#*had to hear parents say 'i want my kids to Succeed' over and over again

[sbg-loving-pierog]

Let's talk about The Hernandez Family!

and why the whole situation with Tyler is actually a good thing to happen.

(‼️Spoilers for episodes 43-51‼️)

You've been warned...

Starting off with ep. 43 when we see Mariana Hernandez - Taylor and Tyler's mother - for the first time.

You can see the tension rising when she mentions the twin's father, which at the time is suspicious but since it goes unexplained it doesn't bring much of our attention until

Back then we couldn't confirm what that means, not until ep. 48 and Tyler's flashbacks. Now we know that the twins' father is dead, so that tells us that their mother doesn't seem to remember about that. To say more, she's CONVINCED that he's still alive because even when the situation points to him not being with them anymore, she still only finds it a bit weird but doesn't seem to remember the truth.

Either she doesn't want to remember it, or it's a part of some kind of medical, mental condition, but something that helps keep up this Delusion is that, as we know, after the death of Ethan Hernandez, Tyler took over his responsibilities.

Mariana never had to take over anything her husband did for the family, she didn't feel the weight that fell on them after his passing. All "thanks" to Tyler.

And for some reason her kids try to keep up this facade with distracting her from thinking about their father before she remembers anything

And they succeed, bringing them to the point when they are the ones that take care of her, instead of it being the other way around, as it should. She probably still does her share of responsibilities a parent should have (a part she was doing before too, when Ethan was alive) but the other half AND the mental burden is all on Tyler and Taylor.

But something changes in ep. 51

When Tyler is "injured", her first instinct is to call her husband - and his father - which is understandable, you wouldn't really think logically in a situation like that, but for Mariana, this is when the truth and logic finally hits her

She reminds herself that she can't call Ethan for help and you can clearly see that she's about to panic

But then Taylor comes in, and changes her mother's thinking of "I'm on my own, what do I even do?" To "I have others to care for, I'll think about myself later".

You can almost hear her thoughts saying "You're their mother. Act like it".

This is the moment she realizes that:

1. She can't depend on Ethan anymore

2. Tyler won't always be there to help her

3. She has to be strong for her kids because she should be. Because it's her responsibility that she's been neglecting... or just wasn't able to bring to life for WAY too long

After Tyler wakes up and the group leaves the hospital, it's said that his mom stayed there with him. I think both the time when Taylor needed her support and the time they spent together with Tyler when she was the one caring for him for a change will normalize their family situation. It will help Mariana realize that Tyler was and is still just a kid, and was never ready to take over his father's "position" in caring for her and Taylor, even if he did it because he had to.

That's what I think anyways, I'm open to discussion though ^^ and well, now as they're separated, their relationship will either freeze for a moment, or change again and hopefully it'll become even stronger after another reunion :)

[flyingwargle]

miya twins week day 7: "do you think we're twins in every universe?"

atsumu opens his dream journal, picks up his pen, and starts writing.

i had the same dream again, the one where i’m like 7 or 8. i’m running to granny’s along the stream. there’s a boy behind me, and he gets further and further behind, until he trips and falls. he starts crying. i turn around and run back to him. this time, i say, “ya needa watch where yer goin’,” and he doesn’t say anything. i try to pull him up, but then i think the dream ends.

his dreams are always the same, always with the same boy, but never end the same way. once, he was the one who tripped while running along the stream, and the boy offered his hand. in another, they’re playing a sport in a gym, and he’d pass the ball to the boy to score. most of the times, he succeeds and they high-five, but a few times, he’d fail, and they fall in defeat.

his favorite dream, though, never changes. he and the boy are lying on the grass, watching the sky, pointing at shooting stars. despite being comforted, his chest would twist with sorrow or relief, depending on whether he dreams long enough to hear the conversation. he recorded it once, years ago, the page tear-stained, writing messy.

“hey,” i say, or maybe it’s the other kid, except we aren’t kids, but young adults. “do you think we’re twins in every universe?”

“what kinda dumbass question is that?” the other kid says, or maybe it’s me. it’s hard to tell, since we kinda sound the same. “of course we are. an’ even if we aren’t, we’ll find each other someway, somehow, somewhere." there’s so much conviction in his voice that i believe it, even though i never had a sibling. but it’s nice to know that maybe, in a past life, or just in my dreams, that i had a brother that i could rely on.

atsumu asked why he didn’t have a sibling, once. “it’s ‘cause yer pa an’ i can only handle one o’ ya,” ma said, ruffling his hair. “what, ya wish we didn’t give ya so much attention?” he laughed it off, but there were days when he’d return to a silent home, or struggle to fall asleep because of how empty his room felt. he loves his parents, but sometimes…it felt like something was missing.

or maybe someone.

when he was scouted by a university volleyball team in tokyo, he took it, saying goodbye to his high school friends and parents. in a city where it’s rare to see the same face twice, he loses himself in the crowds, meeting new people, learning from different coaches, experiencing campus life to its fullest. no matter what he did, though, the dreams didn’t stop, deepening his loneliness.

one night, he’s dragged to an izakaya with his teammates. atsumu sits at the bar, cheek in hand, thumbing through his dream journal while his beer gets warm. someone picks up the glass, and he snaps his head upwards, mouth opening when–

“i noticed yer beer’s been sittin’ fer a while. here’s a new one.”

“oh. thanks.” atsumu takes a sip, the cool, bitter liquid tickling his throat.

“whatcha readin’?”

“this? it’s nothin’, just my dream journal.”

the izakaya worker hums. “that’s pretty cool. not many people keep those.”

“yeah. i kept dreamin’ o’ the same things, so my doctor said i should write ‘em down. it’s always with this other boy that kinda looks an’ sounds like me.” atsumu chuckles to himself. “i’m startin’ ta think that he might be my twin o’ some sort. i guess the universe wanted us ta live separately, fer once.”

“that’s mighty interestin’.”

“ya don’t hafta pretend. i bet i don’t make much sense, with the beer an’ all.”

that earns him a laugh. “ya aren’t drinkin’ as much, compared ta yer teammates over there. i think yer fine.”

“thanks.” atsumu closes his journal. “ya got an accent. ya also from kansai?”

“yep. even though my family moved when i was young, tokyo never washed it out.”

“oh. whereabouts?”

“hyogo.”

atsumu gives pause. he straightens, finally locks eye with the izakaya worker. it’s like looking in a mirror – he has the same eyes, though hooded and dark gray, hair sweeping to the left. his chin is pointy, nose slightly crooked, muscles straining beneath his black t-shirt. “same,” atsumu whispers. “what’s yer name?”

“me? osamu. how 'bout ya?"

“atsumu. no surname?”

osamu falters, the corners of his mouth falling slightly. “sorry, bad habit. i always feel like i need ta use my given name, or else i’d get confused with someone else, even though no one has the same surname.”

“same.”

they stare at each other, gray against blonde. atsumu bites his bottom lip, fingers toying with the pages of his journal. then, he slides it forward. “i think ya should read this.”

after brief hesitation, osamu takes it and reads last night’s entry.

the boy and i, we’re in high school now. we’re arguing. we’ve argued before about like, stealing clothes or eating each other’s snacks, but this is different. i don’t remember how or why, but it just is, like we’re going separate ways, and it hurts, and neither of us want to admit it. i know, though, that deep down, we’d still be there for each other, and if one of us falls, the other would be there. my chest still feels tight, and i think i cried in my sleep, but i also feel…comforted? that someone i’ve never seen in my life has my back? will i ever meet him and learn who he is?

“i think it’s ya.” atsumu’s voice is quiet. “i think yer the twin that we’re supposed ta be, no matter the universe.”

osamu doesn’t say anything, just flips through some of the old entries until he stops, losing his breath. he lowers the journal, reaches for his shirt collar, and pulls it down to where a delicate moon tattoo sits on his collarbone. “when i was eighteen, i dreamed i was watchin’ the stars with someone, some boy that looks like me. we were talkin’, when the boy suddenly asked if we’d be twins in every universe. i said, o’ course, scrub, but when i woke up, i was alone. i never had a twin. i’ve always been an only child.” he releases his shirt, presses his hand over it. “i got this tattoo ta remind myself that someone out there is my sun, an’ i think…i think it’s ya.”

an’ even if we aren’t, we’ll find each other someway, somehow, somewhere. although the universe separated them, they still found each other, the moon to the sun, the silver to the gold, two halves of a whole, because not even fate can overwrite the inextricable bond between them.

brothers. if not by blood, then by choice. if not by choice, then in memory. forever, until the end of time.

[vulpeskorsak]

Day 6 of Whumptober 2024: Failed Investigation

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY’RE INJURED Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | “It’s not my blood.”

AO3 got banned in my country and VPNs have not been working well on my PC lately, so I am not going to post these there for now. But hopefully I can do that at some point.

This is taking place in a hidden-supernatural modern day setting.

Alva is a radio host found of the supernatural, horror and mystery.

This is a moment from his childhood.

Continuing from Day 3.

--------------

Failed Investigation

"What are you doing here?!"

Alva takes off for the nearest door, knocking a chair over and almost getting his foot tangled up in a loose cable in the darkness of the radio station at night. He closes the door shut but to his surprise it does not have a lock.

He does not want to get caught by the police again. They told his parents off after he snuck in yesterday. They saw him already but it is dark and it can always be some other kid. Who would not want to explore an easily accessible mysterious crime scene, right? He frantically whips his head around and spot a window. That's it! He makes a dash to open it and succeeds just in time for the heavy hurried footsteps to approach the other side of the door. He hears it creak open. Shit! They cannot be allowed to see him!

Alva dives out of the window without thinking.

Crack!

He is not sure what just made the noise in his head but he suspects he might have lost one of his last baby teeth. Though he does not taste the blood for some reason.

Oh well. No time to dwell on it. He gets up and tried taking off again only to be grabbed by the collar from behind.

"Dang it…" He grumbles giving up immediately and letting himself hang loose as he is dragged back through the window.

"Should not have run, kid."

The man sounds very familiar but not like one of the officers he met yesterday.

He is dragged deeper into the room and the light is turned off. Here comes the trouble. Alva sighs, steeling himself for what is to come.

He turns around as he is let go and is surprised to find someone he frankly should have expected to see here and should have recognized.

"Sean The Boss!" He cannot help but say in awe.

He would appear on "Thomas and Jeremy" only on rare occasions but Alva has always thought the old man was one of the funniest guests. He was the owner of the Stellar Station building and all the radio equipment in it.

Alva saw him only once before during his second time at the station when they made their own merch for the first time and had a small shop set up here. That was a couple years ago by now but Sean's perfect goatee and impeccably hairless head coupled with a wide toothy smile stuck in Alva's mind for good. But this time the man is not smiling. He looks at Alva calmly without the expected anger but he seems genuinely tired and there is some clear gray visible in his beard. He thought that stress graying hair is a tall tale… thought he has not seen the owner for a while, so maybe it just happened in the interim.

"That would be me," the man chuckles humorlessly. "What are you doing here, kid?"

"I…" He does not want to lie to this guy. "I was hoping to find some clues… They kicked me out yesterday before I could look around properly. So I came back now that they have left."

"I see… Are you a big fan of the show?" Sean asks finally letting go and handing him a clear handkerchief for some reason.

"Yes!" Alva exclaims playing with the item, unsure why he needs to hold it. "And I cannot stand by and let Tom get punished for something he did not do! They have to have missed something!"

Sean sighs, looking at Alva's face intently. Is there something on it? He then looks down at the carpet between them. There is a clear fresh blood drop stain on it.

"Are you bleeding somewhere, Sir?" Alva asks, confused, for he does not see an injury on the man.

"It's not my blood, kid."

"Oh…"

Alva brings his left hand up to his face and almost immediately jerks it away as even a feint touch to his nose feels like it has been sent on fire. He cries out in surprise at the revelation. Some more drops fall down on the carpet and he brings the handkerchief up to prevent it from staining the carpet.

"Is- is it broken?! I've never broken my nose."

"I am pretty sure it is… Let's take you to the doctor, kid."

"My name is Alva," he insists.

"Alright, Alva. Where do your parents live?"

"They… Are you going to tell them?"

"Yes. I think they deserve to know, don't you?"

"I guess… Can you, please, not tell the police?"

Sean chuckles more genuinely this time.

"Sure, kid. There is no need for that. But we need to get this treated. You know, the sooner you go to the doctor after getting hurt or sick, the sooner you will heal."

Alva nods but does not follow the man as he begins to leave the room.

"What is wrong, kid- Alva?"

"Could I… look for more clues while you are here?"

"Do you think you are more observant than a trained police detective?"

"I- No, but maybe I'll get lucky?" He reluctantly follows, knowing he has lost this battle.

"Let's not rely on luck in a murder case, alright?"

Alva was about to say something but this shuts him up. Murder. Right. Somebody or something murdered Jeremy. He is gone. He will never hear him again. He will never hear his favourite show again. It is all over. Tears well up in his eyes as he quietly follows the station owner out.

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 88 - Mood Swings Part 1

It's the next morning and everyone got a full night's sleep... except for Ophelia and Xander. While Xander showers to perk up, Ophelia gets a wide awake Velma settled in with some toys so she can start cooking breakfast.

Vince: Good morning!

Ophelia: Morning, Vince. You sleep well?

Vince: Yeah. What are you making?

Ophelia: Smiley face berry pancakes. It's my gran's recipe.

Vince: I didn't know legacy founders could have grandmas.

Ophelia: I'm built different.

Vince: Can I help?

Ophelia: Sure, bud. There's some berries in the fridge. If you could rinse those in some cold water and dry them off for me, I'd appreciate it.

Vince: I'm on it!

Breakfast is served!

Violet's still kind of full from her nighttime snack and Ophelia and Xander don't want to force her to eat when she's not hungry so they let her play with Velma while they chow down.

These two need to bond if they're gonna take over the world with cuteness!

After everything's cleaned up, Violet decides she's hungry so Xander helps her into the high chair.

Val tries to knock out some homework because he knows his mom told him to get it done before the honeymoon ended and, again, the treehouse is no place for a growing boy to sleep.

Xander: Whatcha working on?

Val: Measurement conversions for math class. Like cups and fluid ounces and stuff.

Xander: You're in luck! I'm a bartender. I spend all day doing that.

Xander helps Val out while Violet plays with her food. Hey, at least she eats enough to be full.

Vince goes into the main bedroom to talk to Ms. Ophelia about yesterday. He doesn't want her to think he's a mean big brother. Valentin's always the one that starts being mean, not him! He just sassed Val on muscle memory. He really is trying to be on his best behavior!

Vince hears the shower running and is about to leave and come back later but he hears something else. Is she… crying?

Vince: Ms. Ophelia? Are you okay?

The crying stops, and the shower turns off.

Ophelia: Vince?

Had one of them upset her? Vince can't see how. He was trying so hard to show he was grateful for them being so nice and letting them stay here, and Valentin and Violet weren't being brats for once this morning.

Vince: Are you crying? What's wrong? Are we stressing you out?

Ophelia: Vince, sweetheart, no. Let me finish up in here and we'll talk.

Vince waits patiently for Ophelia to dry off and get dressed. She's been very nice to his whole family. If Ms. Ophelia is sad, Vince wants to help make her feel happy again.

Ophelia guides Vince over to the bed to chat.

Vince: I don't want you to be sad. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?

Ophelia: That's very kind but I'm okay. It's a grown-up thing, no need to worry. I've just felt a little… over-emotional the past few days.

Vince: Writing in my diary helps with my emotions.

Ophelia: Good idea.

Vince: Maybe my brother would be less mean if he tried it.

Ophelia: I know Val doesn't always makes the right or kind choice, but he's got a lot that he's struggling with. Try to be patient with him.

Vince: I do try but he's so annoying!

Ophelia: I think that comes with little brother territory. Mr. Xander is a little brother and he's VERY annoying but he and his big sister have a good relationship as adults. It might be hard now but I think you two will make it work.

Vince: If you say so. Are you sure I can't help you?

Ophelia: You don't need to worry about my grown-up problems, but you're very sweet. Your mom and dad must be proud.

Vince: I try my best!

Ophelia remembers trying to make her parents proud. At least with Vince, he succeeds.

Vince gives Ophelia a biiiig hug to try and squeeze the sadness out of her, because even if she says she's fine, he can tell something bigger is happening that she's not telling him. He might be a kid, but he's not stupid!

Vince might not be able to help Ms. Ophelia, but he knows someone who can. Who better to help out with a grown-up problem than another grown-up? Mr. Xander is her husband, he'll know what to do.

Vince: Mr. Xander, can you help with something?

Xander: Sure, buddy. What do you need?

Vince: Oh, I don't need help, Ms. Ophelia does.

Xander: What does Ms. Ophelia need help with?

Vince: She was crying in the shower. I heard from outside the bathroom door.

Xander: Crying? Are you sure?

Vince: Yeah, she said she's feeling "over-emotional" and it's a "grown-up problem" that I didn't need to worry about, but I thought maybe you could help her!

Ophelia's been having a lot of problems lately. Her stomach, randomly crying. It's almost like she's…

No, she couldn't be.

Could she?

But why would Ophelia not tell him? Xander hasn't exactly been checking her belly but she DID wear baggy pajamas last night…

Xander: Thanks for coming to me, Vince. I can definitely go help Ms. Ophelia, but I need you to help me by keeping an eye on Velma and Violet. I'll go talk to her upstairs, but just yell if you need anything, deal?

Vince: You got it! Thanks, Mr. Xander!

Vince is a man of his word and keeps an eye on the girls. Violet just finished playing with Valentin, so she's content to have some quiet time… for now.

Vince told Valentin about Ms. Ophelia crying so Val decides to spend his time doing something he thinks will cheer her up.

[theoddcatlady]

The Age of Enlightenment

My dad wasn’t great at being a dad.

I’m not saying he was Satan incarnate, he just had a bad temper is all. There was five of us kids, and after mom passed he was stuck raising us on his own, so he had to run a tight ship. Otherwise we would be nothing but lazy troublemakers.  

I was the second oldest, my sister Naomi was the oldest, and then there was Abby, Caroline, and Lil’ Liam. The moment Naomi was in highschool she was in charge of keeping house and making sure we were all good by the time dad got home.  

She was super bossy about it, but she just didn’t want to see Dad mad. And he was pretty scary when he was mad- threw things against the walls, screamed how we were all selfish brats who didn’t respect him, sometimes we got whacked but it was mostly just the yelling. Naomi was pretty grateful when I entered highschool- meant she wasn’t the only one who had to be bossy.

We did our best, you know- we cleaned the house, we did the laundry, everyone did their homework and by the time dad walked through the door dinner better be done or close to done and the table set.  

Like I said, we did our best. We didn’t always succeed, cuz the kids got cranky or didn’t want to clean or would hide their homework from us. Couldn’t hide homework from dad though. He could just about smell it.  

It was Thanksgiving vacation when they showed up on our door.  

We did good that day, Dad didn’t even look mad when we sat down for dinner. And then the doorbell rang.  

You could see the vein pop out of his forehead from across the table. I nearly sunk into the floor, we’d done so well that day and someone had to interrupt dad’s dinner. Not much made him more ticked than that.  

Initially he ignored it, grumbling something about salesmen, but we were all on edge. Caroline was pushing her peas around her plate instead of eating them and Liam was sucking on his thumb, at four he was too old for that but it was a nervous habit we’d yet to break out of him. I silently prayed for the people at the door to get the hint and leave.

Another ding-dong later and I knew we weren’t that lucky.

Dad shoved his plate away and stomped to the door while cussing up a storm. Naomi groaned and buried her face in her palms. All our hard work was now ruined by some jerks interrupting dinner.  

Since we were already screwed, I figured it couldn’t get any worse by sneaking after Dad and peering out of the wall to see who was at the door.  

My dad pulled the door open and barked an angry ‘WHAT?!’ at the people outside.  

They weren’t neighbors, obviously, most knew better than to come over to our house but I also could tell they weren’t salesmen. It was a pair, a man and a woman. The woman had curly brown hair and a wide smile, the man was prematurely balding and was more somber. The woman offered her hand to my dad, completely missing the fact he looked ready to blow his top. “Hi, I’m Ann, this is my husband Kennen. We’re here from the church down the ways. May we come in?” 

I swore Dad’s face went redder than a tomato, before he proceeded to literally laugh in their faces. “Get the hell off my porch, I’m not buying any of your damn books or going to any damn meetings.” He proceeded to slam the door in their faces… or would’ve, had Kennan not stuck his foot in the door.  

The door bounced back open and Kennan managed to mostly disguise his grimace with a cough. Ann was still smiling, offering forward a pamphlet. “I understand you’re likely a busy man, sir, but no one doesn’t have time for the truth. What time will you be available for a chat?”  

My dad snatched the pamphlet, crumpled it up and threw it in the garbage right next to the door. “Never. I work a full time job and have five brats to parent on my own,” He snarled.  

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, but if you’re looking for support, the church offers daycare and there’s counseling services for those who need a little help from their day to day-”

My dad slammed the door again, this time Kennan didn’t attempt to stop it. I skittered back to the dining room to avoid being caught away from the dinner table, but it didn’t matter. Dad stormed back in, screamed at Caroline for playing with her food, and told us all to get to our rooms, right now. I’d not had more than a bite of meat loaf but it didn’t matter- no one deserved dinner right now.

The thing is with a strict parent, you learn how to get around them. Even if the price was a heavy one to pay, I knew how to sneak around my dad to snitch something to eat. I couldn’t sleep with my stomach growling like it was.  

After gorging myself on cold, greasy meatloaf that was still on the table, I headed back to my room only to pause at the trash can.  

I almost went back up to my room, knowing if my dad happened to realize I snitched the pamphlet from the trash I’d be in for a beating and a grounding. But my curiosity outweighed my fear and I carefully lifted the crumpled up paper from the trash before hurrying to my room, careful not to step on any squeaky floorboards. I’d learned where each one was over my years of sneaking around.

Before you make an assumption, this wasn’t from the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Or really any other church I’d ever heard about before.  

These people were from The Enlightened. The pamphlet was nothing special, white paper with black print and a cartoony picture of a lamp on the front, probably some sort of clip art or whatever. But the words inside… they did something for me. I still have the first sentences memorized… ‘The age of enlightenment is upon us. The reason behind everything exists with us.’  

I poured over the few pages for days, hiding the pamphlet in my pillow so I could read it every night before bed. They said everything I wanted to hear- how we’re all here to help each other out, how life should be about loving and respecting others… it was truly enlightening.  

I wished so hard that Ann and Kennen would come back, I had so many questions I wanted to ask them. I was still a bit skeptical, back then, but just after we got home from school there was that knock at the door. I answered and there they were. Kennen now had a crutch, apparently Dad broke his foot, but there was no hard feelings.

“I read the pamphlet,” I blurted out before they could say a thing. Ann blinked a few times before she grinned ear to ear.

“I hoped someone would,” She said, taking my hand in hers and squeezing tightly, “Can we come in? Just for a few minutes.”  

I invited them in, poured them lemonade, and we talked. They explained everything.  

The Enlightened revered something called Beings. They weren’t to be worshiped, only respected and asked of for guidance. The Beings were here when we first arrived, after we swum through the stars as fish. Hell was in fact located in the sun, or well, a portal to hell was. We were lucky to have made it and were not distracted by the warmth.  

The being that Kennen and Ann revered the most was called Riesis, and Riesis asked them to come to my house. They knew someone would be interested in hearing them speak. And although yeah, back then the Being stuff seemed silly, Kennan and Ann were nice. We all liked them, even Naomi, who was even more unimpressed by the Beings than I was. Liam was practically curled up in Ann’s lap by the time Dad came home.

Not a single chore was done, homework hadn’t been touched, and Naomi had completely forgot about starting dinner when the door banged open. That meant Dad’s day at work was lousy so we better have done everything that needed to be done. Which. We hadn’t.

When he saw Ann and Kennen in our living room, his face went from white to red to purple so quickly I thought he had a stroke.  

“What the hell are they doing in our house?” His rage immediately turned on Naomi, who began to shake.

I couldn’t let her take the blame, not this time, so I stood up and told the truth. “I invited them in, Dad, they’re nice-”

I couldn’t tell him all I knew now, how I had become enlightened. Before I could, he backhanded me so hard I think a tooth almost went loose.  

“Are you stupid?!” Spittle flew from his enraged lips as he pointed at the couple. “These nutjobs aren’t even from a real church!”

For the first time, I saw Ann look mildly peeved. Her lips pressed together in a firm line as she stood. “At first I thought you were just jaded, but now I see you’re just as close minded as most of the world. The enlightenment is coming, sir, whether you want it or not.”

“Go back to your fish stories, you crazy bitch,” My dad sneered, “And get out of my house before I call the cops and tell ‘em you and your husband were doing some freaky shit with my children.”

My face went red at the implication and Ann sputtered angrily before taking a deep breath and the smile returning to her face, a smile that didn’t come close to seeming happy. “Fine. Good day, sir,” She walked to the door, her husband limping right behind him.  

After they were out of the house I got the worst beating of my life. My dad made me give him back the pamphlet and he shredded it into itty bitty pieces. I’d never be able to read it again. I couldn’t even lay on my back in bed that night because of how sore I was. My siblings were threatened with worse if anyone brought up The Enlightened ever again.

I fell asleep crying because I’d never be able to feel that happiness I felt with Ann again.

In the middle of the night I woke up to someone collapsing against my door. It scared the hell out of me, I nearly fell out of bed.

I heard a gurgle and against my better judgment, I walked up to the door and opened it.

There was my dad, slumped up on the ground, his front all soaked with blood pouring from a jagged wound in his throat. Naomi was standing right behind him, holding a steak knife so tightly in her red stained hand it was shaking.

I stared blankly at my dying father, who reached up to me in a silent gesture for help. I looked at my sister. A few specks of blood were drying on her bone white cheeks. I held out my hand. “Sis, give me the knife,” I said.

I didn’t need to ask twice, she gave it up so easily. I looked at my dad, who looked so damn relieved… until I raised the knife and jabbed it right into his chest so hard the blade snapped off the handle.  

My dad managed a final gasp before he slumped down dead. I looked up at Naomi, who sniffled and wiped the tears off her cheeks. “He… he came to me in my dream. Riesis. He told me… that this is what I needed to do so we could all join the Enlightened.” For the first time I can remember, she smiled. My big sister was always so serious, so grumpy and bossy. Now she finally looked free.

“Go call the cops and get cleaned up. Don’t worry, I’ll wipe off the knife so your prints aren’t on it. Go.”  

My sister took all the blame. Said she was done with my dad’s bullshit and finally snapped. I think it helped that everyone in the community knew that my dad was a dick and she was only sixteen. She’ll be out of prison in about seven more years, we’re planning on throwing a big party when she’s out.

Helped that Kennan was a great lawyer too. Turns out despite rarely saying a word out of the courtroom once he was in it he was a master of words. He represented Naomi pro bono, not a dime was spent on his defense and we owe him forever for it. And to add to this happily ever after, we got adopted by Kennan and Ann.  

Riesis told them they were meant to be our parents, it turns out. Ann couldn’t have kids, but he came to their dreams and told them to go to my house, and return when our dad wasn’t home. Originally the plan was to convince us to come along before he got home, but this way still worked. Ann’s a near perfect mom.  

I’m now eighteen myself. Much better off than I would’ve been if my dad was still alive. Tonight I’ll devote myself to service of Riesis.  

In return he will teach me how to whisper into people’s ears as they sleep, to tell people what he bids. I’ll be his voice now, along with Kennan and Ann.  

[aceyanaheim]

the fact  I put more thought into Gordon Bombay’s character than probably  the gc writers did  tbh

[jimblejamblewritings]

little situation | part 6.

Summary: For years, HYDRA had been trying to use the samples of Steve’s DNA to make another super-soldier. They finally succeed and when S.H.I.E.L.D. breaks her out, Cap is forced to come face to face with his kid and figure out parenting on an Avengers’ lifestyle.

Warnings: maybe potential childhood trauma but nothing really

Pairing: Steve Rogers x blackdaughter!reader, avengers x child!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist) 

“Happy 14th birthday, Sarah!”

Steve handed you a gift box. It had been a little under two years now with your dad and there were more ups than downs. You opened it to find multiple pairs of ballet shoes, including ones actually in your skin tone.

“You said you wanted to go back to dance. I thought maybe we’d enroll you in something, have you know more kids besides Clint’s.”

While you had opened up to Steve, Nat, and Clint, you were still very much affected by HYDRA. Steve had only gotten a clue to find you a therapist last year to work with. So for now you still went to work with Steve and learned from a tutor and textbooks— which your tutor struggled to find topics sometimes because your mother had already covered them.

Speaking of your mother, Steve had yet to find any living relatives. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t trying very hard. He wasn’t sure if he actually had real custody since HYDRA used him more as a glorified sperm donor than anything and maybe your family would want to take you and he wouldn’t be able to do much to stop it.

“Thanks, Dad.”

You gave him a hug and then you two left for your daily morning run. About two weeks ago, you announced that you had gotten bored of the old route so you and Steve decided to switch it up. Steve was still faster but not by much and enjoyed testing and racing you. You two were usually wild with how you ran considering no one else was around but the cars; however, there was one other person out today.

“On your left,” Steve called as you two ran past the man.

“On your left,” he called again after another couple of passes.

“Yep, on my left. Got it.”

The man must have been running the same path as you two because you had passed him again. He could hear you and Steve coming and looked over his shoulder.

“Don’t say it. Don’t say it.”

“On your left,” Steve said as he ran past.

“Oh come on!”

You laughed and slowed down to jog with him for a moment.

“Sorry about my dad,” you said before taking off again, yelling at Steve. “Cheater! You know I stopped to apologize!”

When you and Steve had finished your race— him winning, because he cheated— you spotted the man sweaty and breathing heavily underneath a tree. Steve approached him.

“Need a medic?” he joked.

“More like a new set of lungs. You two just ran, what, thirteen miles in a half hour?”

“Guess we got a late start.”

“Really? You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap… did you just take it? I assume you just took it.”

Steve laughed before spotting the symbol on the man’s sweatshirt.

“What unit are you with?”

“58th Pararescue. But now I’m working down at the VA. Sam Wilson.”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve said as he extended a hand to pull Sam up. “This is Sarah.”

“Kind of put that together. Must’ve freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing.”

“It takes some getting used to but this one’s trying to help me out.” Steve threw an arm around your shoulder.

“Nice hair, you two match.”

Sam had commented in attempts to acknowledge you, causing you to groan as he pointed to the honey blonde and straight pixie cut that looked scarily similar to Steve’s old hair from the 40s.

“I just said the wrong thing, didn’t I? Don’t like the cut?”

“It’s supposed to be this big.” You made a vague gesture to a large head of curls you should’ve had after two consistent years of hair growth.

“I said I was sorry, Babydoll.”

“Go ahead, tell him what you did.”

It was a few months ago. Both you and Steve were still learning how to do your hair as it slowly got longer and thicker. You came to the conclusion that the curl butter and softening conditioner you had bought wasn’t keeping the curls moisturized and soft enough. So Steve said that when he came back from a mission he’d buy a different one.

Clint dropped you off at home after you two came back from the farm and Steve proudly announced he found the new product he hoped would work and had learned a new twist out style. You sat down on the floor and let him run the product throughout your whole head. It wasn’t very long into it that your head started to itch.

“Dad, is it supposed to burn?”

You two ran to the sink and washed out the product but the damage was already done. So Steve once again busted out the clippers and tried to console you while you watched the blonde, damaged hair hit the floor.

He tried to make it better by cutting his hair as well which didn’t help much when his grew back to its normal style in a short amount of time while you were stuck. You weren’t sure if the straight hair looked significantly better than the curls, all of it was at such an awkward length, but you were just buying time till the hair was back to a length you could work with again.

Sam was laughing his ass off at Steve’s expense. “You didn’t…”

“How was I supposed to know? I told the lady that she was looking for something to soften the curls.”

“You softened them alright,” you muttered.

“I was told to stay away from perms. No one said there were more straighteners than a perm. She said it would keep some texture.”

“Cause it was a texturizer! Why would you even ask the beauty supply lady?”

“You asked at the beauty supply store?!” Sam was damn near in tears now. “My man, it went south the minute you walked through the door.”

“Okay, I get it you two. I messed up big time,” Steve said as he rubbed at his back.

“It’s your bed, right?” Sam noticed the rubbing.

“What’s that?”

“Your back. The bed, it’s too soft. When I was over there, I’d sleep on the ground, use rocks for pillows. Now I’m home, lying in my bed and it’s like…”

“Lying on a marshmallow. Feel like I’m gonna sink right to the floor. How long?”

“Two tours.”

“You must miss the good old days, huh?”

“Well, things aren’t so bad. Food’s a lot better, we used to boil everything. No polio’s good. Internet, so helpful in trying to catch up. And I’ve got a family, didn’t really think that’d be possible.” You and Steve fist-bumped.

“He’s got a list, in a little notebook and everything,” you chimed in.

“Marvin Gaye, 1972. Trouble Man soundtrack. Everything you missed jammed into one album.”

Steve felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out to see a text from Nat stating he had a mission and would be where you guys were in about two minutes.

“Alright, Sam, duty calls. Thanks for the run.” Steve shook his hand. “If that’s what you call running.”

“Oh, that’s how it is? Oh, that’s how it is,” Sam chuckled while Steve gave him a blinding smile.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Sam,” you said shaking his hand as well.

Sam called out as you two started to walk off. “Any time you want to stop by the VA, make me look awesome, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Yeah.”

Nat’s sleek car pulled up.

“Hey, fellas. Either one of you know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.”

“So funny.”

Steve rolled his eyes before opening the car door for you. He got into the passenger’s seat himself.

“Sarah, was it?” Sam called and you rolled down the window. “You know Howard?”

“The HBCU?”

“Yeah. All sorts of college girls that braid cheap, someone can help you out.”

“Thank you!” You patted Steve on the shoulder. “First thing we’re doing when you get back, old man.”

“Howard, you said?” Steve asked Sam.

“Yep,” Sam said before the car sped off.

“Hey, Sarah. Clint’s on a mission too but we’ve already got your flight to the airport, Laura’s waiting for you there,” Nat said.

“Cool.”

You looked over to see Nat already had your suitcase. If it was anyone else you would feel some type of way that she just easily breaks into your apartment at any moment. But it was Aunt Natasha. She was on your small list of people that you liked and trusted.

~~

“You know if you ask Kristen from Statistics, she’d say yes,” Nat said as they suit up to jump out the jet and land onto the rogue ship in the Indian Ocean.

“What’s that face?” Nat asked when Steve scrunched his nose before putting on the helmet.

“Sarah’s not a fan.”

“I thought she liked Kri… nope, it was Kiely. Damnit, I think she has a boyfriend though.”

“Oh, wow, isn’t that too bad.” Steve’s voice dripped with sarcasm before he jumped out the jet.

When he returned home from a mission, just like promised you were taken to Howard after a nice girl offered to do your hair. Steve walked with you through the campus until you met the girl outside the main library where she said she would be.

As a junior, Imani— as she introduced herself—  lived in off campus housing nearby. Imani assured Steve that the rest of her roommates were fine people, not that anyone would try anything stupid anyway in Steve’s mere prescence, and they wouldn’t go blabbing that they met Captain America’s kid. She already had all the supplies including hair after getting a picture of your hair.

“Yep, that’s a match,” Imani said, holding the hair up.

Steve’s phone rang after about half of your head was done. When he hung up he looked over from his spot on the spare couch.

“Um, how much longer do we think it’s going to take?”

Imani and her roommates started laughing.

“Mission?” you asked.

“Yeah, Babydoll. They’re asking me to go in two hours.”

“Captain Rogers, this is going to take more than two hours. Maybe four,” Imani informed him.

Steve’s eyes bugged. Four more hours? It had already been like three hours. Steve picked up the phone again and the college students acted like they weren’t eavesdropping on his conversation.

“Rumlow, how badly am I needed? Level… Can I get there tomorrow? Yeah, I’m kind of doing something. Maybe four hours… you can’t wait, fine fine. Give me a minute… Hey, Clint?… yeah, just for two days. I’ll send the location, we’re at Howard… NO! I’m not hitting on col— what is the matter with you… that’s not fun— stop laughing, okay bye. Pick her up in four hours, are you listening? Thank you.”

Steve got up and kissed the top of your head where the braids were already finished. He pulled out his wallet to give Imani the money and left extra for you all to order food much to the gratitude of all the college kids in the room.

“Alright, Babydoll. Duty calls, see you in two days.”

You held out a pinky. “Two days.”

“Two days or I’ll call.”

Clint came in four hours later just like he was supposed to.

“Hi, Uncle Clint.”

“Sarah! Hair looks great. Ready to go?”

You got your stuff, telling Imani they could keep the change from the leftover food money and left with Clint.

~~

You and Steve both faced your fears and decided to go to the Smithsonian where there was an exhibit on him. He felt you were old enough now so Steve dusted off his helmet and broke out the motorcycle. You enjoyed how open the motorcycle was.

The Smithsonian exhibit was kind of cool. Steve led you through the exhibit, adding little anecdotes where the histories stopped short. While you were staring at his old shield from the USO shows, Steve turned around to see the glass panel with writing on it about Bucky. You turned around to find your dad when you caught what he was staring at. Your breath hitched in your throat when you saw the picture.

“Sarah? Something wrong?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Steve dropped it. You had never said you didn’t want to talk about something. Even if what HYDRA related, you would just get quiet until he made you comfortable enough to talk. But this was new. Steve didn’t want to ruin the day so he let it go and you two walked to where they had a film set up. You liked watching the woman named Peggy. She seemed nice and you could see why your dad liked her.

Meanwhile, Steve had come for closure. He had seen Peggy many times now that she was older, having yet to bring you, and he had come to the acceptance that she had lived her good life. She had lived her life and it was time for Steve to move on and live his. But he wanted to see her as he remembered her one last time. Steve looked down from the screen to flip open his compass that now held a black and white picture of you. He closed it and took your hand.

“Come on, kid. Someone I want you to meet.”

You gently shook Peggy’s hand. Peggy smiled seeing you. She turned her head to address Steve who was sitting in the visitor’s chair right next to her bed.

“I lived my life and had only one regret that you didn’t get to live yours. I’m glad you’ve found something to live for.”

“Yeah, my whole world now.”

“You were always so dramatic,” Peggy joked, making them both laugh until Peggy erupted in a fit of coughs.

Steve stood up to pour her glass of water while you sprung up to call a nurse.

“Steve?” Peggy gasped. “You’re alive! You came back.”

“Yeah, Peggy.”

“It’s been so long, so so long.”

“I still owed you a dance.”

When the nurse arrived, Steve guided the two of you out. You patted his arm and smiled in reassurance. Steve looked down at you. He had a new best girl that he would do anything for and couldn’t really see it any other way now. Even if she didn’t always remember, Peggy said she was proud of Steve for moving on. And he was too— because honestly, he never thought he would.

~~

Steve and you entered the building where the VA was located. You could hear Sam’s group talking and waited against the doorframe so as not to draw much attention to yourselves. Steve seemed like he was intently listening to Sam’s word. You two waited quietly until the meeting was over and Sam had said his goodbyes to the last person.

“Look who it is, the running man,” Sam said. “And baby Rogers, nice braids.”

You waved to Sam and stood a little off to the side.

“Caught the last few minutes. It’s pretty intense,” Steve said as he leaned against the wall.

“Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret.”

“You lose someone?”

“My wingman, Riley. Standard rescue op until an RPG knocked Riley’s dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do, it’s like I was up there just to watch.”

“I’m sorry.”

“After that, I just had a hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know?”

“But you’re happy now, back in the world?”

“Number of people giving me orders is down to about zero so hell yeah. Are you thinking about getting out?”

“No,” Steve said before looking over at you. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.”

“Ultimate fighting? See, she agrees with me.” Sam gave you a high-five after you snorted at his comment.

“You can do whatever you want man. What makes you happy?”

Steve’s eyes looked over Sam before meeting his eyes. He sighed. “I don’t know.”

You hit his side.

You, of course, Sarah.

(Part 7)...

[fruitcoops]

okay so we all love dad dumo and he's an incredible parent but even dumo isn't perfect. Could we maybe have dumo snapping at logan (or sirius, if it strikes your fancy, but i love dumo+logan dynamics) and then apologizing for it like a parent actually f*cking should

Oof, yes. Combined with asks for Sirius and Logan bonding, as well as some pre-Cap and James. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for parental figure disappointment

The car rumbled. Dumo’s hands squeaked on the wheel as he flexed his fingers. Logan felt like he was going to throw up.

Can we turn around real quick? No, too vague. Can we go home so I can use the bathroom? No, he’ll say I can wait another ten minutes. I forgot my phone at home? No, he saw me put it in my pocket. Logan ran through every possible way of asking to go back to the Dumais house without giving away his dilemma; with each scenario, they grew further from where he needed to be.

“Hey, Dumo?” he began quietly, swallowing around his dry mouth. What was it his father always said? Honesty is the best policy. “We need to go back to your house for a moment.”

“We’re already running late,” Dumo said, not even sparing him a glance in the rearview mirror. The traffic around them was a mess. “If we go back, we’ll miss the first part of warmups.”

“I know, but it’s kind of important.”

“So is the game. If it’s your wallet, you don’t need it right—”

“I left my skates by the front door.”

Dead silence filled the car as Dumo slowed to a stop at the fourth red light. Logan’s heart sank and his stomach crawled into his throat. “What?”

“I left my skates by the front door,” he repeated, staring at his hands. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

“Tabernak, Logan!” Dumo snapped. He felt something inside him wither and die. “First the nap, then forgetting to wash your jersey, and now you left your fucking skates behind? What’s going on in your head? You are an adult now with responsibilities, and it’s your job to keep track of your shit.”

“I know,” Logan said quietly.

Dumo huffed. “Clearly you don’t! Do you just not care? Is that it?”

“I care.”

“This isn’t a college team, Logan.” Dumo’s accent grew harsh around his name. It had been a bad day for him—Adele came down with a nasty cold just after Celeste left to visit her parents for the weekend, and there was always an added pressure with home games. Logan knew that, and he knew he should have been paying better attention.

“I know.”

Dumo muttered a curse under his breath and pulled onto a side road, then swore again when his duffle bag slid in the passenger seat. Logan closed his eyes; there was no way they would make it all the way to the house and back to the rink in time for pre-game rituals. Damn it, Tremblay. What were you thinking?

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Dumo parked the car with a quiet “go”, and Logan hurried inside with a slight nod to the babysitter as he grabbed his skates before slinking back to the car with his head hung low.

“I’m really disappointed in you,” Dumo said when they reached the freeway again.

“I’m sorry.”

He received no response.

They won the game despite skipping all their superstitions, no thanks to Logan. He played like shit; Arthur barely gave him four shifts the whole night. Finn shot him a concerned look as he rinsed off and slipped back into his street clothes, but Logan didn’t have the energy to confront both his best friend and the upsetting feelings connected to the aforementioned best-friend-slash-secret-crush. If he tried, he’d certainly end up doing something stupid.

He packed his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed Dumo out to the car like a stray dog with his tail between his legs. “I really am—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dumo interrupted as they pulled out of the parking lot. Logan pressed his lips together. “Are you hungry?”

Starving. “Kinda.”

“I’ll heat up some leftover lasagna when we get back to the house. Will you pay the babysitter and make sure the kids are in bed?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you.”

Logan ground his teeth around the steady ache building in his chest—he hated disappointing people in general, but it was a whole different story with Dumo. He was his second father, the person Logan admired most on the team. He gave him a home and a substitute family to ease the homesickness, and was always there to cheer him on. And Logan let him down.

They went through their nightly routine silently, which was a sharp contrast to their usual banter. Marc and Louis refused to go to bed at first, nearly bringing Logan to tears in his frustration, but he eventually got them settled down and tucked in. By some miracle, both the girls were already asleep.

“I’m going to call Celeste,” Dumo finally said as Logan unloaded the dishwasher. He nodded without a word, not trusting his voice.

As soon as the dishwasher was full and running, Logan took his phone out and dialed the only person he wanted to hear from. It rang twice before connecting. “Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Hey, Cap, what’s up?”

“Not much.” Sirius sounded confused, and more than a little tired. “Ça va?”

Logan’s eyes burned. “Not bad. Do you have a minute?”

There was a rustling noise from the other end, followed by the clink of keys. “You’re at Dumo’s, right?”

“Oui.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks,” he managed around his tight throat. “See you soon.”

Hushed voices came from the living room and Logan padded down the hall, knocking gently on the doorframe. Dumo looked up and furrowed his brow. “Un moment, mon amour. Are you alright?”

“Sirius is coming by in ten. We’re going to hang out for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Tell him I say hello.” Without another word, Dumo uncovered the base of his phone and returned to his conversation. Logan nodded and headed back out into the hall, swallowing down the tears forming behind his eyes.

Ten minutes turned out to be seven minutes—Logan was simultaneously flattered and concerned—and a soft knock startled him out of his thoughts. Sirius already looked worried when the front door swung open. “What happened? Is everyone okay? Did something happen to Celeste?”

“She’s fine. Dumo says hi.” And he’s horribly disappointed in me. Logan took several deep breaths through his nose to control the tremor in his voice and Sirius gave him a worried once-over. “Can we drive around for a bit?”

“Of course.”

For all of his bluster and general brooding vibe, Sirius continued to be the king of empathy and (in Logan’s opinion) a secret mind-reader. The second his arm draped across Logan’s shoulders and held him close as they walked down the sidewalk, he felt some of the pressure in his chest release. “Sorry about the late call,” he sniffled. It was a cold night—the snot threatening to drip from his nose was frigid already. “I just—I needed to get out for a minute.”

“À tout moment.” Any time. Logan didn’t feel deserving of that kindness after the mess he had been on the ice. The heaters kicked on as soon as Sirius started the car and Logan closed his eyes, leaning back into the warm seat. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“It’s so stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Logan took a moment to breathe before shaking his head. “I forgot my skates. We were already running late, and I forgot my fucking skates at the house.”

Sirius hummed, but said nothing.

“It’s—Dumo has been having such a horrible day.” Tears clogged his throat again. “And I took a nap earlier because I stayed up late last night like an idiot, and Adele’s sick so he had all the kids and no help while he was trying to get ready, and then I overslept so it was already going to be rushed and forgot to clean my jersey and then—and then I forgot my skates. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.” Logan wanted to kick him for being so infuriatingly patient. Sirius glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “That’s not why you’re upset, though.”

“He’s—” Logan broke off and swiped the first tear away with his sweatshirt cuff. “He said he was disappointed in me.”

“Ah.”

“It’s such a stupid thing to be upset about.”

Sirius sighed through his nose and pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour Taco Bell, then turned off the car and faced Logan with one eyebrow raised. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Belittling yourself.”

“Okay, Heather,” Logan snorted. Sirius reached over and flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!”

“You forgot your skates. Big deal. We’ve all been there.”

Logan shot him a glare. “You’ve never forgotten your skates.”

“Yes, I have. My very first game with the Lions, actually. Except I didn’t realize it until we were already at the rink.”

“Did Dumo drive you back?”

“The whole damn way. He was mad as hell, but he did it.” Sirius’ face softened, and he poked Logan gently on the thigh. “Stop kicking yourself for this one. It sounds like it was a bad day for you both.”

“I still feel like shit.”

Sirius shrugged. “I bet. Disappointing Dumo is the worst feeling ever.”

“He wouldn’t even let me apologize.”

“He will.”

They sat in silence for a full minute as Logan tried to find the right words. “How did you deal with it? Letting people down. It feels like I’m drowning, sometimes.”

“Really, really poorly,” Sirius half-laughed, crossing his ankle over his knee. “It wasn’t until I was named captain that I started accepting that people weren’t lying when they forgave me for fucking up.”

“Why?”

“Believe it or not, the people I was around as a kid didn’t make a habit of apologizing to me when they did something wrong.”

Logan looked up from the faded letters on his sweatshirt sleeve and sniffled. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”

“Pas de problem. I figured you could use some company outside the house.”

“You’re the best.”

“I try.”

“You succeed.” You’re like a brother to me, actually. “Is this what James did for you?”

“No,” Sirius laughed. Affection took over his face, bright even in the dim light from the streetlamps. “No, he snuck me onto the roof of the rink with massive amounts of junk food and stayed with me until the imposter syndrome faded. It was fantastic, but we nearly got hypothermia several times in the winter. This is much more comfortable.”

“Thanks for helping me keep all my fingers and toes,” Logan said wryly. He lapsed back into silence and folded his forearms on the dashboard, sighing at the pleasant stretch of his back. “I know I have to go back eventually, but I’m scared.”

“Honestly, Logan, I bet he’s already forgiven you. He knows it was an accident.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” The words came out as little more than a whisper. Sirius’ hand rested hesitantly between his shoulder blades until Logan leaned back into it, then began rubbing gentle circles.

“He does,” Sirius said softly. “And he loves you so much.”

Logan sniffed back more tears. “Really?”

“Ouais. You’ve been living with him for nine months now, and he’s so proud of how far you’ve come.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he told me. Last week, after your hat trick. People fuck up, Logan, but that doesn’t mean they’re unforgivable. You don’t need to flay yourself for one bad day.”

Logan shut his eyes with a slow exhale and buried his face in his forearms. “I think I’m ready to go back now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“D’accord. Buckle your seatbelt.”

He straightened up and stretched, wincing at the crack of his back. Sirius drove out of the parking lot and hummed under his breath to the radio, but Logan didn’t miss the careful glances out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he finally said. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Sirius said casually, though he looked like he was holding something back. Logan didn’t press; Sirius would talk in his own time if he wanted to. He opened his mouth, paused, then sighed. “But I do worry about you.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Thank you, Captain Black, for the most media answer of all time. “You really don’t have to.”

Sirius parked the car and leaned his head back against the seat. “You’re my friend, and I care about you, so I worry.”

Logan blinked at him. “You care about me?”

“Obviously,” Sirius muttered. Even in the darkness of the street, his cheeks were pink. “Now go on, you've got someone waiting for you.”

“I care about you, too.”

“Out of my car, Tremblay.” Despite his words, a smile quirked at the corner of Sirius’ mouth. Logan socked him lightly on the arm and opened the door, shivering in the night air as it bit through his hoodie.

“Drive safe, Cap.”

“I will.”

The walk to the front door felt less like a trip to the gallows and more like coming home; Logan felt his muscles relax, and saw the curtains shift as someone moved away from the window. Dumo opened the door before he could even knock.

“I’m sorry,” they said in unison. Logan raised his eyebrows and Dumo opened the door the rest of the way, ushering him inside.

The moment the door closed behind him, Dumo wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier, Logan. You made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have come down hard on you.”

“I’m sorry I made us late,” Logan said into his soft shirt. “And for not helping earlier. It won’t happen again.”

“All is forgiven.” Dumo patted him on the back of the shoulder and held him at arm’s length with a sad smile. “I should have kept a better handle on my temper. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.”

Logan bit back the urge to say it’s okay or I deserved it and instead pulled him in for another hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I didn’t realize how much you’ve helped me until today.”

Dumo made a quiet sound and held him tighter. “It’s a gift to have you here.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of emotion rolled in his heart. “There is nowhere I would rather be,” he whispered. They stayed like that for a long moment, swaying slightly, before Dumo stepped back.

“Get some rest. We have early practice tomorrow.” He mussed Logan’s hair and gave him a nudge toward the stairs. “Bonne nuit, mon fils.”

Mon fils. Logan’s breath caught for a second and he smiled. “Bonne nuit.”

[tobesolonely]

kindergarten teachers

summary: teacher!harry and coworker y/n have a hard time coming to terms with their feelings for each other

a/n: ahhh she’s finally done! i’ve been working on this fic for sooo long and i hope u all like it! big thanks to @queencharry​ for helping me when i got stuck and beta reading, and @behindthatbabyface​ for beta reading as well and giving me feedback!! i appreciate u both <3 enjoy ~11.3k words of some mutual pining and teacher!h interacting with lil kindergarteners 🥺also i am sorry if theres any major grammar mistakes (as always) or crazy typos, i always miss some things when i go back and proofread that im sure i’ll catch later! thank u

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol 

talk to me about harry and y/n! let me know your thoughts!!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

From the time you were very young, you knew you wanted to be a teacher. One of your earliest childhood memories was going to school dressed up as one for career day. Your usually untamed hair was pulled back into a sleek bun (courtesy of your mother), and you donned a funky baby-pink sweater. For bottoms, you wore the closest thing to a pencil skirt you had in your five-year-old wardrobe. When you look back on the photographs your mother took of you that day, you did not resemble a teacher in any way. You were sure if you had not done your Career Day presentation in front of the whole class, no one would have even known who you were dressed up as.

Once you moved onto college and declared Education as a major, that was when people really started to let you hear their opinions on the career path you wanted to pursue. It seemed like whenever you went home for a holiday, relatives were always in your ear saying, “You know teachers don’t make a lot of money, right? Have you ever considered something in the sciences?”. You always responded, “I know, but what would the world do without teachers?”.

Eventually, you finished your undergraduate career, successfully completed student teaching with the highest praise from your superiors and colleagues, obtained your teaching credentials, and even went back to school to get your Master’s degree. So, it was much to everyone’s surprise when you settled on being a Kindergarten teacher. People assumed that because you completed so much schooling, you wanted to be a university professor. However, the thought never even crossed your mind. You always thought Kindergarten teachers were the most impressionable people out there and knew you wanted to be one.

To you, there was no greater responsibility than that of a Kindergarten teacher. It was your responsibility to teach your students reading, writing, art, and music at the most basic level. You showed them how to play with others, how to be kind, and give them the tools necessary to succeed once they leave your classroom. You were the first teacher your students ever had, so you needed to make them fall in love with school instead of hate it, considering they’d have to stick to it until they were at least eighteen. 

You’ve been a credentialed Kindergarten teacher for the last three years, and you’ve loved every moment of it. You were one of the younger teachers at school, but you never felt left out. Your colleagues were amazing people who often shared tips and tricks they wish they knew when they first started teaching.

Now, you were groggily unlocking the door to your classroom, feeling those first-day-of-school jitters you always felt. You knew kindergarteners weren’t there to harshly critique you. Still, you wanted them to go home and tell their parents about how excited they were to have you as a teacher, not run home in tears. That never happened, of course, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You drop your keys and mutter a quiet, “Shit!” setting your travel mug filled with coffee on the ground and readjust the box of donuts you had for your kids on your hip. As you reach for your keys, you hear a deep voice ask if you need help. You quickly turn around, eyes wide from being startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” you place your free hand over your chest. “But yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m struggling to get my door open.” The man nods, his own keys he wore around his neck jangling as he retrieves first your keys, then your coffee mug.

“I’m Harry– Mr. Styles, if you want,” he holds your keys out for you to take, your coffee mug still in his large hands. “Uh, I’m the new Kindergarten teacher.” You give him a confused look and trade the box of donuts in your arms for your keys, opening the door. “The last one, Mrs. Brown, I think it was, I guess she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to retire.” You get your door open and walk inside your classroom, turning on the lights. It was a little stuffy, considering you hadn’t been there to open any windows in about a month.

“Oh, that’s right! Welcome,” you give him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N– Miss Y/L/N if you want.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks. “We’re gonna be working together then, it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mrs. Brown, but it’ll be nice to collaborate with someone closer to my age, you know?” Harry nods, and you realize he still had your coffee mug and box of donuts in his hands. “You can just set that on my desk, thanks for helping out. Would you like a donut?”

“Um, I- it’s okay,” he stammers, setting the items down. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ll probably crash if I have a donut first thing in the mornin’.” You smile at him and move to open all your windows and the back door, wanting the stuffy classroom to air out a bit before the children got here. 

“I totally get that,” you giggle, walking back over to your desk. “Are you excited about the first day? I always get a little nervous. I also talk a lot when I’m nervous, I’m sure you caught onto that.” 

For the first time that morning, Harry laughs. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. ’ve never taught in the States before, so this is a bit new to me.” He’s playing with the keys hanging from his lanyard. 

“I noticed you had an accent, but I didn’t know if it was weird to ask about it. What brings you to California?” You open the box of donuts and take one out, wanting to eat it before it gets cold, and the glaze hardens.

“Uh, I went to University here, but when I graduated, I decided to go back home and teach for a couple of years. I really missed being here though and wanted to come back, so I got my credentials, and uh, here I am,” he tells you with a grin, and you notice he has deep dimples. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” you tell him earnestly. “The kids are just gonna love your accent, too!” you joke and Harry laughs for the second time that day. 

“If all else fails, ’m hopin’ to charm everyone over with my accent,” he stares at you for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I better finish getting situated. It’s fifteen til, and I reckon the children will be arriving soon, yeah?” He asks. You nod. 

“Best to be waiting at parent drop-off too, there are always a few parents that are just as nervous as their babies, if not more, and could use a quick pep talk.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know. I was thinking about standing out there anyway, just to make a good first impression.” You take another bite of your donut, giving him a thumbs up. 

“You’ve got this, Harry. I know you’re not completely clueless since you’ve taught before, but I know the first day can be a little intimidating. You know where I am if you need anything.” He gives you a grateful smile, quietly thanking you before turning to walk out the door. You’re left thinking about your new coworker, only being pulled from your thoughts of him when the first bell rings.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Miss Y/L/N. Are you all excited to get this school year started?” A chorus of high-pitched yeses fills the room, and you smile warmly at your class. “I’m so excited that you’re all here! I have a little surprise for each of you!” You grab the box of donuts and walk back to the rug in the center of the room that the children usually sat on for storytime. Little gasps fill your ears, and they all say, “Donuts!” and “Yummy!”. You smile at the kids again, already feeling overwhelmed with how adorable they were. 

“We all get a donut?” one little girl asks, her eyes wide. You nod at her.

“Of course! Everyone will get a donut, sweetie.” You move to get the plastic food gloves you kept so you can safely hand out a donut to everyone. “Okay guys, I’m going to pass a stack of napkins around the room. Take one and pass the stack to the person sitting next to you. Does that make sense?” All the students nod their heads in confirmation, so you grab a stack and hand them to the child sitting closest to you. “Once the last person has their napkin, let me know, and then it’ll be donut time!” You say this over-enthusiastically, and the children squirm in their seats in excitement.

As you go around handing out donuts to each of your students, you learn their names and ask them to tell you one fun fact about them. Most children say things like, “I have a brother/sister!” or “I can run really fast!”, and you find it absolutely adorable. One thing you loved the most about teaching five-year-olds was their ability to think everything was cool. It was comforting to know that no matter what you did, they’d find you cool, and your first-day jitters quickly dissipated. As the children eat their donuts, you read them a story, putting on different voices for all the various characters. You show them how to raise their hand when they have something they’d like to share and remind them to use their “listening ears” when you or one of their classmates are speaking.

When it’s time for recess, you show them how to line up quietly at the door, and assign a line leader and a hall monitor. You remind the children that they will all get a turn at these tasks eventually because it’ll switch every week, and not to worry. As you’re walking down the hall backward (one of your teachers walks that you’d finally perfected), you hear Harry’s voice.

“Okay Room Ten, we’re gonna go out to the playground now, where you all will get to play every recess and lunch. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” He asks them, and you hear little voices chattering out to him in excitement. You can’t help but peek into his classroom as you walked by, as his door was open. He didn’t see you because he was busy organizing his class into a straight line, so you keep going. Your class, who, much to your surprise, was walking very quietly, got loud once they saw the Kindergarten play area had a slide and monkey bars.

“We get to play on this?” one of your students, Destiny, questions. 

“Yup! This is a pretty cool play area, isn’t it?” They nod and stare at you, waiting for direction. “Oh, you can all go play and run around, get some of that energy out. When the bell rings, though, I want you to listen to the yard teachers because they’re gonna help get you all lined back up so we can go back inside. Deal?” The children give you nods and thumbs up, and you grin at them, telling them to have fun and be nice to one another. As you’re turning to go to the teacher’s lounge to refill your mug of coffee, you see Harry walking down the hallway with his class, and decide to wait for him. He gives his class the same spiel you gave yours and tells them to “Treat each other with kindness” before noticing you waiting for him.

“Hey,” he gives you a grin, looking far more relaxed than he did when you saw him earlier that morning. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s great,” you reply, leading him in the direction of the teacher’s lounge. “They’re all adorable.”

“Yeah, don’t know what I was so nervous fo’. They’re great. Also, you’re right,” Harry has an amused look on his face. “The first thirty minutes of ’em bein’ there was just them askin’ me to say things because they think I sound funny.” 

“I told you!” you exclaim, laughing at him. “A British accent is definitely not something we hear every day, not here at least.”

“I figured,” he replies, and silence falls between you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

You stop in front of a blue door and sift through the keys on your lanyard, finally finding the one you were looking for. “Teacher’s lounge. Have you had the chance to check it out yet?” He shakes his head, and you pull open the door after having unlocked it. “After you.” He shakes his head and steps back, signaling you go ahead of him. You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he gives you a defensive look.

“What? ‘M a gentleman. Ladies first,” he insists, holding the door open. You walk inside the room, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. There aren’t many teachers in the lounge. You figure they all must be in their classrooms, trying to do some last-minute organization and lesson planning amidst the first day of school chaos. However, a few colleagues that you’re rather fond of are in the room, so you take it upon yourself to introduce them to Harry.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a relaxing morning!” They chuckle lightly at your sarcasm. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Harry Styles. He’s the new Kindergarten teacher that took Mrs. Brown’s place.” A look of realization washes over all three teachers’ faces, and they warmly greet him. Harry goes around, shaking each of their hands, voice dripping with charm.

“Lovely to meet you all. Looking forward to collaborating,” he tells them quietly. They begin engaging in polite conversation, so you leave Harry’s side, walking over to the coffee station to get what you came for before recess was over. He joins you shortly after, grabbing a disposable cup. “They were a nice bunch.” He mutters, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup. You hum in agreement.

“Everyone here is nice. The lounge is usually much more crowded than this. Everyone else must be in their rooms,” you flick your wrist up to check the time. “We got some time to sit down and breathe for a bit if you’d like? Unless you wanted to get back to your room.”

“‘M in no rush, trust me,” he tells you, flashing you a small smile. “Let’s take a seat.” Harry walks over to an unoccupied couch and sits down slowly, taking care not to spill his coffee. 

“You didn’t want a lid?” you question when you see him struggling. He shrugs.

“Not necessary. Jus’ some extra plastic,” you hum and look down at your lap. You were quickly learning that Harry was not a big talker, and he liked to get his point across in as few words as possible. Him being a Kindergarten teacher contradicted heavily with his rather bashful demeanor, but that just made him all the more endearing to you.

“Do you live nearby, or is your commute long?” you ask him after a few moments of silence. As soon as you ask the question, you internally cringe, feeling like it was too invasive. If Harry thought the question was weird, he doesn’t show it.

“I live in town. I actually walked here today, believe it or not,” he tells you with a chuckle. “Was such a beautiful morning that I figured I should.” Every time you think Harry can’t possibly get any more captivating, he does, and you find yourself biting back a smile.

“How long is your walk?” You cross your legs and then uncross them, a nervous habit that you had. Harry takes a sip of coffee, mulling your question over.

“I’d say it took me about twenty minutes. I was walkin’ at a pretty leisurely pace, though,” Harry shrugs. “How about you? Do you live nearby?”

“I also live in town, but I’m way too lazy to walk, so props to you,” you smile. “The best thing about living around here is seeing your kids out in public. It’s the cutest thing.” Harry smiles, not saying anything else. A silence falls over the two of you again but instead of feeling the need to fill it, you just sit beside him, drinking your coffee. Your mind wanders off to what you were going to do for the rest of the school day, if you had enough groceries in your apartment for dinner or if you should go grocery shopping after work, and if you remembered to pay your bills on time. The bell rings to signify the end of recess, and you jump slightly.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asks, standing up and walking back over to the coffee station. “Think’m gonna get a bit more.” You go to stand by the door, waiting for him to pour another cup of coffee. He quickly rejoins you, and the coffee sloshes a bit, some getting on his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hope those lil’ buggers got some of their energy out.”

“Right! Mine was even more hyper than they probably would’ve been ’cause I gave them those donuts this morning,” you laugh. “So, for my sake, I hope so too.” When you and Harry arrive back at the Kindergarten play area, your classes are already lined up quietly awaiting instruction, thanks to the yard teachers. You and Harry both thank them and move to stand in front of your kids. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” one of your children calls out from the back of the line. “Can we get more donuts when we go back inside?” You see Harry smile out of the corner of your eye as he’s giving instruction to his class.

“There are no more donuts, you guys ate them all! I have something even cooler than donuts planned for us, though, okay? Now, remember what I told you all about walking quietly, right? Mr. Line Leader, how does your line look? Do you think we’re all set to go back inside?” The child you appointed line leader turns around to look at everyone, occasionally shushing some people. After a few moments, he turns back to you, giving you a thumbs up. 

Harry moves to stand beside you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Wanna eat lunch together and do some planning? I feel like it would be a good idea for us to be teachin’ the same things, more or less.” Your body feels warm all over, and you just look at him and nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Harry smiles and places a hand on your shoulder. At a normal volume, he says, “See you then, Miss Y/L/N.” 

Upon entering Harry’s room, you’re immediately met with the scent of vanilla and the loud hum of the air conditioning. It was bright, adorably decorated, and surprisingly decluttered. It was the polar opposite of your room, and you found it very welcoming and comforting. “Nice set-up you’ve got going on in here,” you tell him. He jumps in his seat at his desk, not having heard you come in.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles, face going red. “You scared me. Thanks, though. My sister helped me decorate, I don’t really have an eye for this type of stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. 

“Well, if you ever need any help decorating for back to school and your sister isn’t around, I’d be more than happy to help.” Harry smiles and suddenly gets up from his chair, offering it to you.

“Please, take my seat. I’ll just sit in one of the kids’ chairs,” he rolls it towards you, and you shake your head, about to object, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Their chairs aren’t that bad.” You take the seat Harry was just in, mumbling a quiet thank you. He hums and pulls a tiny chair up beside you, legs scraping loudly across the floor. When he sits down in it, you can’t but burst out laughing.

“Harry, that chair is so tiny! Are you sure you don’t want me to sit there instead? You look so uncomfortable,” you tell him in between laughs. “This is your classroom, after all, I’m just a guest.” Harry shakes his head, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. ‘M perfectly comfortable in this lil’ miniature chair,” he looks at the lunch bag you sat on his desk. “What’s for lunch?” You reach for your sack and unzip it, pulling out a pre-packaged salad from Trader Joe’s.

“I’m very lazy when it comes to packing my lunches,” you admit sheepishly, pulling out a fork. “How about you? Did you eat already?”

“Oh yeah, I had a green smoothie. Not a big lunch guy,” he replies calmly. “Wanna get started with planning? I think we only have about thirty minutes left.” He looks down at his watch to confirm the time. Harry opens his planner, and you see pages filled with his neat, blocky scrawl. He jumps right into talking about the ideas he had in mind, excitement filling his voice that you haven’t yet heard. 

The passion and enthusiasm he has for teaching are evident through the way he tells you about the activities he has planned, new materials and teaching methods he wants to try implementing, and things he’s tried before that didn’t work out the way he wanted them to. He asks you for your advice and listens intently when you speak, jotting down notes.

You find yourself having to mentally remind yourself not to stare at him. He was a handsome man– there was no denying that. He had curly brown hair, soft and wild-looking, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, and arms covered in tattoos. You also noticed he had the tiniest cross on his left hand. You wanted to ask him about it, but you figured that was a conversation for another time. 

“Y/N? Did you hear what I just said,” Harry asks, giving you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I think you just zoned out for a couple minutes or somethin’.” You nod quickly, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about something I have to do later. What did you just say?” You play off how you were just wholly drooling over your new coworker, feeling scrutinized under his piercing gaze.

“Jus’ got an email from the principal. Said we have a faculty meetin’ after school at three. Wanna go together?” He asks. You know Harry’s asking you to accompany him primarily because you’re the only person he really knows so far. However, it still makes you feel warm and special. “He said we’re gonna go over some planning for the Fall Festival. What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just the back-to-school festival. It’s adorable,” you explain. “It’s like a mini carnival that we have right here on the playground. Every year they have teachers host booths. It’s a great way to get to meet your kids’ parents and bond with the other faculty.” Harry nods, standing up from the tiny chair right as the bell signifying the end of lunch rings.

“That sounds lovely,” he chirps, smiling down at you. “We’re gonna have the best booth out of everyone Y/N, trust me.” He jokes, the corner of his eyes crinkling. This was the most Harry had talked since you met him that morning and you were enjoying witnessing him open up to you more and more with each conversation shared.

“It is,” you stand up as well, gathering your trash and empty lunch pail. “Thanks for having me, Harry. Next time we can meet in my room. I wouldn’t mind making this a daily thing.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you physically wince, figuring Harry had to think you were obsessed with him at this point. He looks down, the corners of his mouth upturned when he makes eye contact with you again.

“I’d like that, Y/N. I’ll actually start bringin’ a proper lunch, so you’re not the only one eating,” you smile. “I’ll meet you in your room after school?” You nod in confirmation, walking out the door in front of him. 

“See ya later.”

“Did everyone have a good day today?” You ask your class, walking backward to the dismissal gate. You’re met with a chorus of cheerful sounding ‘yeses,’ and you place your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “That makes me so happy, everyone! You’re all incredible little people, and I think we’re gonna have a fantastic year. What do you guys think?” The children chatter excitedly, glad to have made it through their first day of school and see their parents on the other side of the gate eagerly awaiting them, cell phones snapping pictures. 

Harry’s already at the gate, waiting for the bell to ring so he can dismiss his class. He’s walking down the line asking each of the children if they see who they’re supposed to go home with, crouching down to their height so they can point them out to him. Some children in his class look a little upset because they don’t see their parents yet. Harry quickly consoles them, telling them they can all play a fun game together while they wait for their ‘Mummies and Daddies.’

You do the same with your kids, and by the time the bell rings and you finish dismissing the ones who saw someone there to pick them up, there was one child from your class who was still waiting and two from Harry’s. He walks over to you, one of their tiny hands in each of his. The boy looks unbothered, but the girl was beginning to cry.

“Hey, Ava, should we ask Miss Y/L/N and her friend if they want to play iSpy with us? The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?” He looks down at her, and she nods, looking down. You figure she’s one of his more shy students he was telling you about earlier.

“Hi, sweetie! I’m Miss Y/L/N, are you waiting for your mom or dad?” She nods, biting her lip. You turn and gesture to your one student who was waiting as well. “Well, so is she! Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

“I’m Matthew,” the little boy holding Harry’s other hand informs you, shifting from foot to foot. You give him a big smile.

“Hello, Matthew! I love your Spiderman shirt; he’s just the coolest. Jade, do you want to introduce yourself to Mr. Styles, Ava, and Matthew? Remember when we learned about introductions today in class? When you got to introduce yourself to all your classmates?”

Jade nods, a big, toothy grin on her face. “Hi! My name is Jade, and I am five-years-old but my birthday is September 19th, so I’m actually almost six-years-old,” she tells them matter-of-factly. “It’s very nice to meet you!” She adds, remembering the script you gave them earlier. Harry looks down at her, an impressed look on his face.

“Well, it is very lovely to meet you too, Jade! Do we all know how to play iSpy?” Jade and Matthew shout in excitement, but Ava just grips tighter onto Harry’s hand. He looks down at her again. “Do y’ want Miss Y/L/N and I to show you how to play, Ava?” His voice is very quiet, slow, and soothing. She nods, letting go of his hand.

“Well Ava,” you say, looking around for something to start the game out with. “I would say, “I spy with my little eye something green. Then you, Mr. Styles, Matthew, and Jade, would have to look around and name out everything that’s green. If you name something and it’s not it, then I will tell you nope, and you can try again, but if you figure it out, then you’re the winner! Does that make sense?”

She nods, and you see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Can I go first?” She asks quietly. You tell her, yes, and she looks around quickly, trying to find something to say. “I spy with my little eye something blue!” She has a triumphant smile on her face, and even though you immediately know she’s talking about the sky and you’re sure Harry does too, you both decide to take a step back and let the children take the game into their own hands.

“Y’know, that lil’ introduction Jade gave was really somethin’. I didn’t even think about teachin’ my kids that. Think I’ll try that out tomorrow,” Harry whispers, craning his neck slightly to be at your ear. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. 

“Yeah, I feel like that’s always a good first day of school activity for them to do. A lot of them have never really been exposed to people outside of their immediate family, so they’re not too sure how to talk to others.” Harry hums, standing back up straight.

“Mr. Styles,” Matthew calls, running over to Harry. “My mommy is here. Can I go now?” Harry nods, telling Matthew to wait for him so he can say hi to his mother. You watch as he walks away, overhearing as he tells the boy’s mother what a great job he did today and how he’s so excited to go through this school year with him in his class. Ten minutes later, Jade and Ava are gone as well, and Harry locks the dismissal gate. 

“I forgot how exhausting the first day could be,” he tells you, letting out a quiet sigh. “Ready to go to that meeting, though? It’s just about three.” You check your watch and see the time read at 2:57 PM.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag, and we can head over there. I’m really hoping this won’t take too long; I was planning on going grocery shopping after this,” you walk down the hall towards your classroom and feel Harry’s gaze on you.

“Where do you like to go grocery shopping?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “I need to pick up some groceries this week, too. ’ve been eatin’ takeout for the past week, and I’m starting to feel like shit.” You laugh, unlocking your door. Harry stands outside, holding it open while you grab your purse and lunch bag.

“Honestly, I don’t have a preference. I switch it up a lot,” you shrug, making sure all the windows are closed before walking out. “Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry scratches the back of his head. “No? Maybe you could text me a list of all your favorite stores, though. Jus’ so I won’t forget.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring how fast your heart was beating. “Are you asking for my number, Mr. Styles?”

“I guess I am,” he replies nonchalantly. “We’re gonna be workin’ together a lot. Might as well have your number– if that’s okay, I mean.” He looks down at you.

“Yeah, remind me after the meeting,” you tell him, trying your hardest to play it cool. “Don’t let me forget.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“So Y/N and Harry, you two will be in charge of the pumpkin decorating booth? Is that right?” The principal looks down at his notes and then shifts his gaze between the both of you. You both nod.

“Yeah, I’m excited! I think it’ll be a lot of fun,” you reply excitedly. “We can go to the craft store and get a bunch of paints, but where do you think the best place to get the pumpkins would be?” You pull out your planner, ready to jot down any suggestions.

“You two could try going to a pumpkin patch? They’re starting to pop-up around town,” one teacher suggests. “I’m sure if you purchased a bunch and told them it was for a school event, we could get some kind of deal.” The rest of the faculty buzzes in agreement.

“Y/N and Harry, could you get to a pumpkin patch sometimes this week and see if they can give us an estimate of how much it would cost? Then I could let the PTA know.” You and Harry confirm that it will be possible to do sometime this week, and the meeting continues on.

By the time you’re finally free to leave the meeting, it’s already growing dark outside. Harry’s hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s looking down at his feet. “So–”

“Do you want–”

You both stop, laughing awkwardly. “You go first.” you tighten the grip on your purse.

“Uh, I was jus’ gonna ask if I could get your number now. Yanno, so we can plan when we’re gonna go get all the stuff for our booth? And you still gotta tell me what your favorite grocery stores are,” he has a playful look in his eyes. For the thousandth time that day, your hands become clammy. There was just something about every interaction you had with him that made you so nervous. 

“Oh yeah,” you answer coolly, digging in your purse for your phone. “Just text your number, so I have it.” You hand him his phone, and he stops dead in his tracks, a look of concentration on his face. 

“I can’t walk and be on the phone at the same time,” he mutters when he looks back up and realizes you were watching him the whole time. “I don’t know how people do it.” He hands you back your phone. “What were y’ gonna ask me?”

“I was just um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to give you a ride home? I mean, since you walked to work today and it’ll be dark soon,” talking to Harry made you feel like a nervous school girl interacting with her first crush, and you hated that feeling.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“It’s no bother, really,” you cut him off, and you realize you sound a little eager, but at that point, you didn’t even care. “I’m sure we don’t live too far from each other.” Harry looks slightly unsure but nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“If you’re sure, Y/N. I appreciate it, I owe you one,” he’s following behind you to the teacher parking lot. You silently pray your car isn’t messy inside like it usually is as you approach it. You decide to pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, telling yourself if the passenger side was messy, you’d just quickly throw everything in the back. “Heyyyy, why’re you walkin’ so fast? Are you sure you’ve got the time to take me home?” He takes a few big strides and quickly catches up with your hurried, tiny ones.

“Yeah, of course, I have time,” you respond, unlocking your car as you approach it. “If it’s messy, then just ignore it.” you preface, honestly not remembering the state in which you left your car this morning when you walked into work.

“Don’t worry about it. You should see mine,” Harry jokes, and it immediately puts you at ease. As you’re about to open your door, Harry quickly rushes to your side, opening it himself. “Let me.” 

His hand rests over yours, and you quickly pull it away, your body heating up. “Harry, I’m already right here. I can open my own car door.” 

“I know you can. But I’m a gentle—“ 

“You’re a gentleman, I know,” you playfully roll your eyes and take a step back, allowing Harry to open your car door all the way. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered and honestly a little bit turned on. He flashes you a smile as you situate yourself behind the wheel of the car and makes sure you’re all the way in before slamming it shut. You see him lightly jog around to the passenger side, and soon enough, he’s beside you, your car immediately starting to smell like his cologne. 

“What music do you like to listen to?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“You ask me a lot of random questions, Harry,” you reply, looking behind you as you slowly back out. 

“Is it a crime to wanna get to know my new coworker?” you can hear a smile in his voice. “C’mon. What’s your favorite music to listen to?” 

You shrug, looking both ways before exiting the parking lot. “Where do you live?” 

“I don’t know my address yet. Just take a left at this light coming up. Favorite music?” Out of the corner of his eye, you see him scrolling through his music library. 

“You don’t know your address yet?” 

“No. I’ll play something random,” he says, tapping his hand on his knee. “You can take a right at that stop sign up there.” You put on your blinker and glance over your shoulder before switching lanes. Harry quickly pairs his phone with your Bluetooth, and a song you’re unfamiliar with blares through your speakers. Neither one of you says anything else, only speaking to each other when he’s giving you directions to his house, and you’re confirming what he said.

After two more songs, Harry says, “S’right up here.” He’s led you to a beautiful apartment complex— one you were looking at when you were moving out of your parent’s home but just couldn’t afford as a new graduate. You expertly parallel park and then turn the car off, a silence falling between the two of you.

“This is a nice complex,” you tell him after a moment. “Really close to school. I see why you opted to walk to work today.” 

“Mhm,” he hums. His seatbelt is still fastened. “I understand if you’re busy, but did you wanna come in?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean— it’s just— remember the activity you taught your kids today? About introductions? Jus’ wanted to know if you could walk me through it, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Well yeah, I can hang out for a bit.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach in the backseat for your purse that you threw haphazardly over your shoulder earlier. 

“Will your boyfriend be okay with you coming in, though?” He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You’re slightly taken aback and oddly flattered that he thought you were in a relationship.

“I dunno,” his face grows red. “You got all weird when I opened doors for ya. Figured you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Cool.” More silence falls, this time an awkward one.

“Should we go inside now?” you unlock the doors, quickly getting out of the car. Harry follows behind you and waits for you to walk onto the sidewalk before going up the walkway.

“How close do you live to me?” Harry asks, punching in his gate code. He pulls the gate open and gestures for you to go ahead of him. You decide not to comment on it this time.

“A couple blocks away. I could probably walk over here if I was in the mood to,” Harry shuts the gate behind you and walks over to the first set of stairs, taking them two at a time. “I was interested in this complex when I was moving out of my parents’ but I settled on something else.” He hums, stopping in front of the first door at the top of the stairs. There’s a brown ‘Welcome!’ mat outside his door, along with a few potted plants.

“Here we are,” he looks over his shoulder as if he’s checking if you’re still there. “Excuse the boxes. ‘M not done unpacking yet.” He pushes open the door and steps in, quickly turning on the light. You’re met with the same sweet scent of vanilla that’s in his classroom. Considering he was in the process of unpacking, his apartment was reasonably tidy.

“It looks good in here,” your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You were in your coworker’s house that you just met that day, and you could already feel yourself developing a crush on him. There was obviously no way you’d let this relationship progress past anything strictly professional, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to admire his beauty.

“Thanks,” he gives you a smile, relief washing over his face. “You can set your bag down if you want. Take a seat, make yourself at home.” He leaves the room, and you hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Wine? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you reply. You set your purse down on his coffee table and sit on the edge of his couch, inspecting his living room closer. There were two books on the table, both flipped upside down as a way to mark his page. There were a few more plants inside, similar to the ones in front of his door. There was a framed picture of him with two beautiful women you assumed to be his mother and sister. Harry comes back into the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand.

“Here you are, Miss Y/L/N,” he puts on an exaggerated posh accent, and you giggle.

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles,” you respond in the same voice. “Do you have cream and sugar?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I think I might have sugar. Is oat milk, okay? I don’t have cream.” He goes back to his kitchen to retrieve the items before you can tell him it’s okay, and you’ll just drink it black. You thank him, pouring the tiniest splash of oat milk into your coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you add a bit of sugar, stir, taste, and then add some more.

“So,” you begin after your coffee is made to your liking. “What did you think about your first day? You can be honest since we’re not on campus anymore.” Harry laughs, looking down at his fingernails.

“Uh,” he starts. You notice he says, ‘uh’ a lot. “It was terrific. Not so sure I would’ve felt the same way if I didn’t have you to help me through it.” 

“We’re partners in crime now, Harry. We’re the two Kindergarten teachers, and you’re the only other person there my age? We’ve definitely gotta stick together,” you give him a big smile. He doesn’t smile back but looks a bit troubled instead. You wait for him to speak, coming to accept that long pauses were just a thing when having a conversation with Harry.

“Y’know how I assumed you had a boyfriend earlier? I thought after I’d said that–– rather I hoped after I said that you’d be like,” he clears his throat. “‘Why, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?’” He put on the worst American accent you’d ever heard to imitate your voice, causing you to laugh. “To which I would’ve replied with a simple ‘no.’” 

Now it’s your turn to leave Harry wondering what you’re thinking for the first time all day. You can feel his eyes on you as you look at his couch cushions, noticing a bit of crumbs that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me. We just met today.”

“Does that mean I can’t think you’re beautiful?”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself starting to grow a bit turned on by his forwardness. There was a part of you that would risk it all for just one night in bed with Harry because you just found him that attractive. The rational, adult side of you was screaming, ‘Don’t mix business with pleasure!’. By now, you had both moved closer on the couch to one another, knees nearly touching. “I think you’re beautiful, too.” He grins, setting his coffee cup down. You do the same.

“Would it be crazy of me to tell you that I really wanna kiss you right now?” His face is mere inches from yours, so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath. You shake your head.

“No. I really wanna kiss you too.”

“C’ mere, then.” 

Harry leans forward a bit more until his lips are ghosting over yours. You pull at the collar of his shirt, bringing his already close body even closer to yours. His lips are softer than they look, and he’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be, too. He brings his hands up to tangle them in your hair, and that’s when you abruptly pull away, not wanting things to go too far. “We shouldn’t…” He looks at you with sad eyes, but he nods, understanding what you mean.

“Probably not the best idea?” his response comes out as more of a question than a statement, but you nod in agreement anyway.

“Definitely not. I’m um–– I’m actually gonna go,” you stand up, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see––”

You’re out the door, rushing down the stairs before he can even finish his sentence.

The rest of the school week goes on without either one of you mentioning it. It’s a little awkward for a couple of days, but by the time Friday rolls around, both of you decide the best course of action to take regarding the kiss would be to act like it never happened. 

You’re in your room at lunch hanging up your kids’ artwork they made during their ‘Free Time’ this morning, having declined Harry’s lunch invitation for the fourth time that week. You decided to pretend to be busy with work so you wouldn’t be too tempted to go into his room. To most people, you’re sure it looked like you were avoiding him–– and maybe you were. However, you were trying to get over this crush on him in the best way that you knew how.

“Need some help?”

You jump, nearly falling backward off the stepstool you were on. “Holy shit, Harry! You scared the hell out of me!” You feel your body getting warm, and you quickly look away, not wanting him to see how flustered you were.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering my texts, so I decided to come see what you were up to,” he walks over to where you were standing and hands you a piece of art, smiling at it before handing it to you. “You’ve got some artists in your class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking him in the eyes. You hear him let out a quiet sigh.

“Still able to go see about getting those pumpkins ordered after work?”

You had completely forgotten that you and Harry decided today would be the day you’d go get the pumpkin situated figured out for your booth. For a second, you consider making an excuse to get out of it, but you decide against it. This was something that both of you were asked to do, not just him, and you didn’t want the fact that you let your attraction to him cloud your judgment getting in the way of your professional responsibilities.

“Yeah, that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see the gears in his head turning. “Should we talk––” 

You’re quite literally saved by the bell, the end of lunch interrupting where you knew he was about to lead the conversation. “I’ll see you after school? Did you walk here again? I can drive.” Harry nods slowly.

“Uh, yeah. he replies. “I walked. Uh, ’m gonna go get my kids. See you after school then?”

“Yup!” you respond, fake enthusiasm in your voice. Harry gives you one more look before walking out of your room. You wait until he’s all the way down the hall before following behind him to bring your class back inside. You knew you were the one making things awkward between you and Harry. However, the realistic part of you knew getting involved with your coworker was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had in your life. For now, you’d just tell yourself that you were probably more into Harry than he was into you and pray that would be enough to make you get over your crush.

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was a kid.” Harry stuffs his hands farther into his pockets while yours are tightly hugging your chest. You hum, not saying anything. The car ride there was a little awkward, and you were glad it was so short. You could tell there was a lot Harry wanted to say, but you were glad he wasn’t saying it. You keep seeing him glance at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“What size pumpkins should we ask for? Small ones, huh?” Harry nods, looking around in childlike awe. There was a small petting zoo, booths selling warm drinks and kettle corn, and an obscene amount of children.

You walk around together for a moment before encountering a friendly-looking employee who looked like he could help you out. Harry takes over, explaining the situation, and why you need to order one hundred tiny pumpkins. While you’re waiting for the employee to ask the owner if that would even be possible, Harry turns to face you.

“Y/N? Can we talk about what happened on Monday?” you’re about to tell him that you’d rather not, but he continues. “I felt something during that kiss, Y/N. I’m not sure if you felt it too, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We have to get through an entire school year working side-by-side, and if you’re not interested, then I respect that one hundred percent, but I just want––”

“So the owner said that is possible!” The employee that was helping you out comes back with a form and clipboard in their hand. “Can you just fill out some information and let us know what time you need it tomorrow? The owner said he could get it delivered and give you guys a discount since you’re ordering so much.”

“That’s great!” you exclaim, taking the form from him. You were glad to have been saved from your conversation with Harry. You quickly go through and fill out everything you can, telling them they can bill your school’s PTA. 

The walk back to your car is silent. You’re replaying what Harry was saying to you over in your head, thinking about what he was going to say before he was interrupted. He opens your car door like he’s been doing, but he doesn’t make eye contact with you or say a word as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Y’can just drop me off,” Harry says quietly. He leans your seat back and closes his eyes. You wait to see if he’ll connect his phone, but he doesn’t, so you turn on the radio at a volume so low it almost can’t be heard. It takes everything in you not to speed back to his place. You just wanted him out of your car. You had such strong feelings for him that it physically hurt, and restraining yourself from telling him how you really felt was growing harder and harder.

“We’re here.” your voice is a little hoarse from not saying anything. Harry slowly opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, opening the door.

“Right. Thanks for the ride. What time do we need to be at school to set up our booth by?”

“Four. I can pick you up if you want?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He closes the door and walks up to his gate without looking back at you once.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N! Hi Mr. Styles!”

Groups of your students had been coming up to you excitedly all evening. It made you happy to see that the Kindergarten classes were no longer divided. They were starting to hang out with one another. Their parents tell you how their children thought it was just the coolest thing to be on school grounds on a Saturday, and how even though it was only a week into the school year, they were having the best time. It was comments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again.

Things between you and Harry were going well. It wasn’t awkward, but you think it was because you were both too busy helping children paint their pumpkins. You were glad that Harry didn’t take the bit of downtime the two of you had when no one was at your booth trying to talk about the kiss and instead talked about other random things instead. You find out he loves baking (specifically, bread), he has an obsession with old music, and has about fifty tattoos. He talks to his mom on the phone every day, and he is extremely close to his sister. You tell him about your parents’, your undergraduate experience, your hobbies, and you finally tell him what music you like to listen to.

The festival quickly comes to an end, and you find yourself sad once you and Harry are done cleaning up your booth, knowing that you were just going to drop him off at his apartment and go back to yours to spend another Saturday night alone. You get to his complex almost too quickly, and you almost want to keep going and pretend you accidentally missed it just to be with him a bit longer. Instead, you park.

“D’ya wanna come inside?” He blurts out. Even in the darkness of your car, you can tell his face is flushed. “I mean if you haven’t got plans. I know it’s a Saturday night, so I understand if––”

“Nope, I don’t have plans. I’d love to.” Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He quickly gets out of your car and runs around to your side, opening the door for you before you can do it yourself. You almost don’t even notice since it was becoming such a habit.

“I picked up this new bottle of wine a couple days ago that’ve been wanting to pop open. Think we deserve a glass or two after such a long week, hmm?” You wordlessly nod, wholly mesmerized with just how good Harry looked after such a long day of work. His curls fell perfectly across his forehead, his eyes were sparkling and full of excitement. 

“A glass of wine sounds great,” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m ready to drink a whole bottle by the end of the week if I’m being honest.” Harry laughs, quickly punching in his gate code. You could see his hands shaking a little bit, but you decide not to comment on it. He takes the stairs up to his apartment two at a time like he did last time you were there, but this time there’s an urgency and clumsiness to his actions that you haven’t seen before. He jams the key in his lock, quickly shoving the door open.

His apartment is a little messier than it was when you were in it at the beginning of the week, but it’s nothing disgusting. He runs his fingers through his curls, moving aside papers that were scattered along the length of the couch. “Sorry, I was doin’ some planning. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears to the kitchen, and moments later, you hear the pop of a wine cork and the smooth sound of him pouring the alcohol into glasses.

He emerges from his kitchen, handing you a generously poured glass of wine. “Thanks, Harry,” you tell him before taking a big sip. It was sweet, and while you usually preferred a more dry wine, it was still delicious. 

“Cheers to the end of a successful first week,” he holds up his glass, and you smile, clinking yours with his. “Thanks for helpin’ me get through it, Y/N. Couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a timid smile.

“Stop, Harry. You’re a great teacher. I can see your kids love you already,” you take another sip of wine. “I kinda do too. I mean–– that came out wrong. I don’t love you, but I do think I like you.” You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, but something told you now was the time to lay it all out on the table with Harry. He sets his glass of wine down, the biggest smile on his face.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested. Was kinda startin’ to feel like you hate me,” he sounds a little sad. You shake your head.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really into you,” you didn’t even realize how you’d inched your way towards Harry. “I’ve been trying not to think about how we kissed because we shouldn’t, you know? We’re coworkers. I’ve been trying not to think about it all week, though, and I just can’t get you out of my mind.” He stares intensely into your eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he usually does when he’s thinking.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he finally asks. You’re in the same position as you were last time, being mere inches away from the other’s lips. Only this time, you smell the wine on his breath, not coffee. You nod quickly, and Harry cups your face in his hands, hungrily pressing his lips against yours.

“You can do more than kiss me, actually,” you tell him breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a shocked look on his face. “When you say anything…” he trails off.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you tell him bluntly. “Please. Been wanting that all week.” He licks his lips, looking at you in a way he hasn’t yet before. 

“I can definitely do that,” he replies, resting his hand on your thigh. His large hand is dangerously close to your pussy, and you can already feel yourself growing wet. “Let’s get all these clothes off you then, huh?” 

You stand up and quickly start removing your clothes. First, your blouse comes off, and that’s quickly followed by your bra. Harry’s leaning back on the couch, arms resting behind his head. “Enjoying the show?” you ask, quickly pulling down your jeans and underwear. You’re completely naked in front of him in thirty seconds flat, and you reckon that’s the fastest you’ve ever undressed for anything. 

“Very much so,” he mumbles, palming himself over his khakis. “C’ mere, Y/N.” he pats his lap, and you move to sit in it, now straddling him. He softly presses his lips against yours, the hunger that was there just a moment ago completely dissipated. This was a much more hesitant kiss, more gentle and tender. “You’re really beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggle. “I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“I want you to know how much I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Harry nods. “Can I have a taste of ya now?” you notice that his accent sounds a bit thicker than usual, voice a tad gruffer. You nod, swallowing thickly. Climbing off Harry, you lay back on the couch, situating yourself, so it’s a little more comfortable. He looks into your eyes, placing his hands on your knees. “Is this okay, Y/N?” You nod again, and he removes his hands.

“What’s wrong?” your voice has a hint of desperation in it, but after a week of extreme sexual tension, you wanted nothing more than to cum by the hands of this man.

“Wanna hear you tell me it’s okay. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want,” he’s looking down at his hands.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have given you a striptease and laid back on this couch for you if I didn’t want it. I wholeheartedly give you permission to do whatever you want with me––”

That’s enough for him. He roughly pries your legs open, immediately licking a long stripe up your heat. You cry out, not expecting him to get right into it. You look down at him and groan when you see he’s making eye contact with you, a smug look on his face. “How’s tha’, love?” You nod, tangling your hands in his curls.

“Yeah Harry, please,” you moan. Harry sucks harshly at your clit, pulling off loudly, the sound echoing throughout his minimally furnished apartment.

“Please what, pet?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes, a devilish grin on his face while his index finger rubs small circles on your clit. Your chest is heaving up and down quickly as you try to calm your breathing down.

“Please make me cum on your tongue, Harry,” you try pushing his head back down to your cunt, but he doesn’t budge.

“Think I rather like hearin’ you beg like this fo’ me. Enjoyin’ watching you squirm like tha’, love.” Just as your about to beg for him some more to feed his inflated ego, he attaches his lips to your clit once more, this time adding his ring finger into your tight pussy. “You’re tight. Sure you’ll be able to take my cock?” His voice is muffled, and you just barely make out what he says.

You clench around his finger, and he laughs, the vibrations sending a new sensation across your clit. “Y’like thinkin’ about my cock, hmm?”

“Yeah, want you in me,” you beg, lifting your hips up. He grips onto your hips tightly, keeping you in place.

“Can feel yeh gettin’ ready for me, darlin’. Think you can take another one?” You nod, and Harry gently places kitten licks on your swollen clit while he slowly pushes his middle finger into you. You feel full in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time, and he only had two fingers in you. Once he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times, he goes back to harshly sucking on his clit, moaning every so often so you can feel the vibrations against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning loudly, and you pray Harry’s neighbors don’t hear you, knowing how thin apartment walls were.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, doll,” he mutters, adding another finger inside you. The burn feels amazing, and you place your hand on his wrist, urging him to go faster. “Gonna cum in my mouth, hmm? Gonna let me feel ya around m’ fingers?”

“Yes, please, Harry,” you feel yourself nearly there, your orgasm threatening to overtake you at any moment. 

“Give it to me then, Y/N. Cum for me,” he demands. As soon as he says those three words, you’re done for, your body going tense as waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He doesn’t remove his digits from the your cunt until you’re coming down from your high, placing a kiss to your clit. He laughs as you shudder at the overstimulation. Harry places his three fingers that were just inside of you and his mouth and sucks on them, not once breaking eye contact with you. 

“That was really good,” you tell him, crawling on your knees towards him to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw—Harry’s beaming, a triumphant look on his face.

“Not yet. Gotta make y’ cum one more time. I’m a gentleman, after all.” You know he’s messing with you but also serious, so you lean back on the couch, opening your legs once again.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes too? Why am I the only one that’s naked?” Harry laughs, and you hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it. 

“You’re impatient, aren’t ya?” you nod, and he pulls down his tenting khakis and tight boxers. His cock springs up, slightly touching his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. “Hold on a sec.” He gets up quickly, and you hear him hurry to what you assume in the bathroom, rummaging around. He comes back a minute later with a box of condoms, making you laugh.

“Is that a new box of condoms? Have you been holding onto those all week, Mr. Styles?” Harry rolls his eyes and opens the box, ripping open a condom expertly with his teeth.

“Weren’t you just the one beggin’ for me, pet? I’d watch it if I were you,” he jokes, rolling the condom onto his hard length. He leans down to place wet, opened mouth kisses to your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Are you gonna take off your shirt?” you ask quietly. “I kinda wanna see all your tattoos.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you but unbuttons his shirt nevertheless, throwing it into the mess of clothes scattered around the living room. You reach your hand up, shakily tracing the swallows on his chest, moving down to the butterfly across his stomach and finally to the ferns on his abdomen. Harry’s staring down at you, watching as you delicately touch his skin. “You have so many.” you finally say. He nods.

“Yeah. Some of them I just got for the hell of it. Felt like after I got that first tattoo, it was hard to stop.” He caresses the skin on your thighs, and you shudder again. “Gonna let me get inside that pretty lil’ cunt now?”

“Please.”

Harry aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, sharply inhaling as you clench around his length. “Relax, Y/N.’ve got ya,” he tells you reassuringly. “Can’t get inside ya if you’re all tense like tha’.” You can tell Harry’s trying his hardest not to absolutely wreck you, the vein in his forehead very prominent from clenching his jaw so tightly. You grip tightly onto his bicep, biting your lip as you adjust to his size. You were so wet and indescribably turned on that you felt every vein his thick cock had to offer, and you knew you wouldn’t last long once he started moving. By the looks of it, Harry wouldn’t either.

“You can move,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry slowly pulls out of you and then ever so gently sinks back inside you, bottoming out. He lets out a breathy moan, moving one of his hands up to tweak your nipples. “Harder, Harry, fuck.” 

He immediately pulls out of you and slams back inside, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. You scream in pleasure, no longer caring if his neighbors hear what you two were doing. 

“Like tha’?” He asks cheekily, working up a steady rhythm. You nod, gripping your boobs to keep them from bouncing. Harry shakes his head, forcefully removing your hands. “Nope, none of that. Wanna see ’em.” He takes both of your hands in one of his, pinning them up over your head. His other hand reaches in between your bodies to rub at your clit, and before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming again, squirting all over his cock. 

Harry throws his head back in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppy and frantic, and you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm. You spur him on, telling him how badly you wanted him to come inside of you (even though he was wearing a condom). He stills moments later, shaking above you as he holds himself up with an arm, not wanting to collapse on top of you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Why did we wait a whole week to do this again?”

[captainimprobable]

part two of that thing I posted last week! This is also an unedited first draft, so take it with a grain of salt

~ ~

She arrives in the dead of night, clothes singed and skin burned.

The knock wakes them all, but Hooty is the loudest.  He bursts through Luz’s window, a worm shaped interloper, and announces “HEY LUZ, YOUR GF IS HERE!!!!! SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE WAS DIPPED IN A POT OF ACID, BUT I’M SURE IT’S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT.”

Before Luz can even open her eyes fully to focus, he slides back out of her window with a loud “HOOT HOOT”.

Blinking sleep out of her eyes, Luz thinks she might be dreaming, until she hears the knock at the door.  It’s insistent, quick, and somehow a little desperate.

Something is wrong.

She is instantly awake and on her feet, flying down the hallway just in time to collide with Eda, whose hair is sticking up at all angles.  Before she can fall, Eda steadies her, and says “Did I hear Hooty say that Boots is in trouble?”

“I’m not sure,” Luz says frantically, “but we need to get to the door.  Now.”  She’s already running as she’s talking, and finally, finally, she makes it to the front of the house.  She wrenches open the door and standing there is Amity, eyes red rimmed and body shaking.  

Behind her is a sheet of boiling rain.

“Oh my gosh, did you run here in the rain???” Luz asks, grabbing Amity’s hand and tugging her inside.  Amity nods wordlessly, staring at a spot on the floor.  Now that she’s closer, Luz can see the damage; the rain has singed the sleeves of Amity’s dress, and dark, angry burns march up and down her arms.  “Dang, kid, are you okay?” Eda asks, sounding genuinely concerned.  

Something inside Luz tugs insistently, and though she wants to panic, she knows Amity needs her more right now.  So she takes a deep breath and says “Let’s get you patched up, okay?”

Amity doesn’t move.  She’s still staring at the floor with a blank expression, and Luz suddenly has no idea what to do.  She wants to wrap Amity in her arms, protect her from whatever’s going on, but she knows that might not be appreciated, so she decides to ask.  

“Do you want a hug?”

Amity nods so imperceptibly that Luz thinks she might have imagined it, but she nonetheless takes it as a yes.  Careful to loop her arms around Amity’s waist and not her neck so as to avoid touching the burns, she wraps Amity in a loose hug.  For a second, Amity does nothing.  She stands there shaking with her arms hanging at her sides, until all at once, like a dam exploding, she grabs at Luz almost desperately, pulling her tighter as she bursts into tears.   

Luz has never been in a situation like this before.  Eda is sitting on the couch a respectful distance away, watching but not getting involved.  Luz doesn’t know what to do, so she decides to follow her instincts.  She reaches up to stroke Amity’s hair and whispers “It’s okay, you’re okay”.  Amity cries herself out a few minutes later, Luz talking to her in a soothing voice the whole time.  When only sniffles remain, Luz asks “Can we go to the couch? Eda wants to treat your burns.”

“Y-yeah,” Amity hiccups.  It’s the first thing she’s said all night, and something in Luz loosens at the sound of it.  She keeps an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders as she guides her to the couch.  She doesn’t want to let go, so when they sit down, she instantly grabs Amity’s hand.  

“Is this okay?” she asks Amity.  Amity nods, gently brushing her thumb along Luz’s knuckles in silent consent.  

“Wow,” Eda whistles.  “The rain got you good.  Why were you out in that anyway, are you crazy?”

“Eda-” Luz starts, but Amity holds a hand up.  “It’s okay,” she says.  As Eda begins pulling potions out of the cabinet, Amity says “It’s- it’s my parents”.

Luz goes cold.  She remembers them well.  It’s hard to forget people who tried to kill you.  

She hasn’t had much contact with Alador, but Odalia...Odalia gives her a feeling she can’t describe.  Just the sight of her makes Luz unspeakably angry.  Looking at Amity now, though, she realizes that Alador is just as bad.  Complacency in the face of abuse is just as bad as the abuse itself.

“We had a fight,” Amity continues.  “And you ran away? In the boiling rain? That takes guts, kid,” Eda says, a mixture of impressed and concerned.  

“Not exactly.  They, um...they kicked me out.” 

“WHAT?”

“It’s not forever,” Amity hastens to say.  “Just for the night.  My mom said she...she said she can’t even look at me right now, and my Dad just agreed with her.  Like he always does.”

Luz’s grip on Amity’s hand is tight as steel now.  She’s ready to get up and give the Blights a piece of her mind.  She wants to take them down, and make them pay for what they’ve done.  

“So,” Luz says in a low voice.  “Your parents left you alone in the middle of the night in rain that can literally kill you?”

“Yeah,” Amity says bitterly.  “They’re not the best parents.”

“I’m going to make them pay for this. I’m- I’m going to go over there, and I’m going to-”

“Luz,” Amity puts a hand on Luz’s shoulder.  “No.  You can’t- I don’t want you in the same room as them ever again, okay?” Amity sounds scared.

Luz remembers the abomiton that tried to kill her, and the disappointed look on Odalia’s face when it didn’t succeed.  She also remembers Amity’s righteous anger, and the steely eyed glare she gave her mother.  

“I can’t have you hurt again,” Amity says, sounding almost frantic.  “I just can’t, okay?”

“Okay, okay, shh it’s okay,” Luz assures her, cupping a hand to her face.  Neither of them have the energy to be embarrassed about it right now, but it’s probably the most romantic gesture they’ve shared.  Amity leans into Luz’s hand, breathing deeply.

“This might sting,” Eda says from the other side of the couch.  Both Luz and Amity jump, having forgotten that she was there.  Sheepishly, they part, still holding hands.  Eda smirks at Luz and gives her a wink that Luz hopes Amity didn’t see.  She gets the feeling Eda is going to be talking to her about this later.

Eda dabs a bit of blue potion onto Amity’s arm, and Amity hisses, breath whistling through her teeth, but she doesn’t flinch.  “Is it- ow- is it okay that I came here?”  She asks Eda, looking at her shyly.  

Eda snorts, like it’s the stupidest question in the world.  “I practically take kids in for a living, now,” she says.  “What’s one more?”

“It’s just for the night,” Amity hastens to assure her.  “I’m going home tomorrow morning.”

Luz shakes her head.  “I hate the idea of you living with them.  I can’t believe they treat you like this and just get away with it!”

“I’ll get out of there eventually.  When I join a coven…” Amity trails off, and an awkward silence ensues.  They haven’t talked about the whole “Amity’s biggest dream being potentially crushed by the Emperor being evil” thing.  

“Well, the point is, it’s not forever,” Amity finally finishes.  

“Aaaand done,” Eda says, wrapping the last bandage around Amity’s wrist.  She stands up, knees creaking in an entirely unnatural way.  “And now it’s bedtime,” she yawns.  “You two get some rest, too.”

“Thank you, Eda,” Amity calls, and Eda gives her a lazy wave over her shoulder as she leaves.  

The adrenaline is wearing off, now, and Luz suddenly realizes she has no idea what she’s doing.  She glances at Amity out of the corner of her eye, and the image of her cupping Amity’s face floats into her brain.  She flushes a deep scarlet, and suddenly, she needs to be doing something, anything else.

“Well, okay,” she says loudly, standing up abruptly and walking towards the closet.  “Let me get you some pillows and a blanket, the couch is old and creaky, but it’s comfortable.”

As she’s rummaging through the closet, she hears Amity say “Luz”.

“Yeah?”

“Would you- I mean, if you wanted to, could you- could you stay with me for a little while?” She sounds so scared, and so sad, and it’s so unlike Amity that Luz melts immediately.

“Of course,” she says.  “Here, scoot over.”

Amity moves a few inches, wincing at the pain in her arms.  Luz sits down next to her and drapes a blanket over the both of them.  They sit there awkwardly for a few minutes, and Luz is absolutely freaking out.  She has no idea what to do now.  Before she can agonize over it any further, Amity’s head lands on Luz’s shoulder.

This is unprecedented.  

Nobody ever told Luz how scary the beginning of a relationship is.  Nobody warned her that every little thing Amity does could change her mood instantly, or that every time she touches her she can swear to god she feels electricity.

Nobody told her how bittersweet it could be to have Amity Blight resting her head on her shoulder, exhausted from a horrific night of what can only be called abuse.  

Her internal alarms are going off, she’s losing her mind, and she hopes Amity doesn’t notice.  In the midst of this emergency, Amity calls her name sleepily.

“Hey, Luz?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my favorite person.”

Oh.  Oh wow.  Oh. Wow.

This is a whole new level of scary.  She feels a mixture of nerves and elation swirl through her, and she can’t help but smile, and she feels a little bit like crying but she doesn’t know why.  She doesn’t know what to say, so instead, she does something even scarier: she kisses the top of Amity’s head.  

She freezes, hoping that was okay, hoping that Amity doesn’t feel weird about it, but before she can ask, Amity starts quietly snoring.

She’s fallen asleep.  Luz breathes a sigh of relief, marveling at the fact that Amity felt comfortable enough, after an awful night, to come to her house and fall asleep on her shoulder.  How did she ever get so lucky?

After awhile, Luz yawns and checks her watch.  Four forty two am.  It’s definitely time for bed, but she doesn’t want to wake Amity up by leaving, so she decides that she’s going to stay up all night, watching over her girlfriend and making sure she’s okay.

Two minutes later, she falls asleep, resting her head on Amity’s.  

When they wake up in the morning, it’s all apologies and blushing and everything Luz has started to get used to.  But Amity has a small smile on her face despite her blush, and Luz has to admit: it’s the best nap she’s ever had.  

[dilucslittleangel]

𝐀 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐥 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞

Hello!! Usually I wanted to write this same thing with Scaramouche until unfortunately his canon past came out and I had to delete the whole thing- so now, while Dottore will sure take some time to appear in the game, I'm taking my chance to write how I think his past maybe looked like.

Some sentences towards the end have been taken off his artifact!

Word count: 1584

I'd like to say this may or may not fit into canon!! (however I wouldn't mind if this became canon)

So. Where to we begin?

I like to think Dottore had a golden child syndrome from a young age.

Most parents want to see their children thrive and flourish. In fact, the desire to see your child succeed is a normal desire of parenting. Moreover, even good parents sometimes have unrealistic expectations for their children.

But good child syndrome can happen when a child consistently reinforces their parent’s desires for them. These children don’t just want to satisfy their parents- they feel obligated and responsible for doing so. It becomes a significant part of their identity, meaning it affects their overall development. Either one or two of the parent role, are naracisstic.

A healthy child usually wants to succeed and make their parents proud. Golden children take it up a few notches. They may present as anxious children early in life. Similarly, they experience immense anxiety and guilt when they fail to meet certain expectations.

Despite how a golden child syndrome usually develops in a child, it was a little different in this case.

Dottore's father did not give him lots of attention at all. Just like the insane, crazy doctor / scientist he is himself now, so was his father. His father was a mad man, a man who's experiments are more important to him than his own family.

The young boy often watched his father, watching experiments a young boy like him should not see. All his father's attention went to the experiments, did he have to do the same?

The young lad did various of things, but they all were helpless. Nothing made his father even look at him, heck not even at the dinner table they talked. However he didn't want to stop trying. He had to keep on going, so he thought.

His mother? Dottore was just 7 years old when his mother started to feel worse and worse everyday. So worse even she had no other choice but to rest in bed, having a doctor visit every week as her husband was no doctor, just a scientist who couldn't care less. Why did they even marry?

Dottore brought his mother meals every day - at least whenever a helpful aunt came over. Dottore pretty much looked up to the doctor that came over every week. Did he also become so clever and brilliant to maybe help his mother? He sure thought so.

Day and night the young boy spend hours of looking into medical books, learning anything he possibly could. Often would he fall asleep on the ground, all exhausted from studying. He wanted to help his mother.

Besides studying medical stuff and trying to do anything that would make his father give any attention, he'd also spend other day and nights to get the best of grades, always did he bring good ones home. Never would you see anything below 95 points. Dottore didn't even think about having friends, they only were in his way and annoying. He had no time for friends, he only had himself.

Everytime he brought good grades home, he would bring the paper to his mother. She was more than proud of him. „One day you'll be such a handsome man, helping out so many people.. You make your mother really proud..”the sweet voice spoke. He couldn't let his mothers expactions down now could he?

More and more years have passed. Years of studying, years of writing good grades, years of wanting his father to also be proud of him. Dottore was under a pressure of making his parents be nothing, he didn't want to be a good-for-nothing, - a pressure he put himself under. He just wanted to mean something to both of his parents. He wanted to be worth living. Something cracked in the mind of his.

One day, the boy came home in the cold times of the years but he had great news, he scored the best once more in a big test, wanting to share the great news to his mother. He hadn't seen his mother since yesterday, he was happy to see his mother again. „Mother! Mother! Look!”he said proudly as he ran upstairs, he didn't even put his backpack down. „..Mother?”he asked as he entered the room. He walked over to the bed and looked at his mother. Her eyes were closed, chest not rising nor sleeping. „...?” he gently shook his mother, having his hand on the mother's arm, he felt the coldness. The heater was on, how could she get so cold? It got him worried.

„Mother??”he asked loudly, keeping on shaking her till he heard it knock on the door. He put his test paper on the bed and walked downstairs. He opened the door, looking at who was knocking. It was the doctor, wanting to check on the mother as always. „Uhm Doctor.. I don't think mother is feeling well.... She's quiet and so cold..” he spoke. The doctor looked at him. „..?..”the doctor quickly walked upstairs, of course did the boy walk after him. Dottore stood at the door frame, watching the man.

The doctor stood there silently for a few seconds, shrugging a bit together as he suddenly left the room, walking downstairs. „Where's your father kid??” he asked. „I..don't know. He was suddenly gone one day 2 years ago or so..”he answered. „..what?? Then where's your aunt, let me call her, boy.”

Dottore didn't quite understand what was going on but he knew nothing good happen. He looked back at his mother. He walked up to her, climbing onto the bed and hugging his beloved mother. He brushed away the long dark blue hair. Silently, he sank his head on the mothers chest, closing those pure red eyes. He widened his eyes a little as he heard no heartbeat. „...Mother..”. What a shame, he was just supposed to turn 14 in a few days.

Many many more years have passed. While he grew up along his aunt, Dottore had not given up what he did before. Now he had to make his aunt all proud, now that he's the oh so poor failure that couldn't save his mother hm? At least he thought that way, again.

Now being proud 20 years, living on his own in a old lab, doing various of experiments no one would like to recall. He'd just become the madman his father once was. The word "failure" does not exist for him. He cannot be a failure once more, after all.. He's such a big genius. How could a hardworking child with a great smile go to a madman with a short temper who's plans cannot go wrong?

So judgemental the god of his homeland Fontaine, so the people. Fontaine's people were disgusted of the man, afraid of him, they wanted him gone.

Chased away with pitchforks, clubs and angry words, he took fled to the all famous Sumeru Academia where he continued his crazy studies and experiments. He had so many logical theories, yet no one wanted to hear them. One would not even like to look at him. He truly was sick of everyone, of everything.

Years later again, once more the man took fled. Next day awoken, the social reject's legs have given up. Falling into the sand, with a little lake aside, he took a look at his reflection. Half of his face had gotten burn scars, had the man's charm left his side too? Hand covering half the man's face, he remembered it all.

A night of a harmless experiment with potions and fire had kept the man awake. Yet, the man had been tired. Sitting at the table, where he rest his head on his palm, the man closed his eyes. Dottore silently listened to the liquid heating up under the hottest flames. Maybe him closing his eyes was a terrible mistake which he soon got to suffer for.

The liquid had been heated up too much, the man should've turned off the fire by now but he soon was about to reach the beautiful dream realm. Glass exploding and hot liquid splashing against half his face awoke the man. Quickly the man stood up and pressed the towel against his face, sharp breaths escaping, silent cries filling the room, free hand turning off the fire.

How foolish of him, hm?

The man shook his head and closed his eyes. A grip on his shoulder made the man turn around. „..Fatui?”

"Merely an enhanced human? If your great nation can furnish me with sufficient resources and ample time, I could even manufacture that which you would call a god. What say you?"

True indeed. First of the fatui has tracked him down. In the desert that shone bright like liquid gold, he inquired of the Snezhnayan diplomat:

"Will you treat me like the Academia did? Will you call me a monster, a madman?"

"Or will you treat me as my hometown did, and chase me away with pitchforks and clubs...?"

...

"Good. Then, we are now in partnership."

"As for the matter of your title — what do you say to this..."

Taken completely by surprise by the sheer irony of the title he was given, the young man burst into hysterical laughter.

If you'd know ask the man about his theories and experiments, shall you see a sparkle of excitement...

...

(Drawing of Dottore in the age of four. From right to left -> "Daddy" "That's me!" "Mommy")

[cosmicjoke]

Ah, chapters 113 & 114 of AoT, and I’ve only got one thing to say.

Zeke, am I supposed to be feel sorry for the bitch?  Well I DON’T.

No, seriously, fuck this guuuuuuuuy, I know I keep saying it again and again, but God damn, if these two chapters didn’t just solidify my hatred for the bastard.

First of all, he is just... the most whiny, delusional, self-pitying pathetic loser, just... he really is.  I feel like a character in a Peanuts comic strip every time he opens his mouth.  All I hear is “whaa, whaa, whaa”.  And his delusions of grandeur would almost be funny if they weren’t so pathetic.  

Here’s the thing, alright, and I’m sorry if I’m going to offend any Zeke fans with what I’m about to say, but too bad, I guess.  

Everything out of this shitheads mouth is a lie.  And just because he’s convinced himself of his own bullshit doesn’t make the lies coming out of his mouth any more true.

He turns Levi’s fellow soldiers into Titans.  He does this without remorse.  Don’t try to tell me Zeke felt bad about it.  He didn’t.  You know how I know he didn’t?  Because in his private moments in the immediate aftermath, he mocks Levi over having done it, gloating about his supposed master plan of using Levi’s compassion against him and utilizing it to ensure Levi’s own demise.  Zeke’s entire attitude here is sickeningly unbothered, unburdened, uncaring, and smug in the EXTREME.  He mocks Levi’s compassion, literally makes fun of it and lambasts it as a pathetic sign of weakness when he says “I know you’re a caring leader.  Your soldiers haven’t done anything wrong.  They’ve just grown a little bigger.  You wouldn’t, say, slice them to pieces over that, would you?”.  This is Zeke making fun of the fact, finding AMUSEMENT in the fact that he’s just murdered 30 people who have never done a single thing to him, and reveling in what he thinks is a victory that will lead to Levi’s own death, reveling in having taken advantage of and weaponizing a better man’s kindness and compassion.  Zeke is ENJOYING this moment.  Just like he enjoyed killing all those soldiers in Shinganshina.  And then, the kicker, and this is a particular point about Zeke that just makes me absolutely sick, he pretends to himself as if he didn’t want to do it.  He PLAYS at his own regret, saying, “I didn’t want do this either,” and yet in the very next breath, continues to treat what he’s done with grotesque flippancy, saying “Still, how sad... There wasn’t even a battle or skirmish.”  Gloating over how easily he’s bested Levi and his men, before going on to sink further into his insane delusions of grandeur, blaming their inability to trust one another on Levi’s inability to “understand”.  I’m sorry, Zeke, but no.  You didn’t even TRY to help Levi understand, too wrapped up in your own egotistical god-complex to consider it a possibility.  ‘Oh, only I could possibly understand, along with Eren, the great task we two special beings have been burdened with.  He makes assumptions about Levi’s life, about the kinds of things he’s seen and experienced, and convinces himself that they couldn’t be anything like what Zeke has (which, hilariously, is all wrong, since out of everyone, Levi knows better than anyone else in the SC what it’s like to be treated as a second class citizen).  Zeke just assumes Levi couldn’t possibly ever grasp the complexities of the outside world, and so that’s why Zeke didn’t even bother trying to talk to him.  Blah, blah, blah.  No, Zeke, you didn’t share your stupid ass plan because you wanted to continue to feel special, like you’re the chosen one who gets to decide the fate of an entire race of people.  The most hilarious part of this entire sequence is when Zeke is thinking Levi couldn’t ever understand the concept of all the world’s militaries bearing down on Paradis at once, and what that means, couldn’t grasp the urgency of the situation, as if ZEKE HIMSELF isn’t completely fucking responsible for that situation in the first place.  Zeke literally engineered it.  He created the problem, and now wants to position himself as the savior.  He’s just such a loser man.  The God damned definition.  

And as if all of that wasn’t bad enough, when it turns out Zeke’s plan to take Levi out failed miserably, and Levi comes after his sorry ass like a bat out of hell, Zeke continues to mock Levi, to laugh at what Levi’s just had to do in order to survive and pursue Zeke.  He says “Where’d your adorable little men go!?  Don’t tell me you killed them all!  The poor things!”.  Are you fucking serious?  Zeke’s behavior here is one of the most sickening things in the entire story, bar none.  The way he laughs at Levi here for having to cut down 30 of his friends and comrades, the absolute display of sociopathic glee and disregard for the severe, horrific trauma he’s just caused this man, is honestly shocking.  Man, I’m sorry, but anyone who sympathizes with Zeke over Levi after this display maybe needs to reevaluate their moral compass, because it’s damned broken.  And just as an aside, Zeke’s cowardly fear of Levi is also pretty damned funny.  He’s just such a bitch./

We go from this perverse display of psychopathic megalomania into Zeke’s backstory, and again, I’m sorry if I’m gonna offend any Zeke fans here, but to all of that, I ask, so effing what?  Oh, boohoo, Zeke’s mommy and daddy didn’t shower him with praise or spend any time playing catch with him, and somehow, I guess, this is meant to excuse his attempts later in life to commit mass genocide.  Poor, poor Zeke.  Yes, his childhood was sad, he experienced neglect from his parents for two whole years, was used by them as a pawn for their idiotic plans, and ended up disappointing his father when it turned out he had no real talent.  And again I ask, so what?  This sort of experience isn’t exactly what one would call unique, or even extreme.  There are countless children in the world who go through the exact same thing in various forms.  Parents who put too much pressure on their kids to succeed, parents who try living vicariously through their children, parents who make their disappointment known and even punish their children for failing to live up to their expectations (something Zeke’s parents never did, by the way).  The point is, this isn’t even what one would classify as extreme hardship.  It’s a sad story of a child being neglected and not receiving enough love from his parents.  This isn’t to undermine the very real pain one experiences from those things.  Not at all.  That pain is real and legitimate.  But it’s also fairly common and pedestrian, as far as childhood trauma is concerned, and it doesn’t even remotely begin to justify the extreme lengths of megalomaniacal, sociopathic, genocidal tendencies he later displays.  Also, Zeke also had his grandparents, who did love him and spent lots of time with him.  He had Mr. Ksaver, who played with him and acted as a mentor to him.  It wasn’t like Zeke had no one and grew up with zero connections.  That’s BS.  

Levi calls this bitch on his shit later in chapter 114, as Zeke’s muttering away in his delusions about how he’s “saving everyone”.  He asks Zeke “That was your plan?  Mercy killings?”.  Levi’s asking Zeke here who the hell gave him the right to decide who lives and who dies?  Who gave him the right to decide who’s life is WORTH living?  When Levi says him getting to die by being eaten by a Titan is pretty merciful, considering he stole the lives of so many of his comrades, Zeke’s reply speaks volumes about just how warped and demented his thinking is, when he says “I stole nothing.  I... saved them.  Them and the children they would have... I saved them all... from this cruel world.”.  He’s literally justifying murdering countless people by trying to redefine that murder as “saving” them.  It’s not murder because it saved them from ever having to suffer again!  He’s absolving himself here of his sins by casting his actions in not just a favorable light, but trying to sell them as heroic and admirable.  He takes no, actual responsibility for what he’s done.  He removes himself from that responsibility by pretending he was doing a good thing, an honorable, noble thing, by murdering a whole bunch of people who’d never done jack shit to him.  Yippee for Zeke, I guess.  He’s the very definition of an ego-maniac, of someone suffering from a messiah complex.  He’s insane, and morally depraved.  The very fact that he’s the one who comes up with the idea of eradicating the Eldian race by rendering them infertile is only further proof of this.  What teenager comes up with a plan to exterminate an entire race of people and thinks it’s a good idea?

Right before he blows himself and Levi up, he screams “I’m hope you’re watching, Mr. Ksaver!”.  He’s indulging in his own, fanciful notions of himself as the “chosen one”, as a unique person who alone is capable of delivering humanity to salvation.  He’s showing off, asking Mr. Ksaver to watch him as he “saves the world”, because all he cares about, really, is making himself feel special, of fulfilling what he’s deluded himself into believing is his destiny, his right to decide the fate of the world. 

And then he almost kills Levi in the process.

I swear, I wish Levi had just chopped his shitty head off right then and there.  No one can blame Levi for chopping the bastards legs up like he did, for being so angry.  It wasn’t just that Zeke had killed so many of his fellow soldiers by turning them into Titans, or tried to kill Levi by turning them into Titans, it’s also how Zeke laughed about it, and laughed at the pain he’d caused Levi, treating all of it as if it was worth nothing, and then having the unmitigated gall to cast himself as the hero bestowing his benevolent mercy on all.  Give me a fucking break.

Fuck you Zeke.  I hope you rot in hell, you dumb shit.  

Also, fuck you to Floch too.  I hate that bastard almost as much.

[127-mile]

Kiss and tell.

Pairing: Sicheng x female reader.

Genre: College!au, babysitting, horror | Fluff, angst, mature content.

Warnings: Fingering (it’s not detailed, I don’t know how to write smut), orgasm denial, kind of fear inducing phone calls, mention of Sicheng selling drugs, strong language.

Plot: You have to babysit on Halloween night, and invite Sicheng to join you. But something feels wrong when the phone starts to ring.

Word count: +5.1k.

A/N: This is part of the 90′s love collab by @quokkacore​ and formely by @/etherealereine | This is inspired by an urban legend. | The title has nothing to do with the story, I came up with the idea after.

"What are we doing tonight?"

You are startled when you feel hands on your waist from behind, and if you were not so acquainted with the perfume immediately intoxicating your sense, you would have freed yourself from the sudden embrace. "I don't know what you are doing, but I am working tonight."

The warmth against your back disappears, and you meet your boyfriend's gaze. "Working? It is Halloween, you can't work." he answers, and you scoff, pushing him away when he tries to grab your book. "Care to tell me how I am supposed to pay for food if I don't work?" he seems to think about ir, running his fingers through his hair.

"Why don't you ask your parents? You'll go back to work next week." you knew what he was about to say even before he opened his mouth. Not that he is an open book, but because it is a recurring conversation between you. "You think my parents are going to give me money to cover what I didn't get today, just because I preferred to go party and spend my saving in alcohol?"

"Why not?" you heave a sigh, you love your boyfriend, of course you do, but you are tired of this kind of conversation. It leads to the same ending every time. "Because my parents are not yours, Sicheng. If your parents can take care of all of your expenses despite you being an adult, mine can't."

"They do not cover all of my expenses! I work too, I have money of my own!" he says, a hand on his heart in faux offense. "Selling bad quality drugs is not a job, Sicheng, it is false advertising and tricking naive kids who think they will become cool if they get high before class."

"Now you are just being mean, Y/n." Sicheng sighs, and you shrug. "I just need to you to understand that I need to work, I can't call my parents for money when I feel like it. So I'm sorry, but you'll have to find something to do tonight, because I am not going out."

"Alright, whatever." he answers, and even though you were expecting him to leave and sulk, he stays. "I'm sorry, baby, I just wanted to have one last Halloween with you, that's all." you roll your eyes, and you put your hands on his cheeks. "You need to stop being dramatic, Sicheng. This is our last Halloween as students, not our last Halloween as a whole, except if you plan on breaking up with me once we graduate."

When he pursues his lips, and seems to think about it, you hit his shoulder. "Eh! Do you really have to think about it?" he tries to stay stoic, but he fails, because a smile brightens his face right away. "Of course I do not need to think about it! Why would I break up with you? Dummy."

"You are an idiot, Dong Sicheng." you mumble, and he leans to kiss the tip of your nose. "I am your idiot." he whispers, and you pretend to gag. "That's disgusting, what is wrong with you?" he rolls his eyes and he takes a step back. "So there is nothing I can do, or say to have you by my side tonight?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry." you are not really sorry, because you know your work is way more important than whatever party he was planning on bringing you to. "But," you start, and he straightens up. "maybe you could stop by around 10pm, to spend a little bit of time with me, what do you think?"

Sicheng's eyes widen and he cocks his head to the side. "Wait, really?" you nod, and you wonder when he is going to jump in place from the excitement you can see in his eyes. "You never asked me to come!" of course you never did, and for many reasons, but why not? "I know, but at least we'll be able to spend Halloween together. Okay, there will not be alcohol, or music, but we'll be together."

"I don't care about the alcohol or the music!" he exclaims, and you chuckle. "Alright then, come at around 10." you take a pencil out of your bag, and Sicheng hands ou his hand so you can write the address on the palm of his hand. "Don't lose it, I don't know their phone number so I won't be able to call you to give it again."

"Do not worry, I'm not going to use my hand at all!" he answers, and you heave a sigh. "You have class this afternoon, and you use this hand to write." he shrugs as he looks at the black ink bleed a bit onto his skin. "I won't write then, I'll listen, and remember everything." this is impossible, especially for Sicheng who can't focus for more than five minutes at time, but you trust him.

"Sicheng, we are going to be late, are you coming?" the young man turns around when he hears Johnny's voice behind him. "Yeah yeah, I'm coming." he gets up from the bench and he swings his backpack onto his right shoulder. "I have to go practice, but I'll see you later, alright?"

"I don't think I'll have time to wait for you after class, so you'll see me tonight, at 10. You better be on time, or I'm going to bed without you, alright?" he nods with fervor, and he leans to kiss you gently on the lips. "I'm never late."

"Careful with your hand!" you yell as he starts to run towards his friends who wolfwhistle at the public display of affection. "Promise!" he answers, and you are pretty sure you hear him curse at his friends before disappearing.

You put your book back in your bag, and you get up. Your afternoon classes are quite boring, but now that you know you will see Sicheng tongiht, it does not sound so bad.

"Alright, let's go over the rules one last time," the older woman says as she walks around the house to pick up random things off of the floor. "the kids have to do their homework, take their shower, and be ready to eat by 7 o'clock." you know better than to follow her around, so you hum to let her know that you are listening.

"I trust you to make them something healthy for dinner," she adds, and for the first time in five minutes, she finally stops walking. "you can take whatever you want from the fridge if you are hungry, or thirsty, make yourself at home."

"They are not allowed to watch television, candy either. They have to be in bed by 8:30, and because it is Friday, you can let them read, or play until 9, then you'll put them to bed and turn off the lights." she reads over a list of numbers she hands you. "This is the number of the restaurant, and the emergency numbers if you ever need them, which I hope you won't have to use."

"You can watch the television when the kids are in bed, and if you want to sleep, you can use the guest bedroom next to the downstair bathroom." the woman takes her coat, so you get up from the stool. "You can give one piece of candy per kids coming tonight, and I'll try not to come home too late."

"You need to relax," you say, and the lady takes a deep breath. "this is not the first time looking over the twins, I know what to do, I know the rules, and you can trust me, I'll respect them. Enjoy your date." the older woman puts her hand on your shoulder, and she nods. "I trust you, good evening. Kids, be good with Y/n!"

The two kids agree from the living room where they are playing, and the lady opens the door before disappearing in the car who's been waiting for her for at least ten minutes now. You close the door, and you join the boys in the living room.

"Alright kiddos, it is time to do your homework!" they both whine, because "it's friday, we can do them sunday" but in the end, you succeed, and you watch with a certain pride as they work on their calculus worksheet.

You, and the twins jump when you hear the doorbell, and you turn on your seat. It is probably children trick or treating, and you feel bad for leaving the twins alone, because they are not trick or treating, they are doing their homework, and it is sad, they should be allowed to be outside, in their little costumes instead of doing math.

"I'll be right back." you say as you stand up. You grab the bowl of candy, and you open the door. Three little vampires are watching you expectantly. "Oh my, I almost had a heart attack!" you gasp when they hiss and you try to stay quiet as the young man walking them around the neighborhood looks ready to die of embarrasment.

"Here you go." you drop candy in each of their little basket, and you close the door. Before putting the bowl back near the door, you pick a couple of candy and you put them on the table. "Let's make a deal, if you do not say anything to your mother, I'll let you have these candy."

"Deal!" the twins shout together, and you chuckle as you hand them the candy. "If you finish your math in the next five minutes, you'll have time to take a shower, and watch tv for a little while before dinner."

You know you should listen to the mother's rules, but you want to see them smile. You want them to feel comfortable around you, and how do you get kids' trust? You break one or two rules, and you let them do what they are usually not allowed to do.

Pretty quickly, the math homework are done, and the kids are in the shower. They are old enough to be left alone in the bathroom, you know they won't flood the room, well, at least, you hope they won't. You do not want to have to wipe the floor.

You soon find yourself busy cooking something for the twins that you forget all about Sicheng probably getting ready to meet you, if he did not lost the address like you said he would. At least, it gives you the opportunity to focus on what you are doing, and when the twins are back in their pajamas, the meal is not burnt, which is a victory.

"Veggies?" one of them says with a wince, and you sigh as you put the plates in front of them. "Your mother said to eat something healthy, it's good, trust me." you do not trust yourself on your cooking skills, but you can't say that to the kids or they'll end up spitting the food back into their plates, and thank you but no thank you.

During the meal, you have to stand up a few times to open the door to give candy to the children, and sometimes to college students trying to see if they still can get candy. Spoiler alert: they can.

And before you know it, the kids are in bed, and you are on the couch, all alone in this big house. A horror movie is screening on the television, but you barely watch it, your eyes are stuck on the clock above the doorframe leading to the staircase.

Ten more minutes, you think, smiling to yourself.

10:42 pm.

Sicheng is either late, lost, or could not read the address on his hand after practice. You wonder if you should sleep until the twins's mother comes back from her date, or if you should wait a few more minutes to give Sicheng the benefit of the doubt.

But when then more minutes pass, you stand up.

You grab the almost empty bowl of candy, and you settle it on the kitchen island, and you walk to the front door to make sure it is locked, and you are startled when you see two eyes looking at you through the window, but you heave a sigh of relief when you recognize Sicheng's smile.

"You are late, I shouldn't even let you in." you mumble as you open the door, and the young man takes a step forwards, until he is close enough that his nose almost touches yours. "I am late, you are right, but I am also crazy handsome tonight, so I know you will not leave me hanging in the dark and the cold. he answers, and you hate how right he is.

"What were you doing? Drinking with the boys? Hooking up with a mysterious disguised girl you found in Taeyong's basement?" he shakes his head, and you push yourself away from the door to let him pass. "I did drink a beer with the boys, but there was no mysterious girl in Taeyong's basement, just a rat."

You roll your eyes and you close the door. "We can't make noise, the twins are sleeping, and as much as I love you, their mother pays me well, so I don't want to lose them." you explain, and when you turn, you find yourself pressed against the wooden door. "You are the one who has to stay quiet, not me."

"I'm always quiet." Sicheng scoffs but before you can say anything to defend yourself, he kisses you. The kiss has nothing sweet to it, but you don’t mind one bit.

"Couch." you say after breaking the kiss for air, but Sicheng shakes his head. "We've done it once against the door, never again!" Sicheng seems to remember, and he starts to laugh so you hit him in the chest until he takes a step back.

"There is absolutely nothing funny about it! It was painful!" you mumble, but he thinks otherwise. He falls down on the couch, and before you can join him, the phone rings and you jump. The ringing comes from the kitchen, and it is so loud. It echoes against the walls, so you run to pick up, not wanting to wake up the twins.

"Are you even allowed to answer the phone?" Sicheng asks, shoulder pressed against the doorframe leading to the kitchen. "I don't know, maybe." you let a sigh of relief when the phone stops ringing, and you tense for a second when Sicheng wraps his arms around your waist. "So where were we."

You are about to turn around when the phone rings again, and you pick up right away. "Hello?" the other side of the line is silent, and you wonder if you should hang up, but soon, you hear a heavy breathing that brings shiver down your spine. "Hello? Can I help you? Miss Lee is absent at the moment."

"Have you checked on the kids?" the voice asks, and you frown. "What? Who are you?" feeling Sicheng's breathing against the back of your neck is not helping right now, and you try to shug him off of you. "You should check on the kids."

"But why?" before you can get an answer, the person hangs up. "What the fuck." you whisper, putting the phone back on its set. "What's up?" Sicheng asks, and you shake your head. "I don't know, someone asking me if I checked on the kids."

Sicheng hums, and you turn on your heels to face him. "That's probably a prank, you know, it's Halloween, and teenagers like to scare their neighbors." he is not wrong, you both did this kind of prank when you were still in high school.

"Come on, forget about it." he takes your hand, and he leads you back to the living room. He pushes you gently on the couch, and you settle on your back, Sicheng hovers over you, one leg on the couch, and the other on the floor for stability. His lips are close to yours, and you break the distance by taking his lower lip between your teeth, and he groans a little too loudly.

"I thought we had to be quiet." you say, and he rolls his eyes, his finges wandering underneath your top to feel how warm your skin feels against the coldness of his fingertips. "yeah yeah, whatever." his lips slide along your neck, mouthing at your jaw, and each bite is soothed by his tongue right away.

You close your eyes, trying to lose yourself into the feeling of Sicheng's mouth and fingers, but you can't quite get rid of the feeling in the pit of your stomach. You can't seem to forget about the sound of the breathing on the other side of the phone. Teenagers or not, it was scary.

When Sicheng opens his mouth to speak, you realize that you completely zoned out, and you look up at him. "What?" he sighs, and you feel his fingers against the button of your pants. "Can I?" he asks, and you nod. You definitely need to change your mind, and you know Sicheng's fingers are going to do wonders.

He prompts himself on one hand, and he uses the other to pop open the button of your pants, and to slide the zipper down, way too slowly for your liking. "Come on, don't be a tease." you whisper, and he chuckles. "Eager, aren't we?" little shit.

Sicheng likes to tease, but he decides otherwise tonight, as his hand slides inside of your pants and panties, fingers already through your  folds. "Don't worry, I'll make you feel good." he whispers against your ear, and you bite your lower lip. His voice is so low, you would give everything you have to hear it more often.

(I’m bad at smut, so we’re leaving it at that, sorry.)

"Don't stop, please, I'm- I'm so fucking close." you say, and he tries to move his fingers deeper, but with your pants and panties around your thighs, it is hard for him to move as much as he would like, but he makes do. "Sicheng, Sicheng, Sicheng." you repeat his name, and he smirks. This is the most beautiful song he has ever heard.

You open your eyes wide when Sicheng stops moving, denying you of the orgasm you've been chasing for the past five minutes. "What the fuck?" you exclaim, and you notice how Sicheng's eyes veered towards the front door. "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" you ask with clear annoyance in your voice, and you feel like crying when he pulls his fingers out and clean them on your pants, which is disgusting. He stands up, not even bothering to help you and he stops in front of the door. "I heard something."

How did he hear anything over your moans? You straighten up, buttoning your pants back and when you feel like your legs are back to normal, no longer shaking and feeling like jelly, you join him. He has his ear against the door, and he puts his index finger against his lip for you to stay quiet.

Once again, the phone rings, and makes you jump. Your heart misses a few beats, and it is honestly ready to jump out of your ribcage. "Do I answer?" you ask, your breathing quickening. "Yes, go." so you do just that. You go back to the kitchen and you pick up the phone.

You hear the heavy breathing right away this time, and even a chuckle when your own breathing hitches in your throat. The voice is masculine, there is no doubt. "Who are you? What do you want?" panic can be heard in your voice, and you do not even bother trying to sound calm.

"Did you check on the kids?" you close your eyes, trying your hardest not to hang up and lock yourself in one of the rooms of the house for the rest of the night. "It's just a prank, nothing more." you tell yourself, and when the man laughs, a real hearthy laugh this time, you realize that you said it out loud.

"Come on, this if your job as a babysitter, making sure the kids are alright. You wouldn't want anything to happen to them, right?" you shake your head even though no one is here to see it. "Check on the kids!" this time the voice is louder, and as cold as the bead of sweat rolling down your back.

"How do you-" before you can ask your question, you hear the beep signaling that the person has hung up. "Sicheng?" you turn around, but the young man is nowhere to be seen. You wander in the living room, and in the bathroom, but he is not here. "Sicheng, where are you?" you ask in a loud whisper, but you get nothing.

A kick on the living room window makes you scream, you cover your eyes with your hands, as if not seeing what happens would make it stop. "Please, please, please." you do not want to fucking die, not here, and not after being denied a fucking orgasm. When a hand lands on your shoulder, you turn and attack without looking at who or where you are hitting.

"Stop, Y/n, it's me!" Sicheng whines, taking a step back. When you open your eyes, you see him holding his stomach. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asks, shaking his head. "What? You were gone, and someone knocked on the window, so I got scared!" you say, frantic.

"I was in the restroom and I didn't hear any knock." he answers right away, letting his arms fall back on his sides. "What was the sound you heard?" you ask, tilting your head to the side, you need to know, or you are going to cry on the spot. Well, you are already crying, you can feel tears running down your cheeks.

"Calm down baby, it was nothing, just a loud engine. I'm sorry if I scared you." he takes a step forwards, drying the tears on your face with his thumbs. "Calm down, it's okay." you shake your head, looking around. You came here so many times, and yet, this is the first time you do not feel comfortable in this house.

"This is not okay! Some madman is calling me, asking me to check on the kids, someone knocked on the window, this is not fucking okay!" he takes a deep breath, and he tries to smile, but he realizes that it might not be enough to reassure you. "It's just kids playing a trick on you."

"Well, they need to stop because it's not fucking funny, Halloween or not!" your voice breaks into a sob, and he pulls you against his chest. "Don't worry, if they call back, I'll answer and I'll tell them to stop before I find them and kick their ass, I do not care what age their are, I'll do it."

"Sit down." you sit down on a stool around the kitchen island, and he opens the fridge to pour a glass of water that he hands you. "Take a dreep breath, it's fine, alright?" you nod, sipping on the water. You are honestly surprised none of the kids came down to see what was going on after you screamed.

Wait.

You know the twins, and you know they are light sleepers. They would have woken up by now, you stand up, maybe a little too quickly because you see stars dancing, and Sicheng is quick to be by your side, trying to help you find your balance. "What is going on?" he asks, he sounds genuinely worried this time.

"The kids. There is something wrong with the kids! I screamed, they should be up, they never sleep over loud noises!" Sicheng stops you when you stry to walk to the staircase. "The man on the phone told me to check on them, what if he found a way in, and did something to them and that is why they are not waking up?"

"Come on, don't be silly. They are probably sleeping, they probably did not even hear you scream. This is a prank, Y/n, just a prank!" he sounds angry, and you frown. Sicheng is hard to anger, so it is not normal for him to react so quickly. Well, it is maybe not anger, but it is definitely impatience that you hear.

"Stay here, I'll go check on them if that makes you feel better. I won't wake them up, so they'll never know I was here." he forces you back down on the stool, and in less than twenty seconds, he is gone. You can hear the floor creaking under his weight, and you know when he stops to check the multiple doors.

Of course, of fucking course, now that Sicheng is gone, the phone rings again. You try to ignore it, you really try, but the sound is awful. It is loud, and it hurts your ears, so you have no choice than to stand up and picks up. "What the fuck do you want? The kids are fine! Who are you?"

The man giggles, and you hear nothing else for a minute or so. "Did you check on the kids yourself? Because you definitely should." you can't take it anymore, you have to know. You hang up, and you go up the stairs, you do not mind if you die, you just need to know what the fuck is going on, and who is playing with you.

One thing is sure, if you survive, and find whoever decided to play this little game, you are going to make his life a living hell.

Once you are upstairs, you stop in front of the kids' door. The door is closed, and once again, Sicheng is nowhere to be seen. You really wonder what he is doing, but of couse, you do not think he might have anything to do with what's been going on.

"Come on, you can do it." you push the door open, trying not to make it creaks, because you do not feel like explaining what is going on to two scared kids. The room is dark, but it is quiet. You hear their regular breaths and you could cry ouf ot relief. Sicheng was right, it is nothing but a prank.

You close the door, and start to go down the stairs. Something feels off, you think. You know the feeling of being watched even when you are supposed to be alone? Yeah, that's what you feel right now, but when you look over your shoulder, you see nothing but a long dark hallway. Maybe that's the problem. The constent darkness.

"Fucking hell." you almost trip over your own feet when a scratching sound is heard against one of the walls. You jump the last few steps, and fortunately, you fall back on your feet, but the pain in your ankles is almost too much.

"Have you checked on the kids?"

You turn your head so quick towards the voice that you know you'll be in pain tomorrow, and your eyes meet.."Johnny? What the fuck!" you exclaim, and the man laughs. This is the laugh you heard on the phone, but you did not recognize it with the constant sizzling. He is not alone in the living room, your friends are all there too.

"What?" you turn and see Sicheng halfway down the stairs, smiling like an idiot. "Happy Halloween my love!" you frown, and you let yourself fall on your butt. "You couldn't be there for Halloween, so we decided to bring Halloween to you."

You want to cry, but you also want to beat them. "I hate you all so fucking much. You have no idea how scared I was!" you look up at Sicheng who crouches down in front of you. "Is this why you were late? Is this why you disappeared earlier?" he nods, unable to stop smiling.

"Yeah, I had to open the back door for them." he leans in to kiss your forehead, and you close your eyes at the contact. You should be mad at him right now, but you are too tired for that. That's a problem for future you, and also for future Sicheng. He is going to regret that.

"I hope you had fun, because it is over." you mumble as you stand up. You open the door, head tilted to the side, glancing at your friends one by one. "It is time to go home, you too Sicheng." Sicheng's eyes open so wide it is almost comical. You need to be alone to recover, because you are pretty sure your heart has not beat normally for an hour.

"What? Why?"

"Because I do not want to see you right now!" he nibbles on his lower lip, probably waiting for you to laugh, but you stay still. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you would freak out so much." he tries to explain, but you shake your head. He needs a taste of his own medicine. "I don't care, Sicheng, we'll talk about it later."

If Johnny sees you smile when Sicheng lowers his head, he says nothing about it, he just winks at you. They all get ready to leave the house when the phone rings, and they all stop dead in their tracks. "Oh come on, you are going to wake up the kids at some point, that's not funny."

"That's not us." you heave a long sigh, of course it is one of them. They probably asked another basketball player to help them out, so you walk to the kitchen and you take the phone. "What?" the breathing sounds different this time, and the voice is too. Lower than Johnny's, raspier even. "I think it is time for you to really check on the kids." you roll your eyes. "The kids are fine."

You turn to watch your friends when you hang up, and this time and you see something you have never seen in them: fear.

[volleychumps]

Heyy 💖🥺 I love ur work and I would cry if you did this: Karusuno boys reacting to their S/O coming back from a long summer vacation, please make this as fluffy as possible I want my heart to melt from the sugar 🥺💗

if your heart didn’t melt babes I didn’t succeed~

The Karasuno Boys Reacting to S/O Coming Home From a Long Vacation 

----------------------------------

Daichi 

- Simple baby is 100% the type to pretend like he wasn’t dying to see you after such a long time 

- leans against the glass windows of the airport as your flight finally lands, heart drumming rapidly against his chest in contrast to the small, relaxed grin on his face as he counts down the minutes displayed above the terminal

- you knew that he was waiting for you, but that doesn’t stop him from scanning the crowds seriously- almost as if he thinks you would have forgotten that he was

- so when he sees you decked out in flight clothes, hair tied into a messy bun with a rolling suitcase behind you, the grin that overtakes his features matches the excitement in his heart as your head turns back and forth to catch a glimpse of him

- decides to wait for you to see him first, slipping his hands in his pockets and watching amusedly as you look around in confusion for his face 

- shakes his head when it takes you a minute, the bright expression on your face when you finally meet his eyes making the captain jut his head to the side like come here you 

- takes you in his arms tightly when your pace quickens in his direction, taking you off guard at how hard Dai held you to him as his grip grows impossibly tighter, the ache in his chest finally relieved when you laugh softly into his chest

- “I’m back, Dai.” “It feels unreal. But you’re here.” 

- glides his fingers through the hair on the back of your scalp to look at you fondly before chuckling at your teary expression, lips finding your forehead 

- “You’re finally here.” 

Sugawara

- Definitely the type of boyfriend to have been spamming your phone throughout your vacation, making sure you were eating properly and taking care of yourself without him doing it for you 

- lowkey it kind of felt like he never left, but you still missed seeing him in person 

- So when the day came where you finally arrived, Suga arrived at the train station early in a white-collared shirt with the cuffs rolled to his forearms, anxious to see you as he continously scratches his cheek and runs a hand through his gray hair 

- so when the train arrives almost an hour later, Suga is leaning against one of the poles with a small smirk on his features in front of the doors, holding a simple sheet of copy paper with your name on it 

- heart does a backflip when you emerge passed the giggling onlookers at your boyfriend’s sign, watching your expression become one of exasperation before shaking your head and rushing into his now outstretched arms 

- catches you by the waist, not ashamed to give you a little spin as a relieved laugh slips the setters lips, happy to finally get to see the tangible you as you pout up at him

- and lowkey make sure you didn’t lose any weight because dammit he told you to eat properly

- “Suga, I said no signs-” “Awe come on, you know I did it because you told me not to.” 

- ignores your playful glare to cup your cheek gently, the other hand on your hip as he holds the sign in place with an easy grin before taking your head gently and tucking it into his neck 

- “Miss me?” you giggle into his neck as Suga sighs, smiling into your hair as if he could finally relax, breathing out the tension in his chest 

- “You have no idea, angel.”  

Asahi

- Omg this poor baby kept telling you not to text him too much or even call because he wanted you to enjoy yourself on your vacation without worrying about him

- so you did what he asked of you, albeit hesitantly, but in reality Asahi felt more lonely without you than ever 

- Has the day you return marked on his calendar, and when the day finally comes, he’s at the airport bright and early, bringing along one of his jackets and some snacks in case you were cold or hungry from your flight

- taps his foot in anticipation while waiting for you, jaw slackening when you exit your terminal with the sun in your hair and bounce in your step as he straightens immediately 

- tightens his grip on his little bouquet of flowers he had brought, nervous smile crossing his features when you spot him 

- Baby is a tall boi what can you expect

- Walks to meet you halfway, stumbling over his words at the sight of you after so long, in the flesh as you bounce up to him, glint in your eye as if you were meeting and falling in love with him all over again

- “H-Hey! How was your flight, I brought you some-” 

- eyes widen when you let go of your things and throw your arms around his neck, tension in his arms relaxing as he wraps them tightly around your waist, one of his hands still holding the flowers as the sack of snacks and his hoodie falls to the floor

- whispers “I missed you, God I missed you.” over and over again into your shoulder as he melts into your embrace, honest words filling your ears as you giggle

- “Asahi. I’m here now, alright?” You whisper back, quiet enough so he can hear it, grinning like a maniac into his embrace

- Pulls back with a closed-eye smile, slight moisture in the corners of his eyes as he strokes your face with his thumb gently, leaning down to touch his forehead against yours

- “Welcome back.” 

Nishinoya

- Lmao don’t get me started on this boy, he’ll want to be calling you via FaceTime every night during your time away, even if it’s just to say a quick goodnight to each other before you turn in

- If it’s different timezones this mf doesn’t care, he’ll wake up early just to wish you goodnight

- 100% will show up to the airport with a shirt that has your name on it, bonus points if that shirt has a picture of you on the back 

- Doesn’t stop bouncing on the balls of his feet until your flight finally lands on schedule, and pushes his way to the front of the other people waiting while ignoring their strange looks when you emerge among the other passengers

- “Make way people, Y/N L/N is entering the vicinity.” 

- lmfao the people waiting with him are like: yo is she famous is he a fanboy

- runs to meet you, and you laugh before letting go of your rolling luggage to run as well, definitely not expecting Nishinoya to hug you so tight he’s lifting you off the ground and spinning you in circles

- “Oh my god you’re real. I’m touching you.” “Noya...what are you wearing-: 

- deadass tucks some hair behind your ear before kissing you, soaking in the familiar feel of you while not caring about the onlookers who were either passing with worry or smiles on their faces

- but you care lmao

- “Noya, not here!” “Now that’s not fair.” 

- smirks at your blushing cheeks when he takes your face in his hands gently, brown eyes glinting as he brushes his nose with yours

- “All those months and not getting to kiss you? You better believe I’m about to get my fill now, babe.” 

Tanaka

- This boy would absolutely be the most extra, more extra than Noya if you can believe it 

- Is the type to claim he can’t come see you, but lowkey makes the arrangements with your family to actually be the one to show up when you’re least expecting it

- I kid you not Tanaka will pull up in this nice-ass car (probably borrowed, but who cares), shades on and everything while waiting for you outside the airport, leaning against the front of the vehicle like some hot-shot while holding this extra-ass sign for you

- so when you exit the airport looking for your parent’s car, imagine your surprise when Tanaka is leaning all cooly against this car you’ve never seen before, lifting his shades slightly when you approach him with an eyebrow quirked 

- lmao a whole ass crowd gathered too your mans really outdid himself

- “You Y/N L/N?” “Babe, what are you doing?” 

- scoffs, ignoring the racing in his heart before opening the car door for you, and you amusedly get in before Tanaka nods all mysterious-like to the crowd before getting in and driving off, the silence heavy between the two of you

- “So that was quite the greeting-” you’re cut off when he parks immediately, leaning over the console to take your face in his hands and kiss you like his life depended on it, hand entangling in your hair as you smile at the desperate movements like a man starved

- “All that just for me?” You whisper breathlessly as Tanaka’s eyes scan your face, pulling you into a tight hug over the console, and you promise you can hear him sniff as he mumbles against your shoulder

- mans really got out of his cool character real quick-

- “Thank you for coming back to me.” 

Hinata

- Apricot-haired baby definitely talked Kageyama’s ear off on how much he missed you, and couldn’t wait for you to come back for the summer you were gone

- Probably led to Kageyama texting you in addition to your boyfriend’s sweet ones, begging you to cut your trip short so you could save his sanity

- But if I’m being completely real Hinata would probably over-sleep on the day you were set to arrive, waking up just as your train pulled into the station 

- couldn’t sleep the night before because he was so excited awh baby

- And let me tell you this boy would run like the earth was cracking in his wake, jacket halfway on his body and probably the wrong shoe on each foot 

- Deadass I’m not kidding, he made it to the station just as you were able to hail a taxi back to your home, seeing you from a distance and instantly zooming over to prevent you from getting in 

- Shoves through a crowd of people, wanting nothing more than to see you, so he jumps high while calling your name out above the heads of onlooking passerbys before he finally catches your attention and breaks into yet another run 

- “Y/N! I’m here, dammit-!” “Shou!” 

- collapses into your arms, breathing heavily from that random burst of physical ability that was borderline inhuman as you laugh, lowering him to the floor as he lays in your lap, chest heaving 

- “Shouyou, you ran through traffic to get here again, didn’t you-” “I...I still made it...didn’t I?” 

- Takes a strand of your hair in his while looking up at you, breathless before chuckling through strained breaths as you worriedly cup his face

- “I hafta be the first one to see your pretty face, you know?” 

Kageyama

- Awkward sweetheart definitely made it a point to text you maybe once a week during your vacation, simply asking you how your day was and if you knew when you were coming back from your cruise

- would shrug when people ask him if he missed you, saying a vague “I guess so” when in reality he would sit in the sand by the docks you had left in, just kind of staring out into the ocean while missing you heavily

- it even became a stop in his morning jog omg awhh

- so when he finally worked up the courage to send you the text asking when you were for sure arriving, he fist-pumped the air when you said it would be in the next few days, but the captain manning the ship wasn’t too sure and you might not be able to text him due to bad signal

- Still visited the docks every morning, worry growing when a week passed and you still couldn’t text him back

- On the day following a week, he’s thinking about how much he actually missed you, morning jog dwindling to a walk as he strolls in deep thought, hoping everything was okay

- but when he arrives there’s a boat docked, all passengers seeming to have left already except for a single girl sitting on the dock with her feet in the water, causing him to still in place just as the girl picks up her phone

- he feels a buzz in his pocket, and knows. 

- And then he’s running again, the sound of his footsteps causing you to smile as you lift your feet in the water and back onto shore, standing to greet him before he grabs you by the shoulders

- “I was worried! So worried, and you...you couldn’t contact me, and...” “Tobio.” 

- visibly relaxes at the way you said his name, simply hanging his head and tugging you tightly into his chest, afraid you would dissappear as you smile softly, feeling the blue-eyed boy quiver slightly in your embrace while tightening his hold on you

- “I’m back, Tobio. I’m back.” 

Tsuksihima

- Prideful blondie is way too full of it to text you first during your time away from Japan, but you honestly had hardly any time to text which led to the emergence of Saltyshima at the lack of communication

- “Why don’t you just text Y/N, she’d probably love-” “She’s fine without me, so I should be fine without her.”

- lmao even he knows he doesn’t mean that

- so when you finally text him, he can’t help but grab his phone a little too quickly to see that you had sent him your arriving date, and he can’t help but scoff a little before sending a message he would regret: I’m not coming. 

- resists the urge to hit his head against the wall regretfully when you reply back with oh:(

- so low in behold, imagine Tsukishima’s surprise when he finds himself at the train station, hands shoved deeply in his pockets on the day of the event he “wasn’t coming to” 

- sighs when your stop pulls up, wondering if he could make this out to be some freak-show coincedence when the doors slide open and passengers file out, his hazel eyes latching onto your familiar head of hair immediately as his chest rises with an emotion he wish he could tame

- and then you walk past him, seemingly absorbed in your phone as Tsukishima blinks, literally not believeing his eyes before fighting the urge to call out to you when his phone buzzes

- I’m in Japan! Can’t wait to see you<3

- Sighs, leaving you on read as he watches you stall in place, signalling you had seen that action before he rolls his eyes, walking behind you while thinking Screw it. 

- “Oi. Did you really just walk past me?” “Tsukki...?” 

- Eyes widen when you tackle him into a tight hug, burying your face in his chest as you cry a little, Tsukishima staring down at you as if you were some kind of alien before a smirk overtakes his features

- “Someone missed me.” “Of course I did! A-and you said you weren’t coming...” 

- Rolls his eyes as he wipes the moisture from your eyes, tilting your head up to meet his stare before he sighs, pulling you into him and resting his chin on top of your head before mumbling lowly 

- “Ugh. Turns out I’m not fine without you, so be grateful.”

Yamaguchi 

-really misses you, and is the type to look at photos of the two of you before he sleeps, wishing you would come home sooner while brushing off your inquiries off on whether he was doing fine without you 

- “Trust me, she’ll love it.” “H-Hinata? Are you sure it’s not too much?” 

- Takes his friend’s advice and purchases a big teddy bear, carrying the large stuffed animal with him in both hands as he embarrasedly looks away from all the strange looks he was getting in the airport upon his arrival 

- I can’t he gets fuckin lost-

- deadass can’t find what terminal is yours despite your instructions, the large bear skewing his vision definitely not helping so he’s literally wandering the airport half-blind with this big ass teddy bear and a growing frustration of wanting to see you already 

- Until he bumps into someone, like lmfao it was bound to happen sending them falling on their ass with a slight oomph

- “I’m so sorry! Are you..” “Way to say you knocked me off my feet, Tadashi.” 

- apologizes profusely before setting the bear down, not caring of blocking the walkway before kneeling down at your side, still trying to comprehend that you were there in front of him, in the flesh

- on the bright side he was going the right way

- “Y/N...” as he gently reaches a hand out, retracting it slightly before it can brush against your skin “It feels like it’s been forever-”

- “It’s been months, dummy. Now will you please help me up so I can kiss your stupid freckled face?” as you clasp his hand, Yamaguchi’s eyes beginning to water when your familiar form fits perfectly in his as soon as you’re standing 

-  you embrace him tightly, the freckled boy realizing just how much he missed you before hugging you back, not realizing that tears were streaming freely down his cheeks like a broken dam as you smile, knowing all the times he brushed you off it was for your sake 

- “I’m home, Tadashi.” as he sniffles, muffling the coming sobs into your hair before quivering gently, holding you even closer as if you would leave again 

- “I’ve been waiting, Y/N.” 

-------------------------

General Works: @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye @yams046 @dreebbles @takemetovalhalla @therestless101 @dai-tsukki-desu @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @wisepandaslimeland @deadontheinsidebut @lmkjimin @h0ngh0ngh0ng @theworldupthere @itz-tooru

[chroma-ki]

What Happens When Society Fails Those Who Could Succeed - A Bakugo Katsuki Analysis

I started this a while ago, but I’ve seen others delve into this topic and I wanted to share as well. This delves into to hero society’s affects on Bakugo Katsuki’s upbringing, his worldview, his self-view, and Izuku’s involvement in breaking down the ideas society has drilled into his head. 

A lot of people like to ignore the fact that Katsuki is a 14-year-old kid at the start of the series and that much of his life, attitude and disposition of the world have been completely shaped by the adults and society around him. 

What do you expect a kid with potential to turn into when they are warped in such a way by a society that dictates that they need to be strong, or nothing at all? What about when your only value is based around a sliding scale of strength and weakness? What happens when that kid’s only source of help comes in the form of a reckless, selfless child who defies all sense of logic and reason (Izuku)?

Growing up, Bakugo was constantly praised for being strong, having a powerful quirk and being generally the smartest person in the room at any given time. He could arguably be considered a prodigy, and much of what he sees and learns feels beneath him -- because it's already on his mind. He is a kid with natural god-given talent that everyone around him immediately recognizes as above average. 

Even as a toddler, he was constantly a step ahead of everyone else. Due to this, people developed a lot of high expectations for him at a young age -- and it doesn't help that he has a naturally competitive streak that makes him constantly want to prove himself and live up to these expectations; even surpass them.

Always being at the top of his class and being ahead of the curve mentally fuel the idea in Katsuki's mind that, in the game of life, he is 'winning'. Yet, at the same time, none of it is ever enough. Other's high expectations of him cause him to build extremely high expectations of himself; expectations that border on unrealistic. They also inflate his ego exponentially when this praise gets reaffirmed time and time again.

Certainly, in a situation where you're raised on other people's praise and validation, it is completely understandable that you would put a lot of emotional emphasis on other people's opinions of you. On top of that, he gives off such a natural and convincing air of confidence that people can't help but feel that he is reliable, despite his attitude. People are awed by him, and all of it feeds into the mental image he has constructed of himself, and the world as a whole. It's the whole reason for a lot of how he acts. He builds an image of himself based on the praise of those around him -- and even Izuku also feeds into this mentality by worshipping the literal ground Katsuki walks on as a kid.

This mentality seems to be working fine for him until Izuku's very presence starts to throw a wrench into everything Katsuki has been raised to believe. 

Izuku completely defies logic to Katsuki. Izuku does not fit the societal norm and, beyond what others have taught him, Izuku is Katsuki’s only real hint that the world might not be quite what he thinks it is, and that his idea of what it means to be strong may not be a ‘one-size fits all’ defenition.

Izuku is a quirkless kid; weak and generally mild-mannered. He doesn't have any self-confidence and is a big crybaby. Yet, Izuku still believes that he can be strong and become a hero -- when Katsuki has always been told the opposite. Katsuki recognizes that this may be some version of strength he is unaware of, and it raises BIG RED FLAGS in his mind.

Where many of Katsuki's other childhood friends were barely more than acquaintances who he forgot over time, Izuku immediately caught Katsuki's interest and spiked his curiosity. Like everyone else in his life, Izuku praised Katsuki and told him all the things he wanted to hear -- but Izuku was also unique and intelligent. Izuku was the first person who actually seemed like they could stand near Katsuki's level; like they might be actual competition. 

Then, Bakugo got his quirk and Izuku is diagnosed as quirkless. The reactions of everyone around him to this news, including Izuku’s own reaction, only go back to telling him what society has told him all along. Strength is everything, and quirks are a part of that desired strength. This is another moment that reaffirms Katsuki's world view. "I won, you lose. I really am the best."

Though Bakugo is super aggressive on the outside, he is a very self-critical character and often means the opposite of whatever he is saying. Especially when it comes to his self-confidence and bravado. 

People often complain when watching the series about him telling people to 'die' and "got to hell", or calling other people "extras", and I don't think enough people understand -- that is just how he speaks. Those are things he says out of reflexive anger. None of those words ever have any real meaning. 

It's more important to pay more attention to the moments in which he is more reserved/quiet. He suffers from both a superiority complex and inferiority complex, as well as paranoia (much of which revolves around his warped idea of how Deku, and other people he values, perceive him). Much of what he says is just empty words or him trying to project an image of self-confidence.

He wears his pride like a suit of armor to hide all the things he doesn't want to admit about himself. He attempts to make up for his own insecurities by getting angry. And he learned this at home from his mother, who is much the same as him.

From the little that we have seen of his parents throughout the series so far, his parents love him and provide him with everything he could possibly need -- but his mother often insults him and throws harsh truths in his face to counteract his cocky nature. One of the most notable instances of this is when All Might and Aizawa are talking to his parents about moving the kids to the dorms and his mom says "If you hadn't have gotten yourself caught by the villains in the first place, none of this would have happened".

That comment feeds directly into his mental breakdown in front of Izuku where he blames himself for All Might's downfall, flat out saying that "If I hadn't been kidnapped by villains, then it never would have happened".

It gets me every time if you go back to the 8th episode of the series, near the VERY BEGINNING -- right after he's defeated by Deku for the first time in combat training -- and the episode literally starts with him having a full on panic attack. 

He's trembling, hands shaking, hyperventilating, the whole deal. And that particular incident was triggered not only by Deku defeating him and standing up to him (which completely contradicts the Izuku that Bakugo has grown up with all his life and feeds into Bakugo's own fear that he is weak), but is also brought on by the fact that he notices how severely Deku allowed himself to be injured JUST TO WIN THE EXCERSIZE. Again, this idea that even the weak can be strong. It also doesn’t help that he cares about Izuku and doesn’t want to see him get hurt.

And I'm sorry -- but below does not look like the face of someone who's pissed off to me. He looks PETRIFIED.

Izuku doesn't just piss Bakugo off -- Izuku TERRIFIES him.

There are actually multiple instances of him reacting like this to Izuku injuring himself throughout the series: sludge villain, sports festival fight against Todoroki and the training camp where Bakugo was kidnapped being the major ones I can think of beyond current managa events. Bakugo may claim to ‘hate’ Deku, but he DOES NOT like to see Deku hurt himself to win, or to save. 

Bakugo saw this 'self-sacrificing' trait in Izuku even as a young kid, and it freaked him out. It made him feel weak. It made him question himself and the world around him.

This fear starts with the incident where Bakugo fell off the log as a kid. 

It wasn't a life threatening situation, but it was the first situation where Izuku rushed to Bakugo's aid with complete disregard to himself AND when everyone else refused to help. 

Bakugo's friends, teachers and parents all held him to such high expectations of intelligence, power and strength -- so of course those would be the values that he grows up idolizing. No one ever really offered him help, because they assumed he didn't need it -- and then Izuku comes rushing in offering it to him, risking his life to do so, and Katsuki's only thought is "Why?! Why do you feel like you have to save me when you can't even protect yourself? Needing to be saved means that I'm weak! Do you think that I'm weak?" I have recently watched another show that had a similar scenario and that character explained what I believe Katsuki felt in this situation BEAUTIFULLY.  ------ “It felt like [he] was trying to say I was weak or something. [He] was intruding on feelings [he] didn’t have any right to – and I hated it. Then that got me thinking about everyone else in my life. They never treated me like I was a weakling; someone who needed his hand held. They had faith that I would continue to grow and they let me do it; helping me without ever making me feel weak.” 

Izuku continues to do this again and again throughout the series when it comes to Bakugo: the slime villain incident, the training camp, etc -- all without fully comprehending how his actions affect Bakugo. Each time this happens, Bakugo feels weak and utterly helpless to save himself OR to stop Izuku. It's all his worst fears realized.

It's like living his worst nightmare over and over without end in sight.

Going back to the concept of him being offered 'help', very few people have offered him this throughout his life -- and they all saw it as something he never really needed. It's like Katsuki's personality and mental state is a huge sign screaming 'I DON'T UNDERSTAND! NOTHING MAKES SENSE! IT MAKES ME MAD AND UPSET! SOMEONE, HELP ME.' and everyone just ignores it.

--- During the log incident - all his friends say 'Oh well, he's fine. He'll pick himself back up.' and Izuku is the only one who offers to help. 

--- The sludge villain incident - all the pro heroes say "We can't help right now! You'll just have to hold on, kid!" and again Izuku is the only one who offers help.

--- After his and Deku’s first fight at Ground Beta, which utterly breaks him, all the other students just let him leave alone and only Izuku rushes to help. All Might sees him upset and crying after this and says, “Oh, I guess he’s already over it” -- when that obviously wasn’t the case. 

--- And then -- to top it all off -- after he was kidnapped by the LOV and held captive for 3 days without help he wasn't even given time to process! He was taken away by police, ridiculed by his mother, forced to go back to school where his teachers acted like nothing happened, jumped into the provisional hero licensing exam with all those helpless feelings rolling around inside of him and on top of it found out that Izuku received All Might's power -- a power that he had spent his whole life putting on a pedestal. And he goes to Izuku for help.

The fact that everyone just brushed him off like he was someone who didn't need help is just disgusting. The only instance where an adult in his life acknowledged that he needed it was AFTER he already had a full on mental breakdown in front of Izuku, blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong and thinking that he had somehow been living his life wrong all this time. Only then did All Might and Aizawa think, ‘Yeah, maybe we failed this kid.’ 

Keep in mind during all of this that he is 15-16-years-old! He's trying to figure out how to deal with this shit all on his own, with the only person he feels comfortable opening up to being Izuku - someone who he has so much trouble understanding.

At the heart of Katsuki is a place of fear. Fear of being weak, fear of being helpless, fear of failure, fear of losing his friends, fear of himself, most certainly fear of Izuku -- and fear FOR IZUKU. He is a boy who lives in a constant state of panic, worry and paranoia. He is lonely and beats down on himself a lot.

The series deals a lot with how hero society has completely failed it's future generations, but Katsuki is a case where they should have succeeded -- yet ultimately they failed him too. He has all the makings of what could be one of the greatest heroes of all time, yet those around him only focused on the parts of him that could make him great and chose to ignore all the parts that would ruin him from the inside out. 

They put him high up on a pedestal only to knock him down and refuse to help him back up. They made him feel like even asking for help was something that made him 'lesser', and it caused him to see other people that way too.

Izuku is the heart of Katsuki's growth, because in every way that Izuku succeeds, Katsuki fails. 

I would actually argue that out of anyone in the series since coming to UA, Katsuki has experienced the highest amount of personal failure. He has been knocked down time and time again but ultimately wants to pick himself back up to prove that he deserves to be there. He fights for his friends and tries his best at everything he does. He doesn't always get it right, and he says things that might offend others, but other than Izuku, he's the most driven person there and would utterly destroy himself to reach his goals.

[masterthespianduchovny]

The counter argument to people being against Sam/Rebecca for legitimate reasons are claims that Sam is being “infantilized.”

These age gap conversations in general are difficult to have because one side won’t acknowledge that just because two people are adults doesn’t mean they are in the same place emotionally and mentally. And this is a very important thing to note.

Someone being 18, a legal adult in America (I think you can date adults at 16 in the UK), doesn’t mean they are able to date a significantly older person, say 38, without a problem. Because, more times than not, which is an understatement, there’s a lot of fucking problems in an age gap relationship even if the older person isn’t dating the younger for nefarious reasons.

It is not infantilizing Sam or any young adult to say, “hey, this relationship may be detrimental to them because of their age.” That is just…facts.

Many people on tumblr and other SM sites often talk about how they still feel like kids at 22 and are still figuring life at, despite having jobs, kids, and shit. Despite being in full blown relationships, these young adults don’t feel like adults and that’s because you aren’t magically mature just because you’ve reached an arbitrary age to be declared a legal adult.

You just aren’t.

And being mature in one aspect of your life or regarding emotional development doesn’t mean you’re mature in other aspects. At 17, I was mature enough to understand this.

Because maturity isn’t just something you obtain like your degree or license, it’s an ongoing, ever evolving thing.

It’s life experience. As in how you learn and grow from it.

Acknowledging that someone doesn’t have significant life experience isn’t infantilizing them, it’s giving an important perspective to a crowd of who is essentially arguing “age ain’t nothing, but a number.”

If you’re all for an 18 year old dating a 38 year old, why not a 16 year old and a 36 year. It’s only a two year difference, right? And what if that 16 year old is really mature? Most would have an issue with that. People are justifying a significantly older person dating a younger person due to legality and not they are actually mature and on the same level. But there’s not much difference between a 16 and 18 year old or an 18 year old and a 20 year old. But guess what, there is a significant difference between people between the ages of 18-22 dating people a decade or more.

I literally just turned 30 last week and, even when I was 25, after a while I could tell when I was speaking to a teen or someone in their early 20s. Because, whether or not you get along with them, there are just some things that, because they haven’t had enough life experience, they don’t have the nuance or perspective to engage with you a certain way and this is even on a non romantic level.

And, in some cases, the younger person is more “mature” not because they’re actually that mature, but because the older person is that immature.

So before I get into the issues with Sam and Rebecca, let me give you four examples of age gaps relationships:

1. A friend of mine dating an older man when she was 23 and he was 38. She was a manager at a gym and he was a gym member. They would have sex and hang out, but she wanted commitment. Whenever she asked him about it, he’d get weird on her. After finally breaking it off months later, he “loved” her and finally wanted commitment, but she’d moved on. While she dated him, I told her my two cents on the situation and left it alone. Last month, she recalled this conversation as she groaned in displeasure hearing about an age gap relationship. She’s now skeptical of older people dating significantly younger people.

2. A friend of mine was 18 dating a 28 year old. We all worked at a pizzeria. He watched her on the cameras from the back when he became a manager—got mad if she talked to male coworkers. Used to gaslight her, controlled her via manipulation, and other gross toxic shit. After emotionally tormenting her for a year or so and pressuring her to live with him, which her parents allowed due to some issues they didn’t want to exacerbate, he cheated on her. They’re broken up now. She was always stressed out while with him.

3. A girl got into her first and only relationship when she was 19 with a man who was 32. They’re now married 23 and 36. She wants to wait to have kids and on her birthday he gifted her baby clothes. Make of that what you will.

4. A girl, 22, dated her 37 year old professor. At 28, she feels like she’s outgrown him and is disturbed about how and when they got together. And one night she heard him advise his friends to date younger girls so they can mold them. Yeah…

Sure you have marriages that have age gaps that lasted, but even then, very few of those are actually healthy. The younger person is usually taking orders from the older partner, can’t do certain things, doesn’t have any true agency, skills to survive on their own, etc. What typically happens is after that person becomes older, they begin to question their relationship because what seemed okay when they were younger, is unsettling after becoming older.

Like I said, take out the nefarious shit, and there is still a significant life experience gulf between Sam and Rebecca and that is one of the many issues with this pairing. Despite what some romantics and media loves to say, “love does not conquer all.” Most of the marriages that end in divorce isn’t because they couple fell out of love, it’s due to finances. Love couldn’t conquer that. Some marriages end because one of them changed or they could’ve overcome their vast differences.

I’m not saying Sam and Rebecca are on a path for marriage or are even in love, they aren’t, however, they idea that just because they get along and have some things in common means it would be a great relationship is very shortsighted. There isn’t even enough significant interaction to prove this. Getting along on an app isn’t the same as connecting face to face. And none of this can overcome Rebecca’s life experience and, relatively speaking, Sam’s lack thereof.

And I’d argue that, on average, athletes tend to be immature because they live in such a bubble where people constantly kiss their ass. Which makes Sam look more mature than he probably is.

Even then, being with an older person ages you. This younger person misses out on so much, many of which they regret, because they’re trying to be mature enough for their older partner. They don’t want to seen as immature for doing young shit when that’s exactly their age range.

But let’s get into the real consequences for Sam here:

1. Sam has to keep his relationship a secret. The media will tear him up about dating/fucking the owner of the team. And so will fans. People love to mention he’s being infantilized because he’s young and black, how do you think that is going to go if anyone finds out about them? Racism, baby. He won’t suffer from sexism, however, they will question his place on the team and if he deserves to be there. This will taint him and even cause issues with his parents. So secret relationship it is.

2. If his teammates found out, this will fracture his relationship with them. Whether or not it’s true, Sam will be blamed for shit outside of his control. They’ll think he only got more playing time, more pay, or whatever because he’s fucking Rebecca. OR they’ll try to ask him for favors and get upset if he won’t do it. His team will think he’s getting favoritism and believe there is a power imbalance between them and Sam as a result. Don’t believe me, Google dynamics once students realize a classmate is dating their teacher or an employee is dating their boss. It usually doesn’t go over so well.

So even if the relationship is loving and healthy, Sam will suffer from being with Rebecca. Because if it's a secret, it’s going to bother him eventually that they have to sneak around and the anxiety of being caught. If it’s out in the open, he will suffer harassment, alienation, his play will suffer because his teammates probably won’t pass to him, etc.

Which leads to, 3: transferring teams. But how is that fair? Sam is developing well under ted and now that may delay his development and stock just so he can be with Rebecca? We want this young, black man to succeed, but his career will be kneecapped due to his relationship. Sam is serious about football and this would be a major blow to him.

Like I said, take out nefarious shit and this relationship is still detrimental to Sam. And even with a healthy relationship, there will still be a disconnect that will lead to their relationship ending because they are in two vastly different places in their lives.

That is not infantilizing Sam, that’s reality.

And, again, that power imbalance is massive. We saw how easy it was for Rebecca to send Jamie back to Man City. She has so much power, control, and influence over Sam’s career and livelihood. She can dictate how much or how little they offer to pay him during contract negotiations.

And this is the ship people are getting upset at others rightfully taking issue with?

It doesn’t even make sense for Rebecca to go along with this either. She played a part in Keeley breaking up with Jamie, which age, Jamie being younger, played a key part in it. She’s even disgusted by Rupert dating a significantly younger woman. I doubt her opinion centered on maturity. She’s not going to suddenly support this relationship if she found out that Bex is super mature.

Rebecca would stand to lose a lot of she were to get involved with Sam and others found out. She’d get dragged through the mud worse than she did after her divorce. She’s lose them support of her staff. And it would fuck up the relationship she has with her players.

Now some Sam/Rebecca supporters have called bullshit on people who are against this relationship, yet support Ted and Rebecca. They claim it’s the same power imbalance or that one exists.

1. It’s not the same power imbalance.

2. Yes, one does exist, but it’s not nearly as wide as it is with Sam and it wouldn’t destroy her either.

Ted has the authority to hire and fire people. He has the authority to facilitate trades, call up people, and send them down. He has a lot of influence that Sam does not. They aren’t equals, but there also isn’t a massive power disparity either.

Rebecca also can’t completely fuck over Ted like she can Sam if she went all scorned woman. Because, doing so, would entail her own demise. Even if you don’t include that, Ted is only attached to Richmond. He doesn’t care about having a career as a football coach in the ways coaches from non US countries do. He can go back and have a career as an American football coach and still be massively successful. Or, if Rebecca did want to fuck him over, he has that bomb as to why he was hired. Ted doesn’t even have to play that card for it to be played by either Higgins or Keeley.

Because one of them will if they feel it’s necessary.

We have no clue what’s going to happen with this storyline. But the idea that people against Sam and Rebecca being a thing, romantically or sexually, being fueled by racism or sexism is misguided, hypocritical, and flat out wrong. If this entanglement is pursued, it stands to harm Sam from various angles and that’s MY objection.

People think this is all about Ted/Rebecca when, personally, I’d lose (some) respect for Rebecca if she got involved with Sam. That would taint her for me. Because let’s be real, many of us are grossed out by Rupert dating, marrying, and then impregnating Bex. Yet, some are okay with Rebecca and Sam getting together and those who are against it are sexist? And I truly believe the same people supporting this ship are also grossed out by Rupert’s relationship.

How is Rupert’s relationship gross, but we shouldn’t obsess over age with Rebecca and Sam? People say Sam is mature enough to date Rebecca, which implies that Bex isn’t mature enough to be with Rupert and that IS sexist.

Even if the writers confirm tomorrow that Ted/Rebecca will never be a thing, I wouldn’t object any less to Sam/Rebecca. If Sam was Roy’s age and in Roy’s position, I’d have way less of an issue.

But you’re going to have a tough time convincing me that a young man who is 20/21 and employed by a 47 year woman who can heavily influence his career isn’t a massive power imbalance that shouldn’t be explored by fans.

I’m really curious to see how this post ages once the storyline plays out. But this post is about exploring what it means for Sam and Rebecca to get involved and how the accusations of infantilizing Sam doesn’t pass the sniff test.