#I miss my nana lol

[apprenticestanheight]

every once in a while I'll remember I'm the only person (that I know of) in my family that's picked up a craft even slightly close to the one my grandmother used to spend hours of her day doing and I'll just go "oh." because it reminds me she's been gone for nearly twenty months and that just. hurts so bad.

[tsundcku]

hachi and nana just got an update

[caramelmochacrow]

"You know that I want you And you know that I need you"

[peachsukii]

katsurei lore; ryuko’s favorite time of day as a child.

Ryuko is too smart for her own good, even as a toddler. She knows when her dad comes home from work, impatiently skipping back and forth to the front door at the same time every day. She’ll fight eating dinner without him, too, insisting she can’t eat without him present. The minute the lock clicks, she’s bolting to her room, giggling frantically behind her door.

“M’home,” Katsuki calls out while throwing his keys on the side table in the entryway. He knows Ryuko’s little game and can’t get enough of it, no matter if it’s every single day or not.

Ryuko shouts, “Have no fear, Dynamight’s here!” as she zooms down the hallway, arms out before tumbling into the living room. She gets to her feet while Katsuki and I are cracking up at her excitement.

“There’s my little princess,” he says as Ryuko latches onto him, little hands wrapping around his neck. He looks over her shoulder and at me in the living room before grinning. “Missed my girls.”

[nanatsuyu]

i so desperately want to engage with this fandom but im either too awkward to add my two cents in community fandom enjoyment of some hc or too afraid to make a post and have someone find it and be like "actually thats the worst opinion ive ever heard" and i get sent to the shadow realm

[monsterbisexual]

the silt verses: chapter 34

chapter 38

[non-un-topo]

Had to say goodbye to my favourite professor yesterday, who’s retiring ;_; Tears were shed, hugs were had. And she said she’d like to keep in touch with me and now I’m freaking out because I don’t know how dfgfds

[yumenosakiacademy]

i was like "jesus christ my gifs lately hav looked like utter dogshit.. is it bc theyre of stuff thts 2d not 3d (ex: anime as opposed to gensh!n) so the mistakes r more obvious? n bc this is a bright monitor i can see them more glaringly? aw jeez..." but i decided 2 look at a gifset id jus made thts in my drafts on my Phone n... ??? the gifs hav a bit of pixelation, sure, thts normal, but theyre not NEARLY as shit as on the monitor?? monitor makes it look like its like 70% pixelage going on but on my phone its jua lil bit here n there on some edges?? is it possible 4 a monitor/computer 2 jus not b able 2 process gifs well....

[red-riding-wood]

I Want You to Want Me

Pairing: Neil Lewis x F!Reader

Fandom: Watching the Detectives

Summary: Neil receives a frantic call and finds you outside of Gumshoe after a date night gone wrong. Secretly habouring feelings for you ever since the two of you met, he finds you oddly irresistable in your tears and torn fishnets.

Warnings: SMUT, mutual pining, dub-con touching, dryhumping, riding, foreplay, teasing, begging (m), masturbation (m), clothed sex (semi), Neil being a wet paper towel, so just Neil being Neil, pervy Neil, switch!Neil, slight dom but mostly sub!Neil because c'mon guys it's NEIL, slight dom!reader, body worship, public sex (technically?), premature ejaculation (sort of?), angst, some fluff? by my standards anyway lol so take that with a grain of salt -- this ended up being more wholesome than I thought it would be

Inspired by this cover of I Want You To Want Me (the reader's song) and Creep (Neil's song) by Radiohead.

Huge thanks to @your-nanas-house for getting me started with a prompt for this and cheering me on!

Totally nicked the "jock boyfriend" inspo from @cillianmesoftlyyy's fic here; go check that out if you want more spicy Neil content, because it was fantastic!

And thank you and also fuck you to @rysko for dramatically beta reading this in my ear WHILE I WAS TRYING TO MAKE THE HEADER

And now that I'm done thanking every fic writer on tumblr, my parents, the Royal Society for the Prevention of Birds, and Saturn and all of its rings, enjoy your filth!

WC: 4239

He found you outside the back door of Gumshoe, huddled against the concrete step, the cool air of the spring night nipping at the wet tears that streaked your cheeks, the slight breeze stirring a shiver from one fretful limb to the next. The whites of your eyes burned red beneath the faint glow of the lanterns atop the neighbour’s picket fence. It wasn’t exactly the most incognito place to cry your eyes out, but you didn’t have a key to Neil’s store, and it was nearly three in the morning. 

“Hey, I got your call. What’s going on?” A familiar voice broke the pitiful sounds of your sobbing, and the tension of your shoulders eased if only slightly at the mere sound. 

You tried to answer past your sobs, but found that your words came only in hiccups, in broken fragments of your splintered heart, and it didn’t take long for him to sweep an arm around your shoulders, lowering himself to sit beside you on the cold step. Instinctively, you found yourself leaning into his touch, trembling against the warmth of his body. 

Neil was never really great at these sorts of things to begin with, but it certainly didn’t help that his attention was drawn to the low-cut top where a tear streaked down the groove of your breasts, to the fishnets that you’d torn on your way out the door of your boyfriend’s, to the short skirt that rode up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace hem of your panties. 

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and he tried to keep his eyes on the face you so desperately tried to hide with your trembling fingers, for you were ashamed of your unkempt appearance. You must’ve looked like a cheap whore – a mess of one, no less. You couldn’t tell what was more embarrassing: the way you were dressed, like you were begging for attention, or the way your emotions seized you so cruelly that you could scarcely breathe. 

“Hey.” His warm, careful touch landed on your wrist, and as you pulled your fingers from your lashes, they came away black with smudged mascara. “I’m here,” your friend said. “Tell me what happened.”

You could still only speak in hiccups and broken vowels.

“Shhh,” Neil soothed you, fingers running up and down your spine, sending tiny shivers through each nerve as the fabric of your shirt bunched and his skin brushed yours. “Shhh. I’m here.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, your hair spilled in sticky threads over the jacket that, judging by the slight musty scent that lingered in the weave of the corduroy, had probably missed one too many washes. But you didn’t care. You’d come to appreciate the little imperfections about him, the details of his scent that made Neil Neil. Like the waxy tinge that seemed to always cling to his fingers after a long shift of rolling back tapes. Like the silk cream and smoke of the vanilla candle you’d gifted him last week. Like the artificial scent of cheap shaving cream and the slightest hint of blood where he’d nicked himself with the razor. The musk of his sweat and skin, buried beneath all these little things that you’d come to know almost as intimately as your own.

But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. And its unfamiliarity unnerved you.

His other hand came to rest on your knee, hot as fire in the cold of night. He thumbed at the tear in your fishnets and looked at you with bright, concerned eyes, but he used this as an excuse to touch you.

“Did he hurt you?” Neil asked. His hand stayed on your knee. In a way, it felt comforting; it grounded you enough so that, finally, after lulled by the rise and fall of his shoulder and the unique blend of his scent, you could speak.

“Is that cologne?” You wrinkled your nose and drew back to look him in the eye, your tangled hair peeling reluctantly from his corduroy jacket.

A rose blush came upon Neil’s cheeks, and he smiled nervously. He’d been sure to spritz himself with a good helping of it before he left, despite his hurried state. He needed to impress you; ever since you’d started dating that jock from across the street, he’d been trying to find more ways to steal your attention back.

“Yeah, it’s new,” he said, a little flustered, in a way that made your stomach flutter. “I wanted to ask for your opinion on what I should get, but you – well…” His voice cracked a bit as a hint of sadness crept into his tone. “… you’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“It’s awful,” you told him, laughing slightly, and your words seemed to cheer him up; his lips tugged into that playful grin of his again, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his throat.

And then you both fell into silence, and he looked back to your knee, still thumbing the skin where the fabric had torn.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Neil said.

You swallowed, another lump forming in your throat, and when you looked at him, bottom lip in your teeth, reddened eyes pouting, rimmed by your messed mascara, his heart sped in his chest in both fear and arousal. The thought of James even touching you boiled his blood, made his skin crawl and tightened a noose round his neck, but seeing you like this, baring your soul to him with those tear-brimmed eyes and mournfully upturned brows, it made him want you even more.

If he’d been the one to take you out tonight, he would’ve brought you home to his bed, worshipped each inch of your hallowed skin and made love to you like you were the only woman in the world, splayed his fingers across your thighs and parted them like a sea, dropped to his knees and prayed with the hungered strokes of his tongue and lapped at your holy waters.

He’d started reading poetry lately. It had felt right; it was the only thing that seemed to express just how he felt about you. Echoed the words in private like they were gospel; chanted your name from desperate lips as he palmed himself each night – and morning – to your photographs, to the vanilla of the candle that reminded him so much of you, to the fantasy of your sweat-slicked thighs wrapped around his waist, your walls clenched around him as he bucked his hips against your weight and finally let himself go, spilling himself inside you and hearing you moan so sweetly for him from those heavenly lips, feeling his own cum dampen his stomach as you collapsed over him. He always knew you’d be so tight, that you’d fit so perfect around him.

But sitting here, staring at your shivering, impotent form in your torn fishnets and your skimpy attire, he could barely contain the urge to tear open your knees and fuck you against the concrete. It had been so long since he’d even been this close to you; James took up all of your time nowadays, and gone were the late movie nights and stolen games of basketball on the breaks he took so liberally.

He missed you. So much.

And you knew it. You knew it, deep in your chest where the remnants of your heart twisted, still hearing the words, “You’ve been pretty busy lately.”

You shook your head, choking out another sob as shame crept along your skin, and you shivered at its grotesque touch. “No, he didn’t hurt me… not – not in that way.”

You couldn’t look at him; his pearlescent blue eyes and his sun-kissed freckles and his boyish brown locks all fading into memory as you buried your face in his chest, inhaling once more the faint scent of his laundry detergent and the musk of him beneath the shirt that was flipped inside-out but still outlined the blatant logo of Back to the Future. Whether he hadn’t realised he’d put it on backwards or he’d been shy about it, you couldn’t be sure, but it lightened your heart all the same, your sobs turning to giggles.

Neil pulled you closer, his chin resting along the nape of your neck and his hand running up your thigh; you barely noticed how near his hand was to your panties as you tugged at his shirt, nails sinking past the fabric as if to keep him and never let him go.

You regretted all that time you’d spent with James, when you should have been spending it with him instead. Everything felt so much easier with him; your smiles were broader, your laughter more carefree.

But you wanted more – selfish and lovesick, you wanted more than what he already gave you. You needed more than his attention and his friendship.

You needed him to want you.

“I thought that…” You sniffled. “… I thought that James wanted me. I dressed up all… nice… fucking whorish… and I thought tonight was finally the night and that he would’ve… that he would’ve…”

The words twisted in your throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Two hours ago, when you did up your makeup and clothes for your date with James, you’d felt sexy. Powerful, even.

Now, you just felt worthless.

Neil nestled his nose in the crook of your neck, brushed the silk strands of your hair aside, breathed your scent in so deeply that for a moment, the butterflies came back to the pit of your stomach.

“I just want to be wanted,” you admitted, losing it, sobbing uncontrollably into the now-damp shirt that clung to his thin frame. “I just want to be desired. That was the only reason I was with him, Neil. The way he looked at me that day when he came into the store, I…”

With a bitter pang in his chest, Neil remembered that day. The way James had looked at you like you were a piece of meat. The way he’d asked you if had any recommendations on which sports film he should rent and Neil had practically wedged himself between the two of you and started chattering to James about every little piece of trivia he knew about Chariots of Fire and Rocky. How, despite his efforts, James had still gone home with your number as well as the tapes. How you’d come in the next morning with a hickey on your neck and Neil had just known that where James had paused one of the tapes was when your movie night was likely cut short by… things he’d rather not think about ever again.

It should’ve been his couch you’d been curled up on, should’ve been him watching the movie with you. His mark on your neck.

And he would’ve picked something a little more fitting for the mood, too. Something more like Casablanca or Sin City. It was as if James didn’t even have to try to get you drooling over him. What was so special about him, anyway?

I wish I was special, Neil thought.

Neil’s grip on you tightened at the memory, nails digging in to the flesh of your thigh in a way that stirred a little gasp from your lungs, huffing against his collarbone as you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Y/N.”  His breath caught in his throat, and he reluctantly pulled from your neck to look you in the eye, locks of messy hair falling across his forehead and his eyes half-lidded. His fingers ghosted up your thigh, and you blinked past the sharp mint of his mouthwash – it burned your eyes slightly, but you didn’t care. You were so close to him, your breaths became one, a few threads of his hair tickling your cheeks and his nose brushing yours.

“Neil,” you breathed, the slightest of smiles tugging at your lip as your heart thudded between your legs, dangerously close to his fingers. Warmth spread across each fevered limb, taking you somewhere past the cold concrete and bitter chill of the wind, somewhere away from the graffiti-painted alley and the reek of broken booze bottles. Somewhere safe, and warm, and thrilling all at once.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Neil’s voice cracked around the words, a nervous laugh huffing against your fluttering lashes as his freckled cheeks darkened another shade of red. The hand that wasn’t between your legs played with a lock of your hair, twirling it in his finger but still supporting you beneath a quivering arm.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe this was real.

He had to have been playing some sick joke, right?

But the whimper that fell from his lips was very real, as his nails dug into your flesh again and he tugged you closer, his hips arching upward against your outer thigh.

“You look more than nice. You’re so fucking hot in this skirt, in anything you wear. That asshole is fucking blind,” he breathed, fingers grazing your panties and landing over your hipbone, testing the waters more and more as he tried not to rock his growing arousal too obviously against you.

But you noticed. You noticed the way his cock hardened and twitched beneath your weight; you noticed how even despite his body trembling from his attempts to resist his primal urges, his hips still gave little bucks upward, seeking friction. Seeking the heat that flared between your thighs, that ached for him so desperately that it was all you could do not to return the favour.

He couldn’t take it anymore. Staring into those gorgeous, bright eyes. Looking up at him with anything but innocence. So he scooped both hands around your ass, squeezing the flesh and lace and tugging you properly onto his lap with an alluring squeal tearing from your full lips.

“I want you, Y/N.” His hot breath pooled at your collarbone as he trailed wet, sloppy kisses along your jaw, your neck, and your lips parted in another gasp, back arching and thighs clenching around his waist as you ground wet panties against the bulge in his trousers.

“I fucking need you,” he whined, nipping like a needy puppy at the delicate skin of your neck. “Always have.” Another kiss. “Ever since I first saw you. Long before James.” A possessive growl stirred from his throat at that, the flare of dominance sending a jolt through your core.

“Neil, I – oh my God.” A moan broke your words as his fingers moved up your spine and his teeth grazed your collarbone, hovering over your pulse point.

“Fuck, baby. Say that again. Just like that.” His fingers began rolling your shirt up over the lip of your breasts, the sight enough to make him whine again in need. He couldn’t help himself from groping you, squeezing your breasts and rolling one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Bending his neck to trail more sloppy kisses down your torso, they were his next destination.

“Oh my – Neil. Neil, I – “ You had so much to tell him, so much you needed off your chest, but his hips bucked sharply against you at the sound of his name moaned so beautifully, a low groan in his throat and his cock digging slightly inside your heat, the fabric of your panties scraping almost painfully against your walls.

“Please, Y/N, please don’t make me stop. Please let me keep touching you like this. I wanna worship you.” His hot breath shattered against a pert nipple. “Wanna fucking prove to you how much I want you.”

For a few moments, you were rendered speechless, mind whirring like the wheels on a VHS. Everything was happening so fast, and the warmth of his touch was seeping into you like honey, inundating you in a sort of comforting flame.

He could almost smell the vanilla of the candle wick burning.

You left nail marks down his chest where you clawed at the collar of his shirt, but he didn’t care. He sucked a nipple past his teeth and moaned around the taste of you, the sound so filthy that your eyes nearly rolled back in your skull as your parted lips tipped to the heavens. His name outlined by their perfect shape.

Reality came crashing down around you as you jumped, another squeal leaving your tongue as his teeth bit at your nipple and pain shot along your nerve endings.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, chest heaving, looking up at you with reverent eyes. “I didn’t mean to, I – “

You cupped his chin in your palm and shook your head. “No, Neil. I’m sorry.” A tear streaked down your cheek, beaded on your jawline. “I’m so, so sorry.” You were beginning to sob again, and his brow furrowed in concern, thumb beginning to trace small circles along your spine. “I’m sorry I abandoned you for James, I didn’t… I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know you felt this way, I – I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he told you, his words sinking into your skin like a warm tide. With one hand, he brushed the tear from your jaw and wove his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer. “Just let me keep touching you. Please.”

When you didn’t respond for a moment, caught up in the way his blue eyes seemed to hollow with a certain hunger, the way his chest rose and fell beneath the bare flesh of your stomach, he uttered that word again:

“Please.”

You smiled, elated and giddy with joy, blood pounding with arousal, and kissed him, threading your own fingers into the fluffy locks of his hair.

Another tear streaked across your lips as they met his, and you tasted like salt and vanilla, slightly waxy from your chap-stick but the sweetest thing he’d tasted nonetheless. At first, he was embarrassed by the noises he made, the way he’d accidentally called you “baby” because he’d always wanted to do so, but he melted beneath you like butter. Nothing mattered anymore except the fact that you were finally his, that you were in his arms and grinding against his cock.

Neil broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside somewhere on the concrete – he would buy you a new one. His hands flattened against your back and pulled you flush to his chest, taking any excuse he could to hear that little squeal you made each time.

“Please, baby, please let me be inside you,” he whined, biting his lip as he stared up at you with those powder-blue eyes. Nails dug into your skin. Hips bucked against yours.

Your heart soared with his words, his worship, his want; you’d never been this ecstatic in your whole life. Part of you wanted to keep teasing him, make him beg, while another part of you ached to feel him buried to the hilt inside you.

“Patience, Neil,” you giggled, as you undid his trousers. You worked them down to his knees and your eyes widened as your hand brushed his cock, bare and springing flush against his stomach. You hadn’t expected him to not wear boxers.

Neil smiled sheepishly up at you, eyes still lidded, mouth still panting out a fevered breath. “I was in a rush getting dressed. I…” His cheeks reddened, and there was something so cute about how pathetic he looked in that moment. “You wanna know how much I want you, Y/N? I was touching myself thinking of you when you called.”

Creep, some voice in the back of his head hissed.

You bit your lip to suppress a moan, trying to ward off thoughts of Neil stroking himself to you, finishing to the thought of you. Oh, how you wished you could have witnessed the sight.

“Did you come?” you asked, a devious grin pulling at your lips as you took him in your hand, massaging a bead of pre-cum into his sensitive flesh.

His eyes fluttered, and he shook his head, his words coming out as a breathy whine,

“No, I promise. I didn’t come. Not yet.”

“Will you?” You dipped your head to let your words tickle his neck, your grip on him tightening.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Yes, yes, oh God, I will. Fuck, baby. Fuck, gonna come if you don’t stop that, need to come inside you, please, please…”

His mutterings trailed off into a low hiss of a whine, and your movements stilled, dragging him to his peak and letting him teeter at the edge as you both caught your breaths, chest heaving and a cold chill racing down your sweat-slicked back, thighs trembling around him.

“You sure you can handle this?” you purred against his ear before pulling back once more to witness the shivering mess you’d made him, priding yourself in your accomplishment. Lining his cock up with your entrance, the fabric of your panties scraped his tip teasingly as you slotted them to the side.

Neil looked up at you like you were some kind of goddess, his breathing coming laboured, his throat stripped of words. The dazed, blissful look he gave you was all the answer you needed. But you wanted to reap him of every last praise he had.

“Use your words, Neil,” you giggled, smirking.

“Ah…” His lips parted, near soundless. You watched intently as they formed the word “Please”.

You almost felt bad for him.

But it wasn’t pity that brought your hips down around him, slowly, teasingly, savouring the stretch of him against your walls and the fullness in your belly, but rather, your own need.

Neil’s head rolled back against the brick wall, blood welling at his lip where he bit it to keep himself from toppling over his peak; he nearly did it to himself when he bucked his hips upward, burying himself inside you, making you whimper at the pain that blended so sordidly with the pleasure. Your fingers tugged at his hair, and your nails grazed his scalp, and every little sensation sent him into overdrive. He used these little things to ground himself, as you had his tangled scents; he focused on how smooth your stomach felt against his own, his shirt hiking up so that you were skin to skin; he focused on the noises you made, huffing and whimpering, as you began to ride him; he focused on the softness of the breast that he cupped in his hand. Tried not to think about how you felt better than he’d imagined, how you clenched so tightly around his cock that he was almost pushed out each time you elevated your hips, but were so wet for him that he slid back inside so seamlessly each time.

“Neil,” you moaned as you fucked yourself on his cock, breast bouncing beneath his thumb, skirt fluttering around the bareness of his thighs. “Neil, fuck. Fuck.”

“Baby, I’m s—sorry. I’m gonna…”

You yelped again as pain shot deep inside your core, his hips bucking against yours with a violence you hadn’t known sweet Neil from the VHS store to possess, bottoming out inside you as his nails dug into the now-abused skin of your back and pulling you close, so close you were panting over his shoulder and his breath shattered against your ear. The hand that had been cupping your breast shot up to cradle your head, petting your hair.

He held you to him so tight, you didn’t think he’d ever let go. And you couldn’t have been happier.

Warmth spilled around his cock, sticky against your thighs, painting your insides white. You shuddered around him, balling his hair into a fist and digging your own, sharper nails, against his back.

“I didn’t mean it to be over so fast,” he mumbled into your neck. “I just… you’re so… fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

“So have I,” you breathed. You practically hugged each other, shivering in the night air but content in each other’s warmth. “Don’t worry.” Pulling away slightly, you smiled down at him, cheeks flushing bright red. “If anything, it… it’s endearing.”

“Really?” he chuffed out a laugh.

“It…” you looked down, unable to meet that crystalline gaze. “It makes me feel wanted.” You pecked a quick kiss to his jaw, and could’ve sworn you saw love in his eyes when you pulled away.

“God, you’re perfect.” His voice broke again as his lips sought yours, and his breath hitched in his chest when the action caused you to rock your hips forward, a new sensation he’d never felt before buzzing along his skin. His mouth hung open and you laid kisses to his lips, his jaw, the Adam’s apple that bobbed along his throat. He felt his cock stiffen again inside you, already eager for Round Two.

“I should take you home,” he murmured, hands running up and down your sides. “You must be so cold.” As if just realising that he still had his jacket on, Neil shrugged it off in haste and wrapped the heavy material around your shoulders. A chill ran down your spine, as the material was damp with sweat – you smiled at how predictably forgettable he was when he had a woman on his lap, just as you’d imagined –, but his scent soothed you.

Though you were cold, it was a small sacrifice to make to stay here, with him buried so deep inside you that you felt dizzy in the head. Depleted of your energy and sinking into his warmth, you smirked, and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“I was thinking of just staying like this a while,” you admitted.

“Whatever makes you happy,” he breathed, hugging you even tighter. “Whatever you want.”

A.N. Sorry if this was a bit rough, guys. I smashed this one out the other day because I was tired of my writer's block.

I actually laid into some themes that I was planning on using for a Dark!Neil fic based on the song "Creep" which I don't know when I'll get around to writing, but let me know if you guys would like to hear more about the idea for the series or are interested.

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

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[lale-txt]

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 (𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐝𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬

♫ Nilüfer Yanya - Method Actor

Gonna miss her when she's gone I was simply lost too long Gonna scream out there's no meaning Spit my teeth out as you're bleeding

✰ 𝐜𝐰: y/n is having a panic attack in this one

⭅ back to m.list

✽ 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭?

Y/N is very bad at asking for help so her telling the gc that she's panicking a little (meaning: A LOT) is huge and made everyone spring into action

she will probably never travel to Aruba in this lifetime

Ushiwaka still texts her for her birthday and reads her food blog, he also got her some of Tendou's chocolates once for her to review (5/5 stars)

Makki is the designated driver of the Tokyo group because he is still jobless in this universe and his love language is acts of service

the car belongs to Yukie's granny and the roommates share it

Kita did NOT reply to Suna's question but Suna will get smacked by Aran next time they see each other again. Atsumu too, just because

whenever Y/N travels she makes sure to leave enough pre-cooked meals for the roomies in the fridge & freezer because she doesn't want them to eat conbini food for days

Y/N is saving up to get a NANA themed tattoo someday soon

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@brithedemonspawn @yuminako @gigiiiiislife @notverymarley @wyrcan @krissiekris

send me an ask or dm to be added (or removed LOL no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

[redroomreflections]

Sorry For Your Loss

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: What if WLWD met TLH but even more tragic?

Note: I was fighting my sleep to write this. Enjoy and don't hate me lol

Warning: Super angst, mention of drunk driving, major character death.

ONLY READ IF YOU LIKE PAIN

Note: I’m too excited for my flight in a couple of hours. I was itching to write when this came into my head. 

The house feels suffocatingly quiet, an eerie stillness settling over every room. The absence of laughter and playful shouts from the children creates a palpable void that echoes in Natasha’s heart. It’s too quiet. The walls, usually vibrant with the sounds of life, now seem to absorb the sorrow that hangs in the air like a heavy fog. The television flickers in the background, casting an unnatural glow across the room, but no one is watching. It’s just noise—an attempt to fill the silence with anything, but it fails miserably. The news anchors drone on, their voices muted by the weight of grief that envelops them.

The clock ticks ominously in the background, reminding everyone that the funeral is only an hour away. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of fresh flowers and the faint smell of coffee that no one seems interested in drinking. The cars would be arriving soon. Six children and a host of in-laws—how would they all fit into the designated family car?

Chase, your older brother, paces restlessly near the door, glancing toward the driveway. “Where’s Natasha? We need to get going,” he mutters, frustration seeping into his voice. No one has a real answer. They can feel the tension thickening around them, a shared anxiety that clings to the group like a shroud. Melina rises from her seat and walks toward the master bedroom, her hand poised to knock when Natasha emerges from the house's shadows. Her face is fresh and unreadable, an expression honed by years of practice in concealing emotions. The light from the doorway casts a soft glow around her, but her eyes betray nothing—no hint of the storm roiling within.

“Is everyone ready?” she asks, her voice steady yet distant.

Melina pauses, taken aback by Natasha’s calm demeanor. “We’ve been waiting for you. The car will be here any minute,” She replies, her tone softening. Natasha nods and walks past her, her steps silent against the hardwood floor.

"Where are the boys and Paige?" Natasha takes a headcount of the children in front of her. There are several but a few of hers are missing. She spots Cara cuddled into her Nana's side.

"They're upstairs," Peyton announces lowly. "They're refusing to come down."

"What do you mean they're refusing?" Natasha's eyebrow quirks.

"Exactly what it sounds like, Tasha," Yelena pipes up from her spot on the couch.

Natasha narrows her eyes at her sister and turns on her heels, climbing the stairs with determination. She ignores the pictures lining the walls. She doesn't bother looking at your photos. It hurts too much. The house feels cavernous and hauntingly silent, the absence of laughter amplifying the thud of her heart as she approaches the children's rooms. She can feel the tension coiling in her chest.

At the top of the stairs, she glances down the hallway, her mind racing with thoughts of what you would say in moments like this—words of encouragement, perhaps a reminder that it was okay to feel vulnerable. But today, she is the rock, and she cannot falter.

“Boys! Paige!” she calls out, her voice firm yet gentle. “You need to come downstairs. It’s time.” She waits, hoping for some sign of movement, a response that might break through the cloud of grief surrounding them.

Silence.

“Please!” she adds, softer this time, her heart aching for them. She thinks of how you would have approached this, with warmth and understanding, coaxing them out with stories or gentle humor. But those tools feel out of reach for her right now. The air in Paige’s room is thick. Natasha stands at the doorway, taking in the sight before her: Luke, just three years old, is perched on the edge of the bed, his tiny legs swinging rhythmically as he absentmindedly fidgets with his loose tie. Beside him, James, eight and usually so full of energy, sits slumped against the wall, staring blankly at the floor, his tie hanging loosely in his lap.

Paige sits in the center, the picture of a little girl trying to be brave. She wears a sleek black dress that flares slightly at the waist, her hair intricately styled in braids adorned with delicate black clips. But it’s the hot pink sneakers on her feet that draw Natasha’s gaze, a stark contrast to the somber attire they all wear. They were the last pair you had bought for her, a small gift meant to brighten her day, and now they feel like a painful reminder of the joy that has been snuffed out.

Natasha's heart aches at the sight, a wave of grief crashing over her. She wants to break down and cry, to let the tears flow freely, but she holds herself together, knowing she must be strong for her children. The weight of their loss presses heavily on her chest, and she feels a knot tightening in her throat.

"Hey, what's going on?" She kneels before them.

“We are not going,” Luke answers first, his tiny voice filled with defiance, his brows furrowing as he crosses his arms tightly over his chest.

“No. We are staying,” Paige declares with an earnestness that stabs at Natasha's heart, her small body taut with determination.

James pulls at the collar of his button-up shirt, a look of sheer discomfort painted on his face. “I’m not wearing this,” he complains, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“Why not?” Natasha asks, her voice cracking just a bit, betraying the emotion she’s trying so hard to suppress. “You all look so beautiful.”

James shakes his head vigorously, clearly unconvinced. “I don’t want to look beautiful,” he replies, his frustration spilling over. “I want to stay here!”

“We don’t want to say goodbye to Mommy,” Paige supplies, her voice trembling as she fights back tears. The admission hangs in the air, heavy and painful.

“No, no, no,” Luke utters his agreement, kicking his feet against the bed, each thump echoing his dissent. “I want Mommy to come home!”

Natasha feels the tears pricking at her eyes as their innocent cries pierce through her heart. “I know, I know,” she whispers, her breath hitching. “But this is how we show her we love her. By saying goodbye.”

"But why?" Luke asks, tears streaming down his face as he becomes increasingly upset.

Natasha sighs, her heart breaking for her young son. "Because that's what happens when we love people. Sometimes, we have to say goodbye. Remember where I told you Mommy is?"

Luke sniffles. "With the angels."

"That's right, baby. She's in a place with lots of love. But we still have to say goodbye." Natasha strokes his cheek softly.

"Will she be okay?" Paige looks at Natasha with wide eyes, her chin quivering as she struggles to keep her composure.

Natasha smiles weakly, her eyes misty. "Of course, she will. And we will too. Because she'll always be with us, right here," she places her hand on her heart, a gesture that was so you, and one they were familiar with.

"I already lost two Mommies now," Paige says solemnly. "It makes me sad."

Natasha takes a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "I know, my love, but your mom will never be gone. She's always going to be right here with us." She taps her chest again. "If you really don't want to go I won't force you. I will, um, I will see if we can get one of the neighbors to come and stop in. Whatever makes you happy. Where's Charlie?"

"She's already downstairs," Paige says quietly, her shoulders slumping.

"Okay," Natasha nods. "I, um, gosh. I'm sorry. I don't really know what to say right now." She admits.

"But you always know what to say?" James tilts his head. "Are you sad too?"

Natasha swallows, fighting back tears that threaten to spill. “I am,” she replies, her voice shaking slightly. “I would like to say goodbye to your mommy because it brings me closure. It gives me peace.” The words feel heavy on her tongue, laden with the weight of the reality they all face.

James looks thoughtful, his small brows knitting together. “Will it help you feel better?” he asks, searching her face for answers.

“I hope so,” Natasha says gently, placing her hand on his leg. “It’s important for us to honor her and remember all the good times we shared. It’s okay to be sad, but it’s also okay to remember the happy moments.”

“Like when she taught me how to ride my bike?” Luke pipes up, his voice brightening just a bit. “And we went so fast?”

“Exactly!” Natasha encourages, her heart swelling with love for her children. “And all the times she read you stories before bed. Kissed your booboos. We can share those memories today.”

Paige perks up slightly at the mention of stories, a small flicker of interest sparking in her eyes. “She always made the best pancakes, too,” she adds, her voice softening.

Natasha nods, grateful for the direction of the conversation. “Yes! And how she would let you pick the toppings. Do you remember that one time she made a huge stack and put ice cream and strawberries on top?”

“Yeah!” Luke giggles, his laughter a small, bright note in the heavy atmosphere. “And then I spilled syrup all over my shirt!”

"Exactly," Natasha breathes. "She's the reason we have all these memories. It's not goodbye forever. I promise. And she will always watch over us. It will never be goodbye." She reassures. "Just a see you later."

Paige seems to think about it, her expression contemplative. She looks down at her pink sneakers and then back up at her mother, a question forming on her lips.

"Can we tell everyone a memory at the funeral?" she asks quietly, her voice wavering.

"Of course, you can," Natasha says. "Everyone will love to hear."

"Good. Because Mommy loved stories."

"She did."

"How about you go and find your sisters and I'll help your brothers finish getting dressed," Natasha suggests. "The car should be here soon."

"Okay, Mama," Paige slips off the bed and makes her way out the door.

Natasha takes a deep, shaky breath, exhaling slowly as she turns her attention to her sons. She does Luke first and he doesn't put up a fight. He's quiet the entire time. Her youngest is still processing the grief.

Natasha moves to James. "Hey, kid. Let's get you looking good for Mommy. Do you want your black shoes or not?"

"Can I wear the ones Mommy bought for me too?"

"Of course, baby."

"The spiderman ones?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll go get them."

James runs off to the closet and Natasha turns her attention to Luke. "We're almost ready. How are you feeling?"

"Sad."

"I know."

“Mama, is Mommy sad?” Luke asks, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes.

“What do you mean? Is she sad where she is?” Natasha asks, her voice gentle but steady, hoping to guide him through his thoughts.

He nods slowly. “She probably misses us so much. That’s what she always says when you go on vacation.”

Natasha feels a lump rise in her throat at his words, the reality of your absence cutting deep. “You’re right,” she replies, brushing a thumb over Luke’s cheek. “I know she misses you. She loved you so much, and I know she wishes she could be here right now.”

Luke looks down, the sadness etching deeper into his young features. “Will she come back?” he asks, his voice trembling.

Natasha swallows hard, knowing that this is one of those moments she wishes she could shield him from the harsh truth. “No, sweetheart. She won’t come back. But she’ll always be with us in our hearts, in our memories. And we can talk to her whenever we want. We just have to think of her and remember all the love she gave us.”

Luke furrows his brow, contemplating her words. “Like when I think about her making pancakes?”

“Exactly,” Natasha encourages, her heart swelling with pride for her son’s understanding. “You can always remember those moments. They’re special.”

Just then, James returns, a pair of Spiderman shoes in hand. “Can I wear these?” he asks, excitement creeping back into his voice despite the heavy atmosphere.

“Of course, baby,” Natasha smiles, relieved to see a spark of joy return to his eyes. “Let’s get you looking sharp for Mommy.”

As she helps James with his shoes, Natasha reflects on the gravity of the day ahead.

"Mama, why do there have to be drunk drivers?"

"I don't know, buddy. I really don't." Natasha attempts to focus on getting his feet in his shoes.

"That's what killed Mommy."

"Yeah. It is."

"I don't understand."

"There's a lot in this world we will never understand."

"Why?"

"Sometimes, life is cruel. And unfair." Natasha begins. "Sometimes people make bad choices that they have to live with."

"What if they can't live with it?"

"Then they can't change it. No time machine can turn back the clock. All we can do is remember your Mommy for the kind, loving, warm, funny, and brilliant woman she was." Natasha says.

"And how much she loved us."

"Yeah. She really did. And she was proud of all of us."

"Did we make her happy?"

"Very," Natasha nods. "Now, are we all ready?"

"Yes," James takes a deep breath just like you practiced.

"Good," Natasha exhales. "Let's go then. We can't miss Mommy's funeral."

Luke is the first to grab her hand. He squeezes her fingers tightly, the small gesture conveying a depth of emotion that words could never express. James joins in, holding onto her other hand as they descend the stairs together.

"I did Charlie's hair," Cara offers as they meet at the bottom of the stairs. "She was a little upset about it but I did it."

"Thank you," Natasha murmurs, squeezing her daughter's shoulder.

The doorbell rings, breaking the fragile calm.

"It's here," Melina announces, her voice thick with emotion. "Time to say goodbye."

As they gather by the front door, a heavy silence settles over the family, the enormity of the moment weighing heavily on their shoulders.

Natasha feels her heart racing, the tension coiling in her chest like a spring, ready to snap. She feels an overwhelming sense of emptiness settles in her chest. The warmth of Luke and James's small hands in hers provides some comfort, but it feels inadequate against the crushing weight of grief. Even with her family surrounding her, she feels more alone than she ever did when she was a spy or on the run, moments that, in hindsight, felt almost thrilling compared to this void.

The door swings open, and they step outside into the cool air. The family car awaits. Melina moves to help the younger ones, but Natasha remains still for a moment, staring into the distance as a rush of memories floods her mind—laughing with you in the kitchen, planning birthday parties, marking anniversaries that now feel like distant dreams.

Her heart aches at the thought of the anniversary circled in big red on the kitchen calendar, a day they had planned to celebrate together. Now, it serves as a painful reminder of the life that was supposed to be, a future now out of reach. The promise she made to you—to keep your family together—echoes in her mind, a vow she knows she must honor despite the challenges ahead.

“I can’t do this alone,” Natasha whispers to herself, though the words feel heavy and hollow. She hasn’t slept in her own bed since you passed; the sheets still smell like you, and the thought of facing that emptiness alone is unbearable. Her appetite has vanished, save for the muffin Cara brought her this morning—an attempt to nourish herself that felt almost futile.

“Are you okay, Mama?” Luke asks, his innocent concern snapping her back to the present.

Natasha forces a smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Just thinking about how much your Mommy loved all of you.”

James looks up at her, his face serious. “We can make her proud today, right?”

“Yes,” Natasha responds, her heart swelling for what felt like the millionth time today. “We will make her proud.”

As they approach the car, Natasha feels the weight of her family behind her, their collective grief palpable but also a source of strength. She knows she has to find a way to keep moving forward, not just for herself but for all six of the children depending on her.

mentioning that this is completely au and purely au and not real.

[tinkerbelle05]

Maybe We Will Get Through This Together Part 2

Characters: Jaime Reyes x Fem!reader

Genre: Angst, hopeful ending

Summary: You find out that you pregnant while Jaime is at college and, you have yet to tell him.

Warnings: alludes to past sexual experiences, talks of pregnancy, adoption, and abortion, talks about financial insecurity, arguing, lying, mentions of miscarriage

Special thanks to @scryarchives once again for their help!

Part 1 (you should probably read this lol)

-

You took a deep breath, “Jaime, I'm pregnant.”

He laughed, “What? What do you mean you're pregnant?”

You swallowed, “I am not joking. I've done all the tests. I am definitely pregnant.”

“We should give this time some privacy,” Nana proposed, and the rest of the family exited the restaurant and left you two alone.

Jaime blinked several times, trying to wrap his mind around this. You felt bad, this was a lot of information in just a few short moments.

“Um…um okay, how far along you? Wait…wait a minute,” he said suddenly with a confused look on his face. “How…how are you pregnant? We haven't had sex in months?”

Right, that part. You grimaced at this and started to explain yourself to the best of you ability.

“Um, okay so I’ve known I was pregnant for awhile. Um for about 3 months,” you admitted and hung your head in shame.

At the time, it seemed like a good idea. To hold off telling Jaime but right now, it didn’t feel like a good idea.

“So you lied?” Jaime asked bluntly and his eyes burning into your soul. “You lied, to my face. For months?”

Tears started to prickle into your eyes as you looked away from him, “I’m so, so sorry Jaime. I…I thought…”

“You thought it would be a good idea to lie to my face! To hide something like this from me?! How could you do that?! Why would you do that?! Every face time, every text message. You knew and just didn’t tell me,” Over the loud yelling and scathing glare, you could see his eyes becoming glossy.

Saying sorry was all you could do. The confidence you had that this was the right choice was completely shattered when you saw how upset Jaime was.

And wasn’t that just cruel irony. You chose to do something to make sure Jaime didn’t get hurt, but you ended up doing it anyway.

Jaime held his face in his hands, taking deep breathes to calm himself down.

“How far along?” He asked again.

“4 months,” you answered.

“4 months? I…I missed that much,” he mutter under his breath, lost in thought.

“Jaime, really I’m sorry. I….I just didn’t know how to tell you, and you were busy with school so I didn’t want to bother you,” you started rambling off an explanation but no matter what you said, it still didn’t seem right.

He looked at you in shock, “Bother me? How…how would telling me that your pregnant with my child is bothering me? How?!”

“Well you worked really hard to get into that college, and I thought knowing I was pregnant could distract you. And I didn’t want that so…”

Jaime looked at her, “So you lied to me for months because you decided that it would be best for me? Do you know how messed up that sounds?”

You sniffed, “Yes, I do, and I’m so, so, sorry.”

Jaime cleared his throat, “Well…is the baby alright?”

You numbly nodded. Jaime had a change the topic of the conversation, asking questions about the baby. But you could still feel the tension simmering around you, and could tell that he's obviously still mad.

After that you two walled home in utter silence. When you came home, the questions on the family’s face was obvious but they didn't speak it. Jaime didn't speak either, a small greeting and he went to his room.

God, where were you going to sleep tonight?

You don't think Jaime would ever kick you out but well you don't know exactly how he would react. You both had your fair share of arguments but they were never silent.

Cold, even.

For the next few weeks, you and Jaime co-existed in silence. You would sleep in the same bed with your backs turned to each other. You would eat the same dinner table but never talked directly to each other.

You were fixing your hair and getting your clothes on when Jamie entered the room. It was awkward staring and then silence, as usual.

“Where are you going?” he asked, noting your appearance.

“I have a doctor’s appointment,” you answered. You looked at the open dresser, none of shirts would fit you right now.

Jaime’s would though.

Before you would take the shirt without asking, but with how your relationship is, it felt like an overstep.

“Um, Jaime?” you turned around to see him getting dressed too. “What are you doing?”

“Going to the appointment with you,” he answered. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You winced, “Well…I didn’t think you would want to go with. Oh, and can I wear one of your shirts? None of my fit.”

Jaime stared at you, “Of course I want to go with, it’s my kid too. And since when have you ever asked for my shirts?”

You were struggling to come up with an answer, you hoped it was a rhetorical one but Jaime had an expectant gaze on you.

Jaime sighed when you didn’t speak and came closer to you, “Listen, I’m…I’m still angry with you, at you. But I still love and care for you, that will never change.”

You sniffed and hastily wiped your eyes, “Hormones,” you said and he nodded.

You quickly got dressed and you both went to your doctor’s appointment together.

You were nervous but excited, like you were for every appointment. You hoped for good news but always prepared yourself for the worst.

Though it was nice to have someone to go with you this time, maybe it’ll stop all of those judgmental stares that people think are not noticeable.

You settled into the bed while Jaime sat on the chair, holding your bag. It was quiet in the room and you didn’t know how to break the silence.

Even though Jaime expressed he still loved for you, it was still rather awkward.

The sonographer walked with a small smile on her face and a cheerful voice, “Hi, how are we doing today?”

Both you and Jaime answered a “Fine” and the woman sat in the chair.

“And who are you?” She asked Jaime.

“Oh, I’m Jaime Reyes, her boyfriend. Nice to meet you,” he introduced himself and shook her hand.

She smiled, “Nice to meet you too, my name’s Katie.”

You’ve been through this process before, you answered all of her questions on autopilot and didn’t even flinched when the cold goop was placed on your belly.

You saw Jaime intensively watching though, his eyes never leaving you or the multiple instruments.

“And here’s the fetus,” Katie pointed to the screen, using her finger she pointed out all of the features that your baby had.

You smiled softly and felt yourself tearing up, you looked at Jaime and saw him staring at the screen in wonder.

“Would you like to see the gender?” She asked.

“We can find that out this early?” Jaime marveled with hopeful eyes.

Eyes you haven’t seen in a while, it made you happy.

She nodded and moved the joystick around a bit and then stopped with a quiet gasped. “There, your having a little boy.”

“Really?” Jaime asked in a quiet voice and glossy eyes.

Katie smiles and the rest of the appointment goes by smoothly. She prints out copies of the ultrasound for you guys and soon you left the doctor’s office.

“God, he’s beautiful.” Jaime said, touching the picture delicately.

You chucked, “You can’t even see most of the baby’s features.”

“They are our baby. They’re gonna be beautiful, no matter what,” Jaime said and you smiled at him.

You felt things were getting better, slowly but surely.

Of course, it hurts not having Jaime’s complete trust but, well you made your own bed and now you must lie in it.

You just hoped that one day Jaime’s trust you again. You’ll do whatever it takes and wait as long as it takes to gain it back.

Maybe, you’ll get through this.

-

Sorry this is a day late lol.

Like and Reblog if you like to! It helps a lot.

Tags: @marmar-c, @renaimel, @asvterias, @alexa-33, @dcnerd98, @allthingsvicf, @losingmywayyyy, @nightwingandhissquad, @wintersdeadd, @sodacatz, @louiesdaydream, @zerosinterweb, @conicoroahre, @1clownette1, @fullsiinner, @bluecray0nn, @asvterias, @shslsimpette, @starii-light, @writing-fanics, @alienstardust, @silvermagnolias, @flyingmushroomss, @sarahbutnot, @theblackestvalkyrie

Taglist & Masterlist & Anonlist & Reqs Info

[silliestgoobr]

Okay so with the resurgence of my street/ aphmau becoming more popular again with the new confirmed season of my street under way, the freaky little worms in my brain keep pestering me to make this post like this.

(Warnings: none really. Travis kinda freaky?? But not for serious. Also, one small mention of vlyad and the penjamin)

Rip (insert character) they would have loved (this thing)

Rip Kawaii Chan u would have loved booktok

Rip Cadenza u would have loved dress to impress

Rip Sasha u would have loved shoplifting from big corporations

Rip Garroth u would have loved being the little spoon

Rip Travis u would have loved Megan thee stallion

Rip Gene u would have loved 12$ bottomless margarita nights at Applebee's

Rip Genes liver u would have hated 12$ bottomless margarita nights at Applebee's

Rip Rylan u would have loved five nights at Freddy's monopoly

Rip Slyvana u would have loved life 360

Rip Ziana u would have loved BRAT 💚

Rip Blaze u would have loved pre work out

Rip Laurence u would have loved the newest season of love island

Rip Dante u would have loved young gravy

Rip aphmau you would have loved 2020 anime tiktok

Rip Zane u would have loved the unicorn cat from the Lego movie

Rip lucinda u would have loved Astrology Cafe

Rip Zenix u would have loved bitching about the new gen 4 monster high designs

Rip Katelyn u would have loved Drew Afualo

Rip Ein u would have loved shitty toxic alpha male podcasts

Rip Aaron u would have loved saying "no more Mr nice guy...😈🐺‼️"

Rip Dottie u would have loved early 2017 roblox tycoons

Rip Daniel u would have loved being a soft boy in 2020

Rip Vlyad u would have loved re chargeable cart batteries

Rip Teony u would have loved Chappel Roan

Rip Travis u would have loved taking the BDSM test at sleepovers

Rip Nicole u would have loved calling yourself a misandrist to make shitty men upset

Rip Eric u would have loved YouTube shorts

Okay guys sorry if I missed anyone but my brain is literal mush and I have no one to share my silly little aphmau headcannons with and it's driving me crazy so I'm posting it here lol!! Lmk if anyone wants more... I have so many Kawaii Chan/Nana/KC ones bc she's so :3

RELEASE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF THE HYPERFIXATION I HAD IN 2016 I BEG!!1!1!1!!!

[hollowfairybabybat]

hehe thinkin about what if instead of signing the permission slip for being able to take the class dad doesnt n instead saying they wont teach it right n only dad can 🥺

What do you need sex ed for baby girl? You don't need to go to school on those days, stay home and let daddy teach you about that stuff

yk what youre right 😇

[toomuchracket]

Thinking of any girl dad matty at a baba’s first dance recital… baby girl in a little pink tutu being excited/nervous to preform for everyone and now I’m crying

i could write a whole fic about amy being a total diva about her first dance show but actually i wanna switch universes and talk about the sweetest tmr baby of them all, miss phoebe. all your girls dance from the time they're tiny, because it's both a good way to make friends and also teaches them a lot about coordination and bodily awareness and discipline and teamwork, but your youngest is the one who enjoys it most of all - every week, she loves putting on her swishy little practice dress and her ballet shoes and going to class, eagerly showing you and matty and her sisters what she's learned that week to great applause from all of you (matty especially. he is such a dance dad. in a wholesome way). she's four when her first recital showcase thing happens, and it's literally all she can talk about for weeks; like, she begs you or matty or denise to let her try her pretty costume on, to put her hair in a little bun and let her wear lipgloss and glitter, and it's really adorable how excited she is. when you get to the theatre on the day of the show, though, she's suddenly shy, clinging to your hand as you walk through the seats to go backstage and looking up at it with complete trepidation, and even when you're in the dressing room with her getting her ready she's a lot quieter than usual - mind you, she makes it through the dress rehearsal of her dance just fine, albeit slightly reserved in her performance, but she just RUNS and clings to you once it's done like "that was scary, mummy". while you console her like "you were so brave for even doing that, munchkin! you'll be alright for the show, though, yeah? to show your dance to daddy and dyl and lena and nana and everyone?", which she says she will be, you text matty to tell him phoebe had a little bit of stage fright, and he replies like "oh 🥺 i'll talk to her". and he does, when he picks you both up to grab some dinner before the show - he takes her hand and walks a bit ahead of you with her, and says "a little birdy told me you were feeling a little bit nervous, darling. s'that true?", and she nods, and matty crouches to be level with her and says "you know what? it's normal, munchkin, i get like that when i go onstage too. but you know what helps me?", and phoebe's like "what?", and he smiles like "the fact i've got my friends there. uncle ross and uncle adam are beside me, uncle george and uncle jamie are there when i turn around, and there's always friends cheering me on in the crowd. and you have that too! you've got lucy and paloma and kira dancing with you, and me and mummy and everyone in the crowd - just think that you're having fun with your friends like you do in class, and you'll be fine, alright? now, c'mere, my brave girl, give me a cuddle". phoebe perks up a bit after that, and the show goes so well!! she's so cute in her little outfit, jumping and spinning so happily that both you and matty have a little sniffle about your baby growing up; she looks so like him when she smiles like that, too, and you love it. anyway, after the show she comes tearing out to hug all of you, curls escaping the bun lol, and proudly carries the flowers matty gives her all the way home while he carries her and tells her how proud he is of her. sweet girl <3

[rebo-chan]

I know it doesn't need saying that Reborn is a good teacher, the series points that out to us multiple times really coming to a full realization through Bermuda who connected that these kids growth was related to Reborn. It's really hard to summarize just how true that is to the series, because there are so many little moments and big moments alike. He's both stood as a background character, letting these kids grow of their own accord and make their own decisions, and also a main character directly stepping forward and helping them when they need it. Truly and wholeheartedly, he loves those kids and does put effort into them and learning who they are as people and what helps them best. The Vongola Kids and Reborn are a special pair and though Reborn isn't Vongola, that hasn't stopped him from going affectionate. He truly loves those kids. I wanted to list a few moments that are like important to me with those kids, excluding Tsuna for length purposes but also because the series is its own case study of Tsuna and Reborn's relationship. (Maybe another post someday tho!)

Starting in no particular order, with Lambo, the thing about Lambo and Reborn's relationship is that its mostly antagonistic in that gag sort of way. See though, Reborn is always the first person to remind Tsuna of who Lambo is. To remind him that IS his Guardian and he should be taken seriously. He is the one to remind Tsuna during Future Arc that Lambo was trying to hold it together and not complain too much even though he misses Nana and the one who tells Ryohei how to 'activate' Lambo's hidden potential by mentioning Nana. Something especially important for me as well is that scene in Shimon where Reborn goes "I shouldn't have brought him here." and Lambo has that whole I'M the one who wants to come with you all. There's a frame where Reborn has the most smug little smile, as if he predicted this outcome all along. And idk yall, he's!! he's watching these kids!!

For Gokudera, he doesn't mentor him personally at any point in the series but he does always choose mentors for him that really highlight the areas he needs to improve in. Shamal for his self-preservation, Bianchi with his feelings of worth, Fon for his impatience and reckless behavior. Something especially important to me about their relationship is that Reborn and Gokudera in daily life got each others backs LOL. They raid longchamp's house together and Reborn does like to tease Gokudera and prank him as much as he likes to do it with Tsuna. Something about Gokudera gets Reborn going, gets that mean streak of his forward. That's just his funny guy.With that being said, he does!! care about him!! In future arc, he often goes around checking on everyone to make sure things are going okay. To be a little more serious with it, I think it's really enjoyable that Reborn happens to pick people to be his tutors that Gokudera personally has beef with or would agitate Gokudera. I think in a way he knows that Gokudera grows best when he's challenged, and being with people he respects (Tsuna, Reborn) doesn't serve him as much as making him acknowledge outright where his weakpoints are.

SO YAMAMOTO, RIGHT. YAMAMOTO IS ACTUALLY JUST REBORNS FAVORITE IF YOU NOTICE. ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY. THIS IS HIS FAVORITE CHILD. TSUNA WHO?? The way he just jumps off of Tsuna's shoulder to get onto Yamamotos.. cmon.. at least hide..tsuna adores you.. (There's even a scene in Daily Life where Yamamoto is like petting Reborn and Reborn is just looking at him with a "c:" and Tsuna GRUMBLES TO HIMSELF ABOUT HOW IF IT WAS TSUNA TOUCHING HIM HE WOULD HAVE ALREADY BEATEN HIM UP) Sort of going off from how Gokudera is also lowkey always being pranked by Reborn, Yamamoto isn't and my friends and I kinda realized Reborn.. likes the idiots. He's a fan of the dumbasses. He's so nice to Yamamoto and Ryohei, while making clowns of the smart ones or bullying the 'annoying' ones. OKAY, but really. Reborn's recruited most of the Vongola kids into the family, Yamamoto being his pride and joy when it comes to that. He has that really funny moment in Varia arc where hes all 'Aren't I amazing for being the one to find Yamamoto? ^-^" He also is in charge of training Yamamoto for a little bit of Future arc too, and he establishes to the audience that Yamamoto is a natural born hitman. I think it's also fun that during their training too, he motivates Yamamoto by telling him that if he can complete his training and keep his carefree smile (someday I'll have to do a post about Reborn and his relationship with the Mafia as a whole bc ahh!!) he'll tell him his secret. He sort of activates this kind of like hidden competitiveness IN Yamamoto by doing that and ensures he brings it up throughout the training and gives little hints of 'Before I was a baby - Ah, I shouldn't have said that." It's a little bit of lighthearted taunting too. Or when Yamamoto is knocked down, he tells him that he's doing good, and Yamamoto's like "Yeah right, I bet you're not even trying." Also, a little small interaction that might even go unnoticed is when Yamamoto is attacked during Shimon and Tsuna gets that phone call. The whole time Reborn is quietly questioning "What's wrong? Did something happen to Yamamoto?" "What's his condition?" and then he tells Tsuna he'll head in first (Which honestly I believe is more of a Tsuna/Reborn thing than Yamamoto/Reborn thing, he probably wanted to spare him having to see whatever condition Yam was in but its fair enough to note. He also is the one that goes and investigates the locker room where Yam was attacked to get things started. He's sweet on the guy.

(FYI? WHY DO MY YAMAMOTO SECTIONS ALWAYS END UP THE LARGEST?? ITS NOT ON PURPOSE OR FAVORING IT JUST HAPPENS THIS WAY.) In terms of Ryohei, there's this sort of mutual respect thing going on. Don't get me wrong, he thinks the guy is a dumbass khjnkhj but he is always more than happy to play along as 'Master PaoPao' and he put thought into who would be good for Ryohei as a mentor. He chooses someone like Colonello (a dumb himbo just like him-) to train him and there's an undeniable pride in him in Future Arc when he sees TYL Ryohei where he tells him that he's really matured over the years. I believe Ryohei was also somebody that Reborn personally wanted to recruit into the Vongola family, seeing his potential from the beginning.

Hibari.. Oh, Hibari. Reborn knows exactly how to play Hibari, that's the Vongola's secret weapon. He gets Dino to train him, someone who can keep up with the exponential growth and the need for the training to be battling bc otherwise how else are you gonna prank this gremlin into getting stronger for the team. And that fucking um promise that Hibari will get an opportunity to battle him? Never happens, he just fucking lies to Hibari. By the time it may be plausible, Hibari is more focused on his real rivals, the other Vongola Guardians and the boss. ('This team is full of people who I really want to bite to death' 'Someday even the sky will be beaten to death' 'Mukuro's my prey') But I don't think the relationship between Hibari and Reborn is inherently Reborn manipulating our battle freak. Similar to Ryohei and Reborn, there's a quiet respect. There's that scene in Future arc, where Reborn goes 'I missed you, Hibari<3" and TYL hibari just smiles at him and goes, 'Same here, baby' like those two are!! pals!! In general, I think Hibari is a good example of Reborn's adaptability with these kids as it takes a certain kind of energy to ..deal with Hibari.

Chrome!! There's not a lot of Chrome and Reborn scenes, but the ones there are really sweet. He does check up on her pretty often when she's sick during Future arc as well as while she's training with Bianchi. The really important scene between them is the one that happens during Rainbow arc where he understands that her issues regarding Mukuro being free. You see something really fun about Reborn is that he's pretty good with guiding someone to their answer rather than answering it for them. In this moment, and the moment that catches Bermuda's attention, is the fact that all he had asked her was what she wanted to be to in relation to Mukuro. This helped her steady herself and allowed her to enter the battle, which ultimately protected them against Vindice. And that's so special to me, because it was the final push for Chrome to wrap up her arc about her conviction and her resolution of her own accord and it came from our delightful tutor. I think Chrome is our example of Reborn's job being to make Tsuna into Vongola Tenth results in more than just focusing on Tsuna. (The others too of course are examples of this!) ALSO DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT THE FACT THAT HE VISITED HER IN THE HOSPITAL TO HELP HER AND ALSO ASKED HER TO BE HIS REPRESENTATIVE AFTER HE HEARD HOW SHE RESPONDED? UGHHH. Reborn..Chrome...

LAST BUT NOT LEAST, Mukuro! So Mukuro's relationship with Reborn is lowkey interesting to me sdkjhn. First of all, its implied that Mukuro knows about all the arco stuff in Kokuyo arc. As he calls Reborn an arcobaleno like it's a slur OTL. He also has his reservations about the way Mukuro comes to gain his powers, again Kokuyo when he called him a monster. During Varia arc, Reborn tells Tsuna that he should never forget what Mukuro had done to them previously. A sentiment he seemed to soften over, as TYL Mukuro aided in ending the war on Milefiore. By Shimon, they have a pretty funny interaction where Reborn catches Mukuro as an owl and then promptly kicks him after Mukuro was rude to him dhjkn. It all ends up becoming a thing where Reborn can understand where Mukuro comes from when it comes to his odd cold actions regarding Chrome. In a way, understanding that he too was trying to help Chrome. And I will never ever forget that moment where at the end of Kokuyo, WHERE REBORN SPOTS MUKURO HAVING POSSESSED SOMEONE AND COMMENTING THAT HE MUST BE LONELY AND IF HE WANTS TO PLAY AGAIN THEY'LL DO SO ANYTIME. yall.... mukuro do it. just admit that you're vongola........ Mukuro never makes his loneliness obvious, but with his upbringing it makes sense.. the way he never uses his teammates even though he acts like they're just his tools..god..Reborn sees through him and so do we..

HJEKDHN Not much of an analysis this time as just me listing my favorite moments between Reborn and the other Vongola kids.. Another long one.. I Need to make shorter posts yall.. BUT.. in the mean time!! if you guys have any favorite scenes with Reborn that I didn't bring up please let me know !! i love our lil mascot