#LIKE EVERY KID PLAYING PRETEND IN HIS FATHER'S SUIT??? HELLO?????

[astramachina]

okay but how dare the new Fall Out Boy song hit every single thing I enjoy in music with insanely good lyrics all in a four minute track.

we were a hammer to the Statue of David we were a painting you could never frame

i'm losing my fucking mind

[preppyacademy]

From a meaningless virtual life to the preppy boy I am now

Elliot's story

To convince you to come to the Preppy Academy, here's Elliot's personal testimonial. His life has changed radically thanks to our school's methods. The following are his words: 

Hello, my name is Elliot, I'm 20. I'm a student at the Preppy Academy. I'd like to thank M.Gilliard, our principal, who has asked me to write an account of my time here. 

Two years ago, I was still living with my father. I often dressed in sportswear; I loved Adidas clothes, so comfortable and easy to put on. Did I do any sport? No, not at all, but my mates dressed the same, so I followed suit. When I wasn't at school, I used to play video games all the time. I wore my clothes for days on end because I was too lazy to change. My bedroom was a real dump, with everything strewn all over the place. My diet consisted of eating chips and drinking sodas. 

My father was fed up with my bad behavior. He works in business, economics, something like that. My mother left us when I was a kid, and since then it's just been me and him. He'd tell me to “tidy my room”, “get dressed properly”. But I didn't give a damn, soon, I thought, I'll be able to leave soon, and I thought I'd be able to live with a friend in a flat-share for a bit of fun. 

There was a week when I made a decision that I had regretted at the time but that now makes me what I am. That week, it was at the beginning of my school year and I was playing a game that was too epic and I wanted to do it too much, so I made my dad think I was going to high school while I was pretending. Then, when he left for work, I'd come back and play on my P.S. console. But my stupidity caught up with me, and my father was contacted by the school and told of my repeated absences. It was a Thursday lunchtime, I remember, and he came home to find me quietly in bed. He came into my dirty room and said: 

" Elliot, that's enough! You're not going to school anymore, you're dressing like crap. Look at you, you've got holes in your clothes. You haven't washed or combed your hair in days. Things are going to change for you. A colleague at work told me about a boarding school that would be perfect for you. "

I was on my phone when he said this so I half-listened, as usual. He was clearly desperate about my behavior and had every reason to be. Now I understand. At the end of the afternoon, my father called me and reminded me that he had to take me to the dentist for an annual check-up. I'd completely forgotten, it wasn't something I was interested in remembering. I stayed in the same clothes and he took me to the dentist. I really didn't remember the appointment. Once there, my father accompanied me inside. A waiting room with other parents and their teenagers. There were guys from high school, who were also dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirts and sneakers. I wasn't the only one who dressed like that, which is why it seemed normal to do so. When it was my turn, the dentist called me in. I sat down in his dentist's chair. He asked me to lie down so he could check the inside of my mouth. He put some products in my mouth to relax it. And these products were starting to put me to sleep; he'd put in more than usual. 

I had fallen asleep on his armchair, I didn't know for how long. When I woke up, my hands were tied tightly to the chair. I tried to speak, but my mouth was still anesthetized. My father was talking to the dentist, and they were both looking at me. My father had collected my things, my bag and my phone. Looking around, I soon realized that I wasn't really at the dentist. The man posing as one approached me and said: 

"Elliot, your father, has informed us of your behavior at home and has decided to leave you with us for a while. Do you agree? "

I couldn't answer as my mouth was still anesthetized. 

" Since you're not answering my question, I imagine you're completely in agreement. If you don't say anything within a minute, we'll assume you agree."

I was trying to speak to refuse and scream for help, but only discreet moans came out. 

" Then we do have your agreement. "

My eyes began to tire again and I finally dozed off again.

I don't know what treatment he gave me, but it was like a dissociation. I saw myself outside my body like a ghost looking at my body. My father left with my things. The staff laid me properly on the bed and undressed me. I was completely naked at one point. They put a red ball in my mouth and covered my mouth with a gag that held with a tight strap behind it. I was as if unable to act, in the hands of my kidnappers. They dressed me in a white short-sleeved polo shirt, buttoned all the way up, tucked into khaki shorts with a brown belt, white knee-high socks and black loafers. They then cut my hair and styled it, neatly styled to the side and held with wax. I began to regain consciousness little by little, but I felt as if I were paralyzed in my own body, between the products that were still taking effect and the bonds that prevented me from fleeing. 

"Elliot, you're back with us. We've prepared you in a more respectable outfit than the garbage you used to wear. This preppy outfit suits you much better. Your hair looks much better like this. You probably have a lot of questions, but you're in good hands. I'm Doctor Greenwood, I'm here when sometimes you need a little push to get you into the Academy. I'll leave you here tonight and you'll make your official entrance tomorrow. "

I was stuck on this bed for several hours, and above me they'd set up a screen with a series of images and sounds that I had no choice but to watch. And no matter how tempted I was to close my eyes, a deep voice kept reading every word on the moving image. Eventually, I fell asleep to the rhythm of the video, which hypnotized me as it went along. 

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy” again and again and again...

This mantra was stuck in my head like music that never wants to come out. I still felt resistance, an urge to rebel and run away, but I was blocked and strangely began to feel pleasure at the idea of being a good preppy boy. 

When I woke up, four men in their thirties, all dressed in pastel shirts tucked into their pants, with bowties and loafers, took me by force. They took me by the arms and forced me to follow them. They put me in a van and tied me up. My gag was still in my mouth and I couldn't scream. I was at their mercy, with no power or control over the situation. I was their object. 

I was taken to a large, ivy-league type establishment, at the top of the main entrance is written “Preppy Academy”. I was led inside and up the stairs. I arrive in a very elegant office, with wood paneling and bookcases on every wall. The 4 men undress me.

I find myself in a preppy outfit: a white and blue striped OCBD shirt, pastel yellow shorts, red and blue suspenders, a dark blue and red striped tie tied around my neck, long white knee-high socks and dark loafers. Nothing to do with my outfits at home. I've been completely transformed into a preppy boy. I'm left with my hands tied and my mouth gagged in this office. I don't know what to do, I'm a slave to this establishment. My outfit isn't as comfortable as the one at home, I can feel the fabric of my shirt on my torso compressing me, the suspenders holding my shorts are like two ropes binding my outfit to my body, the pulled-up socks are so humiliating, I feel like a boy. But as I think I'm disgusted by my outfit, I realize that it actually turns me on. I like to think I have to be dressed like this to feel good. A few minutes later, a man in his fifties walks in. He's dressed in a nice three-piece suit, with a red tie. He looks at me deeply: 

"Hello Elliot! Welcome to the Preppy Academy. Your father told me you weren't behaving properly at home. He contacted us and paid for your enrollment. Whether you like it or not, you're staying here. You'll wake up here and sleep here. Your education needs to be reviewed. You must learn to be a good preppy boy for your superiors. I am M.Gilliard, the principal of this prestigious establishment. I am the Master of all the students here. You owe me obedience, submission, service and respect. "

These words enchanted me, and even though I wanted to leave, I could only nod in agreement. 

"To complete your admission among us, I must collect something. "

The 4 young men from earlier return and make me sit down on the chair, holding me tight. Mr. Gilliard unzips my pants and pulls out my penis. I start moaning, not agreeing with what's happening. Mr.Gilliard puts a sort of cage on my penis, forcing it to stay very small and any erection would hurt. 

" It's called a chastity cage. I'm the only one who keeps the keys. Every good boy here is caged. Your personal pleasure doesn't matter; you're here to obey and learn to serve. Your only satisfaction at the end of the day is to please men superior to you. "

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy”. This phrase made more and more sense. I was introduced to the establishment, the rules to follow and taken to a room I had to share, with a wardrobe full of preppy clothes, nothing I'd had before. 

I've been here for two years now and I don't want to leave. I like to serve my Master when he asks for it. I like being a good preppy boy. Obedient and helpful. I don't miss my old life anymore. I encourage all boys and men to come to the Preppy Academy. You'll love it! 

[bunnysuit-femboy]

Forbidden

Pairing: Dilf!Armin x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Cheating, Use of the word sir, Fingering, Slightly manipulative Armin

Quick Summary: you’re a babysitter for the Arlert family and Mr. Arlert shows you just how much he appreciates your company

Notes: This was written for @1252291​‘s Forbidden Collaboration! Thank you so much for letting me join the collab, I had so much fun writing this!

You greeted the lovely couple at the door, opening it wide enough for them to slip in amongst their quiet conversation. Mrs. Arlert didn’t give you so much as a hello before she was stomping up the stairs and to her room. Mr. Arlert was nicer than his wife though; he actually offered you a hello as he entered the house and a bit of conversation before offering to drive you home.

He talked to you briefly about the things he normally asked you about; how college was going for you, how the kiddo was that night, what you both had for dinner, and if you were ready to go. It was the same conversation you had with him every Friday night when he brought you over to watch his kid as he and his wife went out for their weekly date night.

Mr. Arlert led you to his car which was parked closest to the door. He was just as gentlemanly as he had been in his youth; he opened the front door for you, led you to the passenger side of his car and even opened that door for you as well. He’s your dream man, through and through, it’s something you realized six months ago after taking the job as his babysitter. He was everything you’ve ever wanted in a man.

As you drove towards your campus, Armin hummed to the music playing from the radio. He didn’t talk much since he had asked all of his regular questions for you at the door of his house. He didn’t have much more to say. So, he sang instead for you, humming the lyrics of most of the songs coming from his car.

You sat silently in his passenger seat. You watched as the buildings passed and the moon followed you and Mr. Arlert through the streets of the small college town. He was driving you back to your dorm building, driving carefully as he passed by drunk students and familiar buildings with your classes inside.

“I actually went to school here as well,” Armin said he passed by the Humanities building on the right, “I was an English major and a Psychology minor, believe it or not.”

You tilted your head towards the man, “A Psychology minor, I can believe - but an English major - I don’t think it suits you.”

Armin smiled at you, “What would you assume my major would be?”

“Something in medicine, probably. You’re just so formal, like a doctor. I could even see you being a physical therapist.” You shrugged at the man. “But, I do know that you teach poetry, so I guess it makes sense that you didn’t major in medicine.”

“Smart,” Armin said as he turned back to the road, “You used your context clues.”

You giggled into your hand, turning back to the buildings passing through your window. Armin wasn’t expecting that noise to come from your mouth, you let out such a lovely little laugh that it genuinely surprised him. He could hardly pay attention to the road afterwards, just looking at you with a new light in his eyes. He didn’t care what he had to do, he was willing to do it in order to hear that giggle come from your mouth again.

You turned towards the campus to hide your grinning face from Mr. Arlert. He kept sneaking peeks at you even though your focus wasn’t on him, he was hoping to catch a glimpse of your beautiful features. He almost didn’t hear you as you spoke, all of his attention focused on your person rather than your words.

“Mr. Arlert,” You nearly whispered into the passenger side window, “I really admire how deeply you and Mrs. Arlert love each other-”

“Oh, don’t.” Armin smiled bittersweetly to his steering wheel. “It’s really not something you should admire.”

You now looked at Mr.Arlert with wide eyes, “What do you mean?”

“We just-” Armin sighed before continuing. “We aren’t as perfect as you think we are.”

“What are you talking about?” Your mouth set itself into a pout as you stared at the man you’ve looked up to for so long. Not only was he an amazing man, he was an amazing father, and an amazing husband. And, to think a part of that was false drove you to a deep sense of sadness, like the feeling of finally meeting your role model and only realizing they were just another asshole in the world.

Armin grinned pityingly at you, “We’re just human, dear.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Mr. Arlert, confused with how somebody could crush your heart so casually with one sentence. You tried to hide your obvious disappointment with this new information, but it was so hard. Mr. Arlert was such an amazing man, he deserved a more real love - and he, above everything, deserved somebody who could give that to him.

Mr. Arlert drove dangerously slower than the speed limit and he even seemed to keep missing the road leading to your dorm building. It was as if he were successfully buying more time with you - pretending he didn’t know the familiar way back to your dorm, and even getting lost in the mostly abandoned parking lot once he finally found it.

You sighed before eventually turning to Mr. Arlert, “Why do you stay with her then? If you’re only pretending to be happy, then why don’t you leave your wife?”

You noticed a moment too late that maybe the question was a bit much. You were about to take the words back, quickly asking a more appropriate question. But, by the time your mind had thought of a second, better question, Mr. Arlert was already beginning to answer your last question.

Armin turned the car into an empty parking spot nowhere close to the front doors of the dorm building. He put his car into park before finally contemplating the question you asked him. He knew two answers, one answer that was true and the other answer being the one he knew you wanted to hear.

“I don’t know,” Armin answered, “I suppose it’s because-” Armin took a moment to think before continuing. “I guess it’s because I haven’t found the right person. I’m just stuck with my wife until I find somebody worth destroying that relationship for. It’s horrible, I know - I feel awful thinking this way, and thinking of these things.”

Armin ignored your face while he spoke, promptly avoiding the bright new look in your eyes. It was as if the world was coming together in the palm of your hands, like the puzzle pieces you’ve been collecting along the way were finally beginning to make a bigger picture. Mr. Arlert had said exactly what you wanted him to, even inviting you to fantasize about what his words could mean for you.

You said it yourself; Mr. Arlert was an amazing man and he deserved somebody who could give him real love. And, his wife wasn’t that person - he made that very clear, he was only with her because he had no other choice. And, you were sure Armin could find somebody out there in the world as a newly single silver fox. But, you also knew that he didn’t have to look so far for that real love, he could just look in his passenger seat for somebody who could love him unconditionally and indefinitely.

“It’s not,” You said as you gently laid a comforting hand on Mr.Arlert’s shoulder, “You deserve more than what she’s giving you, so nobody can blame you for wanting it.”

Wanting it was an understatement, Armin was practically frothing at the mouth from craving it. He couldn’t get through a single day without thinking about it - thinking about you. Thinking about how sweet your voice is towards him, even after hours of dealing with a child. Thinking about just how hard you giggle at his jokes, a soft laugh that echoes through his mind for hours afterwards. Thinking about just how slick and soft your thighs looked under the hem of your skirt, and how you seemed to play with his imagination when you bent over to pick up a toy in front of him. It was like you wanted him to stare, and like you wanted him to think about the feeling of your hips against his fingertips as he thrusts deeper and deeper into you from behind.

Armin turned slowly towards you, blue eyes sparkling thanks to the street light shining through his sunroof. His eyes watched your face carefully, afraid of missing a hint of discomfort. He wanted to lean into your touch - more than he’s wanted anything before in his life - but he would never allow himself to get closer to you if he knew you didn’t want him to.

“But,” Armin asked in a small tone, “Even if wanting something is okay, is having that same thing okay as well?”

You were suddenly hyper aware of Mr. Arlert’s eyes being glued to your lips. Your mouth was now dry, causing you to incessantly lick your lips, but nothing quite quenched the thirst your mouth craved. Being in this car alone with Mr. Arlert was turning your insides to mush, destroying your composure in front of his very eyes.

“Only if the other person wants it as well,” You said in a quiet voice only to be heard if Mr. Arlert were listening intently, “And I do.”

Armin’s eyes quickly glanced up to your own. His light blue eyes were shining with a new deepness of desire. He never felt this way with his wife - well, maybe once upon a time many, many years ago, but now - he only ever felt this way with you. He felt it from the moment he met you, from the moment you walked through his front door and into his house six months ago. It was like the dying flames of passion were suddenly reignited in his body.

And, he was so grateful that you could reverse what his wife had destroyed. He felt so thankful in fact that he wanted to prove to you how much he appreciates you. For babysitting his daughter, for making intellectual conversation, for wearing that skimpy little skirt you seemed to always be wearing around him - he wanted to show you just how much he appreciates everything you do, so he kissed you.

It was the only form of payment he could imagine, and he rather liked that it benefited himself as well as you. He liked that when he kissed you gently, you immediately pushed your mouth into his lips, only deepening the kiss. And, he liked that when he ran his hand gently through your hair, you moaned against his mouth, making him want to do the action over again and again. And - above everything else - Armin mostly liked that when he whispered how kissing you was wrong when he was married, you immediately answered with a plea for him to continue, swearing up and down that you wouldn’t tell a soul about what happened.

He liked how badly you wanted him, something his wife hasn’t shown him in many years.

Mr. Arlert’s rough hand was no longer in your hair, now instead on your smooth thigh. His calloused fingers moved under the hem of your small purple skirt, spreading your legs when he slid his finger down the crotch of your panties. The movement of his fingers had you moaning against his mouth as he continued to feel your throbbing cunt through the now wet fabric of your panties.

Your breath was hot against Armin’s mouth and it only encouraged him further. He could feel the ghost of a moan on your lips and he craved more. He wanted to hear you really moan for him, moan out in pleasure, moan out his name. He wanted to hear it all, every hiccup in your throat and every plea for him to go harder.

“Mr. Arlert,” You whispered breathlessly against his lips, “I want more, please.”

Armin chuckled to himself, “Mr. Arlert?” Armin leaned back from your face, taking in the sight of your delicate features illuminated by the streetlight above his car. Armin’s blue eyes carefully searched your face with just the ghost of a smile present across his lips. “You make me sound so old, just call me Armin.”

“But, Mr. Arlert-”

“Or,” Armin said with a soft grin, “You can call me sir.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Sir?”

Armin smiled, “Mhm, just like that.”

“Sir,” You mewled the word into his mouth, as Armin kissed you deeper. “Sir.” Between kisses, you whispered to Armin exactly what he wanted to hear. “Sir.” You wanted to please him, you craved to please him and to do so you had to do exactly what he asked of you. “Sir.” You would do anything he asked of you.

Armin practically whimpered into your mouth, “Say it again.”

Mr. Arlert’s hand is still under the hem of your skirt, his fingers brushing against your throbbing core. You could barely get an uninterrupted breath out, nevermind a full word. You were already overwhelmed by Mr. Arlert’s touch. Every graze of his fingertip against your body had you moaning desperately for more.

“Si-” Your word quickly turned into a moan out for Armin as his fingers plunged deeper into your panties. He was kissing you with each stroke of his fingers against your core, collecting the wetness that had settled there. Armin leaned back with a cocky smile against his lips, whispering a demand as he watched you struggle to speak.

“I wanna hear you say it again,” Armin said in a sweet tone contrary to the dirty things his fingers were doing, “Please, baby - if you say it again, I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

Whatever you asked? Of course you knew he meant in a shorter time frame, but your mind couldn’t help but jump to everything you could ask him. You could ask him to divorce his wife. You could ask him to marry you instead and let you love him indefinitely. Or - you supposed, for now - you could ask him to fuck you dumb in the backseat of his car. But, someday you’ll ask him to dedicate his everything to you, hopefully someday soon if he fucked you well enough.

Armin fingers teased the sensitive skin under the fabric of your panties. He played you like a piano, tipping his finger in, out, and around. Each movement was agonizing and satisfying at the same time, you moaned out for him to do more but he only refused. He was serious about his request and he wouldn’t accept your plea if you didn’t call him sir first - even though he wanted it just as much as you.

He almost couldn’t take it, he wanted to be inside of you but you were taking your time with calling for him. He had to stop himself from talking you through the word, babying you into speaking the way he used to help his daughter. He just wanted to touch you, couldn’t you give him this?

“Say it or-” Armin’s hand started to pull back from between your legs- “I don’t do anything to you.” You quickly grabbed his wrist, keeping his fingers close to your skirt.

“Sir!” You practically shouted the word into his mouth. You just wanted him to touch you and it made your blood run cold to feel him pulling away. “Touch me, please just touch me, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

Armin did as promised, he did as you asked after complying to his request. He touched you, his hand was back under your panties and dipping his thick fingers into your wetness. It was hard to focus on the praises he whispered between your lips, you were too engrossed by his fingers diving in and out of you under the thin fabric of your skirt.

Armin groaned into your mouth as your fingers dug into his bicep. You pulled his arm closer to your body, causing his hands to follow. You bucked your hips up into his hand as you pulled his fingers deeper and deeper inside of you, hoping he could reach all of the parts inside of you that had never been touched before.

Only Armin could satisfy you completely, not the idiots you’ve given yourself to before.

Mr. Arlert was more experienced than all of those other boys. He didn’t just push himself into you, completely unaware of your own pleasure. No, Armin took his time with you, he moved his fingers in and out of you to the same beat of the song playing quietly in the background.

And when his thick and rough fingers were already deep inside of you, he curled them. The movement brought out a whole different noise from you, more like a cry out for Armin. This noise was surprisingly better than the giggle he heard earlier, and he couldn’t get enough of it or you.

You could feel his fingers bringing you closer and closer to your climax. And he could feel it as well, feel the way your body sucked him into you in more ways than one; the way your entrance pulled his fingers in, the way your hips jutted sloppily into his arm, and the way your face scrunched up in pleasure.

It only took two more strokes of Armin’s hand before the internal band in your stomach was snapping and you were releasing all over Armin’s fingers and the crotch of your panties. You had never felt so empty once Mr. Arlert had taken his fingers from inside of you.

“Mr. Arlert,” You whispered to him once he had turned himself back to the steering wheel, readying himself to leave. You put your arms around him, touching his back and thigh before leaning close enough to say the words. “Do you want me to-?”

“No,” Armin said much too quickly for your liking, “How about we do that next time? If I stay out much longer, my wife will get suspicious.”

You nodded frantically, “Okay - okay, next time - next Friday?”

Armin nodded with a gentle smile, “Next Friday.”

He kissed you once before letting you leave. It was stupid to think that anything more could happen between you and Mr. Arlert - you knew that. But, you couldn’t help but feel giddy as you stepped out of the car and walked off towards your dorm building. You couldn’t wait for next Friday, and - more specifically - the night after babysitting when Mr. Arlert would drive you home.

[youryanderedaddy]

Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

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

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

[cherrykindness]

one spoon for two |

first of all, i can't make my first post in english without thanking those who helped and encouraged me to make this decision. thank you for everything @waitimcomingtoo, @harryhoney-bee and @parkers-gal 🧡

summary: you and peter share spoons and sweatshirts and are “secretly” in love with each other.

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

warning: hi! english (obviously) is not my first language, so I ask for patience, im still learning <3

"Good morning." You said with a enviable morning good humor as soon as you arrived at the complex's kitchen, receiving distracted nods and murmurs from Bucky, Sam, and Natasha. Peter, on the other hand, received your greeting with equal enthusiasm.

"Good morning, Y/N." He replied anxiously, straightening the posture and removing his feet from the chair beside. "Do you want to sit here?" He asked quick and shyly, pretending not to notice Bucky and Sam narrowing their eyes across the table. "I-I mean, it's empty, but you don't have to if you don't want to."

You nodded, accepting the offer before sitting down next to the boy you used to call best friend, frowning as you noticed that your yogurt with granola was already prepared next to a spoon and a glass of milk.

"Did you do that?"

Peter agreed, feeling a warmth rise from his neck to his cheeks.

"Yes, I figured you would be tired after last night."

That answer was enough to capture the attention of the entire kitchen. Steve, who was walking through the door with an empty mug in hand, stopped as soon as he heard the phrase leave Peter's lips, widening his eyes as he struggled not to let the ceramic object hit the floor.

"What?" Bucky asked in astonishment, blinking rapidly as he looked away between you and Peter. "What did you guys do last night?"

You and Peter looked at each other in confusion, but before you could respond, Natasha pointed to your clothes.

"Is that Peter's sweatshirt?"

Steve's pressure seemed to have dropped at this very moment. With trembling hands and flushed cheeks, the soldier sat down on one of the chairs, hiding his face amidst inaudible murmurs.

"Tony already knows this?" Sam asked with his mouth full of cereal, looking at you both with disapproval.

"What should I know?"

Peter swallowed hard when he heard your father's voice, dreading the mischievous smile that grew on Bucky's face.

"That me and Pete spent the whole night watching Star Wars." You were quick to respond, causing Peter to let out a relieved sigh.

"So that's what the kids call it these days?" Steve whispered, looking more shocked by the minute. Natasha patted her friend on the back, offering consolation.

"The Spider-Baby said he made Y/N very tired last night." Bucky, playing the part of the devil on Peter's shoulder, repeated the sentence with slight alteration.

"I didn't say that." The boy with bright curls said in horror, shaking his head frantically as his face turned as red as fresh strawberries. "It wasn't like that, Mr. Stark."

"So explain it to me." Tony demanded with a serious face, crossing his arms over his chest.

The boy became an clumsy mess in a matter of seconds. Bucky, Sam and Natasha holding their own giggling as the comic moment unfolded.

"You don't have to say anything, Pete." You reassured him, understanding your father's intentions. "Let's get away from those perverts. We still have a lot to enjoy this weekend."

You stood up with Peter at your heels, leaving the kitchen under the watchful eyes of the Avengers. Everyone, except Steve, burst out laughing as soon as Tony made sure that you were no longer around, Sam having to wipe away a few tears that had escaped from the corner of his eyes.

"What?" Steve asked confused, staring at the others strangely. "What did I miss?"

"They are so oblivious." Natasha said with a smile, shaking her head negatively.

"It's kind of cute." Tony admitted, shaking his shoulders. "The boy is unable to make a move, however."

"What?" Steve voiced it for the third time in less than three minutes. "They-they- you know; Aren't you angry? Isn't that a move for you?"

"They did nothing, cap." Tony stated between a sigh. "They spent the night watching Star Wars just as Y/N said, believe me."

"But is painfully obvious the Spider-Boy is upside down for her." Sam stated, earning a nod from Tony, Bucky and Natasha. "He was already here when me and Bucky showed up in the morning. He was sitting at the table and Y/N's breakfast was also already prepared. I was about to sit next to him– and it was the first time I ever considered sitting next to that child, I swear, when he simply put his feet up on the empty chair, saying that he had severe cramps and needed space. When Y/N appeared at the door all smiling and wearing his college sweatshirt, puft, it seems that the boy went out of his mind, and the first thing he did was to offer the seat next to him."

"There was one day that Y/N needed to help Bruce in the lab and was without access to her cell phone for most of the day. Peter and I were working together on his suit, but the boy was picking up the cell phone every two minutes. He sent a message at 04:30 and Y/N didn't answer until at 08:47, so guess what? Peter answered at 08:48." Said Tony.

"The boy was whipped." Bucky uttered between a sip of coffee.

"He and Y/N were sharing a pot of strawberry ice cream during the last movie session." It was Natasha's turn to share a moment between you and Peter, attracting the attention of the men accompanying her, "but there was only one spoon for both."

There was a suggestive exchange of glances between her, Stark, Barnes and Wilson, broken by Rogers' timid and cautious voice.

"So the kids didn't do anything indecent?"

"Oh, for God's sake!" Tony rolled his eyes, leaving the room.

–

It was almost seven in the evening when Peter came into the kitchen again, now with a green mask on his face and a Hello Kitty's patch over his nose.

"What the fuck?" Bucky asked skeptically, almost spitting out the sandwich that was in his mouth.

"Y/N and I are going skin care tonight." Peter replied simply, going over to the refrigerator as everyone watched him intently.

"And what is that on your face?" Natasha asked the question everyone wanted while Peter grabbed a pot of ice cream from the freezer.

"Avocado mask. She saw in TikTok that it is good for the pores."

"So that was the fate of the avocado I bought to eat in the morning." Steve said regretfully. "It's okay, I can buy another one tomorrow."

"I have many questions, but I don't think any answer will answer them." Sam do a grimace before turning to the food laid out on the table.

"Peter, you should ask Y/N out on a date." Thor gave his opinion. "That's what you Midgardians call, right?"

Peter choked with the air as he heard the Thunder God's phrase, almost letting the pot of ice cream slide down the sink.

"W-we go to dates almost every day." He refuted with red face. "Tomorrow we will go to the supermarket. We can buy another avocado for you, Steve."

"But this is not the kind of date we are talking abo–" Natasha tried to explain, but Peter was already leaving the kitchen practically running.

"Bye, Y/N is waiting me to put cucumbers over the eyes."

"You got only one spoon!" The redhead screamed.

"It's enough!"

The Avengers present exchanged a look of recognition before Thor broke the silence, repeating the question Sam had asked that same morning:

"Tony already knows this?"

Everyone shook their shoulders simultaneously, Bruce being the only one to speak up verbally when silence filled the room.

"I'm sure he's already pulling some strings."

–

"Please, Tony, don't tell me that you are hiding to spying Peter and Y/N."

Tony peeked a bit between the leaves as he heard Pepper's harsh voice, putting the binoculars in the back pocket of his pants as covertly as possible.

"Spying?" He laughed exaggeratedly loudly. "Of course not, dear. This is absurd."

The woman eyed him suspiciously, reaching into her husband's pocket as soon as he hugged her.

"So can you start explaining to me the binoculars, the camouflage clothing, and the presence of a giant plant that was not in the hallway before?"

Tony walked away defeated, lowering his eyes at the judgmental look he was receiving.

"The word "spying" is too strong, okay? Let's say I was watching them without them knowing."

Pepper rolled her eyes.

"They are already adults, Tony. You should let them make their own decisions, and it is pretty obvious that they like each other. I know that the idea of Peter and Y/N dating may be strange to you, but–"

"Strange?" He almost shouted, lowering his voice when he noticed that the music that used to come from your room had stopped, now putting his camouflage skills at risk. "Baby, I love you, but you are crazy." He whispered. "Peter is the only boy who deserves to be with someone like Y/N, and all I have been doing for the past seven months is trying to get them to confess the feelings that everyone knows exist, but they seem too blind to see. So far I remain with the verdict that the boy is right for her and I hope don't change my mind anytime soon. They are my OTP."

"OTP?" Pepper asked confused by the slang.

"One True Pairing. Honey, you are so out of date."

"All right, I'm leaving."

Tony arched an eyebrow as he watched his wife walk away and take the binoculars, shrugging his shoulders before hiding behind the leaves again. He spent almost two hours there, but nothing interesting had happened, just you and Peter going back and forth from the kitchen with greasy foods and ice cream, a spoon for two as you shared whatever it was in the aisles, sometimes even taking it into each other's mouths, making Tony look away from those nauseatingly sweet scenes.

He had a story appointment with Morgan and his presence in the little girl's room at nine was a must. The plan affectionately called "Project Starker" had failed that day, and Tony had to accept defeat as he went to your room, expecting to find you and Peter sprawled out on the bed while some nerdy movie was playing on TV.

"Y/N? Peter?"

The room was dark, lit only by adjacent lights coming through the window. Tony stumbled over a few objects along the way, walking blindly through the furniture until he was near your bed.

"Can you even see each other here? God, how–"

Tony had to interrupt the sentence, surprised to see you and Peter snuggled up to each other, sleeping peacefully while a current series he didn't know the name of played on the TV at an almost inaudible volume. He shook his head in denial, holding back a smile before nudging Peter's waist, forging an angry timbre:

"Kid, you have a room here for a reason. What are you doing in my daughter's bed?"

Peter blinked a few times, completely lost and surprised by Tony's presence.

"Mr. Stark?" He asked stunned, trying to see Tony through the shadows. "Why are you here?"

Your father raised one of his eyebrows, aghast at the sudden boldness of the teenager before remembering the younger man's sleepwalking habits. Peter probably thought he was dreaming or some shit.

"Why are you here?" Tony returned the question, crossing his arms.

"Because I'm in love with Y/N and I want to sleep next to her."

Tony opened his mouth like a goldfish, cursing himself mentally for not recording that statement, shaking Peter's body when he started to close his eyes again.

"Aren't you going to your room?"

Peter mumbled something indecipherable, tightening his arms around your body as you continued to sleep heavily on his chest.

"No, thanks for the offer."

Tony nodded to nothing, deciding to just close your curtain and ask to Friday to turn off the TV.

"Thank you for doing Y/N too, Mr. Stark. I appreciate that."

Tony laughed softly, promising himself that he would tease the boy about it the next morning, “Go to sleep, kid. I'm sure no one will leave you alone tomorrow after I tell what you said."

Stark was about to leave when he noticed Peter's feet sticking out of the covers. The night was cold, and there was nothing but a thin comforter protecting the two of you.

"Just one blanket?" He asked.

"Yes." Peter kind of whispered, pulling you closer. "It's enough."

This time Tony didn't hold back his smile, shaking his head before closing the door, leaving you and Peter in that little bubble of teenage passion.

"Point for you, Spider-Boy."

[grittyreadsfic]

hello my friends, one singular person asked for this weeks ago so i’m here with my most unhinged rec list yet: tk and nolan.

now, this one was hard to reign in, so i really didn’t. this pairing had maybe 230 fics in the tag when i first started reading hockey fic, and it’s now over 900, and i’ve read far too many of them, and that makes it so hard to parse it down. so i just...didn't!

so with that said, please enjoy so you want to get into tknp: a beginners guide to a classic case of idiots to lovers

i told myself that i couldn’t rec an author’s entire body of work but then i remembered this is my blog and i do what i want, so i did some consolidating. here’s a list of the quintessential authors for this pairing, you can start at any of their profiles and pick any of their fics at random, and it’ll be one of the best ones for the pairing, hands down.

therainbowsedge: i’d start with the summer camp fic, or the sex toys one, as both beautifully capture the true idiots to lovers nature of this pairing, but just top tier writing all around

manybumblebees: the wedding fic is so tender and port stanley is a classic, but literally pick any single fic and you’ll have a perfect tknp fic. i’m not kidding

jamesvanriemsdick: their tknp fics in their series are some of the hidden gems of this pairing (the tk heartbeat fic makes me LOSE it) but the delaware fic or the seattle fic…..there’s really something for every mood

catchascatchcan: start with era of gods because i could write literal essays on how it’s some of the best fantasy worldbuilding i’ve ever read, but then just read everything else on their account, including non tknp fics. you won’t regret it

hackysack: ao3 user hackysack has written one of two timeloop fics that i absolutely adore, and i thought about just calling that one out in particular, but all of their work deserves the attention

canary: nothing to prove was the first tknp fic i ever read and i was immediately hooked. all of their fics are a good starting place for the pairing, and just really give you a feeling for the pairing

and now, for the fic recs!

to be, despite it all by smudgedfreckles

summary: or, nolan patrick’s gender thesis, by travis konecny.

why i love it: there’s not a lot ofo nonbinary characters in media, even in fic, but this fic’s treatment of nolan and their path to figuring out their gender just feels so real and made me feel so seen. tk’s characterization is also just top notch, and it’s just a super sweet story about two people who love each other

last ones standing by makeit_takeit

summary: If you’re committed to finding your future spouse, reads the last line of the ad, and are ready to look at yourself and your love life in a whole new way, apply now.

At the bottom of the ad there’s a link, and Travis finds his finger hovering over the screen, lip still caught between his teeth.

“I mean,” he says very reasonably, speaking out loud to his empty apartment like some sort of possibly-crazy person, “just applying doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I just fill it out, and see what happens. It’s not like I’m really gonna get picked to be on TV, come on.”

He snorts out loud, just to show his apartment he hasn’t lost his grip on reality or anything; he fully understands how ludicrous that would be.

Then he clicks the link anyway, because yolo or whatever.

why i love it: what part of a married at first sight fic doesn’t make you want to immediately dive right in? the concept is fun, the execution is absolutely flawless, and it captures their dynamic so well while letting it develop naturally

motivation by connectknee

summary: Kevin knows when to back off, the article said. He knows just when to shut up and leave Patty alone, something Travis has never known how to do.

why i love it: the thing i love about this pairing is that tk is loud and in your face, and nolan’s more reserved, a little quieter, a little harder to read. this fic does a really great job of exploring how tk could feel like maybe he’s just a bit too much and is one of my favorites in terms of miscommunication

a tenderness grows by rusesdeguerre

summary: Nolan wouldn’t say that landing a job as the Philadelphia Flyers’ psychotic and probably clinically insane mascot was a childhood dream of his. Maybe tangentially: playing pond hockey in –30°C weather and pretending to be Sidney Crosby is practically a rite of passage when you grow up in Manitoba. That, and experiencing the distinct displeasure that is thousands of mosquitoes sucking your blood out when your father drags you on a father-son camping trip into the backwoods of the northern Canadian Prairies.

why i love it: this was the first fic i recced on this blog, and i stand by that decision. a fic where nolan is not only not a hockey player, but is in fact the person in the gritty suit? absolutely perfect, and so charming from start to finish

meet me at my window by springsteen

summary: Travis has lived in Philadelphia for a few years now, long enough to know there isn’t a major city in America where superheroes don’t destroy an entire city block trying to save humanity or whatever. He can deal with all the super-shit, but Travis did not sign up for getting woken up from a deep sleep because some fucker’s trying to break in through his window.

(5 times the super-villain known as "The Cat" breaks into Travis's apartment, plus 1 time Travis invites him in.)

why i love it: there’s a lot of things to love here, but the concept is just absolutely one of my all time favorite aus ever. it’s fun and charming and the perfect glimpse into a world where heroes and villains exist, and what it’s like just to be a run of the mill kind of guy existing in it. tk and nolan’s back and forth in this make it so engaging, and it’s such a top tier fic

body’s in trouble by cloudsandpassingevents

summary: “Oh, sorry,” someone says. “Didn’t know anyone else was here.”

Nolan freezes, then turns around very slowly. When he looks up, Nicklas fucking Backstrom is standing behind him in a hoodie and baggy sweats, holding the biggest bag of Swedish Fish Nolan’s ever seen in his life in one hand.

“Uh,” Nolan says around the pop tart between his teeth. “Yeah.”

What the fuck, his brain helpfully supplies.

why i love it: from nolan’s inner voice, to the way the author explores all the dynamics within the team, to the way they write the unexpected but actually, it kind of makes sense friendship between nolan and backstrom, is just absolutely fantastic. there’s a lot of moments that circle back and build on each other in a way that really just makes it super compelling

rhizomatic foundations by lighthousetowers

summary: Twenty days after he moves in with Kevin Hayes, twenty days – three months, five months, depending on how you look at it – after not talking to TK, TK shows up at the front door with a plant the size of a basketball in his hands.

TK grins. "Patty, meet Reginald." He lifts up the plant. "Reggie, meet Patty. He's going to be your new - caretaker."

"What the fuck," says Nolan, not moving a single muscle.

Or: That Nolan can hear the plant talk might as well just happen.

why i love it: this is probably my favorite magical realism fic just about ever. it’s fun and charming and a little weird, but in the best possible way. there’s such a wonderful narrative in it, and lighthousetowers always has such beautiful writing, and it really shines in this one. the dialogue and nolan’s characterization are also part of what set it apart for me as one of the best tknp fics

in the dark of any town by mengetpegged

summary: If the voice has an accent at all, it’s a flat prairie Canadian, with none of G’s French-Canadian softness at the edges. But mostly, the accent is just ‘pissed off,’ which TK believes is a default setting for ghosts.

“Who are you?” TK asks, and he doesn’t like how strained his voice sounds, doesn’t like the tinge of anxiety tinting the rise of his question. He tries to regulate his breaths—in through his nose, hold, out through his mouth—but it feels like he’s not getting enough oxygen, which makes him panic even more.

“Someone with a fucking migraine, dickhead,” the voice says. “So keep the lights off and shut the hell up.”

(or: Nolan Patrick, Hotel X Ghost)

why i love it: i’m usually not super into ghost fics, both the spooky kind and the nonspooky kind, but this one is a rare exception. it’s charming and fun and tender and it’s got some of, in my opinion, the best characterization of tk and nolan in any fic. the way the author writes their dynamic and their dialogue is just unmatched

lets_make_this_moment_a_crime.mp3 by honeydripping

summary: Travis meets Nolan at a Midtown show in 2002 when he punches Nolan in the face. He can’t help it, “Like A Movie” just goes off.

But he does feel guilty about it.

or

TK and Patty work at a bakery together. They go to punk shows to pass the time.

why i love it: idk if anyone asked for an early 2000s emo/punk/alt au but wow! i sure am glad it exists! really the vibes of this fic, as silly as that sounds, are absolutely unmatched. i love the structure with the music, the development of their relationship, and just everything about how the author wrote the setting (there’s this whole thing with tattoos in it that makes me feel absolutely insane)

you’re ripped at every edge by you’re a masterpiece by conformityissuicide

summary: “Ugh, look, this yoga teacher has it out for me, man. And I can’t go back there without at least having some of the basics down. I’ve got to win this battle.”

“Yoga isn’t really something you win at,” Hartsy starts.

Travis cuts him off, “You can win at anything if you try hard enough.”

+++

OR that time Nolan's a grumpy yoga teacher and Travis realizes he wants to bone him and prove him wrong about Travis' non-existent yoga abilities.

why i love it: listen, if you want tknp, at least one of them has to be an idiot, and this tk absolutely captures the obliviousness i love to see in him in fic. it’s such a great characterization of them both and such a great concept (and even better execution)

you form a terror pack (and i’m aware of that) by dalmatienne

summary: “Can I help you?” TK snarks, both eyebrows hiked up in a way that has earned her many elbow checks to the ribs.

The chick looks down her nose, long thick eyelashes fluttering. Red-bitten lips part to blow a florid pink bubble and TK can smell the chemical sweetness when it pops.

“Yeah,” she says in this monotonous voice that seems almost at odds with her bubble gum and neon skates. She jams her stopper into TK’s thigh again, literally inches away from where it’d really hurt. “Tie ‘em.”

why i love it: to be honest, i generally don’t read rule 63 within hrpf, but this one is just absolutely knocks it out of the park. the concept (i fuckin’ love roller derby), the characterization of nolan, the pacing, the rituals, the tone of the entire fic, it’s just all around a perfect read from start to finish

thrills and grills by bitter_leaf

summary: Travis can’t even begin to wonder what he did in a previous life to incur the wrath of this fucking cook. Travis thinks he’s a nice person, doesn’t conduct himself in any way that could be considered particularly dickish, and unless this guy has some sort of issue with hockey bros or people from the boonies, he’s not sure how he started shit without even knowing.

__

Patty has a vendetta. Travis just wants to eat his eggs in peace.

why i love it: honestly this is the enemies to lovers fic i’ve been waiting for. i remember seeing the reddit post when it first went viral and thinking it would make such a great fic premise, so stumbling across this one was just so wonderful. super engaging and fun and so hilarious to read!

nothing but room for you by fightingfuries

summary: When his agent tells him he’s going to be traded to the Devils, Nolan isn't sure how he feels about it. Might be easier if he was going somewhere farther away, like California or fucking Florida. Somewhere sun-soaked and foreign. Someplace so different from Philadelphia that he can forget he ever played for the Flyers, forget everything that happened there.

Or Nolan fucks up, gets traded, gets his shit together and falls in love. Not necessarily in that order.

why i love it: i cannot stress to you how much i love trade fics, and this one is one of my absolute favorites. the trade to the devils-so close to philly, still, but there’s more to distance than physical miles-was such an excellent choice and the split timeline adds so much to the narrative, and the emotions are real and messy and complicated in the best way

a couple of runaways (i’m glad you stayed) by overturnedgoal

summary: The person in the video he’s watching is super annoying. Some obnoxious holier than thou granola type who keeps talking about their environmental impact as if they aren’t driving a gas guzzler around, but the basic idea of living in a van, driving around wherever, camping all the time, just going hiking and swimming and seeing the whole country? It sounds pretty dope, honestly.

why i love it: i like to watch tours and conversions of vans/buses into tiny homes as a self soothing method, and this fic has the same impact that watching those do. it’s such a fun concept, and it’s so fuckin’ soft, and the dialouge between tk and nolan is just *chef’s kiss*

all candor and style in the crook of your smile by p3trichor

summary: It’s a photo of Nolan on his knees with someones’ fingers in his mouth, lips slick with spit. Travis flicks by it almost too fast and he’s only got seconds to decide if he wants to screenshot it, if he wants to just give up the ghost right then and there. Except Travis’s phone freezes momentarily and then the group refreshes, sidcros87, Bert59 and 14 others took a screenshot!

It’s gone before Travis even has time to process it and he already wasted his replay of the day on a stupid video of a stupid fish that Hayes caught.

Can you send me that screenshot Travis texts Bertuzzi before he can overthink it, his dick already stirring in his sweats. Tuzzi sends back the cry-laughing emoji and then the screenshot before Travis can be too annoyed at him.

Or, Nolan is being weird about Travis's break-up and TK is maybe not straight.

why i love it: i genuinely don’t think i have words for the amount i love this fic. it took me forever to actually read, but it’s absolutely one of my favorite fics, and it’s an absolutely riot to read. carter’s meddling and the presence of tyler bertuzzi both make it extra fun, in my humble opinion

[cleololax]

Lotto | A | Chapter One

MafiaBoss! UndergroundCriminal! Yoongi x Strugglingwaitress! Y/N

Word Count - 3,210

Yoongles has his silver hair in this one ��🏼. Smut will be in future chapters. Enjoy !

The smell of grease and bacon has your brain pounding in your skull. A normally pleasant smell can get old after an 8-hour work shift, 5 days a week. Dave rings the bell once again and you zig-zag between the tables trying to get there, refilling empty coffee mugs and fetching missing condiments on the way. Another day, another measly dollar.

By noon, your feet need a rest and you need a break. The sneakers squeeze your feet so much it feels like they might bring you down a size permanently. Marla comes from the back, chewing that cheap gum that’s bought wholesale. You hand over the paper tab and fill her in before heading into the back room. Lunch is spent eating a stale sandwich with stale lettuce and softening tomatoes that can leave an unpleasant aftertaste. Mentally, there’s a reminder set to see what they have at the food pantry this week.

Hopefully, your brother ate his lunch. It’s not like he likes it anyways and you can't blame him for it. Anxious thoughts are interrupted when Mina opens the door in all of her cheerfulness.

“Y/N, someone is asking for you.” She must see your furrow brows cause she continues.

“Says he needs to see you, it’s been a while. Is he a bad ex? Should I get rid of him?” Her worry makes you inwardly smile and you head to the sink. “No, it’s ok. I’ll be right there.” She leaves with a nod. The smile drops the minute she does. What could he possibly want now? Something uneasy stirs in your stomach. It could be the food just devoured, but there is something more pressing at the moment. The dim hallway is empty and you carefully walk out, counting the black and white tiles. With your head held high, you walk towards the booths.

The blue hair peeks out from the top of the divider. He always sits in the left corner of the room, drinking a lemonade. Always at the same time. Always on time. You walk towards the table and sit down. Taehyung offers a small nod of his head in acknowledgment. Or at least that’s what he says his name is. The first time he had waltzed in, he turned heads. A beautiful man in a crisp Armani suit isn’t exactly discreet. You came out to greet him and asked if you knew each other when he uttered one word. Your father's name. From then on you knew whatever came of this interaction, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. That bastard had ruined your family and still, it's not enough. He continues to cause destruction, long after he’s been gone.

Taehyung's tan skin and blue hair are a striking match. Chocolate eyes study the way you clench your hands together on the table, steadying shaky fingers. Pretending to hold it all together.

“Hello, Y/N.” He asked for your name the first time and you refused to give it. Years of watching sketchy people walk in and out of your apartment teach you to be wary. By the next meeting, he had it on his tongue in greeting. Perhaps a show of how much they really knew and were able to find out what they wanted.

“I have a note for you from Mr. Min. It’s appropriate to now set up a formal meeting. Tonight.” The previous suspicion is proved correct. This elusive Min wants to meet and it has your heart sinking.

“I have my brother to pick up from school.” Demons may thrive and bath in the night, but the rest of us don’t have that luxury to choose.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to make arrangements. We could send one of our men to do it... if you want.” Absolutely fucking not. You may be bad at surviving, but stupid is not in your nature.

“I’ll work it out.” It's the first time you keep eye contact with him since he arrived. While he notices the sudden determination, you notice the prominent mole on his nose. He’s handsome in a catalog type of way. they must have to be, to make the jobs easier. His tan skin glows, even in the gloomy shadow that the grey skies cast into the room.

“There will be a car parked outside your residence to pick you up.” Being in a car with these people doesn’t seem like such a good idea, either. The next words are painful to say.

“It’s ok, I’ll walk.” He quirks a brow and looks sideways at the droplets sliding down the window.

“It’s going to be raining heavy tonight, though.” His deep voice fills you with dread. Especially because there is an underlying tone of sympathy in it. On cue, lightning roars from somewhere above the popcorn ceiling. Hopefully, it’s enough to distract him from the fidgeting.

He gets up to leave but not before looking down at your slumped form, trying to ignore how tired and pitiful you look. Deliver and leave. That’s the job as a messenger. All of the five times he has come here have made him wonder who you are. What put you in the sights of a man like his employer. You are young, but there is so much sadness already. Ironically, he knows how you must feel. Against his better judgment, he fixes his collar and is gone as quickly as he came. Don’t ask, don’t get involved with the debtors. It’s easier that way. All you can do is place your head on the table and zone out for a little. It’s the go-to self-care these days. Just to pretend that you don’t exist in this form in time, that you can blend in with the background and disappear. Not for the first time, you curse your luck, family ties. What have I been roped into?

When the sun sets, your legs are already carrying you down the street before Lina can change her mind. Thankfully, it isn’t pouring down yet. Closing the diner is normally your job and it is a dreaded task. Anything can happen in that timespan and it keeps the adrenaline constantly flowing. A girl alone in a diner with a cash register is a golden opportunity. It’s hard to feel like beyond the windows there aren’t eyes, waiting in dark street corners. After a couple of blocks, the old orange apartment building comes into view. At one time it must have been nicer and that's hard to picture. Mr. Shihan is playing cards with another older man on the sidewalk when you come up to the gate. Their concentration is fully on the game and he doesn’t give his normal greeting. He’s a sweet man with a terrible habit. The courtyard is empty. There are barks and kitchen sinks running, loud televisions that have no consideration. Unfortunately, there are no stairs and after long days, it’s hard not to just want to sit down on the dirty, concrete floor and fall asleep. Before you reach the 5th floor, you wait at the entrance to the hall on the 4th. It’s taken time for you to stop caring what others think of your situation, the disapproving comments, and glances from the teachers at your brother's school and almost anywhere you go. Too young, give him up to the state. Can’t take care of him, look how skinny he is, look how tired. People who look from the outside and have the luxury to judge. You are old enough to take care of him and he belongs with you. You’re the only family you two have left.

It’s only when you need help that it kills you to see Mrs. Litska. She’s an old woman who was able to babysit your brother while you are at work. With one knock, the door opens and you are met with a frown on her crinkled face. You don’t have time to say much, you just give her the envelope of this month’s pay and step inside. Your brother is asleep on the brightly foiled couch in the dim living room that smells of baked bread. The sound of Vivaldi comes through the ancient radio on the side table. His little fingers hold tightly onto the Spider-Man plushie picked out at the thrift store a while ago. It’s seen better days, but they are insuperable. Placing the stuffed item to the side, one arm loops around his shoulders to him up to place his head on your shoulder. The kid could sleep through anything.

The both of you head upstairs into your own living quarters. The lights don’t turn on when the flip is switched and you sigh as you try your best to remain close to the wall.it proves to be hard with your body ready to give out, but you ultimately make it to the room and place your brother into the squeaky bed. The candles are pulled from the drawer and each one settles into every corner of the space nicely.

Finally, you take off your partially wet clothes and put them into a pile by the tub. At least the water is warm as your body slowly leans down into it. Suddenly, the room is quiet and it’s hard to let yourself float away. It’s eerie and not comforting at all. It never is. There is no next destination besides a dreaded one, no way to work yourself towards, hanging on through the blissfully hard distractions that take up your life. They allow you to not stop, to not think about where you could be. Staying busy saves you from reaching into yourself too much.

Minutes tick by, a full half-hour before your skin is soggy and the water is cold. Still, it's better to be here than think that in another hour you could be trafficked and the little boy in the other room sleeping peacefully would have no one left. Mother dead, father gone, sister missing. It brings a chill to the room and it’s suffocating. Once you’re dressed casually, you check in on your brother who is still tucked in, his breathing mellowed out. Here’s to hoping he stays asleep and doesn’t wander through the place at three in the morning to an empty apartment. You kiss his forehead and bring his plushies within reach. They crowd the space around him, cocooning him in.

With one last safety check and blowing out the candles, you lock the door from the outside and move along the hallway down to the stairs.

Your neighborhood is wet and dark at this hour. Thankfully, you are prepared with a switchblade and pepper spray bought last week. It’s three blocks to the main streets where more people walk with umbrellas. Men in suits getting home and families hurrying to their cars. The shop lights flash, shop windows showcasing fried chicken and ice cream. Your stomach automatically grumbles.

Your umbrella holds up for the most part until the lights start to separate and the streets once again turn dim and dirty. The sudden gusts of wind fold it in and it snaps. Soda cans and bags of junk food litter the edges of cement. Shops on this side are all closed, bars and steel curtains drawn. Every little sound has the back of your neck standing up. A tabby cat pops up from under a beat-up truck and it has your heart momentarily stop. Hopefully, it’s around the corner. Your hands shakily open the worn piece of paper to try and locate the street. Luckily, it’s one street down. Once you turn the corner, you head right into a narrow alley. The pepper spray is held onto tightly with clammy hands.

The situation is starting to look sketchier as you go on. Once you reach the dead end, something to the left catches your peripheral vision. Off to the side is another narrow path, much shorter than the one you just went through. It leads directly to a steel door with a neon sign right above. The letters that read Welcome bathe the entrance in blue and red. When you come closer, you notice a little plant to the side. As if it can hide the strangeness of it all when all it does is highlight. Still, the harshness of the surroundings doesn't reach this corner. For a while, you stand there as the rain continues to patter. The sign buzzes and flickers. Your clothes get more soaked but you refuse to move forward. I’m a bad bitch, I’m a bad bitch. I got this. There is vibration coming from the floor beneath your feet. The door opens and a big muscular man gestures for you to come in. This is how it starts. A cliche buff bouncer opening the rope to the gates of hell. He stares and steps aside, gesturing again. Maybe you could have made a run for it before he appeared. Not now. It would be useless. They will come looking. These people always collect. You’ve seen it before. Ultimately, the decision has been made by someone else. There's more to lose if you don't and with a tug of your bag, you trudge forward.

What you had been imagining this past week was apparently absurd compared to the vision that lay in front of you now. There was no blood, no people begging for you to help them escape. No blindfold, just plenty of men and women holding down handles at the slot machines that showed them all the wrong symbols. You walked through the desperation into another area of green felt tables and cards being dealt. The air is stuffy and it smells of smoke and alcohol. Apparently, no one else is bothered. Ahead of you, a tall man is pressing on something in his ear with a meaty hand. Darting your eyes around, you take in more. Before confusion settles in on where to go you find the answer. From the second floor, Taehyung holds onto the railing, looking around. Your eyes meet and it’s strangely intimate. Too intimate. It must not be hard to be found when your clothes are wetting the floor beneath you.

He walks towards you with a small smile. His cobalt blue suit stands out and there’s a dangly earring hanging from one ear. His appearance is much flashier than it was the last time you saw him. With one look behind you, he leads you both up the stairs. On the way, you internally chide yourself for wearing what you are now. The wet clothes make you feel like a little sewer rat. You feel like ratatouille and the confidence that brought you here is dwindling. Instead of a shoddy warehouse that was expected, you are venturing deeper into a maze of halls with red carpeting and gold-rimmed mirrors. Eyes remain forward, but your mind tries to remember every sharp turn, every step that takes you further away from an exit. It is not hard to conjure up terrible, gruesome images and they flash a mile a second. There is only silence and you do not expect anything else. Finally, Taehyung comes to a halt and you almost bump into his back. The door is red and for some reason, it hits you know what big of a mistake you have made. You feel like you’ve been personally delivered to hell’s gates. No one knows where you went tonight. They could get rid of your body and no one would look. It would be easy. Just a poor, young person who could have been tossed or thrown into the river. Another cold case, another victim. He knocks on the door in a pattern of sound and pauses. Must be a code of some sort. Loud noises and laughter get closer until the door opens abruptly and an older gentleman with peppered gray hair greets the man next to you.

“Tae, my boy. Yoongi was about to cheat again.” Tae? Yoongi? This stranger’s excitement has you even more on edge. Your palms are now sore from clenching and cutting at them with overgrown nails. Taehyung moves forward and he smiles as an arm is put around his shoulder. There’s conversation but you don’t hear any of it. Somehow you get yourself inside the room and the door shuts right after. There’s even more smoke and laughter and a champagne bottle being popped somewhere. It all whizzes by. On the outside, your face must seem neutral but the inside is ringing with alarms and warnings. It feels like there’s a hole in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere along the way, the older gentleman named Lee went off to talk to some people on a chase couch against the wall.

There is a long gambling table at the end of this well-sized room and it seems to be the destination. When you get closer, there are about eight people around it. Mostly men with frowns. It must be the small number of chips in front of them. That doesn’t matter a second later though. Not when you catch the sight of the man sitting at the head of it. There’s a force that seems to be pulling everything in space to him, everybody. Bluish Silver hair catches the lighting of the small chandelier above as he gets up with a flute in between pale hands. His fingers grab a couple of chips from his pile which is no doubt the biggest of them all. They twirl in his ring-clad fingers. The veins line them and it’s hard to not stare. The robe that hangs off his lean figure looks decadent and expensive, so much so that it would stop the question of why he is wearing it entirely. There’s so much to take in. His face is gorgeous. His gummy smile numbs the feeling of panic that set in before. He gets closer, or perhaps you do. The two of you walk up to him. Realization dawns in then. Fuck My life.

“Mr.Min, this is miss Y/N.”

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Hello! I was wondering if I could get some childhood headcanons for the mercs, thank you!

I’m taking a break from the longer headcanons - I’m finishing all my existing requests before opening up my headcanons back up - so I’ll do this one to get the gears turning. There are two here, but I will do more if prompted:

TF2 Merc Childhood Headcanons

Spy:

Spy was a shy child. Painfully shy.

His family was poor, so he had to steal most necessities. By the time he was twelve, he could hop or climb over most fences and hide in most buildings.

The entire reason he became a spy was seeing poorly translated VHS tapes of American espionage films. Spy was frustrated that he never looked the part - he had no suit, no cigarette, no girls.

But, not to worry, he would get all of those things when he went to Britain for schooling.

As a child, though, all he could do was pretend.

He had a “gun” made out of sticks and rope, mimed having a tie, hat, and overcoat, and drew a few shaky feminine features onto a pillow (whom he dubbed Mademoiselle Coussin).

This change in play actually helped him socially: whenever he felt nervous, he would just pretend he was a spy instead of a petite, messy-haired boy with freckles. This caused his popularity among the street boys to spike, and they were soon at his beck and call.

However, despite his fulfilling life as a street rat, he turned back into that timid mouse of a boy whenever he was home. He never dared use his charm on his parents. He already caught a flogging when he tried slicking his hair back.

This led to an odd, one-sided relationship with life where he put on two different masks for two different places, but could only be his true self when he was alone.

He learned to stifle and release emotions at will (keeping himself from crying when he was hit and then letting the tears flow when he was fooling unsuspecting tourists), and was cynical about any relationship that didn’t benefit him immediately or at all.

Except for one.

Every Christmas, a specific fruit vendor, an elderly man named Lucas, came to town. He would give one piece of fruit, usually an apple or peach, to every child that came to his stand. They never had to pay - they only had to say Merry Christmas.

Spy only hung around the stand for the first few years - his house was so far away that by the time he got there, most of the fruit was gone - but one Christmas, Lucas beckoned him over.

The vendor reached beneath his cart and pulled out a single orange, which happened to be Spy’s favorite.

“Joyeux Noël.”

“J-joyeux Noël, monsieur.”

Lucas held out the orange, which Spy accepted gratefully and held in two tight hands.

“Merci beaucoup, monsieur! Merci, merci!”

Lucas only smiled and waved his hand.

This became a tradition for many more years.

Spy would come to the cart, wish Lucas a warm holiday, and would receive an orange that had been saved for him.

But, one Christmas, Lucas didn’t come. Nor the next one. Or the one after that.

Even though Spy knew he was never going to get an orange from that cart again, he still went to that street every Christmas until he left France.

Now, whenever Spy receives an orange, either as a mandated vitamin supplement or if he happens to steal one from a witness’s house, he puts it in his suit, only eating it in his smoke room.

And if he is feeling particularly nostalgic, he’ll, just like he did when he was a child, eat the peel.

Heavy:

Heavy had a wonderful childhood compared to most of mercs.

His father was only vaguely present - and later absent - but his mother was a huge force in his life.

Though Heavy was never bullied exactly, since he was big even as a child, he was ostracized for his size and general clumsiness.

He often broke things, hurt other kids and even staff, and put holes in the wall simply because he was a pre-schooler in an elementary schooler sized body.

But, no matter how many calls she got from the school, Heavy’s mom knew that he wasn’t violent - all she asked was for him to try and fix what he had broken and apologize to the people he had hurt.

“My child, a bear may be big, but they are strong and beautiful. So are you.”

One day, after a particularly rough week of shattered vases and bruised classmates, Heavy ran from school into a random building, blinded by tears and shame. He ended up ticketless in a large theater, but he was only a child, so no one noticed. They assumed he was just someone’s kid.

He ended up on the roof, breathless and gasping between sobs.

Suddenly, he heard an orchestra beginning to play. He looked through a glass pane built into the roof and gazed at the stage below.

He saw one petite ballerina making her way across the stage, doing a few twirls as she went. Then, a much bigger man, who was almost as big as Heavy’s father was, came from stage right and joined in the dance.

Throughout their performance, Heavy kept wincing, expecting the enormous man to crush the small woman. But he never did. The performer moved with grace and a quickness that the boy didn’t expect.

Something awakened in him - a realization that he too could be nimble, despite his size. As the performance ended, Heavy went back down the stairs, his confidence renewed.

He became fascinated with ballet, and watched tapes of shows over and over again until he knew all the steps by heart. At first, he only moved his feet so his arms wouldn’t break anything. Then, as he grew more controlled, he learned how to dance and step around things.

His mother got less calls home, more and more kids began to trust and like him.

He still wasn’t popular by any means, but at least he could play soccer without breaking someone’s arm.

With that success came interests in all things quick, dainty, and detailed. Heavy learned how to knit, paint, and play a bit of piano. He was never very skilled at any of them except for knitting, he enjoyed practicing his coordination and mitigating his clumsiness.

But, one day, Heavy made the mistake of bringing his knitting to school. It was around Christmas, and he had to finish his sister’s sweater so he could wrap it.

The boys, who now knew that Heavy wouldn’t hurt a fly, started teasing him mercilessly, calling him a sow (female pig), a bitch, an old crone, and all sorts of other nasty names.

Heavy, with growing frustration, said something along the lines of, “Will it be your dead mother, then, who will mend your shirt when you are old? Or will you willingly catch your death?”

What Heavy didn’t know was that one particular child’s mother died a few months ago.

The boy went into a rage, giving Heavy a black eye and a bleeding nose before he finally took him by the underarms and held him away from him like a rabid chihuahua. Finally, the boy tired himself out. The other kids had since run away, not wanting to get in trouble or get beat up by Heavy.

The bully, after finding that he was helpless to the situation, began to cry, letting out all the emotions he had been shoving down in order to save face in front of his abusive father.

Heavy went straight into protective mode, having dealt with his younger sisters and their own grievances. After the bully calmed down a bit, he admitted his feelings, and how awful his circumstances were.

Heavy didn’t say anything much, but just handed him a pair of knitting needles and a ball of yarn. The boy learned to knit that day, and after Christmas, many other abused boys came seeking the same kind of closure and validation.

He made many friends this way, and it pretty much eradicated his bullying problem - so much so that he was pretty much untouchable to anyone looking to make trouble.

Though violence is how Heavy makes his money now, the merc learned from the very beginning that the best way through life is a gentle touch.

[stillebesat]

Be My Dad

Sanders Sides: Janus, Logan  A Vague AU Writing Prompt: @wildhorsewolf​ asked: Guess I'm a parent now with Janus being the dad and Logan being the kid Blurb: Janus has no interest in being a parental figure to a kid, but trying to convince the universe of that is another thing entirely.  Fic Type: Familial Soulmate!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Mentions of Scars  Taglist in Reblog.

To most souls, a food court was a necessary evil. Loud. Lots of people. But plenty of food options all together in one place. Perfect for those who liked a variety of choices or those who had picky eaters in tow.

It was a place to meet up with friends, family, or business associates. A place where one could sit back and observe society at work. To see people at their best...and most definitely at their worst. 

There was something soothing about the chaos that Janus enjoyed...as a spectator. He could never imagine being right in the middle of it.

Not unless he was doing what he was doing right now. Trying to hide in plain sight in the middle of a crowd.

After all. He was thirty now. Single. Childless.

Obviously a menace to society in a universe that seemed obsessed with everyone being part of a ‘family.’ 

A Universe that had decreed that all adults who remained childless by the age of thirty, would then be subjected to being bombarded with children in need of a proper parent figure to bond with in their lives.

He exhaled, absently brushing against the raised scar on his cheek, barely looking up as a child burst out wailing nearby.

He’d checked earlier. That particular wailer hadn’t had the golden sparks. It meant he was safe. 

For now.

He ran a hand through his hair, flipping another page in his notebook before he continued scrawling on the page. Maybe Virgil had actually been onto something when he said he was vanishing into the wilderness of Europe for the rest of his life. 

Sure, Janus had laughed six months ago when his best friend had turned thirty and begun complaining about all the kids coming out of the woodwork to ask him to be their Dad.

It’d seemed impossible at the time. To have children want to come up to Mr. Shadows Incarnate and expect Virgil to put them to bed and tell a bedtime story.

Now though, he understood why Vee had become more reluctant to leave his house as the year had worn on. Because the mini spawns really had come out of nowhere once his own thirtieth birthday hit. 

And it was awful. 

Wherever he went, it was inevitable that some child would approach him, shimmering golden sparks floating around them indicating that they were looking for a Parent Bond. 

It was also as inevitable that he would scare them away just as quickly. 

After all, his halfmoon scar and creepy yellow eyes had caused plenty of kids to scream and run with a single look years before his thirtieth birthday. 

No, at least Virgil had a bit of that shy emo charm that made him more approachable, even if the merest appearance of anyone under four feet had his best friend going pale as a corpse and ducking out before the kid could take more than two steps towards him.

Privately he was certain Virgil would find a kid perfect for him before the year was out, despite his best friend’s attempt to avoid the inevitable.

He knew Virge would make a good dad. Compassionate. Protective. His best friend had a dozen other traits that would benefit him when the right child flared with him. 

Unlike Janus.

Who could make a grown man cry with less than four words and a glower.  

No. He couldn’t imagine having any child coming to him in the middle of the night expecting comfort. 

He knew he was intimidating.

He knew he could be scary.

It wouldn’t be fair to subject a child to that on a daily basis.

Honestly, it felt like a slap to the face that no matter how much he achieved, how many degrees he got, or businesses he owned, or careers he pursued, or money he made…

The universe felt that one couldn’t be complete unless said person also had a screaming, slobbering, dirty child in tow.

Janus ran a hand through his hair, again brushing the crescent scar on his cheek as he looked up long enough to watch a cluster of mothers with their dozen and a half children in strollers rush by, seeking salvation at the nearest set of golden arches with at least four of the kids already screaming for their happy meal toy. 

Even if he did make a connection with any kid brave enough to approach him...Janus could never imagine trying to coerce a screaming brat into eating their chicken nuggets all by himself. Could never stand to walk around with food, slobber or worse, vomit stains on his best suits like a badge of honor. Could never be patient enough to listen to the long and rambling and pointless stories he’d heard multiple parents suffer through while observing them here in the food court.

No. There was no way Janus would allow the universe a say in how he ran these next five years of his life.

He had goals.

Life plans.

And he didn’t need some interfering Being with an obviously unhealthy parent complex ruining that.

The scrapping of a chair being pulled back broke through the gentle hum the noise the chaos of the food court had receded to, causing Janus to look up from his paper in time to see a boy, wearing a faded black long sleeved shirt with matching glasses and thankfully older than the screaming toddler throwing french fries six tables over, plop down in the seat across from him.

A child. With golden sparks shimmering in the air around him. 

Oh goodie.

Janus barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. And here he’d thought that the fact that he’d caused a pair of twin girls, a baby, three boys, six preteens, and four other children under the age of five to scream in terror and/or burst into tears before the lunch rush had even started would have been enough for the universe to call it quits for the day on attempting a Parent Bond.

“I have a prospersition for you.” The boy said, making eye contact. Janus blinked, pen pausing mid stroke as he raised an eyebrow to the child. Prosper...prosper? Oh. “A prop-osition?” He asked, careful to pronounce the word correctly. 

The boy nodded once, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Prop-osition” he repeated, saying it properly this time. “Will you listen to it? Please?” 

Oh, now there was a please? The kid hadn’t even said hello. Janus exhaled, running a hand through his hair, again fingering the raised scar on his cheek, eyes darting about without much hope for any sign of a frantic adult looking for their wayward offspring as he sat back, tapping his pen on the table. “I’m busy.”  

The boy’s eyes flashed. “No you’re not.”

Janus scoffed, gesturing to his papers. “I assure you that I a--”

“Are doing what you do every Friday. You’re not busy. You just sit here. All day. Reading. Writing.”  

Observant. Janus frowned, again glancing around for a guardian figure. He didn’t think children thought much beyond eating, sleeping, and playing with their peers. “That is considered being busy by most people, I don’t have time to tal--”  

The boy shifted to his knees, the golden sparks dancing around him as he carefully placed eight quarters on the table before pushing the pile over to him. “For your time.” He said, looking up to meet Jansus’s eyes once more.

Clever. Not quite the amount he usually took for a consultation, but he doubted a child could come up with that much cash. Still. It was the first time one of these golden sparked spawns of the devil decided to pay him instead of screaming bloody murder. 

Janus exhaled, laying down his pen, sitting up as he clasped his fingers together, resting his chin on them. “I’m listening.” Though he doubted anything good would come from this proposition. He could already predict the direction this would go.

The boy relaxed, though he stayed half kneeling on his chair. “I need you,” his mouth twisted slightly, grey eyes glittering. “to pretend to be my Father.” 

Father? Ha. Called it. “No.”

Golden sparks flared as the boy lifted his chin. “You didn’t even ask ‘Why.’”

He smirked, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach as he pushed the coins back. “I don’t need to.” It was obvious why the kid wanted to play pretend. After all, the sparks surrounding him were only visible to those like Janus. Single. Between the age of thirty and thirty-five. Childless. If the kid needed a fake dad...well this wasn’t his first rodeo with the concept. “You either need protection from some bullies, which--” He gestured to himself. “You think I look scary enough to intimidate them.” Though not scary enough to keep the kid from bugging him in the first place. “Or else you have lied to your friends about who your Dad is or what he does and so--”

“You’re wrong.”   

Janus cut off, tilting his head. “Am I?” He was certain he wasn’t. 

“You are.” The boy kept eye contact, grey blue eyes hard as stone. 

It would be an intimidating gaze once he grew older, Janus was sure. “Enlighten me.”

The boy pushed the coins back across the table. “The Aquarium is having a Father/Son day today. I want to go.” 

Not what he meant by enlighten, but he’d humor the kid. “So?”

The boy rolled his eyes, shifting to his knees so he could better rest his arms on the table. “I can’t exactly partisiis--partissee--par--” 

“Participate?”

He nodded. “I can’t exactly participate if I go by myself, dummy.”

Dummy? Who just helped the kid pronounce ‘participate?’ 

Janus shoved the quarters back to the boy before picking up his pen, tapping it against the table. He could see the kid’s problem though. It made sense why the aquarium wouldn’t want to let hordes of little demon spawn run around tapping on the glass, licking the floors, and breaking things unsupervised. “I’m not spending fifty dollars to play your Dad, kid, just so you can look at some fish.” 

A pet store would work just as well and wouldn’t cost a dime. If he was willing to go along with this.

Which he wasn’t.

He didn’t even like fish. Not since that stupid childhood fishing accident that had given him the lovely scar on his face in the first place.

No way would he willingly go along with some brat to a place filled to the brim with the creatures.

Despite how brilliant of a scheme it was. One Janus would have used himself though under different circumstances. 

Though he supposed, if he felt like admitting it, which he didn’t, but he still---it….hurt in a way, that the kid, even having the sparks, just wanted to use him to get in to see some boring fish instead of trying out a real Trial with him to see if they had any sort of parental bond. 

It was a stupid feeling. 

He should be used to being used. 

The boy adjusted his frames, barely blinking as he shoved the quarters back across the table, staring Janus down. “Adults get in for only ten dollars today. Kids get in free. If.” He emphasized the word. “Their Father brings them.” He shifted in his seat, pulling out a twenty and slid it across the table. “For your ticket.” He said simply, eyes flashing. “I’m only asking for your time. I don’t want to go on a Trial with you. I don’t need or want a Dad. I just need an adult with the time on his hands to pretend to be one and let me esplore the place for two measlely hours.”

Double ouch. At least some kids attempted to do an actual Trial Run with him to see if their sparks would Flare before being so blunt in telling him he wouldn’t be their Dad. 

Janus frowned, already shaking his head. “Kid, I don’t--” 

The boy pulled out another twenty, placing it on the table. “Two hours.” He said simply.  

“You don’t even know me--” Sure, he knew the boy knew he was in the Trial stage of life since the stupid floating sparks thing, even if he couldn’t see his own, went both ways. But that didn’t mean that he should just shove--

The boy placed a third twenty on the table. 

Janus exhaled, running a hand through his hair, again fingering his scar as he glared at the child. “You’re seriously bribing me? Where did you even get that much cash?” Hopefully it wasn’t stolen, but he’d applaud the boy for being so prolific in his thievery. 

“Not important.” The boy stated, pulling out a fourth twenty without breaking eye contact. 

Why was he being so persistent?! Any other child would have run away by now. 

“Why me?” He demanded, leaning forward, sneering in a way he knew made his eyes look even more creepy. “Why not bribe some other--”

The boy hesitated, a fifth twenty already in his fingers as his steely gazed wavered. “If I tell you why, will you go with me to the Aquarium?” 

That was hardly a fair exchange. The answer could be super simple and he’d be stuck with the kid for two hours. “I’m going to stick with my ‘I’m scary theory,’” Janus said instead, gesturing to his face. That was the usual reason kids gave in most circumstances. 

The boy frowned, lifting his chin. “I can be scary enough on my own without your help.” He said shoving the sleeve of his shirt up, revealing an angry red corded scar that wrapped around his arm from wrist to shoulder. “We match, kinda. Your scar looks similar. Makes it easier to pretend that you’re my Dad. That we were in the same accident.” He pushed the pile of money towards him. “And if anyone suspects you aren’t my birth father, then the sparks will show them that we’re on a Trial and that our scars mean we’re meant to be.” 

Meant to be. 

It took a lot of effort to not touch the crescent mark on his cheek. To ignore the fluttering in his chest at those words.

They’re just pretty little lies. 

Sure, there were ongoing theories that families all shared a similar trait that marked them. Whether that was having a mole on the same part of their stomach, sharing a taste in mustard, having an allergy to hay, hair having the same cowlick, or having similar looking scars--Janus kept his hands firmly on the table as he pulled his eyes back up to meet the kids. 

It was hearsay though. Nothing had ever been proven. Not when the sparks flaring between parent and child was a far more accurate indicator that they were meant to be a family. 

No, he highly doubted anyone would Flare with him during this five year tortrue period. Not even this kid despite the sparks dancing between them. 

Janus took a steadying breath. It was fine. He didn’t need a family. Not even a pretend one for two hours. He was better off alone now that Virgil had harred off to who knew where. “How long do I have to wait before you run out of twenties and give up?” He said, keeping his voice cool. “Because I’m not taking your bribe, kid, regardless of the amount. You’d be better off hiring a nanny or something.” 

Though he was curious just how much the boy thought it would take to convince him to go along with this farce. 

The kid made a face. “I don’t want to be coddled the entire time.” He snapped, the fifth twenty vanishing as he shoved his sleeve down. “All anyone ever does is treat me like I’m breakable since--” he gestured to his arm, the scars once more hidden. “And I’m sick of it. You look like you’d happily let me fall off a bridge if I wasn’t careful and I just...I just--” He shook his head. “I need to not be cared about for a bit.” 

Let him fall off a bridge? Ouch. Janus focused on relaxing his clenched hands, one finger at a time. “So you have a death wish? I’m not gonna be complacent to--”

The boy growled, slamming his hands on the table, steel grey eyes hardening even as they shimmered with unshed tears. “No. I just want to look at the fish.” He hissed. “I want to esplore. Learn. SEE. Without having a grown-up hovering over me like I’m freaking china. All you would have to do is stay near enough to keep any other metaling adults away. That’s all I want. For two hours. To be treated like a normal kid.” His hand clenched as he took a breath, bottom lip trembling. “I thought you of all people would understand that.” He whispered, eyes flickering to the scar and back.

It took a lot of effort to not touch his face. To maintain eye contact. 

Sure.

He understood. 

Janus had wasted years chasing that particular dream throughout high school and well into his first couple of years at college. 

It had all been for nothing. 

People judged the book by the cover. Few ever took the time to look deeper. 

And it sucked that Janus was being forced to reckon with the fact that if he didn’t go with this kid and pretend to be his Dad, he’d be like every other adult unwilling to give the boy a chance to be ‘normal.’  

…Great. Just. Great.  

He’d just been guilted into spending two hours looking at the fish. 

Janus broke eye contact, cursing under his breath as he shoved his papers into his book bag and stood, grabbing his jacket and hat off the chair. 

Maybe he should follow Virgil’s lead and disappear into the wilderness for the next four and a half years if the kids were going to start pulling this type of act on him. 

“You got a name, kid?” He asked, fishing out a single twenty from the stack before shoving the pile back at the boy. Enough for the ticket. That’s it. 

The boy caught his breath, eyes going wide. “You mean--”

How could eyes hard as steel one second go so soft like freshly fallen ash the next?

You know what. He didn’t want to know. If the kid knew how to do puppy dog eyes, then he knew how. That was that, but after today Janus would not be falling for them again.

“Name.” He repeated, impatiently gesturing for the boy to follow him as he tugged his hat down over his eyes. “Else I’ll make one up and I guarantee you will not like it.” 

The boy was by his side in a flash, golden sparks swirling. “Logan.” He said, adjusting his glasses with a small smile. “My name is Logan.”

[fellulahh]

Ahhhhhh!!! Your Dad scenarios are so cute 😭❤ Requesting scenarios for the brothers and Diavolo with their new born child please 😭❤

You want more soft demon dad content? I’ll give you more soft demon dad content!😸💓

~

The brothers and Diavolo with their newborn baby

Lucifer:

- he tries to be serious when he’s around anyone else but then the baby would coo and that’s it, soft Lucifer is here and he’s thriving

- He’s very protective, if anybody else is holding their baby apart from him or MC, he watches them like a hawk

- *Lucifer introducing baby to Mammon* “That’s your uncle Mammon” “aw” “he’s an idiot.” “wait what”

- If the baby does anything, even a sneeze, he will gush over how smart he/she is

- *looks to see if anybody is watching* *does baby voice* hello my precious little bubu *MC comes in* *Lucifer clears throat*

- Every time he comes home from RAD or whatever duties he was doing, he goes straight to their baby and instantly all of his stress melts away when he sees MC holding him/her in her arms

Mammon:

- Their baby has him wrapped around their finger

- He spoils them absolutely rotten

- Insists he always carries the baby when they’re out and whines when MC wants to hold him/her

- “MC did you see that??” “MC look at him/her!”

- He dresses the baby in clothes exactly like his

- Thanks MC daily for making him a Dad

- “Mammon get your glasses off the baby!!”

- Pesters MC for more babies

- He’s completely converted, he’s a full on Dad now. He’s decided him and MC are going to have at least six kids together

- Tells the baby the story of how his/her Mummy fell in love with him every night (pretends that he wasn’t absolutely infatuated with MC as soon as he first saw her)

Levi:

- he sits the baby’s rocker beside him so they can both watch him play his games

- Makes the baby give him a little bro fist every time he wins

- Gets distracted from his game though every time the baby coos

- He will just sit there and smile down at the little bub with rosey cheeks before eventually continuing

- He’s a big kid still despite now being a dad

- “Did you just make the baby dab?”

- He will happily do all of the nasty jobs (nappy changing) just so that he can spend even more time with their baby

- Has to stop himself from waking the baby up “but he/she is just so cute!”

- MC often finds Levi leant over the cot just gazing at their child (which she thinks is adorable)

Satan:

- the baby could get away with murder around Satan because he’d turn a blind eye to everything he/she does. He’s absolutely in love with their little bundle of joy! He could never bring himself to tell them off

- Reads to the baby all the time

- He doesn’t care how soft he’s become with the baby in front of the brothers

- Always has to be holding the baby in some way, even if he’s reading, cooking, writing etc he will make sure he uses only one hand because his other arm is carrying their lil bub

- He’s the proudest dad/boyfriend

- Gets up in the night to look after the restless baby, he always insists MC gets her sleep

- She gave birth to their baby so Satan feels like he must do everything he can to thank her

Asmo:

- constantly showing off their baby whether it be to his brothers or to random demons in the street

- Dresses the baby in the most adorable outfits

- As much as MC hates to admit it, the baby does take after their father in terms of looks

- “Aren’t we cute, MC?” *holds baby up next to his face*

- Lays down on the floor next to the baby constantly, admiring how cute he/she is

- Him, MC and the baby are always going out together, whether it be to the park or the shopping mall, they’re always together hand in hand as they push their buggy

Beel:

- constant nose boops

- Carries the baby around everywhere in a little pouch when him and MC go out in Devildom

- He always hugs MC while carrying the baby, he’s just so unbelievably happy

- Gets a lil dad bod

- MC always comes in the kitchen to find him feeding the baby and she can’t help but laugh at the mess he makes, “is that baby food in your eyebrow?”

- “Did you just eat the baby food?”

- He always falls asleep leant against the cot with baby toys in his hands

- Eskimo kisses!

- When baby’s in bed he gives MC unlimited attention, smothering her in affection

- He’s in love with their little family!

Belphie:

- doesn’t ever want to be separated from the baby

- Schedules his naps so that they’re in line with their bub’s

- MC always walks into their room to find Belphie and baby passed out on the bed together, with baby asleep on his chest

- Laughs whenever the baby coughs up on Lucifer

- One day when the baby won’t sleep, he puts his cow pillow in the cot and instantly the baby calms

- He can’t find it in his heart to steal his pillow back

- Loves the fact that their baby is a spitting image of his/her mother

- Also loves the fact that their baby is half human: this baby is his second chance

Diavolo:

- Introduces the baby to Devildom like Simba in the lion king

- Jumps out of bed if he hears the baby cry before MC even has the chance to think about attending to their baby

- Showers MC in compliments, *holding baby* “There’s your gorgeous Mummy!”

- Brings their baby to meetings - even important ones - and just has him/her sat on his lap as he has important discussions

- He may be the future King of Devildom but he puts his family before his duty

- Has a portrait painted of the three of them as soon as MC has fully recovered from giving birth

- Him and MC spend every night looking down at their sleeping baby, their faces full of admiration

- Holds the baby in his arms and sings to him/her, swaying his body as he gets them to fall asleep

- Buys the baby a little tailored suit exactly like his RAD uniform

[dc41896]

Family Affair

Pairing: Ransom DrysdalexBlack Reader

⚠️: Harsh words from a very despicable family, fluff

“No, absolutely not.”

“Ransom come on-,”

“I said no and that’s my final answer,” he states attempting to return his attention to the newspaper in his hands until you pull it from his grasp. Standing in front of him with arms crossed, he sighs knowing you were far from letting the topic go.

“Ransom I’m not saying you have to give away the Beemer. I’m just saying we might want to look into getting a more family friendly car that a child can actually fit in comfortably.”

“What about your car? It’s fine.”

“You’re right it is. But poopie isn’t always going to be with me, which is why your car should also be safe for them.”

“You know, we’ve been going back and forth about this yet we haven’t even asked the person who’s gonna be riding in the car,” he replies scooting forward, gently grabbing your sides coming closer to your recently visible bump. “What do you say? You think daddy should retire the Beemer?”

Ear pressed against your stomach, you fail trying to hide your giggle as he pretends to listen to your unborn child.

“They said that they see nothing wrong with daddy’s car. Oh and they would rather you not call them poopie.”

“Fine Ransom, do whatever you want about the car,” you sigh giving back his crumpled paper before moving to step over his leg. You feel his grip tighten as you’re brought down to sit on his lap and his lips peck your neck.

“Alright alright, if it’ll make you like me again I’ll look into another car. I’m telling you now though, I’d walk everywhere before I buy a minivan.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you laugh. “There is something else I want to talk to you about though.”

“Hmm?”

“...I think it’s time to tell your parents.”

His body tenses under you and jaw clenches as he now focuses on your stomach with thumb gliding back and forth over your belly button. Every time you brought up anything dealing with his family that tended to be his reaction, silence paired with an unspoken disdain as if you mentioned his worse enemy.

“Y/N you know how I feel about that.”

“I know but it’s their first grandchild-,”

“It could be their 10th grandchild and I still wouldn’t want them near us.”

“I just don’t want them feel like they missed out on anything and then get even more pissed.” Hands caressing his face, you kiss his lips before meeting his intense blue eyes.

“See how you’re thinking about their feelings? Actually being a decent human being who’s caring and beautiful inside and out? They’re nothing like that and exactly why I don’t want you, or our child, in the same room as them.”

“I get you’re looking out for us, but I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

“I’m not saying you can’t but Y/N, I’m telling you my family is not the kind where you can warm their cold hearts like some kids movie. I just hope you fully get that.”

“I’m not expecting them to join hands and break out in song like they’re straight out the sound of music. I just want them to know Ransom,” you answer.

He still didn’t want to do it, but he could see your point. The least you both could do was let them know so they couldn’t turn things back on you saying you hid their grandchild from them. Releasing a long breath through his nostrils, he lowers your hands kissing the inside of your wrists.

“Okay, we’ll tell them. But that’s all they need to know.”

“Okay, and you try not to worry,” you smile resting your forehead against his. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“For both of your sakes, I hope you’re right,” he responds rubbing your belly.

———

The entire car ride to his grandfather’s estate, Ransom was quiet staring straight ahead at the road. He was irritable the whole morning as he trudged back and forth throughout the house getting himself ready. This followed in the car where he simply turned on the radio not uttering a word and leaving you watching the autumn trees pass outside. You know it was all due to his nerves for what was to come and wished there was something you could say to instantly reassure him. Instead though, you simply took his free hand in yours kissing his knuckles.

It was a small gesture, but you wanted to show him you were there.

“Thank you,” he speaks just above a whisper gently squeezing your hand back before placing it on your thigh. Soon after, an older yet well kept looking house became closer in sight causing you to awe in its vintage beauty.

Really calling it a house wouldn’t do it justice. It was like a mini mansion with all the windows that lined the second level and reminded you of a small section of the hogwarts dormitories from the pointed rooftops.

“It’s not as great as it looks,” he says parking the car. “It creaks so loud you can probably hear it outside, gets drafty at night, and some of the furniture has that stale smell you can’t seem to get rid of no matter what you do to it.”

Guiding his chin to look at you, you lean closer capturing his lips with yours as his hand finds the back of your neck holding you close until both of you need to breathe.

“Try to relax, okay?” He nods with a soft smile letting you go so you both can make your way towards the front door.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. It was only supposed to be my parents and grandpa, not the whole family!” It wasn’t until now being halfway to the front steps that you both noticed the extra cars near the front of the house.

“You’d think they’d respect this one wish-,”

“Hey it’s okay. Yea we have more of an audience now, but we’ll be fine. Maybe somehow this’ll work out better for us?”

“Darling you really are too naive at times,” he sarcastically smiles.

“And you can be the biggest grouch I’ve ever met, but I still love you,” you reply mimicking his expression before kissing his cheek as he chuckles.

His arm barely extended enough to reach the knob before the door swung open revealing a middle aged man with white hair and a style similar to Ransom’s from the sweater under his open fleece jacket and jeans over deck shoes.

“Good thing you still look the same after a year or else we wouldn’t know you at all,” he states with arms crossed in front of him.

“Hello father, lovely to see you too.”

“Still as sarcastic as ever too. And who do we have here?”

“Oh I’m Y/N, nice to meet you Mr. Drysdale,” you sweetly smile holding out your hand which he shakes with an amused look painted on his face.

“So this is the special guest we’ve been waiting on,” he grins. “And please call me Richard.”

“Speaking of I thought we agreed it was only gonna be us. Why is the whole family here?”

“Walt came by to talk business with your grandfather so of course Donna and Jacob followed behind. Joni came when she found out everyone else was here because she didn’t want to be ‘left out’,” a lady not far behind Walt in age explains, heels clicking against the hardwood as she approaches the door in her mauve colored suit looking every bit as rich as you’d imagine someone to look. “Richard are you gonna let them in or keep them outside the entire time?”

“Oh sorry, come in,” he motions stepping aside letting the both of you enter.

Although a bit cluttered with the eccentric knickknacks collected by the family over time, it was still just as beautiful inside as it was out, if not more.

“So I’m guessing you’re here to tell me you’re playing house with my son?,” she asks taking a drink from her glass.

“Um well technically yes, but-,”

“Jesus let them sit down first Linda,” Richard shakes his head leading you to the couch as Ransom follows close behind. Of course being the stranger in the house all eyes were on you as you sat down. “So Y/N, what’s your poison?”

“I’ll actually just take water, thank you.”

“Joni, Walt, Donna, Jacob, this is Ransom’s guest Y/N, Y/N these are Ransom’s aunts, his uncle, and youngest cousin,” Linda points respectively before sitting in front of you with legs crossed.

“So what do we owe the pleasure of this little visit Ransom? Need more money from Harlan to do God knows what on some private island?,” Joni chuckles sipping from her wine glass.

“Actually my business here is with my parents which has nothing to do with neither of you leeches,” Ransom quips placing an arm around your shoulder.

“Oh very classy. Y/N I may not know you, but I’d really advise you to get out from under this one as soon as you can,” Walt replies sitting on the arm of his wife’s chair.

“No ‘may not’, you don’t know her, so what makes you think you’re in the position to give her advice of any kind?”

“Okay boys enough,” Linda interjects with a raised hand. “Ransom what’s going on?”

In perfect timing, Richard walks in setting your water down in front of you before sitting in the empty chair next to a waiting Linda who seemed like the type not liking to do so.

“Go ahead,” Ransom whispers in your ear giving a reassuring nod as you sit up a bit straighter with hands clasped in your lap.

“Well, Linda and Richard, we wanted to meet with you to let you know that you’re gonna be grandparents.”

Just staring at you unimpressed with your announcement, you feel your stomach sink disappointed in their lack of enthusiasm or any reaction really.

“Here we go again,” she lowly grins swallowing the last of her brown liquor. “Listen honey you seem like a nice girl, but do you know how many of that boy’s ex’s or random hookups have come here saying the same thing expecting a check from us?”

“Unlike all of those other girls, which it was only four, she’s serious,” Ransom adds.

“Four too many if you ask me,” Joni mumbles.

“Well no one did so why are you still here?!”

“Mrs. Drysdale-,”

“It’s Linda or Mrs. Thrombey-Drysdale dear,” she corrects refilling her glass.

“Linda I’m not here looking for some handout. I just wanted the both of you to know that Ransom and I are expecting so you’d be in their life.”

“How do you know it’s his?,” Richard asks causing both you and Ransom to turn your heads looking as if he’d cursed you using every word under the sun.

“Excuse me?”

“Like Linda said, you seem like a nice girl but we have to make sure we’re not just falling for the innocent farm girl routine here.”

“Plus with you kids now and your wild live free ways, it’s a valid question I’d say,” Donna states making your blood boil to levels you’d never experienced before.

“Yes Ransom is the father. Would you like me to tell you where and when we had sex too so you can add it up yourselves?”

“Hey no need to get an attitude with us,” Walt says trying to calm an apparently offended Donna. “As you know this is a prominent family with assets we’re just trying to protect. Plus think of our patriarch. Bringing all this drama to him in his old age and with his ailments might send the poor man to the hospital.”

“Look I understand, trust me I do. But Ransom is literally right here with me which should be proof enough everything I’m saying is true.”

“And it would be if we knew Ransom wasn’t money hungry and trying to make sure his inheritance was still intact,” Linda says peering over her cup.

“I started my own writing company with the money I had left getting NOTHING MORE from grandpa. I literally said screw my inheritance before I stormed out last year and never came back!,” Ransom yells becoming more frustrated as well.

“People’s minds can change,” Jacob quietly speaks making you scoff before standing up to walk out the room.

“Oh, and before I go,” you start, lifting your sweater just enough so everyone could see your bump. “It’s a real bump. No fake belly or anything if that was the next question.” You didn’t give anyone a chance to say anything more, not even Ransom to stop you from leaving, before you rushed out the room through the kitchen to wherever your feet would guide you.

“Couldn’t leave it alone could you?,” Ransom sighs.

“Well maybe we wouldn’t have to do all that if you would’ve kept it in your pants in the past!,” Linda shouts as Ransom just shakes his head.

“All that booze is really getting to your head,” he chuckles to himself standing to his feet. “Those other girls all came by themselves, wrote letters, or emails claiming those things. Not one did I sit there with them letting them spew lies because I KNEW THEY WERE LYING!”

“Well if this one’s so different, why has it taken a year for us to meet her?!”

“BECAUSE OF THIS!! This dysfunction I’ve had to deal with that I didn’t want to subject my wife or unborn child to!”

“Wife?,” everyone asks at the same time looking as if he’d just grown a second head.

“Yes, my wife. We got married six months ago.”

“Jesus, Ransom,” Richard groans running a hand over his face. “There was a prenup involved right?”

“She offered to sign one, but I said no. Because unlike your marriage, we can trust each other.” Pushing past his father, he follows your steps through the kitchen and eventually out to the enclosed veranda hearing your sniffles.

“I know. You’re here to tell me I told you so and how being a grouch isn’t a bad thing because it avoids your feelings getting hurt,” you softly speak looking down to your belly as your hands cradle the small protrusion.

“No,” he answers sitting beside you kissing your temple. “I just came to check on you.”

“I’ve calmed down, but I just want to go home and go to bed. Oh and you were right about this place being creaky.”

“I’ve told them these floors need to be replaced,” a deep voice announces startling the both of you. The elderly man slowly makes his way to the chair across from you sighing in content as he sits down. “So I hear a new member of the family will be joining us soon.”

“Yea, around May or June. Grandpa this Y/N, my wife. Y/N this is grandpa Harlan,” Ransom introduces as the two of you shake hands.

“Nice to meet you. I apologize for my children’s behavior, they can be-,”

“Rude and outright inconsiderate,” you interrupt quickly slapping your hand over your mouth realizing you just said that out loud. “I’m sorry, it slipped out.”

“It’s quite alright, and in fact true,” he chuckles. “Don’t worry about them though, if you both need anything at all just let me know.”

“That’s nice of you gramps, but this baby is our responsibility. We don’t need any assistance.”

“That’s very commendable of you two, but I don’t want that child going without anything he or she needs to save your ego. Just know I’ll personally be here to help any way I can.”

You could see why Ransom always wanted to be by his grandfathers side. He might’ve had his stern moments from the stories you heard, but overall he was caring and actually gave people chances rather than immediately dismissing them. It made you wonder what happened to the rest of the family for them to turn out so different.

“Thank you Harlan. We really appreciate everything, but especially you just being there for us,” you smile walking over to hug his shoulders making the old man chuckle being caught off guard by your affection.

“You’re very welcome. And you little one,” he directs toward your stomach, “yes you’re coming into a, well...complicated family, but you have the power to determine what reaction your name brings. Whenever you need to be reminded of that, your parents and I will be here.”

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[theomengirl]

~ GOM as a father ~

[notes] ~ hello! i' m sorry for not being active for the past two weeks because i was battling writer's block, and since college has started it also got in the way of my writing. the requests are piling up and i'll try to work on them as soon as possible ;;; here's a hc of your fav gom boys while you wait. thank you! ♡

Kuroko

the most normal out of the 6.

he’s really appreciative and compliments his child on something they do.

the type to give a sweet morning call and kisses them as soon as they wake up.

later at night, he would read them books and stay longer before their bedtime just to have a simple talk. “what was your favorite part of today?”

also assures them that he's all-ears if they're bothered by something.

no matter how bad his day went, he would never show it in front of them.

you and Kuroko always stick a note filled with encouraging words on their lunchbox to boost their spirit.

sets a healthy lifestyle to help with their growth because he doesn't want them to take after his low stamina.

he loves to assist when they have an art project and he'd display the artwork at home while giving a pat on the head. "look at this awesome work made by you."

Kise

the moment he officially became a dad, he cried for a whole day.

one night, you felt exhausted and Kise wasn't on the bed the moment you woke up. then you found him at the room next door, snoring on the carpet with scattered diapers while your child was sleeping soundly in their crib.

hangs family pictures all over the house and he puts his child's shots throughout the years. he's also active on social medias to boast about his little family.

he's clingy and would give big hugs and kisses at random times, for no reason at all. often argues about who love whom more.

a little sad when they refuse to accept his affection. "dad, stop it. i'm older now." "doesn't matter, i'd still hug and kiss you every day even if you grow grey hair."

spoils them with toys until there's barely any space to keep them, which gaining him a whack from you. "don't buy toys anymore." but he just couldn't look away and came home with another one.

brags about the magazines which he featured on. "doesn't your dad look handsome here?"

he takes his child to his photoshoot site once in a while and the people there would squeal.

his heart breaks if he sees them getting frustrated or sad. "hey, you have your mom and me. you'll always be our biggest pride so let's figure out together, alright? now should we crash at your favorite restaurant?"

gets excited when they do. he's also good at role plays, sometimes a cop, a prince, a monster, etc.

Midorima

a little awkward and confused as how to act natural when his child pretend to shoot him or he plays a prince.

"mom, can you play with me? dad's terrible." then he'd call Kise to ask for some advice.

often doubts himself whether he's a good father or not, but that thought got washed out after his child came home saying he got an A for his essay; 10 things i love about my father. reading it before he leaves for work has become a routine.

bonds over basketball. he'd teach his child how to shoot threes and encourage them until they get better.

he makes sure they keep lucky items with them every day.

totally lost his cool and was panicking when his child got a fever. you tried to calm him down but he instantly rushed to the hospital, only to return home again because the doctor said it wasn't serious; just a usual fever every kid runs to.

the type to set a curfew.

might push them in term of academics, but not too hard. and he would always praise them no matter how bad the score they get. "it's just a number. i just hope you understand the subject so it'll be an advantage for you in the future, you can always do better, because you're our son/daughter."

lowkey jealous if the Shutoku uncles get close to them and glares at Takao because his child seems to favor him.

Aomine

the troublemakers in the house, especially if he has a son. a carbon copy just in a smaller size.

definitely passes on his basketball legacy and they would lose track of time. you had to call them multiple times over dinner only to get responded with "5 more minutes!" and lasted for another hour.

tells them the importance of teamwork no matter how good they are in basketball. he doesn't want his child to repeat his mistake in the past.

"why are you worried over the exam you just finished, when the scores aren't out yet at that? honey, tell the kiddo what place i was during high school," he said as he laid down on the sofa, watching tv while picking on his nose. "your dad was in last place."

he would give a lesson to whoever tries to pick up on or belittle his child.

try to position himself a friend instead of a parent so they'll not be afraid to open up to him.

calls them with pet names he comes up with or he just go with "oi kiddo"

lots of skinship and he often buries them under his large body or traps their head under his shirt when he's being playful.

"don't grow up too fast. i'll be sad, you know?"

Murasakibara

despite his habit of unhealthy eating, he restricts his child to do the same.

"no more candies." "but dad, you had it more than me. can i, please?" "no. you're still growing, your teeth will rot." "so can i eat as much as you once i grow up?" "still no."

the happiest when the school invites parents for a one-day activity together. the other children hover around him because they find his purple hair amusing.

you were amazed by how much he had matured after having a child compared to before the marriage.

rewards them with snacks and sweets if they achieve something.

loves to give them teddy bear hugs.

Akashi

sets good examples that his child would follow; a man with manners.

pays full attention to their education. at the same time he takes things slowly and is aware that his child isn't a machine that should excel at everything.

"please do tell me if you ever feel like the lesson doesn't suit you. talk to me, okay?"

says "i love you" or "you're the greatest thing ever happened in our life" whenever he gets the chance.

tries his best to spend some time with them despite his busy schedules as he doesn't want to lose track of their growth.

takes them along to his business trips, classical concerts or simply playing basketball with the uncles from Teiko in hopes that his child will learn naturally by watching.

he would never demand them to be perfect like the doctrine he received from his father, because his child's happiness is number 1 priority above anything else.

teaches them leadership skills and how to earn other people's respect without hurting them.

overall, he avoids to repeat his past by being more considerate and affectionate to his own child which he treasured so much.

[sneezy-cheeseloaf]

recounting the entire avengers: endgame movie, which i only saw once when it came out, from memory

because i just took the SAT and i want to do anything except think about that so get ready for a fun ride full of holes and my reenactments of scenes and quotes that i remember from however many years it’s been now since endgame came out. buckle the fuckle up

movie opens, clint’s whole ass family fucking dies. cue killing spree fueled by grief and anger. HashTag Relatable

tony is floating through space with nebula and teaching her how to play paper football

holy shit is this how tony dies

“pep” ouc h

oh hey he’s home, dope

The Gang (tm) learns where thanos’s farm is somehow i can’t really remember

“perhaps i judged you too harshly”

“???? thor????” “what? i went for the head”

“five” five what?? days?? weeks??? months???? oh boy i can’t wait to find ou- “years later” HUH???????

steve looks the exact same, so i guess he kept up that workout schedule even through the snap. i mean good for him honestly

and is also running a talk therapy group like sam did

a single smidgen of gay representation but it’s a good start ig

i don’t really remember what everyone else was doing, i just know that tony and pep have morgan now but idk if that gets revealed now or later

the only reason we had a movie is because of a rat. everyone say thank you to Rat for releasing scott lang, please. round of applause

scott’s daughter is all grown up and catch me sobbing over the fact that he wasn’t there to see it

somewhere in here nat is crying and eating a sandwich and honestly girl same

“hey!!! it’s me!!!! scott lang!!! ant man???? also what the hell happened???? lemme IN”

cue scott lang having a single brain cell and bringing up time travel. i think it was him that proposed the idea. maybe not. but imma give him credit

oh yeah bruce and hulk are besties now and bruce is just permanently Like That

and cue everyone being shook at the idea of time travel

time to go see Science Man at his house on the lake

“i wish you had come for anything else.” ouch

gang leaves dejectedly

peter. that’s it. and suddenly tony is all hands on deck

cue science mumbo jumbo in the middle of the night while he eats something out of a bag that i can’t remember

“shit!!” “sHiT!!!” “NO”

“i love you 3000″

Science Man reveals that he has, indeed cracked the code to literal time travel

cue nat, the only person with an umbrella, going to find clint who is busy with murder, as he does

“don’t do that. don’t give me home” stfu budapest man and get in the car.

thor has. enlargened. and is now playing fortnight with korg as a means to cope with what happened plus losing loki, as i think we all would

The Gang is back together and working (surprisingly) coordinately and throwing ideas around and it’s actually very cute. and it makes my heart very happy. and i want to cry every time i think about it because we all know what comes next

scott’s taco gets blown away. bruce gives him another. all is well in the world

and in this exhibit we see the only brain cell in the whole group, which is being used by rhodey at all times

“why don’t we just,,,, (choking motion)” “to a BABY???”

during the time tests someone gets reverted to a baby but i don’t remember who and it’s highkey disturbing

“i consider this an absolute win!!”

cue slo mo walk with the cool white time suits that everyone looks so good in

“see you in a minute” that smile. she looks so happy. sobbing

i think it’s in here that all the color go through steve’s eyes, so let’s just take a minute to acknowledge how pretty he is

“just for the record, that suit did nothing for your ass.” “i don’t remember asking you to look”

“that’s america’s ass.” yes it is scott you’re absolutely right

“i cOuLd dO tHiS aLL dAy” “yeah i knoOoOW”

time for tony to give tony a heart attack and then just stare in what i can only assume is amusement. i’m pretty sure that comes after america’s ass but maybe not

somewhere in here steve is just staring at peggy through blinds and it’s sad when you see it but when you think about it afterwards, it’s so funny for no reason

time to get whacked by a very angry hulk who was not allowed to use the elevator

“NO STAIRS”

tony goes flying. so does the tesseract. loki, in handcuffs, is like “oh bet this is mine now” and. Leaves.

i’m pretty sure it’s bruce who goes and gets schooled by The Ancient One on the multiverse, and i say it’s bruce because i think he’s the only one out of The Gang who could ever actually wrap his head around it

i don’t remember exactly how they get the tesseract but they do

thor and rocket are in asgard and thor has a panic attack, as I think we all would if we had to talk to our dead mother and pretend like we don't know what's going to happen

and remember kids, slapping someone is not the way to handle a panic attack. anyways

a mother always knows

"i'm still worthy!!!!" you always were, thor. you never stopped being worthy

and we have our hammer back

cue sobbing on vormir

“clint. it’s ok. it’s ok.” that smile.

nat’s fucking dead and i’m fucking dead inside let’s keep this party goin

other stones are recovered and i don’t really remember how but hey we got all six

“where’s nat?” cue more sobbing from me and from clint as you can see each and every team member’s heart drop to the fucking floor. especially steve

yeah maybe we’re doing this for half the universe and all the people we lost, but mostly for nat now

tony’s makeshift infinity gauntlet has entered the chat

Green Man is the only one who can physically take the power of the stones, so the fate of literally everything they have ever done up to this point is on him

snap rest in peace bruce’s arm

cue every single person in the theater holding their breath

“guys. it worked.”

cue explosion as their facility gets bombed and i am terrified that it has killed the entire gang

but it obviously has not and i am once again a Class A Idiot

i can't remember if it’s steve or tony who wakes up first but one shakes the other awake and is like “get the fuck up bitch idk what just happened but we got a problem”

everyone is mostly fine. but they’re all alive and that’s what matters

and now we have the setting for the entire rest of the movie basically

oh hey thanos. that’s uh. that’s a big army you got there

i don’t really remember everything that happened with The Past thanos, gamora, and nebula but i remember that gamora once again sees what a twat her adoptive father is and is like “oh hell na”

cue the gang fighting for their lives against Past thanos. literally

oh shit thor’s about to be killed????

OH MY GOD HE HAS THE HAMMER

cue the theater screaming as they should

hell yeah. bonk that giant space grape with the god of thunder’s hammer. you go steve. and look like a badass doing it as you should

shit’s still fucked and they eventually get their asses handed to them one by one

somewhere in here the shield breaks just like we saw in age of ultron. and like damn bro i liked that thing

steve stands up by himself because bitch. you cant kill him unless he says so. he dies on his own terms. he didn’t live for over a fucking century to die like this

our mans is standing up against a whole ass army knowing full well that he can’t win but damn if he aint ready to try

“ok listen strange. you have to open the portal to his left. his LEFT. you hear me???”

“steve. STEVE. on your left.”

cue the most goosebump-inducing scene that i have ever seen and probably will ever see. i would do anything to see that scene for the first time again. that feeling was like nothing i’ve ever experienced

the amazing symphonics are NOT helping my already-about-to-explode-from-excitement heart

now the gang’s ALL here. and we all cry because all of our peeps are back from the dead and we all missed them and highkey grieved for them after infinity war

i can’t remember if steve actually sees bucky yet but i think he does and i wanted to cry on the spot because not only did i miss bucky but man did i just want them to see each other again

cue sick pan of the whole ass marvel roster like smash ultimate, including howard duck somewhere in there

PETER OUR BOY SWINGIN ON IN

“AVENGERS. assemble.” “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

but we all know damn well that not a single person could hear him whisper that shit. like steve bro speak up a little

and the battle for the ages commences

we get to see all our favorite boys are girls fuck shit up and it’s absolutely incredible. wow it really feels like someone’s missing who could that be.

this is now a very elaborate game of keepaway

“catch” “Catch” “CATCH “CATCH”

“hey queens” he remembered. catch me cryin

“hey peter. got somethin for me?” god i love her. flew through a whole ass spaceship. no stoppin her

t'challa remembers clint's name. he did care

oh yeah scott is fucking humongous again, but third time’s the charm ig. maybe he won't pass the fuck out this time

somewhere in here, strange starts holding like. an entire ocean back and i dont really remember where it came from

we get a whole segment of marvel women kicking ass and taking names and i think i just need to take a minute. WE collectively need to take a minute

carol flies straight through a spaceship and everyone is like ???? hello????? where have you been?????????

carol gets literally headbutted by thanos and doesnt move a fucking inch. and that look of murder in her eyes. she could tell me to walk into a pit of lava and i would not question it. the power

“launch the missiles!!!” “but sir, our army-” “DO IT”

damn thanos our expectations for you were low but holy fuck

somewhere in here i think petter quill sees Past gamora and is like gamora???? and she like kicks him in the balls or somethin and is like “this is the ones i picked?????”

the fight continues and honestly a lot of it’s a blur but damn was it not the coolest thing i’ve ever seen. 

cue strange knowing exactly how this was gonna go down, and holding up a single finger

i dont think ive ever seen that look on tony's face before

oh shit thanos has the gauntlet and all the stones. fuck.

wait holdup that gauntlet looks a little funky

WAIT HOLDUP

“i am inevitable”

“and i. am iron man.”

the theater, once again holds its breath

all is lowkey calm and everyone is shook

thanos’s entire army slowly fades away. including one of those big worm things that almost eats (i think it was) rocket but like. dusts right as it hits the ground and is a really cool shot

and thanos sits down on a rock. and finally is gone. and it's so cathartic

oh joyous day!! they’ve won!! they’ve done it!!! wait holdup where’s tony. i remember what happened to bruce where the fuck is tony

wait

wait hold on

wait hold on a minute

“we did it. we won, mr stark. we won. please, mr stark”

“pep.”

“it’s ok. you can rest. you can rest.”

i have officially passed away and am a sobbing mess. you can’t do this to me. he’s gonna come back. there’s no way. tony stark doesn’t die. no.

this is a fucking funeral. i am going to combust into tears

“proof that tony stark has a heart”

i just wanted him to be able to see morgan grow up.

but him and nat are eating shawarma together in the sky now.

“i’m recording this in case something goes wrong, which it won’t.”

“i love you 3000.”

oh we’re still rolling. oh we don’t even get a minute to process

steve is leaving??? wait holdup we cant lose both. no

“are you sure about this?” “i have to”

“i’m with you til the end of the line” so that was a fucking lie

but steve deserves to do what makes him happy. so i can’t be too mad. actually, nah i aint even mad i’m just sad

bucky looks so dejected. so sad. someone please give him a hug. he desperately needs it

oh hey steve. but you’re old now. hey then, grandpa. how did you. get there

buck and sam go talk to him as they should

“you wanna talk about her?” “no, i don’t think i will”

“how does it feel?” “like it belongs to someone else”

sam has officially inhered the shield, and by extension, his very own bucky barnes. it’s a packaged deal

clint’s got his family back. and they can finally finish their picnic or whatever they were doing at the beginning of the movies

and steve finally got that dance. finally. and he looks so happy. so content.

and that’s about all i remember

i have not watched endgame since i saw it in theaters when it came out because i absolutely do not have the emotional stability to do it again. but damn the disney plus shows have been bangin

i hope you enjoyed the ride, thank you for joining me in my. whatever the fuck this is

[chierafied]

What Wouldn’t I Do For You

1.7 k words of unproofread randomness because my enablers enabled me.

For @inuvember Day 24, Family.

Kagome had been Inuyasha's best friend since middle school.

By this point, she was like family – except Sesshoumaru's feelings for her hadn't been exactly familial for several years now.

He'd suppressed and hidden those feelings away, refused to acknowledge them.

But much as he loved Rin, she would never have persuaded Sesshoumaru into such ridiculousness if those unwanted, unrequited, inappropriate feelings for his younger half-brother's best friend weren't there.

Of course, while he did not expect anything from Kagome and would never presume to act on those damn inconvenient feelings, with this stunt he would surely ruin all his meagre chances forever.

Rin was five and had recently come to the conclusion that princesses were the best thing ever and that ballet dancers were basically real-life princesses.

The pink tutu Kagome had got Rin for her last birthday was her very favourite thing to wear, and if Rin could decide (and Sesshoumaru was forced to admit to his shame that she got to decide much too often) she would be wearing it and pretending to be a princess ballerina 24/7.

So, it shouldn’t have come as a huge shock to Sesshoumaru, that when he gently suggested to Rin that they should do something nice for Kagome, like buy her a gift and make a nice card, Rin’s thoughts had turned to ballerinas.

Solemnly, she’d informed Sesshoumaru that while gifts and cards were nice, she had something much better in mind.

They should invite Kagome over, Rin had told him. They would do dress up and have a tea party together. And then they would have a special show for Kagome.

Sesshoumaru had his doubts about this entire plan, of course. But then nothing would as effectively take Kagome’s mind off of the loss of her grandfather than a day spent indulging Rin.

Then again, he hadn’t factored in two things when he had given Rin the green light: that he would, himself, have to participate in this “special show”, and that Rin had his wardrobe all ready and picked out for him.

Kagome accepted the invitation gladly.

When the doorbell rang and Rin rushed to the door to let their guest in, Sesshoumaru noted that Kagome’s blue eyes looked bruised, the smile she offered Rin a little hollow.

“Welcome, Kagome-nee-chan!” Rin gushed, fiercely hugging Kagome’s legs.

“Hello, Rin-chan. Thank you so much for inviting me,” Kagome replied, ruffling the girl’s head.

Sesshoumaru stepped forward as Rin sped away towards her room.

He wanted to hug so bad – and for precisely that same reason did not give her one.

“How have you been?” he asked, his low voice laced with concern.

“Not great,” Kagome said, offering another wan smile. “One day at a time, right?”

Sesshoumaru only had time to nod, and then Rin was back.

Beaming, she proffered her favourite plastic tiara to Kagome.

“Here! You’re the princess today!”

That lured a little laugh out of Kagome. “Am I? How wonderful!”

With great care, she placed the tiara on top of her dark hair.

Rin took her hand, reached for Sesshoumaru’s next.

“Let’s play dress up!”

Over her head, Sesshoumaru’s gaze met Kagome’s and he offered her a wry smile. “Let’s.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

 Losing her grandfather had not come as a huge shock. His health had not been the greatest for a while, and he had been getting on the years. Her whole family had known it was coming, and yet… He had been the first family member she had lost since her father.

So for a while, life had seemed to dull into grey numbness.

When the invitation had arrived, it had shocked a smile out of her.

For one, Kagome had not expected an invitation from Sesshoumaru. Secondly, he had obviously given Rin free hands with it, as the invitation had been pink and decorated with copious amounts of flower stickers and glitter.

The fancy handwriting inviting her to a tea party and a dance recital was all Sesshoumaru’s, though.

Her heart had fluttered with anticipation, for the first time since her world had grown grey.

And so far, Kagome hadn’t been disappointed.

When Rin had offered the pink tutu and feather boa for Sesshoumaru at the very beginning of their dress up game, Kagome hadn’t quite managed to stifle her giggle.

She’d been pleasantly surprised when Sesshoumaru had accepted the items without complaint and put them on. He looked ridiculous, but Kagome’s heart also melted a little at how wonderful he was with Rin, how willing to engage with her and the things she enjoyed.

How many dads played dress up with their daughters?

Besides, Sesshoumaru could make that pink feather boa work.

Grinning from ear to ear, Kagome added her own touch by placing a flower crown on Sesshoumaru’s head, earning a raised eyebrow.

Rin had donned a set of fairy-wings and was now digging through her jewellery box, handing a plethora of bright plastic bead necklaces out to Kagome.

She obediently draped them over her neck.

Kagome found a sparkly scarf which she tied around her neck to serve as a cape. Princesses should have capes.

Then, Rin got out her makeup. All kids stuff, in bright colours. Her brown eyes were dancing with delight and Kagome silently thought that she must be the sweetest kid ever.

Sesshoumaru, however, groaned aloud.

He had good cause, because Rin didn't enthusiastically begin to apply makeup on herself, but focused her efforts on her father.

Kagome slapped a hand over her mouth so as not to laugh outright as Sesshoumaru sat patiently and with only the faintest frown creasing his brow as Rin hummed and smeared lines of magenta red on his cheeks with her chubby fingers.

Mischief sparkled inside Kagome then, and when Rin pulled back, she announced it was her turn, holding her hand out for the makeup palette.

Rin beamed at her as she passed it over.

Sesshoumaru sighed but offered no protest or complaint.

Kagome studied her choices, finally deciding on magenta eyeshadow matching the stripes Rin had drawn.

"Close your eyes," Kagome told Sesshoumaru, scooting closer.

He rolled his eyes first, but did close them, and sat perfectly still while Kagome carefully applied the eyeshadow on him.

"You can open now," she told him once she was done.

Oddly enough, it seemed to suit him, it made his eyes seem a bit lighter, a bit brighter. Like molten pools of gold.

For a moment, they simply stared at one another.

Then, Kagome hastily turned her attention to the makeup palette.

"Now, for a final touch!" she declared, trying for a joke.

She chose another eyeshadow, this one a glittery blue.

On a whim, she traced a crescent moon on Sesshoumaru's forehead, biting her lip in concentration.

“There,” she whispered, leaning back. “Perfect.”

And somehow, it really was.

“Right then,” Sesshoumaru murmured. He slanted a glance at Rin. “I think we’re ready for the tea party.”

 Kagome gushed over the selection of cakes, frosted cupcakes, cookies, ice cream and mochi that Sesshoumaru had ordered while Rin kept pointing out her favourites and insisting that Kagome try everything.

 * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sesshoumaru sat in silence and poured the tea, half-surprised that his hands were steady.

When Kagome had taken over Rin to apply that silly makeup on him, every nerve-ending had suddenly been standing at attention. His heart had raced madly in his chest and for a few critical seconds he had forgotten how to breathe.

She had been right there, in his reach, her fingers warm and soft as they’d danced on his skin.

Somehow, he’d managed to rein in the impulse to lean in, to kiss her.

The tutu and the feather boa had probably helped with that, as it was impossible to forget what a horrid sight he must be.

Sesshoumaru served the tea and even managed a bite of mochi while he listened to Kagome’s and Rin’s chatter, occasionally weighing in on the discussion.

It felt good, to have Kagome here with him and Rin, Sesshoumaru thought, as he watched Kagome brush off a bit of frosting smeared on Rin’s cheek.

It felt right.

If only.

All too soon, however, Rin and Kagome had eaten their fill.

Rin all but glowed with excitement as she turned to Kagome and told her they had prepared a special show for her.

Rin took Kagome’s hand, pulled her along to the living room.

Sesshoumaru trailed after them, resigned to his fate.

All too soon, Kagome was settled on the sofa, looking expectantly at him and Rin.

It was time to dance.

Rin hadn’t laid out any choreography for their grand performance, so Sesshoumaru tried to just imitate his daughter the best he could.

He hopped. He pranced. He twirled.

Perhaps, if Kagome squinted, it might even be called dancing.

Sesshoumaru felt like a prize idiot.

And yet, perhaps, he was an even bigger fool because he did not care.

Not when Kagome was clapping and grinning.

Not while her beautiful laughter rang in the air, sweeter than any sound.

To hear that now, after the grief she still carried within, was worth a hundred pink tutus.

When their dance show wound to its end and Rin dropped into an exaggerated curtsey, Kagome got up to her feet and clapped wildly.

“Bravo! That was amazing!”

They had a little more tea and a few more bites of cake after the dance, and then, finally, came the dreaded hour when Kagome had to leave.

She crouched down and took off the tiara and gave it back to Rin. Then she gave Rin a big hug and thanked her for the invitation.

When Kagome straightened, her eyes met Sesshoumaru’s. She came to him but offered no hugs.

Instead, feather-soft and all too brief, her lips brushed against his cheek.

Sesshoumaru froze.

“Thank you,” Kagome breathed. “This was everything I didn’t know I needed.”

“You’re welcome,” Sesshoumaru replied when he finally found his voice again and remembered how to use it.

“Also,” she added, her blue eyes twinkling, “you look great.”

With one last bright grin, Kagome left.

Sesshoumaru bent to pick up Rin and cradled his daughter in his arms, pressed his nose to the crown of her head.

“Thank you, Rin. Your idea worked really well.”

“We should invite Kagome-nee-chan over again soon,” Rin said, hugging Sesshoumaru.

“That we should,” Sesshoumaru agreed, his heart full.

[itskateak]

Mint Ice Cream & Bubblegum Kisses - Chapter Three

(Bucky Barnes x Single Dad!Reader)

Series Summary: Y/N L/N works as an intel specialist at the Avenger’s Compound. He scans chatter on the international - and intergalactic - level for any information that might be helpful to the Avengers and other agents. But he’s also a single father to a beautiful eight-year-old girl: Angelica L/N. It’s tough raising a little girl on his own and working a full-time job, but he’s managing. A promotion has him launched up in rank at the Compound, leading him to work directly with the Avengers team. The only problem is it’s a 24/7 job. Life around the compound gets a little strange when his daughter is added to the mix of enhanced humans and ex-assassins.

Chapter Summary: Angelica seems to be settling in nicely and Y/N is still getting used to having his kid around in his workplace. Especially when she's known to be a little mischievous.

Word Count: 2.6

Warnings: Fluff, pranks, like four swear words, discussion of PTSD but it's very brief. Like very brief.

A/N: this is in light of me recently being able to play Black Widow for work. as I said in the last chapter, things will be moving a lot quicker

Masterlist

Taglist is open! PM me, send an ask, or @ me on a chapter to let me know you’d like to be tagged! Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, but I will send you a message to let you know :)

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Angelica snuck down the hall toward the common room, trying to keep her steps light or as close to silent as she could get them. She resisted the urge to look up at the ceiling, knowing Peter was just above her. This was a new system they were trying out where Angelica went first as a decoy and Peter would follow for the proper scare.

They had a shared love of harmless pranks and therefore had started a small prank war on the other inhabitants of the compound. At first, it had only been against each other, but they figured out that they could do way more if they teamed up. 

Y/N had warned them not to do anything too bad, knowing how some of the people in the compound were affected by sudden surprises. He'd sat Angelica down and explained what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was and how what she might perceive as a harmless trick might trigger something or cause a breakdown. 

She had understood and in her very solemn way promised to run her more "fear factor" ideas by him first just to be safe. When he did shut down her ideas, she never argued and dropped the plan. Confuse not abuse was their motto.

Y/N, meanwhile,  was working in his office, watching text scroll across his screen. There was a lot less than when he worked general intel, but that didn't mean he could focus any less. Any small detail could make or break whether the information was crucial or not. Everything that came across his screen was very important, but some things had to be taken note of.

He had mastered reading and writing at the same time, his shorthand notes making no sense to anyone but him. He'd learned that the week before when he passed the intel off to Tony and he just stared blankly at the paper. Now, he translated his notes so others could understand. Sometimes, he couldn't tell what he was meaning to say.

A transmission from The Benatar came through and he pulled his seat closer. It was just a simple message about their whereabouts and where they were headed. Gamora had signed it off, saying that it was nice to meet him and that whenever they stopped by next, they had to properly meet. He wrote down their message before typing a message in response.

Received. Glad to know you all are safe and having fun up there. Stop by anytime you want. My daughter would be overjoyed to meet all of you. 

 - Y/N 

Y/N leaned back in his chair, taking up a pen to make notes as information on underground movements possibly related to Hydra agents flooded in. More bases had been popping up recently, despite Steve's attempts to drag them all down in the past. Instead of being against the Winter Soldier, though, he was with them. Which gave them the upper hand since he knew their inner workings.

A knock on his office door made him glance up. Bruce stood in the doorframe, his knuckles still against the wood of the door. He gave a shy smile. "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all. Come on in, Bruce." Y/N set his pen down and rolled his chair to the end of his desk. "What can I do you for?"

"I just came by to see how you were settling in. We haven't talked much since you were offered the promotion." Bruce sat tentatively on the couch, looking very unsure of himself. 

"Things have been going well. It's nice of you to stop by, though." Y/N swiveled back and forth casually. "I like having my own office."

"It's great, huh? I have a whole lab to myself most of the time. Tony invades my space once in a blue moon but he has his own lab somewhere else." Bruce relaxed a little, laughing gently. 

"Angelica breaks the peace at least twice a day, but she's my kid so it's not as annoying. Except when I really have to focus. Then I kick her out for a bit." He said with a lopsided grin.

"She wanders into my lab every so often to say hello or ask for help with her science homework. She's lovely." Bruce smiled. "Very bright."

"Yeah, she is...I can't keep up with her at this point. She's going to surpass my skills soon." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Good thing she's got you guys to check her science. I barely passed it in high school."

"Really? I wouldn't have expected that from you." Bruce said.

"I was okay up through my sophomore year but once I hit physics, I lost all understanding. Algebra was never my strong suit, either." Y/N rolled his eyes. Bruce was going to respond when shouting down the hall caught their attention. 

Peter sprinted by the office, yelling over his shoulder: "Every man for himself!"

Angelica was a few seconds behind him and she slid into her father's office. "Hide me! Quick!" She slipped around his desk and curled up underneath it.

"Kiddo, what are you doing?" Y/N asked, giving her an amused look.

"Shhhh!" She shushed him and pressed herself into the corner, covering her mouth to hide her giggles. 

"Peter Benjamin Parker! Angelica Ellaine L/N! Get your butts back here!" Natasha seemed to be the source of the yelling as she stormed down the hall. She paused at the door to the office, leaning casually in the doorframe. "Hey, boys. You seen a tall spider or a little monster recently?"

Angelica shook her head vigorously in her father's peripheral vision. He pretended not to see her, making sure not to look anywhere close to her location. "Snitches don't get cookies." She whispered as quietly as possible.

"What'd she do now?" Y/N asked. He had to uphold the Code. Snitches don't get cookies, and he'd never betray his daughter.

"She tried to jumpscare me and then Peter swung down from the ceiling and scared the hell out of me." Nat folded her arms over her chest. "So, I'm trying to grab both of them to dump them in the pool."

Y/N laughed and shook his head. "I haven't seen her, except for a few seconds ago. She ran by on Pete's heels."

"Bruce, have you seen them?" Nat turned her gaze to the scientist, who suddenly grew visibly nervous. 

"Uh," He glanced at Y/N. "They ran by just a minute ago."

"Uh-huh...Well, I guess I'll just keep looking." Nat pushed off the doorway and started to leave before poking her head back in. "You're still a terrible liar, Bruce." She winked and disappeared.

"Is it safe?" Angelica whispered.

"Yep. Come on out." Y/N rolled back a little bit to give her space to move out. "Good luck out there, kiddo. Watch your back."

"Thank you, Mr. Banner! You deserve a cookie." Angelica smiled at Bruce, the full personification of the smiley-face emoticon. She snuck to the doorway and glanced down the hall before turning the same way Peter had run.

"How long do you think it'll be?" Y/N asked, returning his chair to its proper place.

"Until what?" 

His question was answered by a scream from down the hall that devolved into squealing laughter. There was some indiscernible shouting from three different people.

"Until Nat caught her at the corner." Y/N watched as Nat went running by, laughing, with Angelica thrown over her shoulder.

"Peter! Help! She got me!" Angelica yelled through giggles, hand extended out behind Nat's back.

"Angelica! No!" Peter followed, reaching for her. "Nat, give her back!"

Y/N shook his head fondly as the chaos grew quieter the farther they got. "We're settling in well, as you can see. She's making friends and creating chaos. I'd be worried if she wasn't."

"Did she always play pranks on you?" Bruce asked, smiling uncontrollably.

"On more than one occasion, I found shaving cream in my shoes." Y/N wrinkled his nose up at the memories. He had hated that feeling of shaving cream squeezing between his toes in his socks.

"Gross. She and Peter were bound to get along well, then." Bruce glanced at the clock and got to his feet. "I should let you get back to work. If Angelica has a science or math question, you can totally send her to me."

"Thanks, Bruce. You're a genius." Y/N rolled back over to his work station, shaking his mouse to wake his computer up. 

"I wouldn't say that," Bruce said as he walked backward out of the room, pausing in the doorway.

"Don't sell yourself short, Bruce! You're totally a genius." Y/N pointed with his pen, smiling as he spoke.

Bruce ducked his head sheepishly and nodded before he left the office.

Y/N returned to his screen, pulling his notes back into reach, and scanned the text again. Another couple of hours before lunch.

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"Your kid." Tony suddenly popped in, holding his phone out to show Y/N what was on it. "Your kid keeps changing my phone background."

Y/N looked up and glanced at the screen before bursting into laughter. It was a photo of a sloth dressed as an astronaut. In the past year, she'd managed to change her father's phone background and laptop wallpaper to that stupid sloth photo without his knowledge at least sixteen times. 

"Why?" Tony asked, defeated. "Why is she doing this?"

"She read about someone online who did the same thing to their parents and she took inspiration. I'm happy to see she's moved on to other targets." Y/N shook his head in amusement. "Shouldn't your phone be super secure or something?"

"It is! I don't understand how she keeps doing it. I've changed my password eight times and even had Friday monitor any attempts to hack in." Tony sank down onto the couch, tossing his phone beside him. 

"Well, she definitely can't hack things. She's smart, but not that smart. Usually, a password change will keep her from trying again." Y/N swiveled to the side, head cocked.

"This is the second time today," Tony grumbled, brows furrowed. "I don't get it."

"Well, you're the genius here." Y/N snorted, glancing at his screen again. "If my kid's not the one hacking your phone, who is?"

"Oh, my god," Tony said, standing quickly. He rushed to leave but paused in the door. "You're the genius, Y/N."

Y/N arched a brow in mild intrigue. "Uh-huh. You're welcome?"

Tony flashed a smile before turning. "Peter Benjamin Parker, how many times have I told you not to hack into my stuff!" He shouted as he walked down the hall.

"Kid, you're sowing chaos." Y/N glanced at his daughter curled up under his desk. 

"Huh?" Angelica looked up from her book, confused. "What's going on?"

"Peter hacked Tony's phone and changed his phone background to that astronaut sloth." He responded, returning to his work.

"Oh, Pete didn't do that." She said, turning her page. "Mr. Banner did after seeing us do it. Somethin' about getting back at him for leaving crumbs all over his lab."

Distant yelling floated down the hall to the office. High-pitched 'Mr. Stark, it wasn't me!'s were the only things that could be properly made out. Angelica made eye-contact with her father.

"Should I?" She asked.

"Nah." Y/N said and they both started to snicker. "He's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

Angelica giggled and returned her attention to her book. 

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Y/N pulled himself out of the pool, shaking his head to fling water off his face. He hadn't gotten to use the facilities yet since they moved in. The pool was really nice - way better than any of the public pools he'd been to. He used to swim once a week but work got in the way. Now that it was Sunday, he could enjoy the free access for as long as he wanted.

He grabbed a towel, dried his hair and face, and walked to the locker room. His shirt was folded up on a bench with his shoes sitting beside it. He dried the rest of his body off and pulled his shirt on. He slipped his feet into his shoes and froze.

"Dammit, Angelica!" Y/N shouted as shaving cream seeped between his toes and spilled over the top of his feet. He grimaced and kicked his shoes off, quickly wiping the shaving cream off. He picked up his shoes and went storming off to find his daughter.

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"Hey, Y/N. Sorry to intrude after hours." Sam knocked on the doorframe to his bedroom. 

"Hey, Sam. No worries." Y/N looked up from his book and set it aside. "What's up?"

"Bucky and Steve are coming back really early tomorrow morning. Like, three in the morning early." He wrinkled his nose up. "They might have sensitive intel from their raid so Tony's asked you to be in office by the time they get back."

"I won't yell at you since you're just the messenger, but really?!" Y/N groaned, running a hand over his face. If he wasn't a morning person before, he surely wouldn't be a happy camper at such an early hour. "Guess my plans to stay up reading have been shot."

"Sorry, man. It's what the boss wants. But really, blame Barnes because he wanted to get back as soon as possible." Sam crossed his arms and shrugged. "Always his fault if somethin' goes wrong. Man brings bad luck wherever he goes."

"I think that's a little harsh and biased. I haven't even met the guy, yet." Y/N leaned over to set his book on the nightstand. He snagged his phone and started to set an alarm or two for the morning. 

"I'm sure you've heard all the rumors. Some of them are true - about him being grouchy and an anti-social person - but a good majority of the rumors is just scuttlebutt. Er, gossip. He's got a good heart, but man he can be annoying as hell," Sam smiled fondly, though he tried not to look it. 

"Sounds about right," Y/N chuckled, sliding his charging phone underneath his pillow. 

"He's really slow to trust and open up, so if he's a little closed off and rough around the edges, it's not you. It's all him, so don't worry." Sam explained. "Might want to ease him into meeting the little rascal, though. He's skittish on his bad days and after missions."

"I took the liberty of reading over all of the team's files so I get why. Thanks for letting me know. I should get some sleep so I'm not as grumpy in the morning when I greet them." Y/N yawned on accident, covering his mouth with his hand. 

"No problem. I'll let you get some rest." Sam reached forward and closed the door as he left.

Y/N turned out the light and sank down in bed, drawing the covers up. He had at least four extra blankets just for the weight. He liked having the excess weight since it made him feel secure and grounded. 

"Hey, Friday?"

"Yes, Mr. L/N?"

"If I don't wake up from my alarms, please wake me." 

"Of course." 

Y/N fell asleep shortly afterward, not fully aware of how tired he had been. Moving and getting used to the new environment had really taken it out of him and his body was begging to catch up. A shame he'd only get five hours before being dragged from bed. That was going to be one of the very few downsides of this new job.

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Taglist- @supernaturalwintersoldier​ @shadowolf993​ @myybebe

[ts-waywardchildren-au]

Wings

so I finally got tumblr to stop being a bitch and let me post the full thing!

AO3 link

taglist: @theimprobabledreamersworld

Word count: 4330

TW: mentions of religion/church, mentions of alcohol, shouting, implied homophobia, implied past transphobia.

    Anyone who knew Mr. and Mrs. Harte would quickly realize that, if there was any couple in the world who should not raise children, it was them. 

Mr. Harte was, in the nicest way possible, both a workaholic and an alcoholic, despite his preaching that the Bible should be followed to the letter, which meant every time he opened a bottle he sinned. But, of course, the bible applied only to other men. 

Mrs. Harte was what most would call a busy-body who cared much more about her appearance to her neighbors than she did children. She was the kind of woman who everyone only pretended to like but then gossiped about her behind her back. Despite her insistence that she was the most important woman in the world, she made none of her own choices, only followed the latest beauty trends, and did as her husband said. 

This is why, when the Hartes decided to have children, everyone was slightly concerned, to say the least.

    The Hartes saw children as vessels for the parent’s ambitions, as dolls to dress up or as little creatures to be trained to impress friends and family. Ten years later, their only child Patton was none of these things. He was not a prim and proper girl like Mrs. Harte had wanted, nor was he the kind of boy who played every sport known to man. 

    Patton was the kind of child who would prefer to play in the dirt rather than keep the tiny suits his mother had picked out for Sunday church perfectly spotless, the kind of child who would rather chase dragonflies across the soccer field than kick the ball. The kind of child, who, among other things, wanted nothing but to play with his friends and to ride on his father’s shoulders, and to bake cookies with his mother. 

    But Patton was also the kind of child who never got to do these things. This is perhaps the reason why, when he saw a door in the trunk of a tree, did not immediately run back to the park where the church kids played. He had organized a game of hide and seek with the other children, and while the other children could be quite dull, none could pass up a game of hide and seek, not even the older kids. 

    He wiggled out from his hiding place from under the bushes and tiptoed towards the tree trunk-door that should not be there. He turned his head to the side, looking at the door from all angles. Up and down, side to side, inspecting every inch before raising a hand to knock on the gray wood. One, two, three taps, and the door creaked open. Where one would expect to see the inside of a tree, there was instead a hallway. 

    Figuring that inside a tree would be an even better hiding spot than under a bush, Patton stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Unseen light sources allowed Patton to see as he walked away from the door. Had he looked back, he might have noticed that where the door should have been was a blank wall with not even a crack to suggest an opening. But Patton did not look back- he just kept walking, his footsteps echoing on the floor of wood paneling until he came to a staircase going upwards. 

    There, on the first step, someone had planted a sign. 

    “Be sure,” Patton read aloud. “Be sure… of what? I’m sure this is a very good hiding place!”

    He had a habit of talking to himself, something his parents very much did not approve of, and it was through his conversation with himself that Patton deduced that he must be quite sure that he wouldn’t be found. Had he known how correct he was, perhaps he might not have gone up the stairs. But Patton was ten years old and had a sense of adventure, so he began to climb. 

    The stairs seemed to go on forever, spiraling upwards without end. But as soon as he thought about giving up and going back down, Patton saw the end of the stairs. 

    “Hello?” Patton called out from the top stair. It only now occurred to him that this could be someone’s house he just walked into!

    There was no reply, and Patton stepped off the stairs onto the landing. It didn’t seem like anyone’s house, because Patton couldn’t think of any houses that had no roof or walls! The floor of the not-house seemed to be… tree bark? Patton looked up and saw the sky, bright blue and cloudless. He didn’t know it at the time, but the sweetness in the air was the lack of pollution and car exhaust, and his ears had stopped ringing because there wasn’t the constant noise of cars. It was so quiet… so pretty! 

    “Young man, what are you doing up here?”

    Patton let out a small squeak of surprise and turned to face the adult who had walked up behind him. 

    “Oh- um- I- I’m sorry, ma’am- I found a door and I was playing hide and seek, and I walked up the stairs, and now I’m talking to you, and- I- um, I’m sorry!”

    “Oh!” The adult’s face softened from the glare she had before Patton stuttered out an apology. “It’s quite alright. What’s your name?”

    “I’m Patton! Um… is this your house?”

    “You could say that. So, Patton, are you sure?”

    Patton didn’t understand what he was supposed to be sure about, so he did what all children would do: say yes and hope there weren’t consequences. 

    At his affirmation that he was sure (even though he was not), the adult clapped her hands and smiled. As she moved towards Patton, he saw what made this adult so unlike the rest of the adults that he knew. 

    “Why do you have wings?”

“I’ve earned them. And someday, Patton, you will too.”

That answer only slightly satisfied Patton, but it was good enough for now- even a ten-year-old realized that he wouldn’t be getting any further clarification anytime soon. 

“How do I get them?”

“Well, Patton,” the adult turned her back and beckoned Patton to follow her. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, I am!” 

That was the first time Patton had felt sure, though he didn't know what it was for- he only knew that he was sure he wanted answers, sure that he wanted wings! The other children would want to be friends with him then, right? 

“Very good. Now stand here, beside me.”

Patton did as he was told, and for the first time got a good look at the new, strange adult. She was tall, taller than his mother, with long silky black hair that Patton thought looked quite like one of the ties his father wore to work- straight and shiny. 

Patton had been told, like all children, about stranger danger, but this adult… Patton didn't know why, but he knew that he would be safe with her. 

“Take my hand, Patton, and don’t let go, alright?”

Patton nodded and gripped tightly, something his mother would have scolded him for. But neither his mother nor father was here to tell him off, and Patton knew that as long as he didn't cause too much trouble, nothing bad would happen. 

    Before Patton could ask what was going to happen, the ground was far beneath him and the adult. He let out a shriek but remembered to hold on to her hand and not let go. He kicked his feet, searching for solid ground.

    The wind rushed past his ears, tangling his hair, making his eyes water. 

    Every time the adult flapped her gigantic wings the noise of hundreds of feathers made his ears ring with the thunderous movements. 

    But… his curiosity overtook his fear. Would he get wings like that?

    Wings like the birds he saw in the park? Or maybe like the dragonflies in his garden? Maybe like the colorful butterflies that he always attempted to coax onto his finger? Or perhaps the black and red ladybugs he liked to let crawl all over his fingers?

    As suddenly as the ground had left from beneath him, Patton stood upright once again, this time on the greenest grass he had ever seen.

    “This is my home, Patton. You may stay here for as long as you wish.” The adult gestured to a ladder hanging from a tree branch, connections to something obscured by the dark green leaves that were as big as Patton himself. 

    “Oh! Thanks! Um, what should I call you?”

    “You may call me whatever you wish, but my name is Noelani.”

    “Okay! Thank you, Miss N!”

    ***

Over the years, Miss N became Miss Noelani, which simply became Noelani, who became Patton’s friend. 

And over the years, Patton sprouted his wings- they had come through small and itchy at first, and he was unused to the new weight on his back. His feathers had grown in, small and fluffy at first but becoming larger and sleeker and his wings grew. He had been in this world, the one he began to call home, for almost two years when he could finally fly on his own. Noelani had taught him, by coaxing him to jump off tree branches and trust he would catch himself. He had been afraid, at first, even terrified. But Now?

Now he flew everywhere, stretching his arms in the wind, laughing as he let the air blow through his feathers, grinning as he plummeted towards the ground and caught himself at the last second. 

There were contests held every full moon, and Patton had competed in them for as long as he had been able to fly. He had started wobbly, unsure, but once he grew into his wings?

He was unbeatable. He was the best flier there was, darting in between trees and taking sharper turns than any others dared to. 

The cheers of the audience fueled him to go faster, faster, faster! He stretched a handout, reaching for the finish line. 

“Come on, Chick!” Noelani’s shouts of encouragement could be heard over everyone else’s cheering. 

A burst of speed and Patton flew ahead of the other competitors by a full wing length, stopping only when he landed on the branch behind the finish line. The wingbeats of other races still hadn’t stopped, though one by one they joined Patton on the branch. When the last competitor landed, everyone began to give their congratulations. 

“Good race! That was close!” Patton smiled at the second-place finisher, who in turn shook his hand. 

“Maybe I’ll beat you next time, Pat!”

“You can certainly try!”

“Chick! You were amazing!”

Patton turned to see Noelani coming through the small crowd, a grin on her face. Her hair was shorter than when Patton had first met her, and the feathers on her jet black wings had dulled, but her smile was still the same. 

“You know, when I was your age-” Noelani was cut off by Patton’s laugh. She glared and continued. “When I was your age, I could never have done that!”

She took Patton into a hug and handed him a towel when she pulled away. “You’re so sweaty! Gross!”

“It’s not that bad!” Patton wiped his forehead and grimaced, “Okay, maybe it is that bad.”

“Come on, Chick! Clean up and I’ll get you some food.” 

Patton nodded and turned back to the other racers, giving them a final grin before leaving.

“Hey! Patton! Wait!”

He turned around to see the second-place finisher running towards him. 

“Here, I wanted to give you this.” He handed Patton a small pastry. “I made it myself. Don’t eat it yet, save it for when you start to get sore.”

“Oh! Thanks! I’m sure I’ll enjoy it!”

Patton slipped the pastry into his pocket and waved as he began to fly after Noelani, allowing himself to glide in the wind instead of frantically flapping his wings to propel himself even faster. 

It was only after a meal of freshly picked fruit and homemade bread that Patton remembered the pastry he had been given by the second-place finisher- what was his name? Something that began with a D… oh well, Patton would have to thank him later!

“Someone gave this to me,” Patton said as he took the pastry out of his pocket, several crumbs falling onto the table. “Would you like to split it?”

Noelani shook her head. “It’s yours.”

Patton nodded and took a bite, and immediately felt the tightness in his shoulders and wings disappear. He was always sore after a race, and usually was for a few days after that, but not anymore.  

    Before Patton could take another bite, Noelani gasped. 

    “Patton! Patton, you-”

    He looked at Noelani, and before she could make another sound, Patton let out a scream. 

    “I- 'm- I can’t see my hands- what’s happening to me!?”

    Noelani grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. “Patton, listen to me. Listen to me! Whatever happens, you can find your way back. You can find your way back, and I will be waiting here for you.”

    “But- I don’t want to leave! Noelani, what’s happening!? Noelani-!”

    One minute, Patton was holding tight to his friend and in her home, and the next he was surrounded by a pile of feathers on the asphalt of an old weathered playground, illuminated by glaring streetlights in the absence of the sun. 

    “No! No! Let me back… let me back!” Patton pounded his first against a tree, begging, pleading for a door to appear until his hands became bloody.

Crying, begging, pleading for a way home. 

A gust of wind began to blow through the park, and Patton began to frantically grab his feathers from dispersing in the gust. He wouldn’t let what was left of his home be scattered away from him. sand

With an armful of gray feathers and eyes full of salty tears, Patton began to walk to where he remembered his parents’ house to be, his bare feet leading him across the cold concrete sidewalks of the too-bright neighborhoods. 

He wondered briefly what someone would make of him, an unfamiliar teenager walking barefoot through the street, carrying nothing but a bundle of gigantic feathers and wearing a sky blue tunic with an open back. 

Already he missed his home, missed the familiar weight of his wings, missed the way Noelani’s feathers would tickle his cheeks when they hugged. 

He paused at the sidewalk leading up to the house where he had lived for the first ten years of life yet had never truly called home. His home would always be at Noelani’s nest, where he would spend hours leaping between branches to find the sweetest fruits, where he would chase after the crows and sparrows, could bake the perfect meals on top of a fireplace, where he could practice racing around her tree- 

He took a gasp of breath, and before doubts could creep into his mind, knocked at the door and winced as another cut on his fist opened up.

After a minute of waiting, he began to worry. What if his parents had moved away? Then where would he stay while he waited for his door to come back? Or what if they no longer remembered him? Though he had never called this place home, he still loved his mother and father! What would he do if he never got to say goodbye, to tell them where he was?

The door opened with a familiar creak.

“Patton?”

“Hi, dad!” Patton put on a smile, a performance for his family. 

“What- Patton!” His mother appeared behind his father and put her hand over her mouth in disbelief. “Where have you been? And- how- how do you look so much older-?”

“What do you mean? Mom, I’m sixteen and Noelani always said I had a baby face!” He chuckled, although laughter was the last thing on his mind.

“Patton, you’re twelve! You’ve been missing for two years!”

“Patton, come inside. Tell us everything you can. Should we call the police? Honey, I think we should call the police!” His father added. 

“The police? Why would you do that?” Patton tilted his head to the side in confusion, a habit he had picked up from the birds that he had befriended. 

“BECAUSE YOU HAVE BEEN MISSING FOR TWO YEARS! BECAUSE YOU LOOK SIXTEEN WHEN YOU SHOULD BE TWELVE!” 

His mother shouted and looked surprised at herself for being so loud. His father put a hand on his shoulder and led him to the couch- a different couch than the one Patton remembered. This one was new, shiny leather, while the one he remembered had been soft red fabric. He felt his hair get staticky, and the feathers in his arm- which his mother seemed to just now notice, and wrinkled her nose at the sight of them- began to stick up. 

“Patton, tell us what happened. We care about you, son,” his father said gently. Patton didn’t know why, but the thought of being called ‘son’ brought out an emotion he didn’t like. So he did what he always did: ignored the feeling and began to talk. 

He talked about how he had been hiding and found the door that didn’t belong, how he walked through the hallway and climbed up the staircase, where Noelani had found him and taken him to her nest. He told them what Noelani had said, that the world was full of magic, that birds were the carriers and messengers of that magic, how the birds gave all humans wings so they could fly between the gigantic trees that held houses, or sometimes even cities. 

He told his parents about racing, and about the war he had always known he would have to fight to protect his home. He told them about the racing he did to distract himself from his visions of battles, the training he did so that when the war came, he would be able to protect his friends. 

And he told them about the last race he ever won, before fading away while pleading to stay with Noelani, to stay in his home, to stay in the world of birds and flight and magic and everything else he loved. The world where someone cared about him for who he was. 

When he finished his story, there was a beat of silence before his father spoke up. 

“Patton, I think you should get to sleep. We kept your bed in your room, and you can borrow some of my pajamas for the night. We can talk about this more in the morning.” 

And with that, Patton was sent up the familiar stairs to an unfamiliar room. Everything left in there was coated in a layer of dust- only a bookshelf with some stuffed animals and old books next to a bed he didn't remember being that small. Patton knew there should have been more things- toys strewn across the floor, a baby-blue rug, a lego set of a cat. His parents must have cleaned up while he was gone. 

He realized he still had his feathers in his arms. He dropped them to the floor and dragged the neatly made blanket off the bed, and began to build himself a sleeping nest like the one he had at home. 

When he was satisfied with his work, he lay down and covered himself in the largest feathers he had carried from the park- his dark gray flight feathers. 

It took him too long to fall asleep, but when he awoke and went downstairs, he found his father waiting for him. 

“Son,” he began. “I’ve done some research, and I think the best place for you to be is a boarding school. Thomas Sanders’ Home For Wayward Children. I heard he deals with… cases… such as yours.”

***

A week after the conversation that Patton had no say in, he found himself carrying a bag and a suitcase across a cobblestone pathway to an imposing, mansion-like structure where a man waited for him at the door. 

“You must be Patton, right?” The man asked, holding out his hand in greeting. 

“Yes, sir,” Patton replied, attempting to hide the fear in his voice. He hadn’t been with his parents in years, but he still remembered that any school he would be sent to was almost guaranteed to be one of religious teachings. 

The man waved him off. “No need for formalities, you can call me Thomas! Or Mr. Sanders, whichever you prefer. Now, Patton, may I ask what your world was like?”

“My- my world? Um, I go to church every Sunday and-“

“No, no! Not this world! The one you call home. Mine was one of the trees of every color, with the softest grass, and fairies hiding in every flower, dryads in every tree. And not the kind of fairies your parents likely despise! Oh- sorry, that was probably a little odd. Never mind that, tell me about your world!”

Thomas led Patton through the sturdy oak doors into the house- if it could be called that. From the outside, it looked like a single house had been built onto until it became a sprawling maze of living rooms, and the inside was even more confusing.

The entry hall alone had painted portraits that looked like they belonged in museums, not hung on wallpaper that looked like it was from the seventies. A crystal chandelier cast oddly shaped shadows across the multitude of doors that connected to the hall. 

“My world… my world was one where birds carried magic and gave it to any who they thought was worthy. I made friends there. Some were like me, humans who were given wings. Others were birds. Sparrows, crows, finches, ravens, robins… I loved them all. And- and I want to go back.”

“I understand, Patton. Almost everyone here wants to go back. It’s my job to try to help you and these other kids not be so homesick while we all wait for our doors.”

“Th- thank you. I haven’t been away from home for more than a week and I already miss it.”

“You will never miss home any less, but I hope the weight of missing it gets easier to carry. Now come on, let’s get you settled. I can-“

Thomas was cut off by a crash coming from what sounded to be far above their heads. He cringed and continued. “I need to go fix that. Ah, Nico can show you your room. Pryce, if you’re doing what I think you’re doing, stop it! Nico!”

Thomas took off in a sprint through one of the doors, leaving Patton alone in the entry hall until another man came running in. 

“Hi, you must be Patton! I’m Nico. Nico Flores-Sanders. I help my husband around the school. I’ll show you to your room, and make sure Janus doesn't kill you,” he laughed and took Patton’s suitcase. 

“Uh, that was a joke, right?” Patton asked tentatively. 

“Mostly, yes. We did have to break up a fight between them and another student, though. To be fair, the other student was being, ah, quite a jerk.”

Patton nodded. Don’t be a jerk, and don’t start a fight. Those seemed like easy enough rules to follow. 

“Here, up this staircase and the first door on the right. If you get lost, you can always ask your roommate for directions. Somehow they were faster at learning their way around than I was!”

“You went here, too?”

“Yup! Though back in my day, it was called Eleanor West’s Home. She didn’t actually run this building, she ran one on the upper east coast. Thomas and I met when we were both in school, and when he took over, I helped him run it.”

“Oh! You two must be really good friends!”

Nico began to laugh, and Patton couldn’t understand what he had said that was so funny. 

“Ooo-Kay. Here’s your room. Janus! Your roommate is here!” 

Nico knocked, and Patton’s new roommate opened the door. 

“Uh, hi. I’m Patton.”

“Janus. They and them pronouns. If you call me he or she, I will break your knee.”

“Janus, what have we said about cryptic and threatening introductions? Please make Patton feel welcome,” Nico scolded.

Janus rolled their eyes and gestured with a gloved hand for Patton to come in. They waved at Nico, who gave a smile and closed the door. In the dim light, Patton could see the odd appearance of the person he’d be sharing a room with. 

Janus wore a black bowler hat, a bit of wavy brown hair sticking out of it and hanging in their eyes, which Patton could tell, even in the dark, were two different colors. The most startling thing about their appearance, though, was the scar that ran from their left eye down to their chin.

“That’s your bed, on that side. I hope you don’t mind the dark because the curtains stay closed at all times. I have a space heater, so if it gets too hot in here, I will move it but under no circumstances will I turn it off. And I meant what I said, if you use any pronouns for me besides they and them, I will not hesitate.”

Patton did not ask “hesitate to do what?” because he was pretty sure he knew the answer. However, he did ask, “why are your pronouns they/them?”

“I am non-binary. Neither a man nor woman. It falls under the transgender umbrella.”

Patton just nodded and thought for a minute. “Am I non-binary, too?”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “You can be if you feel like it fits you.”

He began to unpack his suitcase and bag, putting his feathers on the bed and clothes in the dresser. He had refused to let anyone touch his feathers, his reminder that his home had really existed, that he wasn’t just making things up like his parents insisted that he was. When he was done making a proper nest on the floor with the pillows, blankets, and what was left of his wings, he turned to Janus.

“I’m Patton, and I think I’m non-binary, too. I went to a world where birds were magic and humans could get wings. And, um, thank you for not breaking my knees.”

That night, as Patton curled into his makeshift nest, he felt like she belonged somewhere for the first time since he had faded from Noelani’s hug.