#[ it has come to my attention i never got to do this for any of wendy's friends who got announced before so we are rectifying that mistake ]

[ariichive]

JAGGED.ೃ࿔

caleb’s jealousy was uncontrollable and never goes away as quick as it comes.

cw: fem reader, not entirely smut but still gonna tag as 18+ mdni, jealousy, choking, possessiveness, teasing, gagging, kissing, marking, mullet caleb, biting, threats, violence, pet names, stripping, yandere, established relationship, stalking, manipulation, you both have a few screws loose... not proofread rip wc: 2.1k

whenever you returned home to caleb, he was always there with a warm smile and an even warmer embrace.

no matter how long you’d been gone—an hour, a day, a week—he greeted you like you’d been away for years.

the familiarity was gone today, it just felt cold and unwelcoming; something that has never happened before.

something was wrong. unsettlingly so.

"caleb?" you called out for him, only to receive no answer. he had to be here; he never left without telling you when he'd be back.

your heartbeat quickened as you stepped further inside, locking the door behind you out of habit. the air felt off—not in the way of an intruder, but in the absence of something vital. of him.

you called again, voice softer this time, hesitant. still, nothing.

the only light was from the pretty moonlight seeping in through the window, leaving your vision a bit distorted. you managed to find your way to the bedroom, making sure to be quiet in case he was sleeping or was listening to music.

the tension was thick as you seen a familiar silhouette sitting at the edge of the bed; your heartbeat didn't slow down or feel the usual comfort it did when you seen him.

"caleb, i was calling for you... are you okay?" you eyed him cautiously, shadows casting against his features. he didn't answer you, but the quiet hum he let out made it known he was listening.

"is everything okay..?" you tried once more to get him to talk.

"y'know, dear, it's so hard to stay mad at you. especially when you call my name so sweetly... like i couldn't ruin you any chance i get."

you gulped and took a cautious step back.

"what... what are you talking about?" you forced out, your voice smaller than you wanted it to be.

caleb tilted his head, finally moving—finally looking at you. his eyes, usually so full of warmth, were unreadable in the darkness.

"you’ve been careless," he murmured, tapping his fingers against his thigh like he was trying to keep himself in check. "running around, not paying attention, letting your guard down... do you know how easy it would be for something to happen to you?"

he didn't give you the chance to answer him. "i followed you. i followed you that entire time you were gone."

he turned towards you, allowing you to finally see his facial expression. a simple, blank smile with dark eyes.

"you didn't notice... you didn't notice me following you or the looks you got from other men." he let out a humorless laugh.

“you never even looked around,” he continued, his voice low and unsettling. “too busy, too trusting... always so trusting of them.” he tilted his head again, and the way he said them made your skin crawl.

you took another step back, your eyes darting to the door, to the window, anywhere but his face. you wanted to run.

"it was just an errand run...i don't think anyone was-"

“do you really think they weren’t looking at you?” he asked, his smile never fading. “that they weren’t admiring you? wanting you?” his laugh echoed again, sharp and bitter. "it was pitiful to watch those meaningless people look at you that way."

now, he stood up, extending to his full height. "caleb, you're being delusional." it wasn't the first time he's been jealous, just never to this extent.

"delusional?" he echoed, his voice dangerously soft, and the way he said it made your skin crawl. his smile stretched just a little wider, like a predator savoring the moment before pouncing.

"you think i’m delusional?" he repeated, stepping toward you again, his eyes never leaving yours. “you think they—those strangers—are any better for you than i am?”

you instinctively took another step back, your heart racing in your chest, the fear seeping deeper into your bones. you needed to get away.

"they don’t see you like I do," caleb continued, his voice low, the edge in it sharper now. "they don’t know you like I do. they don’t care about you the way I do." his eyes darkened. "you belong to me."

you flinched at his words, your hands trembling as you tried to push the panic down

"caleb," you whispered, your voice shaking now. "you’re not thinking clearly. please, just—!"

but he was already taking another step toward you, his eyes wild now, the control slipping away as his anger simmered to the surface.

you tried, truly, to bolt to the door as quick as possible.

caleb’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist with terrifying speed, pulling you back with an iron grip that made your breath catch in your throat.

"where do you think you're going?" his voice was low, dangerously calm. it was the kind of calm that made your skin prickle, a warning that sent every instinct inside you screaming.

you tried to twist free, but his hold only tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. your pulse raced in panic, your mind screaming for escape.

"y-you need space to clear your head, i... i can sleep on the couch." your words seemed to only anger him more.

caleb's grip on your wrist tightened and his eyes darkened, lips curling into a twisted sneer. "you think you can just leave like that?" he spat, his voice low and full of venom. "you think i’ll just let you sleep somewhere that's not beside me?"

you could feel the air between you both growing thicker, charged with a dangerous energy that made the room feel suffocating. your mind raced, grasping for anything—anything—that might calm him down, that might give you a chance to slip away.

his hand that was holding onto your wrist traveled up your body, rubbing into your skin gently. when he got to your collarbone, he increased the pressure, surely trying to leave a mark.

he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your face, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you—but instead, he bit your lip.

the unexpected pain caused you to whimper and flinch away from him.

his hand slid further up your neck, and the pressure on your collarbone only intensified. it was suffocating, the way his touch had gone from gentle to possessive, to painful. you tried to move away, but his grip was unrelenting.

“i’ve been patient,” caleb continued, his voice low and rough, a mix of frustration and something darker. “but you’re making this so hard. you’re making me prove to you how much you need me. how much i need you.”

he paused for a second, and that's when you felt something cold wrap around your neck: the silver necklace you gifted him in childhood.

the action caused your heart to speed up. “you look gorgeous marked by me,” he whispered gently as he placed his forehead against yours.

with a cautious approach, you wrapped your arms around him and tried to calm your breathing, hoping he was finally calming down.

well, your actions seemed to only make things worse.

“y-you’re still so sweet, so soft, even after i treat you like this?” there was a vulnerability in his eyes that immediately hardened.

his body tensed against yours, his nails digging into your back ever so slightly. “you’re too good to me,” he murmured, almost to himself. his voice wavered, filled with something unsteady, something desperate. “too good.”

his forehead was still pressed to yours, but his eyes had darkened again, flickering with a storm of emotions. “you should hate me right now,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "you should be afraid of me."

he pulled back just enough to search your face, his gaze burning into yours, as if trying to understand why you weren’t running. why you weren’t screaming.

his hands slid down your arms, then back up, his touch almost reverent. "but you're still here," he murmured, his head tilting slightly. “even after all this. why?”

you swallowed thickly, trying to steady your voice. "because i love you, caleb."

the thin string keeping him together snapped.

he quickly lifted you, your legs wrapping around his torso. he threw you onto the bed, crawling on top of you. "i love you too, so much." he used the chain around your neck to lift your head to the same level as his.

your breath hitched as the cool metal of the necklace pressed into your skin, restricting your movement just enough to make your pulse race with something between fear and disbelief. caleb’s face was dangerously close, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a feverish intensity.

“you have no idea,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion, “just how much i need you.”

his grip on the chain tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that you were completely at his mercy. his free hand trailed along your jaw, his touch achingly gentle compared to the rough way he handled you moments before.

his lips found yours in an intense kiss, the hand wrapped around the necklace moved to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, his other hand moving to the buttons on your blouse.

he paused for a second, looking into your eyes, "are you okay?"

you nodded and pulled him back into a kiss, your own hand tugging at his shirt that barely concealed his toned body. he sent you a small smile as he took off the article of clothing.

your blouse slipped from your shoulders, and he took his time, pressing his lips to every inch of newly exposed skin as if committing each spot to memory. "so perfect," he murmured against you, his breath warm, his voice filled with something raw. "all mine."

when you let out a particular whine when he reached your sensitive spot, he moaned and bit down harder. he glanced up at your face, noticing you were biting your lip, tearing at the fragile skin.

his brow furrowed as he brought two fingers up to your mouth, gently shoving them down your throat. "only i can bite your pretty lips, okay?"

you whined around his fingers as he continued marking up your chest and neck.

his fingers pressed down just enough to make you gasp, your teeth and tongue brushing against his skin as he watched you with dark, lidded eyes. "that's it," he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. "bite me, sweetheart."

your body trembled beneath him as he continued his slow, deliberate assault on your skin, his lips trailing lower, teeth grazing sensitive spots just to feel the way you reacted. every sound you made only seemed to spur him on, his grip on you tightening with every little whimper and whine that left your lips.

he pulled his fingers from your mouth, dragging them down your chin, smearing the spit along your jaw before cupping your cheek. "you're so beautiful like this," he whispered, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, soothing over where you'd bitten too hard. "mine to love, mine to take care of."

you tugged on his hair, the grown-out mullet soft in your hands, making him let out a whine of your name.

his reaction sent a shiver down your spine, the sound so raw and desperate that it made your grip tighten instinctively. caleb's breathing grew heavier, his lips parting as he looked down at you with a mixture of adoration and hunger.

"you know what you do to me, don't you?" he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. his hands slid down your sides, fingers squeezing at your hips before settling there, holding you in place. "you drive me insane."

you smirked slightly, tugging at his hair once more just to hear that sweet sound again. "good," you teased, voice breathy, "it's only fair."

"'s not nice to tease, pipsqueak."

"what are you gonna do about it?" you taunted, fingers still tangled in his hair, giving another playful tug.

his grip on your hips tightened, and in a swift movement, he flipped you beneath him, pinning you against the mattress. his hands caged you in, his weight pressing into you just enough to make your breath hitch.

"oh, sweetheart," he purred, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "you really wanna test me tonight, huh?"

your heart pounded in anticipation, but you held your ground, looking up at him with a teasing smile. "maybe."

caleb chuckled, low and husky, his breath fanning against your skin. "guess i’ll just have to remind you who’s in charge then, won’t i?"

before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, stealing every word, every breath, until all you could think about was him.

bonus:

as you lay in his arms, you couldn't help the nagging thought at the back of your mind. "hey, caleb?"

he hummed in response, pulling you closer to his chest. "you... you really followed me the entire day?"

"yeah, it's a cute little pastime. get to see you window shop and stuff," he said with no shame whatsoever. "what kinda boyfriend would i be if i let you out alone?"

"a normal one."

he let out a small laugh, "go to sleep, [name]. we can't have you ruining your sleep schedule. need me to tell you a story?"

[emoboybrony]

Ill admit ive never been that into laurence (any his variations really) but something has been really bothering me since rewatching parts of MCD.

What really caught my attention about MCD Laurence is that he starts out as this well adjusted, loyal knightly and charming guy- and then after he becomes a shadow knight you just see this slow decay of him. Like hes slowly losing parts of himself and its causing him to become more and more unstable to the point where by the end of season 2 hes honestly kind of terrfying.

And ALOT of that is reflected with how his relationship with aphmau starts to shift. He goes from this sweet, suave and honestly pretty silly personality, to being so obsessive and vindictive towards her.

Theres this one scene, at the end of ep 95 S2, where aphmau has just essentially seen a ghostly image of aaron and is really shaken up by it. Laurence comes to sit with her and ask her about it. And at first, it genuinely seems like hes just trying to get her to open up so he can support her. But then it quickly spirals into him demanding to know why she cares about aaron so much and why shes greiving so hard for him, like its a problem. He becomes so aggressive and condensending to the point where Garroth has to intervene and he walks off.

In this moment you see how far hes really fallen, he goes from semingly reasuring and gentle, and by the end of it hes disrepecting a dead man, who gave his life to save both his brother and supposed love of his life, who he travelled and fought along side with for months, who close to the end of his life was taking care of an orphan (something he comlimented in aphmau), and hes thowing all of that out the window because hes taken Aphmau's attention, due to the fact he fucking died.

After that happens, aphmau has a conversation woth vlyad where he basically tells her that laurence has to accept what he is and go to the nether or else hes gonna go insane, and that the only reason he came back is because hes "chasing a fantasy". Aphmau responds by suggesting they get cadenza over so that he can be with family, and vlyad says she can do what she wants but implies its pretty much inevitable that laurence is going to hit a breaking point. And hes completely right.

Before laurence even gets to speak to cadenza, he eavesdrops on the conversation where aphamu reveals shes pregnant, and just immediately peaces out, out of fear that hes going to MURDER HER.

Not to mention that in that conversation, cadenza herself tells aphmau not to tell laurence because shes scared of how he would react. He has gotten so unstable that his own sister, who loves him more than anything, can recognise that he is a danger to some degree and shes RIGHT.

All this paints a stark contrast, the laurence we first met vs the man he has now become. Its tragic because its this inevitable downfall brought on by an act that was completely selfless, him sacrificing himself that got him turned into a shadow knight in the first place.

Even this is eventually tainted, his selfless act becomes a selfish one as he seems to cling to aphmau's love and affection as an emotional crutch. Aphmau obviously loves and cares for him deeply, but not in an explicitly romantic/sexual way. And if she doesnt love him the way he wants, then why is he suffering through this? Why did he bother to sacrafice himself at all if theres no reward? Its honestly horrifying how pretty much everyone who loved and respected him, makes what should be incredibly out of place predictions on him, but they always end up being right except for aphmau. She cant accept that hes changing and theres nothing she or anyone else can do change that. Its gut wrenching.

This all lead me to beileve that i didnt give enough credit to his character. I love this. This is the type off tragic story telling im here for. Theres so much more to this character than i ever expected.

Heres the thing.

Why the fuck do laurence's biggest fans seem to just completely disregard this? If you believed a good portion of the fandom, laurence is just this sauve uwu sad boy who was unfairly rejected and ignored by a woman who demamded the world from him.

Im dead serious, i saw people saying that laurence "deserved better than aphmau", that he deserved someone who recognised the sacrafice he made. Which like- there is so much to unpack there.

First of all, aphmau did recognise his sacrafice, she did love him and try to support him in the best way she could, even when literally everyone around her was saying it was a lost cause. She did everything she could for that man and forgave so much of what he did while struggling with the calling and she got nothing but shit for it.

Second of all, no the fuck he doesnt?? As illustrated in the examples above he did not respect Aphmau's boundaries. He did not respect her feelings. And by the end, he didnt even respect her bodily autonomy. Lets be honest here, he basically abandoned everyone he apprantly "loved", because bro tapped it before he could. She loved him so much, but because he wanted something she wasnt willing or able to provide, that being explicitly romantic and sexual attention, he just didnt see it. To try and argue that hes the real victim here, is in the same vain of "nice guys finish last". Him being kind, compassionate and selfless- shouldnt be reliant on whether or not this woman will fuck him or not. That is an insanely misogynistic way of thinking.

But most important to me in the context of this analysis- what is there to like about laurence with this interpretation? What possibly sets him apart from the gazillion other brunette pretty anime bois? Am i to gay for this? Is there something im not seeing?

I understand fanon can wildly divert from canon, and i understand that alot of this is probably down to the fact that i find dissecting and critiquing canon more intresting than reinventing it through fanon. Im locked into the Baldurs gate 3 fandom and i had the same experience there (laurence fangirls got NOTHING on Astarion girlies). But both experiences have left me with the same question- what draws you to a character, when all you do is boil them down to their most generic aspects?

I find Laurence intresting cause we are seeing this man crash out and become a monster in real time. And i dont see how he is worth even an honourable mention, when you take that away.

What is there left to be compelled to?

[cooliocumbucket]

Questions

shout-out to the invincible fandom here on tumblr y'all took me out of retirement, the content has been exquisite 👌🏽 the mark edits on TikTok have been my recent obessions as well i been playing the poetic justice one on repeat lol. send me any invincible requests if you'd like, i needed all the variants like yesterday. 🙂‍↕️

tags: porn no plot, cunnilingus, munch!mark, main!mark, relationship off screen, light fluff, clit stimulation

There were so many questions that lingered between you and your boyfriend, Mark Grayson.

He had some and you had some.

Ones spoken out loud and others you preferred to keep in your head.

How long would he survive in his superhero lifestyle?

How could you make his life easier?

Those questions were more complex and had less easy answers then the one currently on your mind.

"Mark, wait-" You moaned gripping a handful of his hair, as multiple kisses were planted on your clit in a sinful rhythm.

How long was this boy going to eat for?

You'd already cum twice before and another seemed a bit much-

Mark began to suckle on your center, his lips a mess as more of your cum leaked into his mouth. Groans at your taste rumbled from his chest and vibrated against your clit.

Scratch that, another seemed to be just fine.

Mark pressed his face further into the warmth of your thighs, his tongue lapping up as much of your cum as he could.

He loved to please you, he loved the feeling of your carpet digging into his knees because the longer he stayed between your legs the more pleasure he could give you.

"Right there!" You sighed, eyelids squeezed shut as the sensation in your stomach tightened and your toes curled.

Your head fell forward, you decided to give some attempt at eye contact again and you realized his eyes had barely fluttered, his focus intensely on you.

His face was so sweet, adoration in his eyes as his tongue slipped inside your hole curling over and over on your spot.

Another thing he was, was attentive, his hands gripping your underside to keep your pussy in his mouth and your skin as close to him as possible.

Mark needed to earn every orgasm, half-assed never cut it for him.

His dick stood stiff against the fabric of his boxers but untouched to make sure both of his hands could stay on you.

Not a thing on the earth deserved more concentration.

Removing his tongue from inside of you, your break was momentary as the pads of his fingertips circled your clit slowly and he got back on the bed.

"How do you wanna come again?" There went one of those pesky questions, since you couldn't answer fast enough, he peppered kisses on your cheeks and picked up his pace assuming you were giving him the choice.

He figured his fingers would do, your nipples needed just as much attention from his mouth.

Running his tongue up one breast he teased you gently before sucking on your tit in full, still making your pussy as messy as possible with his fingers.

Each back-arching breathless moan you'd give, his heart swelled, and the friction in his boxers became harder to ignore.

"I'm about to-" You cut your own words short, fighting against the sensitivity he'd given your pussy. You c

"About to?"He urged you gently,"Come on get it out, you can do it." You attempted to squeeze your legs closed but he wasn't having any of that his speed picking up but the motion never lost.

"Mark-"

"Mark what?" He taunted with a smile and you wished you weren't so delirious from the bliss to hit him.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming-" You whimpered his name like a prayer, his fingers become slicker with your cum as your orgasm washed over your body like a tidal wave.

This one was the best, your legs still twitching even as the aftershock died down and you panted softly. You could feel fingers fucking inside you slowly now and you whined, overwhelmed still.

"Please- no more." You murmured your knees touching your chest, eyes closed as you attempted to gather your thoughts.

Ever respectful he moved his hands from below and sucked his fingers, licking them clean with a satisfied pop.

"Thank you." He said smiling as his head hit the pillow. He moved so fast you blinked and you were in his t-shirt, wiped clean with a towel.

"What are you telling me thank you for?"

"For letting me....you know." The pink blush on his cheeks was so cute but so deceiving, you caught him licking his lips to keep your taste on his tongue.

"We're dating Mark, why wouldn't you be able to do that?" He shrugged bashfully and you giggled lightly, "You sure you don't want me to return the favor?"

"Nah, I don't think its that kind of night." He spoke softly, a dopey grin on his face. You always looked so pretty after you came, a afterglow that made him want to keep you trembling.

"Tuh-" Gazing into his soft brown eyes you knew Mark had one more question before you could turn in.

if anybody was a sucker for validation Mark Grayson would be first on the ticket.

"Did I do good?" He finally asked, you ran your fingers through his tussled dark hair, did he not see you barely keeping it together?

"The goodest."

"That's not a word." Mark scoffed but still grinned, the affirmation easing his anxieties.

"Shut up, nerd."You replied, snuggling him closer into your chest as you both drifted into a nice sleep.

[hedwig221b]

Hello! First, I want to say that I absolutely adore all of your fics, and I love your recommendations. I was wondering if you have any super long Derek fics, I'm not picky on tropes. I just love long fics, peferably 50k or over! Thank you :)

Hi! Thank you so much! I don't know if you wanted Derek-centric fics, or if that was just a typo, so I put together a list of sterek fics over 50k words. Lmk if you wanted Derek-centric ones!

This one's very long...

If You're Lost, You Can Look and You Will Find Me by DaisyBeats

Derek left once the Nogitsune had been defeated, needing to get away from that god forsaken town. 18 year old Stiles is just trying to get through the rest of his senior year without killing his 'best friend' Scott… and missing Derek too much. Stiles goes home one day to find a young man sitting on his bed with no idea how he got there. "Derek?!"

Again, From the Middle by rlnerdgirl

One would think the nogitsune rearing its ugly head again twelve years after having arrived in Stiles’ life the first time would have been the worst of his problems. Surprisingly, or not, it’s the beginning of them. In the aftermath of trying to find a solution to eradicate a thing that cannot be killed, Stiles finds himself a stranger in a strange land. One where the nemeton is a whole tree, the Hale house isn’t burnt to a crisp, and all the Hales are alive and living little Hallmark miracle lives. It’s… disorienting to say the least. Though getting to know a Derek that’s never killed, never been a victim, and never lost is an entirely different matter altogether. It’d be the perfect world, if it were his. For better or worse, Stiles has a world and a home of his own. A dad, friends, and thriving entrepreneurial employment that he’s left behind. All, hopefully, sans nogitsune. Unless he managed to mess that up along with displacing himself. Of course, getting back isn’t nearly as easy as getting… wherever he is. Partly because he has no clue how he got here.

My Name is Derek Hale by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"What day is it?” Derek demanded. “What?” “The day! What day is today?!” Derek let Stiles go, but only so he could reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. He tapped at the home screen, and then went so perfectly still that Stiles was pretty sure this guy wasn’t human. No human could stand that still. When it was clear Derek wasn’t going to move again without some prompting, Stiles said, “It’s Wednesday.” “That’s impossible,” Derek whispered. “Not really, it comes around every seven days.” “This is impossible,” Derek said again, looking around himself, as if he was searching for something.

Actions Speak Louder than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” That was a bad word. Not found. Have. Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

My, What Big Shoulders You Have (The Better to Help You Carry the Weight) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more. “You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?” “It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.” Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes. “I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

"I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!” Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her. “What?! What was that sound?!” “You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder. “Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!” “Mike,” she argued. “Who’s Mike?” Scott asked. “Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

Don't Savage The Messenger by exclamation

There is an uneasy truce between the werewolves in the woods and the humans who live in Beacon Hills, protected by a magical boundary that gives warning any time a werewolf crosses it. Then the sheriff is taken by the werewolves and his son offers himself in exchange. Stiles promises to serve the werewolf pack, not knowing what horrible use they might have for him. But it turns out his most useful skill is the ability to cross the boundary line between humans and werewolves. Life with the werewolves is nothing like he feared and the werewolves themselves are nothing like the hunters' stories would have him believe.

Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth. “Not too close, he bites.” Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting. “He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton. The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.” “Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek. He looked extremely displeased.

By Any Other Name (I Will Always Feel the Same) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Stiles very slowly reached up with both hands and covered his neck as best he could before whispering, “Are you Vampires?” “What? No.” Derek couldn’t help the small laugh of disbelief that slid up his throat, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. It didn’t matter that he was thousands of years old, or that he was bigger and stronger than Stiles was. Somehow, he was pretty sure once this conversation was over, Stiles was going to be able to crush him like a bug, and he hated that feeling. “Didn’t you say he was smart?” Boyd asked. “Hey,” Stiles insisted, turning to him with a glare but not removing his hands from his neck. “Vampires is a perfectly logical guess in this case. And he said I was right on the Supernatural front. Vampires are Supernatural.” “He said you weren’t wrong,” Boyd corrected. “Not that you were right.” “Well, the opposite of wrong is right, so…” Stiles gave him a look, but turned back to Derek relatively quickly, as if realizing he was delaying his own answers. “We’re not Vampires,” Derek said, then let out a small sigh before admitting, “we’re immortal.” Or: The Old Guard AU nobody asked for (except me).

the poets are right by endversed

"Actually, I don’t give a fuck who you are,” Derek says, curling his lip harshly. “This is private property. How the fuck did you even get in?” In an act of quick placation, Stiles throws up two palms facing outwards in front of his chest. His eyebrows knit together as he hastily and vehemently begins to shake his head, trying desperately to telegraph just how severely Derek has grasped at the wrong end of the stick here. “Hey, whoa,” he says. “That’s not –” “You need to get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.” Derek pauses a moment, his nostrils flaring just a second before his eyes flash burning red, his entire face screwing up in this expression of pure disgust that sends a shiver down Stiles’ spine. “Christ, and you’re a human? A human omega? What kind of fucking moron breaks into a werewolves’ house when they’re just a weak fucking human?” An alpha werewolf and a human omega: a love story that was never supposed to happen.

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of….

With Blood on Your Teeth by Melpomene (Aconitehart)

When his dad speaks, it's in a carefully neutral voice. "You saw two wolves tonight." "One wolf," Stiles corrects. "The other was messed up. It had a wolf face, yes, but it was…" He trails off, not sure how to describe the wrongness of it. The way its muscles moved beneath its skin, rippling and bulging unnaturally. "It wasn't right." The sheriff nods. "And you magically threw this deformed wolf across the store?" "I didn't say it was magic." "A beam of light shoots out of your hands," the sheriff says dryly, "and tosses a wolf several feet away. You don't consider that magic?" Stiles fiddles with his IV. It's pumping fluids into him, but not morphine, unfortunately. He could use some unconscious euphoria right now. "I don't know what it was," Stiles says finally. "It's just what happened." His dad sighs. "Do you know that all wolves in this state are tracked? They have electronic collars on. Every wolf in California is a dot on a map somewhere." Stiles bites the inside of his mouth. "There are no wolves around Beacon Hills," the sheriff says definitively.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life. There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

A Tale of Two Princes by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

Given his nature of who he was, Derek Hale, only son to Talia and Marcus Hale, never expected to be married. Hell, he didn't even appear in public. But, after the war with the Argents, their country needed stability. And a political marriage suited that. Shame it had to be the prince of their neighbors to the south. Stiles had no idea where his life would take him. But a marriage of convenience to the crown prince of one of their neighboring countries wasn't exactly on his mind. He had to admit, it would have it perks. Both for the royal family, and for his country. He just didn't know anything about werewolves. Especially ones who were cursed out the ass. Oh well, he'd figure things out as he went.

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void. It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

Not Alone by ModeratelyScathed

When an unexpected visitor shows up with news that leaves Stiles reeling, he suspects that his entire world is about to change. But maybe that's not such a bad thing.

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

Shatter My Reality by Halevetica

Months after the nogitsune, Stiles starts to see his own face around town. He dismisses it as PTSD. That is, until Lydia starts having a feeling that Stiles is going to die. As the pack scramble to find out what is going on, Stiles is forced to face a ghost from a past he didn't know he had and a future that seems to threaten his place in the pack.

In Case The Daylight Never Comes by plume_bob

There's a relentless dark shape tearing through the pack and that's only the half of it. Stiles just wants to sleep and stop being haunted by the faces of his night-time tormentors. His dad thinks he's suffering from post-traumatic stress, Scott thinks he's suffering the after-effects of the ritual; Stiles thinks they're both reasonable theories, except for the part where Derek Hale is the only thing that can take his nightmares away and it seems that fact is no coincidence.

An Apple's Blossom by Dexterous_Sinistrous

Derek had an aura about him—one that drew you into his orbit despite the warning of an imminent threat. It was like a dream, more than Stiles realized at first. Because it wasn’t real. Nothing about the man Stiles had started to fall in love with—romanticize—was real. ~*~ Stiles is a recently graduated art student who agrees to marry his family's rival, only to realize that maybe love is a little more complicated than he first thought.

Cloaked in Gold by kaistrex (weishen)

Stiles' world tilts, the bed dipping as a weight settles over him, caging him in. Growling. His eyes flutter open in distant confusion as hot air sweeps over his throat and he stares up at twin beams of gold shining inches from his face. Werewolf. Stiles does the only thing he can. “DAD!” The werewolf jumps at the sudden shout, blanketing him tighter, and it’s only seconds until his dad is in his bedroom doorway with Melissa close behind, flicking on the light. Stiles' mouth drops open as he stares up at the thick eyebrows, sharp nose and perfectly groomed stubble of a golden-eyed and fanged Derek Hale. - When son of the Alpha, Derek Hale, ends up in his bed in heat, Stiles decides to use it to his advantage and secure the Bite for his sick stepbrother. As he and his family are welcomed into the Hale pack, Stiles grows closer to Derek than he'd ever dreamed he'd get, but with the fanged Soulbite of a born wolf on Derek's neck, he knows he's just setting himself up for heartbreak. Derek has a Soulmate out there, and it definitely isn't Stiles.

When the Dust Has Settled by halcyon1993

After Gerard’s defeat, no one is sure where they stand. Stiles is angry at Scott and doesn’t know why his head is suddenly filled with thoughts of Derek Hale. Derek doesn’t know why Scott’s betrayal isn’t as painful as the prospect of Stiles being in on it. As they ignore their developing feelings for each other, a freshly resurrected Peter Hale schemes to get them together. No one ever said he’d go easy on them, though. After all, where would be the fun in that?

Shovels and Dirt by bellefire

The nogitsune’s power doesn’t leave Stiles after the spirit is defeated. No, it seems Stiles was changing and knowing what that darkness did to his friends he refuses to put them in danger again. He leaves without a word. Now in a new city with not quite new friends Stiles realizes no one can run forever. Because family doesn’t back down and also, yeah, that fuckin’ tree really is talking to him.

And some of mine, as a cherry on top

Twilight

Derek. Stiles thought about him the most. Something told him that it wasn’t the last time, far from it. He thought about his softness and his open desire to kill. Stiles’ hands remembered the heat of his hands. His neck longed to feel the coating warmth of Derek’s breath. His lips burned from the kiss that never happened. Everything was so fucking complicated. Except one thing. It was the only clear thought in his head. The one that made his stomach clench from fear, his heart stutter from hope, and his lips stretch in a smile. He was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Derek.

Yes To Heaven

Stiles ruined him. The damage was irreparable. He didn’t want the food that wasn’t made by Stiles or shared with him; the water tasted stale; the clothes were asphyxiating and scratchy; the air was wrong, wrong without Stiles’ scent in it. Fuck, what was wrong with him? How could that pretty little thing change him so much? He had an iron grip on his control before, being in tandem with his instincts, but within weeks, all of it was gone. As soon as he thought of Stiles, though, of his scent, his moans, and the little wrinkle on his forehead as he orgasmed, his mind settled. What was life before Stiles? Everything was somewhere far, far away, forgotten, bleak, and meaningless. Derek thought he knew what light was as he looked at the microscopic dots of the stars above. Then Stiles came into his life and showed him the sun.

Predators

He was born for this. Nature itself whispered into his ear where he should put his hands, how to twirl his tongue just right and when to bite. Stiles knew well enough that his saliva was currently working its magic on this unfortunate man, making him hungry, lustful, and insatiable. Soon, all his thoughts would be consumed by Stiles. And, just this once, Stiles would allow Derek to consume him.

Treasure

"I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.” It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.

Wait For Me

"Stiles, we know about your Spark,” Scott looked at Stiles with desperate eyes, trying to convey something. “He is the Werewolf who's been chasing you. You must run. We’ll help you…” Stiles stared at his friend, genuinely concerned for his sanity, because the nonsense he was sputtering was really fucking confusing.

Other fic recs: angsty fics | possessive Derek | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles + pt2 | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles + pt2 | oblivious!Stiles | bad friend Scott | pack mom!Stiles | unrequited love | werewolf!Stiles | dark sterek | single parent!Stiles | feral Derek | arranged marriage | Stiles is underestimated | mpreg w/o abo | accidental knotting | jock!Derek | jock!Stiles | alive Hales | spanking | royal abo au | longfic | void!Stiles

[junkpuppet225]

note: Your wish is my command. Part Seven. There’s prob gonna be a part 8. Pinch of smut. A dash of angst. I hope you like it! DarylxFem!Reader. This goes along with the episode East, Season 6 Episode… 16? So spoilers and all that jazz. Enjoy!

You hold your fist up to Denise in a “pound it” motion, receiving a nervous smile as your knuckles touch and she readies herself to leave with Daryl and Rosita. Why she wants to do this you’ll never understand. She’s the only doctor in Alexandria and she has zero experience being outside this gated community. This is a mistake.

“You sure you want to do this?”

Tara will never forgive any of you for letting her go but birds gotta fly and you’re not her keeper. Plus she’s going out there with two complete apocalyptic badasses even if you still narrow your eyes at the thought of Rosita’s horde of luxury lotions she thinks you don’t know about.

The thought takes you back to that night and every other night Daryl’s stood outside your bedroom door desperate for a moment of peace only you can provide. Nights when his fingers sank into your hair the second you open the door - nights that have left an ache embedded deep inside your chest.

Once his shoulder healed things got busy in Alexandria. Pete killed Reg, Rick killed Pete, the wolves, the quarry full of walkers - the food shortage. It’s left your people - Rick’s people - exhausted, physically and mentally and none more so than his right hand. Some nights Daryl comes to you just to wrap himself in your embrace and sleep.

That sharp ache surges through you at the thought of his tired eyes and how he does whatever needs to be done for the community without question or regard for himself. He puts his own wellbeing and happiness off for the good of the group and it breaks your heart a little more every time you have to witness it.

“I want to help.” Denise assures you, answering a question you’ve already forgot.

“Ya got any requests?”

Daryl’s rough voice is at your back suddenly, his hand idly brushing against your hip to bring your attention to him. “Just that you come back in one piece.” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them, raising the archers eyebrow as you gape at him with wide eyes. You’ve kept these thoughts buried for so long they sound foreign on your tongue. “All of you, I mean. Everyone. Just, come home safe.”

“Always do.” He assures searching your eyes for a long moment with his hand still searing against your skin - calloused fingers idly brushing just under the hem of your shirt. When Denise starts speaking, pleading her case as to why she should go he brings it back to his side giving her most of his attention but glancing back to you now and then while you memorize every detail of his face.

“Promise me.” You whisper, cutting off the doctor’s words as his eyes fall to your parted lips. It takes every ounce of your self control to keep the distance between the two of you - you want to fall to your knees and beg him to sit this one out but you know it’s not your place. Your relationship isn’t a secret, most people give you knowing grins when they see you together but they’ve got it all wrong. This isn’t that and Daryl is just the hot archer you let into your life and your body without question. As soon as the rising sun kisses the horizon he’s off to do whatever’s asked of him leaving you with that sharp, crippling ache you never breathe a word of to anyone. You’re not trying to fall in love in this ruined world and Daryl Dixon’s convinced himself he doesn’t deserve it anyway.

Denise and Rosita watch your interaction with curious eyes, mirroring Daryl’s expression as the gears in his head turn. You deserve so much more than he could ever offer you so he forces himself to ignore the ache you leave inside of him, even if it’s slowly killing him.

“I promise.” He finally says, the few words a low whisper between the two of you and they give you no relief or reassurance. The tight ache in the center of your chest only intensifying with each passing moment as you watch the beat up truck stall about three times before the gears grind their way through the large gate, making a mental note to teach Daryl how to drive stick when they get back.

X

When Dale died he felt guilt. With Merle it was anger, Beth - sorrow but now as he forces his shovel into the dry dirt over and over again he just feels empty. Hollow like his heart isn’t even beating. This is on him. He knew better than to bring her. Denise had no fucking reason to be outside of these walls and now she’s gone.

You’re standing across the shallow grave from him with your arms wrapped around yourself. For you the tears of grief don’t come anymore - you’ve lost to much since all this started but that ache in your chest makes it hard to breathe. You should have never let them take her. She didn’t belong out there. Now Tara’s girlfriend is dead and Alexandria doesn’t have a doctor. You can’t even begin to think about what that means for Maggie and her baby.

“The antibiotics you brought back could save Eugene from an infection. Denise did that.”

It’s Carol who speaks but her voice sounds far away - eyes fixated on Daryl as he digs, only stopping to pull another mini bottle of Jack Daniel’s from his pocket to swallow it down in one quick gulp. You watch him toss it to the ground on top of six other empty bottles before returning to the task with a grunt.

“I’m gonna go check on Judith.” You say to no one, eyes lingering on Daryl a moment longer before turning on your heels.

X

“How many more of those do you have?”

Carol’s voice comes out strained as she watches Daryl toss another empty bottle to the pile before grabbing the shovel again. He’s reverted back to only speaking like a cave man with grunts and the occasional growl.

“Have you at least ate something?”

“Yeah.”

He’s lying and he knows she knows he’s lying but he doesn’t really give a fuck, idly wondering why she needs to be here with him while he does this. You know when to give him some fucking space, Carol should take a hint.

“Daryl, this isn’t your fault.”

He dig’s harder.

“Daryl.”

He closes his eyes tightly, taking in a shallow breath as the booze in his system starts making the world spin faster. Fuck. When they open again he resumes digging, ignoring Carol’s glare. “What?” The word comes out low and dangerous, like he may snap any second. This is his fault. He should have killed that motherfucker the first time he crossed him. Denise paid the price for that. Who else is going to pay for his mistakes?

What if it was you out there with them and that pricks bolt sunk into your head? Picturing you lying in this grave sends his shovel to the ground roughly as he searches his empty pockets for another bottle of liquor.

“Motherfucker.”

“Daryl, Denise—-.”

“Don’t, alright? Just fuckin’…, don’t.”

He doesn’t need a pep talk about how this isn’t anyone’s fault but the asshole from the burnt forest. He needs you and the peace you fucking bring him. Then he’s going to hunt that fucker down and make him wish whoever fucked up his face finished the job. Daryl stalks off from Carol to go find you with another low grunt. “Daryl, don’t take this out on her.” Carol calls after him but he’s already halfway there.

X

You close the door behind you as you leave Judith’s bedroom spotting Daryl climbing the stairs a second before he sees you. He looks angry. The muscles in his shoulders and arms wound as tight as coils with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. When he spots you that anger doesn’t go away it just makes room for the desire that fills his ocean eyes.

You brace yourself for the impact of his chest crashing into yours causing your back to hit Judith’s door, quietly pleading with him to calm down before he wakes her. “Alright.” Is all he says then his mouths on yours using his weight to hold you in place. It brings on a sudden rush of adrenaline mixed with fear and sorrow. It’s only a matter of time before he goes after that asshole they killed Denise. He fills your mouth with his desperate tongue, gripping your hips so hard he leaves bruises on your skin. You know he’s hurting and you know there’s nothing you can say to take that pain away right now so you do the only thing you can to keep him here with you.

You kiss him back. Brushing your tongue across his as he groans into your mouth and grasps your ass - lifting you up in his arms as if you’re weightless before bringing your legs around his hips. He smells like whiskey and he doesn’t break your kiss until he’s all but tossed you on his bed, climbing over your heaving chest to find your mouth again. This time isn’t like the first time. It’s not innocent and fun. It reminds you of the night you stood in the middle of Alexandria surrounded by a massive herd of walkers covered in rotting entrails. You watched silently as Daryl climbed to the top of that truck and fired a fucking bazooka into the man made lake just past this house. That night after you washed away one of the worst days of your life he was waiting for you outside of your bedroom. That night he kissed you just like this.

Desperately.

Your fingers rake into his hair as his mouth moves to kiss your jaw, then your throat - resting his forehead against your sternum as he takes in a deep breath gripping your waist roughly. “Jus’…, fuck… jus’ gimme a second.” The room is fucking spinning from too much Jack Daniel’s on an empty stomach - he can almost hear his brother calling him a pussy from beyond the grave. He lifts his face to yours slowly, hooded eyes searching before falling back to your soft lips. “…could’a been you out there.”

The heartache in his voice brings your back off the bed as you help him sit up placing your hands on his hot face as he watches you with tears threatening his eyes. “Was bad enough it was Denise…, but you.. if you…” The thought of you lying lifeless before him with a bolt in your brain causes him to choke on a quiet sob as you bring him to your chest.

Daryl buries his face in the bend of your neck wrapping strong arms around your body as your fingers sink into the back of his hair. “Daryl, I’m right here.” That thought gives him no comfort because he knows all to well how quickly you can be taken away. He says your name, barely a whisper against your throat as you tighten your fingers into his hair forcing him to lift his eyes to yours again. The words he’s so desperate to say are trapped in his throat as he runs a hand over your cheek, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip before he’s kissing you again.

You wish you could say you forced him to stop, made him go downstairs and eat something or talk about all these feelings inside of his head but you never claimed to be strong - especially when it comes to Daryl so you return his kiss just as fiercely, pulling your shirt over you head before demanding his, buttons flying from your shorts as he jerks then down your thighs - pushing you back onto the bed so he can sink into you deeply.

Once he’s inside of you all of the fucked up shit going on disappears and there’s just you and him and the soft groans between you. You card your fingers through his unruly hair as your eyes meet, his thrusts slow and deep - never wanting this to end, never wanting to go back to the outside world. Just as your fingers tighten in the back of his hair to bring his lips to yours he bends his face into your shoulder as a sudden rush of emotion surges through him.

“I love you.”

Everything stops - his slow moving hips, the deep thrusts - even his lungs stop taking in air as he keeps his head bowed beside yours. What the fuck did he just say? He whispers your name against your throat as your fingers slip from his hair, trailing feather light strokes down his back as he finally lifts his eyes to yours - surprised to see the hint of a smile on your lips. “Daryl…, I love you too.” You assure him softly as his mouth finds yours, kissing you until you’re a squirming mess beneath him as he begins to move again - harder this time, bringing your back off the bed as you clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your deep moans. “F-fuck, Y/N—-, s-say it again.”

“I love you.” His grunts turn into soft whimpers as you grip him so fucking hard he’s seeing stars, spilling into you a moment later as you wrap your arms around him tightly. You know Daryl better than most and you know this is some kind of fucked up goodbye before he leaves to kill Dwight. You can’t lose him. He can’t leave you again. “D-Daryl, please don’t go after that asshole that killed Denise.” You whisper against his jaw, hot tears pouring from the corners of your eyes as you cling to him.

His back goes stiff at your words, brushing your tears away with a slight nod. “M’not goin’ anywhere.” He’s always lied so easily. Merle taught him how to lie before he taught him how to speak so it comes easy to him when he needs it but he wasn’t lying when he said he loved you. He felt that shit deep in his fucking soul. It just doesn’t change what happened on those train tracks yesterday. That motherfucker deserves to die for what he’s done. “Promise me.”

Daryl whispers your name, silently begging you not to ask this of him. “Daryl. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

He whispers he loves you again later that night while he fucks up into you against the shower wall then again as you’re falling asleep wrapped up in his strong arms. He even says it in his head the next morning, chewing his bottom lip as he fights an inner battle before he slips out of the room without a sound. You’re his last thought as he sinks down to his motorcycle and guns it towards Alexandria’s gates to make this right.

[karespocketboyfriends]

𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜 (𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜)

Sylus X Evie (OC)

Warnings -> Adult humor, Evie wants to climb her boss, Luke & Kieran being problem children, pre-relationship

An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.

This is wrong on so many levels.

I can't help it, though. At the end of a day, I'm a human. A human who appreciates beauty no matter what style the artwork comes in.

And my boss is a work of freaking art.

I'm trying my hardest not to salivate as I watch the video playing on my laptop, a video that has absolutely nothing to do with the work I just can't seem to focus on. As Sylus' personal assistant, I know the man's routine by heart. Know that he enjoys boxing as a workout. What I didn't know that he has a history of competing in tournaments until now. Filmed tournaments, at that. Hence how I've gotten myself into this position, damn near going feral over a video of my boss duking it out in a boxing ring with another competitor.

I've seen Sylus in athletic attire before, have had to interrupt his workouts time and time again due to the sudden arise of something urgent. I've noticed how sculpted his body is, but have never had time to truly appreciate it. I shouldn't be appreciating it this much, it's just not professional.

But damn, those are a thick set of arms. The cameraman must have been just as obsessed, because even on video, I can see the way his skin glistens with sweat, how his dark top clings to his abdomen.

I should be disturbed by the sudden 'I wish that were me' thought that runs through my head, but I'm not. My attention is too hyper fixated on Sylus' huffs and grunts as he attacks and blocks, something in the pit of my stomach starting to pulse at the concentration etched onto his face.

I can't help but set the end of my pen between my teeth. Then, in a hushed voice, I practically sigh my desires into existence. "I wanna climb that man like a damn tree."

"Which man?"

I scream and slam my laptop shut. Whipping my spinning desk chair around, I stare wide-eyed at the insufferable twins who have somehow, once again, slipped into my office undetected. "You- Get out!"

I don't need to see their faces to know they're snickering beneath their masks.

Poking my head into music room, I find Sylus sitting on the very large, very expensive leather couch. His head is tilted back, resting against the top of the couch, arms crossed and eyes closed. He looks to be asleep, but I know that’s not the case.

Quietly, I enter and make my way over to him. Sylus cracks an eye open as I near, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to, and neither do I. Work closely with someone long enough, and words are no longer needed when it comes to certain things.

Flashing him a small smile, I place a glass of whiskey on the small, wooden round table next to the couch. Then I turn and head to the massive wall that showcases his music collection. Sylus has got everything, from classical to blues to jazz, some in the form of records and others in old fashioned tapes.

I select one of the jazz records and carry the big black disk over to the antique record player. I can feel a pair of eyes on me as I work to get the record in place, but it doesn’t intimidate me like it once did. Now, it’s quite comforting in a way I can’t explain. Like I’m being looked after, considered.

I quickly realize that it’s not one pair of eyes watching me, but two, and their intent is not as innocent as I originally thought.

“Hey, boss,” Kieran’s voice comes out of no where. “If you need some time to relax, why don’t you try some tree climbing?”

My body goes still.

“Oak trees are my favourite.” Luke pipes in. “Lots of different sizes and shapes for those ones.”

“I’m rather fond of baobabs myself.” Kieran continues. “I like a challenge.”

They wouldn’t.

But they would.

Luke’s snicker sends my heart into a panicked race. “I know Evie’s favourite tree to climb is a Sy-”

“Sycamore trees!” I exclaim way too loudly, whirling around to face the trio that have altered my life forever. For better or worse is up for debate.

Sylus, who at some point during the interaction sat up, raises a brow at my rather enthusiastic proclamation. Luke and Kieran are standing behind him, and as much as I want to, there’s no way to flip them off without Sylus noticing. Bastards.

“Sycamore trees.” Sylus repeats slowly, as if he’s still processing whatever the hell is going on here. I can’t blame him.

‘Too late to back out now.’

Nodding firmly, I fold my hands behind my back. “Yes. Their branches are very thick. Nice and sturdy.”

Luke sinks to the floor while Kieran starts to tremble with the strain of trying to remain composed.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. “And where, pray tell, have you found a sycamore tree to climb?”

I blink, my brain taking a second too long to come up with an answer. “My childhood. The N109 Zone wasn’t always this way, you know?”

I need to get out of here before this turns into something I’ll never be able to recover from.

“Oh, you’ve finished your drink. Allow me to take care of that for you.” I zip over to him and pluck the empty glass from the table. “Enjoy the rest of your quiet time, Sir. I’ll make sure this glass is cleaned with tender loving care.”

At that, Luke and Kieran, who have been fighting to stay quiet, erupt into two volcanos of cackles. My face heats as I dart out of the music room, practically slamming the large door behind me.

My legs are moving with the speed of a roadrunner, and I yank my phone from my pocket to send a message to the twins.

Little V

I am going to murder the both of you and bury you in the same grave.

Then I’ll take myself out on top of it.

Nestled in the heart of the N109 Zone, hidden within a false exterior of an old warehouse, is a library so grand it’s almost something out of my dreams. Tall, creaky wooden shelves almost reach the ridiculously high ceiling, rickety sliding ladders mounted every couple cases to give customers access to the higher levels.

These records and books are so old, not just anybody can access them. But when the boss of Onychinus comes knocking with his entourage in tow, entrance is given without question.

“I appreciate the ambiance, but do they really have to make it so dark in here?” I huff, squinting as I scan yet another line of books for the tome my boss is looking for.

Said boss is working through the section behind me, a pillar of calm despite the almost twenty minutes we’ve been searching. “I thought you would be more excited about this. We’re surrounded by your favourite toys, kitten.”

I roll my eyes at that climb another step on the ladder. “My favourite ‘toys’ involve different worlds and people falling in love, not the history of the real world or people who’ve lived in it.”

The titles on the spines start to blur together, a sign that my eyes need a break. Turning my head with a sigh, I stare at the bookcases behind me, scan the upper shelves since I, for once, have the height advantage between the two of us.

That’s when I spot it, a thick book bound in old leather, the trim along the top and bottom of the spine done in rusted metal. The spine is so worn the title is illegible, but I saw pictures of what Sylus is after, and there’s no doubt that this is it.

Instead of climbing down to move the ladder, I grab onto the shelves and pull to wheel it closer to the tome. Once in position, I turn, essentially standing backwards on the ladder, and go for it. The aisle is narrow enough that I can reach it, even though I do have to lean forward a little.

My fingers just manage to tilt the tome out of the lineup when the ladder’s step gives out from under me. I plummet with a screech, the tome falling with me and hitting the floor with a loud thud.

I, however, never land. I’m caught before I can get that far, something strong and solid gripping me beneath my thighs. On reflex I wrap my arms and legs around whatever saved me. Or rather, who saved me. The realization comes quickly, that my saviour is my boss, and that my boss’ very large, very strong arms and hands are supporting me. That his heavenly sculpted abs are nestled between my thighs, his broad and dependable shoulders solid beneath my hands.

‘I am going to spontaneously combust.’

Sylus, who had stumbled back a step from the sudden catch, narrows his eyes. “Either you planned this on purpose, or you’ve forgotten that my Evol is useful.”

Right. I’ve witnessed him lift men off their feet with his Evol. “I-”

A wolf whistle echoes down the aisle, followed by a voice. Luke’s voice. “Wow, Evie. You finally made it to the top of your sycamore tree.”

Kieran starts to applaud. “Are those branches as thick and sturdy as you imagined?”

Those two. Dead. Now.

I thrash in Sylus’ arms until he ungracefully drops me, then I bolt after the twins who have already started running.

Three minutes later, all four of us are being kicked out.

At least we got what we came for.

[azaharinflames]

I was rewatching 705, because - reasons, and oh. my. God. I remembered the scene with Maddie well enough, but upon rewatching?

It couldn't be more clear that, never, at any point, she insinuates anything about Eddie. Which I know we all know, but it's been some months since my last rewatch, so it got my attention. During the conversation, Maddie is trying to coach Buck through his feelings, trying to make them easier to understand. Buck is not making it easy on her, though not on purpose. He just doesn't fully know what he's feeling yet, declares himself to be an ally, and to still like women, and to be a fraud for lying to Eddie.

Maddie sees this, sees that her brother has started to have feelings (for Tommy!!) he had never felt for a man before, and tells Buck to first figure out his feelings first. But, unlike what that side of toxic fans has said in the past, she does not say this because she thinks Buck is confused, or that he doesn't feel things for Tommy, but for Eddie. Maddie is telling Buck to be patient with himself, look at his feelings, and identify them as best as he can.

What she is doing in that scene is helping Buck not feel as guilty as he was feeling for lying to Eddie, because she saw and she knew that it wasn't lying. That Buck had to be kind to himself and give himself time, and acceptance, before he felt ready to tell people.

And she did respect his feelings for Tommy the whole time. Did not question them, did not tell Buck to forget about him, and instead encouraged him to talk to her about the hot pilot.

I know I am coming into this debate pretty late lmao, but during my rewatch her intentions are so damn clear, and I am once again floored as to how people are misinterpreting that. Maddie was not thinking Buck was in love with Eddie, not for a single second during that conversation. The show made it pretty damn clear.

[aangelinakii]

LOVE IS MORE THICKER THAN FORGET.

— love is less always than to win.

summary : you're a poet, it's your every being. once you start dating damian, all you can write about is your love for him. he's not at all mad when he finds it. actually, he's just surprised.

note : bt dubs the poem in the title and subtitle are exerpts from love is more thicker than forget by e. e. cummings :)

also a mini tw : mention of food and dieting but it's literally just a mini mention

requested !

with damian wayne in your hands, in your heart, there was nothing else in this world you could want. from his thoughtfulness to his playful sarcasm, and the way he is so proud of you in front of his friends and family, dating damian is a breeze.

he's easy, soft, kind — although thorny when he wants to be, and never is it directed towards you.

you've always been a writer, unable to keep your heavy feelings at bay, fingers forced to express everything inside through metaphors and carefully thought-out analogies.

and, with damian, you've never felt so comfortable, so warm with a person before now.

when everyone else is asleep, and it's just the lamplight dimly illuminating your bedroom, you scribble down your feelings.

it's not that i have changed, so much as you have changed me, changed my heart, changed my mind. only to believe in a love i never could have thought existed.

damian doesn't know.

the most he knows is how much you show him, through soft fingers entwining, through whispered ´i love you's in a crowded room, through snacks secretly bought for him when he thinks he should stick to his father's decidedly strict diet.

and you know he appreciates you.

you know he appreciates you when he attempts to braid your hair even though he has no idea how to do so, he just wants to create; you know he appreciates you when he watches your favourite movies, with or without you, and references them in conversation; you know he appreciates you when you find paper cranes in your bag, in your pencil case, sometimes in your pockets or left perched somewhere in your room from his last visit, because you know he's made them just for you.

but you're not sure he would even want to know the extent of your fondness for him.

you've been to museums and art galleries together, admired what romantic artists had once made for their true loves. damian seemed to find it quite romantic, too — but you weren't a long-perished poet leaving a legacy of sonnets for lovers to relate to, it would be different if he knew.

he's never said anything to make you think he'd hate it; maybe it's just an insecurity, worried that if you revealed everything your bones were made of, everything your organs pumped for, he would reject you, and those words of love in your journals would turn to words of guilt and sadness, each i dotted with the stain of a tear on paper.

and damian's not nosey, it's not like you've ever been conscious about him finding your journal.

but this time? this time it appears you've left it in plain sight.

it wasn't that you weren't accepted into the warm, money-scented abode of wayne manor; actually, sometimes damian preferred your house, away from the unexpected chaos created by adopted siblings, each of which with their own issues. and that's not saying your place was perfect, but there was an air of calm that waved over him each time he set foot in your room, a little haven of you.

this time, with dark clouds and stormy skies, you had offered damian to come round yours, as opposed to waiting for a chauffeur to pull up outside the gates (and he didn't much like the attention that brought him).

shrugging off his damp blazer and hanging it on the handle of your door, damian huffed out a sigh, placing his raindrop-patterned bag at the foot of your bed.

"i am surprised the weather hasn't got any better," he chuckled, perching himself on the edge of the duvet to unlace his school shoes. "it's almost easter and it's still raining."

"isn't there a saying about showers bringing flowers?" you suggested in return, trying to find the sunshine peeking through the clouds in a situation as damp as this, peeling off your wet blazer and tossing it to the floor, much more careless than damian about the state of your own room. you liked that he was always thoughtful about the way he treated your home.

the corners of damian's lips curled up as he pulled off a shoe and leaned it against one of the legs of your bedframe. "unfortunately i think that's april showers and may flowers."

"okay, so what would march showers be?"

kicking off your shoes, with one flying a little further than you'd anticipated, you joined damian on the puffy duvet of your bed, the mattress springing beneath you.

once both shoes were off, damian fell back against the covers, frame nice and snug beside yours. he turned his head, tan cheeks owning a slight pink flush at the proximity, but the happiness in his gleaming eyes was undeniable. "march showers bring april... superpowers?"

with a playful roll of your eyes, you brought a kind hand to brush against damian's chest, the rain-soaked fabric of his white button-up sending a cool shiver up your knuckles and up your forearm, and down your spine. "like we need any more superpowers in this world. what do you think you would have if you had superpowers?"

damian outstretched an arm to loop around your shoulders, providing both a pillow for your neck and a means for proximity. "i would probably want super strength. i could keep my current physique, but surprise people by throwing them effortlessly."

"no, not what you'd want, what you think you would have," you corrected him, grinning all the while. "like, what would the universe think you deserved?"

raising an eyebrow, he turned his head to catch your expression once again, and still unable to hide any smiles, no matter how small. "alright..." then he gave a sigh and looked back up at the ceiling, as if really giving this some thought. "i think i would deserve to read minds. i think i would hate it, but it might be what i deserve."

"hmm," you hummed, causing damian to look back down at you. "i think it's interesting you think you'd deserve that. but then you'd get to know how i really feel about you." with a chuckle, you pushed yourself up. "you hungry at all? i'm gonna have a look in the cupboards."

damian shifted on the duvet, the arm that had been your pillow coming behind his head to provide one for himself, despite the pillows at his disposal. "i'm not that hungry, but if you see anything that reminds you of me..."

"i'll know what you do," you finished his sentence for him.

with a nod, you disappeared out the left-ajar door, leaving damian alone in a room he wasn't all that used to being alone in.

he didn't mind it, of course, but there was something strangely intimate about being in someone's bedroom without them there, getting to experience where they fell asleep and where they woke up; getting to notice the small details they'd never expect anyone to notice.

damian had never been much of a snooper, especially with you, never wanting to overstep any boundaries or find something you'd rather die than have him find — or something he'd die from finding — but today he felt a tug in his abdomen, pulling him towards your desk.

a little paper crane, folded by him from the page of an english literature textbook, sat beside some unlit scented candles, although he could tell by the blackened wick that they'd been lit sometime before, and their aroma lingered vaguely in the air. he could remember slipping this one into your bookbag the day he'd made it, the edges of its wings crooked and it looked a little smushed overall, but he felt some semblance of pride that you kept it on your desk.

maybe you had a box of the other ones.

before he could stop himself, damian's fingers went to the scattered papers and notebooks on the desktop, noting some unfinished homework assignments, but ultimately looking for any blank pieces of paper he could transform — he'd recently learnt how to fold little dragons.

his eyes found it before his fingers had; buried beneath history books and half-written essays was a journal of sorts, the lined pages it was open on cluttered with paragraphs upon paragraphs.

he caught his name a few times and his interest was piqued, brushing away the loose papers to uncover this mystery.

it's a name that rolls off my tongue the way i do a "thank you" / probably because i am so thankful to have damian in my life, whether he feels the same or not.

i try to lead a normal life, even with him by my side, resist the temptations to take his hand by his family side, to pull him into an earth-shattering embrace / but those eyes take me by the scruff of the neck and i'm forced to stare into them, break through the ice and see what he's made of. or else he'll see what i'm made of.

taken by your unmistakeable handwriting looping words all about him, him, him, damian had barely registered the squeak of the door and the padding of your feet against floor.

"you'll never guess what i got you—"

damian spun around, his fingers pressing into the pages and binding of your journal. he didn't meet your eyes, his gaze instead glued to the ink-met paper, his voice almost accusatory as it cut you off. "i do. i do feel the same."

at first your eyes narrowed and an eyebrow crooked up in confusion. feel the same? of course he feels the same, he's your boyfriend — or, at least, you'd like to hope what he was saying was as straightforward as that.

then you saw it, what was in his hands, the silk, lengthy bookmark draping down from the page you'd left your journal open on, the entire thing trembling ever so slightly. but you knew damian, you knew his tremble. not much could make him tremble.

the plastic bowl of snacks you'd gathered threatened to drop to the floor, but you took a heavy breath and placed it upon the messed duvet of your bed, and tried your hardest not to storm across the room to where damian stood.

when he finally looked up, agreeing silently to meet your eyes, the screw of your mouth faltered. through the oceanic greens flooding his irises, you could see what he was made of; silence and discipline, although thorns now doused in sparkling glitter — your touch on him, you were proud to admit.

"it says you're thankful to have damian in your life, whether he feels the same or not," he spoke, voice quiet, level, despite the tremor in his hands, the waves crashing in those eyes. "i am damian. i feel the same."

you couldn't reply, some strange mixture of shame, guilt and... pride? relief?

his gaze tore from yours, digging back through the pages, flipping slowly back to previous entries.

"i loved you first: but afterwards your love / outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song / as drowned the friendly cooings of my dove— this is a rossetti."

finger stuck beneath the word he had just read, damian looked back up at you, something new in those eyes you had spent so long studying; a crease had appeared in his forehead, eyebrows upturning, giving him the likeness of a puppy, though you would never admit that to him.

damian wayne insisted he was a dobermann — tall, intimidating — when you saw him as a black kitten — spiky, unaware of his connotations.

trying to swallow down everything threatening to spill, you attempted a careless shrug. "well, i like to apply other poets to how i feel."

carefully replacing the journal back to your desktop, although leaving it on the random page he had flipped to, damian continued to look over at you, something twitching in the corner of his mouth. "you know i do love you, don't you? do i not show you?"

here it was: the questioning.

this time everything actually did threaten to come out, lurching up your throat for a moment before simmering back down in your stomach.

shaking your head slowly, you backed down to your bed, mattress and duvet bowinc beneath you, the bowl almost tipping onto its side.

"of course i know. they're just poems."

"poets don't write for no reason, they write what they feel."

"i'm no poet."

who were you kidding?

this boy was the child of bruce wayne — biological, mind you. if mr wayne's eye for detection hadn't been passed down genetically, it had definitely been learned and taught.

damian wayne, like his father, was not stupid enough to ignore the uncertain tone backing your words, or body mannerisms you'd never use under any other circumstance.

he carefully approached, something soft and regretful now shining, but he came to a stop by your side, sitting down so the sheets crinkled again.

"i know you're a poet because i read poems in that journal," damian spoke. "which i apologise for, i know i shouldn't have snooped."

there was a gap of silence. it was okay, you forgave him. but you could still feel his stare boring into the side of your head, drilling through your hair and flesh and membrane and bones to find just what electrical frequencies were flitting around deep in your nervous system.

"i do love you."

"i know," you replied quietly, a smile coming up to your lips as you finally mustered the courage to look at him again.

"and i love your poems. i wish you'd shared them with me before. but just because i've seen them now, that doesn't mean you have to show me every time."

you gave a nod, leaning into him, until your head fit onto his shoulder like a piece from a jigsaw puzzle finding just where it deserves to be.

"and please don't be afraid to ask if you're unsure how i feel about you — because the answer will never change," damian added, the soft weight of his head coming to lean against yours filling you with a minute sense of bliss. maybe he was telling the truth. maybe you could believe him. maybe you could let go of your worries. "maybe the feeling will change, get bigger, but i will always smile when you kiss me."

[burningcheese-merchant]

I yearn for Fire Spirit yap... He's also one of my top favorites from crob and I love hearing about people's interpretations/why they like a character. °☆

I love Fire Spirit so much dude lol. Always have. Been playing Ovenbreak for almost 10 years now (whew) and he won a piece of my heart on minute one

For one, I actually really like his design. Simple and sleek. I adore that smug little smirk of his, so cute. I get annoyed when I see people say they think he looks boring, they're all entirely CRK players and thus don't have the understanding or appreciation for FS that OB players do (this is also seen with Rebel and Wind Archer. It pissed me off how harsh so many players were towards Rebel especially. He looks perfect the way he is). Thin-skinned, know-nothing 12 year olds want overdesigned Genshin Impact characters, like a lot of CRK characters ended up looking like (no shade), bc they're too dumb and immature to understand that less is often more

Second, I really enjoy his voice. His is one of the only English ones I actually like. It's perfect imo. Whenever I read through my PitayaFire fics, it's that voice that I hear when I read his lines lol. (I also love his JP and KR voices ofc. Former especially bc he shares a voice with my favorite anime character)

Third and most importantly, I genuinely love his personality. Asshole with a hidden heart of gold is how I always read him. I can't help but be charmed by his cocky, irreverent attitude. Always running his mouth, always got something to say. He's got wit. He's got a bite. He never takes anything lying down. He will roast you both figuratively and literally, and gladly regardless. But somewhere underneath that dickishness is a genuinely good guy. He's been shown to have a soft spot for children (his arc with Habanero + official artwork depicting him looking after Snow Sugar and Apple + him raising an orphaned Tiger Lily (I know that was in the hanja comics and those were never canon, but shut up. I love that part. It's incredibly sweet and adds a lot of depth to his character. FS and TL are adopted father and daughter, you'll never take that from me)). Despite appearances, he actually does work very hard to keep the Dragon's Valley alive and thriving. He cares about Pitaya Dragon and expresses worry/concern over his declining power/condition (although it's a bit more subtle here; you have to read between the lines and pay attention to his expression/sprite). He's friends with the other Elementals, particularly Wind Archer (always imagined a best bros thing with them). Some way, somehow, despite how he is, he still manages to care for others, and others care for him. When push comes to shove, he comes through. He's the kind of character whose actions prove who he REALLY is, behind his harsh words. A jerk with a good soul deep down.

Furthermore, I adore the mystery of his character. It's long since been revealed that he was not always Fire Spirit; he was a regular old mortal once, and became who he is now through a deal with Pitaya Dragon that saved him from the brink of death. Just who was he in the before time? What was his name? Did he always behave the way he does, or was he a completely different person? Does he remember his past at all? Does he care? Does he miss his old life even a little bit? Does he have any lingering questions or concerns or even regrets about the deal he struck and the life he lives now? (I know he said in one scene that he doesn't regret anything, but one really has to wonder with something of that magnitude.) If he knew what would become of him back then, would he have chosen differently? There's so much to consider, you know? It makes him extremely fascinating, more so than almost any other character in the series

And ugh... his relationship with Pitaya Dragon. God I could rant about that forEVER. There's so much interesting complexity underlining their dynamic. Forever bound, in body and spirit, to the person who saved your life... who did so not quite out of genuine altruism, but because they were so impressed and amused by his persistence in the face of certain doom (that's something else I like about him. FS never gives up. He kept fighting for his own life even as it slipped through his fingers like volcanic sand). Who essentially remade him, liberated him from his suffering and his old life and gave him a brand new identity and purpose - one that he now has no choice but to shoulder for eternity. With how old they both are, they must have such a long and storied history together. They must've said and done so much with, to, for each other during all those long years. They mean something to each other, they must, if only because of that. Again, it's been implied more than once that Fire Spirit is genuinely worried about Pitaya Dragon's well-being; some of it is probably due to them being tied together (something happens to Pitaya, something will happen to FS), yes, but what if there's more? And Pitaya Dragon likes Fire Spirit, he never would've helped him if he didn't. So much so that, in one scene, FS remarks that Pitaya didn't think anything of mortals before they met. It was FIRE SPIRIT who changed Pitaya Dragon's mind about the mortal world and its value. It was FIRE SPIRIT that got the ball rolling to where it is today: with Pitaya fostering real, lasting friendships with mortals and standing up for them when they need help. It's why I'm willing to argue that Fire Spirit is the most important person in Pitaya Dragon's life outside of the other dragons. He's the one who inspired Pitaya Dragon to change his ways, whether anyone realizes it or not. Him, NOT Hollyberry. Fire Spirit did all the work fixing that dumb dragon and it's her that gets all the credit. He was by Pitaya's side long before she was ever born. But no, it's her one-note friendly rivalry with Pitaya that gets all the praise while the far more interesting and complex relationship he has with Fire Spirit gets ignored (or worse, relegated to a bs parent/child headcanon). But that's none of my business ig

I could make a whole separate post just yapping about him with Pitaya tbh lol. It grinds my gears that they've had so little time together onscreen. (My tinfoil hat theory is that Devsis knows that it will be extremely, unequivocally gay and are trying to delay the inevitable. FOOLS!) Hopefully he actually does come out in April/May as was hinted at in leaks, and hopefully he gets time with Pitaya. I need more ship fuel.

TL;DR Snarky Fire Man is my all-time favorite Cookie Run character next to Dark Cacao. Asshole with a heart of gold + hidden layers + fascinating mysterious past + interesting relationships with other characters, primarily Pitaya. If I see anyone say he looks boring when he releases I will lose my damn mind

[worldly-fluster]

I'm... severely sorry I haven't updated anything or wrote anything for a while.

Life. You know? Lotta stuff happened and I'm still trying to come to terms and figure it out lol

But today I just can't get Selkie! Rafayel out of my head

Like, I'll be doing dishes at work and suddenly, I'm thinking about a seal going Bleb

I can't stop thinking about it.

Along with the thought about all the LADS Boys being Selkies...so, I'm gonna write a small head canon story thingy with Selkie!LADS and Reader. I also heard somewhere that Selkies are always larger than normal seals!

Thank you and enjoy 😀

---

How I think they would look like as a Selkie- Rafayel is first in this because he is the reason for this idea lol

Rafayel: A large Harbor Seal

Sylus: A Large Sea Lion

Xavier: A Large Spotted Seal

Zayne: A Large Southern Fur Seal

Caleb: A Large Leopard Seal

---

How you meet

Rafayel- 🦭🐠 🪸

It's been a long day...

A long week honestly. Work has been piling up and now your car has finally kicked the bucket.

Luckily you live only a few blocks from work and the view of the walk is amazing. Why didn't you start walking earlier?? The sea breeze, calming sounds of the waves hitting the rocks and sand, calls of seagulls and adorable Seals...reminding you why you chose to live here in the first place.

Your work ended earlier today because it's a holiday and with nothing to do, may as well visit your favorite spot by the beach.

When you got there, the view was the same as always but you could never get enough of it.

After sitting there for a bit, you noticed a seal had decided a nearby rock would be a nice place to sunbathe and nap. You stared at the cute seal until it lifted it's round head to look around. When your eyes locked with its squinted black eyes, it flinched, let out a 'Beh!' and widened it's eyes.

You both sat frozen, neither wanting to leave their comfy spots. After a few seconds of this, it was as if you both came to a sort of understanding.

You do you and I'll do me.

You both sat there, a good distance apart, watching the sun slowly go down in a peaceful silence.

After a while you figured out- out of curiosity- that the seal was a male, but you couldn't figure out what type of seal he was. He had the coat of a Harbor Seal but the size of a Sea Lion...

Before the sun could go down completely, you stood, getting the seals attention once more. You adjusted your clothes before nodding towards the seal in a goodbye.

He answered with 'Glemph'.

Sylus- 🦭🐦‍⬛ 🌹

You just moved to the sea side after wanting to for most, if not all, your life.

After a few weeks of getting settled in, you decided to go for a quick walk by the sea.

You walked through the shopping district area, following the wooden path all the way to the rocky area by the sea where you can see a few sea lions sun bathing. You look but otherwise leave them be, not really noticing one of the bigger ones glancing over before doing the same.

As you walked past the wooden path onto the beach, you didn't pay any mind to the people around you- there wasn't a lot of people to begin with so you didn't think it would matter.

You didn't notice the two men who seemed to be watching your every move.

After a while of walking the beach, you turn to head back home and you finally noticed the hard stares of the men. Getting a little nervous, you walk a bit faster- they walk a bit faster too.

You make it to the wooden path before you decide to book it and they give chase. You start panicking and in a last ditch effort to lose them, you take a sharp turn onto the rocks where you saw the sea lions.

Not your best move, but you were panicking.

The large sea lion from earlier saw all of this happen, watching you run from two men from the beach onto his rocks. He also noticed you weren't really paying attention and you were getting a little too close...

You were hoping that if you got a little farther onto the rocks, the men would lose interest and walk away and it seemed they did so you slowed down.

Breathing heavily, you kneeled down and breathed out a heavy sigh before looking to the side when you heard movement.

A large Sea Lion sat up almost 10 feet away from you, he stared you down a moment before looking towards the wooden walkway then back at you.

You immediately lifted your hands and took a step back, apologizing.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to get this close, I... didn't have much of a choice."

The Sea Lion huffed, tapping a flipper.

You took another step back, "Sorry, I'll leave."

You slowly made your way back, wanting to make sure the men weren't there and not wanting to bother the sea lion anymore.

The Sea Lion watched you leave with a grumble, noticing the men walking back to the beach.

Xavier- 🦭⭐🌌

You just bought a boat.

Honestly your family thought you were crazy, I mean, who buys a boat when they don't live close to the water? They didn't expect you to completely leave everything behind to go live on the sea.

To be fair, you stayed mostly at the docks, but sometimes it feels better to take the boat out and anchor down a ways out. Far enough for none of the city nor dock noise can reach, the stars looking more beautiful than ever.

On one of these evenings, just as the sun was close to setting and right after you dropped anchor, you had the shock of your life.

There was a splash and the boat swayed a bit to the side. When you went to check what was happening, there was one of the largest spotted seal you've ever seen.

The seal was making small noises, 'geh, geh, geh' the most adorable thing. What else got your attention was the rather sharp looking dorsal fin poking out of the water behind it.

You let out a gasp, getting the seals attention. It made a 'krrrrah' noise as it looked from you to the fin now circling the boat, then back to you.

You held up your hands and moved to the side to peak over the railing, seeing a flash of black and white pass under.

You breathed out heavily before looking back to the seal who was breathing a bit heavily also while looking towards you then back at the water.

"Hey..." You spoke softly, getting it's attention, "it's okay. But I don't suggest getting back in the water...I think I saw more than just one Killer Whale down there."

The seal let out a gurgling noise as it bounced a little more away from the edge, as if it thought it could get snatched up by the multiple whales from here.

"You can stay here as long as you need," you smiled as it looked back over at you, "I know if I were in your situation, I would love a bit of help."

It stared deeply at you for a bit before letting out a small 'eh'.

"Welcome aboard then."

Zayne- 🦭❄️☃️

Caleb- 🦭🦾✈️

You just moved to a small sea side town, one that was known for its seal refuge where they cared for wild seals who just needed a little help.

Just a few weeks into moving into your small house, you ended up with a mild flu so you went to the doctors office down the road in order to get some medication.

When you got to the office the lady at the front told you that the Doctor is out at the moment but she can set up an appointment with him so that's what you did.

After that your mind seemed to fog up a bit from the flu so you thought, maybe some fresh sea air can help? It's nice and cool, probably good for your burning skin right?

You make it to the beach and sat down by the rocky end of it, leaning against one of the large rocks. You watched the ocean lap at the sand, the sound of seagulls and seals mixing with the sound of the sea.

You were so out of it you barely noticed one of the seals bouncing closer from the rocks nearby, tilting his head in curious worry, his little ears flopping with his movement.

When the seal was close enough, in your foggy sick state, you smiled a bit wobbly and raised your hand a little and mumbled, "Cute..." Before passing out.

The seal let out a startled Borf as it saw you fall to the side, luckily only landing in the soft-ish sand.

---

**we'll just say-by Selkie magic- that when he's in seal form, he isn't missing his arm but he does have big scars running alongside the right of his body- kinda needs both fins to swim good lol**

You always love traveling and adventuring out into the unknown.

But you always had a soft spot for seals and the places they lived.

From the small cute Harbor seals- to the big elephant seals. You didn't care. Your favorite one though? Leopard Seals.

Something about them just drew you in, especially the one you've been trying to track since you've seen it's scarred side as you boated through the icy terrain. You wondered if it was okay?

As you traveled by boat over the icy water you noticed a bigger boat throwing out nets, trying to catch something. When you got closer you saw what they were trying to catch was that same scarred seal you were searching for. The people on the boat holding up their nets and harpoons told you what you didn't want to know and you quickly put your small motor to work as you sped towards them.

Their nets just barely caught the thrashing seal when you came speeding up with your sharp modified ice pick and sliced through the net, setting him free.

You cheered a moment as you watched him swim off before a harpoon barely missed you and hit your boat's engine. Looking up you watched as the people cussed you out in another language while some of them laughed at your shock.

The boat slowly moved out of sight as you tried to figure out how to get your motor running again, not noticing the large head of a leopard seal peaking around some floating ice.

***This is an introduction into Selkie! LADS lol, hopefully I'll get the motivation to continue my other stories I have yet to finish but yea. Here go***

[thetomorrowshow]

visions, visage, gentle, genteel ch. 3

esh au :)

cw: hospitals, prescription opioids

~

When Scott wakes up, Jimmy is not there.

That's a problem.

Joel is there, which is somehow even worse than Jimmy not being there.

Scott blinks at him for a moment, then lays his head back down and groans.

"Wow, see if I ever hang out with you in the hospital again," Joel grumbles. "Who is it who's sat with you twice now? That's right, me."

Scott sighs. "I want my boyfriend," he mutters, staring down at the hospital bed sheets. His arm hurts. It's wrapped up in bandages, useless at his side, and it hurts.

He's probably on some sort of pain drug, isn't he?

Joel sighs, and there's something tense in it that Scott doesn't have the mental capability to parse right now.

"Right. Well, the good news is your cats are all right."

That's nice.

Right, their house was destroyed.

Their house was destroyed. Who would destroy their house? What was the point? 

His and Jimmy's clothes were there. Jimmy's nice sweatshirt that smelled like him. The one that Scott would wear sometimes when he rolled out of bed in the morning, not wanting to part from his boyfriend but resolved to make breakfast for him.

And all their other stuff, but right now it's the clothes that grasp Scott's attention and he wants to cry.

"Hey—uh, it's okay," Joel says hurriedly, scooching his chair closer and awkwardly patting Scott's knee after hovering over his injured arm. "Jimmy's safe, he's okay. He just can't be here right now. Do you want to call him?"

Why can’t Jimmy be here? Scott really wants him here, wants to hold his hand and kiss his lips and feel better.

But that's right, Scott recalls, Jimmy can’t be in hospitals. "He has trauma," he informs Joel.

Joel bursts out laughing. "We've all got trauma."

Scott doesn't know how to respond to that, so he just kind of stares at Joel until the man continues speaking.

Joel sobers quickly. "Right. Er, do you know what you said to the EMTs?"

Scott doesn't remember saying anything. He shakes his head.

Joel sighs again. "Well, remember all that stuff that we did to make sure the public believed that Solidarity was dead?"

Scott nods. He remembers that, it was a whole thing.

"Right. And we don't blame you, but apparently you said some stuff that . . . made everyone think that Solidarity's still alive."

Oh.

Oh no.

Scott sniffles, thinking of exactly what that means—no Jimmy cheering him on in public, no Jimmy going out at all, no picking him up from work no dates no big wedding—

"Okay, you're crying again. Hey, hey, it's okay. It was an accident; we all know you didn’t mean to."

It's still his fault. Now he's going to have to have press conferences about it, and pretend to hate Jimmy, and he doesn’t want that.

Some rational part of him realizes that he's definitely being overemotional about this. Normally, he would buck up grimly and do what has to be done. Normally, he would never cry in front of Joel.

"It's the drugs," he croaks, trying to explain why he's having such a strong outward reaction. "Sorry."

"Don’t apologize," Joel says quietly. "You're going through a lot right now."

"It's my fault," Scott says mournfully, wiping at his nose with the arm that isn't injured. "I said something, I—"

"It's okay," Joel tells him, still awkwardly patting his knee. "You were going into shock, apparently. It's fine."

It's not fine, but Scott can't figure out what to say about it, so he just cries a little bit.

He sits there and sniffles until the doctor comes in, when he wipes his eyes and does his best to appear like the strong hero Major.

-

Joel and Lizzie, unlike any of the other heroes, still actively live in their house in the hero district. Most everyone else has it set up as their office, so to speak—Scott uses his as storage and a place to hold official meetings. He knows that Gem uses hers for meetings with her weird alliance.

But Lizzie and Joel together are recognizable, more so than many of the other heroes out of costume, and therefore rarely get the opportunity to spend time together in public unmasked. According to Joel, it's just easier to have one identity in public, and that identity includes where they live.

Scott does miss living in the hero neighborhood. It had been nice to have all of his neighbors understand his secrecy and his work without having to hide anything except for his face.

And now, as Joel pulls into his garage, Scott wonders if maybe they all oughtn't have moved after all.

Had that woman attacked his house while in the hero neighborhood, there would have been plenty of people to help him keep Jimmy secret. There would have been funds and materials set aside to get his house fixed immediately. There would have been heroes at his side to help take down the woman before Scott even realized she was there.

It had seemed like a safety concern when they moved out one by one. Every villain in the city had their address and could track them down simply by putting a few words into a search bar. Of course it made sense to move, adopt a more secret location.

But there had been no one nearby to help fight the mystery woman. There had been too much confusion, too much distress. And she had dared to attack in the first place, knowing that there wouldn't be other heroes around.

Why is it that every option has pros and cons? Why can't there be a perfect solution?

Perhaps more importantly, how did she find him?

Joel opens the passenger side door for him, which is entirely unnecessary because it was his left arm that got shot and the door is on his right side, but Scott lets it happen, too tired to argue in any way.

And Jimmy still isn't there.

He's at work, because apparently Scott had slept through the night at the hospital. Lizzie's also out, patrolling as the Ocean Queen. And Joel needs to leave to patrol soon, which means Scott will be alone.

Not alone, exactly, because as Joel shows him to the guest room, Elle weaves past his legs and Norman hops up on the bed.

That warms his heart a little. He'd been worried about the cats, and it's good to actually see them safe rather than having to just believe Joel’s word.

"Just call me or Lizzie if you need anything," Joel says, and then he leaves.

Scott, instead of sleeping and then taking more of the heavy-duty painkillers he was prescribed, flops onto the guest bed and pulls up five different news stations on his phone.

Aeor had always preached against checking the news right after a fight. No need to go mad trying to figure out everything he did wrong, overanalyzing himself for hours.

But sometimes, such as after fights where one wakes up in the hospital with only blurry memories of what occurred, the news is a necessary tool.

All five of them have him on the front page.

Three of them have helicopter footage of his anonymous house, and Scott's never been so glad that he signed on the lease with a pseudonym.

All of them have blurry photos of Jimmy (blurry enough that they can’t reliably determine many features, thankfully) standing over Scott, hair and clothes whipped around as if by some awful winds that Scott can vaguely recall happening.

And Jimmy isn't wearing a mask in those blurry photos.

They all additionally have a photo of Jimmy leaning over Scott, wearing a mask but clearly the same person.

That's not good at all. That's far worse than Joel led Scott to believe.

And Scott can't do anything about it.

Is Solidarity Still Alive? What the Government Isn’t Telling You, one of the articles reads. Scott closes it immediately, his stomach turning.

He just wants to cry, and curl up in a little ball, and pretend like the world doesn't exist.

He's ruined everything. He got Jimmy found out, and lost their house, and got hurt so now Joel has to take care of him while Jimmy tries to keep working even though he's one of the most wanted people in the city right now.

Why did this all have to happen?

Why is it so hard to handle?

Maybe it's the drugs talking, but Scott does the thing that had once been instinctual in times of distress.

He calls Shelby.

Shelby picks up on the second ring, answering with a quick, "Major, how are you doing?"

Scott blinks. Right. He's not Scott right now, he can't be Scott. He left his Scott phone at the now-destroyed house, and Shelby doesn't know that he's Scott and Major, and—

"Hi, Shubble," Scott says in his very best Major impression. "Um, I was just calling about—"

"Solidarity?" Shelby guesses. Scott nods, then remembers that she can't see him, and mutters an answer in the affirmative.

"There's nothing I can do," Shelby says shortly. "I've been trying all night to keep those pictures out of the news, and it's just making the tabloids suspicious. I mean, at your house, Major? What was Solidarity even doing there after you gave up conservatorship?"

Scott doesn't answer that. He hadn't thought it would ever become relevant to the mayor that he and the man once known as the supervillain Solidarity had become romantically involved.

Shelby sighs, long and distorted by the phone.

"So, how are you doing? How quickly do you think you can get out there?"

Scott looks down at himself, at his t-shirt that had taken a painful ten minutes to put on over his injured arm, at the sling holding said arm to his chest.

"Um, I got shot in the arm," he says, rather stupidly. "The, uh, the Mad King said that I went into shock, so they had to keep me overnight."

"Right, but how long?"

Scott's too emotionally exhausted for this.

"I don't know?" he says, voice wavering dangerously. "Call me later and we'll see, okay?"

"Right," Shelby says after a moment. "Sorry. I'm very stressed right now. Take some time to recover. Goodbye, Major."

Then she hangs up.

Scott stares at his feet for a long time before he sets down his phone.

He just wanted to talk to a friend. A friend who had more than once pulled him out of several depressive episodes, who always knew the right thing to say.

Scott has never felt so alone in his life.

And yes, he's being overdramatic about that, because he's felt alone for most of his life so there's no way this is the worst it's ever been.

It still really, really hurts though.

-

The first time Scott gets to see Jimmy again is the day after his first day in Joel and Lizzie's house.

Jimmy comes in through the basement, because for some inexplicable reason Joel has secret tunnels under his house. He comes in through the basement, and when Scott, sulking on the couch, turns to see him, his breath is stolen from his chest.

That's the man he's going to marry someday. From his scuffed brown work boots to his messy golden hair, that's the most perfect man in the world.

Jimmy shoots him a tired smile, and Scott rolls off the couch to meet him in a hug. It jostles his arm painfully, but Scott really doesn't care. He just wants Jimmy. He just wants to squeeze his arms around him until Jimmy laughs breathlessly and kisses him on the cheek, but with only one functional arm it's proving to be a little difficult.

Jimmy's hugging him back just as tightly, anyways.

"I missed you," Jimmy whispers in his ear.

Scott just clutches him tighter.

"Geez, get a room," Joel calls from the kitchen. "It's been, like, two days. Wait until he’s sound of mind, at least."

Jimmy pulls back, much to Scott's dismay. "Is he not sound of mind?" he asks, sounding a bit worried, but a little more put-out.

"Your man is still on percocet for the next two days," Joel informs him. "That's what he gets for being shot."

"I'm sound of mind," Scott argues, pulling a bit at Jimmy's shirt to get him closer again. "I missed you."

Jimmy, thankfully, does not detach himself. "It's okay. Joel grabbed your meds from the house, have you been taking them?"

Scott nods. "Yours?"

"Yep." Jimmy gently leads Scott back to the couch and sits down with him. "Look, babe, I love you, but I need to go change. Is that okay?"

It's really not okay, but Scott reluctantly releases Jimmy and watches him head off down the hall, already pulling off his shirt.

Once Jimmy's gone, Scott can't help but feel a bit cold. His arm aches—currently free from the sling so he can stretch it a bit, but not from the bandages. He's got another appointment to check on it in a couple of days, and if all looks good, he's set to start on physical therapy. He's hoping to get permission from the doctor to fight crime while it heals if he takes it easy. Then he could get back out there without causing any more worry to the people.

And, as if his mind is being read (always a possibility with Joel in the room), his phone starts buzzing with an incoming call.

It's the mayor.

Scott sets his jaw, then answers the phone.

"Major, how are we looking?"

"I have a check-up on the 22nd," Scott reports. "Then physical therapy."

"Any idea when you'll be back?"

"No. Um, maybe . . . maybe I can see if, at the appointment, they'll let me start while doing the physical therapy? Um, or—"

"He's on pain drugs," Joel says loudly, suddenly right behind Scott.

"Is that the Mad King?" Shelby asks, tinny and distant in Scott's ear. Scott, meanwhile, tries to regulate the adrenaline now shooting through his system (and causing his arm to throb) from Joel just appearing behind him.

"Go on, put her on speakerphone," Joel says, and before Scott can respond, the phone is yanked out of his hands and set down on the coffee table.

"Hi, Shubble," says Joel, leaning close to the phone. "Major's a little bit loopy right now, he's on percocet for the next couple of days. Anything I can do?"

"Sorry, why are you here?" Shelby asks after a moment.

"Somebody's gotta take care of Major."

"I'm not a child," Scott puts in, a little petulantly.

"What's going on?" Jimmy asks, wandering into the room, toweling off his face, now wearing sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

"Major, how many people are there with you?"

"He won't be back in the fight for a while," Joel says before Scott can even open his mouth. "What can we do instead?"

Shelby sighs. "Right. Well, it isn't looking good," she says. "Things aren't blowing over the way we hoped they would. The media legitimately thinks that Solidarity killed you, and they're publishing all those old stories about how the Canary was most likely Solidarity."

Jimmy blanches, freezing where he stands.

"Didn’t you say I'm alive?" Scott asks, bewildered. Why on earth would everyone think he's dead?

"I released the standard!" insists Shelby. "It's not enough this time. Apparently, despite there being several eyewitnesses, nobody remembers the villain you were fighting."

"It was a woman," Jimmy jumps in, stepping close to the phone. "A woman with blond hair, and really cool goggles? Also a gun."

Silence. A long, long silence during which Joel, for some reason, glares at Jimmy.

"Major," Shelby says eventually, "please tell me that you don't have Solidarity in your house right now."

Ah.

"Well," Scott says thoughtfully, "it isn't my house."

"Major."

"Hi, Mayor Shubble," Jimmy says sheepishly. "How are things going?"

Shelby sighs again. She does that a lot, Scott notices.

"This may as well happen," Scott thinks he hears her mutter, before she clicks her tongue and launches into a spiel.

"Okay, so Major isn't going to be ready to return to the scene for a while, but we can still do some damage control. Solidarity, if you publicly appear—we can make up some story about you working undercover for the government for the past couple of years—and we can rewrite their version from you attacking him to you defending him."

Scott starts to speak up, explain that Jimmy doesn't ever want to fight again, but Jimmy speaks first, leaning closer to the phone.

"If you think it'll help, I can do that," he says resolutely. "Just get those pictures with my face out of the news."

"They can't tell it's you, really," Joel says. "It's pretty blurry."

"I don't want my face attached to any of this," Jimmy states. "I don't care how blurry it is."

"Done," Shelby says, before Scott can make any of his protests known. "Press conference with Solidarity, tomorrow. They already know that you're the Canary, too, so I think we'd better admit that right off the bat. Do you have a number I can call you at?"

"Just Major's phone is fine, or the King's," Jimmy says. "I don't have an anonymous number."

"I'll call you in a couple of hours with your script. Thank you."

Click.

Silence.

Scott barely even got to say anything, even though it was his phone call.

And Jimmy. . . .

"Now why," Joel asks slowly, "on this great blummin' earth, would you do that?"

Jimmy shrugs, tossing the towel onto his shoulder. "I just . . . don't you ever get tired of hiding?"

Scott shakes his head.

"I love hiding," Joel admits.

Jimmy rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I'm just . . . for a long time, I was a really visible person. It was impossible for me to hide. I tried and I tried, right, but it never worked out. Someone always found me."

As if he doesn't notice, Jimmy's fingers fall to the back of his neck, brushing the scar there.

"It's been a great two years," he says, voice shaking just the slightest bit, "but it always felt like borrowed time."

That, somehow, hurts. It feels like giving up, like a walk to death, like an acceptance of a terrible fate.

Jimmy deserves so much better.

He deserves to be happy, and live a normal life, and forget that he ever hurt anyone or anyone ever hurt him. He deserves worlds of safety and comfort.

Scott can take care of this somehow. Can't he? This can’t be the only option. Maybe he can make a public appearance, say something about how it was his bodyguard, not Solidarity. Not Jimmy.

But they already know it was Jimmy, don't they? They already have pictures of his face. They already have witnesses that identified Jimmy as being involved. They basically already have Scott’s own testimony.

Scott wants to talk more about it. He wants to argue his point, and help Jimmy feel safe, and so much more that he can't verbalize.

But Joel returns to the kitchen, and Jimmy wanders off somewhere, and Scott doesn’t follow either of them.

[castkorb]

I had a discussion with a friend on twitter about the fact –and consequences– of Sting killing the previous Sabertooth master, Jienma and possibly more people and I feel like throwing my two cents here and expanding a bit more. Long post ahead ✌🏽

First of all, I want to make clear that my opinion on the Magic Council is that they're soo stupidly incompetent throughout the manga, so much that it shouldn't come to anyone's surprise they did nothing to Sting after killing Jienma, like they had "criminals" doing their job at one point, c'mon.

With that out of the way let's being: I'm aware of what I just said about the council, but taking in the context of where and when it took place I don't think they genuinely could do much lmao.

Firstly, the only time I remember them actually doing their job decently was during Oracion Seis, the times before and after that they were more or less there just to add the comedic bit of "Shit, we destroyed another town and the council's here, let's scram." And like, whatever the fuck they were doing during Tower of Heaven –this itself could be on another analysis post, did they seriously never doubted Siegrain?? did they just buy his lame story of "Oh yeah my twin brother who did a massacre when he was 7 is still out there making a cult or something but I got nothing to do with it don't worry about it, also don't pay attention to that it's not important rn" ???– But that was more the 10 Magic Saints and not the council I guess? but also they're the rulers of the magic council so we're on the same boat. I also just remembered the fact that sometimes they do fake trials to appease the population with no actual punishments being ruled lmao, I swear I was trying to be impartial here but it's getting harder the more stuff I remember.

Anyways, back to the GMG: They were a mess, like literally within the context. The king himself was operating illegally under the radar for 7 years and I can only imagine the Council's reaction to that fact literally moments prior to seven fucking dragons appearing out of nowhere. (The fact that the king and princess were left with just a scolding from Mest by all this was wild, truly up to the medieval(? times FT is set up in, –also keeps proving my opinion right– and raises many fucking questions about what the monarchy in this country is doing????) So, in summary, I don't think they had time to care about Sting killing Jienma. ☠️

But if you want my longer analysis (this is rhetorical I'm doing it anyways.) Consider the history of Sabertooth, whatever methods Jienma (and Minerva) had of moving the guild forwards definitely included doing not so legal stuff swept under the rug, I'm guessing by Minerva or Jienma himself. I'm taking guesses here but it could've been by bribing the Council –given how gullible they are apparently ☠️– or the Council either being intimidated enough by Jienma or because the guild tangled with the legality of the magic world so well they couldn't really do/say much to the guild during those years Jienma was in charge.

That probably helped Sting in this case, we don't know if the Sabertooth members were aware of such methods or if they had a general idea, I could assume Sting only found the full of it when he became master and had full access to the guild's records. But honestly I don't think it's farfetched to think anyone in Saber has killed people under Jienma's command more than once, since Sabertooth was introduced as a direct opposite of what Fairy Tail stands for –value your comrades as family, vow to kill no one– I think it was set to be assumed.

Maybe not ordered in ways such as "Kill this guy." but since the motto of Sabertooth was to be the better than any guild through whatever means necessary, it's not unlikely they were ordered to "dispose" of the competence more than once, as the first scene in which Sting and Rogue are introduced is literally them massacring a Dark Guild and leaving (I'm assuming) only one guy alive.

Another part of the discussion we had was what would Fairy Tail's opinion on the fact that Sting killed the previous master be and honestly? I don't think they gave a fuck.

Throughout the GMG, Sabertooth did many things to the FT members that deserve no mercy and we saw that, how each of them reaped what they sowed. Even Natsu, to no one's surprised railed the Guild's motel just to shit talk and beat the crap out of the master for humiliating Yukino.

But then, (and pardon me if I overindulge here, because this is genuinely my favorite part of the arc) the finals arrive, every single member of Saber is defeated and given retribution and only Sting is left against Fairy Tail.

And he breaks down. All of the years worth of pressure and forcibly internalized overconfidence he had to learn in Sabertooth in order to survive, destroyed in a mere week. How do you take on all that? He was 19 at that time, as self-sufficient he was he was still a kid, a kid in a most definitely not healthy environment to grow up in. –Assuming, since the manga said Sabertooth became a top guild 5 years prior after their most powerful mages joined, meaning he'd have been 14 when he joined Saber– Sting had no way of knowing how to deal with loss of such shape, so he broke down in front of his enemies, and all that pilled-up pressure fell on him.

But of course as I mentioned, Sabertooth is a guild created to parallel everything Fairy Tail stands for, and that wouldn't be the first nor the last time they help someone from outside their guild, including former enemies. I specially adore how it was Erza who consoled him, Natsu was probably the first who realized the members of Sabertooth were molded to stain their hands in the name of the guild because of Jienma, and Erza likely realized too in that moment.

And we all know Sting strives to be like Natsu but I think Erza offering him solace in this moment was core to his growth later on, she was probably the first person other than Rogue and his father who was kind to him, –since he doesn't remember Anna yet– and it was the helping hand he needed to take the first step forwards after losing everything you've ever known.

Sorry I did say I was going to overindulge lol but I love this scene so much. But back to the original question, yes Fairy Tail values their vows passionately and fiercely and yet they also rebel against them a few times, –the recurring theme of young people breaking the outdated norm is also a constant in the manga– so I think, after learning the whole story they sort of decided to forgive and adopt/mentor the members of Sabertooth and mend all the trauma they had to deal with. I love the tiny bits we see of FT members being sort of overprotective towards Saber members, they're cute.

Sooo after all that the conclusion is: yeah, Sting has probably killed people, and Fairy Tail doesn't give a damn about it 👍🏼

(I'm seriously this close to make another long post on Sting's growth in character because he makes me sick I love him so much)

[gilverrwrites]

Free use is so yummy<3 free use + possessiveness is scrumpdillyiscious

Office!au cause I love herrr

But just imagine in the beginning when word is starting to spread around the office.

Kon is able to dodge most of it cause of his charming smile and boyish charm. I mean who could blame or judge him <3 that Kent charisma is working overtime.

Tim is their boss so obviously he's no go. Sure he's more than generous and a delight to work for, but anyone who's been on the receiving end of his withering glare knows how terrifying it is to cross that line.

But you? You're just the newbie, sweet enough sure, but you haven't been here long enough to really earn your spot in the social hierarchy. It's not helping when the gossiping old biddies take note of your ruffled skirts and smudged makeup. Reputations are so easy to gain and so hard to lose </3

When projects and assignments are passed out you can't help but tune in to the murmurs and pointed looks between you and Tim.

"Wonder what they had to do to earn that contract?"

"If my old knees weren't so bad maybe I'd get to use the company car too"

"Makes sense they'd get to lead that meeting we all know how good they are at /oral/ presentations👀"

The crazy part is they should know better than to assume Tim would risk his professional life for a lay. Especially since he's screwing Kon and the most he's assigned to do is "go grab some dry erase markers from staples.... Kon those are permanent".

No. the reason you were given these high level difficult contracts is you're damn good at what you do. If you weren't wickedly intelligent Tim and Kon never would have paid you any attention in the first place, it's just a bonus that you're super hot :(.

You try to handle it on your own, cause as long as it doesn't affect your work then it doesn't matter. You don't need to make friends here. No, what you're focused on is making sure Kon and ESPECIALLY Tim doesn't notice. Them coming in to help you like Captain Save-a-hoe would only make it worse :(

But as most things do, the situation starts to snowball. Whispers about you, become hushed talking while you're in earshot, becomes slide remarks straight to your face, becomes your number being written in bar bathrooms around the city. You'd think these grown women would've moved past their teenage mean girl phase but no </3

Still you keep your head up and your business to yourself, you can handle this. Until it goes too far and you're getting cornered in the printing room by a handsy coworker "C'mon I know you let half of Gotham hit. What's one more?"

Before you see it happen you hear it. The quick crack of a wrist being grabbed much too roughly. Frigid blue eyes staring hard at you, looking for anything out of place. And a chilling voice, whispering "you should leave" with 0 inflection. Even though none of this cold fury was directed at you, it still made your heart drop down to the pit of your stomach.

You were honestly quite fortunate that Tim got in there first. If he hadn't beat Kon to it, there's no telling what he'd do.

They'd treat you so sweetly after, giving you a vacation on their (Tim's) dime. Part of you was worried about this making gossip worse at the office, but it's hard to voice your concerns when Kon's head is glued in between your legs on the softest bed you've ever been in.

Alternating between sucking on your swollen, throbbing clit and sucking more dark marks into your thighs. Faintly you think there's no way a human tongue can reach that deep, but one stroke has you canting your hips against his face. You just turn your sweet little brain off and let them pamper you alright?

Tim's no better, holding you close to his chest as he gropes all over you. Quick nips along your shoulders and neck, each punctuated by a tug to your achey nipples. He hasn't removed his hands from your chest since you began, licking and pulling at them. He's so unbearable! Especially when he's whispering in that smooth, gentle tenor of his.

"Maybe rubies, right here on your neck. All pretty in red for me, that way they know who your pretty pussy belongs to." A muffled grunt of protest rises from your core that makes you gasp when you feel teeth graze your nub. "And sapphires Kon, of course." His voice is surprisingly fond for someone gripping Kon's hair so tightly against your core. Kon needs no encouragement as he laps eagerly inside of your weeping sex.

"No that's too subtle, how about something more permanent. He whispers, dragging one of his hands down your body to rest right above your cunt. His fingers trace over your womb.

"How about you get our names, right here" he drums along the soft skin, making you lightheaded as he drips his fingers down to your neglected clit. His touch ghosting over it, as Kon slows down his lapping to hear your reply.

"We're waiting Princess❤️🩵"

I personally have a strict "no tattoos of other people's name/No matching Tattoos" policy

But I fear this would work on me 😞 also this moved so far from Free use lmao

- 👑

Yeah, the curse goes that once you've gotten a tattoo dedicated to someone the relationship is doomed, but I think i'd risk it for TimKon ❤️🩵

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

Some mild existential dread in the house today

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

imo everyone on earth should be talking about Him (don't want this showing up in the tag even though it's not a diss) but everytime i go to the tag and there's only like 3 new posts i'm like. oh yeah almost no one cares except me and like 5 other ppl on here

i ran out of tags KFHSJENNXN i don't think that's literally ever happened to me before anyways don't read them because it's just me being insane as per usual

[lokissweater]

miss pretty

{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}

summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.

warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.

word count: 11.4k

authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333

katsuki bakugo hated messes.

“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”

“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.

“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”

“mhm!” he chirped.

“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”

“yup yup!”

and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.

that was of course, until he met you.

katsuki shoved through the other parents in line as he went up to the front desk in the main office with a grip on his sons little hand, not giving a damn about the glares and huffs of bewilderment he got as there was no way in hell he was gonna wait like an idiot with the rest of them.

the lady at the front desk raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“can i help—”

“where the fuck is room twenty four.”

her eyes bulged open as the rest of the parents in line softly gasped and murmured.

“e—excuse me?—”

he rolled his eyes.

“room twenty four.” he pushed. “where is it?”

“sir— if you need me to help you i’d like you to wait in line until—”

“hah?! absolutely not.” he spat. “if i wait in that fucking line my son’s gonna be late why can’t you just tell me—”

“uh sir if you could—”

katsuki’s son giggled as he continued to spout profanities at the poor front desk lady.

“—sir please no foul language there are children around—”

“i don’t give a shit! just tell me where room twenty four is what the hell is so hard about that?!—”

“oh! that’s my class!”

katsuki snapped his head over, fiery red eyes shooting towards the voice until they landed on yours.

“is he one of my kids?” you smiled sweetly, eyes coming down to look at his son.

“oh—” he let his shoulders relax just a tad as he watched you fix the strap of his sons backpack on his shoulder. “i mean— if your class is twenty four—“

“it is!” you beamed, nudging your head. “i’ll show you where!”

“hiii miiiissss!” his son greeted, happy and silly as he followed you down the hall.

“hi honey!” you gushed, just as excited as he was as you patted over his blonde scruffy hair. “what’s your name?”

“milo!”

“nice to meet you milo! are you excited for your first day?”

“yeaaahh!” he cheered, smile bright as he grabbed your hand.

katsuki’s eyes widened.

“milo!” he snapped lowly. “what’d i tell ya? you can’t grab her hand like that you have to ask—”

“oh it’s alright!” you dismissed, smiling. “i don’t mind it at all! the other kids do it too.”

milo snickered and stuck his little tongue out at his dad, and katsuki rolled his eyes.

“is he yours?” you asked kindly, tilting your head.

“who else would he be…” he grumbled.

“i guess you’re right!” you giggled. “he looks just like you.”

katsuki’s eyes flickered to yours before dropping back down, a permanent furrow in his brows as you all rounded the corner.

“here we are—”

“ooo! ooo!” milo hopped up and down. “miss you have race cars?! dad can i please go?!”

he looked over, a mountain of toys scattered about in the classrooms play area, little kids already making a damn mess and the school day hadn’t even officially started yet.

“the hell you asking me for? ask your tea—”

“miss miss can i please go play with the race cars?!—”

“of course my love! go! go have fun.” you smiled, gently ushering him on before milo zoomed over to the play area and crouched down with the rest of the kids.

“oi!” katsuki barked. “put them away when you’re done!”

he huffed under his breath as he watched his son give him a thumbs up and fucking dump the entire bucket of race cars down on the ‘abc’ play rug, taking one in each hand and dragging them across floor.

“he’s so cuteee.” you grinned. “i’m glad he’s not afraid being it’s his first day.”

“oh fuck no.” he mumbled. “milo doesn’t care. the little runt doesn’t have a filter and does whatever the hell he wants without askin’ sometimes.”

he leaned against the doorsill as he watched milo converse with another kid and share a car, satisfaction in his chest that his son was sharing and being nice.

“but i guess he gets that from me.” he finished off.

you nodded. “but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

he pursed his lips.

“in my experience, not really.”

you hummed.

“i think it’s definitely a good thing… i’d rather be assertive of things and not be afraid of what the consequences will be.”

katsuki looked at you, properly this time.

“what’s a kindergarten teacher afraid of?”

you shrugged, a slow playful grin spreading across your face.

“parents.”

he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and you quickly had to look away, a pink buzz to your cheeks at the way his big built arms flexed.

inappropriate inappropriate inappropriate—

“i don’t know how you do it..” he spoke lowly.

“do what?”

“take care of little shits all day.”

you laughed loudly, reeling over a bit as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“i don’t take care of them! i teach them.” you quipped cutely. “they’re small, but this is when their brains drink up the most knowledge… and i love to see the progress from the beginning of the year compared to the end! i love it all really.”

pure.

katsuki curtly nodded, your sweet positive ambiance throwing him completely off, as he doesn’t think he’s ever met or surrounded himself around someone who’s directly emmitted the feeling of sunshine and rainbows and candy as much as you did.

and his cheeks flared up for some reason.

“oh!” you looked to the time on your little wrist watch and walked inside your classroom. “it’s almost time to start! i have to wrangle them all in their seats heh!”

katsuki swallowed and nodded.

“milo!”

he turned and upon seeing his dad wave him over, milo dropped his toys and bounded to him.

“don’t give her a hard time alright?” he spoke sternly, nudging his head over at you for emphasis. “listen. listen and learn and be the best one in there.”

“kaaayyy!”

“and you let me know if any of the other kids mess with you or you deal with it yourself. you already know how—”

“beat the crap out of them!” he cheered loudly and katsuki’s hand flew to clasp over his sons mouth before his frantic eyes looked at you.

the last thing he needed was someone to call up fucking child protective services on him.

“he’s joking! he’s joking… fuck.”

you giggled hard and clutched your stomach, your pretty smile sending katsuki for a loop.

“no you’re absolutely right!” you waved your hands in front of your face, reassuring. “treat others the way you want to be treated, so if someone’s being mean to you, bite back milo, okay? and also let me know first though!”

katsuki gave you a wobbly tiny smile amidst his branded serious face, looking at his son then and ruffling up his hair.

“okay, go.” milo ran off. “and don’t let me pick you up with dirt all over your clothes ya hear me?!”

“byeee daaaddd!”

you could tell that behind his harsh exterior— the slight purse of his lips, stiff frame and bouncing leg gave away that he was only worried about his kid and his first day of school, a sight you’ve seen time and time again since you started working as a kindergarten teacher, and one that never failed to warm your heart.

“don’t worry!” you sweetly smiled, and katsuki switched his gaze over to yours. “i’ll watch him especially… okay? to ease the nerves.”

he softly snorted, attempting to play it off but internally relieved as he pushed himself off the doorsill and nodded, thankful that the teacher milo got was as kind as you.

“um…” he mumbled. “katsuki.”

you tilted your head. “katsuki?”

“it’s my name idiot.”

“oh!” you giggled, a blush rising in your cheeks again as you tried to simmer it down. “nice to meet you katsuki! i’ll see you after school then with milo?”

he stiffly nodded, the way his name sounded so sugary off your tongue something he’d never heard before in his life or was used to at all.

“…ya gonna tell me yours or what?”

“sorry!” you sputtered, laughing nervously. “sorry it just— flew! you know—”

you stuck your hand out and offered it to him.

“y/n!”

katsuki untangled his arms and firmly shook it, grip strong and one that nearly made you stumble forward as you caught yourself and smiled.

“i’ll see you katsuki!”

out of all of the kids you’ve taught, milo was by far the cutest one.

the little man was like your personal assistant— a little bee buzzing around as he followed you everywhere in the classroom and helped you clean up after the rest of the kids that didn’t, ‘yelling’ at some of them to and cutely scolding them whenever he’d catch them leave some things behind, and was always on watch for you like a security guard with his little balled up fists on his hips, surveilling the classroom for any misbehaving kids or messes that you’d missed throughout the day.

all traits you no doubt knew he got from katsuki, even if you had just met him. it was pleasantly obvious.

“thanks for helping me out today, milo!” you gushed, pushing another students chair in as they all sat down and chattered for lunch. “you made my job a lot easier!”

“really?!” he squealed, big glimmering eyes beaming up at you before he happily chowed down on some apple slices.

and you noticed then milo’s lunch was insane, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut up and molded neatly into the shape of panda bears, his watermelon and apple slices shaped like stars with carrots and celery lined up with a little wedge of lemon if he wished, tiny rice balls on the side for a little snack you figured in case what he had didn’t fill him up— all so considerate and careful…

“wow!” you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. “your lunch looks so yummy my love! did your mommy make this?”

“nuh uh!” he shook his head, cheeks filled with watermelon. “my dad did!”

you faltered.

“katsuki made this?”

“who’s katsuki miss?” he asked curiously, sipping on his little juice box after swallowing the fruit in his mouth.

you giggled. “nothing! nothing. enjoy your lunch okay?”

you went to stand, but milo’s hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“can you— can you eat lunch with me?” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with some carrot pieces in his hands. “please.. i always eat with my dad but he’s not here…”

your eyes softened and you quickly nodded.

“of course! let me just go grab my lunch and ill bring it over! sounds good?”

“yaaaayyyy!” he cheered happily, arms up as you scooched a tiny chair over from a nearby table and sat with him, laughing at his cute expression.

you knew you shouldn’t use a little kid to pry… but you were guiltily curious as to know if katsuki was married or not for reasons that made you ridiculously flustered and red in the face over.

and you wanted to be respectful in case he was… since the ogling you did at his muscles this morning through his black ribbed tank was the most embarrassing moment of your career and one you hadn’t seen coming at all, it catching you off guard and feeling horrible if katsuki indeed had a wife.

but he didn’t have a ring on his finger…

“milo?” you spoke up softly.

he smiled big. “yes miss!”

“does your mommy make you lunch as well or just your dad?”

he shook his head. “just my dad! i don’t have a mom.”

your shoulders deflated.

he didn’t have a mom… at all?

you slowly reached over then and patted his blonde hair, smiling warmly as his cheeks went pink. “that’s alright! i’m sure your dad makes you lunches like this every time huh?”

“yeah!” he gasped excitedly. “yesterday he made pizzas and cut them into dinosaurs! it was so cool! and then!— and then this morning for breakfast i had waffles that looked like dynamite blasts!”

“oh my goodness!” you giggled, your heart absolutely thumping over the fact that katsuki was so dedicated to his son like that. “man, i wish my lunches were as cute as yours!”

his little eyes snapped to yours.

“i’ll tell him!”

your brows furrowed confusedly. “wha—”

“to make you lunch! i’ll tell my dad to make you lunch!”

your eyes widened and you frantically shook your head, cheeks blazing as you laughed. “oh no my love! that’s totally okay don’t worry about me silly—”

“i’ll tell him i’ll tell him i’ll tell him!—”

“milo it’s okay! i’m a big girl.” you grinned. “i’m supposed to make my own lunches.”

milo grumbled and plopped a carrot in his mouth, begrudgingly chewing as he sat there in thought.

“…will you at least let me share some of mine?”

you pouted at his generosity, wondering how a kid could be so sweet as you nodded and held your hand up.

“of course sweetie! whatever you wa—”

milo plopped all of his peanut butter sandwiches in your palm and grinned, earning a gasp from you.

“milo this is too much i can’t—”

“eat it! eat it! eait it!—”

by the end of the day, you managed to get milo to take back his sandwiches in exchange for one singular watermelon star piece, him still doing his regular duties of being your little assistant and helping you clean up after everyone before the final bell rang signaling the end of class, you carefully making sure each kiddo got their designated backpack (as there was often a mix up) and art pieces they made for their parents to take home— a permission slip for the end of the year field trip tucked away inside their bags.

and the minute you stepped outside with the rest of the kids, you were surprised to see that katsuki was one of the first parents there as he stood directly across from your classroom with crossed arms, an angry usual scowl on his face that made you laugh to yourself as you led your kids to sit down on a bench in a single file line until their parents physically came to get them or their vehicles pulled up.

“milo!” you tapped his shoulder gently. “your daddy’s over there!”

“DAAADDD!!”

milo jumped up and ran across the grass, his tiny arms out as katsuki smiled softly and crouched down to pick his son up and settle him on his lower abdomen, you wringing your fingers behind your back and walking up to them.

“were you a brat?” he grunted.

“nope!”

“did any kids mess with you?”

“nope!”

“did you leave a mess?”

“nope!”

you giggled, and katsuki’s eyes snapped in your direction.

“how was he?”

“he did so good!” you gushed, patting milo’s back as he grinned. “was my little helper and everything! didn’t leave a single mess behind and helped me clean up after everyone else… he even made sure everyone was paying attention and not misbehaving.”

“yeah! yeah! see dad?” milo poked his dads cheek. “i didn’t lie!”

“never said you lied you little runt.” he scowled. “…but good job.”

“thanks!”

katsuki set him down after milo started kicking his legs and saying something about the swings, him instantly running towards the playground and to the slide.

“did he actually do all of that?” he spoke up.

“oh yes!” you quickly nodded. “i’ve never had a kid do that before so it was really nice of him to!”

you detached your fingers from around your back and fiddled with them.

“you teach him well katsuki.”

he scoffed and turned his head, cheeks pink as he tried to regain his composure.

“damn right i do.”

you giggled then, the memory of milo telling you he didn’t have a mother suddenly popping into your mind as you watched him happily slide down the blue slide head first.

“hey i don’t mean to um..” you timidly began. “i don’t mean to pry but—”

katsuki raised a brow at you and you snapped your mouth shut.

“nothing! nothing nevermind—”

“spit it out.”

“no it’s alright! sorry i—”

he glared and you cowered, smiling bashfully as you bit your bottom lip.

“milo… milo mentioned that he didn’t have a mommy? i was just— wondering if that was true…”

“tch—” he shook his head. “that’s what you were afraid of askin’ me?”

“i told you i’m scared of parents…” you slumped cutely, and he chuckled.

“it’s just me and him.” he answered. “his mom’s never been a part of our lives.”

your heart sunk a little, eyes sad as your gaze shifted to milo playing and racing around with another kid.

“don’t do that.”

you jumped and looked at katsuki.

“do— do what—”

“look all sad and shit.”

he hesitantly reached over and planted an index finger to the crease between your brows, the feeling rough as he tried to gently drag it down and smooth over the lines.

“it’s fine.” he grumbled, letting his arm fall to his side. “it doesn’t bother him. at least i don’t think it does.”

“no!” you spoke quickly, a crazed blush on your cheeks. “it doesn’t! and milo speaks so highly of you… especially the lunches you make him.”

his brows furrowed. “his lunch?”

“yeah!” you nodded excitedly. “you prepare it so so well! how do you get his sandwiches to look like little bears? and his fruit?! every time i try to cut mine into stars they always break in half…”

he huffed out a laugh, finding your little whine funny as he reached over and ruffled up your hair, you smiling cheekily in response.

“do you use molds?” you asked politely. “to shape out the bear?”

“fuck no.” he scoffed. “i do it myself.”

your eyes flew open.

“what?! so that’s really just you? and the dinosaurs too? the pizza dinosaurs? and the waffles? the ones that looked like dynamite blasts—”

“jesus christ how much did that kid tell you?”

your face grew hot as you smacked a hand over your mouth.

“sorry!” you giggled. “i just was thinking— that his lunch was really cute and thoughtful…” you took your hand away from your face. “i’m really glad that you do little things like that for milo to make him happy.”

katsuki stared at you, your swarm of compliments and sweetness and sunshine and butterflies almost suffocating as you looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, his throat oddly closing up the longer he stared right back and allowed you to pull him into your world of wonder and abc blocks and puzzles.

but it wasn’t suffocating in a bad way, not at all.

and… maybe he did want you to pull him in.

“dad dad dad!”

milo ran over, sweaty and red faced as he reached the two of you.

“there’s a dead lizard in the slide!”

“a dead lizard?” you laughed, surprised as you reached for his little water bottle from his backpack on the ground and uncapped the lid, handing it over and ushering him to drink.

katsuki didn’t know why the domestic sight of you doing that made him melt a bit.

a bit.

“yeah miss! it was big and gross.” he breathed out after gulping some of his icy cold water. “but i buried him!”

his dads red eyes snapped down to his and narrowed.

“don’t tell me you touched that thing milo.”

“i did!” he giggled.

“oh my fucking god—” katsuki snatched his hand and started pulling him to the car as milo giggled and stuck his tongue out.

“it’s a prank! some other girl in my class did… but i helped with the dirt!”

you chuckled softly as you watched katsuki stop and roll his eyes, coming back over to you with a hyper milo.

“say bye to your teacher ya little runt. and you’re still taking a shower when you get home!”

“but i don’t wanna take a showeerrr!” milo whined, letting go of his dads hand and running to you, you crouching and extending your arms big with a pretty smile.

“bye my love!” you hugged him tight as he giggled. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? and give your daddy a break. no more digging up dirt and playing with dead lizards.”

“kaayyyy!”

you both let go and he stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before bouncing back to his dad.

katsuki choked on his spit.

“oi!” he barked. “you can’t just kiss her cheek milo the hell is going on with you?!—”

“it’s okay don’t worry!” you smiled kindly. “he’s just being sweet is all! i don’t mind.”

“you sure?” he pushed, milo snickering. “i—”

you waved him off and wrung your fingers behind your back, leaning forward.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning kats!”

and he froze, nodding hard as he quickly took milo’s hand and backpack before walking to the car, his heart completely aflame in his chest and cheeks red as he led his babbling son further into the parking lot and inside the car, buckling him up in his car seat before hopping in himself and starting the engine, unbelieving that he had barely just met you and he was already thinking and acting like a fucking dumbass.

“and then we learned the days of the week! oh!— and we learned numbers! i can count to fifteen dad!”

“that’s good milo.” he responded, pulling out of the schools parking lot and craning his neck to see if he could catch a final glimpse of you and settling once he did, you so pretty and conversing so nicely with another kid until he was out of the lot.

“did you eat all of your lunch? y/n tells me ya shared with her.”

“i did! i did share with her.” he grinned. “she liked my lunch!”

“good.” katsuki gave him a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. “that’s good that you always share. especially with her.”

“yup yup! she’s preeettyyy.”

he rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew at the corner of his lips as he nodded curtly.

“that she is.”

katsuki continued to drop off his son personally at your classroom every morning before school.

even when it had been a couple of months into the year, at this point many students already used to their route to and out of class and their parents just dropping them off and leaving— them not even allowed on campus as security rounded every corner and told any parents who wished to go in that they weren’t supposed to, as per policy.

but not katsuki.

katsuki didn’t give a fuck as he stormed through the main office and ignored the calls of the front desk lady, her already used to the rude asshole who came through the building every morning as he strode by and down the hall to class twenty four… wanting to see you— his son’s pretty kindergarten teacher that was sweet and joyful and someone who was everything he wasn’t, his mind curious and filled with your giggles and smiles throughout the time that he’d gotten to know you and chat with you in the mornings and the afternoons, loving the way you were with milo and treated him like he was literally your own— always watching over him and making sure he had had enough to eat and drink and that his hands were washed when he wasn’t around.

and even katsuki himself— you bringing him candy bags from their classroom parties or donuts that were passed to faculty in the mornings and saving yours for him, treats he always took and ate with no questions asked even though he wasn’t a fan of sugary shit and junk food, always making the exception for you.

he had never experienced honest help like that… he’d never experienced someone caring enough about him and his son like the way you did so perfectly every single day…

and katsuki feared that he was a little obsessed.

“oh! miss y/n!”

“yes honey?” you responded kindly, opening a juice pouch for another student and handing it to them carefully during lunch.

milo dug into his lunch pail and pulled out a small container, sticking his hand up and offering it to you.

your brows furrowed, taking it from him.

“what’s this milo?”

“it’s from my dad!”

you stopped, heart dropping to your ass as you recounted his words.

from katsuki?

“your— your dad?”

“mhm!”

you shakily popped the lid of the container open, eyes widening and filling with hearts once you saw a mix of star shaped strawberries and watermelon and papayas, drizzled over with sparkling strings of honey and singular little blueberries scattered about.

“for me?” you asked softly, crouching down next to milo. “my love— are you sure this isn’t for you? i think your dad cut these up for you—”

“nope! for you!” he gave you a big toothy smile before stuffing his mouth with crackers. “he told me not to eat it and to give it to you.”

he swallowed and reached up, you tilting down your head so he could pat it just like you always did for him.

“i hope you like it miss! they look like the ones you told me looked cute!”

“i— i love them milo.. thank you!”

you picked up a papaya piece and ate it, entirely dazed and love struck as your tastebuds savored over the sweet velvety thick honey, literally blinking back tears at how thoughtful and kind katsuki was.

he didn’t have to do this at all… yet he took the time anyways out of his morning to do this for you.

and your heart nearly fucking gave out.

after school once you got your rowdy kids to sit neatly on the bench and wait for their parents, you extended a hand for milo and he hopped off the bench and took it, you both walking up to a waiting katsuki as he stood there with a soft smile on his face.

“hi kats!”

“hey.” he picked his son up and settled him over his abdomen, milo’s arms clinging around his neck and chin propped up on his dads shoulder as he was exhausted from a days worth of playing and learning.

“i wanted to um—” you peered up at him. “i um—”

his brows furrowed, and just as he was about to bark about you stumbling over your words, he stopped.

your bottom lip was trembling.

you hurriedly wiped your eyes.

“i wanted to thank you—” hic! “f—for the star shaped fruit this morning—”

“why are you crying dumbass?” he mumbled, reaching over and wiping some tears with his rough fingers.

“because it was so nice!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking as you let him wipe your cheeks. “and— and you put honey over it too! you didn’t have to do any of that for me!”

“tch—”

he flicked your forehead softly, not enough to hurt you but enough to get you to snap out of your hiccups as you sniffled.

“it’s just fruit y/n—”

“but it’s not.” you wiped your eyes again. “not to me anyways…”

katsuki slowly lowered his arm, gaze tracing over your pretty face and perfect hair and the way you cried over something so stupid, his brain unable to process the fact that an act as simple as cutting fruit up for you could make you this happy, and it made him want to see what you saw for once— how you saw the world for exactly what it was and appreciated it regardless of how big or small things were, not snippy or angry or spiteful over everyone and thinking everything was out to get him and his son.

“crybaby…” he grumbled. “i’m glad you liked it though.”

“i did kats.. a lot. thank you.” you wiped the last of your tears and smiled. “i’m sorry i cried.”

what a pretty sweet girl…

he shook his head and hoisted milo up, him completely knocked out with drool coming out of his mouth as katsuki felt it run down his shoulder, barely even noticing that though as his entire focus was trained purely on you.

was it okay if he… asked you out? would it be weird? would you tell him to fuck off?

katsuki internally rolled his eyes at his stupid fucking high school boy thoughts, though it didn’t alleviate the gnawing feeling that if you did tell him to fuck off… that he’d be angrily mortified at his fail and probably lose the right to talk to you since it’d be too awkward to.

but you were just so fucking sweet. all of the time.

“listen uh—” he cleared his throat, face growing hot. “i was wondering if ya wanted to eat dinner with me… sometime.”

you stared, eyes big and shocked and katsuki took it defensively and entirely the wrong way.

“forget it.” he snapped. “forget it i didn’t say shit—”

“no! no no—” you quickly shook your head. “no it’s okay i would!”

he stopped.

“you would?”

“of course!” you expressed sweetly, cheeks hurting from how big you were smiling as you tried to simmer down your giddy squeals. “i’d love to have dinner with you…”

his tense shoulders slowly relaxed, an eventual small smile growing on his face.

“a—alright uh…” he sighed. “i’d prefer to take ya somewhere nice but i don’t really have anyone to watch milo—”

you shook your head again, brows pinched. “oh no kats— we don’t have to go anywhere at all! we can order something in at your place and eat with milo? or— or my place?”

“my place.” he replied. “and i’ll cook.”

he cooks?!

“okay!” you giggled, your hand reaching up and patting over milo’s sleepy head gently. “sounds good!”

katsuki and you agreed on the details of the date after and bid each other bashful goodbyes, swooning as you watched him walk away into the parking lot with a sleeping milo in his arms and feeling like none of this was fucking real, for you couldn’t believe someone as handsome and cool as katsuki would ever be interested in someone like you.

and funnily enough, he felt the complete opposite, stressed and extra snappy as he cleaned the house from top to bottom (though it barely needed it), unnecessarily fixed the positioning of the furniture and made milo put away his toys, him not even whining or protesting like he usually did solely because the little man knew you were coming— pretty miss y/n with the pretty smile and the nicest lady he had ever met, and one he secretly hoped would be his new mommy every time he saw you and his dad converse before and after school, thinking you would fit the role perfectly.

especially after his dad had given you those fruits as a present!

“milo!” katsuki called. “come ‘ere!”

his son ran into the kitchen, toy race car in hand. “what!”

“be good today, ya hear me?” he pushed, face stern as he flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and sautéed vegetables in his frying pan. “please milo. don’t try to be funny and do somethin’ to scare y/n off.”

milo gave him a look.

“scare miss y/n off? dad you’re gonna scare her off not me!” he giggled. “silly.”

“yeah..” he grunted. “you’re probably right but i’m just sayin’. i’m thinking of the time grandma came over and ya put that fake rat in her purse to try and be funny.”

“ohhh yeeeeah!” he doubled over in little fits of laughter, holding his stomach as he did. “i did do that!”

“see what i mean?” katsuki grumbled, snatching the kitchen towel from his shoulder and throwing it down on the counter top, stepping back to peek in the oven. “you better not do that with y/n please.”

“i won’t!” he grinned. “not when she’s about to be my new mommy!”

katsuki choked as his spit went down the wrong pipe, bending over and coughing uncontrollably in his elbow before spinning around and looking at his son with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“the hell you just say?”

“what!” milo tilted his head. “that y/n is gonna be my new mommy?”

his eyes grew even wider as he dropped the pan he was holding on the stove and leaned back, running his hands over his face.

“oh you little runt please don’t say that in front of her, alright?”

he pouted. “why not?”

“you’ll scare her off! worse than when you put that fake rat in grandmas purse!”

“boooo!” milo stuck his tongue out and crossed his little arms over his chest. “whatever.”

“oi!”

“what!”

katsuki’s doorbell chimed and milo booked it to the front door.

“missss preettyyyy!!—”

“milo get your ass back here!—”

katsuki swung the door open and swooped his son in his arms just as he was about to pounce on you in midair, you giggling and covering your mouth as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“i’m sorry—”

“hiii misss y/nnn!” milo greeted happily, dangling off of his dad as katsuki tried to stop him from wiggling out of his grip. “i’m so exciteeeddd!—”

“hi my love!” you gushed warmly, smile wide as you extended your arms and walked forward, taking milo in your arms and setting him on your hip. “how are you? you excited to hang out with meee?”

“yes! yes!” he vigorously nodded. “i wanna show you all my race cars!”

“oh i can’t wait to seeee!” you bounced him on your hip and he giggled, you turning your attention and smiling at katsuki.

“hi kats!”

“the little brat is hogging—”

milo blew a silly raspberry at him before wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck.

you laughed and ran a soothing hand over the little man’s back, katsuki rolling his eyes before stepping to the side and letting you in, shutting the door behind him and leading you over to the kitchen.

and jesus christ you looked beautiful, him noting that pink was what you mainly wore on the day to day as he eyed your small rosy cardigan, you walking through his home and looking around and oblivious to the way he was staring at you like a fucking creep.

katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched your eyes scan your surroundings, stupidly nervous about what you’d think of his house and furniture and minuscule decorations, and annoyed with himself that he’d even give a shit about something like that, trying to occupy himself and ignore it as he looked in the oven and lifted lids of various pots and pans, checking over tonight’s dinner.

“i’m sorry i’m behind…” he grumbled and waved his hand around. “had to clean the house and shower milo since he decided to play in the fuckin’ mud this morning.”

“oh you don’t have to apologize for that kats!” you looked at him worriedly. “you don’t have to apologize for anything i totally understand…”

you hoisted milo further up your hip and grinned. “i’m just happy to spend time with the both of you.”

katsuki felt smoke puff out of his red ears as he nodded and scratched the back of his neck, turning slightly and lifting the lids from his pots and pans again.

“miss preettyyyy!” milo whined. “when can i show you my race cars?!”

katsuki scowled and you laughed.

“now honey! but how about we move some of your toys to the living room so i can spend time with both you and dad? how does that sound?”

“yayayay!!” milo cheered, bouncing on your hip as you smiled cutely and set him down, him running off down the hall and you quickly following after him.

milo talked you through his entire collection of race cars as you both sat down on the living room rug— telling you the model of each and every one, what they did, how fast they went, they places they’d gone, and which were his favorites as you excitedly talked to him about his cars and shifted conversation between him and katsuki, a task he was surprised you did so efficiently, but then quickly realized that that was literally your fucking job everyday dealing with little brats talking your ears off and you attending all of them at the same time.

and when it came around to dinner time, you helped katsuki set up even through his snapping and huffing that you absolutely shouldn’t, you giving him a silly little face as you assisted anyways and set up milo’s booster seat, picking him up and sitting him down before buckling him up while katsuki placed your dishes on the table—

and gourmet fucking dishes at that.

you were bewildered. absolutely bewildered as you gawked over the lasagna platter he set before you, it delicate and fancy looking as he had even draped sauce on your gray ceramic plate in gourmet intricate designs, knowing that katsuki had mentioned to you he was a chef over the several months you’d gotten to know him, but you didn’t know exactly to which extent that chef occupation stretched to.

“kats…” you murmured. “what do you do for a living.”

“i told you idiot.” he passed over a couple of napkins and you gratefully took them, taking one then and wiping down milo’s mouth as he messily ate his cut up pieces of lasagna. “i’m a cook.”

“yeah but what kind? where?”

“why?” he gruffed. “does it look like shit?”

“no!” you giggled. “absolutely not the opposite actually! this is probably the most beautiful lasagna i’ve ever seen in my life.”

“duh.” he responded, but sent you a small smile as he ate. “i’m an executive chef down at a restaurant in the city.”

your jaw dropped. “the city?! you’re so cool kats! oh my goodness!”

his face flushed.

“my dad says his boss is a piece of—”

“don’t say it!” katsuki snapped at his son, eyes wide as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage the little man any further.

“milo i told ya not to cuss until you’re ten—”

“ten?!” you giggled loudly and let your hand fall, sticking your fork in your lasagna and eating. “as long as he cusses with you and not at you… i think it should be fine!”

katsuki stopped.

you get it. or you rile up his bad cussing habit. either or he might as well have found his fucking soulmate.

“miss pretty!” milo called.

“yes my love?”

“do you have a boyfriend?”

katsuki smacked a hand on his forehead and you snickered.

“i don’t!” you grinned. “why milo?”

“because i want you to be my new—”

“milo if ya shut your mouth right now i’ll buy you two new race cars tomorrow.”

his son gasped dramatically and pursed his lips shut, eyes big and excited as he tried to contain himself and do as told.

“his new what?” you tilted your head cutely, katsuki’s heart hammering against his rib cage as he stuffed his mouth with food.

he shrugged. “the fuck should i know?”

“but i wanna know!” you pouted, taking your final bites of your yummy dinner.

he swallowed.

“do you want dessert?”

you gasped. “oh my god yes! i do!”

“then i suggest you shut your mouth too.”

you laughed over the table, quickly nodding as you pursed your lips like milo and pinched your thumb and index finger together, running it across your mouth and twisting your wrist like a pretend lock before dropping your hand in your lap, giddy and excited over dessert.

katsuki playfully rolled his eyes and stood, collecting all of your plates and stacking them on top of each other before taking them over to the sink.

“dad!” milo called as he bounced in his seat, katsuki grunting in response.

“what’d you make for dessert!”

“mochi.”

“yaaaayyyyy!” he cheered happily. “can i eat it with y/n in the living room?”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “the living room?”

“yeah!” milo exclaimed. “so i can keep showing her my race cars!”

he struggled for a moment before eventually nodding. “alright… but don’t make a mess i just cleaned—”

you and milo ended up building a fucking fort once he gave you the all clear, you both saying something about it adding to the ambiance as you used the couch cushions for makeshift walls and milo’s choo choo train sheets for the roof and tent, katsuki before he knew it his entire living room a fucking mess as the three of you sat amongst the scattered about pillows and blankets eating your bits of mochi, milo mainly inside the little tent you made for him as you and katsuki were too big to fit inside with him.

his living room was a mess… but he didn’t mind.

katsuki didn’t mind the mess.

your way of living was entirely different from his, as yours had everything to do with mess due to your full time job with kids— paint all over your hands and face, marker stains on your clothes and sticky glue residue and pieces of cut up construction paper somehow in your hair, all things katsuki despised for years and made sure his house never reflected any of that.

but in that moment, with his living room in complete disarray and the positioning of his couches utterly fucked up? the dishes still in the sink and the table still set?

katsuki didn’t fucking care.

because he had never seen his son so happy. he had never seen him so excited and hyper as you helped him set up and somehow tie fairy lights that katsuki had somewhere up in his attic for holiday seasons around the fort, you looking fucking gorgeous under the dim dark lightning as you read milo one of his favorite children’s books you got from his little shelf in his room— ‘the very hungry caterpillar,’ one of your favorites too as his son followed along with you and giggled whenever you’d make a silly joke only a five year old would find funny.

and katsuki felt warm… that’s all he ever felt when he was around you.

is this what it was like to be a family?

“oh my goodness i almost forgot!” you quickly sat up and handed milo the book, him taking it as you crawled over and reached for your bag. “i brought something for you honey!”

milo gasped and sat up. “really?! what?!”

you pulled out a ceramic cream colored globe with hollowed out stars, a small bulb inside as you scooched on your knees back over to a curious katsuki and milo.

“woah..” his son whispered. “what is it?”

you smiled and reached for the nearest outlet, plugging in the little globe and flicking a switch.

the darkened room illuminated itself then with the soft murmur of a lullaby playing, star shaped shadows slowly shifting around the entire living room as milo gasped and stood, frantically pointing at each moving shadow and gushing while his little mind was trying to process how cool and fascinating this was.

and all katsuki could do was stare at you.

stare at the way you sat back on your ankles and pointed with milo, counting how many stars you could see before it shifted and repeating that for fun, stare at the way both of your eyes glowed with wonder and curiosity, and stare at the way you smiled so gracefully and looked unreal now under the starry lights, his heart on overdrive at how gentle you were and how much you cared about his son.

about him.

and katsuki was sure then he was absolutely sick over you.

you all settled after a while of playing games and eating more mochi, especially milo, the little lullaby knocking him out as he snored next to you in his fort, you and katsuki laying down next to each other as you stared up at the shifting stars.

“i’m sorry i made such a mess in your living room..” you whispered bashfully. “i promise i’ll pick everything up before i leave.”

he shook his head. “don’t worry about it i can pick up. it’s fine.”

you smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the ceiling, feet planted on the blanketed flooring as your mindlessly moved your propped up knees side to side.

“was it hard raising milo on your own kats?” you asked softly, fingers wrung together neatly on your tummy.

“it was at first.” he mumbled. “but i got used to doin’ it on my own.”

you frowned, not particularly happy with the idea that katsuki had to raise a human being on his own without any help or guidance, wishing that he would’ve had someone there to help him every once in a while, or just be there for him.

“you did an exceptional job, okay?” you began. “you should know that... milo is such an honest kid… and he’s so precious too.”

katsuki’s eyes softened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in fear of you noticing his stupid flustered face as he opted for keeping his gaze glued to the starry ceiling, your sugary peachy perfume not fucking helping as he decided to sit up instead.

“he is.” he grunted softly. “don’t know how his mom didn’t see that.”

you faltered and sat up with him.

“what do you mean?”

katsuki eyed you before looking down, hands flat behind him propping himself up as he thought.

“ah… milo happened because of some random hookup i had in college.” he mumbled. “didn’t love her or anythin’, i barely knew her but still told her i’d support her and the baby obviously.”

you nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“i was there through her entire pregnancy and when milo was born… but the minute she got discharged from the hospital and took him with her, i woke up at four in the mornin’ with a knock on my door and milo left abandoned on my doorstep.”

you gasped, hand hovering over your mouth.

“are you— are you serious?”

katsuki nodded.

“she wouldn’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. i went to her house and found out she took the first flight she could to fuck knows where.” he shook his head bitterly. “but i didn’t give a shit about me i’ll raise him i don’t care. it was never about me.

he looked at you. “it was about milo. i didn’t want him to know that his ‘mom’ left him behind like that, and i didn’t want him to think it was his fault or anythin’… shits ridiculous.”

katsuki shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling. “still don’t know how she could ever do something like that.”

the sound of a hiccup make his eyes widen and snap back to you, your eyes filled with fat tears as your bottom lip wobbled, hands coming up to cup over your mouth and nose as you tried to keep it in.

“you’re crying?”

you nodded, squeaky slight sobs slipping past your throat as you strained to keep everything down.

“that’s so cruel.” you cried softly, embarrassingly drowning in your tears in front of him yet again. “you didn’t deserve that at all kats… milo didn’t deserve that you both should’ve had such a good mommy and— and a good support system—”

katsuki pushed himself up and wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you in and rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly.

“you cry over everything y/n.”

“s—” hic! “—sorry—”

he laid the side of his head on top of yours as you shook, somehow feeling guilty of what he told you just because of how much you were crying.

more than when he gave you those star shaped fruits.

“oi…”

katsuki pulled back and looked at you, reaching up and wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“don’t cry baby…”

baby?!

you funnily sobbed even more and shoved your face in his chest, him chuckling as he wrapped his arms back around you and gently swayed side to side.

“stop it idiot.” he mumbled. “it’s fine. it happened years ago n’ milo and i have always been alright on our own.”

…but he wanted you now.

now that he knew what it was like to be softly cared for by someone precious like you, to feel what it was like to be warm and fuzzy and sunshine and rainbows and candy all of the time… and katsuki wanted you so. bad.

“i know..” you hiccuped. “and i’m really glad but i just wish you had someone.”

you pulled away and quickly wiped your wet cheeks. “m’sorry i cried all over your shirt—”

“don’t give a fuck.”

you breathed out a laugh and dropped your hands in your lap, looking at your fingers as you sniffed.

you were always crying for him.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

he looked to the side with a blush to his cheeks.

“thanks for comin’ today.”

you smiled brightly and nodded.

“of course kats! how could i not?” you looked behind you to a sleeping milo, reaching over and pulling his blanket a little further up his shoulders. “i want you to know that i wanna be there for you and milo…”

he shifted his gaze to you as you turned back around.

“whether— whether you wanna keep seeing me or not—” you gnawed nervously at the inside of your cheek. “which i hope you do! but— but if not that’s totally fine i just want to be there for you both…”

how were you so pure? so thoughtful?

“why the hell wouldn’t i wanna keep seeing you?” he huffed, grumbly and embarrassed as he pursed his lips. “i’d be stupid as fuck not to…”

you blushed, happy shiny eyes looking at him eagerly like he was everything and more, and he wasn’t used to people looking at him like that whatsoever as your gaze flickered down to his lips and back up.

and you were so pretty.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

he slowly leaned closer.

“would you be mad if i made a move on you—”

“of course not—”

katsuki lunged and planted his rough lips on yours, you tasting like straight sugar and honey as he placed his big hands on the sides of you head and held you like a piece of delicate glass, kissing and sliding your tongues in each others mouths rather quickly and breathy as he moved one hand from your pretty face down to your waist to grip it.

you placed your hands on the blanketed floor and slowly crawled over to him during the makeout, him reaching and wrapping the rest of his built muscly arms around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down your sides and back, wanting to feel you as much as he possibly could and squeeze you tight as he gulped your little self down, brows furrowed and lips red.

katsuki pulled away and ran his fiery wet mouth across your jaw and to the spot right below your ear on the side of your neck, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as he bit and sucked and still squeezed you, manhandling you in a way and eating you up.

your eyes fluttered open once you heard a slight rustle, your line of sight catching milo shifting a little in his sleep.

“k—kats—” you breathlessly whispered, pushing a little at his shoulders.

he grunted.

“milo—” you pointed. “he’s waking up—”

“the fucks that gotta do with us—”

“kats!”

he groaned and pulled his mouth from you, scowling over to see his son only shifted positions and was now directly facing the both of you, tiny eyes closed as he drooled and was probably dreaming about race cars and his dads shark shaped pb & j sandwiches.

“the little runt is fine—” he shoved his face back in and gnawed at your neck again as you gasped.

“nooo!” you whined and giggled softly. “now i’m scared he’s gonna wake up…”

he huffed and officially pulled away this time, red eyes dilated and half lidded as he looked over your pinky cheeks and shy face, the purple and blue mark he made on your neck making the right side of his lips curve up into a little prideful smirk, you too distracted to notice over the way he clutched and loosened up the hold on your waist repeatedly.

katsuki kept you on his lap and scooched himself down, laying on his back and head on the pillow as he nudged you to lay on him completely over his chest and body, you more than happy to do so as you settled your head on his pecs and got comfortable with his strong arms around you— feeling so safe and looked after.

and you hadn’t expected to sleep over… but you just didn’t wanna leave, and katsuki sure as hell didn’t want you to either as you softly and quietly talked over the small tinkling of the lullaby and milo’s soft breathing, shadowy stars still slowly shifting around you as you easily switched between various topics— ranging from serious to silly as you ran a loving hand over his chest and his on your back, the both of you subconsciously lulling each other to sleep until you were just as passed out on the floor as milo.

since then, katsuki didn’t wanna let you out of his sight.

as if he wasn’t already involved enough with milo’s school activities because of you, this man became a fucking member of the pta and volunteered himself for every single event so as long as you were there, helping you out especially with fundraisers and bake sales as his desserts always sold out quicker than anything else and made bank as he snickered and boasted at the other parents that weren’t selling as much, you giving him a silly glare that never failed to shut him right up as he wanted to be good for you and not upset you.

the front desk lady even went from hating him to loving him, katsuki grumbling and chucking her a bag of leftover fundraiser chocolate chip cookies on her desk as he passed by to drop off milo in the mornings, serving as a ticket way in and to get her to shut up now instead of yelling at him from down the hall.

and he continued to give you yummy star shaped fruits.

except now some days they looked like hearts or little flowers, and he always made his fruit assortments different so you wouldn’t get tired of them and added different dippings like caramel or chocolate hazelnut, you gushing and nearly bawling literally everyday whenever you’d open the container and milo giggling at you during lunch.

you also never went a day without stopping by or staying over at katsuki’s house since your first initial date, your days so much fun and filled with love as you ate lunch or dinner with the two of them, laughing at milo’s sporadic comments or katsuki’s barking and scolding while you either played with milo, helped katsuki clean up the house and him the kitchen or you the kitchen and vice versa, or simply cuddle on the couch with kisses shared amongst you and katsuki— the three of you with milo seated peacefully and comfortable in the middle while you watched a movie or lulled the little man to sleep.

and katsuki had never felt so complete as he started leaving messes behind without even realizing or stressing about it, and he didn’t know when the fuck it was that he turned so soft and sappy— the change a bit strange to those who knew him as he was just a teeny weeny less explosive and angry over small things, and more so when it came to you and his son.

“make sure you keep your little bucket hat on honey, okay? it’s hot today and i don’t want you to tire yourself out milo.”

the end of the year field trip for the kindergarteners this year was a voyage to the local wildlife sanctuary, a gorgeous exhibit that sat right next to the national science museum in your city, its main attraction being the 25 foot koi pond and butterfly wonderland that housed various butterfly species and their little habitats— the kids field trip assignment being to count how many they see throughout the day and pick one koi fish and butterfly to draw on their journals.

katsuki, of course, volunteered as a chaperone.

“single file line please my loves!” you called, hand by your mouth. “and don’t seperate from your friends okay?! everyone stay where i can see—”

“oi!” katsuki barked, snapping and pointing at a rogue kid who decided to break free from the line and run across the grass. “the fuck do you think you’re doing!—”

“kats!” you breathed out a shocked laugh. “you’re gonna get me fired if you talk to the kids like that—”

“shit! sorry— i’m sorry baby hold on—”

katsuki booked it across the grassy lawn and caught up with the running kid on the other side, the rest of your class giggling and cackling as katsuki swooped him up with one arm and dangled him upside down while he kicked and swung tiny punches to his abs, katsuki not even flinching.

“do that again and see what happens brat.” he spat, the little kid not having a single care in the world as he giggled with the rest of the class, all of them deviously planning to piss katsuki off as much as possible since his outbursts were just funny.

“okay okay—” you smiled apologetically at him before taking the dangling boy from his arm and setting him back down, fixing over his clothes and backpack before patting his head and standing upright.

“no more running alright?” you placed your hands on your hips. “don’t we wanna see some cute little fishies and butterflies?!”

“yeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the babies cheered excitedly, each of them immediately returning to their designated spots in two lines as you grabbed your line leaders tiny hands and started the walk down the grassy field to the sanctuary.

“lemme help ya with one line baby—” katsuki went to grab one of your line leaders hands until they burst into a crying fit.

“no! no! i wanna hold miss y/n’s hand!”

katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “what’s so bad about me hah?”

“you’re ugly! miss y/n is pretty!”

the rest of the kids ruptured, laughing as katsuki sent death glares to a literal child, about to spout something nasty until his eyes flickered to your pleading face, his muscles instantly relaxing as he casted his gaze to the ground with a grumble.

you giggled and gave him a sweet kiss to his cheek in gratitude, his face flushing as he eyed your deep blue overalls and pinky shirt and the way your sunglasses sat pretty in your hair on top of your head.

“what honey?” you tilted your head.

“none of your business.”

you snickered and nudged your shoulder with his, looking over at milo from somewhere in the line to make sure he was okay before walking up the front gates of the sanctuary.

the wildlife guide met you once you all were cleared and inside the greenhouse, your kids absolutely restless as they ‘listened’ to whatever the guide had to say and just wanting to break free and run around to look at all of the fishies and butterflies like you had promised, and you not even listening either as you drooled over the way katsuki’s muscles looked under his t-shirt.

“any questions sweetheart?”

“huh?” your eyes snapped to the guide, cheeks pink as you quickly shook your head. “oh! no not at all! thank you ma’am!”

“alrighty then! just please make sure to tell your students—”

suddenly your two perfect lines broke apart as the kids started running around and pointing at fluttering butterflies and screaming, the guide looking like she’d seen a ghost as the usual quiet and serene sanctuary was now the epitome of noise.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry—” you guiltily apologized. “my kids will settle down they’re just excited is all…”

the guide kindly waved you off before walking back to the main office, you turning and expecting to see katsuki standing next to you, but faltering once you saw he was on the other side and pulling one of your kids down that had climbed up the gates of one of the sanctuaries closed off exhibits.

“oh god..” you mumbled, about to make your way over until you spotted milo in a corner alone, staring at one of the koi ponds.

“milo?” you called softly, walking up to him.

your heart sank once he turned and you saw his little tear filled eyes and wobbling lip.

“oh no!” you gasped, crouching down and taking his tiny hands in yours. “what’s wrong my love? are you okay? is it too hot?”

you pushed some of his spiky blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead as he shook his head.

“i can’t draw!” he sniffled. “and the koi fishies keep moving…”

your shoulders relaxed in relief.

“that’s okay!” you took his journal and pencil, wiping his wet cheeks as you smiled sweetly. “as long as we’re patient with the fishies, they’ll swim back and you can draw them again!”

you opened his journal and flipped to a new blank page, the both of you waiting quietly until a big chubby koi fish swam by.

“there!” milo whispered and pointed, and you quickly drew what you could, just making out the shape of the body before it disappeared again.

“and now we wait!” you grinned up at him. “the fishy will come back around and you’ll be able to draw it again.”

“kayyy!!”

“and you can draw milo. i’ve seen your artwork in class, remember? you always get a gold star!”

he giggled. “i do miss pretty!”

you ran a soothing hand over his back before passing his journal back.

“now you try honey—”

“i love you.”

you froze and looked up, katsuki standing there with a sincere and vulnerable look in his eye.

you stood from your crouched position and looked at him wide eyed.

“i’m not— i’m not good at this kinda shit at all and i always say somethin’ dumb but i do.”

“kats—”

“and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it but i tried to make it obvious with my stupid shaped fruits n’ shit… and i always thought you kinda just knew…”

milo was too busy focusing on catching glimpses of the koi fish to draw with his tongue peeking out to even realize what was going on next to him.

“you’re so patient baby. the way you are with me… the way you are with my kid. i need that in my life and i can’t live without it at this point…” he spoke genuinely. “your fuckin’ fault.”

you giggled and covered your face with your hands, face hot to the touch and bashful at everything he was telling you.

“come here.”

you listened and walked forward, dropping your arms as you wrapped them around his abdomen and his around your head, squishing you in his big chest as he propped his chin up.

“do you love me too or what.” he frowned. “cause if not this is shitty and embarrassing—”

“no i do!” you giggled, pulling away and giving him a cheeky smile. “i do kats you know that… i love you. so much.”

he smiled and pecked your lips. “good, miss pretty.”

katsuki had heard the entire conversation you had with his son, your words seeping with such tenderness and care, and he almost passed the fuck out when he thought about how much of a blessing you were, something he’d be a fool not to snatch up and take as he nearly fucking proposed to you in the middle of the sanctuary like an idiot, not knowing at all how a person that pissed people off for a living was loved by a woman who was the definition of pure.

because how the fuck did an angry dunce like him, get lucky with an angel like you?

“oh my god that dumbass kid is climbin’ the fence again— oi!”

katsuki quickly kissed your cheek before flying to the other side of the sanctuary, you doubling over in laughter as you watched him fight and tug and pull, your student not budging at all whatsoever and the rest of the kids laughing at how red katsuki was getting in the face.

“miss pretty!” milo tugged at your overalls, and you looked down to see him holding up his open journal, a cute wobbly sketch of a koi fish on the page as he smiled big. “i drew it! do you like it?!”

“wow milo!” you gushed, crouching down to his level and taking the journal, examining his artwork. “this is beautiful my love! see? i knew you could do it!”

“thank youuu!” he responded sweetly, his little cheeks blushing as he looked at you like he had another thing he wanted to say.

you tilted your head. “do you wanna tell me something else?”

“yeaaahhh.” he dragged. “please love my dad… i know he’s mean but— but he doesn’t mean it!”

your eyes softened as milo looked down at his shoes.

“and love me too… because i want you to be my new mommy…”

you quickly blinked back tears as to not alarm milo, surprisingly successful at preventing them from slipping down your face.

“i do love your dad honey… and you. the both of you i love so so much.”

he beamed. “really?!”

you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “and i thought i was already your mommy milo!”

the little man gasped and flung his arms around your neck.

“YAAAYYY!” he yelled. “miss pretty is my mommy! i have a mommy now!”

ever since you came into katsuki’s life, his way of living materialized into something completely different.

because now instead of his house being plain and boring and organized from top to bottom without a single thing out of place— it was warm now… happy. and never went a day without smelling like cookies and vanilla as you and katsuki baked with milo any chance you could, set up more pillow forts and tents with starry ceilings, and slept with milo in his room as he snored content in his little bed, you sprawled directly on top of katsuki like he always had you as you both every day intended to leave after putting his son to rest, but ending up falling asleep on the floor each time.

the three of you were a little family.

and katsuki didn’t know why he hated messes so much in the first place.

because mess signified that something had been there, something sunny and tender, something that signified family as you peppered kisses over both your boys’ faces everyday and katsuki drowning you in his rough ones— your man squeezing you so tight all of the time and anywhere, as milo wasn’t just his son now but yours too as you took him to the park or to the aquarium on your days off, the three of you gently living as both of milo’s small hands were occupied now instead of just one.

katsuki’s life looked like it had been generously cherished and lived in for a change.

and katsuki bakugo loved messes.

so as long as they were from you.

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