#Last thing I expected was getting an ask for th soft stuff when my posts have been inching closer and closer to the dead dove do not eat tag

[jujutsutrash]

To the anon who asked to get the soft aftercare I mentioned on my last nanami fic, I hear you bud, you gonna get it, I can do that

[harudnae]

Episode 4/5! Today I give you fluff 🥰

The short shanty was inspired by this post!

Also posted on AO3 on 2024.02.10

Rating: Gen

Pairing: Roger x Rayleigh x Gaban

Summary: From throuple to family.

Content warnings: fluff, weddings, fluff, literal found family, did I mention fluff?

Word count: ~1k

✨ Family

Roger barges into Rayleigh's cabin, where Gaban helps the First Mate chart their next course. The moment his partners turn their attention to him he excitedly asks, "Say, Gaban, would you marry me and Rayleigh ?"

Rayleigh feels heat rising up to his face.

Gaban shakes his head with a small laugh, then nods the affirmative. "Yeah, I'll do it."

Rayleigh could swear there was a twinge of sadness quickly flashing across Gaban's face, but it's gone already, replaced by a fond smile.

Roger smiles like a kid on his birthday. "Great! Now..." He turns to Rayleigh. "Would you marry us?"

Rayleigh slightly cocks his head to the side.

"I love you both, so I want you both."

Rayleigh's gaze flickers to Gaban, whose cheeks are now a shade darker. He grins and turns back to Roger. "I'll do it if you do it for us, too."

Roger beams. "Wouldn't want it any other way."

Gaban comes closer and throws his arms around both of them, pulling them for a tight hug. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me", he says, voice tight with emotion.

Rayleigh wraps his arms around them too, hands curling around their shoulders while his smile widens. "Damn right you are."

While the rest of the crew gets everything ready to celebrate their union, Roger starts singing, "My Ma' said that I'd never marry a girl from town... Pa' said I should find a job and never let him down..."

Rayleigh smiles when he recognizes the shanty. He exhales a small chuckle and playfully smiles at Gaban while he sings along Roger, "So I packed all my stuff, went with my boys, under the breeze..."

Smiling wide, Gaban joins them for the last line, "And on the lawless high seas, we marry as we please!"

After they took turns wedding themselves to one another, all three of them call for the biggest party the Oro Jackson has seen yet.

(Rayleigh recalls their first encounter and his musings about names and fate, and while he glances at the copper and gold rings shining under the sun he finds that predestined or not, they're very lucky to have found each other.)

They find a baby in a chest in the aftermath of the shitshow in God Valley.

All three of them gape at the red-haired baby smiling and raising his tiny hands towards the sun.

"Fuck", is the first word that leaves Rayleigh.

"Shit", Gaban adds.

Roger sighs, then he carefully picks him up.

The baby looks so small and fragile in his big hands.

(Rayleigh knows, from this moment on, that this baby is here to stay. He knows it, knows there's no way to change Roger's mind, no way to turn back. He knows, and somehow, he isn't half as worried as he should be.)

Gaban pats Rayleigh's shoulder, a soft smile on his face.

Rayleigh sighs, and his lips curls upwards when he meets Gaban's gaze.

Roger, as expected, says, "We'll raise him as our own."

Not so long after, they meet another child about the same age, and they decide to raise him too.

(Rayleigh knows that this is a bad idea. They're idiots, idiots to raise literal babies aboard a pirate ship, idiots to think they can give the kids what's best for them. They're idiots but they love their sons more than anything in the world, they're idiots, sure, but they'll be damned if they don't give them the best they can offer.)

The kids grow healthy and bring joy and laughter to the Roger Pirates.

The crew assumes care-taking whenever the leading triad isn't available, and help raise the boys as proper pirate apprentices and smart kids.

Rayleigh is delighted to see how important Shanks and Buggy are to each other.

Brothers, best friends, nakama... Each of these terms apply to their relationship, but no word seems to perfectly describe how much they love each other.

Roger is such a sap when it comes to them. He'd give them the whole world, and starts with entrusting his straw hat to Shanks.

Rayleigh commissions a brand new hat with their jolly roger the next time they're staying a few weeks ashore.

Upon learning about the impending gift, Gaban provides a couple of feathers to add to their Captain's hat. Both are white but their tips are colored, one red, one blue.

Rayleigh softly smiles at the sight, and an extra idea sprouts in his mind. He goes back in town a while later to bring the hatter a spare blanket from Roger's cabin. It's the one they gather under whenever they're around winter islands, densely filled with large fluffy feathers for cold nights.

The blanket is old enough that Roger and Rayleigh used it during their first years together, and since it's the largest one they own it remained useful after Gaban joined, and now the kids come bundle with them underneath it when the weather is colder.

"Do you think you could use some of these?"

The hatter says yes, and eventually threads a long fluffy trail of blanket feathers to the hat. The red and blue feathers are sewn into a fold, and the hatter adds a golden pin as final touch.

Rayleigh and Gaban pay a large extra to the hatter and bring the new hat back to Roger.

Roger intensely studies it while a wide smile grows on his face. He runs his hands over the jolly roger, over the red and blue feathers, and he trails his fingers down the fluffy trail of blanket feathers. His eyes shine when he glances at Rayleigh and Gaban. "I have all my family with me", he softly says before putting the hat on, smiling wide. He pulls Rayleigh and Gaban into a tight hug, and immediately calls for a party.

(Rayleigh wonders when he'll stop being amazed of the life he has now, surrounded by all the people he loves. He hopes it never ends.)

Copper, Silver and Gold: 1 - 2 - 3 - [4] - 5 - 6 - 7

[where-pain-is-so-pretty]

December Project 12

- Living Inside My Own Confusion

Pairing: Joel x Reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

TW: Depression! Suicidal Thoughts! Crying! Self Harm!

Word Count:

Request: - my own thoughts -

Requester: none

Note:

I'm finally back continuing the December Project (in February?!…) Pls, ignore the numbers, I messed up the order on purpose because I just couldn't keep up with my original schedule. But I promise all requests will be posted sooner or later! Title are lyrics from Lost by Linkin Park!

It was close to 2 am when you opened the door of the AirBnB you shared with the Blind Channel guys, finding all of them, except one, already asleep. They were here for promo and studio work and you went along to visit some friends and see one of your all-time favourite bands live. A quick getaway from day-to-day life.

And reconnecting with your old friends here in the UK had been refreshing and fun, but now that you were back 'home' and the adrenaline rush of the concert was about to subside, a certain emptiness bloomed in your chest.

Now it was past 3 in the morning, and you wished after-concert blues was the only thing bothering you. Seeing your favourite band had brought you the serotonin you had desperately needed, but it only lasted for about an hour and now things were even worse. There was this all too familiar tightness in your lungs and your racing heart felt like a broken bird trapped inside your ribcage.

Your mind was circling around the conversations you had with your friends, earlier this evening. Leaving you bitter, once more you realized how behind on life you were.

They all had a partner, kids, a great job, finished their degrees, or were about to build a house or travel the world. When you were glad you made it out of bed in the morning or afternoon. A functioning life was something you could only dream of. You had dropped out of university, to take care of your mental health, but finding a therapist had turned out to be harder than expected. These rejections had led you to feel not sick enough to receive help. Other people had it worse, and although you clearly weren't alright, you were still functioning somehow, weren't you? So, how bad could it be? You lived for the little things, chased every bit of serotonin you could get. May it be a concert, a new tattoo or a one-night stand, as long as it made you forget about the chaos in your head for an hour or two.

And you weren't jealous of your friends, in fact, you were more than happy they had such carefree lives. You just wondered if it ever was your turn. Your friends must be so tired of you for never getting better, for always being the one who was behind and not okay.

Maybe life just wasn't for you. Maybe you should have ended it already, your friends would be better off without you anyway.

"Aren't you cold?", a familiar voice echoed through the darkness behind you. It was Joel. Of course, it was. No one else would be awake at this ungodly hour. Shaking your head, you didn't turn around, fearing he might sense what was going on inside your head if you faced him. You wanted to feel cold, needed to feel the sharp pain on your bare arms. It kept you at ease, helped you resist the urge of hurting yourself.

"Are you alright? You have been sitting there for an hour." He asked, voice soft. You turned your head slightly, still not looking at him but at the other side of the room. For a second you focused on both Aleksi and then Olli. Both of them already peacefully asleep in their beds.

"I'm good.", you lied as you locked eyes with him for a moment to underline your false statement. Trying to avoid his question you added: "What about you? Noticed you staring at your phone ever since I came back." You knew it was typical Joel behaviour but you also knew that usually, something was bothering him when he acted like that. And maybe this question would distract him enough from your condition.

"I guess. Couldn't sleep and started checking stats and doing some TikTok stuff, the usual." he shrugged. His brows were narrowed as he examined your face. "What's bothering you?" his tone more serious this time. You didn't want to answer, you wanted to be left alone with your thoughts, drown in them until you were exhausted enough to find some sleep. You considered telling him another lie, but he had already seen through the first one. And knowing Joel, he wouldn't let go of it until you told him the truth. His grey-blue eyes stared right into yours, demanding an answer. There was no escape.

"Too much…" You finally mumbled looking down at your hands. You regretted saying these two words the moment they had left your mouth. Knowing they would only cause more questions.

And it was not like you did not want to talk. You wanted to scream it all out to get rid of the troubled feeling inside your chest. But you feared you might bother your friends if you did, drag them down or overshadow their problems with your own. These struggles were yours to fix, nobody else's and especially not Joels'. He dealt with enough shit already and on top of that, he and the boys had work tomorrow. You could wait.

To your surprise, he stayed silent and left. For a second you were almost relieved, but then he came back, a black piece of clothing in his hands. He stopped right in front of you and wordlessly handed you the hoodie. You were about to protest, still feeling comfortable surrounded by the chill night air, but his gaze was firm on you. Arguing with him wouldn't lead anywhere.

You took it from his hands and started unfolding it. When you were about to put it on, Joel lightly nodded. He was such a mother hen sometimes, you thought, as you pulled the black sweater over your head. A shiver went through your body as the soft, warm fabric embraced your cold skin. It was big enough for you to disappear in it, the sleeves covering your hands almost completely.

You watched him sit down on the window sill beside you, fumbling with something in his large hands. At second glance you recognized it as a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He took one of them between his thin lips, the orange flame of the lighter illuminated his features for a few seconds. He had bags under his eyes, stubbles on his chin and his hair tied up in a messy bun. He was worn out from travelling, stressing about work and dealing with his insomnia, and you had nothing else to do but to bother him as well.

Taking the first drag of the cigarette he silently offered it to you. You accepted, turning the cigarette between your fingers as you watched it burn down before taking a drag as well. You breathed out the smoke and handed it back to Joel. You sat in silence while sharing the rest of the cigarette, the only background noises the soft snoring of the other guys and the fade sounds of the city outside.

"Wanna talk?" Joel asked as he flicked the stub out the window.

These words were enough to cause you a mild panic attack. Your heart started hammering against your ribcage. You swallowed heavily, your mouth suddenly dry not only from the taste of the cigarette. Taking a deep breath you fought the knot in your throat and the tightness in your chest. "I don't know…it's a damn lot…" You didn't know where to start or how to tell him. Nothing made sense, everything seemed too much, too confusing to sort out and explain.

"I'm here, I'll listen!" His answer was short but it almost made you cry. You really did not deserve him, or any of your friends. He was mindlessly fidgeting with his lighter, his eyes still fixated on you. The worried expression in them filled you with so much shame and regret. These problems probably only seemed this big inside your head, because you had created them to have something to cry about, to sabotage yourself, as an excuse to not feel okay. You just couldn't waste his time like this, it seemed unfair, he shouldn't have to deal with you and your stupid thoughts.

"Thanks, Joel, but you should try and get some sleep. You have to get up early tomorr-"

"Y/N! Would you please stop searching for excuses!" For a second he almost sounded angry although he spoke in a low voice to not wake the others. Sheepishly you lowered your head, mumbling a quiet "Sorry..,".

One of his hands found yours, lightly squeezing it, showing he wasn't mad at you.

"You are not doing well, I can see that! I won't force you to talk. But please know I'm here if you need to and I'm also here if you don't. I'm not going anywhere!" A nod was all you managed to do in response as you fought back tears.

His words made you feel everything at once and a part of you wanted to run and hide, while the other was about to throw yourself into Joels' arms and cry your heart out. You did neither and kept staring at your intertwined fingers. Focusing on the shape of his, the lines on his skin and the chipped nail polish, as his heartfelt words slowly made it through the loud chaos inside your head.

"Y/N, please look at me!" Joels' voice was only a whisper. Hesitantly you lifted your head, your whole body tensing up as you tried to put a smile on to cover the tears that were about to fall any second now. Even now you were afraid of letting him inside. Fearing he might judge you. When you met his eyes you felt your guts twist in guilt. Wishing you could do or say something to make the worry disappear from his face.

Joels' free hand reached out for your face, softly lingering on your cheek. "I'm here! I won't judge, I promise!" You could feel your cheeks heat up under his touch and new tears dwelled in the corner of your eyes. You couldn't stop them. A strangled sob escaped your throat as you broke eye contact to hide your tears from him. Covering your face with your hands, you barely noticed Joel pulling his arms around you. You were too weak to push him off, so, you surrendered, letting him hold you as you allowed your feelings to take over completely.

And for a moment, you were drowning, consumed by the darkness of your thoughts. All the pain you kept inside washed over you at once and you lost yourself in it.

You were violently sobbing into Joel's chest now, your body tense and shaking while he held you. Aware that your make-up rubbed off on his black shirt and that your eyeliner ran down your face mixing with your tears. You hated yourself for being so pathetic, for wasting his time like this.

"I'm…not worth all this…" you sobbed out, trying to wriggle out of his embrace, but you weren't strong enough to fight him off; and in reality, you didn't want to.

"You are so damn worth it Y/N!" He pressed him against you further and you gave in again. Your nails dug into his shirt as you held onto him, your face buried in his chest, shedding your tears. His embrace around you almost hurt, yet, he gave you what you needed most. Comfort. He kept your head over water, kept you from drowning. And instead of your chaotic mind, you focused on the warmth of his body, his large hands on your back, the rising and falling of his chest. And between crying and listening to his heartbeat you finally found the strength to talk.

"I…I..feel like I'm falling apart and I don't know how much longer I can go on like this…I'm so overwhelmed by life and I fear it won't ever change…I'm afraid of never being okay again." A heavy sob made you pause your rambling and you tried to swallow it taking a few deep breaths.

"A few months back I tried to…I tried to end it…" Your voice was shaky and you felt another wave of tears coming, as you told Joel what you had kept to yourself for way too long. You let them fall, knowing that in his arms you were safe from the demons inside your head. "Shh…it's okay! I'm here…" Joel had stayed silent for the entire time, not asking questions, his hands soothingly running up and down your back. You didn't deserve him, you weren't in the exact shape of being confronted about your mental issues or possible solutions. That was for another time when your mind was clearer and your chest felt lighter.

"We should go to bed." You suggested when the tears had finally dried up. He lightly nodded against you, slowly loosening the grip around you. You risk glancing up at him, fearing to see pity and judgment in his eyes. Instead, he greets you with a soft smile, his gaze heavy on you, and there was still a hint of worry and maybe even pity in it, but he wasn't judging you. The tear stains on his cheeks and his glassy eyes were what broke your heart. And you were about to apologise for trauma-dumping on him but Joel stopped you right away. "Don't you dare to apologise!" he sounded serious but there was also something playful in his voice. You didn't respond and only you took the sleeves of the hoodie between your fingers and brought it to his face, carefully wiping the remaining tears away.

"Thank you, Joel!"

"Not for that! I'm always here if you need me!" His lips touched your forehead for a second and then he pulled you into a hug again. And he held you for the rest of the night. insisting on sharing the bed with you, not wanting you to sleep alone.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Give her the life I never had; Harry Potter x child reader

*Author’s note*

So this came from my Wattpad requests and this is my first Harry potter (character not fandom) fic that I have written so I hope I didn’t mess this up for any hardcore Potterheads out there.  So this takes place during the Battle at Hogwarts so expect some death and violence involved, other than that not really much anything really. I know it’s been awhile since my last update but I hope to pick up the pace and post up some more stuff and then HOPEFULLY open up requests here since I know you all have been waiting patiently for that.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@ixchel-9275​

@psychosupernatural​

@queen-paladin​

_____________________________________________________________

It was finally over. All of it.  Voldemort was now dead, the Death eaters defeated, and now the Elder wand was destroyed and lost to the sea.  I looked towards the ruins of Hogwarts knowing that the stone and walls can be rebuilt, some of our friends would be able to heal their physical wounds, however some mental wounds won’t.

The Weasleys they’ll always have to live with Fred’s death for the rest of their life and grieve over the fact he’ll never come back, especially George.  I had seen just how close their brotherly bond was, even when they had nothing they had each other, now George was gonna have to make do on his own, if he could.

And Hermione, while she doesn’t want us to know I had a feeling at what she had done to protect her muggle parents, thankfully with her and Ron seeming to repair their growing relationship, I know the Weasley’s will welcomingly be the family she needs now more than ever.

As I walked along the school grounds that’s when I came across (Y/n) getting looked over by one of the healers.  When she looked towards me, she gently smiled and I smiled softly back at her thinking back on how I found her in all this chaos.

The battle was pure hell.  Spells and curses being blasted, bodies dropping like flies, and rubble from the school walls crumbling down as repercussions from the spells firing out.

I had pushed back a Death Eater with an Stupefy spell which sent him flying all the way across the Great Hall.  Another death eater soon came right at me but I quickly disposed of his wand first before giving him the paralyzing spell.

That’s when I heard it.  The sound of a young girl crying.  I quickly ran around the corridor and saw just down the stairs where I once found the Mirror of Erised, a young girl around maybe her 1-2nd year hovering over an older girl who looked almost like her but had longer hair.  The young girl with shorter hair was weeping hysterically as she kept crying.

“Liz? Lizzie. Get up sis. Oh please get up.” From the pale skin and the soulless eyes that Lizzie had, I knew immediately she had been hit with the Killing curse. Cautiously I walked over to her and said.

“Are you alright?” the young girl looked up at me and she sniffled.

“Yes. But my sister she—she won’t wake up yet her eyes are open.” Knowing how I hadn’t learned of the 3 unforgiving curses until my 4th year at Hogwarts, she must’ve not known what exactly happened to her sister.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (l/n).”

“Well (Y/n), I…….I’m afraid to tell you this but……..your sister’s—she’s dead.”

“What? No but….if she were dead her eyes would be shut, the spell that hit her just made her collapse. Like the paralysis spell.”

“But it wasn’t a blue light that hit her, was it?” she looked back down at her sister and touched her cheek.  “I’m afraid it was the most dangerous of all unforgiving curses. The Killing Curse.” She sniffled and hugged her sister’s corpse and choked out.

“But—she was…..she’s all I have left!” I looked around and two more Death eaters spotted us.

“Get behind me.” I urged (Y/n).  Without question she got behind me and I held out my wand and as they charged toward us I called out, “Stupefy!” which sent one Death eater flying backwards but then I felt a shock to my hand which sent my wand flying towards the second Death eater’s hand.  She sneered at me but then a voice exclaimed.

“Petrificus Totalus!” the female Death eater soon went stiff and fell to the ground.  I turned and saw that it was (Y/n) who had casted the curse.  I ran over and took my wand back from the witch and told her.

“Come on. We can’t stay here.” She took one last look at her sister.  I knew she was hesitant to leave her but if she remained here, she’d be a sitting duck.  “Your sister would want you safe (Y/n).” she turned to me and nodded before taking my hand and we raced out of the hallway.

Together the two of us worked together to fend off the oncoming Death Eaters, but one Death eater used an Inferno spell which burnt (Y/n)’s arm pretty bad.  I shielded her from the next oncoming Inferno attack but the heat of the flames was almost too strong for me to hold back.  That’s when a wave of water came and extinguished the flames and the Death Eater was flown backwards till his back hit a column and he collapsed dead.

We turned and there stood Professor McGonagall.

“Professor.”

“Harry, Ms. (L/n) are you both alright?”

“I am, (Y/n) however got burnt on her arm.” She walked up to us and she examined (Y/n)’s arm. She let out a painful hiss and the Professor said.

“I’ll take care of her from here Potter.”

“Thank you Professor.” Just as I was about to leave, I felt a hand grab the sleeve of my shirt and I saw that it was (Y/n).

“Thank you, Harry Potter.” I smiled down at her and nodded to her.  She released my sleeve and I ran off to finally end this once and for all.

I walked over to her just as the healer cleared her off and moved onto the next student that needed medical treatment.  I sat down beside her and asked her.

“How are you doing (Y/n)?”

“Shaky but—alive.” She softly scoffed.  “But at what cost? My sister’s dead. She was the only family I had left. Now the ministry will probably put me in the Magic for Orphans facility, and with me almost being a teenager, no one will want me.”

I was probably the only one who knew what she must be going through.  Even though we were orphaned in different circumstances, we still lost our loved ones to Voldemort.  Now I must be crazy because I had no clear idea of what to do next but what I did know was that I couldn’t leave (Y/n) alone anymore.

“What if—” I started off by saying.  “What if you…had someone to look after you?”

“But, but Harry I—I have no other living relatives. It’s always just been me and my sister since our parents died three years ago at the Quidditch world cup.”

“I know, but what if there was someone who wanted to help you out. Give you a home so that you wouldn’t have to suffer any potential abuse or neglect.”

“And just who would that person be?” I sighed softly before telling her.

“You’re looking at him.” Her eyes softly widened before she let out a soft gasp.

“But-but why? I mean no offense Harry but…..why would you want to help me out?”

“Let’s just say, from one orphan to another I know how lonely it can be. I had no clue about the magic world till I was just your age, and though I may not know how the Ministry of Magic deals with orphaned wizards, I do know a thing or two about living in terrible conditions. I lived practically my whole childhood in a tiny hall closet in my aunt and uncle’s place. And I wouldn’t want you to potentially go through that type of abuse in a stranger’s home.”

(Y/n) was silent for a moment, taking in what I just said.  Weighing out her options before thinking about what answer she would give me.

“If not I’ll understand, I’ll check in whenever I can. But just know you won’t go through the rest of your life alone.” She looked up at me.  Her eyes that were once filled with tears, but now filled with courage and strength as she said.

“If it won’t be too much trouble with you, I’ll go with you.” I softly smiled at her and told her taking notice of her robes.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor.”

After that, the Weasley family, Hermione, myself and (Y/n) returned to the Weasley’s old home the Burrow and decided to rebuild it, a symbol as a fresh start to all our lives after this whole war.

We also had a memorial service for both Fred and (Y/n)’s older sister, each of us speaking for both Fred and (Y/n)’s sister before finally burying them and summoning a beautiful garden around them of their favorite flowers and plants.

As the sun was starting to set I saw (Y/n) still standing over her sister’s grave.  I walked out to her and said.

“Mrs. Weasley’s prepared supper for all of us. She says you best come in before it’s all gone.” (Y/n) remained silent.  I softly sighed and without another word I just stood there beside her.  She may not want to talk, but she should at least know that someone was there when she was ready.

“I—never thought I’d have to face this world without her. Even through our fights, especially after mom and dad died, she was always there for me. She especially liked to tease me about my crush on Joey Matarazzo, saying we’d get married one day and have kids of our own. Now she won’t ever see me grow up, or achieve any dreams I’ll have for the future.”

“Let me tell you something my Godfather once told me. He told me that the ones that love us never really leave us. And we can always find them, in here.” I pointed to her heart.

She looked up at me and finally for the first time I saw a true, genuine smile.  She came closer to me and wrapped an arm around my waist and rested her head against my ribs.  I wrapped an arm around her and we stood there for a few more minutes before walking back inside the Burrow to join the Weasley’s for dinner.

*FF 19 years later.*

It was like any other year, but this time it was my second son’s first time doing this.  I could already see from the look on his face that he looked anxious about his first year going as we came up to platform 9¾.

“Together.” I assured him as we took hold of his cart and we both ran straight through the brick wall and found ourselves right by the Hogwarts Express.  As we walked closer to the train, we soon found Ron and Hermione with their kids, I spotted Draco and his wife and son bidding their goodbyes.  He and I looked at each other, neither of us speaking a word but he gave me a point nod, and I nodded back to him.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to write my own brothers up for detention already.” A female voice soon spoke up and coming right towards us was (Y/n), all grown up and in her Professor robes.

Since the battle she continued on her Hogwarts education and excelled in both Magical creature knowledge and potions making.  By the time she was in her 4th year at Hogwarts, Ginny and I had agreed to legally adopt her as our own child and she was beyond thrilled at the news.  After graduating, she worked with me at the Ministry of Magic to focus on potion brewery before enrolling to be the next Potions Professor and this would be her second year teaching that class.

I’m told she’s kind but firm when it comes to students goofing off in that class, but she is always there to make sure no student messes up a potion and causes injuries either to themselves or others.

“Not in the slight.” I assured her.

“Good. I would hate to have to write them up to Headmaster McGonagall.” She told me.  She looked down at her brothers and asked them, “So boys, you ready?”

“Oh yeah!” exclaimed James while Albus was more reserved and didn’t really say anything. Instead he walked away and sat down with his arms hugging his legs close to him.  (Y/n) and I looked at each other and I told her to get James onto the train as well as herself while I talked to James.  She nodded and guided James as well as his things over to the train while I walked over to Albus and knelt down beside him.

“Dad,” he spoke. “What if I am put in Slytherin?”

“Albus Severus Potter. You were named after two Headmasters of Hogwarts. And one of them was a Slytherin. And he was the bravest man I had ever known. But if it means to you, you can choose Gryffindor. The sorting hat does take that into consideration.”

“Really?” I nodded. “But how would you feel? If I was sorted into Slytherin?”

“Then Slytherin will have gained the best wizard they could ask for.” He smiled and embraced me and I hugged him back.  “Now come on, off you go.” We then walked towards the train and Albus got himself situated inside with his brother and Ron and Hermione’s kids, and riding alongside them to keep an eye on them to Hogwarts was (Y/n).

As I stood by my friends and we watched the train leave the station, waving goodbye to our kids I couldn’t help but feel like we had done it.  The war ended almost 2 decades ago and now our children can learn magic in a better world, a world without Death Eaters, a world without darkness and death, a world without a Dark Lord.

A peaceful time in our world.

[andilovetowrite]

The Spidey Suit

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Everyone has wanted to try on the iconic suit of Queens’ superhero, but when you have an opportunity to actually do it, you land yourself in a bit of a sticky situation…

Warnings: Suggestiveness, but nothing too bad. A couple of bad words and a ton of flustered Peter.

Word Count: 1.2k

Here is my Masterlist, as well as the request it is based on! Thanks for reading this, and I hope you enjoy it :)

“Hey Ms Parker”, you exclaimed, walking into Peter’s apartment. May smiled, quickly hugging you as she ruffled your hair.

“It’s May, Y/N. Ms Parker makes me feel old!” she says jokingly as you laugh.

“Well, can’t have that”, you say, laughing along with her. “How are you?”

May shrugs, her eyes getting a far-off look. “Oh, it’s fine...with Peter having Spider duties in the night and work starting late, I have a ton of time on my hand.”

You smile coyly, remembering what Peter told you before he came to pick you up on a date last week. “Oh, so you have enough time for a relationship? With a certain jolly man? Or was it Happy?”

You giggle, watching May’s face turn red, as she waved you off. “Oh shush! It’s nothing. Who told you?”

“Peter did. You should’ve seen his face!”

“Oh no!” May says, groaning. “Happy and I are not in any way dating!”

Sure”, you say, extending the word as you take off your jacket. “Also, speaking of Peter, where is he? Still out?”

May nodded, gesturing to his room. “Yeah, he is, but you can stay as long as you want...he should be back in about 30 minutes anyway.”

You smile, nodding. “Thanks, May. Any plans for the evening?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

“A dat- Uh, nothing. Just-uh hanging out with friends. Yeah, yep, that's what I’m going to be doing”, she says, and you understand where Peter gets his nervous stuttering from. You stifle a laugh as you nod at her, heading into Peter’s room.

Opening the door, you jumped into his bed, marvelling at how the room was so much more cleaner tonight. After getting the superhero gig with the Avengers, Peter had a ton of new gizmos and tech. Not only was his room always littered with new tech toys from the tower, but it was just usually messy. With college and his Spider-Man duties, there wasn’t a ton of time to pick up dirty clothes from the floor. At least, that’s what he says.

So it was a pleasant surprise when everything was spick and span, well...except for his closet. It was an utter mess, with the door overflowing with jumbled up pieces of clothing. Scrunching your eyebrows, you walked over, eyes widening when a mountain of shirts and jumpers fell out.

“What the hell?”, you muttered, noticing how they were just thrown in. Peter must’ve been in a hurry to find something, but what would it be in his closet-? “Aha”, you said, seeing something hanging off his bed.

The old Spiderman suit. Well...wasn’t really a suit, more like a hoodie made by Peter months ago. You picked up the red hoodie, smiling at the hastily drawn spider logo in the middle. You knew Peter was Spiderman soon after he had started fighting crime...being his best friend and all. But you only saw him when he had the “Mr Stark suit”, so you had never seen Peter in action with his old one.

But looking at it now, you felt a magnetic pull to it. Walking over, you hesitantly picked it up, fingers smoothening over the soft fabric, the tears and cuts, the stains still leftover from fights. Biting your lip, you look around, staring out the window as you brought up the suit to your body, wanting to see how it would look on you.

Having a superhero boyfriend was great since he saved people and all...but it was even better when you saw him in action wearing a skin-tight suit. You weren’t half as strong as Peter, but you desperately wanted to try it on, just to get a feel of what it would be like. Plus, it looked sooooo comfortable, despite the wear and tear of it.

Quickly looking around, and closing the door, you shed your shirt and shorts, pulling on the red and blue garment. “Holy shit”, you whispered, peering at yourself in the mirror. “This is awesome” Turning sideways, you pulled your wrist up, trying to figure out what was pressing into your skin, but as your fingers brushed against a small button, thick white liquid shot out of the compartment.

You gasped as you were pulled through air, landing smack in the middle of Peter’s bed. “Oh no”, you whispered, trying to pull yourself free but failing in doing so. The web. You didn’t realize it was still in there, but now you were in a sticky position. Literally.

May could easily walk through the door and see you in Peter’s old suit, which would thoroughly embarrass you. Or even worse, Peter comes in and sees you fidgeting with his belongings. Although he was the sweetest, most caring person on the planet, he had a strict rule about not letting his personal life interfere with his superhero life. And you might have just bent that rule a little… The best thing was that you just waited it out. This was probably the old web, which dissolves in an hour or so, which would be an awful lot of time, but it was better than anything else.

Sadly, the universe didn’t want to agree with you tonight, because, in less than 20 minutes, you heard the familiar THWAP of the web as Peter came swinging in through the window.

“Karen, I am so exhausted toda- What?”, Peter said, looking shocked at you sprawled across his bed, a familiar blue and red suit loosely covering you.

“Hey Peter”, you said weakly, “I’m really sorry about the sui-”

“You look so hot”, he whispered out loud, blushing bright red at his statement. “I-I mean-um...uh hi Y/N”

All your worries melted away as you saw Peter’s face, your heart squeezing as you stared at his stuttering, pink face. Ridiculously handsome face. “H-hey Pete. I just came in a while back and saw th-this and I just wanted to try it….”, you said, trying to gauge his reaction before continuing. “So I might have worn it, and mistakenly shoot out a web that was still in there, which is a terrible idea by the way!”

Peter laughed as his eyes roamed your body, walking over to get some dissolvent, but stopping halfway. “So, in conclusion, I might have gotten a teensy tiny bit stuck”, you said, smirking lightly. “Care to unravel me?”

Peter scoffed, walking over to you. “First you touch my stuff, and then get yourself in a sticky situation on my bed...and now you expect me to just let you out love?” He came closer to you, whispering hotly in your ear, “I think not Ms Spider, in fact, I’m going to let you be there for the next two hours as it dissolves”

You looked up at him, challenging him. “Two hours huh? Didn’t think it would take that long...I would think Spiderman’s web would come off much quicker”

Peter simply chuckled, “Oh sweetheart, Spiderman’s web won’t come off for a long time...might as well get ready for a long night”

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

Wow, got kinda spicy at the end...but yeah. This took so long to write, purely because of my lack of motivation, but I hope you enjoyed this! Hopefully, I’ll have another ff out in the next couple of days :) Please send me a message or comment on this post if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ladykxxx08 @allegras-sunflower @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @a–1–1–3 @hayhays

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

been a while since i posted a fic update! anyone wanna read some cowboy au nonsense? sure you do! well here it is

The blinding, unforgiving midday heat is enough to raise blisters on the skin. Looking out over a crowd of folks booing him, calling for his demise, probably should have had some kind of emotional impact. On the occasion of one’s death, after all, one does expect tears. Flowers, laid out in lace, dark veils and coal black clothes, a few muffled sobs from those further back in the funerary procession, unable to contain themselves. Instead he’s met with the dusty faces of former neighbors and strangers alike, all eagerly waiting to hear the exact tone and pitch that his neck will make when it snaps.

Bored, he turns his attention from the crowd, and watches a lizard scurry across the wooden planks of the gallows, as a man to his right fits a rough bit of rope around his neck. It scratches, but he doesn’t react, not feeling frightened or even especially interested. A similar rough twine is binding his hands together behind his back, keeping him from having any viable way to save himself. The crowd is calling for blood now. Hangings generally are not gorey affairs, but he did once see a drop too sudden and a rope so long that the fella wasn’t just hung, he was decapitated. Beetlejuice glances back down at the crowd, tries to imagine what direction his head would roll if that happened here, and smirks, because it seems to him the last thing he’d see would be the view from inside the skirts of some of the women standing front and center. Not the worst last sight a man could have. “You think you could hurry this along?” he asks the man fitting the noose around his neck. “Sun’s beatin’ down somethin’ fierce an’ I ain’t got my hat.” His personal possessions are back at the sheriff’s office- hat, bandana, silver plated, pearl handled pistol, and his custom belt buckle, just about the nicest, and maybe only, thing he ever paid for. God damn corrupt lawman’s probably gonna pawn his stuff as soon as he’s swinging. Maybe before. Maybe his last worldly possessions are already gone. S’not like he’ll need them, where he’s goin.

A face he recognizes is led up from the crowd, an ancient wizened body tanned for years by the all too eager sunlight and scorching sands. It’s the local preacher, who he remembers from his formative years. The old man used to give him bread and plain, unseasoned chicken in return for listening to him talk about god, and if he hadn’t been nearly starved to death half the time, he might have spat in the old man’s face. Shouldn't charity be done for the sake of charity, not proselytizing? He’d said so once, and that was the last meal the old miser had given him. Jackass.

“Beetlejuice,” the preacher begins. His name is said with disdain and a curled upper lip. It’s one of the reasons he chose it, honestly. “You still have time to repent, young man. I remember you, as a child, bright eyed, curious about the kingdom of heaven.” Well now, that’s the very definition of taking artist liberty. “Now, here, you have one more chance to repent, to accept god’s mercy, and avoid the lake of fire.” The crowd is watching, waiting to see if he will confess his remorse. Beetlejuice hums, rocks on the balls of his feet, and then sighs. “.. C’mere,” He mumbles, jerking his head to indicate the old man should step closer. The holy man does. “I got a lot to confess to, preacher man, an’ not much time.” His voice is soft. The ailing man can’t hear him, steps closer, if only a little. “So much to confess to, in fact, I oughta just… Skip th’ whole thing an’ go straight to hell!” And Beetlejuice reels back, and then slams his forehead into the old man’s face. The sickeningly satisfying crunch of cartilage tells him he’s broken the preacher’s nose, as the elderly man falls back, crying out in pain, blood gushing from his new wound. The crowd roars, furious, and he grins, and laughs. “Ain’t no good extendin’ your pious pity to me!” he calls, gleeful, as he’s pelted with whatever the people watching can get their hands on, and the old man is helped, taken away, led off of the platform. “Enough, enough, we will have order!” a lawman cries, coming up the gallow steps, to stand in front of the outlaw. It’s enough to get the crowd to settle, or at least stop throwing things. There’s still a bad energy in the air, which Beetlejuice can taste on the tip of his tongue. His smile is rictus, he’s delighted to be the cause of it all.

“This man has been tried and found guilty,” the lawman continues. The trial had been very short, and his incarceration shorter. He understands he’s being made an example of to other outlaws, bandits, and trouble makers. They intentionally didn’t give him any time to plan anything, or for any coconspirators to come and assist him. Joke’s on them. They could have taken all the time in the world. Ain’t nobody alive who cares for this outlaw. Not a soul who would dare to come and stage a rescue. He’s utterly alone. “He’s allowed his last words. Clearly,” the lawman turns, eyes Beetlejuice, who smiles flirtatiously. The other man’s expression shifts from annoyance to disgust. “He’s disavowed the advice of Pastor Neighbors.” “M’not so sure you’re usin’ that word right, friend,” Beetlejuice snorts, but he’s ignored. “Any last words?” the hangman to his right asks, his hand itching to grip the lever that will drop the floor and finally, finally, release the outlaw from the confines of mortal life.

Beetlejuice grins.

“If any of you have a message for th’ devil, give it to me!” he shouts, with a cackle, and he watches in rapt and morbid delight at the way the faces in the crowd twist. “I’ll carry it down to hell for you!” The crowd is furious enough it almost seems to him they’re going to storm the platform, and maybe beat him to death. The wave of gasps from the women folk is particularly amusing.

“Enough of this!” He hears the voice of the lawman, disgusted, and the hangman must agree, because the last thing he hears is the lever being thrown, and the floor gives out under him, and he’s falling, falling, falling.

His ass hits a chair.

There’s a moment of blinded confusion, because he's gone from the unbearable dusty sun of midday California, to a cool, dark, musty smelling interior. His eyes need a moment to adjust to the change. He’s sitting in a room he doesn’t recognize. The chair under him is plush, but just thin seated enough to be a tad uncomfortable. He squirms in it, confused, and finds his hands are still tied behind his back. He turns his head. Seated across from him is a young woman.. Well, little girl might be more accurate, she’s maybe fourteen. There’s a wicked looking hoofprint emblazoned on her right temple. The blood that’s leaking from the wound has gone a sickly old color. They stare at each other. “Did that hurt?” she asks, first, and he squints, because he’d been about to ask the same question. Her hand has gone to her throat, as she looks at him, and he looks down, pressing his fat face into his fat neck to create an unflattering double chin as he does so. He can feel the rope around his neck. He follows the line of it with his eyes, and turns to look up. The rope travels up from him, into the ceiling. It’s still taught, like he’s suspended by it, but his ass is touching chair, his boots are on the ground, and he doesn’t feel choked by it’s presence. He tuts. “Didn’t feel a thing. That hurt?” he tries to gesture to her wound, but again, he’s reminded his hands are bound behind him. She stands. “Hurt a bit, but then I got so dizzy I didn’t hardly feel it, after,” she tells him, and then, like the good little frontierswoman she is, she produces a knife from inside some pocket in the volume of her skirts, and gratefully, he leans forward. She rests a knee on one of the chairs, to get a better angle, as she uses her bowie to cut through the rope at his wrists. “Awful kind of you, half pint,” he tells her, and she smiles. “Ain’t nothin.” She settles into the chair next to him, which is a little surprising, but he doesn’t mind, over all. “You’re an outlaw, then?” she asks. He grunts, and then turns to face her, with a grin. “You probably heard of me. They called me Th’ Ghost, on occasion, cause I could slip away without bein’ caught-” he watches her eyes travel up the line of his noose, and then settle back on his face, a little less impressed than she ought to be. He responds by pinching her nose, and she swats at his hand, and laughs. “I do think I heard of you,” she concedes. “I’m Presley.” “Presley, alright. You got a clue where we are, kiddo?” “I just was told to wait.” “Told by who?”

Across the room, a window he hadn’t registered as being there slides open. This place vaguely resembles a bank, he realizes, and so that means that’s the teller’s window. A woman with a tired expression on a pretty face peers out at him. “Hey, dead beat,” she calls, her accent thick around the words. “Juno wants to see you.” He motions to himself, questioningly. She raises an eyebrow in silent confirmation. “Should I care?” he asks, and her upper lip curls in the most beautiful version of a sneer he’s ever seen. “You’re real funny. Get in there before she loses her temper.” And she reaches up, and slams the window shut.

He looks to Presley, and they both share a little shrug, before he stands, and takes a step. The rope going through the ceiling moves with him, not along any visible track, that he can see, but seeming rather more like a toy balloon on a string, bobbing along as though after a child winding their way through the crowd of a state fair. There’s a door by the teller’s window, and he makes for it, only for the window to slide open again, and that beautiful face to reappear. She looks him over, not seeming particularly impressed, but also not outright cruel. “Where’s your handbook?” she asks. Beetlejuice tilts his head. It lolls a little comically to one side, presumably because his neck is broken. She sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. “You can’t be serious. You didn’t bring your handbook?” “Listen, lady, even if I had whatever book you’re talkin about, I couldn’t read it,” he counters, and she pauses, at that. “Illiterate. Of course. What’s even the point of the handbook when so many folks can’t read it?” she mutters to herself, and then she waives him at the door, the conversation apparently over. Alright.

The door, predictably, leads to a hallway, a bit unlike anything he’s ever seen before, in terms of sheer length of the thing. It twists around like a snake, and the number of doors along the hall leads him to believe wherever he is, it’s massive. The hallway is empty, save for a man at the far end, mopping, and there doesn’t seem to be anything around for him to tuck into his pockets. Too bad, he mopes, as he carries himself down the hall, boots clacking in a way he finds tactile and pleasant. He passes the custodian, who stares at the floor behind him and sighs, and Beetlejuice looks back to see a mess of dusty footprints he’s left on a previously slightly damp but otherwise pristine floor. With a snort, he spits into the bucket of mop water, and the other man jumps back, disgusted, as Beetlejuice cackles, and continues his leisurely walk down the hall.

At a certain point he realizes he’s got no idea where he’s going, but it doesn’t especially matter. Wherever he is now, whatever version of the afterlife this is, because clearly, that’s what this is, it doesn’t seem to be fire and brimstone and all that bullshit, so he takes it easy, opening doors at random and peeking through. The things he sees don’t always make sense to him, feel like they’re out of place from the world as he knows it. He opens one door, and suddenly he’s staring at what must be a city, but the buildings are so tall they’re touching the sky, going up past the clouds, up into the heaven he doesn’t believe can really be up there. The people are dressed strangely, men and women wandering around in little more than underclothes, which he likes, instantly, and the streets are black with painted yellow lines, instead of dust and earth. Some kind of metal.. Something, a trolley without a track, moves on it’s own down the street, and he catches a glimpse of faces inside. He gets lost in the contents of this door, staring for a long time, entranced, and then it’s slammed suddenly. He turns, catches sight of the custodian with his hand on the door, and growls, an animalistic sound he didn’t know he could do. And then he stops, and turns to look, because the custodian is still a ways behind him, mopping with spit water. It’s the same man. “You don’t need to go poking your snout into places it doesn’t belong,” the man says, simply, and then in a blink, both versions of him are gone from the hallway. Maybe that’s just an… afterlife thing.

He reaches, after what feels like a boring and dragging eternity of twenty whole minutes, a set of saloon doors, the swinging kind. There’s a void of blackness behind them, but the draw he feels is unmistakable, and he pushes them open, and walks through. Instead of a room black as ink, he finds himself… standing on the wooden porch of a bar he remembers frequenting fairly often, in his younger days. At least, he has clear memories of walking into the bar. How and when and why he ended up outside of it, well… whiskey has a hell of an effect on a man’s memory. It’s a fairly chilly desert night. The chirping of crickets and the long ways away lonely baying of a dog is a sort of familiar comfort, but god damn it, he’s just left this world. He wasn’t intending on coming back to it, ever. The dusty streets are dim, illuminated only by the moon, the stars, and the few lamps still burning in windows. The town is quiet.

On the dirt road in front of him is a woman, staring at him. She’s small, older, nicely dressed, with hair shorter than he’s ever seen on a lady, and a mouth sort of like a toad, long and downturned. There’s an unlit cigarette between her fingers. She’s watching him, curious and apathetic all at once. He returns the look. “Juno, then?” he grunts, stepping off the porch. No dust lifts when his boots hit the unpaved road, which he notes. Maybe he’s not really here. Maybe he’s a ghost. Fitting.

“Lawrence “Beetlejuice” Shoggoth,” she says, as he comes to stand in front of her. “Took you long enough. You realize I’ve been waiting here for days. You get lost, or something?” Her tone is sharp, like a schoolmarm with too much on her hands and not enough energy for it all. He feels a little sheepish, if only because no, he hadn’t realized that. “Gimme a break,” he says, instead of an apology. “I just died.” “Like that makes you special,” she huffs, and then, waving her unlit cigarette in his face, machine rolled, not hand, he notes, she asks, “Have you got a match?” He produces one from one of the many pockets of his moss green duster, strikes it on his thumb, and holds it up for her. She has the decency to look grateful, as she leans in, cigarette to her lips, and lights it from that little flame. “So,” she exhales smoke, and it curls from the corner of her lips, and out a previously unspotted slash to her throat. No wondering how she died, then. Speaking of, he glances up, to see that his noose is no longer floating above his head, and turning, he catches sight of it dragging on the ground behind him, long and snake-like in the way it’s twisted and coiled. Juno snaps her long red nails in his face, brings his attention back to her. “You weren’t supposed to die, you know. You’ve mucked things up for me.” “Whut?” he grunts, a bit thrown. She rubs her temples. “You were supposed to go in your seventies. Catch tuberculosis and wither away in obscurity. How old are you?” “Thirty four, or abouts,” he croaks, and she takes another drag. “You let yourself be caught,” she accuses. Well.. yeah. But how the hell does she know that? “I got pinned down in a shootout. Lucky they didn’t blow my head off, right then.” “You’ve gotten out of worse.” She looks almost.. Disappointed. “And then you put down your weapons, instead of fighting it out.” “I was surrounded.” “You were sloppy.” “What’s it to you, anyway?” he growls, again low and animalistic, which Juno ignores, as she walks circles around him, studying him. “You let yourself be caught, and you let yourself be hung. You didn’t even try to get away. You might not have killed yourself, but you let them kill you, for you,” she says. “And it’s giving me a hell of a time, both because it’s changed you, and because I have to put you somewhere, Beetlejuice, and now no one knows where you should go.” “So what does that mean?” “It means, my little statistical outlier, that you’re going to be staying up here, probably a lot broader a time than it would have taken you to just live your life and die at seventy,” she sighs, rubbing at her forehead. “Which is a shame. Because.. I was looking forward to.. To you. And now we both have to wait longer,” and here, she finishes her circle of him, to stand face to face with him again, and she flicks his ear, the way he always imagined an frustrated mother might. “Because you gave up. You weren’t supposed to give up.” “Wasn't much worth livin’ for,” he says, and it’s got more emotion behind it than he meant to give it. Juno’s hand goes to her throat, and she looks pained. “I guess that’s an inherited trait,” her voice is soft, and he squints at her, confused. Instead of giving him any context for that, she points down the dusty main road. Shining under the moonlight, he can see, vaguely, a dark shape suspended in air, near the gallows. “Go put your suit back on,” she says dryly. “And try not to cause enough trouble that I have to come up here and get after you, understood?” “What part of outlaw ain’t you gettin?” he snorts, and she responds by giving him an affectionate pat to his scruffy cheek, before she takes another drag, and vanishes inside the swirling smoke. He’s left standing on his own.

His “suit” is still hanging, he notes, looking up at himself. He’s strung up on a tall pole by the platform, leaving it free for more use, if need be, with his body on display as a gruesome reminder for potential criminals that this is a hanging town, and they’ve even hung their most despised son. His neck is bent at an ugly angle, a little bulge at the side betraying how exactly his bones had shattered, and his skin has gone a bad color, gray and foul looking. But aside from that, he’s not rotted the way he would think he ought to be. Juno’d said she’d been waiting for days, presumably meaning it has been days since his death, but his body is looking remarkably unbuzzard pecked and unrotted. He shimmies up the pole he’s hung from, his ghostly noose trailing behind him, and the moment he touches his own boot, the world spins, going upside down and inside out in a way that’s too painful to try and perceive.

“Gahh-” says Beetlejuice, because he’s back in his body, which is still being hung by that god damn noose, and he realizes, annoyed, that he has no way of cutting himself down. He kicks, pointlessly, one hand going to the rope at his neck, to clutch it and try to keep it from choking himself again, and the other grabbing at the rope further up, gripping it to pull himself up, give himself some slack, instead of hanging taught. It’s not the most coordinated he’s ever been. At least there’s no one around to watch him struggle.

“Holy shit, the body’s movin!” he hears someone holler. Oh, come on.

Read the rest, right over HERE

[astranva]

TikTok Series | Christmas Dance

Word Count: 1k

Category: Fluff

Warning: F word mentioned like twice.

Summary: You and Harry do the Winter Wonderland/Here Comes Santa Claus TikTok dance.

// masterlist where the rest of the TikTok pieces are //

..

When you had seen all these people do the Winter Wonderland / Here Comes Santa Claus dance on TikTok, you weren’t so sure if Harry would be willing to do the dance with you because:

1)   The both of you couldn’t learn TikTok dances if your lives depended on it.

2)   You always ended up laughing too much to go on.

3)   You always turn it into the both of you goofing around.

But Christmas in 2020 was predicted to not have its usual spark, something that you and Harry, along with the rest of the world, were disheartened by.

There he sat, listening to a podcast through his earphones as he drank his tea with one hand, the other mindlessly playing with your hair as you rested your head on his lap while scrolling on your phone.

At Harry’s sigh and slight movement, you looked up at him to find him scrolling through his phone. “You done?”

He hummed, looking down at you with a small smile, “Yeah. Liked the last one better though.”

“Are you still going to tell me about it before bed?”

It was a tradition that the both of you had started during quarantine; he’d listen to podcasts, then talk about them with you before going to bed. It was always amusing because of how diverse Harry’s podcast preference was.

“Of course.” He wiggled his fingers in your hair.

“So, now that you’re done-”

“Uh oh.” Harry joked, grinning down at you.

“Shut up,” you giggled, scrolling on your phone to reach the TikTok you wanted to show him, “Can we do this?”

Showing him a TikTok video of a couple doing the Winter Wonderland dance, Harry watched intently, smiling and raising his eyebrows throughout it.

“You sure, lovie? We always fuck up these dances.”

“I know, but it’ll be fun.”

And that was half an hour before the both of you were in the matching Christmas pajama set Harry had bought during his quarantine shopping; red fuzzy pajamas, white Christmas trees, reindeer, and ornaments on it.

For emphasis, the both of you stood in front of your newly decorated tree, it twinkling with the lights you had wrapped around it along with the festive ornaments that brought life to it.

You had watched two tutorials, taking notes as attempting the moves together, laughing at the parts that seemed too complicated for your mediocre dancing abilities when it came to TikTok choreography.

With his hair flopping, Harry ran his fingers through his hair to push it back from his face, watching as you fumbled before beginning to record.

Moving to your phone camera’s view, you and Harry did the first move as the song sounded.

Grabbing your hips, you and Harry both wiggled your butts, Harry giggling as you did.

You went to the right side, only for Harry to move to the same side.

“Oh, fuck! I was supposed to go to the left.” Harry laughed, putting his hands on his waist as he watched you move to your phone.

“Yeah it’s right for me, left for you, left for me, right for you.” You reminded him.

“Got it.” He nodded.

Beginning out of frame again, you did the steps, Harry remembering to go the left side before the both of you before “rolling the dice.”

Whipping your hair, the both of you then dropped low, you losing balance before falling on your butt as your hand reached out to Harry, bringing him to his butt with you.

“We’re awful at this stuff.” Harry said, dramatically lying on his back and sprawling.

“Nooo, we’re going to do this!” You laughed, throwing yourself on top of him, “We didn’t whip out the PJ’s for nothing.”

“We were already going to wear them.”

“Yeah, on Christmas day, not eve. Come on, baby, pleeease?”

He released a sigh, one hand reaching to wrap around you on him, “The things I do for you.”

“The things you do with me.” You gave him a grin, watching as Harry mirrored it.

“That, too.”

It took you 5 more failed videos to get it right before finally getting it done on the 6th.

Giggly, you stood beside each other as you watched the video.

“Oooo, yes!” Harry clapped when you dropped it low before coming back up.

“You look adorable, oh my God, everyone’s going to die at this.” You commented as you watched Harry do the dolphin move.

“I can’t believe we finally did that,” he said with wide eyes, opening his arms, “We’ve just successfully did a TikTok dance.”

You squealed slightly, fully aware of how the both of you were making a big deal out of it but in your defense, you had been trying to post one decent dance since March but all attempts were in vain.

“Should we write a shared caption?” You asked, feeling Harry approach you before moving to wrap his arms around you from behind, looking over your shoulder at your phone.

“Merry Christmas?”

“This is offensive to your songwriter title, H.”

“Bring back Christmasy Christmas?”

You grinned, looking over your shoulder before leaning to peck his lips, “Atta boy.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect it, but 4 hours after you had posted the dance, it had 2 million likes and countless comments.

“OH MY GOD WHAT”

“HARRY DOING A TIKTOK DANCE?????”

“I want to thank my lord and savior, Y/N, for saving 2020 with the TikTok content.”

“he looks so happy around Y/N, I can’t believe there are people out there who don’t ship them/like Y/N? is this even possible?”

“THE MATCHING PJS DON’T TOUCH ME I’M CRYING”

With everyone’s reactions, you knew that this wouldn’t be the last of your TikTok videos with Harry, and Harry’s own version of “goodnight, sweet dreams” was proof of it;

“I love doing these things with you, you know? Like, just being a fucking dorky boyfriend who hops on trends or whatever. I love seeing you smile like that,” he had said before prepping your cheek with soft kisses, “Even when it’s at how much of a baby I am,” Harry had giggled, “Can make TikToks with you any time of the day, lovie, and I’d be happy. As long as you are, too, because I love you.”

[tamagochiie]

pairing: timeskip!kenma x fem!reader synopsis: You come home late from your cousin’s funeral, and though Kenma didn’t expect much from you but perhaps a few leftovers you’ve managed to steal away from the dinner, he finds you with a surprise: a sleeping child cradled around your neck and a teenage boy hovering behind you. Your poor boyfriend wondering what in the hell it is you’re plotting… tags: angst and fluff, time skip!, slight spoilers if you squint warnings: mentions of death, mentions of depression, cursing, mentioned homophobia w/c: 3.6k

tagging list:  @angrylittleriri​ @chims-kookies​ @gooseyhouse @kiyokoscunchie​ @unhappyraspberry​ @elianetsantana​ 

a/n: welcome to the THIRD chapter of the fic! i hope you’re all doing well since i’ve last posted. I genuinely apologize for the delay! a few personal things kinda popped up, and it kinda derailed the process of posting this fic, but at least we’re here now!  this is a bit longer compared to the other chapters, but i hope you all enjoy! please ignore any grammar mistakes, i proof read this to the best of my ability and it’s currently 5 in the morning :’) 

see you all next week for the final chapter.  p.s. I do have a smol surprise, so stay tuned for next week! 

back to master list

<< life as she’s known it | life as they’ll know it >>

Kenma had always been aware of the common misconception people had of him, and the lack of interest they had to confirm it: that he had the inability to express his thoughts and feelings let alone identify it. 

In a way, he did find it rather difficult to open up. Being bullied as a child silenced him into the dreading assumption that anyone who was kind to him or showed any interest in him were only doing so just to mess with him. 

It took Kuroo quite a lot when he first met Kenma. He bent his little body over and under, jumping through hoops like a show pony just to get Kenma to even blink his way. And though all that effort strained him, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you he’d do it all again if he could. 

But it wasn’t a question of whether or not Kenma could identify what he was feeling and thoroughly express it. He had the right words, all of which were hanging off the tip of his tongue. He just didn’t know how to say it without sounding insensitive or heartless. 

So as he stares at Yuki twirling in a dress you found digging through one of your old childhood clothes, his lips run dry. His words tuck behind the swell of his heart because though Yuki does indeed look like the cutest child he’s ever seen, his thoughts are full of concern, worried about what people say to a little boy showing up in a jean overall dress with purple and yellow flowers embroidered at the hem. 

His eyes gape onto the sight before him, flickering over to Eiji when he hears him clear his throat. He seems just as troubled, quieter than usual while he watches over his brother. Not a single trace of amusement is seen in Eiji’s face. He doesn’t seem happy at all, and it phases Kenma; he’s usually stoic if not smiling in the presence of Yuki. 

Yuki continues to giggle himself, gripping onto the material of his dress to have it flow in the air. He looks up to meet your eyes, oblivious to the two boys muddled in their own distress. 

“I’m sorry, Yuki-chan,” You huff, smiling down to the little boy running circles in the middle of the living room. “If I had known the preschool was gonna accept you so soon, I would’ve brought you to the mall...But this should be fine for now, right? Is this okay with you, Yuki-chan?” 

Yuki disregards your apology, holding up your old frog raincoat as he beams at his “new” found clothes. 

“Plus, these don’t look so old, and it doesn’t look too girly, don’t you think?” You turn to Kenma who spares you nothing more than a nod. You follow his gaze and find it etched into the embroidered hem. 

It doesn’t pass off as boy clothes, he thinks, letting your words breeze past him. 

Kenma isn’t shy with breaking gender norms; he’s worn a few skirts and dresses himself, all that are still sitting in his closet to be worn again. His qualms aren’t with Yuki wearing a dress, but the treatment he’s expected to get when he shows up to his first day of school. He’ll be bullied into the same silence Kenma faced, and he’ll amount to nothing more than rubble beneath their judgement. 

They say times are changing, so the people must be too, right? But there’s a persistent constricting feeling building up in his chest as if it comes as a warning sign. And the fact that Eiji looks just as uneasy as himself hints that maybe Yuki should change out of something less...worrisome. 

“Mmm, Yuki,” Kenma clears his throat, trying to subside the build up of his uneasiness, “maybe you should wear something else…?” Yuki’s smile falters at his words as confusion colors away his joy. “I think you should wear the pants with the little frog shirt you picked out instead.” 

He doesn’t mean for his words to come out bitter and cold, and the momentum of his panic leaves a lump in his throat he isn’t too sure he’ll be able to swallow if he keeps his silence. 

Yuki looks up to him, blinking away at his words with glistening eyes. “I don’t look pretty?” Yuki’s voice comes out small--smaller than his fingers and toes. Smaller than his ability to comprehend where Kenma’s truly coming from. “You don’t like it, Kenma-san..?”

Oh no, he thinks to himself. Panic rises from his stomach and climbs up to his chest; a tightness in his throat soon follows when Yuki begins to blubber, telling him how mean he’s being. I didn’t mean to make him--

“Kozume.” You chide, looking at him quizzically. He meets your eyes and he instantly freezes up, thinking you, too, have come to misunderstand him. “What are you doing? Do something.” 

But he can’t. If he opens his mouth, he’ll only sound meaner than before, and he’d rather not add any more confusion or any more pain to the little boy. 

“Say something,” You push, glaring at him. “Kozume.” 

His throat goes dry as well as his lips, and when he finally does gain enough courage, Eiji takes a step forward beating him to the punch. “Yuki, I think it’s better you just wear pants. Dresses are for girls, and you shouldn’t be wearing this kind of stuff.” 

Your eyes widen and so does Kenma’s. Eiji’s is stern and clear in contrast to all the other times he’s spoken since he’s arrived. You watch as he kneels to meet Yuki’s eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder before running it up to his cheek to wipe away his tears. 

“There might be some problems if you wear a dress to school, Yuki-chan. And didn’t we promise each other we wouldn’t cause them any trouble for Oba-san and Kenma-san while we’re here?” Eiji’s voice is a lot soft, yet his words are still firm. Yuki quietly submits to his brother, hanging his head low as he continues to cry. 

You stand there both stunned. 

You want to speak up, but you’re still unsure of your place; who you are and what you can say. So you stand there with Kenma tightlipped at your side with tension hanging above your heads, watching as Yuki quietly sniffles to himself as he hugs the pile of clothes he’s picked and carries it into their shared bedroom. 

Needless to say, everyone goes to bed tucked beneath the covers of their guilt. 

                                                                                   ❁ ❁ ❁

Quiet mornings with a steaming cup at hand while treading lightly through the endless sea of emails in his iPad brought Kenma an odd sense of peace, and he looked forward to it every morning. But much to Kenma’s dismay, the apartment is too quiet and the coffee bitter; the chill in the atmosphere is unsettling as he falls into deep thought. 

He thinks back to the events of last night; Yuki’s crying face, your contorted look of confusion, and Eiji’s words. It all comes pouring down on him like a bucket of cold water. 

Not even his coffee can spare him from the chill down his spine. 

He mentally kicks himself, thinking of all the other ways he could’ve said it better. How he could’ve prevented him from breaking Yuki’s little heart and avoided your cold shoulder as you left in a hurry to take the kids to their schools. 

Kenma sucks in a breath as the stinging spreads across his chest. The weight of his cup grows heavy and he shifts his grip to a more comfortable hold. Nothing about the morning is comforting, and it leaves Kenma in distress, the feeling spilling into his work as he continues about his day. 

He can barely read a single line of an email let alone write one; his senses aren’t as sharp as he struggles to smoothen his hand-eye coordination during gaming; and he catches himself zoning out in the middle of his online meetings, barely humming responses to questions he pretends to hear. 

Kenma wonders how Yuki’s doing, and what he could do to apologize and gain his trust back. Maybe he’ll get some strawberry milk on the way to fetch him, or buy the little duck umbrella he caught him eyeing at the convenience store. 

Kenma isn’t good with words if one were to ask him to be gentle and kind. He’s blunt and straight to the point, and it took him more than just a while to get used to softening the blow of his words and how he delivers them. 

And now, as he muddles in his misery does he ingrain those habits deeper into thought until it becomes muscle memory to his lips. 

He’s only then pulled from his squabbles when the doorbells rings throughout the apartment. His feet drag him to the door as his mutters in his resentment. What in the hell could be here--

“You’re shitting me.” Kenma grimaces at  the sight of the cheeky grin plastered across his best friend’s face as he opens the door; his hair tousled to the side and his usual business attire unkempt.  “What the hell do you want?” 

Kuroo pouts, pretending to be wounded by the bitter greeting as he holds a hand to his heart. “Is that how you greet an old friend?” 

“Not now, Kuroo-san.” Despite the bite in his words and his half-hearted attempt to shut the door, Kuroo welcomes himself in, kicking his shoes to the side before trailing behind him. 

“I miss your calls,” Kuroo teases, eyes wandering about the apartment, “you don’t even text me back anymore.” 

“I don’t have the time.” Kenma grits as he pinches the bridge of his nose. A drunken, dizzying feeling whirling in his head; probably because of all the coffee he’s downed and the little water he’s consumed. “Whatever it is you’re here to pester me with, please save it for another time and leave.” 

“Why? Stay at home daddy roles keeping you occupied?” The cushion of the couch bends beneath Kuroo’s weight as he leisurely raises his feet to the coffee table, arms relaxing over to the arm rest. “I wasn’t so surprised when you became a CEO, but this--fatherhood was something I’d imagined you’d do much later...” 

Irritation seeps through Kenma’s skin in the form of tense muscles and a clenched jaw as Kuroo continues on to pass cheap jokes and badgers him. He swipes a bottle warm from the fridge before joining Kuroo on the other side of the couch, kicking his foot off the table on the way. 

“You’re so cold to me.” Kuroo whines, ruffling Kenma’s pudding head hair, earning a disapproving tsk. “Seriously, how’s it someone like you skips the step to marriage and dives straight to having kids? I’m a bit hurt. I had to hear it from Shoyo. Like, seriously? Shoyo? I thought I was your best friend?” 

“Self-proclaimed.” He corrects, unbothered by Kuroo’s sore expression as he untwists the cap from the bottle before chugging the water down in one breath. “Will you leave now?” 

“Why are you so keen to push me out?” Kuroo lifts himself off the warmth of the cushions, moving closer to his evidently troubled friend as he picks off the seal from the plastic bottle. “Kenma, are you okay? Kyanma?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose once again, Kenma shakes his head as he leans his head back. Kuroo tilts his head, watching as his friend unravels in his pain; manifesting both metaphorically and physically. 

“I’ve said something mean to a little boy and he didn’t even deserve it.” Kenma fiddles the empty bottle, tossing it to the side before anxiously fiddling with his fingers. 

“What happened?” 

A deep and heavy sigh escapes him, “He was wearing a dress and I told him he shouldn’t. A-And, And it’s not like I didn’t want him to. I don’t mind it all, but people are mean and the thought that he might face the same kind of treatment I did--Kuroo-san, I don’t want that.”

“You only meant well,” Kuroo places his hand on Kenma’s shoulder, rubbing circles against the material of his old Nekoma sweater. “Though, you could’ve said it better--” 

“You know damn well I’m not good at that!” Kenma spits, cutting him off. 

“But the point is, you meant well!” He reiterates. “Might’ve come across as a lil douche-y, but the intentions were there. But I think you of all people know that no matter what, there’ll always be someone mean. And I don’t think you can shield him from that. Maybe temporarily, but not forever.” 

“I don’t want that kind of pain for him!” Kenma abruptly stands from his place, frustration tingling at his fingertips as it spreads throughout the rest of his body. “He’s so small, Kuroo-san. You should’ve seen him. I said one thing and it already looked like he was gonna break. What happens when he hears words worse than mine? What’ll I do then? What can I do for him?” 

Sniffling. It is the sound that follows after Kenma’s voice breaks and causes Kuroo to raise his brows. At first he thinks his ears have tricked him, but when he finds tears pooling down to his chin as he collapses back onto his seat. 

And it is at this moment, after all the time that has passed, has he seen him break.  

“I-I don’t know how to do any of this. I’m so confused.” Kenma babbles on, stumbling on his own words and choking in between his sobs. And all Kuroo can offer is a soft, rhythmic pat on his back to try and calm him down.

“I’ve been doing some reading about how to understand children or how to raise one, but it's so different. There’s all these theories and guidelines, but no one tells you that you forget everything you read the second they appear in front of you…” 

Kenma holds his head in his trembling hands, crying even harder. All the while he wonders what the child version of him would think if saw him as fragile as the fallen leaves that’d crunch beneath his feet. He’d wonder if he had known the stress he’d fall prey to, would he have continued? 

But as the image of you bleed through his worries, he’s more than sure of his answer. 

Yes. 

Yes, I would. 

Over and over again in one breath. 

“You will be to that child what you needed when you were bullied.” Kuroo’s words are steady, matched with an endearing smile to comfort Kenma’s crying as he meets his glistening gaze. “You needed someone to reassure you that all you heard were nothing but lies, so you do that for him.” 

“Ah, my dear friend, have you not heard of the phrase ‘It takes a village to raise a child’?” Kenma merely blinks at him quizzically as Kuroo snakes an arm around him to bring him close. “What I’m tryna say is: stop acting like you don’t have me, and Shoyo, and the rest of your friends who’re just within your reach. No one ever said it was only just going to be the two of you.” 

Kenma swallows thickly, nodding in agreement as he wipes away the snot dripping from the tip of his nose. He says his thanks that’s quieter than a whisper, it comes airy and a bit croaky from crying. 

The words of his best friend doesn’t immediately fill his heart with peace, but it does lift a little weight from his shoulders. It does give him the sense of security he’s been searching for. And all Kenma wants to do now is apologize to Yuki-- 

“Speaking of,” Kuroo clears his throat, wandering his eyes around the expanse of the apartment. “Where are the kids…?” 

“Oh, shit.” 

                                                           ❁ ❁ ❁

Kuroo and Kenma’s feet click clack against the pavement as they run down to Yuki’s preschool. The cool afternoon air winds past the pair; Kenma’s chest is heaving in pain while Kuroo barely breaks a sweat. 

“I can’t believe you forgot the child!” Kuroo shouts behind him, laughing at Kenma struggling to catch up. “How could you forget a child?” 

“I was pretty preoccupied today!” Kenma countered between ragged breaths. “If your ass didn’t show up I would’ve remembered!” 

“Not with all that crying!”

“Don’t you dare bring that up ever!” 

Kuroo’s hyena laugh carries two blocks over. Head turn as the two continue to bicker all the way down until they arrive at the preschool. Children clamoring before the gate, mingling with their parents and Kenma’s hooded gaze sweeps through the crowd to find a familiar tousled head of hair. 

“What’s he look like?” Kuroo towers over Kenma and the children, squinting his eyes and looking around as if he’s got any clue. 

“He, uh, he should be wearing jeans and a frog shir--” Kenma’s attention is pulled from a string of voices singing praises to find Yuki proudly twirling in his embroidered dress, basking in their compliment. 

It becomes clear to Kenma you dire need to leave the house immediately was because of this. Because you were being coy.

But Yuki’s joy is short-lived, locking eyes with Kenma huffing for air after all the running. But to the young boy gaping up at him, it looks as if he’s ready to yell. So he stops his twirling, his smile slipping away as the rest of the kids’ turn to face him. 

Yuki straightens himself, adjusting the straps of his backpack as he carefully walks towards Kenma with his head hung low. Kuroo elbows his side and nearly knocks out the little air he has left. 

He swipes his tongue across his lips before he speaks, But before he can even utter a sound, his train of thought is pulled from him once again. 

“Disgusting.” An abrasive, disembodied voice grimaces. Not a single care if they’re heard. 

“Why the hell is he wearing a dress?” Says another. 

“Honestly, this generation…” 

“Boy’s aren’t supposed to be wearing dresses.” 

The chattering picks up and soon all the parents are ogling at Yuki who can hear them all so clearly, and Kenma notices him shrinking into his froggy raincoat, trying to hide from their judgemental stares. 

This, Kenma thinks. This is exactly what I mean. 

Kenma is not an emotional person, and not once did he ever raise his voice or act on what he was feeling without thinking it over. And as much as he’d like to throw his hands and cause a scene, he remembers Kuroo’s advice. 

“Who’s child is this?” One of the mothers questions. “Who does this child belong to?” 

“He belongs to me, Miss.” Kenma rasps, taking Yuki’s hand in his before turning to the woman. “I am the guardian and this is my child.” 

“And you allow your child to wear a dress?” 

“Yes.” He answers, finding the footing in his confidence to talk back to a woman who can easily tower over him if she steps closer. “Yes, and what does that have to do with you?” 

“Have you no shame?” She glares at him in disgust, sighing. “He’s a boy! Boy’s shouldn’t be wearing dresses! It’s for girls! What kind of message are you trying to teach him?”

 “And what about you, Miss? Are you proud to show your kid and all these other young minds that its okay to be a bigot? That it’s okay to be uneducated?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Then beg.” Kenma spits, his cat eyes burning holes into the mother’s skin. He’s completely unphased by the growing whispers exchanged between the parents. Kuroo watches proudly in the background, quietly cheering him on. “Skirts were worn by both men and women during the prehistoric times, and biologically speaking, it makes more sense if men were to wear skirts. They only stopped because people as close minded and uneducated as you feared femininity.” 

“So I should ask you the same question, Miss: have you no shame? Telling a small child he’s disgusting because we wanted to wear something that made him happy and comfortable. Is he hurting you?” 

The woman’s lips fall to an ‘o’ as she’s at a loss for words, and Kenma relishes in his growing confidence, bending down to Yuki to pick him up and rest him onto his hip. 

“You have no right to talk to my child that way.” Kenma clears his throat, taking a step back as he maintains eye contact with all the parents at sight. “Let me make this very clear: should you feel the need to take my place as his guardian and try to speak for me, I suggest you don’t.” 

Kenma let’s his words linger in the air and begins to walk away, Kuroo slipping through the sea of parents to walk alongside him. 

A smirk slips across his lips, looking down to Yuki clinging his around Kenma’s neck. 

“Wow,” Kuroo breathes, amusement lacing in his tone. “I didn’t think you had it in ya.” 

“Oh my god, I never wanna do that again.” Kenma twitches the cringe out from his body before pressing Yuki closer to him. “I hate talking to people.” 

“But you did a very good job, I’m actually super proud.” 

“Shut up,” Kenma mutters, locking his eyes onto the pavement ahead of him. 

He’s still shocked, unable to believe what had just transpired. He hated the feeling of everyone’s eyes fixed on him, and how quiet it was when he spoke. He hated having to speak up. 

But if had to do it again, he would. 

He’d do it again and again in one breath. 

[cottoncandyjester]

I remember a long time ago you said you wrote about darling meeting the child version of the yan boys, are you going to post that?, pls don't make it sad, I just want to give them some hugs.

Oooh let’s play with this a little bit I have some childhood friend au stuff in my drafts that I might finish that touch on more child versions of the yan boys but for now have this

Decided to do my two favorite families

Warning this contains: sprinkles of sadness

“I will explain the rules one more time, you get to go back to meet them, no one else but them can see you so you’ll be stealing the role as their imaginary friend that way they won’t freak out when they see you~ try not to mess around with things back there too much okay?”

You listened to the demon speaking and a nervous feeling bubbles over you, you were absolutely curious and slightly scared.

“Whose past do you want to visit”

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes and chose…

Hikaru:

You looked around, was this a beach? There wasn’t really anyone else there but you soon heard a loud laughing that made you perk up. “Seashells seashells shiny pretty seashells~” you heard happy singing nod followed it seeing a little child putting seashells in a bucket.

“What are you doing there?” You asked softly as you kneeled down, Hikaru looked up at you with a curious gaze before a bright smile appeared on his face and he went back to looking for seashells.

“I’m looking for seashells cause I’m making a seashell necklace!” He cheered out with a happy little humming. “A seashell necklace? Why?” You asked out making him huff “you’re so silly! It’s so I can lure a mermaid and marry her!” He said proudly.

His statement made you laugh as you reached out and poked his chubby cheek “why do you want a mermaid bride huh? What about me? Do I make a pretty bride?” You asked jokingly. He looked at you with a hum before reading into the bucket and seashells, now taking out a shiny one before handing it to you.

“You would make a pretty bride! But you’re not a mermaid..mama said that mermaids have pretty voices! I wanna sing with one!” He cheered out with a grin.

“Hikaru, come on we’re leaving!” A distant voice called for him making him jolt before he started to run off now hugging the bucket close. He stopped before looking back at you “if I can’t find a mermaid I’ll just marry you so don’t get old and gross!” He called out before waving and rushing away.

Yuuji and Yuuta:

You opened your eyes, now sitting on a bed seeing two kids sitting on the floor…why were they in this room alone?

“Yumi and yachi! You aren’t getting what you want by starving yourselves now open this door!” You heard kenji’s voice now moving to the floor with the two boys. “Why are you two doing this?” You asked out and they looked at you before an expression of familiarity covered their faces.

“Papa is being a meanie and doesn’t wanna call us by our new names” Yuuta hissed out. “We won’t leave til we get what we want!” Yuuji snapped out. “Oh? How long has it been?” You asked curiously.

“Two days..” Yuuta said with a whimper “y-Yuuji, d-do you think mommy misses us?” He asked softly with a pouty expression. Yuuta gulped “o-of course! She has to!” He chimed out, you didn’t realize just how hard the boys had to work to get the acceptance they deserved.

“B-but mommy is having the baby s-soon so what if she replaces us c-cause we are bad kids?!” Yuuta said before starting to cry. Yuuji hugged him close “s-she w-wouldn’t do that! She loves us!” Yuuji said firmly.

You reached out pulling both boys in for a tight hug, a shaky sigh escaping you “your parents must really miss you, maybe you should tell them how you feel” you said softly. 

“We should tell him how we feel!” Yuuji chimed out with a grin

“Papa..?” Yuuta called out, hearing shuffling “yeah?” Kenji said softly with a soft sniffle..was he crying?

“Me and Yuuji don’t wanna be girls anymore, can we be boys instead..please?” He said softly.

There was a few moments of silence before a soft chuckle escaped kenji “Yuuta..Yuuji, please come out and eat, momma and papa misses their boys”

You watched at Yuuji rushed to the door opening it seeing Kenji was sitting on the ground outside the door. The two nearly tackled the male hugging him tightly.

Kenji hugged them tightly peppering kisses all over their faces “god I was so damn worried, don’t worry me like that..I’m getting old yknow don’t scare your papa like that” he said softly.

Seeing this made you really curious..is this why the twins defended and protected their father so much? You had a lot of questions.

Mateo:

The sounds of loud cheering made you flinch, the sight of kids swimming made you focus. You saw mateo, he was winning. Before you could process your mind you found yourself yelling “you got this baby!” You cheered out before realizing the situation you were in. You were so used to cheering for him during his games that it came natural.

You noticed mateo slowed down, the adrenaline stopping for just a moment before he kept going but it was too late, he ended up getting second place. The sight of him being upset as he stared at the medal, tears blurring his vision.

“You shouldn’t cry, you were so amazing” you said softly as you kneeled down looking at the boy. He sniffles and wipes his tears only for more to fall “I-I got tired, I-I forgot to breathe like I’ve been practicing..I-I forgot..I always forget” mateo sobbed out, his wailing growing louder and louder. “Mama and papa couldn’t even show up, I-i t-tried my best a-and-” you pulled him in for a hug, hands shaking lightly. He was so fragile..it made your heart hurt.

“you did the best you could, you always do your best. Didn’t you have fun?” You said softly as you looked at him, mateo glanced down with a sniffle before nodding slowly. “Y-yeah, s-swimming is always fun” he said softly as he messed with the medal around his neck.

“Then, be proud. You were amazing mateo! You went so fast!” You cheered out, your excited tone made him even more excited “r-really?! Hehe! I was like zoom! Super zoom!” He chimed out.

“Teo!” The sound of Dante’s voice made mateo perk up “ah! Dante!” He cheered out, you softly nudged mateo forward “tell him how fast you went” you said softly, watching mateo rush off nearly tipping from utter excitement.

Tiago:

You expected a young tiago to be just like his normal self, gentle and soft maybe even quiet. You definitely weren’t expecting the first sight you saw was a young tiago to be climbing trees and jumping off them. “Wow you’re like Tarzan huh?” You asked out as you watched him with a grin.

“Tarzan got nothing on me!” He cheered out happily, apparently him and his parents were on a cabin vacation to relax his mom before the baby comes. “Oh yeah?” You cooed out with a grin “but Tarzan has a Jane, you don’t have that” you teased making him stop and pause. Tiago sat on a branch and gave a soft hum.

“Okay you’ll be my Jane!” He cheered out before standing ontop of the branch. “That way I’m still better than Tarzan” he chimed out as he held his arms out now walking along the thick branch.

“I dunno if I wanna be Jane.” You said jokingly, Tiago huffs “too late! You’re Jane! I already decided! No take backs!” He said stubbornly. Seeing Tiago like this made you really happy, he is never this carefree and bubbly with you in present time.

“Hmm okay Tarzan, what’s your favorite animal?”

“Ha! That’s easy! Dogs are the best things in the world! They are so loyal and you can sit on their back and use them as horses!” He chimed out, now balancing on one foot as he stood on the branch.

“You shouldn’t actually do that, just ride a horse” you mumbled out making him huff as he looked at you “I never rode a real horse before” he said softly before a cracking noise got your attention. “H-hey you should get down”

“No way! Tarzan would never-” the branch snapped and Tiago came falling down, in a surge of panic you caught him both of you falling down as Tiago sat on your chest now shaking.

“T-that was..so cool! You’re the coolest Jane ever!” He cheered out with a large smile, you on the other hand did not find that cool and glared lightly at tiago..maybe it’s better if he wasn’t this hyper in present times.

“Be careful next time yeah?” You said softly as you sat up now messing with his hair. Tiago looked at you in utter awe before he heard his father calling him.

He got off you before sticking his tongue out at you “blehhh! Bye Jane! Let’s play again okay?” He said happily before running off “papa! papa! I climbed a tree!”

Zeke:

“I don’t think you should be doing this” you said softly to zeke as he placed the Last pot on the ground before grabbing the wooden spoons. “Mama is at work and papa is taking a nap, it’s okay! Plus I wanna play drums” Zeke said before starting to bang the spoon against the pots loudly.

You flinched and winced, the loud noise would definitely get him in huge trouble. You softly grabbed his hands stopping him “how about we do something else instead? You like music yeah? How about we sing?” You said nervously with a smile.

Zeke stared at you before humming and nodding “okay! Let’s sing!” He cheered out happily. You and zeke ended up singing a bunch of different songs before you found yourself humming to zeke as he laid his head in your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair as you started to sing him a lullaby.

“You sound so pretty, like an angel!” Zeke said excitedly before gasping “wait are you an angel?! Can I see your wings?!” He said now sitting up and staring at you. You laughed and glanced away “sorry don’t have wings, if I did you would know” you said softly making him groan as he laid his head back in your lap “boo I wanted to see angel wings, but I guess it’s okay if you aren’t an angel..” he said softly before looking up at you

“Sing me another song!” He cheered out, you simply couldn’t say no to his adorable face so you did just that. You felt his body grow heavier as he slowly fell asleep from you singing.

Dante:

“Why do they say that they are mad? They don’t look angry” dante said as he laid on his stomach reading Alice in wonderland.

“Well mad is another word for crazy” you said softly with a smile, watching him flip the page “why does Alice wanna go home so bad, wonderland is so cool!” He cheered out happily with a smile. “Well she misses her family, wouldn’t you miss your family if you went away somewhere?” You asked him curiously. Dante paused the think before nodding “yeah, I’ll miss Mama and pap and Tiago!” He huffed out as he sat up.

“If i go to wonderland I’ll just take them with me!” He cheered out with a smile, you laughed and sat next to him “I don’t think it works like that” you said softly. He hummed before looking at you “then I’ll bring you! So I won’t be lonely and by myself!” He cheered out with a grin.

He was far too adorable! How was dante this cute as a kid?! “Oh? Okay we’ll go to wonderland one day!” You said excitedly, making the boy stand on his bed “yeah! We’ll drink tea with the mad hatter ooh and paint the roses red!” He exclaimed excitedly, now Jumping on the bed. “It would be like a dream!” He added as he sat back down before a moment of silence came over him.

“If we go to wonderland will you promise not to leave me alone in there, it’s a big biiig place” he said softly as he grabbed your hand giving it a small squeeze. You hugged him with a soft sigh “I promise! We’ll hold hands the entire time so we won’t get lose or separated!”

“Hold hands? Okay!” He cheered out. You spent the rest of the time talking to him about the things he loves like Soccer, fantasy stories and music. He had so much energy and passion that you couldn’t help but sit there and listen to Every word

[beautifulterriblequeen]

B2:S - Chapter 5

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be lots of Viren deets, Best Boy Soren deets, some writing/continuity stuff, worldbuilding appreciation and half of a theory, Detective Rayla, Moon Temple geeking, Claudium and dark magic, and more!

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

(I know for darn sure that I wrote up a post for chapter 4, but I can't find it anywhere so I guess Tumblr ate it and I'll have to redo it at some point, but today is not that day)

Viren, my evil dude, my bad guy, coming in clutch with the worldbuilding and backstory again! If you want to know decades of information, you gotta talk to Viren. Or read his scenes, at least. Here, he seems to not sleep much when he has a big problem to analyze his way through. Solutions trump pretty much everything else in this guy's life, and he's had a really hard week with a lot of new and complicated problems. Of course he's getting sleep-deprived trying to find his way through them all.

Harrow put so much trust in Viren when he made him High Mage! He just threw himself extra hard at that Lady Justice blindfold, didn't he? Didn't really want to see what Viren was doing in his magic study, so he left Viren to his devices. And Viren has a lot of devices.

Also, this is fascinating: Viren made the secret passage to his "less official study" in Katolis Castle! And he was inspired to do so by the way his own mentor kept the Puzzle House. What else could a Puzzle House be, except a place with secret passages? Yay! secret headcanon that "the Puzzle House" is just "Katolis Castle" from Kid Viren's perspective tho

So either Viren built all of those passageways, or at least the ones to his dungeon. Which means he has to have, or know where to get, a stash of those glowing blue Moonshadow crystals. Hmmm.

I can't wait to learn more about Kpp'Ar and young Viren, btw. From this description of Viren and all his literal secret ways, it feels like another parallel between Viren and Runaan, with the whole "secretive paths, members only, insider knowledge" type stuff. Only the really cool members of this cult club get to know the secrets, and guess what, kid, you're cool now but you can never tell anyone, okay? Our secret.

Yeahhh, that'll never backfire in any way for either of them.

Kpp'Ar calling puzzles and secrets "man-made magic," though. Yes sir, knowledge is indeed power.

This chapter mentions Runaan by name, from Viren's perspective. Generally that would imply that Viren knows his name, even though assassins do not share their names, and Runaan didn't seem to give his to Viren in the first book. However, there was a scene in book one where the last paragraph switched perspective from Viren to Runaan - a technique that's very common in visual media like movies and shows and gives you that "ohoho they left the room and didn't notice this, but you do!" vibe. Using Runaan's name there in book one, where Viren couldn't see it but readers could, helps them keep track of the assassin's story arc while maintaining Viren's racism.

So in book two, in which Runaan has no onscreen scenes (alas), using his name in a scene that calls back to the events in book one helps us remember what happened in that dungeon cell. It would be a bit muddier to recall the specifics if Viren kept thinking about Runaan as "Elf." So I'm cool with the perspective nudge because it serves a narrative purpose: clarity. But I'm also enjoying the angst of considering that, somehow, Viren learned Runaan's name either during or after the coining spell. Mwa ha ha haaa. (Obligatory "Keep my pretty name outta your mouth" goes here)

Okay, back to Viren's scheming! He took the mirror because it was human-sized in a dragon lair. He knew it didn't really fit there, and that made it interesting, so he stole it. But he realized it was really powerful when Runaan wouldn't tell him squat about it - the assassin's instinct to protect Xadian secrets from human hands meant that Viren was holding a very powerful Xadian secret. And that just made him want it all the more. Ah, Runaan, if only your relationship with lying was, like, the exact opposite of what it is. Nyx could've spun Viren a believable tale in 2 minutes flat.

Also of interest: Viren considers his cursed coins to be a final fate. He expects Runaan to remain in his coin forever. With the Chekhov's coins still extant in the storyline, we can assume that they'll come up again eventually, but Viren has no current plans to do anything with his elf money except carry it around.

It's worth noting that Viren admits that he got impatient when he trapped Runaan in the coin. Runaan's first fate in Katolis was supposed to be death at Soren's hands, but Claudia "saved" him from that. His next fate was to become spell components, but Viren's frustration with his stubbornness "saved" him from that fate, too. So now he's in a coin, where no one can chop him up at all. Yay? No, boo!

We get one last line about Runaan before Viren shifts gears: he makes a point of noting for us that Runaan's shackles are still locked shut. However much of Runaan made it into that coin - body, soul, hair care products - he was magicked there, pulled right out of his restraints.

The creepy black liquid that Viren pours right into his eyes is the last of a powerful potion he got from Kpp'Ar, and its recipe is ancient! Humans used it back in the age of Elarion to see through the illusions of the world. And we get a delightfully creepy bit of description about the preparation of this serum, which makes it abundantly clear that it's a Moon magic-based concoction, harvested from eyeless vipers on a moonless night, with the threat of irrevocable madness ("madness" by whose definition, though) if it's done wrong-

Hang on. Hold up. This is a Plato's Cave reference. OH MY GOD.

No no I'm fine, this is brilliant. Sorry, sorry, I couldn't figure why there was so much description for a potion prep that Viren didn't even have to perform himself. But now I get it. I see the light. HA. I should make a separate post for this, it's amazing.

Anyway, for reference, the humans who used this serum were called the Oracles of Ophidia, and Ophidia is a taxonomy group that includes all modern snakes. Can you say "creepy ancient snake rites"? I can! Woo!

Viren activates the serum with a spell, but apparently he's never done it before. He's not sure if it's supposed to be hot and bubbly, and he worries that it's been tainted by moonlight.

Oh, I do hope so.

The magic potion hurts, a lot. Viren will do just about anything, to himself or anyone, to do what he believes is necessary. He just risked madness and blindness to find out what this mirror does! Viren. Can you just. Take a nap or something. Have a Snickers.

This chapter gives us a fun clue that I don't remember from the show: when Viren's vision clears and he can see, his reflection has white pupils and the room reflected in the mirror has inverted colors. You know where else has inverted colors?

You know who else got white pupils for a hot second?

Okay, now it makes sense! Viren and Lujanne were both seeing into the realm beyond life and death. Him with his moon magic potion, and her with her moon powers on a full moon night at the Moon Nexus. Which is Very Interesting! Is it a direct hint about Aaravos's location, or just a separate cool detail? Orrr, does it look like a direct hint because Aaravos is actually trapped in the world beyond life and death, but it's actually separate and we'll see something about white pupils again later on?

Viren really does have self-esteem issues, we all picked up on it with his rant at his reflection. He throws a fit when he catches himself wondering if he's actually worthless. In the book version of his tantrum, he shoves the mirror and hurls a candelabra instead of flipping a table. He didn't need to shove the mirror to set the fire, but it's in here. Foreshadowing that perhaps, if push comes to shove, Viren will choose himself over Aaravos? Giving Aaravos time to peek through and see that the coast is clear?

Soren, my boyyyyy. He has a rough night at the Moon Nexus because two sides of him are fighting with each other. He struggles to understand Callum's friendship with Rayla, and he also fantasizes about chopping off Rayla's head. One of these is a pretty ordinary thing to do. The other is Soren's internalization of what he needs to do to gain his father's approval. If he brought his dad a chopped off elf head every week, he'd probably feel a lot more confident because Viren would praise him a lot more.

Okay, okay, omg, is it just me, or does the "Moonshadow Madness" story, as it's told in the book, seem like Soren just doesn't know what a monsterfucker is? He thinks an elf bite puts humans under a spell. But vampires are sexy, and some people want them to do more to them than just bite them. A passionate kiss under the moonlight could look very bitey, especially if one of the participants has horns and you're already culturally trained to hate them. No yeah, I'm already headcanoning an actual human-elf kiss that got misunderstood by an observer long ago.

it's Lujanne isn't it, we all know, because what is a love spell but a sweet soft illusion, I mean how else does she get supplies for her Caldera, I ask you, and also Corvus was totally sent to investigate once and he told Soren at camp what he saw

And then back to magefam angst: Soren pretending that his sister's nose-tapping is stupid, even though he actually thinks it's cool, just because their dad thinks it's stupid. Viren, istg. Let your kids like harmless things. It's so cute that Soren taps his nose back at her, though! Like they have their own sibling code. I hope we get to see the nose tap again, especially now that they've chosen different sides. It could mean so much, that they're not too far apart yet.

Rayla knows what buttery pancakes smell like. I love this. Do Moonshadow elves have butter and pancakes, does Rayla eat a stack of eight giant pancakes in the morning? Orrrr it is just illusion food? I don't care, let Rayla have pancakes! Everyone loves pancakes. Pancakes will save the world. this message brought to you by the fact that I can't eat pancakes rn, send help

I love that Rayla is both sus of the pancakes and hungry, and that combines into a very motivated "I will get to the bottom of this" attitude. She kind of goes into Poirot Mode when she inserts herself into Soren and Ellis's conversation about Ava, explaining about the wolf's illusion leg and segueing into her claim that the pancakes taste sus. Claudia confirms she used dark magic, and Rayla is furious. It's different than the show's version in that it puts Rayla in detective mode, as the only Moonshadow elf in the scene, and boy does she take that role seriously. Also, she doesn't actually swallow the dark magic pancake bite. It ends up on the ground just like Lujanne's grubs from that earlier meal. These poor kids are so nutrient-starved. You guys gotta eat!!

Rayla's determination and prejudices and the fact that she super knows Harrow is dead all dovetail to make her try repeatedly to persuade Callum that Soren and Claudia are Not To Be Trusted. It's nice that the book keeps taking the time to point out that Rayla is Well Intentioned But Flawed, just like Callum and pretty much every other character in the show. No one is Right All The Time, no one Knows More Than Everyone Else.

Callum loving the sound of Claudia's unique voice is so wholesome. When you like someone, it only makes sense that you like all the things about them that they can't change - like the sound of Claudia's voice. Her choices with dark magic, not so much!

Claudia seems to have the same concerns Soren does about Callum's relationship with Rayla, but she comes out and asks him. The inherent possession implied in "your elf" is interesting, though. Elves are not people to Claudia. They're enemies who can be disassembled for the magic inside them. So maybe more like robots than living beings, if she knew what a robot was. Maybe she heard Soren's "Moonshadow Madness" story and realized he totally missed the kissing implications - but she didn't, and now she's genuinely worried that Rayla could kiss Callum under a full moon and enchant him to do her will. Good thing it's only a half moon, then!

Okay, Callum nervously making a puppet hand and then not knowing what to do with his hands and freaking out about itching and moving and pointy elbows is such a ND mood. The sudden stress of knowing that someone else is noticing your existence and maybe you're Not Existing Right, amirite? Ugh, poor Callum.

The Moon Temple! Omg it's so pretty in the description! Made to be beautiful and useful, full of knowledge but also allowing light and life inside (butterflies and vines). Lujanne, when can I move in, please? Also, it's all the more angsty because Lujanne is the only one who gets to see this beautiful place, but it has lots of chairs and shelves and tables, and it was meant to be used by lots of people. :(((

Claudia knows some of the runes on the walls. She isn't in a hurry to copy the rest of them down or anything, either. Her spellwriting is very precise, and she's a skilled mage. Her father would have made sure she was aware of the dangers of drawing sloppy runes, as much as he made her aware of the dangers of doing dark magic wrong. And the whole point of dark magic is that it's easier to learn than primal magic. Claudia supports her dad and their shared knowledge and life path. She's not gonna go nuts over an elf library she can't translate.

Side note: Between Claudia knowing some Moon runes and Viren building a secret passageway and a dungeon and lighting it with the same blue crystals that Lujanne and Ethari use for light--and Claudia exclaiming that she loves ruins--I wonder once more if there are really Moonshadow ruins somewhere in Katolis, which Viren has found and looted. Father-daughter relic hunting trip, maybe while Soren is away at camp? Omgsh that would be so wild!

Callum out here having a Viren moment with his "I feel powerless unless I've got magic that lets me help" vibes. God. I love their complicated mirroring. One of the hard differences between them is that Callum is very sure dark magic is bad because you have to kill stuff and take its power to cast spells, and he doesn't want to be a person who kills and takes like that. The line he walks to be nice to Claudia on their tour of the Cursed Caldera because he likes her, while telling her that he doesn't want to do her magic, like, ever, is so fine that it might as well be a shifting shadow on the ground. It's a very fitting conversation to be having during the half moon, with its tricks and little white lies.

Callum being out of the castle and his comfort zone, having to deal with the fact that the Claudia he loves is not quite the Claudia who's chasing him down across the kingdom, but of the two of them, he's the only one with a problem with this.

They say that if you really want to get to know someone, you should spend time with them outside their comfort zone - in heavy traffic, with a small baby, taking care of a new pet, trying a new skill, following unfamiliar directions, etc. While the castle is familiar territory for them both, Callum's never really found his comfort zone yet, while Claudia is pretty comfortable with her growing skill set. The creepy part starts to kick in when Callum begins to realize that Claudia's comfort zone encompasses a whole bunch of stuff that seems like it should make her uncomfortable... but it doesn't. But that'll be for a future chapter!

[ka-writes]

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Notes: haha I did a semi short chapter... sorry... also this is chapter 4 of my space AU..

ALSO READ THE DAMN WARNINGS. Thank you ☺️

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Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 2:

Chapter 3:

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Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Warning: Mentions of abuse (physical verbal and sexual) there aren’t any graphic recalls it is simply mentions. Mentions of being beaten up. Mentions of knives and blood. Threatening characters, and character pain. Again characters being trapped and not going home. Cussing. Characters passing out. Characters being distressed characters being malnourished. Yea I kinda was in an angsty mode sooo.... here you go..

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Ao3 link:

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“Humans are [Add text here]”

Chapter 4: I guess it qualifies as an introduction?

Phil wasn’t expecting to wake up at 4 in the morning to the sound of laughter.

It wouldn’t be the first time, definitely not the last.

Curiously the avian poked his head into his kids’ room. The laughter wasn’t coming from the gardener, guard, or scientist. The laughter was coming from the assistant who wasn’t in their room. Phil turned his attention down the hall. Sure enough the laughter was louder. Quietly he made his way to the holding cell. Phil sat in a smaller hallway and decided to listen into the conversation… What can he say? He always eavesdropped..

“What even is a you-tube?” The assistant asked through small giggles. To that the human gasped as if he was hurt by the statement.

“You don’t have YouTube?! Or like an alien version of it?!” The human replied, not even trying to hide his shock.

“Erm no?”

“Well it’s like this thing that humans use to make really cool videos and stuff.”

“What’s a video?” Ranboo interrupted.

“They’re kinda like moving photos that usually work as a sort of entertainment or info dump. I could probably tell you thousands of the times my stupid teacher made me watch ‘educational’ videos..”

“So they’re kinda like illusions?”

“Yea but you don’t see 'em in 3D. As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted..” The enderian let out a small squeak of embarrassment at that, “YouTube is like a thing people use to post videos on. I am totally making an alien version of YouTube when I get out.” The air stiffened at that.

“Tommy.. you probably won’t get out for a while…” Ranboo said, Phil heard one of them shift and the entire atmosphere lost it’s warmth, “It’s not like you won’t get out! It’s just hard… especially when no one really trusts you yet.” Ranboo swallowed, as he usually does when he is uncomfortable, “Even when we let you out of the holding cell.. you probably won’t be allowed off the ship. It’s too dangerous for all of us..” the two fell into a deafening silence. Phil shivered at the tension, making sure to be silent while doing so.

“I assumed as much…” the human started, being the first to break the silence, “I-I… I guess I won’t be going home either… since the ISF absolutely hates us.. plus like you said, only already crazy humans are sent back..” the human sighed sadly.. For the first time Phil felt sympathetic towards a human. With that he decided it was time to start on breakfast.

——————

Three things happened after Tubbo woke up.

One, Ranboo passed out at the table. Phil simply shook his head and picked up the enderian with some unknown strength to the rest of the crew.

Two, a scream was heard from the other side of the ship, causing Wilbur to frantically run to the holding cell.

Three, Techno put his milk in before he poured his tea… I mean who does that?

Ignoring the last strange thing, Tubbo went to check on Ranboo. He was fine, so Phil said. “He only needs rest. Leave them be.” Was what Tubbo got as he peered into the enderian’s room. Shrugging off the weird behavior Tubbo made his way to the garden.

Before he made his way to the garden he noticed the human wasn’t in the holding cell. That meant he was probably in the lab… Which meant Tubbo would have to meet him.. Oh prime no. That’s not gonna happen.

He started sprinting to the garden. It was just passed the lab if only he took another step-

“Tubbo, I need your help.” Wilbur said from behind him. The droneling turned around reluctantly. Holding his breath he made his way into the medical part of the lab.

[gore and distressed characters, skim if you need to]

There, laying on the bed, was a human. He held back a scream which came out as a labored gasp. Sweat was bubbling on his forehead. With that he turned to Wilbur who examined the human from a distance.

“Go get some bandages and the stitching kit.” Wilbur commanded. Without hesitation Tubbo ran to grab the items. Wilbur took both objects and disinfected a bad cut on the human’s arm. He hadn’t even realized there was a cut until Wilbur cleared off the strange red blood. Wilbur then proceeds to stitch the wound and bandage the irritated wound.

That’s when Tubbo noticed the amount of blood the human lost. Most species wouldn’t be able to handle that much blood loss, but here was the beast of the galaxy, completely fine in a matter of minutes after losing quite a bit of blood.

[End]

When Wilbur was satisfied, he picked the human up and carried him back to the holding cell. Tubbo was unable to stop himself from following. Before thinking the droneling sat at the table and watched as Wilbur finished cleaning the human.

“Er.. do you want me to grab Techno so you can stay in here?” Wilbur asked, noticing Tubbo sitting in the corner.

Without saying a word Tubbo gave a small nod. Wil didn’t push like he usually did and left to get Techno.

Tubbo got up and approached the sleeping human. He was skinnier than what Tubbo thought humans should be. There were odd dark circles under his eyes and his hair clearly hadn’t had a good wash for what looked like months. He had injuries over his body and was practically shaking in his sleep.

Since Tubbo was preoccupied, he barely noticed Techno enter, or the door closing. Let alone the clangs and thuds from other crew mates.

He was preoccupied by the strange human who was sleeping in front of him.

The human stirred and the droneling stumbled away.

After a few seconds the human sat up and looked at the now fallen droneling.

“What the fuck?”

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Tommy didn’t expect another alien to push their luck in his space. But here he was.

The alien was smaller than Tommy by a lot. Further proving Tommy was the biggest man. Unlike the other aliens this one wasn’t threatening upon first glance.

The one from last night had been way more intimidating at first. Being way taller than Tommy and having weird lanky limbs and magical purple glowing orbs surrounding them. They had horns and a half and half complexion. One half of the alien being white with grey and purple freckles along with a red eye. The other half being a purplish black with grey and green freckles along with a green eye. They wore a suit with a red tie and dress shoes. He also had two tails of the same colors as his complexion. All of this being forgotten after they stammered through their introduction. It was honestly hilarious.

This alien was very different from the others. They had brown messy hair, encasing black antennas and small black bumps that resembled horns. Their skin was a honey peach color and practically glistened. There were strange hexagon patterns over their face along with three black stripes on either side of their face. They had bee wings, which was the only thing Tommy could relate to the alien too. There was also a black fuzzy tail, similar to a stinger, poking out of their pants. Their hands were lanky and pointed, completely black. There was also soft yellow fuzz poking out of their sleeves and holes in their pants. They wore ripped jeans along with a long sleeved green button down shirt. Their eyes were another thing entirely, being a honey brown in certain light but could also shift to a greenish blue in other light. They had fly-like pupils.

After a minute of them sitting in an awkward stance the alien got up. Using their wings to properly position them in a standing position. They brushed themselves off and approached Tommy.

“You lay a finger on anyone here and I will kill you. Understand?” The alien said, any intimidation that was lost from the alien falling was regained in an instant. The alien poked him in the chest with one of the lanky fingers, which started burning like acid after a minute.

Since Tommy was too, sacred, poggers to move he simply nodded, which is absolutely the best response to the situation. Sadly the alien didn’t get the gesture and dug their nail into his chest even more. Seriously, it was starting to really burn.

“Y-yes.” Was all Tommy could muster. The alien was satisfied with the answer and let go of Tommy. They walked out of the now open door. Shortly after Techno followed the door closing behind him. Tommy never realized the other alien was in the room.

[Mentions of abuse]

For a split second the interaction reminded him of his dad.

The way his dad did the same thing to his mom when she didn’t listen.

Or when his sister didn’t follow his dad’s friend.

Or when Tommy made a mistake.

Except instead of a nail, it was glass, or a punch, or sometimes a knife…

[End]

He shook off the thoughts and reminded himself that the aliens weren’t his father, nor were they going to do that to him.

They wouldn’t do that right?.. Right?

Tommy slapped his face, only to find there were silent tears flowing down his cheeks. He quickly wiped his cheeks and continued his train of thought.

Tommy trusted too easily. That in the end is how at nine he ended up getting beat up in his first foster home. He condemned himself for trusting the aliens. They were strangers. He knew nothing of them and they knew more about him. This was the moment in which Tommy shut himself off. Where he regained the ability to leave his blind trusting instincts.

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Chapter 4- End

Words: 1633

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Notes: I didn’t know what to add next so I decided to leave you here. Your welcome! <3

Again hope you enjoyed! Now go eat food, drink water, take a shower if you haven’t, and go to sleep. Stay safe, love ya! <3

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Tubbo: *falls out of fear

Tommy: ._. This dude ain’t intimidating

Tubbo: *threatens Tommy

Tommy: ,:^ never mind then...

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Reminder likes are appreciated but reblogs are better!!

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[rohondra]

Firsts || Izuku Midoriya

a/n: this is for another bnharem discord collab!! the prompt was “Pen Pals”. I’m pretty content with how this came out and I’m super excited to write a bit more considering I got a computer!! I’m hoping to do a pt2 hehe. god bless the people in my haikyuu server who swooped in and saved the day every time I had a brain far. 

rating: n*fw 18+

word count: just over 2k

warnings: virgin!Reader, daddy kink yes again ok I have a problem, FaceTime sex, mutual masturbation, big buff Izuku

all characters are aged up when I write and I take no credit for the images I post w said writings unless stated otherwise.

PLEASE CHECK OUT EVERYONES AMAZING FICS FOR THIS COLLAB!!!

A notification from the S.H.I.E.L.D. Field Office Discord server you were a part of popped up on your phone. It was an announcement that they would be randomly selecting pen pals as an event to get people more connected during this pandemic, of course you had the option to opt out, but the idea of doing something so “risky” excited you. You held your breath and reacted with a thumbs up, butterflies instantly flooding your stomach.

Just under an hour later one of the admins sent you a pm;

-Hey! Thanks so much for joining our penpals event. Social distancing is a pain in the ass, but hopefully this will lighten your spirits! We paired you with @/izuku#2485. Xx

Being the nosy son of a bitch you were, you immediately typed his user into the server and checked his activity within it- specifically the “#pictures” channel, but found nothing. Just as you were about to send him a friend request, you got a notification of another pm.. Oddly enough from him;

-Hi, we got paired for the penpal event! It’s okay if you don’t want to send your address to a complete stranger, I get it haha.

The butterflies returned as you pressed the request button, and immediately saw it change from “pending” to “send message”.

~Hi! If I’m honest it’s just my college address lol, nothing too risky.

-College huh? Me too. I was afraid you were going to end up being a minor and then I’d feel kind of weird ha. What school?

~Do not fear, I am in fact legal. Even if it is by 8 months lol. ASU! Yourself?

-Arizona huh? Interesting, I’m actually finishing my senior year at Iowa State.

Your stomach flipped, anxiety coursing through your veins at the last message. Senior?! What if this guy was like, 40?? No, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be living on campus at that age.. But he never specified he was living in a dorm. You closed Discord and moved onto what seemed to be the never ending flood of assignments, two of which were due that night.

A notification popped up on your computer mid essay;

-Don’t wanna be pushy. Here’s my address if you decide to write me.(:

You chewed at your bottom lip, weighing the consequences. It couldn’t be that bad of an idea right? He seemed nice, not pervy at all.. Fuck it.

“Hello! It’s your good old pal from the Marvel server. If I'm honest I'm not that good at these things, haha. This letter will be pretty short, but tell me- who’s your favorite Marvel character? Feel free to gush! I’m looking forward to hearing back from you.

From,

Y/N”

-

Two weeks later your RA slipped the envelope under your door, “MAIL!!!” she yelled before hurrying to the next room to deliver. Your heart fluttered as you opened it, admiring his clean handwriting;

“Hi. Alls good, I’m pretty awkward myself ha. My name is Izuku Midoriya! My friends call me Deku. Y/N is a nice name.

Honestly, it’s kind of cliche but Captain America has to be my favorite. I’m a bit of a Marvel junkie. I’ve seen every movie, have the entire Captain America comic series, own a Marvel Encyclopedia, plus almost every Marvel funko pop they’ve released.. Now that I think of it I’m definitely more than “a bit” obsessed ha. How about you? If it’s easier for you, you could just message me on discord.

-Izuku”

You giggled as you opened the app on your phone.

~Hi! I just got your letter. Seems to me you’re DEFINITELY obsessed lol but that’s okay, me too. I’m obsessed with Captain America. Chris Evans? *cheff kiss*”

-Hey. That’s so funny! I aspire to look like him one day haha. Taking it one day at a time, but this pandemic is making it difficult rip. You wanna add me on snapchat? I probably came off as some creepy perv ha. @/deku_zuku.”

From that point on, you two became OBSESSED with each other. Deku was an extremely gorgeous, freckled man with colored, fluffy green hair. You thought your sleep schedule was already fucked because of the pandemic? Sike, now it really was. You were staying up until 5am snapchatting him, interacting with him on discord, texting him, etc. You just couldn’t get enough of each other.

Your favorite snapchats from him were his post workout selfies. You loved the way his skin glistened, his muscular body littered in scars and freckles. More often than not you screenshot them and definitely got off to them, but you could never tell him that. It was embarassing to think about how most nights you laid in bed pumping a dildo inside of yourself desperately calling his name, imagining it was him fucking your tight virgin pussy.

As you were getting lost in imagining scenarios your phone began ringing, oh fuck he was FaceTimeing you.

You quickly sat up, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and setting your phone against a book for support before answering.

“H-hi! Sorry I wasn’t expecting you to FaceTime me ha.”

Izuku grinned ear to ear, “No I’m sorry! I should’ve asked first, but you look great so I mean.. No complaints from me with how you look.”

Red tinted your cheeks, “A-ah thank you. You’re pretty good looking yourself.”

Izuku’s eyes narrowed, “Did I catch you at uh- a bad time?”

You tilted your head in confusion, “No? I mean I was trying to catch up on some stuff but other than I wasn’t doing anything important.”

“Ha, that looks pretty important. You also look a little flushed.”

When your eyes followed his on your screen your cheeks immediately lit on fire and you shifted to cover the dildo you carelessly left on the parallel night stand.

“So that’s why you’ve been screenshotting my pictures huh? I never would’ve taken Y/n to be such a slut.” he smirked.

He could feel his cock begin weep at the sight, he couldn’t help but palm himself. What if you got off to him? Thinking about how your little moans might sound when they slip out of your mouth made his cock pulse, he wanted to make you moan. He wanted to be the reason you came undone.

You tried to defend yourself, slightly annoyed by the derogatory term he referred to you as, “I- no. It isn’t like th-”

He cut you off, his voice having dropped an octave, “It’s okay baby, tell me what you think about.. I wanna hear what gets you off with those pictures.”

Hands came up to cover your face, you felt like you were going to puke- this was too embarrassing. His screen went to “paused” and you heard shuffling from his end. Within seconds you received a picture of Izuku in the mirror, his large hand barely covering his erect penis and his shirt between his teeth. He chuckled, “How about now princess? What makes that pretty pussy tighten around your toy?”

Slick slipped from your previously abused cunt, he sounded so delicious and looked even more delicious. When you spoke, your voice came out as a squeak, “I-I uh, I can’t tell you! It’s embarrassing.” If you could light on fire, it would’ve already happened. In fact, you wish you could. If you’re lucky the entire dorm might catch ablaze as well so all evidence is ruined.

A deep chuckle echoed from your phone speaker, “Embarrassed? It’s not like you’re a blushing virgin baby.”

There was a pause as you lowered your hands, your nose scrunched from the humility and one eye shut, “.. And if I told you I was?”

Izuku felt his member pulse yet again, precum gliding from his slit. That almost sent him over the edge, there was no way someone as breathtaking as you hadn’t been with anyone. Fuck, he could take your innocence and ruin you for any other man. He could make you his own and have you milking his thick cock every night, screaming his name and begging for more.

A meak sigh pulled him from his fantasies as you spoke up, “Sorry if that makes me less appealing.” He was quick to follow up, “N-no. God no. That,” he sighed,” fuck that’s honestly hot.”

Boldness coursed through him as his hand lazily pumped his shaft, “That just means I can be all your firsts.. Here, give me a minute.”

Your heart sank for a minute when the FaceTime ended, but fluttered once again when another call from him came through. This time though, it was from his laptop. He smirked before rolling back in his computer chair, his cock twitching against his stomach anxious for attention.

Desire burnt within him at the sight of you, eyebrows raised and eyes enlarged with pupils blown while you licked your lips. Izuku couldn’t help as his hand encircled his shaft once again, “What is it you think about baby? Me kissing and licking all over your body? My fingers pumping in and out of you while my tongue plays with your nipple?” He began a generous pace of pumping himself before his next taunt, “Maybe my tongue playing with your clit?”

A soft moan fell from your lips as you nodded, “A-all of that. ‘Zuku c-can I please touch myself?” You gasped as you watched precum flow from his tip at your words. He nodded, “Please do.”

You sat back, lifting your hips just enough to slip your panties off, nervously looking at him. All caution was thrown to the wind when Izuku groaned, “Ah, be a good girl for me baby.”

You made sure your full body was in view before grabbing the toy and lowering it between your thighs, which were now covered in a thin layer of your arousal. Squeezing your eyes shut you opened your legs and gently pushed until the dildo was fully sheathed inside of you.

Opening your eyes you were greeted with the most sinful sight, Izuku Midoriya quickly gliding his hand up and down his cock with his chest heaving, his body sheen with sweat.  You let a high pitched moan, your name resonating slowly from his chest. With every thrust your wrist made, a coil began to form inside your belly, it all seemed so familiar but was far more exhilarating knowing that someone else was watching.

“Just think about when that’ll be my cock splitting you in half. Shit- close your eyes for me, start playing with your clit and imagine it's me.” You nodded in response, unable to form words.

Obeying his command, it felt like electricity struck you when your finger made contact. The coil was now fully formed and threatened to burst with every movement.

“I need to cum, p-please.”

“Yeah? Only if you beg for daddy to let you.” He smirked as he watched your thighs tense for a moment.

“A-ah.. please! Please let me finish. Please d-daddy, need to so bad.”

Izuku felt his orgasm quickly approaching with each shaky word spilling from your beautiful lips, “Yeah baby, you can cum now. Let me see the pretty faces you make.”

SNAP

You were gone, your body lost to the ocean of ecstacy ripping through you as you rode the waves of your release.

He sat forward, studying the way your face contorted and how your cunt sucked the toy in as far as possible. The thought of you milking the absolute hell out of his cock sent him over the edge, head thrown back with spurts of cum covering his beautifully toned chest and stomach.

Eyes twitched trying to focus from the intensity of your orgasm as you came down from euphoria.

As Izuku  began cleaning himself off he spoke up, “So you’ve genuinely never done that kind of stuff before?” You shook your head before sitting up to sling a large t-shirt over your body, “Nope, when I said I was a virgin I mean like V I R G I N.”

He shook his head and chuckled, “Crazy. I have some assignments I need to do, if you want you could keep me company?”

You pulled a pillow under your chin and hugged it.  “I have some work to do too, so I guess that’ll work.” You giggled. He twirled a pen between his fingers before bringing it up to chew on, “And once we call it quits for the evening, how about we check off some more ‘firsts’ for you?”

[enigmawrappedinhypocrisy]

I've recently really gotten into your blog and I love how you write Barley, I'm very interested by the NSFW because I didn't expect this much love for him from the community! I wanted to request something NSFW if it's okay :)! I like the concept between fem reader and Barley ending up doing the deed in his van ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (Could I add that during this deed, Barley is very passionate and thorough as well as -not safe sex- 👀?) Thank you for your time, I look forward to your stories, take care! ❤️

Hey guess who totally didn’t forget about this sitting in my drafts 75% finished for a looooong time?!! Sorry

Okay… the nsfw things really take longer for me to come up with… it’s like… difficult for me to come up with something that doesn’t sound like bullet points or has bad pacing… 

Aand I could not come up with an opener for this… all I kept thinking of was the premise for the other time there was sexy times in Barley’s van… and I couldn’t do that twice… And i’m not sure what you mean by ‘very passionate’ so hopefully this works…

 Fandom: Onward

Pairing: Barley Lightfoot x Fem reader 

Warnings: NSFW! Badly written Smut, Fingering, unsafe sex, some cum talk I guess... kinda upsetting language in the beginning... 

❀✦ Master List✦❀

The day was warm and bright, your parents were having their annual summer party,

You were grateful Barley was there to help balance you, as the people invited tended to be a little… much...

Everything was okay for a while… you were able to avoid any uncomfortable discussions by spending a good amount of time in the kitchen ‘helping’ until your parents insisted you ‘join the fun’. 

It only took a few minutes before the conversation outside shifted to you...

A great aunt commented that, “you’d be pretty if you dropped the weight…” 

A cousin asked when you’re going to get married, and someone responded with something that sounded like “when she gets ‘in trouble’” 

Your mother’s friend told you she thought you should date her son instead of that “troublemaker you were dating”.

And then politics… 

It was very quickly becoming too much… and you needed out. 

-

Barley had been helping your parents and was mostly kept away from the toxicity, until you texted him. 

<Hiding in Guinevere :( > 

It didn’t take long for the back of the van to open revealing a concerned and slightly amused Barley. 

“What happened?” He climbs in, shutting the door behind him. 

You’re lying on the floor in the center of Guinevere. Barley joins you, on his side, facing you. His hand brushes some hair from your face. 

You huff but give him a quick recap of what happened. 

Barley frowns, “Want me to go talk to them? They shouldn’t be saying things like that...”

“No,” you sigh knowing that won't help…  

But then a thought wormed its way into your head. You try to hide the smile that flashes across your face as you reach up and pull Barley down to you. 

He smiles into the kiss, always happy to kiss you… and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t missed being affectionate with you throughout the day. You had both decided earlier to keep the ‘lovey stuff’ to a minimum around your family in order to avoid… well… basically what ended up happening anyway… 

When he was distracted you shifted your position so you were now on top of him. Barley’s hands instinctively move to your hips, “What are you doing?” he smiles up at you.

You return his smile with a smirk, before rocking your hips against his. 

“You know I’m always up for this but your family…” Barley blushes as you tug off your shirt.

It was if you didn’t care if you got caught… or maybe you wanted to… to show those people… something… your feelings were all jumbled at the moment and you’d decided to just go with them. Barley made you feel safe to share those kinds of feelings with. And you wanted him right now! In his van, on the curb, in front of your house. 

You lean down to nibble on his neck, whispering breathlessly to him that you don’t care, and “let them be miserable while we’re having fun” 

You reach back and quickly remove your bra, tossing it somewhere in the van. 

Barley chuckles, “as long as I get to say ‘told you so’ if we get caught.” 

“Deal” you lean back into a kiss, yelping when Barley retakes control. 

He knows you’re still a little upset by their words, even if you won’t admit it, and Barley was more than happy to take the opportunity to take care of you. 

He spends some time worshiping your body with his hands and mouth, sometimes nuzzling you playfully. He breathes soft words into your rapidly heating skin. Telling you how much he loves you, he wants to let you know how much he adores you, and your body.

Eventually he makes his way down to your waistline. Barley winks up at you playfully before pulling off your pants. He leans down and nips at your hip. 

You giggle and nudge him with your foot. 

He winks again before he works your panties down and off of you. Now you're fully nude in Barley's van… and he's not… You're about to bring it up when he brushes his hand along your slit. 

You glare at him, at his cheeky smile, 'cause he knows just what he’s doing. He knows you want him now, and his teasing is not helping satiate that need.  

The glare works, and Barley quickly continues, moving up your body to kiss you again. His hand continues to teasingly stroke along your folds, now moving with purpose and not just teasing. 

Once he felt you were distracted by the kiss he slips a finger into you, smiling when you moan into his mouth. Before long he adds a second finger,  stretching you, working you the way he knows you like. .

Pulling away slightly, Barley leaves some pecking kisses on your face, "You know I think you're beautiful, right?" He tells you, cheeks flushed. 

You bite your lip looking up at him, a little distracted by his fingers inside you. "You're wonderful," you tell him. 

"No you," Barley smiles, a little heart eyed. Before you could protest or add anything Barley hooks his fingers inside you unexpectedly, drawing out a surprised moan from you. 

He continues his fingering while he leans forward, and begins marking your neck. He wants you to be able to look in the mirror later and know he loves you. You might have said those words didn’t bother you… but Barley wanted to make sure… 

Your hands find their way into his hair, knocking his hat off in your haste, and gripping his hair.  

Brushing his thumb firmly over your clit he quickly brings you to your first orgasm. Your insides twitching around his thick fingers, eyes shut tight. Barley withdraws and allows you as much time as you need to recover. He just enjoys watching you in bliss, a little proud to be the one responsible for it. 

While you’re in your blissful post orgasmic state you find yourself keenly aware of the scents surrounding you. The cinnamon dragon shaped air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. The obvious musk of sex, and then Barley, above all else you can smell him. 

He’d made sure to dress up a little nicer, shave which made you a little sad, and wore the cologne you’d bought him for his birthday last year. The effort he’d put in to make a good impression filled your heart.  

How’d I get so lucky? you muse to yourself, hooking a leg around Barley's hip, drawing him closer to you. 

With a soft chuckle at your eagerness Barley leans forward, his forehead pressed against yours. “Someone’s eager” he teases, while already undoing his pants. 

“If you don't hurry up” you threaten with a hiss, but are unable to keep the smile from your voice while you do it. 

With your legs already wrapped around his waist Barley doesn’t have much room to move as he frees his cock from its fabric confins. He was plenty eager, himself, at this point, earlier reservations forgotten. Cock, standing tall, practically pulsing with anticipation. Barley didn’t know what he’d do If they were to be interrupted at this point, but as your hips buck against him all thoughts vanish the young elf’s mind.

He slips inside you with ease, your warmth already soaked from the earlier orgasm. Barley teases a little at first, starting with shallow thrusts, leaving you to chase after him. Your hips lift and tilt, trying to find the right angle to get him deeper, all the while Barley makes sure to keep just far enough away. The game doesn’t last long, however, as Barley soon finds the teasing too tough to take himself. 

With a hand on your hip he gives a sudden thrust, pulling you to him at the same time, bottoming out inside you with a whine. His face buried in your neck as he tries to keep his noises to a minimum, grinding against you lazily. 

Barley finds himself wondering how this can always feel like the best time… every time… always… but as you clench around him he’s pulled back into the moment. 

Drawing back Barley crashes his lips against yours in a brief heated kiss, before beginning a bruising pace. 

Your hands grip his arms as your head falls back, overwhelmed in pleasure. You’re rapidly approaching your second orgasm as Barley quickly finds and assaults a spot deep within you. A spot he’d long since learned, will cause you to see stars. 

Barley grips your thigh, and wraps an arm around your back, and with little warning he pulls you up and into his lap. From this angle he’s able to thrust up into you while you writhe, and clench above him. He keeps you against him for a bit, staying deep within your warm walls as he focuses on those places inside you again. 

It doesn’t take much more before you clench down on him, both on his cock and his neck, as your orgasm crashes upon you. 

This time Barley doesn’t allow you to come down from it as he takes your hips in a more solid grip, and begins lifting you again. Dragging your spasming cunt along his cock, he’s barely able to keep a rhythm, overwhelmed by chasing his own pleasure at this point. 

Barley repeatedly lets out your name in breathy whimpers. Not that he was really aware he was doing it. All the while you stroke his back, and moan encouragingly in his ear. 

Biting down on your shoulder, Barley holds you tightly to him as his own orgasm finally hits. His whole body shudders, as he cums deep within you.

It only takes a moment for you and Barley to realize the mistake you’d made. 

“Oops” you look up at him, biting your lip. You can already feel some of his cum leaking out of you around his now softening member. 

Once he realizes, however, Barley’s eyes go wide, he quickly begins to apologize. 

With a sympathetic smile you nuzzle into him, assuring him that it was okay, mistakes happen, and you’ll just need to stop at the drug store after the party. 

“Besides, it’s kinda hot” you tell him with a mischievous smirk, “being around those judgmental people, only you and I knowing why my underwear is all wet” 

It seems Barley didn’t know how to react, his ears flushing, a cum drunk smile stretching across his face. He wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed or turned on, but a tone coming from your pants pulled him back to reality once again. 

He watches you pull away from him and scramble to get your phone. His nerves return once he sees your face. You looked like you’d been caught sneaking a cookie. 

“What?” 

“We should go to the store now” you bite your lip holding out the phone so Barley could see the text from your mother. 

<Hope you’re using protection LOL>

“Your mom uses ‘lol’? Barley teases. 

You glare at him over your shoulder, already in the process of redressing. 

“Okay, okay” Barley chuckles, readjusting his pants, and starting the van “but don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Okay that’s all I got…  see you all in another 3 months... Sorry 

[mochikeiji]

Rockabye, My Love

↠ Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

↠ Warning: slight fluff, soft father/daughter moments, angst. Trigger Warning: mentions of death, depression.

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Every lyrics had a deeper meaning in them than just words that'll fit a song. Yours was heavier than anyone could think of, and Akaashi was singing it to his beloved baby girl.

↣ a/n: ohayo world! I'm sorry for late posts, expect the upcoming ones soon. School was giving too much works again. Thank you all for loving my Day 2 fic in Akaashi Week!! Also, the lullaby in this lyrics is the same tune as Isabella's Lullaby from The Promised Neverland.

⇢ Day 3: Single Parent AU

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine.

You are the most precious thing I have loved.

I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more.

I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you.

You are the most beautiful thing that has came.

I will protect you forever, my love."

Life is difficult in many ways. It's either we were born different, have lost someone dear or have lost ourselves. It's no wonder how millions of people from all around the world, evert second, minute, hour— someone gives up on everything. It was cruel, disturbing, most of all heart breaking.

Akaashi never understood your true intentions. He was one hundred percent sure he had kept an eye on you at all cost. He's made you smile brighter, he's understood you more than anyone. He made you feel alive.

Yet now you ended up being dead to your own inner demons.

He remembers coming home after receiving good news from his company. He had received a promotion and a week off just for you. That was when the hospital had contacted him. He can recall his ragged breathing when he was allowed to place a foot in your room. Your monitor beating in an ever agonizingly slow rhythm, he knew it wasn't normal and immediately ran to your side.

He wanted to yell, scream, ask you why, why did you do this to yourself but he couldn't, not when you looked at him so scared and weak. The doctors had told him that he had only a few minutes with his wife, the drugs you've intake was too much, not everything was removed nor pumped out of your system. Akaashi never felt so depressed in all his life after that situation as he buried himself into your chest, listening to your lullabies that soon died down along with the light in your eyes.

That was the only reminisces he's had with you,the lullaby you would sing to yourself as a teen who strived to survive the world, a lullaby for his anxieties and own demons to be tamed, and the last thing you ever said. He was happy that over the years before your death, you had given him a customized music box that had the right notes of your song, only this time no one was singing it.

Fingers tapping anxiously on his work table, Akaashi started to fiddle with his thumb and then his index, losing his focus despite looking at the same drafted page lit up on his computer screen. He kept eyeing the pack of cigarettes that was just on the edge of his window— he needed one right now. Cigarettes were the last options he has for when he couldn't calm his beating heart or let his emotions out. But he knows how wrong it was to be damaging his health, and he knows he's going to get an earful from Bokuto since he visits his apartment every weekend. Even if Akaashi tries to hide his dirty deeds, Bokuto wasn't stupid to read through his eyes like before.

Foot was starting to bounce, his eyebrows were beginning to furrow, as if he was irritated, in trouble, or something. It wss getting harder for him, who wouldn't after losing their wife? The person he's loved since his teen years, the one he's vowed to never make her feel like how she did in the past. He failed you. He blames himself for all that matter, if he's added more precautions, maybe you'd still be here.

He bites his lips and whimpers, hands ruffling through his tossled hair and holding his head as his elbows were supporting him on the table. Everything was closing in once more, the walls to his workspace became suffocating, how he wishes one of his friends or yours would come knocking at his door even though it was already 2:30 am knowing how reckless he's getting. He swore he wasn't going to die sooner as you did. He promised to himself to let you and his memories live on, because once he dies, no one will ever remember the battles you've fought for, the good things you've done to many, and the love you've shared with him throughout the years.

"It's so hard without you, love.."

Eyes finally cracking with tears behind his glasses, he lets them stream down his face with his body shaking on his chair. Soon enough he was bound to get another headache from extreme emotion and will probably lay the whole day about it. But none of that mattered to him anymore.

He just wanted you back.

But his cries weren't the only ones that can be heard in his apartment.

Jolting up to realization, he carelessly wipes away his tears with his sleeves and tumbles our of his chair straight to his room. His heart was beating fast in worry and adrenaline, he thought the source of the crying in his room had been taken away or worse.

But it turns out, it was just his little baby girl crying in lonliness.

As he got closer, her cries were getting deafening, but he didn't mind. Not when his heart was swooning with guilt when he thought of giving up and caving to his own needs when he's forgotten he has a reason to continue on.

With the night lamp on at the side of her crib and his bed, he cooes at the sobbing baby with sweet nothings to catch her attention. Th cries immediately died down and replaced with sniffles and the baby looking up hazily at the dark figure above her.

Smiling, Akaashi carefully picks her up from the crib to cradle her on his chest. Giving her small pats on her back with hush whispers when he feels her stretch on his body.

"Shhh, I'm sorry, were you lonely?"

Grabbing on the string of his lamp shade on the nightstand, he pulls the string, allowing more light to glow in his room, and for his little girl to finally see that she wasn't alone anymore. Akaashi swayed gently as he remained in eye contact with the baby, smiling ever so slightly at the unreadable expression his daughter was possessing and played with her fingers.

"Maybe I should work with you around, you never really like it in the dark, do you, baby?"

His little girl cooes at him, curious of what language he was speaking to her and hopes he understood what she was saying as well. Akaashi's heart swelled at the adorable sound and nuzzled his face softly on her stomach, the baby still confused as ever but just clenches her hands in wonder.

His anxieties and thoughts disappearing in the air whilst he sat down on his bed and held his baby near to where his hesrt was beating. The same day you died, was the same day you had given birth. It was a miracle for the baby to be healthy despite what you had intake. He remembers after your announced death, the nurses had to usher him out, but only to drag him into another room where lies a bassinet and a couple of IV's attached and treatments.

When he got closer, his world was shaken that day. The sight of you and his baby alive and now existing after 9 months of waiting was there right before his eyes. But his heart broke at the thought of him being the only one to raise her, and her not having to meet her beloved mother. He was so emotional that day that he almost lost it when he realizes why she was kept in there and why there were so much stuff in this room. He didn't want to think thag he was losing another one when he had just met her.

The nurses explained that there was nothing wrong with the baby, just taking further check ups and to ensure she was absolutely healthy. He was already been forced outside your room that no longer held light, he wasn't going to leave the room where his daughter was until he holds her in his arms where he knows she'll be at the safest.

As time went by to now, Akaashi feared her growing up in the future. She resembled mostly to you. She was a dead carbon copy of you and he was terrified she'd experience what you have as history might repeat itself. The very thought of his daughter having something inside her little head without telling him scares him, Akaashi knew how cruel the world can be and hoe each second in life matters because we are unaware of the deaths happening at those time.

He prayed his baby girl wouldn't go through what you did as a child and carry it until she grows up. He hopes and believed in his own strength that he wasn't going to fail her this time— that there will be no person by her side and will lovd and protect her other than her daddy.

His tears blocking his vision of her as he held her tightly. He whimpers at remembering his thoughts earlier. He wanted to curse himself from thinking of leaving his daughter to fend for herself in this world and to find a way to be back to you. But he knows he was still with you, your daughter was the last love you could ever give him and he was going to love her more than anything.

The trembling of his body stops when his baby started to cry and squirm in his hold. Her whimpers breaking his heart when he couldn't solve her distress, it seemed like she was in pain and he knew this situation like in the past.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. I'm always here. I'm sorry."

Reciting out the same line he's used when he held you against his body that night. You cried and held a hand to your heart that day as he hugged you tighter. The demons inside you he had curse to go away and leave you alone. But they didn't.

An idea popped in his head and reached out inside his nightstand drawer. The little music box you have crafted for him still looked the same as it was before since it was taken with good care. He proceeded to wind it gently to let the soft tune play as he stood up once more to cradle his crying baby.

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine."

He sings the first verse of the long memorized lullaby you sang for him. Using his thumb to wipe away the little tears that had escaped his daughters eyes. Her cries were stopped momentarily and were replaced by sniffles. Her dazed eyes making eye contact with her father's.

"You are the most precious thing I have loved."

Akaashi would be cringing thinking his voice was terrible, but the little girl in his arms seemed to be intrigued and loving the harmonized voice of her daddy and an unknown tune from the background.

His voice was smooth and soft. Completely out of character from his monotone one, but enough to capture the attention of someone.

"I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more."

He couldn't tell if he was singing the lullaby to her or he was making a silent vow to her. The lullaby you sang to him for the first time he tried searching for in the internet what the lyrics meant and who wrote it. Sadly, there were no results that came up that day.

And you never really told him how you got that song and who it was referring to in the lyrics.

But nevertheless, the lyrics could never be at the right time as it was now. It felt like he was reminding himself of what his role was from now on and what his daughter should always remember as she grows up.

No one was going to hurt her on her watch.

"I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you."

At the end of that line his voice cracks as he held back his own tears. He can hear only now your voice and hoe you would thread his hair during nights of distress. How he missed so many cracks of your voice from being too intrigued with the song. How he missed the fact that you needed him the most those nights of terror, yet you chose to make him feel secure and loved without leaving anything for yourself.

Slowly, his mind was connecting all the lyrics and your actions in his head. You were a self reliant person.

You sang this song in reminder that you were loved, beautiful and was protected by the few people that truly loved you. This song was meant to keep you alive.

To keep him going.

And now

It was a vow from him to his daughter.

"You are the most beautiful thing that has came."

Smiling sadly down to his baby now calmed down and listening intently to her daddy, Akaashi leans down to press kisses on her face with his tears sliding down.

He should've sang this to you when you needed it the most. A reminder of what you truly were to him. He hopes deep inside, somewhere up there or in his room you were listening. Listening to him remind you and his daughter— his world and universe, that he was going to be stronger and fulfill his own promises.

One day he was going to meet you in another life he believed, where he'd make you stay, where you and him will raise your little girl once again and he'll wake up next to you. Where he'll be the one singing this lullaby tune as he hold you both in his arms.

But for now, it was just going to be him and his baby girl.

"I will, protect you. Forever, my love."

[bobsie]

First kiss

Summary: of all your 21 years you've been lonely of love but you never thought it will change just from an encounter of a stranger

Hey i am sorry for not posting much lately i haven't been feeling well and I have tons of ideas but zero motivation to write them so I am sorry if this turned bad

Romance was everywhere, whenever you looked there are always a couple showing love to each other either by holding hands, hugging, kissing it was like the universe was laughing at you

Being 21 and the only one in your group of friends that never experienced love is kind of sad but you never thought about it because you always thought about studying studying and more studying

So while your friends were experiencing first love, first heartbreak, being confessed to, get rejected and all of that you were studying to make sure to not let your family down but that left you with a great lack of love experiences and a university you hate so much

And you started to regret everything when you saw how happy your friends were in their relationships, they have always told you to go easy on yourself and experience live a little but you were so stubborn and now you wished you had listened to them

You put on the final make up touches, your model friend had her birthday party held in a hotel you thought it was too much but it was her agency that held it because they want her to get to meet designers, photographers etc and that made you a little anxious because that means there will be many people that you didn't know and it didn't make you feel comfortable

At the same time you kept thinking that you have to look your best because professional people will be there and they will judge

You put on your most comfortable heels you so you won't suffer for the rest of the night even you knew your feet will still hurt but at least they won't hurt bad

You then took a quick look in the mirror before you started to head out you were meeting your other friends so you can go to where the birthday party was held

As expected it was loud and crowded you had met your friend earlier and told her happy birthday but then you lost sight of her in fact you lost sight of all your friends so you did the only thing you can do stand in a corner and try to finish the drink you had

But your plans were disturbed when you felt a tall figure standing next to you, you looked from the corner of your eyes and cursed under your breath immediately from the handsome man that was standing next to you you felt him turn his head towards you so you immediately looked somewhere else taking  the whole drink in one sip which made you choke

"Are you ok? Do you want a drink?" The handsome man sat his drink down and went immediately to help you

"I am fine" you coughed again "I am fine thank you" it finally stopped so you looked at the starnger's eyes and you felt like the world had stopped his eyes were so charming and so beautiful

After moments you realized you were staring at him and that you even made him blush so you stood up and took a step away from him and you were sure that your face was red because you felt heat all over your face

"What were you doing standing alone?" The mystery man asked

"I could ask you the same thing mister handsome" the man chuckled which made you realize what you said you cursed yourself for that, two drinks in and you started to talk nonsense

"Well my name is Asahi Azumane and well my agency wanted me to come for relationships works and other stuff but honestly i don't like crowded places" Asahi Azumane why does that ring a bell and after hearing his name you now think you met him before "now can you tell me why are you here alone"

"Well I don't like crowded places too and besides I can't find my friends"

Asahi smiled and you two stood there for a moment looking at each other it was kind of awkward you wanted to say something and not leave it like this but you didn't know what exactly to say

"I didn't get your name btw" his smile was sweet, charming and some what comforting

"Oh I am sorry my name is y/n l/n"

"Well y/n can I get you another drink then we can maybe go outside to talk away from the people"

"Sure"

You waited for Asahi outside on the terrace because he insisted to get the drink for you and so you went out first your body had goosebumps from the first blow of cold air that hit you as soon as you stepped out��

"Here is your drink" you smiled at Asahi as he handed you the drink you took a small sip not wanting to get drunk quickly

"So y/n what do you do?"

"I am on my last year on University and you must be a model right?" Asahi chuckled at your said question and moved his hand to his nape

"Actually I am a designer not a model"

"Oh" you started to put pieces together and now you knew it you knew why his name sounded familiar and why you felt you have seen him before

"Oh my god you're the Asahi Azumane, oh my god that's why you were so familiar" you said a little too loud for what you wanted your voice to be grabbing Asahi's attention

"The Asahi Azumane?" Asahi asked confused

"Yeah the ace that played with Karasuno when they finally went to nationals after a long time"

"wait you know me? But I don't remember seeing you at school"

"No unfortunately I didn't go to Karasuno at the same time as you but my brother was a second year and he was a friend with your libero so he took me to your game against Shiratorizawa and that was onw of the best games I have ever seen it made me so attached to volleyball and I even saw all your games in the nationals you all did great"

"I umm thank you" Asahi's cheeks were red you didn't know was it your compliments that caused it or the cold or the fact that he's almost done with his drink

"It feels like forever since that I still wish I can go back and experience this again"

"I wish I can go back and change some things too"

"what would you change if you went back in time?" You let out a deep sigh as you took a long sip from your drink finishing most of it

"I would take it easy maybe join a club, fall in love"

"fall in love?" Asahi turned his body towards you to give you his full attention you turned to face him too feeling a little shy of what you were about to say

"yeah I never experienced love at all no one would be interested in a shy girl who only thought about grades right? And I guess even after highschool no one has shown interest in me you know I am just like these background characters who doesn't have anything go on in their life" the corner of your lips turned into a small smile you looked away from Asahi embarrassed from what just left your mouth looks like the drink took control of you because you could have said it in another way that doesn't make you look this pathetic

"Well I know if we were both in Karasuno at the same time I would be interested in a shy girl who was thinking about her grades" you immediately looked up to meet Asahi's face he had the sweetest smile you have ever seen it made you get a weird feeling in your stomach

"th..thank you Asahi"

"I really mean it y/n" Asahi took another step towards you

"Huh?!" Your eyes locked together his hand slowly moved to hold your chin careful as if he could break you you could feel how sweet he is even from his touches

"Y/n this is probably me getting a little tipsy but do you mind if I was your first kiss" Asahi had kept fair distance between you two but you thought despite that you think he can hear how loud your heart was beating as it was about to break your ribcage and explode

"It's ok" it came out like a whisper but it was enough for Asahi to hear and close the gap between you too in a soft and sweet kiss you his hot breath on you sent shivers down your spine Asahi broke the kiss smiling as he looked at you but this wasn't enough for you, you pulled asahi closer to you and your lips met again in a more passionate kiss this time, this time you both were hungry for each other, hungry for the other's lips your hands ran through his hair while his travelled through your body

It felt like only the two of you were there and it felt like as if it was a fairytale to you

You both broke the kiss heavily breathing for the lack of air in your lungs Asahi rested his forehead against yours, your noses touching and smiles not leaving both your faces

"Would you like to go on a date Asahi?"

"I'd love that y/n"

the first kiss, the butterflies you get when Asahi looks at you, the feeling of love and being wanted everyone told you about falling in love you heard about it many many times but experiencing it with Asahi was different it was better than what you imagined

And you finally got to experience love with the best man you've ever known

[angeltrapz]

hhmmmmvnfj asks abt Lawrence? umm in a selfship way: what’s ur favorite gift he’s gotten u? — in a character analysis way, bcuz I’ve posted a lil abt it n u mentioned it in DMs too: if William had survived, bc Lawrence was handling new disciples at that time (like Brad n Ryan), how do u think Lawrence n William would’ve interacted? (esp bc we know William was at least vaguely aware of who Lawrence was pre-trap bc of their connections to John)

dfhskj thank u!!! finally getting 2 this

okay fr the selfship part: mentioned it a little bit when replying 2 the other ask u sent, but it’s a worry stone made out of rhodonite (which looks a lil like this), bc he knows how interested I am in gems + rocks n stuff like that but also bc he wanted me to have smth to fidget with in case I forgot my lil lanyard of rolling beads when we went somewhere! it’s smth I just run my thumb along bc it’s smooth n soft n fits perfectly in the palm of my hand. a lot of times if I’m in an uncomfortable situation I can’t get out of, having that w me helps a lot bc it’s grounding n it reminds me of him 💞💞

fr the character analysis part: KJSKFS YEAH I love getting 2 talk abt that bc I actually think abt it quite a bit. as u said, William and Lawrence have always been vaguely aware of each other on account of being connected thru their interactions w John, the doctor who he felt wasn’t kind/sympathetic enough n the insurance agent who denied his (EXTREMELY experimental, mind u) foreign treatment request. I’m not sure that they ever interacted face-to-face PRIOR to John’s death, but after William survives his test it’s just kinda like... who else does he have 2 talk to that might be able to understand even the tiniest bit what he went thru? he loves Pamela to pieces, of course he does, she’s his only family - but she didn’t see what he’d had to do, doesn’t rly KNOW like Lawrence would.

but I still think he’d absolutely be Cautious, bc even w the desire to be understood n maybe even have someone he could confide in, William knows now that Lawrence has been helping John for quite some time - as we see in 3D and as u said, Lawrence is the one handling new disciples, something that only John ever did; Amanda didn’t have her own apprentices, n Hoffman sure as hell didn’t either. that, n William doesn’t know how much involvement, if any, Lawrence had w his own test - that’s smth that wld haunt him a lil, I think. it’s hard to be comfortable around a person who is not only directly involved w the person who felt it necessary to put u in a trap, but who Also may have been the one to put fucking explosive bracelets/anklets n tattoos on u + SEWN A KEY inside of u, which is INCREDIBLY violating of his bodily autonomy. that could warrant a whole discussion of its own tbh.

but. Lawrence is the closest John ever got 2 having a TRUE successor (which I have conflicting feelings on; my reading of Lawrence in SAW 2004 was not someone who wld have joined up w someone who caused him so much pain, but fr the sake of exploring this, I think tht after going thru something as horribly traumatizing and irreversibly changing as he did, he sought that life of control n routine that he felt he had prior to his game, and well, John could certainly provide that,,,) n William would likely know this. Amanda’s dead, Logan is off doing who knows what n living his life, Hoffman is only doing it out of a weird sense of obligation?, and Jill isn’t rly a disciple, just some1 who’s been dragged into it too. (I think William n Jill actually would’ve gotten along tbh,, it’s a different thing entirely whether William would WANT to interact w her.)

I think Lawrence wld want to be able to reassure William that he had no hand in what happened to him (I don’t even know if Lawrence is the one who fitted the bracelets/did the key?), but he like. wouldn’t even know where 2 begin bc how can he explain that in a way that William could ever rely on? how could he ever convince William that he truly wasn’t responsible when all the other man wld have 2 do is look at all of th ppl he assisted John in securing/operating on? Hoffman was the one who put William in his trap, but Lawrence doesn’t know he’ll ever b able 2 prove that in a way William can believe. n I don’t think he’d expect William to believe him, not at all, but I think Lawrence at that point truly doesn’t have anyone - he and Alison are divorced and she has Diana, Adam isn’t around obviously, John + Amanda are gone, Hoffman doesn’t know he exists, so who does he have? I think he longs fr that sort of connection, even if it Is forged thru smth as terrible as what they were both individually put thru by John - they have tht common ground of being involved in his diagnosis + the way he responded to them (petty fucking grievances... kramer I will literally knock yr teeth in u fucker) n being ppl he considered partially responsible fr his downfall in a way (Lawrence wasn’t “kind enough,” William said no to a highly expensive and experimental international treatment that they weren’t even sure wld WORK). and like, not necessarily 2 the same extent, but they were both physically altered by what they went thru. Lawrence is missing his foot. William has scars + tattoos that he could get covered up, sure, but the experience isn’t going away. the scar on his side where the key was hidden is never going away. Lawrence’s prosthetic is functioning but the fact that he cut his fucking foot off isn’t going away. n that’s not even TOUCHING the lasting mental effects.

so I think William wld be feeling rly lost. he just doesn’t know what to do. he doesn’t know if he can even go back to the life he led b4 (if he does, it’s not for a very long time) n he has a hard time looking Pamela in the eye bc he feels personally responsible fr her having been there too + bc of what he’d been made to do to so many ppl. he feels alone, much more than he ever has before, n that’s saying smth bc his personal life was already extremely solitary bc he felt it was safer for him + his career. no one could possibly understand what he went thru, bc nobody saw it. nobody saw the way he tried so hard to keep every1 alive, the way he tried to help the people he worked with + CARED FOR even if he had 2 put himself thru pain to do it (holding onto those pulleys until his shoulders were almost DISLOCATED fr Addy n Allen, burning himself w the steam so Debbie could get thru the maze, the entirety of the shotgun carousel). Tara + Brent didn’t see him sacrifice himself fr his coworkers, n neither did Pamela. nobody knows. William wants some1 to connect with, n that just doesn’t seem like a possibility given that what he went thru in there is knowledge that only he himself + Hoffman carry.

but Lawrence knows. he understands n he's the one 2 kinda make that offer, to just be like “u don’t have 2 trust me right now, or even ever, but I understand n if u want some1 2 talk to, I’m here.” bc what does he have to lose? Adam is gone. Alison n Diana are gone. he’s by himself. and so is William, though he has Pamela. they’re both men who went thru smth unspeakably terrible bc a dying man wanted 2 play god n they came out of it much worse off than they ever were b4 John “helped” them. n William is just like. how much worse could it get? after Jigsaw, what could possibly be worse than what he’s already gone thru? so he’s just kind of like, “okay, we can work this out, I can’t say I trust u right now but maybe I can in the future. we can do this together. we can help each other.” n that’s how they end up meeting for coffee or breakfast/lunch/dinner every so often (coffee meets are at least weekly), n it’s just kind of like. the reassurance that some1 has seen the very worst parts of u and are still around. the relief of knowing someone sees u and knows how hard yr fighting to rebuild a life that’s been shattered into a million tiny pieces. n they’re struggling against that current together, and maybe it starts in a place of “I have no one else so I might as well chill w u,” but eventually William and Lawrence kind of fall into this uneasy friendship. they’re there for each other. William calls Lawrence when he has a nightmare that keeps him up fr hours after, shaking n w his heart beating out of his chest bc he doesn’t want to remember. Lawrence spends th night at William’s place every now n then bc he can’t be alone w his thoughts n the phantom pain in his leg just won’t quiet. they meet for coffee. they have breakfast sometimes. Lawrence has clothes n a toothbrush at William’s and vice versa. they’re in this together.

n maybe that escalates into more (which I believe wld only happen after they get 2 a point where they’ve discussed, at length, John’s legacy n who exactly would be continuing it + if anyone WLD be, n after Hoffman is “disposed of” in a sense), but even if not, they both know they Have Someone who looks at them n doesn’t see them as a monster, not the horrible person John thought he needed to “fix.” they both carry scars, both physically n mentally, frm what they went thru. they’re both struggling to get their bearings + Lawrence is still coping w what he’ll need to do after John’s (and eventually, Jill’s) passing. it won’t be easy, but they’re not walking alone. they’re wading thru the mud together, hand in hand, and fr William n Lawrence, that is enough.