s Vincent doing?” Nolan asks.

“That kid has no situational awareness,” Tim answers. “I stopped at a street sign, and he couldn’t figure out where we were.”

“He’s probably scared of you,” Nyla interjects. “And, no, Bradford, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“My rookie can tell me where I am, no matter what,” Tim adds.

“Your rookie is very good, I’ll give you that,” Nolan replies. “But Vincent has potential. Besides, your boot has people problems.”

Tim glances over at you, locking eyes with you while Vincent talks to you dramatically.

“So do I, but I’m still a good cop.”

Nyla watches as both you and Tim sigh before abandoning the conversations you’re in. She shakes her head, calculating her winnings if the betting pool goes her way.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking out of the locker room at the end of the day, you’re surprised to be called into Sergeant Grey’s office. You sit across from him, fiddling with the hem of your shirt to spend your nervous energy.

“You are being assigned to a new TO. Officer Bradford has decided to hand you off to someone better equipped to teach you,” Grey informs. “But you’re not in trouble.”

You still your hands in your lap. “Okay. Effective when?”

“Monday morning. So, rest up.”

As you stand, Grey says your name, smiling as he repeats, “You’re not in trouble. This was Bradford’s decision, nothing to do with you. Well, nothing to do with you as a rookie.”

You purse your lips at his phrasing, and he chuckles before sending you out. Walking through the parking lot, you see Tim’s truck is still there and decide to ask him what happened. Standing by the tailgate, you chew your bottom lip as you wait, nervous that you did something, though Wade assured you differently.

Tim walks up unnoticed, saying your name to get your attention.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask, jumping straight to your questions. “I can fix it; there has to be a way to fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Tim promises. “I just can’t be your TO anymore.”

“Why not?”

Tim shifts his backpack on his shoulder. “It’s not appropriate.”

Your heart drops. Tim knows you have feelings for him, and it makes him uncomfortable; that’s the only explanation. Nodding slowly, you accept your fate.

“And I can’t do this,” Tim adds.

His hands slide onto your jaw, his palms against your cheeks as his fingers settle behind your ears, pulling you into a quick kiss. You only begin to respond when he pulls back.

“You’re the best boot I’ve ever had,” he whispers, brushing his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m not your boot anymore,” you remind him.

“That’s your fault. Those little gifts, and soft smiles, and how well you listen… You make it impossible not to fall for you.”

You laugh, leaning against his hands as you reply, “You do too. How do you think I felt when you called me pretty or touched my back? Then you kept comforting me and inviting me to talk. It was too easy.”

“Go to dinner with me?” he asks.

You nod, smiling against his hands before he moves to touch your back again, opening the passenger door as he helps you in. Tim slips his hand into yours, kissing your knuckles as he keeps you close.

✯✯✯✯✯

When the rest of the rookies leave the station, noticing that your car is still there, they ask each other if anyone has seen you.

“Bradford’s truck is gone,” Nyla notices as she walks out.

“Looks like we won,” Angela cheers.

“Where’s Bradford?” Vincent asks.

“On a date,” Nyla answers. “With his former boot.”

The rookies’ jaws drop, wondering how you managed to pull Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Don’t expect the same to happen to you,” Angela says as she passes the rookies. “We all worked for this one.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader

[true-blue-sonic]

Hey there, recently you mentioned ideas for Silver and Espio's parents' names (btw, I loved the Espio's mother's name)

So I got me wondering: Do you have some idea for Gold's parents names?

Hello ^-^ I'm glad you liked it! Kusa has got a double meaning to it: it means grass in Japanese, tying in to Espio's mother having green eyes as opposed to yellow, but it's also a way to say ninja! And Jisho.org, the dictionary I use, gives as third meaning not genuine; substandard​; that can nicely reflect to her relationship with and view on her son.

For Gold's parents, I have a document with two names, namely Kamal and Maya. Because Evan Stanley described Gold as stemming from "whatever the Sonic world equivalent of India is", I wanted to try and honour that in their names. Following my research, Kamal can mean lotus in Hindi, which ties to the plant naming theme Gold and her seven siblings have. And Maya can mean dream or illusion and is another way to spell Lakshmi, which is the name of the goddess of wealth, fortune, power, beauty, and prosperity in Sanskrit (a language that seems to tie to Hinduism as well). But all of this is based on some Google researching on those baby name websites and Wikipedia, so I have no idea how closely it exactly fits to everything in the real world. Still, Kamal and Maya are both actual given names, so I guess for Gold's parents I have those two in mind!

#did I write Kusa with an s or a z in the other post? It's supposed to be an s‚ namely... Will check that real quick! #Though I do find Kuza with a z more visually appealing... but that means 'peacock' and then I fear the tie with 'ninja' would be lost #this is just a me thing lol I have an OC named Eliza who *should* be named Elisa based on her name origin but I switched it immediately #gold the tenrec #hope that answers your question! ^-^

[mischelmayleys]

Only this first one is going to be post here probably so for more go to my wattpad: football_woman_11

CHAPTER 1

Mapi and Ingrid were the perfect ending for each other. They knew it of course. But sometimes they felt like something was missing. Maybe someone. Some little legs running around their shared apartment in the catalonia town. 

It started as a thought from their conversation one simple evening that turned them into a fostering process. They were told they are too busy and always traveling for the games as all the workers have said. It wasn't an environment for a little kid that probably came out of something tragic to find itself in a foster system. 

They still tried. They still asked if there was someone they could foster and later adopt. But the simple "No" set their hopes to minimum, until one day.

„Are you totally insane Eliza!" My social worker yelled at me as soon as she found me in a police station sitting in the 24 hour jail. I looked down at my bleeding knuckles and pursed my lips to stop the pounding pain in them.

I shrugged my shoulders and let myself sink further into the uncomfortable wooden chair.

„Do you have any idea how this will look  on your record. Running from yet another of your homes is one thing there but fights. And don't let me start at your school records." She was looking at me through the bars of the cell.

„They weren't my home." I said looking up at her.

She sighs: „Eliza I know you don't like them, but you need to at least try. There aren't many families that want a 16 year old, yet trouble maker. You know how hard it was for me to find you Mr and Mrs Freemans?" She let the question sink. She didn't expect me to answer her, yet she stayed quiet.

„I was protecting myself in the fight AND running away was a way better option than staying." I argued back at her. She doesn't know how it is in the foster system. For her every family is good, but it's never the case.

I was in five families so far. Neither of them were okay.

In the first one the father abused me mentally the second one physically, but no one ever believed me.

Who would believe a 16year old girl over people who put everything together once they're investigating? No one...

I didn't eat normal food for a long time, of course I always ended up getting some bread or cold food, but my body was missing some hot and fresh food.

„Eliza we talked about this. A roof over your head is home.“ Again I stayed quiet and just stared at my now numb hands. She wasn’t right. Home is when you are somewhere you are loved and treated right. 

My social worker continued to look at me for a few more minutes until she signaled for the cop to release me: „You are sleeping in my office tonight. The family dropped your things into my car. Come on.“ She grabbed me by my arm and dragged me into her car. 

„You bailed me out?“ I asked as she started the engine. 

„Yes.“ It was a simple answer but it made me smile a little. At least someone cared. 

The next day my social worker forced me into my classes and said after school to go immediately to her office, saying she found a family for me to stay over there for a couple of days. I didn’t bother to go, instead I went to a small football field where I sneaked and borrowed one ball which was always lying around somewhere on the pitch. 

I threw my backpack onto the field which didn’t include any of my school stuff. Instead of books it was filled with my football shoes and a half of my skateboard. The other half was showing from the back pack as it of course didn’t fit into him.

I quickly changed my shoes and began to do some tricks with the ball that I learned online. They were simple but at least I didn't suck at it like I did with school. 

It wasn't like I was stupid or something, I just didn't care. Foster kids don't normally get picked out to the school football team or to anything really. You don't have many friends because you are always moving around and no one likes new kids anyway. 

After some time my phone blew up with messages and missed calls from my social worker asking where the FUCK I was. I just rolled my eyes and said I'll be there in a few minutes. It was better to come late, at least they won't pick me if they see that I'm not bothered. 

I would lie if I didn't say I was scared to go into the office door. It would mean meeting the people who I would live with. They never were nice people fostering me. 

They seemed okay but most of them turned out into drug junkies, alcoholics or abusers. Sometimes all at once. I am kind of used to it now. I mastered a skill in running away and quickly scanning the areas I was in to see a potential way out. 

I took a deep breath and with a bored expression knocked on the door and opened them immediately after. 

I was met with my social worker and two women talking.  

„Eliza, come here. Sit.” My social worker said, making me sigh and sit into the chair next to her facing the two women. 

„This is Maria and Ingrid and they will take you in, until I find someone to adopt you.” my social worker was saying but all I was focusing on were the two women in front of me. 

One of them had tattoos all over her arms and one on her neck. I focused on that one more: 

Looks can be deceiving

Hmm interesting. People with tattoos tend to look aggressive and most of the time they are. One of the last foster homes I was in, the man had many tattoos…I used to look at them when he beat me up. How his muscles flexed and the tattoos moved on his arms. 

„Eliza!” I was torn from my thoughts because my social worker called my name. 

„Yeah, sure whatever.” I mumbled annoyed and stood up. 

„Be nice and please stay out of trouble.” She said as I followed Ingrid and Maria out of the door. 

I took a deep breath: „No.” And with that I closed the door and turned around to find them staring at me.

„What?” I asked.

Ingrid smiles at me: „We are waiting for you.” she stuck out her hand and I just looked at it and walked past them. 

„Or not.” I heard Maria mumble as they followed me closely.

Due to me not knowing where to go I stopped and looked back at the two women. 

„It’s that black Cupra.” Ingrid pointed out a black car sitting at the back of the parking lot. 

I nodded and walked to the car feeling them right behind me. 

I quickly slipped into the back seat and sat down with my backpack next to all of my bags which I don't know how they got there. Probably my social worker. 

I pulled my board between my legs so I don't make the interior of the car dirty. It was so clean. 

„So, are you hungry? Or did you eat in school?” Maria turned from the front seat facing me. 

I shook my head quickly: „I am not hungry.” I learned that by now, when someone asks me if I'm hungry the answer always has to be no. I once said yes and I hadn't eaten anything for three days due to me being ungrateful. 

They both shared a concerned look which I didn't see because I was already looking out of the window.

When Ingrid stopped the car I realized that we were in front of McDonald's. I frowned, why are we here if I said I'm not hungry?

„I know you said you aren't hungry but I think some fries aren't that big of a deal, what do you say?” Ingrid turned my way smiling. Why the fuck is she smiling at me? 

„I guess…” I mumbled in case this was some kind of a trap. Ingrid and Maria looks nice…nicer that the other people, but I am done trusting the system putting me somewhere nice.

They both went outside of the car as I stayed in. 

„Well you are coming too let's go.” Maria said as she opened the door on my side. Fuck! I mumbled under my breath and got out of the car carefully placing my board into the space between the seats. 

They were asking too many questions. If I really want just fries? If I want a burger as well? Or what I want to drink. I tried to reply short and no to most of the questions, but in the end I ended up with The nuggets, fries and coke zero in the back placed safely in my lap as we sat in the car to their house.

I still don’t know what to think about them. They are smiling at me, buying me food and making sure I have everything and it has only been two hours since they first met me. There must be something wrong with them…

Ingrid parked the car in front of a flat building in the center of Barcelona. It looked expensive here…or at least better than the streets where my usual foster parents lived. Maria took all of my bags even though I said I could carry them on my own, but she dismissed me by saying: “Why would you do that?” 

I didn’t fight her back on it, not because I didn’t want to, but it was Ingrid who literally guided me out of Marias way. 

“Come on let Maria be, I am going to show you your room.” Ingrid said and with her hand on my back she led me into the elevator. I had the Mcdonald's back in one hand and my board in the other one. I get my own room? 

#woso #women's football #fc barcelona #espwnt #woso community #mapi leon #ingrid engen #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #foster care

[obsessedwithegos]

👄 Eliza, poison laced chocolate (a note from "Marley" attached)

Eliza was delighted to see that not only did she get chocolate but that they were from Marley! She doesn’t bother double checking it as she unwraps one and pops it into her mouth. Her smile remained for a decent amount of time but after a bit of chewing she realized it tastes funny. 

She can’t place why at first until after she swallows the first piece. As the taste of the chocolate fades, she recognizes the taste that’s left behind in her mouth as poison. She’s confused and kind of emotionally hurt. She knows she’ll be fine physically, after all this is part of the reason Berkley built up her tolerance to it! (She didn’t know being poisoned by someone else would be an actual thing to be worried about.) 

But it doesn’t make sense. Why would Marley get her poisoned chocolate? She doesn’t eat the rest, saving the remaining box of chocolate and the note to show Marley and ask him about it. She’s not angry, just hurt and confused and wanting answers. (Put something in my OCs mouth!)

#owe answers #thebluejaysworld #thebluejayswhump #ask meme #whump #whump tag #attempted poisoning #Eliza tag #lady whump #It's a good thing she's resistant to poison!!!! #marley tag #berkley tag #(both mentioned and owned by JJ who sent this ask!))

[neil-gaiman]

Hei Neil

I followed the event featuring you and the First Ladies of Finland and Island and was absolutly delighted of it. I'm from Finland myself and was very surprised when I found out about said event, and that you would be takin part of talking about literature with dr. Jenni Haukio and Eliza Reid! (Actually found out that this kinda event had even been held just because I follow you here on tumblr and you happened to answer some question regarding on why you were taking part at this thing :D) I immedietly marked it on my calendar and watched it when it aired at midnight on this side of the world. (regretted this a little at the morning because the stream is available on youtube after it happened so I could have just watched it the next day..)

The whole event and conversation was great! And some very good points was brought up and they made me stop at some point to think about what is the meaning of literature in my life and why it even interests me so deeply. I was so proud to hear Jenni speak about our literary culture and the impact that literature has had on our nation over the past. Some famous Finnish writers and their works was also brought up and the way how they have shaped the Finnis language and identity. Overall the event was educational and I for myself learned a lot new things about Nordic literature especially Islandic literary and book gifting traditions! Also I was very suprised that you had actually visited Finland in your life but not so suprised by the fact that you had been interviewed in sauna cus that sounds exacly like something we might do. hehe

But afterall this was not an ask but more like a some sort of a message so please excuse me and have a nice day! Warm greetings from Finland, and hopefully you dare to come and visit us here again<3

I hope I will. I do love Finland so much.

[seresinhangmanjake]

I've Promised You Forever

Dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake and his Honey are married!

Notes/Warnings: None, really.

Words: 2454

Oh, Baby Series

---

“You’re less nervous than I expected,” Rooster said, his eyes meeting Jake’s in the mirror as they adjusted their bowties in sync. 

They’d been up for hours, the whole house alive and bustling as people put things in place. Phoenix, his mother, and Gram stayed by your side, but the rest of his team set about accomplishing their own tasks. Coyote was on decorations. Payback on flowers. Fanboy on the cake—probably not the best of ideas if they wanted it arriving without a bite taken out of the side. Bob had Eve. And Rooster, with the exception of occasionally checking on the others, had remained with Jake. 

“Am I?” Jake asked, but in truth his friend was right. He wasn’t nervous. From all that led up to this day, he found no reason to be.

“For this being the day you marry the love of your life? Yes, I would say you’re surprisingly calm.” Done with his tie, Rooster turned to eye the side of his friend’s face. “I mean, I know this is literally happening in your own backyard, but it’s still a big deal.”

Jake finished messing with the bow and his hand landed on Rooster’s shoulder, giving it a few pats. “Of course it’s a big deal. I’m not denying that.”

“Ok, then why—”

“How is she doing?”

Rooster paused at the sudden shift, but adaptable as he was, he adjusted quickly to the randomly tossed question. He thought over his answer, then his brow lightly pinched, his head tilted to the side, and he said, “Actually…no more nervous than you.” He shook the confusion off his face. “I don’t get it. I’d be freaking out right now, but I guess I’ll chalk it up to you two already facing such a hefty amount of trials and tribulations together that you’re numb to nerves.”

Jake chuckled. That hefty amount was no joke. Nothing about you and Jake managed to edge along the conventional route. Not how you became a family. Not how you developed as a couple. Not how you chose to marry. Your relationship was forced through more than most, and at the end of the day, it was being one another’s rock in a sea of utter chaos that made it all survivable. 

More challenges would find their way to his family, Jake knew. No one was immune. But come hell or high water, you and Jake proved to be unbreakable, and that wasn’t going to change. 

“She looks incredible, though,” Rooster continued. “You’re going to lose your mind.”

—

“How do you feel? Are you nervous? Can you believe you’re finally going to be married?” All questions shot from Jake's mother as she straightened out the veil attached to your loose bun. “It feels so different being a wife. But I know you’re the best possible woman for my son.”

You turned your head to meet her eyes and you smiled. “Thank you, Eliza.”

She rounded you and took your hand in hers, lightly squeezing. “I know you and Jake have had a rather unique journey, but if anything, I believe that proves how much you are meant to be together.”

You grinned and nodded in agreement. Unique was right. In every way. From the moment you met, you knew your path together would not be straight. It would have its twists and its turns, as it eventually did. But that jagged road the two of you had wobbled along trained you and Jake to accept being different. And in being different, you were more than happy to throw out rules and expectations, instead choosing to do exactly as you wanted whenever you wanted to do it. 

That habit was demonstrated perfectly the night prior when Jake snuck back home despite his mother’s and friends’ insistence on not seeing his bride before the wedding. He’d waited until his team fell asleep at Rooster's, then drove back to his house, kissed his daughter’s forehead, and snuggled up to you in bed, not caring about the scolding once his absence would be discovered come morning; a scolding that came in the form of his Gram's small hand smacking into his shoulder. 

A sudden knock at the door was followed by the peeking of Nat’s head into the room. “You ready?” she asked. “Rooster is about to go down the aisle with Eve.” 

You grinned at the thought of the job you’d assigned your friend, which he’d accepted with an unexpected excitement. And thankfully you’d enlisted Payback as photographer so you’d get to see for yourself the six-foot tall wall of a man holding an infant and a basket of flower petals in his arms as he made his way towards Jake. 

And then it would be your turn.

"Ready," you confirmed. 

—

Under any other circumstances, Jake would’ve chuckled. He would’ve taken the opportunity to tease his friend the way his friends so often teased him. But as he watched Rooster carry his baby girl down the aisle, doing his best to hold her close and help her drop light pink petals along the pathway, Jake couldn’t help but smile. 

Eve was content in his arms. She was peaceful, as if she knew it was a joyful day over anything else. She hadn’t cried without Mama and Daddy, Bob informed him. She didn’t fuss when made to put on her white tulle dress or slide the headband into her wispy hair. So when she reached the end of the aisle, in appreciation Jake bent down to place a kiss on her forehead before Rooster took his position to the left of his shoulder. 

“Deep breath,” Rooster muttered as everyone in their seats stood and turned. 

His mother’s arm was linked with yours while she guided you past your friends toward him. The smile you displayed was ear to ear. Bright. Vibrant. But his mother’s took up nearly half of her face; wide with lips pulled back so far the corners caught her tears before they could reach her chin. 

She’d thanked him a million times the week before. Despite becoming so prominent in Jake’s life, she had the lingering sense that at any moment, he would cut her out again. She felt it an honor to be at her son’s wedding, to walk the woman he loved down the aisle and hand her over so he could call his little family complete. Though, rings on fingers and vows from lips were not a symbol of completion, not for him. He’d been complete from the moment you came back into his life with his baby girl strapped to your chest. 

Jake’s eyes remained locked on you as you neared. Each of your steps came with a matching thump of his heart. He’d never tire of seeing you come to him; the anticipation of having you close and holding you in his arms, even when simply being greeted after a long day at work. Still, this was a bit more—an acknowledgment in front of everyone he loved that he could officially call you ‘wife’ whenever and wherever he wanted—and he pressed his heels into the ground to keep from bouncing on his toes. 

Once you were close enough that he could catch your flowered perfume, Jake took your hand from his mother and raised it to his lips to brush a soft kiss over the back. “Hi, Honey," he whispered, intertwining your fingers. You gave your bouquet over to Phoenix then took his other hand, mirroring the weaving of fingers. 

A subtle pink tinted your cheeks. “Hi."

“Alright,” Gram clasped her palms together. “You kids ready to be married?" 

Your teasing smile sent a zing down Jake’s spine and he returned it with a wink. 

"I'll take that as a yes," she said, then called to the small crowd, "You can all be seated and we'll get this show on the road."

His ears felt full of fuzz as his grandmother began to speak her practiced lines; the ones she’d run over with him a hundred times to make sure they suited his wishes, despite him telling her just as many times that whatever she would say would be perfect. Jake knew he’d be solely focused on you anyway, taking away from his ability to fully absorb her words. 

Her voice was a consistent humming in his ear, and not until she lightly nudged him in the arm did he snap out of the glowy haze you’d surrounded him in to realize it was his cue. 

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat. When you giggled his lips curved upwards. “Honey…” he started but then paused to stare again, just for another moment. At how amazing you were. At how beautiful, wrapped in a dress that hugged every dip and swell of your figure, with the soft style of your hair, and the red shade painting your lips. He was already imagining the marks of your kiss all over his body. 

Then sensing the flush of his skin and the sting of oncoming tears, he swallowed to try to hold himself together. His fingers squeezed yours tighter. 

“Honey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it forever,” he began. “I love you. I love everything you are. Everything we are. I love the work and the struggles and the progress we’ve made to have what we have. I love our baby girl.” A tear slipped down your cheek that Jake reached up to brush away with his thumb before taking your hand again. “The two of you are my gift. My world and my heart. You own a piece of me that I never want you to give back,” he continued. “And I wake each morning thankful that you were so strong when having our Eve. I thank you for being so brave when you chose to come back into my life," he said. "You’re everything and all of it, Honey.”

Your thumb stroked over his, then you pulled his hand closer to press a kiss to the digit. “Jake,” you sniffled. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it forever.” He snickered at the familiar line before allowing a smile that matched yours to take over his face. “We were never a mistake. We weren’t a matter of convenience or simplicity. We weren’t a shot in the dark,” you said. “I believe that someway, somehow, this is where we would have inevitably found ourselves. Standing here, with our baby beside us, husband and wife. This is how it was always meant to be. And I know that in my soul.

"I love you," was a clear statement from your lips. "You are mine, Jake Seresin. You’re everything and all of it.”

Your radiating love filled him fully and he settled comfortably into the warmth that spread through his veins. Then he heard another sniffle, just to his right.

“Goodness,” Gram breathed as she wiped at a fallen tear. “You two…” She shook her head; took another breath. “Rings?”

Bob reached around Rooster to hand your ring to Jake as Phoenix slipped his into your palm. The exchange of bands rebloomed the flutters in his stomach. Then before Gram could get out her next instruction, Jake framed your face with his hands and joined your lips in a long kiss. 

“I love you, Honey,” he muttered between one soft kiss and the next. “Always.”

—

The evening had passed in the blink of an eye, but you didn’t miss a single detail of how the day unfolded. Each bit of it utterly perfect. Each moment more precious than the last. You couldn’t say you woke that morning with any expectations other than to enjoy your friends and family, but now that it was nearing its close, you realized everything far surpassed what you could’ve ever hoped for. A wedding had the potential to bring some chaos, as did most things during your and Jake’s relationship, but it was nothing other than smooth and easy. Everyone you cared for was by your side. Your daughter was happy in the company of those who loved her most. And you and Jake were together. All as should be.

Under the low glow of the fairy lights woven through the trees, you and Jake swayed to the gentle music. With your head resting on his shoulder, your arms around one another, you watched your friends and family enjoying themselves. Laughing, joking, teasing each other. They took turns dancing with your daughter in their arms, dancing with each other, or their dates. Rooster’s in particular–your friend and coworker—had her eyes glued to him and a blush across her cheeks as he rocked Eve back and forth while slowly moving about the installed dance floor. 

"You still feel alright with not telling them?" Jake’s voice was suddenly low in your ear, far from able to be heard by your guests with you being off to the edge of the wooden flooring. 

"That we've been married for months?” you asked. “Yes, I imagine it's still best we keep that to ourselves."

“I agree,” Jake said with a chuckle. "Think of the drama we'd face from our devastating betrayal."

"I know. I can't believe how selfish we are." 

He hummed. “You know, if you really think about it, by not telling them we are actually sparing them the pain and trauma.”

"That’s very true."

Jake chuckled again, a vibration from his chest to yours, and hugged you closer. A moment later you lifted your head to meet his eyes and smiled at your husband. The man who had been your husband for one hundred and twenty-six days, officially tied exactly three days after he slid that engagement ring onto your finger. You’d planned on waiting, but not seventy-two hours later, as you laid beside one another in bed, skin still damp with sweat and chests rising and falling in heavy breaths, Jake suddenly flipped on his side, cupped your cheek, and said: ‘What if we do it tomorrow?’. The rapid expelling of the question made you realize he had been thinking about it as much as you had. You’d instantly agreed, smiled, kissed, and spent the rest of the night wrapped around one another. The next morning you were married, and maintained the agreement that no one else needed to know. The two of you would know. And that was enough. 

"No,” you reaffirmed, brushing a stray lock of his blond hair back into place. “I think I like having our little secret."

Jake paused the movement of your bodies and, with a grin, said, "So do I, Honey." Then he placed his hands on your cheeks, just as he had earlier in the day, and once again drew you in for a kiss.

---

A/N: I hope it was ok :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #tgm #tgm fic #tgm hangman #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fanfic #dad!jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin series #jake seresin imagine

[nnnyxie]

toshinori yagi having a crush on you

requested by my lovely mutual~ @jellyfishandry

⤷ i like to think it was ‘love at first sight’!!

⤷ like— when he first saw you his jaw dropped. everything seemed to have stopped and only you were in the room. there was glitter surrounding you— and he could’ve sworn he heard smooth jazz.

⤷ he’s very nervous at first, naturally.

⤷ he’s changed a lot since retiring— all that hero confidence has sort of… fizzled out. ykwim?

⤷ so he doesn’t exactly approach you.

⤷ but yk who does?

⤷ midnight.

⤷ it was like that scene in hamilton where angelica brings him to eliza (minus her falling in love too ofc).

⤷ (sorry for the hamilton ref…)

⤷ and from then on, you two began to grow close.

⤷ he’s a bit closed off and quiet in the beginning though. not that you can blame him, of course.

⤷ though, his closed off wasn’t the ‘on-guard’/‘stand-off’-ish closed off but the ‘i’m having conflicting feelings and have fallen for you’ closed off. ykwim?

⤷ anyways

⤷ once he’s ‘opened up’ to you, he’s very talkative!!

⤷ though, some of the time, he’s only talkative because he’s nervous— you just look so cute in your outfits!!

⤷ i also think his love language is acts of service!!

⤷ so he tends to ‘go out of his way for you’ (as you say) a lot of the time—

⤷ like bringing you lunch, especially since you always forget yours!!

⤷ and staying back to help you organize paperwork or grade students’ assignments.

⤷ maybe you take care of the plants in the teachers’ lounge, and whenever you’re out on a long mission, he waters them for you.

⤷ he does these gestures for you subconsciously.

⤷ which makes it even sweeter.

⤷ the more his feelings grow, the more obvious he becomes (to all except you probably).

⤷ like— he never really checked his phone up until the two of you swapped numbers. only really answering if it was an emergency.

⤷ but, now he’s constantly checking it— smiling at it, blushing— all that.

⤷ and— it sounds like a typical/cheesy high school crush!! but, trust me, his feelings run deep!

⤷ he’s a bit more openly affectionate with you— not exactly pda.

⤷ but like— words of affirmation.

⤷ just things like congratulating you on your mission and telling you how amazing you were.

⤷ and he’ll ask to spend time with you in front of others. which he never did before.

⤷ sooo….. yes. it becomes a widely known fact (even by the students) that toshinori, that all might, has the fattest crush on you.

he’s such a cutie patootie !!

#/ᐠ - ˕ -マ works — ♡︎ #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero x reader #toshinori x reader #all might x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader