#Only people he had there for him as a kid and older | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cometconmain · 1 day ago

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I have someone who comes to groom my dog because I physically can't keep up with it. He's extremely good at his job.

He also thinks Trump isn't all that bad a guy, the Democrats are the anti-human rights party, had no idea the Supreme Court was a thing/is controlled by Republicans and that's why so many human rights are being rolled back in America, refuses to actually use his privilege of having a preferential voting system to not have to vote for the two major shitty parties because he insists on believing nothing good has been done despite numerous proving points to the contrary in his own life let alone others' lives, thinks climate change is a hoax and can't wrap his head around why university studies need to be checked for a donor list and a fossil fuel company supported 'study' isn't reliable actually, hasn't even learned the most basic empathy concept of "you not suffering from a problem other people suffer from doesn't make that problem less important/you should care about people whose lives you don't experience", outright said with his full chest that maybe we should racially segregate the Olympics again actually, and a number of other toxic to downright rancid things I would have just written him off and slammed the door in his face for last year let alone a few years ago.

Don't get me wrong. Talking to him is fucking EXHAUSTING and I feel physically disgusting afterward having to just calmly listen to all these things he spouts which have historically resulted in entire groups of people being targeted for genocide and numerous other human rights abuses when left unchecked and allowed to fester at the societal level.

BUT HE LISTENS WHEN I CHALLENGE HIM.

I can see him actually seeing me as a human being worth listening to. He's older than me and definitely been down way too many right-wing rabbit holes for me to pull him onto the surface any time soon. But I'm giving him things to chew on and hopefully if we're lucky I've planted some seeds which will eventually grow into some semi decent human being plants one day. He's really ignorant and clearly under-educated and that itself isn't his fault and biting his head off isn't remotely going to make up for that gap and is only going to drive him further into the arms of whatever fucked up extremist conservative groups he's been listening to.

He is reachable. He's just also a very long project I only get to work on for an hour at a time every 6 weeks.

And some of the things I've said which I think were part of what got through to him involved showing empathy for him being a single father(? I may have mixed that up with someone else but I think he is) with a disabled kid. He shows empathy for disabled people because he's the father of one (and probably is neurodivergent himself I believe but unsupported and doing his best to give his son the support he didn't get from the sounds of it).

But yeah.

Listen: you don't have to take shit to the face if the person is solely malicious and trying to hurt you. No one is obligated to meet that with kindness and anyone saying otherwise can get fucked. There is a limit to how much bullshit someone can cop while the bullshitter acts like any emotional response to their bullshit is unreasonable/out of nowhere and that is valid on the part of the person copping the crap.

However, if you a) can handle coping long enough to break down those walls with unexpected kindness/it isn't dangerous for you to try that method (VERY IMPORTANT. PAY ATTENTION TO THOSE DETAILS. DON'T TRY THAT ON SOMEONE WHO IS ACTIVELY THREATENING/DANGEROUS TO YOU), or b) can tell it's soft bigotry/general ignorance driving the otherwise yuck things being said, do give the compassion and patient education route a try.

I've had numerous instances of me holding shitty ignorant beliefs I had no idea were actually harmful. The people biting my head off didn't get to me. The people who took the time to see I was just ignorant and under-educated on the matter (and hadn't yet developed the empathy for a group I didn't belong to) taking me aside and patiently dealing with my idiocy long enough to explain things to me in a way that got through my skull (and eventually into my heart as well) were the ones who fundamentally improved me as a person. I still have plenty of things I always have to work on. But I can tell you now I would be much MUCH worse without those patient, kind, educational interventions by people who could tell the difference between malice and ignorance.

The same applies to everyone else.

Human beings are human beings. All of us. Re-humanising each other is the last thing any of the politicians and extremist groups want us to do BECAUSE IT WORKS. IT BREAKS THE WARPED MODEL OF THE WORLD THEY PORTRAY AS REALITY TO DIVIDE US AND KEEP US ALL AT EACH OTHER'S THROATS INSTEAD OF CUTTING OFF THE FOOD SOURCE FOR THEIR WEEDS AT THE ROOT.

When we remind a hurting person that we are a person too, not the bogeyman the extremist groups paint us as, it shakes their warped worldview to the core. It makes them think. It makes them QUESTION. It makes them look at the flower the 'evil' Pride-pin wearer gave them because no one gave them flowers when their mother died and their hate begins to crack at the seams.

The things the world teaches men hurts men too. Teaching them they DON'T have to subscribe to that mentality all the way down to the roots of the patriarchy weed is the best and most effective way of cutting that mentality off at the source. Even if you struggle to empathise with men because you've been hurt; ok, valid. But it is demonstrably more effective, sustainable and long term changing to just get rid of all of it by addressing their pain and showing them how much healthier and happier they can be just in their own life let alone others' lives by casting off the system that hurts them too.

I'm pretty sure I'm just rehashing the same points here, sorry, but the concept of deradicalisation as a healing and long term change tool has been my social justice special interest this year so talking it out helps it solidify in my own head too. (And gives me strength to deal with bullshit because it reminds me it's worth copping what I can personally handle in order to get someone to think, change and grow, one exhausting person at a time).

part of the reason i love how bell hooks talks about masculinity is that she shows real compassion towards men suffering from the effects of toxic masculinity. she was conscious of how we need to unlearn the ways we talk about men + masculinity just as much as we need to unlearn the same for women + femininity. so many times ill see someone talking about toxic masculinity like (hyperbolizing here but only slightly) “these FUCKING STUPID BABY BITCHES won’t MAN UP and go to a therapist!!!” and like. i get the anger. but you see feminists recreating patriarchal manhood by only promoting good behaviors through patriarchal frameworks. any use of the term “real men” is bad because it reifies the idea that manhood is a special title you must earn, and it is something possible to fail and fake. & as important as it is to promote sexual equality + the pleasure of non-cis-men, lots of people are essentially still working with the idea that men need sexual prowess to have worth but just shifting it slightly so there is more emphasis on women’s pleasure. but I want cis men to think about their partners’ pleasure because they care about their partners, not because they need to check a box in order to keep their man card. and don’t get me started on small dick jokes– and the absolutely pitiful excuse people will use that “well, I don’t believe it, but misogynistic men get upset when I say it, so it’s okay!”

basically bell hooks is so fucking right. in order to create loving men we need to love men, simply for being alive, whether or not they are performing. as much as we need to actively unlearn misogyny (and we do), it’s equally vital we unlearn patriarchal ways of seeing manhood. we can’t just assume that taking a feminist perspective automatically means there is no work to be done there.

#not transformers

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rocknrollsalad · 2 days ago

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rating: gen cw: Steve Harrington has bad parents, holiday celebrations, period typical homophobia, show typical trauma tags: it's the 90s y'all, older steddie, established steddie, stancy is mentioned, reclaiming holidays word count: 728

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt "stocking" and the @steddiemas prompt "surprise"

Christmas had never been Steve’s favorite holiday. He was more of a Thanksgiving guy. A big meal, friends and family, and a little bit of football? It was exactly how Steve would describe the perfect day.

Not to mention Thanksgiving was more relaxed than Christmas. There was a certain pressure around Christmas time that Steve swears he’d call one of his earliest memories. Life had moved on a long, long way from trying to eat the lights on the tree but the pressure to be well-behaved and happy was the same.

However, finding his own little community did help some. Not that any of them were any more Christmas people than Steve. Chrissy was the closest, she liked to entertain so any excuse. Nancy and Jonathan had a kid now so they had to celebrate but other than that, they were all fine to let the day come and go. It was an obligation best spent with friends who were suffering the same way.

This year was a little different. For the first time in Steve’s life, he had his own place to celebrate. Not an apartment he and Eddie shared with Robin and Chrissy, not his family home that he was allowed to stay in, this was his. And Eddie’s. Mostly his though.

A modest little home just outside suburbia with a lawn and a two-car garage, Steve loved the place. He’d spent the last nine months fixing all the things that needed repaired and updated which only made him love it more. This was where he was going to spend the rest of his life.

It was that ownership, that security of something for forever, that had him buying a Christmas tree a little early this year. Not out of obligation but because there was a perfect spot in the living room for it. Right in front of the window yet not in the way. It wouldn't take up the only communal space and no one would tell him how to decorate it, so why not?

They gave it a few simple decorations and a new string of lights, Steve wasn’t going crazy here. He still didn’t care about Christmas, but this symbolized so much more. Something that became more and more obvious with each new bit of seasonal decor that found it's way up. What really cinched it was the stockings, though. Something about really said "Christmas" to Steve.

One for him and one for Eddie. Their stockings hung in their home as they would be for the rest of their lives. It probably shouldn’t have made Steve as emotional as it did. He couldn’t stop looking at them. All that they’d fought to be alive, everything they went through, made this feel like a luxury. One Steve couldn’t believe he’d earned.

But he had. There were scars, nightmares, and weekly trips to the therapist to prove it. Whether he’d ever feel like they were safe or that he could fully let his guard down, time would still tell, but Steve was starting to feel worthy of more than just existing.

And there was one more thing this picture-perfect life needed.

It wasn’t exactly possible but times had changed enough that Steve and Eddie could live together and even if it raised a few eyebrows, people kept quiet. It wasn’t enough but it was something. Still, Steve knew. He knew there wasn’t anyone else on this planet for him and the only reason he wasn’t married to Eddie was because it wasn’t legal.

So with a bit of scrambling and all the romantic creativity in his body, Steve bought a ring and wrote a little speech. He sat on both for almost a week without saying anything so that he could pull off the surprise a moment like this was worth.

When Christmas morning rolled around, Steve’s stocking was overflowing with trinkets, candies, and other little goodies but Eddie’s sat looking practically empty. Steve rooted around through his and tried to not watch a very disappointed man dig down to the toe of his monogrammed stocking, chasing the only thing in it.

By the time he’d succeeded, Steve had ditched his candy and was waiting on one knee. This was the last thing he needed to make this the life he’d always dreamt of and maybe the first step in making Christmas something truly magical.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #written for: steddie holiday drabbles 2024 #written for: steddiemas 2024

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clownstillwritesfanfic · 3 days ago

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Wake Up Mr. Sleepyhead - Touya Todoroki x GN!Reader (REUPLOADED)

PLEASE READ: my old blog (clownwritesfanfic) was deleted when my main blog attached to it got terminated for some unknown reason. I can’t get it back so I’m reuploading everything I had saved in my notes app. Sorry for any inconvenience or disappointment, trust me, I’m devastated, but with your help I can get back to my former glory so PLEASE reblog if you like it 🙏😭

Summary: The boy everyone had affectionately called “Mr. Sleepyhead” has finally woken up from his three year coma. You never imagined things would go down hill so quickly.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 6,528

Warnings/Notes: Reader is emotionally fucked, reader has a quirk, Touya and Reader are 16, mostly canon compliant, implied child death, pseudo enemies to lovers

Disclaimer: Reader is kept as ambiguous as possible. This fic is safe for plus size readers and readers of colour. If you find something that contradicts this, please let me know. No use of Y/N.

———————————————————————

It’s been three years since he showed up.

You still remember that day so clearly.

You were thirteen when he arrived. You had been there since the opening of the children’s house. A man approached your parents when your quirk got out of control when you were eight and offered to enroll you in his newly built “school”. It felt more like a daycare than anything else. You learned a few school subjects but there was a lot of quirk training as well.

You were terrified, but persisted. Since you were one of the first, you got to witness other kids joining, and some of them got to leave. No one knew where they went, and Mr. Sunny wouldn’t disclose any information either. He’d always try to change the subject. You learned pretty quickly to let it go and not think too hard about it.

All the new kids always flocked to you. You were one of the few left from the first group, and kids were always so curious, so they always pestered you with questions. Because of this, you became one of the unofficial helpers. Mr. Sunny was the only staff, other than the doctor that would come in every few months for check ups or if someone got injured passed what a simple band-aid could fix. And then of course there was the House Master.

He never showed up in person. He always spoke through a screen. You were probably one of the few people that actually saw a glimpse of him back when he propositioned your parents.

Because you were so popular with the kids, it was easy to help care for them. They all saw you as an older sibling, even calling you as such sometimes. Although, over the years, you got tired. You hated this place. And you slowly started to hate the people in it. You hated how needy some of the kids were. How happy they all seemed to be despite never being allowed to see or talk to their parents. All the intense quirk training and unwanted child rearing wore you out. You slowly started to become a shell of a person. You were able to fake a smile in order to please the kids and throw off any suspicion Mr. Sunny had of you, but deep down, you couldn’t feel emotions anymore. You didn’t care about any of the kids that adored you.

And that included him.

You knew, once he was wheeled in on his bed, comatose, that you were going to have to help out. And you were right.

Mr. Sunny took care of any bathing and dressing issues, and the doctor took care of any medical ones such as replacing his IV and monitoring his healing. But you were in charge of keeping him company whenever you could and shooing away any stray children that snuck in to his room.

You hated it. You thought it was stupid. He’s in a coma, what sort of company would he need?

You mostly sat by his bed, staring at him. Waiting for some kind of movement so you could do anything else but this. But the only movement you saw was his chest slowly rising and falling and the only thing you could hear was the beeping of his heart monitor.

He looked awful when he first showed up. He had reconstructive surgery on his jaw, and third degree burns all over. They did manage to have someone with a healing quirk try and speed up the recovery, but they could only do so much. You weren’t gonna lie…you didn’t want to be near him at first. Because of his burnt, dead, skin he smelled awful. He needed to be bathed regularly but that could only do so much.

As he healed, and fresh new skin came in on some parts of his body and face, he started to look (and smell) better. You watched his healing process from start to finish. Talking to him sometimes as there was nothing else to do and sitting in silence can only get you so far with out wanting to rip your hair out.

You talked about anything and everything. The weather, the other kids, training, any trouble you had with the little school work they actually provided, how curious the kids were about him, etc. Over time, you started to enjoy the time you had with him, even if he never responded.

It was nice to get away from the rest of the “family”. Plus, it was an excuse to get away after a particularly hard session of training. Everyone here had powerful quirks. A lot of them had bodies that couldn’t adapt to their quirk. That was supposedly the purpose of this place. To help people cope with it all.

Luckily, you weren’t one of those people, your quirk didn’t effect your body much. Over use would exhaust you but it wasn’t as bad as some of the other kids. And definitely no where near as bad as this kid.

It was a normal day at the school when he woke up. You were watching over some of the older kids while Mr. Sunny took the younger kids for nap time. Most of them were doing some kind of arts and craft or playing, others opted to catch up on some school work.

You were helping a girl with her writing when you heard one of the new kids shout.

“Oh, the sleepyhead’s awake!”

You didn’t pay attention to what she was saying, more so the volume at which she spoke.

“Keep it down. You know the young ones are sleeping.” You scolded not looking up from the paper the girl was working on.

“Mr. Sunny!” A different girl yelled. “The sleepyhead’s awake!”

“Oi!” You shouted at her, still not noticing what everyone was yelling about. “He’s busy. Sit down and be quiet.”

“Where…am I?” A deeper and raspy male voice spoke. Now, that got your attention.

Your head snapped up towards the door where the voice came from and stared directly at an all too familiar face. Holy shit…he’s awake. His eyes are so…blue. You don’t think you’ve ever seen eyes that blue before. Seeing him awake and standing was weird.

You were released from your thoughts when the new girl spoke to him.

“This is our home! You slept for…let’s see…three years! You slept for three whole years! I just arrived, so I don’t know much, but that’s what Mr. Sunny said.” She explained. He looked shocked and upset at the news.

You stood up abruptly, your chair squeaking loudly on the floor. “Caroline! You can’t just spring something like that on him! You’re just confusing and scaring him.” You reprimanded as you walked over to the two.

“Ah…I-I’m sorry…I just…” Caroline tried to explain herself.

“Go sit down. I’ll handle this.” You sighed.

“But shouldn’t we tell Mr. Sun-“ another voice spoke up from the back of the room but didn’t get to finish when you interrupted them.

“NO! Don’t say anything to him yet. I’m handling this.”

You grabbed the white haired boy by the wrist, he was breathing heavily at this point and seemed to have zoned out.

“Come with me, quickly.” You dragged him out of the room and down the hallway. This seemed to snap him out of his trance as he tried pulling against you.

“W-wait! Hold on, what-“ he started before you shushed him.

You opened a closet door full of cleaning supplies and shoved him inside as he kept protesting. You shushed him every time. You slid into the closet next to him and shut the door.

“What the hell is going on?!” He practically yelled at this point.

“Shut up!” You whisper yelled at him and grabbed his shoulders. There wasn’t much room in the small closet but this was your best shot at being hidden for a while.

“Listen, I don’t know much about you myself, I don’t even know your name. All I know is that one day, three years ago you were found covered head to toe in third degree burns and had a missing jaw. You went through surgery to fix what they could and for three years you’ve been in a coma here. I don’t know why you specifically are here, it must be something to do with your quirk, because this is a place for kids with powerful quirks that they can’t control so they can get help. This is all I know, the grown ups don’t tell us much. I’m sorry…” you quickly explained, keeping your voice down.

“I…” He tried to process everything. “A coma? Surgery?!”

“Shhh! Not so loud. I know you’re freaked out right now and confused and I wish I could tell you more but I genuinely do not know anything else, but if it makes you feel any better…you weren’t alone. I was tasked to sit by your side basically since you arrived here.” You tried your best to calm him down.

“Really?” He still sounded like a child and you supposed he still was one, mentally he’s still 13 and everything must be so terrifying to learn. You don’t really know why you were trying to comfort him. You don’t like him anymore than the other kids. And you didn’t like them at all. You pitied him, you guessed.

“Yeah…I talked to you almost every day. Look, you’re safe here. As long as you follow the rules and don’t cause too much trouble you’ll do fine.” You sighed.

“No, I…I have to go home.” You felt despair at his words. You knew he was never going home. No one that came here ever went home…not if he could help it.

You were about to explain that to him when the door to the closet opened, blinding you both with the shitty fluorescent lights from the hallway.

“Ah, there you two are. Now, sunny, I know you’re excited that your friend is awake now, but you know why kids aren’t allowed alone together. I’ll take it from here. Please join the others in the activity room.” Mr. Sunny smiled down at you two.

You blushed furiously at the implications of his words and ripped your hands away from the boys shoulders and crossed your arms.

“You know damn well that’s not what was happening.” You muttered as you stomped past him.

“Language, sunny!” Mr. Sunny sing songed.

———————————————————————

It was night time now, all the younger kids were fast asleep, having been put to bed an hour ago, and the older kids were winding down for the night and getting ready for their bed time.

You however, were lingering outside Mr. Sunny’s office. The door was wide open…so it wasn’t like you were eavesdropping, but you were staying out of sight.

You felt like something was wrong. Like something bad was about to happen. Touya, you learned his name was at dinner, seemed adamant that he was going home. You just wanted to be there when the news was broken to him. You’d gotten used to being the therapist all the kids come running to.

“I have to get home!” You heard him plead.

“You can’t do that, sunny!” And there it was….the ball has dropped.

“Why not?” Touya argued.

“You’ll be living here with everyone else now, sunny! This is your new family! I’m sure it’ll feel like home soon!” God, you hated that fucking flower freak. You were told the same thing and you know how much it stings to hear that.

“Wait a minute! I have to get home! My dad…He probably just had work and couldn’t come. I’m sure he’s worried! I did…and said…some terrible things. I need to apologize to Mom and the others…I need Dad to see what I can do.” You could hear the pain in his voice, and yet…he still sounded like a child.

“I’m gonna be a he-“ He got cut off.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that can happen anymore.” You flinched at the voice. It’s him.

“Your burned up body was extremely hard to repair. The missing parts were filled in with regenerative tissue. Your face makes you look like someone different, but even so, you survived.” The voice cracked through the speakers.

“What are you saying? I don’t understand…someone different?” Touya whimpered.

“You can’t use your power like you did before. There was damage to your organs. Your senses, including your sense of pain, has been dulled. Your body is weakened. It will never go back to how it was before.” Damn….you didn’t know it was that bad. You felt pity for the boy.

“We would have liked to receive you in full health, too.” He continued. You could hear Touya’s shaky breathing. “We did our best, but unfortunately, we failed.”

You could hear him trying to hold back his tears. You peeked your head in and saw him bent over, clutching his face.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? You poor thing. But WE might be able to make your flames go back to normal! How about it? Will you try joining our family and learning together with us?” You wanted to punch that asshole. He ruined countless children’s lives. He ruined YOUR life. Who knows how many more of these places he has running.

“Shut up.” Touya spoke. You could hear the anger boiling in his voice. “I don’t want to learn from anyone else. The only one who can teach me is…” he threw the keyboard at the computer screen “my dad!”

“Don’t do that, sunny!” Mr. Sunny intervened, grabbing his shoulder that stupid smile on his face.

“Be quiet!” He yelled as he fought back, activating his quirk. You could feel the heat form the doorway. “Shut up!”

Suddenly, the whole room was ablaze. Touya turned and stopped when he saw you standing there. You stared back at him blankly. He huffed and ran past you down the hallway. You knew you could stop the fire. You knew it would’ve been the right thing to do. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care, this was your one and only chance at freedom. So you ran after him.

You caught up to him when he tried pushing open a locked door. You grabbed his wrist again and started pulling him towards the front enterance.

You both ran out the front doors as the entire building was quickly engulfed in flames. You let go of his wrist and let him lead the way. You could’ve gone your own way, but you followed him anyway. It’s not like you were dying to go home. As far as you’re concerned, you lost any family you had when your parents gave you up.

You stayed next to him as he slowed down. Soon, he was trudging along, both of you now in the middle of the city. The streets were lit by restaurant lights and the hanging street lights.

“I have…to go home.” He spoke more so to himself. You weren’t even sure he knew you were next to him. Your hands were shoved in your pockets as you looked around. You remember him saying he lived in Musutafu. That was the next city over. Not too far that it was impossible, but it would take a few hours to get there on foot.

He finally snapped out of his trance about an hour in. Most stores and restaurants were starting to close now, leaving only izakaya’s and yatai open. You passed a few with drunk patrons sat around on stools loudly chatting and laughing with each other.

You were surprised you hadn’t seen a single hero yet. In a city like this, you’d think there would be a bunch crawling around. Especially at night. At least you two were being left alone.

“Why are you following me?” He spoke up. He sounded tired. Ironic, considering he slept for three whole years.

“So you don’t die. Besides….I didn’t have anywhere else to go so I wanted to see this home you kept whining about.” You answered with a shrug.

He huffed and it was back to silence for a few minutes. He seemed to be deep in thought again as you two walked the streets.

“I killed that guy didn’t I?” He suddenly spoke up again.

“Probably shouldn’t say something like that out loud. But yeah, most likely. Bastard kinda deserved it though.” You replied.

“The whole place caught fire…oh god I probably killed everyone else…” He started to freak out.

“Nah…probably not everyone. Some of those kids have quirks that could be useful in a fire. They probably saved a bunch of the others. You probably only killed a few of them.” You realized that wasn’t a very helpful thing to say but it was too late.

“Why are you so nonchalant about this?!” He yelled, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. You were now both stopped on the sidewalk as he hyperventilated.

You sighed and scratched the back of your neck. “Touya…I never gave a shit about anyone in the damn place. I was never attached to them. Everyone there annoyed me. I wanted to be left alone, but the kids liked me so goddamn much that I was put in charge of them against my will when that freak was busy. They became attached to me while I felt absolutely nothing for them. They were never my family, no matter how hard that idea was pushed. I was given up by my parents because they were terrified of my quirk. I lost all sense of a family when I walked through those doors for the first time. I don’t care if they lived or died. I’m just glad that place is burnt to the ground and I’m out of there. So if anything, I should be thanking you.”

Touya was shocked at your lack of care. He started to notice how dull your eyes were, how tired you looked. Now he was the one that started to pity you.

He let go of your shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck. He sighed and turned to continue walking. You followed a pace behind him silently.

——————————————————————

Hours later, it was the next day. It was dark and cloudy even though it was around noon.

Touya had come to a stop in front of a rather large traditional looking estate. You stood beside him as he stared at the huge double doors that lead to the front yard.

“Jesus…no wonder you were so desperate to get home. If my home was as nice as this I’d have burned the place down myself years ago.” You joked.

“I told you…I’m a Todoroki.” He looked at you confused.

“Am I suppose to know what that means?” You lifted an eyebrow at him.

“My father is Endeavour? Number two hero in all of Japan?” He looked bewildered.

“Ah, right…not gonna lie…I thought you were lying about that.” You laughed.

He sighed, exasperated as he looked back at the doors and took a deep breath before swallowing.

He slowly pushed open one of the doors and walked through as you stood by and watched the boy you had been next to for the last three years.

He turned to you when he realized you were still stood outside the property.

“Are you coming?” He asked.

You flinched. “Do you…want me to?” You replied, confused. You thought this would be the end of the ride for you, you’d finally be alone after this.

He nodded. “I’m sure my parents will be able to help you. They would probably let you stay for as long as you want, or help you find a place to stay if you’d prefer that.”

You felt a blush ride to your cheeks. No one ever gave a shit about you like that. You didn’t know how to feel as you felt your heartbeat speed up.

You tsked and glared at the ground as you walked through. “Whatever.” You mumbled.

He smiled softly and closed the door behind you then made his way to the entrance of the house, you following behind him, hands shoved deep in your pockets.

He opened the door and let you in first.

“Mom? Dad? I’m home! I’m sorry for worrying you all but I’m back and I’m okay!” He called into the eerily quiet house. He stepped up from the genkan not bothering to put on any slippers that were near the door. You noticed that there was only two pairs at the front. You remembered him saying he had three siblings and both his parents lived with each other. But if only two people were out…why did no one answer?

You followed behind him as you looked around the spacious and very traditional house. You wished you lived in a house like this.

That’s when you both heard a childlike scream followed by an older male voice cursing and yelling commands.

Touya took off down the hall where the noises came from and you followed close behind. As you got closer you could smell smoke and wood burning and you could feel the intense heat.

He stopped at an open sliding door and stared in. You couldn’t see in from where you were standing, but you could see the flames covering the inside of that room.

Touya was stiff as he stood there, his hands clenched into tight fists. You could see tears falling down his face. Whatever he was seeing…it obviously effected him quite negatively. He silently took off down the hall as he wiped at his face with his sleeve and you stepped forward, the floor underneath your feet still warm from where he stood. You looked in and saw a young boy, probably around eight, hunched over on the floor. Perfectly split red and white hair covered his face. That must be Shoto. Touya told you about how much he resented him as a kid. The huge man standing over Shoto, holding a piece of wood must be Endeavour. Looking at him now…he doesn’t look like a hero.

You slowly went off in the direction Touya went, careful not to make too much noise. You came across an open door and looked in. There stood Touya in a nearly empty room. The most prominent thing in the room was a huge wooden shrine, intricately decorated, that he stood in front of, his hands held up in front of him in prayer. He stared blankly down at a picture frame sat in the middle of the shrine.

You debated walking in or leaving him in peace. You thought it safer to join him incase his dad left the room and saw you. You slowly and silently slid the door closed behind you and stood next to him. You looked at the picture he was staring at and noticed a younger white haired boy in a school outfit. That must’ve been him before the accident. You couldn’t help but think he looked a little cute.

You sighed and matched his pose. Bringing your hands up in front of your face in prayer. You didn’t know why, but it felt like the right thing to do.

You both left not long after that, climbing out a window in order to not be seen. You let him lead the way, going wherever he felt like.

It was an hour or so by the time you both came across an abandoned building. It looked like an office of some kind, it was also clearly the victim of a villain attack of some kind. You doubt normal robbers would attack an office and make this much mess.

Touya came to a stop in front of some fallen junk and sat down. He hunched over with his arms resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. You both stayed silent until you heard his stomach groan quite loudly. You chuckled breathily.

“I’ll go get some food. I saw a convenience store a block away. I’ll be back soon.” You spoke softly, not wanting to break the silence too harshly.

———————————————————————

When you got back you noticed he was laying down, an arm laid over his eyes.

“M’ back” you muttered, not sure if he was awake or not. You placed the two plastic bags full of food and drinks onto the nearby table. You noticed a laptop with a charger attached, the cable running off the table and onto the floor where it was plugged into an extension cord that was attached to the wall. He must’ve found it while you were out.

You heard shuffling and looked over at him as he slowly sat up. He was looking down but you could see the tear stains on his face and his bloodshot eyes. You didn’t comment on it.

He slowly shuffled over to you and looked through one of the bags. “How did you get this much stuff?” He asked.

“Stole an old ladies wallet and took the cash before she noticed.” You answered, pulling out a warm steamed sweet potato and handed it to him. You didn’t know what he liked but it was a popular choice so you guessed he wouldn’t mind. You also pulled out a water and handed it to him.

He took both items from you and went to sit down. He pushed down the paper wrapper and took a bite of the sweet potato.

“That’s pretty illegal ya know.” He said with his mouth full.

“So is burning down a school full of kids.” You retorted, a little annoyed due to being hungry. You pulled out a pork bun and bit into it.

He scoffed and you both sat in silence as you ate.

You finished the last of your bun and took a sip of your own water. You sighed. You felt bad for snapping at him, now realizing he was just teasing you.

“Touya-“ you started before being cut off.

“That’s not my name…not anymore.” He said dejectedly.

“Oh…” Now you know what he was really doing at his shrine. Touya is dead…now all that remains is the shell of a boy. “What…uh…What do you want to be called now then?” You moved over to him and sat down next to him.

“I don’t know.” He sighed, crumpling up the wrapper and chucking it across the room.

“Well…whenever you figure it out, lemme know. I wanna be the first one to call you that.” You placed a hand on his shoulder.

He looked at you and smiled softly, a light blush across his face.

——————————————————————

You woke up to the sound of typing and soft cursing.

You stretched your whole body, groaning at the feeling of your vertebrae snapping into place.

Your new friend looked over his shoulder at you. “Sorry.” He cringed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He looked back at the screen.

“Hmm…it’s fine. What time is it?” You yawned as you slowly stood up. Your body stiff from the pile of semi comfortable debris you piled together last night. You lifted your shirt and scratched your side.

“7:26am” he responded after glancing at the tiny clock in the corner of the screen.

You hummed as you walked over to the table and looked through the bags. There was a single small bag of chips left. You weren’t able to get much filling food yesterday and you both ate through everything else, him especially. You knew teenage boys ate like they were starving but damn was he hungry. Although you gave him some slack considering his body was forced to survive off the bare minimum to keep him alive for three fucking years.

You opened the chips and ate one anyway. You were regretting not buying toothbrushes and toothpaste but whatever.

“What are you doing?” You asked as you shoved another chip in your mouth. You tilted the bag towards him in a silent offer.

He took one and answered as he chewed. Normally you’d find that gross but you can’t be bothered to care right now. “Trying to connect to the internet but the connection is shit.”

“Trying to look at baby name sites to find your new name?” You teased.

He glared at you out of the corner of his eye, making you chuckle.

“How long have you been awake?” You ate a few more chips before leaving the rest for him.

“About an hour.” He mumbled as he tried connecting to the internet again.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna go get some more food. Hopeful something better than just snack food.” You said as you stretched your arms over your head.

“Uh…” He said as he looked up at you, his gaze going to your stomach that showed from your shirt riding up.

“Hm?” You fixed your shirt, not noticing he was staring.

“Your hair…” He trailed off looking at your hair all tussled from sleep. He thought it looked…cute.

You tsked and ran your fingers through your hair trying to fix it. “Better?”

He gave a thumbs up and looked back at the screen.

“Get cup noodles.” He said more like a demand.

“How the fuck are we going to eat noodles?” You questioned.

He lifted his hand and activated his quirk, small orange and red flames dancing on his palm, all with out looking up.

“Ah…right…” You forgot he could do that.

“Don’t steal money from an old lady again!” He called after you, teasingly.

You simply flipped him off as you left, not looking at him.

When you returned, more bags than last time with more than just food this time you saw him still looking at that damn laptop watching something.

You could hear the yelling and brutal sounds coming from the device. You set the bags down on the table.

“What are you watching?” You rounded the table to his side to look. There you could see videos of Endeavour fighting off villains, his flames taking up a majority of the screen.

“Oh…why are you watching that? I would assume he’s the last person you’d want to see right now.” You walked back over to the bags and shuffled through them.

“I’m studying his moves. He never saw what I could do, so I’m going to show him I’m better than his precious favourite. That I can be just as powerful as him.” He growled as he stood back and set his arm on fire.

“Ah. Well you can do that later. Eat first.” You muttered. You pulled out two cup noodles like he requested. You had more for later too.

“Steal more money from an old lady?” He smirked as he grabbed one of the cups.

“No.” You mocked. “…it was a salary man.” You smirked. That got him to let out a loud laugh and shake his head.

You opened your cup noodle and dumped the powder packet in then grabbed one of the water bottles you bought and opened it, pouring some water up to the fill line then handed the bottle to the white haired boy to do the same.

He grabbed yours first and held it with both hands wrapped around it. “Sure you won’t burn the whole thing?” You teased.

“Shut up. I’ve done this before.” He hissed as he concentrated on getting the temperature right. You watched in awe as steam started to steadily rise from the cup.

He put yours down and you placed your wooden disposable chopsticks down on the lid to keep the steam in.

“It’s not boiling but it’s hot enough. You just have to wait a little longer.” He explained as he did the same to his cup.

“Fine by me. I’m just glad to have a hot meal.”

When you both finished your noodles you both had some broth left over. Which made you ask him, “Do you think you can cook eggs with your quirk?”

“What?” He looked at you, puzzled. “I mean…I dunno…I never really tried but…probably. Why?”

You stood up and walked back over to the table and fished around in one of the bags and pulled out a small container of two eggs and walked back over to him and sat back down.

“There’s this hack I learned where you can make a sort of egg soufflé with the remaining broth from cup noodles so you don’t have to dump it out.” You explained as you took an egg out and cracked it into your cup. “You’re supposed to microwave it but we obviously don’t have that option right now.” You whisked the egg up into the broth with your chopsticks.

You traded your cup for his and watched as he repeated the same thing he did to cook the noodles. You could both see the egg starting to cook along the sides and you both exclaimed in joy.

“This way we can get more protein.” You cracked and whisked the remaining egg into his cup.

It took longer but he managed to cook the egg enough to your liking so you switched back and he started on his cup. You had to let yours sit for a while to cool down so you both made small talk.

When you were both finally finished eating, your friend wanted to practice his quirk so you sat near by and watched.

He punched his fist out and orange flames burst around his hand and up his arm. He lift his hand and you watched as the golden flames changed into beautiful blue waves of heat.

“Woah…” you gasped. It made him smirk.

“Cool, huh?” He gloated cockily.

“I’ve never seen anyone have blue flames before. Does it hurt?” You questioned.

“Not as much as before. That guy said my sense of pain has been nullified and I can definitely tell.” He responded as he looked at his arm.

You scoffed at the mention of that asshole.

He turned off his quirk and looked at you. “Who was he by the way? Why did he only speak through a computer?”

“Fuck if I know. He was always communicating through that thing. Never bothered to show up even though he owned and created the damn place.” You seethed. “He was called the House Master. You couldn’t call him anything else, I swear it had to be some kind of ego boost or fetish.”

“He never showed his face?” He asked.

“No. Not while I was there…but I did get a glimpse of him once when he approached my parents about boarding me there.” You picked at your nails.

“You said that it was a place for kids with powerful quirks…what is your quirk? It must be insane if you were asked to be one of the first students.” He realized he never actually asked what your quirk is before.

You stood up and walked towards him and stood a few feet away. You gestured for him to activate his quirk.

He lifted his arm as orange flames burst through once again. You lifted your hand towards his flames and soon they reached towards your hand away from him. You moved your hand around and made the flames dance around in the air. You brought your hand behind you and the flames followed, jumping to your other hand behind your back and following in front, bringing them in front of your face and letting it sizzle out leaving little sparks, revealing his shocked face.

“Woah.” He was in awe.

“It’s called Elemental Manipulation. I can manipulate and maneuver any element I want. There are limitations though. I can use it on any element found on the periodic table, meaning it’s basically unstoppable considering everything in the universe is made up of something. However, I can’t use it on living being like plants, animals or people, and I can only manipulate something if I understand it’s elemental makeup. Water for example is two hydrogen and an oxygen. So I can pull hydrogen and oxygen from the air and combine them to make water, but it takes a lot of energy and time. Fire is a little trickier though since it’s primarily oxygen. I actually can’t create the elements myself, meaning I can’t produce fire like you, cause while oxygen helps fire spread, you still need a heat source and fuel to really start it. It’s easier for me to just move already existing elements than create it. But you can see how dangerous it can be if worked on enough.” You explained.

“Wow…that’s…really awesome.”

You shrugged.

You spent the next few hours watching him train, giving him suggestions every once in a while and making him take breaks if he looked like he was over exerting himself.

The day went by quickly and soon you both found yourself laying next to each other in silence, sometimes chatting about something the other thought of, but you were both content just laying there.

“I think I found a good name.” He broke the silence.

“Oh yeah?” You answered. You were laid on your back, hands folded together and your eyes closed.

“What about Dabi?” He asked, slightly looking for your approval.

You opened your eyes and stared at the dilapidated ceiling. “Dabi…” you tried it out. You smiled and looked over at him. “I like it. Sounds cool and mysterious.”

He smiled back at you.

———————————————————————

For the following years you stayed by his side. You both met Giran and he took you both in for a while. You helped staple his peeling skin and scolded him every time you noticed his scars spreading. You helped dye his hair black. You even helped give him his nose piercings, and you were there when he joined the League of Villains, consequently, joining yourself.

You grew yourself, too. You got better at using your quirk, still not to its full potential, but much easier to handle than when you were younger. You helped fight for Shigaraki’s cause, although you would always keep your entire loyalty to Dabi.

You both found comfort in each other, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. That’s why you agreed to help him when he asked you for a specific favour.

“You ready?” You asked as you stood over the shirtless man, sat on the couch. You softly cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your thumb.

“I’ve been waiting for this for years. Of course I’m ready.” He grabbed your hand and brushed his lips on the back of it as he made eye contact with you. His eyes still as blue as the day you first saw them.

You smiled and went over to the video camera that was pointed towards him. He sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees, fingers pressed together in front of his face.

“Go.” You whispered.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He looked into the camera through his fingers.

“My name…is Touya Todoroki.”

#mha x reader #mha #bnha x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #touya todoroki #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader

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cyberdollface · 21 hours ago

Text

╔══ ❀•° Daisy Chains °•❀ ══╗

Summary: You seduce your dad's best friend, the hound of the underground.

fem!reader x Vander.

Warnings: smut with a little tiny bit of plot; size kink; sexual frustration; sexual tension; masturbation; fantasizing; teasing; slightly bratty reader that torments Vander.

word count: 4.457.

Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

Your dad asked you to take the order for the newest deal inside the store, as it was too heavy for Ekko, his new adopted kid, to gather from the spot you were on to the middle of the alleys 3 feet below.

Your dad’s best friend was there too. The big, mighty Vander was busy saving a small salesman from a beating and making the dealer pay the money. It was cute how caring he could be to the nation of Zaun—his people. It made you want him more.

You were a teenager, barely 16 years old, when everyone followed him, marching to the other side of the bridge, and taking the first seat when it all came down. Now, you were standing in the same place as they did, but 10 years later.

You admired the old man, the best guy around Benzo. You even missed him while doing business away from home in the Noxus Empire, but you couldn't deny it. He looked even better now with his softer belly and pepper and salt hair.

You felt his gaze before you could see it. He had been looking at you since you got back to town. You pretended that you didn't see his longing eyes on you every time you went to the Last Drop with your friends in your short, pretty dresses, or whenever you hung out with Vi and the kids, teaching them to climb their way up to Piltover.

He always got himself together, though. One who wasn't chasing his behaviors wouldn't have noticed, but you did. You loved his attention; how couldn't you? Being desired wasn't new to you, but it being him made it different. All that authority and aura made you feel a little bit cogent. You couldn't help it; it was going to your head.

His eyes following you when you walked away for the day or even fixed your voluminous hair couldn't go unnoticed for you. Even around your poor, unaware father… Benzo could not even suspect it. His own friend gawking at his older daughter, full family gatherings passing around more rapidly with your new game of catching his attention.

Vander approached you, cutting off your thoughts:

“Where are you going with all that heavy stuff?”

It wasn't late, the sky had just got dark.

“I'm going to drop this off at the shop” You smiled at him. “I wouldn't mind some help, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows, contorting his face into a slight grin.

“Can’t deny helping a lady, right?” His posture straightened when he heard your giggles as if he was more sure of himself now.

You kept walking steady, even though one step of his equaled two of your own, he was ensuring that you were walking at the same pace. You guys even managed to make small talk now and then, cutting through the crowd.

“You’re going to the market tomorrow? Heard there's gonna be some good stuff there.”

He said to you while minding his steps.

“Of course, I'm going, Van. Wanna buy some more skirts and dresses, you know? Quite like this one I'm wearing” You smiled again.

“It looks cute on me, doesn't it?” You posed for him the best way you could with the small box in your arms. Of course, he grabbed the bigger one to carry.

His eyes went momentarily darker as he stared at you. It lasted only for a few seconds before Vander averted his eyes. A trash can now looked really interesting at that moment.

“Yeah, it looks… good on you.”

You were having too much fun.

As you two neared the back of the shop, you thanked him, soon enough you would be putting the boxes away in the stock and closing its locks.

“You know what else I want to buy at the store?” He leaned in closer to you to hear you better.

“A new nail polish. It's green, kinda yellowish” You hold your hand in front of you, passing one finger atop a nail as to illustrate the act of painting them.

“Hmm, quite close to this color” you approached him, lightly touching the buttons of his shirt.

He stopped breathing, swallowing thickly while looking at your hand on him. He cleared his throat.

“I better get going, you know… open up the bar.” You couldn't help but laugh a little, looking up at him through your browns.

You had his full attention, Vander was radiating heat, and you could almost taste his want for you, for something.

“You wanna fuck me, right?” You ask him while playing with the buttons on his shirt. You couldn't help but notice how big he was, standing at least 40 centimeters taller, his frame twice your size even though you weren't exactly a small girl.

His left hand goes to your waist, playing with the bow tied to your red dress. You lift your eyes to hold his gaze, raising an eyebrow.

"You know I would do anything, for it – for you. But we can't, you know it right? We shouldn't – I shouldn't"

It was working—hell, yeah, it was working. It made you feel powerful, how much of a reaction you could get from a man like Vander, especially when you knew he wasn't so easily charmed.

"Well, that's a real bummer, huh? I need someone like you...—" You made a show of tightening your arms together, showing more of your cleavage to his hungry eyes. "... Ya know, I've been thinking 'bout it, daydreaming, but it's never enough. Can't ever fill me deep enough with my fingers, it doesn't matter how hard I imagine it's your hand instead of my own."

You pout at him, grabbing his fingers from his right hand just feeling how wide and long they are, not stopping your mind from wondering how they would feel inside. Could you even accommodate more than one? Hell, you would die to know. You let out a hot breath and realized that the hand you were holding was trembling. Did you just make the hound of the underground shake?

You grab him, making him press you more against the wall, one of his legs between your tights. The slit in your long dress gets higher and higher the more you flex your thigh.

Vander let his head lay low on the wall, his nose right in the curls of your hair. It smells good, he thinks, it's always good. He took a deep breath, no more fighting the hard-on he was growing.

"Think about you too, princess... Too fucking often" He pinches your waist then drags his hand lower and lower, reaching the skin of your thigh revealed by the slip in your dress.

You reach between your bodies and put your hand on top of his to ground him, making him grab the fat of your thigh harder. It made you gasp a little, eyes closed but you didn't need then to know he lifted his head to peek at your reaction. Fuck your face was pretty... Dark skin shone with the low lamplight of the street you were in.

The frenzy you two were in reached its end as you heard a loud crack on the streets, followed by voices.

It was like his mind returned to earth, his hands were more sure of themselves, Vander cleared his throat, getting off your hold and adjusting your dress.

As he distanced himself, you couldn't help but finally look at the obvious bulge in his pants. It was promising and Vander could feel the wet spot he made in his trousers with his precum.

You knew that he was close to breaking. You would eventually get what you wanted; you always did.

You watched as he fixed himself, trying to hide the taint but failing, his cheeks pink.

He tried looking at you over the wall, the disappointing expression on your features, damn you were pouting again. The sight made him throb in his pants so he looked away.

"I should go, fuck, should've never come with you in the first place–" he passed a hand through his hair, which was falling in his face and sighted "– Good night, I guess."

You will eventually get what you want, you told yourself. You always did.

Vander avoided you for some days, never letting his eyes lay on you for too long, making conversation short. He could see that he was getting on your dark side by denying you attention.

He couldn't help it, he already had a good imagination by just flirting, your little escapade with him only served to feed into his fantasy.

In the late nights, he found himself palming his trousers, mind drifting to you. Vander wished he would have kissed you that night, smudging that pretty shiny lip gloss off your lips. He grunted slowly, he hated that he had to do that again, beating one off to his friend’s daughter. Fuck he was disgusting, but the kids were sleeping, he had time for this at the very least. Vander never thought he was being so obvious, but honestly, how could he help it? When you went to his bar on Friday nights you always wore the thinnest mini skirts ever, fuck that black one was his favorite, hanging low on your hips, your soft tummy lightly poking out… The memory made him throb.

Suddenly his pants were too tight, he needed some relief, needed you. Sitting upright in his bed, he pulled his sweatpants down below his balls, just enough to free his cock. He let his imagination hang free, thinking about how easy it would've been to just bend you on one of the tables, making you feel him, how you made him feel.

He spat on his hand, leading it to his dick, smearing it up and down. You would have offered your body to him, he knew that now. Fuck, what type of panties would you wear? One time he got a peek, white and frilly with some lace, really cute. Vander loved your thighs, he knew it would feel amazing between his hands, around his cock. His hands were working faster on his length, he was panting a little, biting his cheek to remind himself not to make too much noise, that the last thing he needed was some of his kids waking up.

You always smelled so good too, sweet, it was sweet. In his fantasy you giggled at him that way he found endearing, looking back at him and arching your soft body so the skirt would flip over your butt.

He was getting close, fuck his balls were aching so much, he needed that release.

You nodded at him, as to say ‘Go ahead, Van’ wiggling your bottom to encourage him, he didn't need to be rushed twice, he touched your ass, countering the fabric of the frills, when he got to the bottom he found the spot wet, it was so easy to imagine himself pulling the cloth aside and filling you up. You looked tiny under him. God, he tried his fingers around his fat tip in the upstroke to mimic the tightness of your hole, letting out a grunt. It was all he needed to cum in his hands, cursing your name under his breath. Fuck, he was disgusting.

God, he prayed Benzo would forgive him. Vander can never let this fantasy of his come to life if he gets all worked up with just a few stolen glances and some dirty talk… Imagine what actually fucking you would do to him?

“We are closed.”

You said when you heard the door from Benzo’s open thinking it was just a regular customer. To your surprise, it was Vander, and by his stunned face, you could see that he wasn't expecting to see you behind the counter.

He stood there awkwardly, sucking his teeth and gazing at his feet with a pack of papers in his hands.

“I thought Benzo was working today, I’ll… I’ll come back another time.”

You rolled your eyes at him and said:

“My dad will come back at night. You should look for him around 8 pm, Van.”

You said while returning to paint your nails on the counter. He recognized the color, it was that green nail polish you had talked about that night. You had indeed bought new dresses in the market, he had memorized your everyday clothes by now. That dress you were wearing right now was pretty, the pinkish color looked good on you.

He was already turning his back to leave when you dared to speak again:

“You have nothing to say, Vander?”

He sighed. You have always been stubborn since you were a teenager. He turned around irritated, his brows furrowed ready to scold you.

“I’m sorry about that, okay? Shouldn't have never gone that far.” His eyes were sharp as he was exasperated for just having to talk about that.

It made you even angrier. That day you played with yourself all night because that stupid man didn't want— no he didn't dare to finish the job. He left you hot and wanting in that damn alleyway.

“Now you say you didn't mean it? Hells Vander, now I am offended!”

You finished painting your nails and got off the bench, pouting as you made your way to the center of the store.

“We both know damn well what you did when you got home that night… You've been rubbing one off thinking about me for quite some time now.” Now you were standing in front of him, trying to look mean, pointing at his chest with your manicured nails.

“Too bad you're too much of a pussy to do something with the real thing.”

You waited for his reaction with a smug look on your features. Did you want attention? You would get attention.

He took a sharp breath and looked down at you. Vander was getting tired of this game of cat and mouse, if there was a proper time to solve the issue, it was now.

He sighed loudly before saying:

“Stop this shit, you know damn well we can't do this.” His voice was low, holding a bite to the words.

It was a warning, he freed his hands from the paper and held your arm down. It made you smile, he was so much stronger than you, and you wondered what he could use that strength for.

He saw the grin on your lips and he tightened his grasp on you, face twitching into something dangerous. You pressed against him, closing the distance even more, not running from him.

You flexed your fingers in the air, your hand in an odd position with the way he was gripping you. It was like the world disappeared around you two, you wanted to kiss him, make him lose it, so you got on your tiptoes, your face closer to Vanders now, being able to feel his breath on your face.

“Not asking you to marry me, ya know? Just asking to be fucked…” You sneaked your other hand up to his side, grabbing the fabric of his shirt near his hips tight with your fingers. Oh, you hoped you didn't ruin your nails with all this playing.

He leaned down on impulse, only realizing his movement when you two kissed. Vander pressed you more against him, if it was even possible to get closer, now one hand was still gripping your arm as the other went to your waist. The hound tasted addicting, like mint and cigars. You moaned slightly in his mouth.

“Thought you could do this for me… Been wanting this for so long ” You said, making a trail of kisses from the corner of his mouth down his bearded jaw as his right hand kneaded your skin, feeling up your body.

“Know you want it too, old man. So why not just do it?”

You said with your lips grazing his. Vander couldn't escape your affection, you had him wrapped around your daisy chains.

He brought you forcefully around the counter, getting you easily on top of it.

He kissed you with purpose, as to compensate for how long he took to do it, even though he was still apprehensive to touch you.

You let your hands wander from around his neck to his big shoulders, down his muscled arms, finally reaching his hands and leading them around your bum.

Vander groaned, breaking your kiss away, and gathered your skirt past your hips, revealing your lower body. He broke the kiss away to take in the sight, his body between your legs with you on the counter.

He could see your soaked panties from this angle. Damn, he was losing it. He gazed at your covered pussy intently, tracing his fingers to the outline carefully making you gasp.

He had grown a chub in his pants and it throbbed badly. He wanted to see it bare — needed to. You noticed him staring, dropping the weight of your body on your elbows behind you and chuckling at his reaction.

“You can take it off, Van.”

He eyed you, hating the expression on your pretty face, so full of yourself for what you accomplished. He wasn't himself now, he wanted to see it, your cunt felt chubby against his fingers, your wetness sticking to his skin.

He tried to still his hands while taking your underwear off, but failed. He noticed that you had seen it and yanked your bottom forward into him, kissing you to cancel his annoyance. You pushed him closer to you, making him bench a little as you left his tongue to dominate yours.

Vander was so affected by the act that he started to grind his bulge against your folds, hands groping all your body with his big calloused hands.

You got out the kiss, letting lose a little moan against his ears, which turned him on even more, hells, you had him cursing under his breath.

“Fuck me, please!” You whimpered under your breath. Vander opened his eyes he didn't notice were closed to look at you, your pouting face and doe eyes. It was wrong. The whole situation was fucking wrong, he can’t fuck you in the damn shop, in your dad’s counter, what the hell was he doing.

“You don't need to put it in, Van!”

You wiggled your hips to try to get more friction from the rough material of his jeans that confined his borderline painful erection. Your bare pussy leaving dots of slickness on the fabric, he realized he said that out loud when you answered.

“Just rubbing is fine!” You whined closing your eyes when it grazed your clit just good.

“Take it off, please? Please!” You begged.

He grabbed your hips firmly, Vander couldn't help but gaze at your pussy again. "Stop the fuss, princess– fuck" He panted into the air.

You opened your legs wider, "Van, if you just use it to jerk off it's fine, right?" You used your hand to open the inner lips wider to his hungry eyes.

"I-if you just don't put it inside it's going to be fine, just rub your cock right here"

You gathered slick in your fingers and ran them up and down your folds, which made you hiss, grabbing your bottom lip with your teeth.

You were giving him a headache, but when he returned to himself he was already taking his hard cock out of his trousers with trembling hands. You pushed him closer with your legs and put your hands on his member for the first time, your fist not quite closing from the thickness. It was feverish hot and so heavy it wouldn't even stand, instead, hang low right next to your center.

You stroked him to the top lightly, pushing it into your pussy, so he could feel your entrance. Vander let out a trembling sigh when you started to guide his cock up and down your folds, coating him in your essence.

His eyes closed when you started to moan for him, he was bumping your clit continuously with that big head of his cock. It was a shade darker than his skin and so fucking big... You know you were the one to propose to him to just use your cunt to jerk off, but you wanted to feel it inside, stretching you.

"Fuck, fuck, you're so..." he opened his eyes to see you shyly smiling at him.

"Is it good for you too, Van?" You meowed when you felt him take hold of his member, lightly shoving your hand off. He applied more pressure on it, so it was rubbing harder against you. You were so fucking wet and hot against him, he could barely speak, instead, he let his mouth open panting slightly.

His other hand found itself holding your right thigh open from behind your knee, sure it would leave bruises.

"Wanna feel it inside, please?" You moaned, your hands reaching the neckline of your clothes, pulling them down to reveal your chest to him. You knew what you were doing to him, turning his brain to mush.

"Can't do it, you know I can't" he grunted closing his eyes not to look at you in fear, he knew once he saw your pouting face he would listen to your every word.

You got that quickly, lifting one hand to his face, pulling him atop of you so you could give him a smooch on his lips and moan into his mouth as his tip grazed just right against your folds. His hands are now caging you, arms successfully holding his weight so as not to crush you.

"Open your eyes, want to see you" He tried to say no, but you caressed his face in such a loving way... He'll be damned, you will be his downfall for sure.

When he stood comfortable still kind of hovering over you, he opened his eyes, and what a sight was you, sparred all over Benzo’s counter, opened wide for him with your tits spilling from your dress, one of your hands guiding his dick down your slit to your entrance. Fuck, Vander could feel you spasm around nothing trying to pull him inside.

"Just the tip, Van."

You sighed, giving him your best puppy eyes as your right hand on his face caressed his jaw, your thumb firing his mouth agape, gathering his spit and bringing your fingers to one of your nipples, pinching lightly.

"Wanna feel the stretch…” You moaned for him. “Don’t you wanna feel me too?”

His hips jerked upwards, his eyes wide as his gorgeous tip stretched your opening. Your toes curled and Vander tensed on top of you, holding himself back from pushing all his length inside.

"Fucking hell, you're so, f-fuck" his eyebrows were scrunched. You couldn't help but smile drunkenly, haha, the big scary Vander was at a loss of words over you, because of you.

The thought made you clench, his hands flying to your hips as to make you still. All Vander wanted was to empale you on his dick, make that sly smile on your face disappear and give space to a scream.

You put your hands between your bodies again, he was more relaxed and that was the perfect time for you to guide his head slowly in and out of your cunt, tightening your fist around him a little.

He was all grunts as he manhandled you alone, taking your hands off him and putting it to his heart, that you realized later that was racing. Vander's eyes were moving intently between your cute face and your cunt glistened in slick.

You brought your other hand to your mouth gathering spit and dragging it over your soft belly into your hooded clit.

Vander was losing rhythm, "Gonna cum, ahh"

He was panting like a dog, trying to pull himself out of your grasp, but you used your legs to cage him.

"Please, let me out, princess, can't do it like that."

He was falling apart, too pussydrunk to do anything about it. His tip still going in and out of you in shallow thrusts.

You said: "No, no! You gotta do it in me, inside! Wanna feel your cum filling me up.”

You were stubborn, grinning between meows and moans, it made him irritated, you were always the brat, fuck now he was angry.

He shoved his whole cock inside you and gave you what you wanted, cumming deep inside with a grunt as your nails dragged across his arms.

You whimpered while he took his time being milked by you, as he worked your clit at a fast pace.

You finally came on his cock doing a final clench that made him shudder.

He got down to earth eventually, removing himself from inside you, and admiring the mess he made of you. You giggled shyly, waking him up from his stupor. Suddenly his brows furrowed, he remembered he was mad now, at himself for being fooled, at you for charming him.

He stopped his seed from spilling on the counter, which was already a mess with your slick, pushing his thumb slowly inside.

"Happy now?! You got what you wanted, just know it won't happen again."

He was putting himself back in his pants with a scow on his face.

"Let's see how you manage, old man.”

Your legs were trembling when you tried to stand to gather your underwear. He had to support you with one hand, then helped you fix your dress.

He got away from you, trying to find the bottle of water Benzo got at the shop, filling a cup and giving it to you.

He gathered his documents long forgotten on a side table, getting ready to leave.

"Oh Van, no goodnight kiss?" You approached him slowly, damn he could see his cum running down your plush thighs.

"Maybe if you play it nice I’ll let you fuck me again, this time properly."

He passed one hand through his hair while closing his eyes.

"That ain't gonna happen, I already told you"

Was he scolding you right now?

"Then I gotta have to look for another man to do the job."

He gave you a look, his eyes dark. Tormenting him was always so much fun! He turned his back to you.

"I should probably go, before... Before someone sees me"

Vander felt so upset, but when he closed his eyes he saw you, your body under him, the thought making him bulge again.

He knew damn well it was going to be another time, honestly, he could not wait for it.

Wrote this with my pussy btw. It was clapping in morse code, all I had to do was type it down.

Happy Christmas, guys!

The cute divider is from: @strangergraphics-archive

#vander smut #arcane smut #vander x reader #vander x you #vander imagine #vander fanfic #vander #the hound #arcane dilfs #arcane fanfic #arcane imagine #arcane #vander bitches RISE

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your-unfriendlyghost · 2 days ago

Note

Stares at you and very politely requests for some transfem soda headcanons

Oh hell yeah I’d love to

(tw for mentions of period-typical transphobia)

Transfem Soda h/cs

-She keeps the name Sodapop.

-She worries sometimes that Mom and Dad would be disappointed in her, to which Pony or Darry will remind her that “Mom and Dad always said they wanted a girl, they’d be proud.”

-She loves to dress all feminine and whatever, but on a day to day basis she dresses more or less like she always has.

-Tulsa is big enough that outside of their neighborhood/school, most people don’t know her as she was before. So on dates, Steve likes to take her to the other side of town, away from all the people who know her as “Soda the boy”. She loves it, it’s so freeing to have folks see her as herself.

-Speaking of Steve- he’d just finally accepted that he was gay when Soda started experimenting w/ gender stuff. (Turns out he wasn’t gay, he was bi and so in love with Soda that he couldn’t like anyone else, girl or guy.) But it definitely sends him spiraling into another crisis for a bit- he’s supposed to be gay, why’s the thought of Soda as a chick so hot?!

-Steve’s real supportive tho. Back when Soda was just calling it “crossdressing” he’d buy her things to experiment with- yk, like dresses, heels, makeup, etc. Part of that was selfish since Steve was sorta (very) into it, but it mainly stemmed from an earnest hope that Soda would feel more like herself

-That “crossdressing” phase lasted a few months, so when she eventually did come out to him as a girl, he wasn’t completely surprised. He’s who she came out to first, and it means a lot to him that she trusts him so much.

-Coming out to Darry and Pony tho is…harder. She knows they’ll always love her, but she feels like they’ll see her differently.

-She tells Darry on accident. She’d just come home from work, feeling shitty because someone called her “such a nice young man”. She was tearing up about it, which made her feel worse, and then Darry showed up, home from work early. He got her to explain what happened, and the interaction went like this:

“Wait…so you don’t want folks to call you nice??”

“...I don’t want them to call me a man…”

Darry hugged her and said “Soda…you got somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

And it was all over from there. She just spilled.

-When Ponyboy gets home, he’s surprised, a little weirded out, but mostly glad Soda’s happy. Neither him or Darry really get it at first, but they know she’s happy so they’re happy. Over time though, they understand more and more, till they understand her as well as she understands herself.

-Coming out to the gang is straightforward enough. Two-Bit started to make an iffy comment as a joke, but Steve threatened him till he shut up. Two-Bit’s supportive though- the way he sees it, the world always needs more hot chicks. Johnny goes to her for advice about girls, which he knows makes her feel validated. And Dally pretty much immediately starts flirting with her, partially out of his instinctual need to harass women and partially because it riles Steve up and Dally likes riling Steve up. Two-Bit flirts with her too- she’s hot, blond, and it pisses Steve off, so yeah, win-win.

-Darry worries about her sometimes. He does the protective older brother bit only half-jokingly, and it sort of annoys Soda because Darry was never this worried about her before she came out. She also sort of likes it, because yk, it feels affirming. So she’s got mixed feelings about that.

-Darry threatens to kill Steve if he hurts her. And sure, Darry did that back when stevepop first got together too, but now it feels even more pointed. Steve is a little scared of Darry in a way that he wasn’t before.

-Ponyboy straight up gaslights Curly Shepard, Mark Jennings, and half the kids at school into thinking Soda was always a girl, just a tomboy. “Jesus, you thought I had two brothers? Hell no, I’ve always had a brother and a sister. Soda just looked like a boy as a kid ‘cos she had to wear Darry’s hand-me-downs you fuckin’ idiots.”

-After seeing Ponyboy’s success at that, Two-Bit, Johnny, Dally, and Steve try to do the same with the other hoods. Tim Shepard doesn’t fall for it, but when Dally begrudgingly explains the situation, Tim supports it too. Not because he particularly likes Soda or trans people as a whole- he actually thinks she’s kind of a freak tbh- but because she’s a Curtis. Darry’s his friend, and she’s Darry’s kid sister. Besides, it’s what he’d do if Angela was trans. (this ain’t a great pov to have obviously! But yk, I’m aiming for realism.)

-Steve is saving up money to get Soda HRT. He hasn’t told her, but everytime he gets five bucks from his dad, it goes to the secret estrogen fund. He tells Darry about it, and Darry starts adding a small portion to it monthly too.

-She looks even more like her mom now. Sometimes, Pony will wake up from a nightmare and in his sleepy haze, he’ll momentarily think she is Mrs. Curtis. He’s never told Soda this before and never will. It’d make her feel guilty, and he doesn’t want that,

-It feels lousy living in Tulsa sometimes, where folks often misgender her and bring her down. So when she and Steve get older, they move to a nearby city where everyone who meets her meets her as Sodapop- Steve’s girlfriend, the Curtis sister, a young woman who’s fantastic with cars and even better with horses.

#sodapop curtis #steve randle #the outsiders steve #the outsiders sodapop #sodapop x steve #stevepop #trans sodapop curtis #mtf sodapop curtis #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #transfem #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #the curtis brothers #(and sister lol)#again I don’t always see her as transfem so think of this as an au ig?? but I like it lol #outsiders headcanons

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chimneyz · 2 days ago

Text

Blue Christmas

A sharp blade of sunlight stabbed through the blackout curtains right into Tommy's eyes, it was unbearable enough to wake him from his slumber. In a groggy groan, Tommy shifted his body, facing away from the sunlight, pulling the blankets over his head cocooning himself in darkness once more. A sharp pain drilled into his brain making it throb against his skull. The pressure from it makes it feel as if his brain formed thumbs pressing against the back of his eyes trying their damndest to push them out of his head. A botched lobotomy would have been better than his. The stale taste of last night's alcohol coated his tongue, it was bitter.

Tommy probably had too much to drink last night. It was all just one big blur, that has been happening more frequently... after... after everything. On his nights off Tommy spent his time at his favorite bar, a small little hole in the wall that was never crowded and always playing music from the post-punk genre from the late 70s and 80s. He either spent his time alone moping in the corner or with Sal who would sit there, listen to him and every once in a while offer a friendly pat on the back. Last night he spent it alone. He didn't have to spend it alone, yet he did.

Sal gave him a last minute invite last week to his house for Christmas Eve.

"You should come, Tommy," Sal said to him, patting his back. "Don't spend Christmas Eve here. Claire is making her famous chocolate caramel fudge."

"I'll pop by." Tommy sipped his beer leaning onto the bar counter.

He lied.

He will make it up to Sal and Claire some other time.

With the throbbing pain burrowed into his head, Tommy wondered if he drank more than he usually did. No, he didn’t have to wonder, he knew he did.

Christmas was the one time of year he always hated. Well, that and the Fourth of July. Fuck the Fourth of July.

Hate was an understatement, Tommy loathed Christmas. Despised it with every fiber of his being. He didn't remember a time when he didn't like the holiday. His feelings about it changed and evolved as he got older but he never liked it. As a kid his house became more unbearable, everything had to be perfect, and it never was. Not for his father at least. Somehow it was the one time of year he actually was home most of the time. His father had to show everyone that they weren't in his words: "The white trash family that everyone believes us to be, we will show them... all of them."

Tommy still didn’t know who the ‘them’ even was.

His father's temper became more heated, more violent. Tommy couldn't count how many times he watched his mother lock herself away in the bedroom and weep.

Not only did his house become unbearable, Tommy would watch all the other families on his street be happy. Actually happy. Being happy on Christmas was a foreign concept to Tommy. How the fuck can people be happy on Christmas?

When Tommy joined the army time wasn't an actual concept many hadn’t had the luxury to afford. Tommy never really knew the time. He forgot about the holiday altogether. Tommy could count on one hand what he was thankful for about the army. Not dealing with Christmas was one. The other, it got him out of that fucking house.

Once Tommy was discharged, he moved to LA, he never wanted to see snow again. The beginning of snow signified to him the beginning of the dreaded holiday. The only issue with moving to a place with no snow, people tend to go a little crazy with their lights and decorations. Tommy always figured it was to compensate for the lack of snow. His first Christmas in LA wasn't bad, but it wasn’t good. He was looking forward to being alone for once. He just didn't expect it to be just as overwhelming as spending it at home with his family. The silence was just too loud. After a couple of years, the silence became deafening. Luckily by that time Tommy was already a firefighter, and his schedule was always not what most would consider normal. Tommy actually took the time to work on the holiday to not be fully alone. However, the loneliness still ate at him from the inside.

But this year, this year was going to be different.

"Hey my sister and Chim are throwing a party this year for Christmas, wanna be my date?" Evan smiled at him, it was brighter than the fucking sun.

Tommy looked up at Evan's now boil-free face. Tommy should have known the conversation would happen at some point, Halloween was over and most people already started at least thinking about Christmas the day after. Tommy scooched up closer to his face, his entire body lying on top of Evan. It became his favorite place to sleep, on top of him with Evan's arms wrapped around him, his head lying softly on Evan's chest listening to his heartbeat. He now looked directly into Evan's big blue mesmerizing eyes pondering what to say.

"I-If you don't want to you don't have to - o-or if you have plans already with your family. You haven't said much about them so I wasn't sure if you are still on speaking terms or-"

Tommy moved closer, cradling Evan's face with both of his hands gently kissing his lips. "Yes," Tommy smiled, "I will go with you."

Evan stared at him with awe. He could have sworn he saw fucking starlight in there. Tommy relished in the way Evan looked at him after every single kiss. That starlight never dulled, not even once.

"Ok, good." Evan rested his head against this pillow smitten, holding on to Tommy a little tighter.

"Also last I checked you called me your boyfriend, don't you think it's a bit middle school to ask for me to be your date for your sister's Christmas party?" Tommy teased, his mouth morphing into a smirk.

Evan playfully swats at Tommy, his body shaking from a giggle he was trying to hide.

Tommy rested his head back on Evan's heart. Maybe this year will be different.

Tommy clutched his pillow close, freezing under the mountain of blankets, the lack of Evan's heartbeat ached Tommy’s chest. His head was still pounding away relentlessly. Not that it mattered, he was alone. He wondered if he deserved the pain throbbing between his temples.

A wave of nausea washed over Tommy, quickly he scrambled out of his cocoon of blankets running over quickly to the ensuite bathroom. Hunching over the toilet throwing up whatever alcohol and bile was twisting his stomach into knots. Aching from vomiting, Tommy rested his sweaty body against the cool tile floor panting.

"Fuck Christmas," he mumbled.

After a while, Tommy finally got up, maybe eating something would help. His footsteps echoed throughout his empty home. Tommy’s home was small, Evan called it cozy, but right now it felt endlessly large and cold. He hated his house, he hated that he hated it. Tommy spent years fixing it up into something of his own, now it felt like it didn't belong to him, that he wasn't

Once in the kitchen, Tommy opens the fridge, a cool breeze rushes through. To his dismay, there was hardly anything edible in his fridge. Tommy shouldn't be surprised, he hardly bought anything at the grocery store, he hardly ate since... since fucking up his own life. His head pounded, it was getting harder to ignore. Grabbing one of the very few water bottles in his fridge and a bottle of Excedrin, Tommy takes the pills and gulps them down with water. He didn't care that he hasn't eaten, he didn’t care that the meds might fuck up his stomach later, he needed to eliminate that headache fast.

Tommy’s eyes looked around the cold empty house, not a Christmas decoration in sight. As big as the house felt, the walls closed in around him. It was getting harder to breathe. Why was it getting harder to breathe? What if he was going to wind up dead in this fucking house alone? Would anyone miss him? Would he even miss himself? Life would go on and on, not even realizing he died, alone, in this stupid fucking house. Tommy knew he wasn't going to die soon, he was fit, healthy, went to the doctors, he was fine. Yeah sure, fine. Totally and completely fine... in this cold empty house.

He needed to get out of there, fast.

He didn't care that he was in his joggers and Evan's hoodie (in which he left behind months ago). Tommy quickly grabbed his boots, wallet, sunglasses, and keys, not even making an effort to tie the laces, and headed straight for the front door.

After shutting the front door behind him he let out a sigh of relief, of fresh air, as if the air in the house were poisonous to his lungs. Even with the sunglasses shielding his eyes, the sun was still too bright for him to see. Tommy’s eyes eventually landed on a crushed box in front of his doorstep. A small white box with crumbs spilling out of the broken edges. Ants crawled all over it, feasting on whatever was inside. Tommy tilted his head, curious about the mystery box in front of him. From the footprint on the box, all Tommy could assume was he stepped on it last night, too drunk from the bar to realize there was something waiting for him when he got home. He crouched down to the box lifting the lid. Broken crumbled Christmas cookies filled the tiny box. Sal must have left this here last night. Maybe Claire made cookies instead of her chocolate caramel fudge this year.

Tommy lifted what he could and threw it in the trash can at the edge of his driveway, whipping away the crumbs from his hand. Before closing the lid, Tommy caught the little note taped to the box. To Tommy was written in familiar handwriting, Evan's handwriting. Tommy quickly shut the lid, a nauseating pit formed in his stomach.

Christmas music echoes throughout the shopping isles of the grocery store. The wheels of the shopping cart squealed as they rolled along the linoleum. Tommy could only count a few others that were actually shopping. Talking his time - with nothing else to do - Tommy slowly strolled through the store looking at every little thing. It wasn't until he reached the produce aisle when Tommy abruptly stopped, the soles of his shoes speaking on the linoleum. He looked down at the variety of mushrooms before him.

"Which mushrooms should I choose, Tommy?"

Tommy turns to find Evan looking down at the mushrooms. Evan's eyebrows furrowed, his hands on his hips. Tommy watched as Evan bit down on his bottom lip contemplating. Tommy loved how Evan looked while contemplating.

Tommy loved Evan, he didn’t say it out loud but he loved him. He has for a while now, but it really didn't click until that day in the graveyard. He hoped the basketball tickets he bought just a couple hours ago showed his love. He was a little nervous about their six-month anniversary, he wasn't sure why. He hoped the tickets conveyed how much their relationship meant to him. It was how this whole thing started, right?

"Which do you think morel or chanterelle?" Evan asked.

"Uh, I am not sure," Evan chuckled, "What's the difference?"

"Well morels have this smokey nutty flavor, chanterelles on the other hand have this somewhat fruity flavor. I just can't decide what would be better for this orzo recipe. It has to be perfect."

"Evan hon' it's just orzo it doesn't have to be perfect. Besides, Maddie and Howie will be happy with whatever you bring for the Christmas party."

"Yes it does," Evan looked at him. "It’s my first Christmas with you, it has to be perfect."

Tommy’s heart swelled.

"Evan..." Tommy kissed the birthmark above Evan's eyebrow, "All I need is you for it to be perfect."

Tears stung Tommy’s eyes, the memory making him ache.

Quickly he wheeled the cart away, unable to look at mushrooms the same now. He quickly got the things he intended to get in the first place, a package of chocolate chip cookie dough and a small tub of cream cheese frosting. He didn't know why he took so long in the store, nor did he know why he took a shopping cart for two items. Maybe it was to stall time, to lean on something, to ground him.

From the speakers the soothing sounds of Wham! sung a little tune.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart

But the very next day, you gave it away

This year, to save me from tears

I'll give it to someone special

"You have got to be fucking kidding me right now."

Tommy couldn’t get out of that grocery store fast enough.

Tommy stared up at the screen above him, Babygirl, Wicked, Nosferatu. So many choices on the screen it made his headache again. The package of cookie dough tapped onto his thigh.

"What would have the least Christmas spirit?" Tommy looked down at the board teen.

"I don't know man," she said, not really looking up from her book.

"Wouldn't you've seen these movies?"

"Just because I work here doesn't mean I have seen any of them."

Tommy slumped down into the movie theater chair with his extra large cherry lime Icee slush, a large popcorn (extra butter), his package of cookie dough, and cream cheese frosting. He must admit he was surprised that the workers let him walk in with food. But he probably looked as he felt, like shit. Nobody really wants to talk to you when you look like you are going through hell, especially during the holidays.

Eventually, Tommy landed on Nosferatu, it seemed the safest bet, even though Tommy hated horror movies. Couldn't stand them. He always found himself to be anxious and jumpy after every single one he has watched. He never got that much sleep after a horror movie. But maybe that is what he needed, to be anxious and jumpy, to keep his mind off of things, to preoccupy. And the whole not being able to sleep after horror movies... Well, it wasn't like he was getting that much sleep to begin with these days. His bed was too cold without Evan.

"Babe?"

Tommy flinched, the mattress sunk down next to him as Evan sat next to him, his eyes filled with concern.

"Are you alright? You've been biting your nails a lot tonight?"

Tommy removed his fingernails from his teeth, he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was a bad habit he had since he was a kid. His father practically yelled at him about it more times than he could count. Only pussies bite their nails. That is what his father always said. He picked up the habit again while in the army. Luckily it only became a habit when he was anxious. Tonight seemed to be one of those nights.

"Sorry," Tommy mumbled.

"Hey, you don't need to be," Evan inched closer, "What's going on inside that head of yours?"

Tommy sighed slumping his shoulders down, "I hate horror movies Evan, I am sorry I just do. I know you wanted to do this marathon of thirteen movies for thirteen nights but... I just can't stand them. They make me anxious and I can't relax after watching them. I am so sorry."

"Hey," Evan cupped Tommy’s face pulling him to look right at Evan, "Don't be sorry, we don't have to do it if you don't like it ok?"

Tommy nodded.

"Now," Evan smirked, "Let's see how I can distract you."

"Distract me?"

Evan hummed as he pulled down the waistband of Tommy’s briefs.

"Oh," Tommy hummed.

"Let me grab the lube, and I'll make you forget every scary little thing."

"You better," Tommy giggled.

Tommy watched the credits roll, he wished he did have a distraction, a good one, to keep the thoughts in his mind at bay. It was too bad that the perfect distraction probably wanted nothing to do with him now.

By the time Tommy left the movie theater, darkness covered the night sky. He got into his truck and left. Tommy didn’t want to go home, not yet. Not to the empty cold unwelcoming house. But where else would he go? Nowhere. Usually, on days like these, he'd sit down and watch Love, Actually and forget about the world around him. But not today, actually not even in the whole month of December. He never could get through the whole thing in December.

The loneliness was eating away at him. He didn't know how much longer he could take it, the loneliness was becoming too loud, too unbearable.

As Tommy drove down his street he looked through every house with lights wondering if the families inside were happy. Wondering why his family never was. Even the houses with no Christmas decor still felt warm and welcoming. But not his. Something was different though, someone was there, right at his doorstep.

"Evan?"

Tommy pulled his car into his driveway killing the engine. Evan fumbled with the large paper cards in his hands cursing under his breath as he picked them up. Tommy shut the car door unsure how Evan hasn't noticed him yet. The noise from the car door made Evan jump up, looking at Tommy with his big blue eyes, his cheeks growing pink.

"Uh, h-hey Tommy." Evan rubbed the back of his neck.

"Evan, what are you doing here?"

"I uh," Evan gestured to the large cards sprawled on the ground. "I wanted to do something... well. You love Love, Actually so much I thought that this would be-" Evan's cheeks morphed from pink to red. "I-It’s stupid."

"It's not stupid," Tommy chuckled. "It’s adorable."

"R-Really?"

Tommy hummed, walking a bit closer to Evan.

"The last one was going to ask if you could be my date to Maddie and Chim's Christmas party." Evan smiled.

"Evan, I... I can't..." his voice trailed off to a mumble.

"Why? It's not like you have any plans."

Tommy winced at Evan's words.

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to, that was..." Evan pressed his lips together thinly, his shoulders stiff, "Uncalled for."

"Evan I don't know if that would work," Tommy murmured darting his eyes away and crossing his arms, "I hurt you. I am sorry for that but I did it anyway. How could you know I wouldn't hurt you again?"

Evan sighed, he inched closer to Tommy wrapping his arms around Tommy’s biceps squeezing them gently. "I don't... but that doesn't mean we should fight for this. Tommy, I went over what you said that night over and over on an endless loop. You wanted this just as much as I do, don't turn your back on this. On us."

"Evan, I am nobody's last, I am not someone people love unconditionally, that's just now who I am."

"You're wrong Tommy," Evan said, determination flaring in his eyes, "I love you. I love the good, the bad. Every single bit of you. You are loveable. Whether you are with me or not I will always love you, no matter what."

Tommy could feel the tears forming around his eyes.

"I wish you will choose to be with me," Evan whispered.

"Evan..." Tommy's voice cracked, "I-I have so much shit to work through."

"So do I. But let's not do it apart when we can deal with it together."

"The last time I let someone get in this close... it fucking shattered me. It took me years to pick up the pieces. I don't know if I can do that again."

"Are you not hurting now?"

Tommy huffed, "Of course I am, but-"

"Tommy I cannot predict the future, everything could work out for the both of us. We could die horribly tomorrow. Who knows? But can we just focus on the present and walk our path to the future together?"

"I am so sick and tired of being alone."

"I know." Evan moved his hand up holding Tommy’s cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb. "Please don't be alone tonight. We can talk later but don't be alone tonight."

"You have no idea how much I wanted you by my side, how much I've missed you, how much I needed you."

"I think I have somewhat of an idea. You are calling me Evan again." Tommy's face felt warm, burning even. "You have no idea how much I needed you Tommy, how much I still need you."

Evan brought Tommy in closer, pressing his lips against Tommy's gently kissing him. Tommy missed this, needed this, craved this. He wrapped his hands around Evan's waist kissing back desperately needing Evan more than air itself. The kiss went from gentle to passionate making up for lost time, both hungry - no, starving - for each other.

Both parted gasping for air, Tommy watched Evan's eyes glitter from the stars above.

"I want to figure this out by your side, If you will let me." Tommy whispered.

"Of course," Evan kissed the center of Tommy’s forehead, "Merry Christmas Tommy."

Tommy chuckled, "Merry Christmas Evan."

Maybe this Christmas was going to be different after all.

#yay it's out!#it became a lot longer than intended but i am very happy with it #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 #911 abc #bucktommy fic #eds writes fics

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gingerteafairy · 1 day ago

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𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩 (𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Rumors start flying at the Heffley's chaotic family dinner, and what was once just a joke turned into the realest thing you’ve ever had.

tags: fluff, no smut but it's suggestive, f!reader, christmas party. words: 1.4k

It was Christmas, and Rodrick Heffley kept banging on his drums like they were the only thing keeping him sane during that chaotic family dinner. Greg was off messing around with Rowley, and Rodrick couldn’t do a thing about it in the name of "holiday spirit." To make things worse, Heather Hills had rejected him two weeks before, and she was now a guest at the dinner. Meanwhile, his mom couldn’t stop dancing to those ridiculous Christmas songs, while his dad stood there, practically dying of embarrassment.

Sneaking through the door, you spotted Rodrick giving his best aggressive solo, admiring how talented—and pissed—he could be, just like the goofy kid he was. You knew him from music class, and you couldn’t help but fall in love with the way he played. You definitely had a thing for drummers—it was obvious with all the school crushes and band posters you had. But Rodrick was different. He wasn’t your average rockstar; he was a cute, emo boy trying to look dark and mysterious, and that made you smile.

"Escaping the party?" you asked, leaning against the doorframe, the clinking of plates filling the air.

Rodrick paused, lifting his hand to silence the drums. "What’d you say?" he asked, glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow, his ears still ringing from the loud music.

"Escaping the party?" You repeated, grinning as you stepped closer and plopped down on the small sofa in the garage.

"Yeah, that’s torture," he muttered, a half-smile tugging at his lips as he slid off his stool to sit next to you. The overwhelming scent of his cologne, too strong for someone his age, hit you like a wave. You tried not to wrinkle your nose.

"I agree. My parents won’t stop saying embarrassing stuff about me, and my little sister’s acting all sweet like she’s not the literal spawn of Satan," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Don’t you just hate that?" He chuckled, crossing his left leg and settling more comfortably on the couch. "Younger siblings…"

"It’s like their job," you laughed, adjusting your oversized sweater to make yourself more comfortable.

"How'd you escape the sweater curse?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Rodrick grinned proudly. "I told my mom that if I wore a sweater, I’d torture the guests with a live band performance and body odor." He leaned back, clearly pleased with himself.

"Ugh, I wish I could pull that off. I’m stuck wearing this ridiculous thing," you sighed, leaning your elbows on your knees and propping your chin in your hands.

To be honest, Rodrick thought you looked kinda cute in that sweater two sizes too big, but there was no way he was gonna admit that out loud. Pfft, a rockstar liking a sweater?

"I think you look cute," he whispered, breaking every rockstar rule just to get a smile out of you.

"Thanks," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush a little.

"Hey, how ‘bout we go to my room and listen to something that’s not this Santa nonsense?" Rodrick suggested, standing up abruptly. "I mean… if you want, of course. Not like it’s mandatory or anything. I don’t wanna force you to do anything…"

"I’m in." You grinned, standing up and stretching. "But, uh, how do we get past all those people?"

Rodrick rolled his eyes dramatically, a grin playing on his lips. "Pfft. Relax. I’ve got the perfect plan."

"And what’s this brilliant plan, Heffley?" You crossed your arms and tilted your head, raising an eyebrow.

"Simple. We run." He grabbed your hand and tugged you along, sprinting from the garage, through the living room, and up the main staircase, weaving through all the older relatives and kids in the room.

"Rodrick!" Susan shouted from across the room, causing you both to freeze mid-step, caught like deer in headlights.

"Great plan, huh?" you muttered, narrowing your eyes at him, turning to see Mrs. Heffley glaring at you both from the bottom of the stairs.

"What do you think you're…" She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze dropping to your joined hands, and a sly smile spread across her face.

"Oh, no. Mom, it’s not what you think," Rodrick stammered, quickly letting go of your hand to take a step down.

"Uh-huh." She held up a hand to stop him, her eyes flicking back and forth between you two, pausing to focus on how red your face had become. "I know exactly what my little darlings are up to. Why didn’t you tell me you brought your girlfriend for Christmas, Rodrick? This makes me so happy."

"Girlfriend?" You both said at the same time, exchanging a look.

"Everyone, come here! Greg, Manny, sweetie, I’ve got great news!" Susan called, skipping happily toward the living room.

"Let’s go," Rodrick said, practically dragging you down the hallway, slamming the door shut behind you both. He wedged a chair under the doorknob to make sure no one would burst in.

"Wow, I almost died back there," you laughed, placing a hand over your chest and walking backward until you collapsed onto his bed, your feet swinging off the side.

Rodrick ruffled his hair in a slightly awkward manner before lying down next to you, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed. "Damn, sorry about that... my mom..."

"It’s fine," you reassured him, glancing up at the ceiling. "She and my mom are probably still talking about it."

"Yeah. You being my girlfriend," he teased, rolling his eyes.

"Girlfriend. Can you imagine? What a joke," you laughed, staring at him, your gaze lingering on his dark eyeliner. His eyes were so beautiful, so expressive.

"It’s a joke. Girlfriend…" he repeated quietly, his gaze softening as he took in your face. You were so beautiful, so real, so...

Before he knew it, his lips were on yours in a desperate kiss, his hand finding its way to your waist, which you immediately responded to, your fingers tangled in his hair.

It felt perfectly right. His lips were soft, and you tasted just right. The way your bodies fit together, the way your tongues danced together, and how his hands knew exactly where to touch you. It was awkward, sure, but that was what made Rodrick special—everything he did was so real.

The kiss broke, and you both stared at each other, neither of you needing to say a word to know that you should have done this much sooner. But then, your laughter broke the silence, a burst of awkward giggles that filled the room.

"I’m such an idiot," Rodrick laughed, his body shaking with the movement, and you couldn’t help but laugh along. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket by the fire.

"You are. What even was that?" you said, still laughing, the sound echoing between you two.

"I don’t know. But I liked it," he admitted, stopping his laughter for a second to look into your eyes, his expression soft.

"I liked it too," you smiled, leaning in for another hug, the warmth of his embrace pulling you closer. "But I think we just made a rumor come true."

"Damn, it’s true," he muttered, biting his lip to stifle the next burst of laughter, which escaped when you smiled again. "How about we keep this rumor going for a bit, until we’re actually boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Rodrick Heffley wants to be my boyfriend?" You teased, and he couldn’t resist pinching your cheeks.

"Maybe," he replied, his voice a little unsure, but hoping for the best in return.

"I do too. Maybe. Want to be your girlfriend," you said, giving him a sly smile.

"Cool."

"But I think we should leave the room before we start another kind of rumor," you giggled, gesturing toward the door. "You know... that kind."

"I wouldn’t mind if the rumor was true," he teased, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe before focusing on your mouth, and then your eyes.

"I wouldn’t mind either," you whispered, your eyes falling on his lips. And that was enough for Rodrick to do what he did best—go in for another kiss. That night, you both made sure to live up to all the Christmas rumors that might swirl around the table, especially when you came back wearing that worn-out sweater, messy hairstyle and Rodrick had eyeliner that clearly belonged to someone with a lot more experience. Yeah, for the first time, you were grateful rumors existed.

@bernardsbendystraws divider

@ikkyfics this one is for you honey

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #imagine #devon bostick #rodrick Heffley x you

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tuesdaykiss · 3 hours ago

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“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part — 9 | 10 | 11

masterlist

it was around three o’clock by the time you had gotten there. approaching ‘heyward’s’, the older of the pair straightened up at the sight of you, a broad grin erupting on his face. your lingering worries soon seemed to evaporate, as he waved you over in such a warm and welcoming nature.

“hey, kid!” he called, his voice nothing but friendly, “come to lend a hand, yeah?”

“if you’ll have me,” you replied, your expression now reflecting his, “figured i owed you a favour.”

heyward shot you a playful wink, a silent gesture of his thankfulness.

“pope!” he bellowed, as you followed him inside the shop, “get your ass in here, boy!”

a laugh bubbled in your chest at their dynamic, as you friend appeared; sweat and dirt littered his face, a result of his long day’s work.

“hey, y/n,” pope greeted you, sharing a familiar bright smile despite the clear exhaustion in his voice and appearance, “y’alright?”

“better now i’m here with you guys,” you remarked, gesturing to the father-and-son duo standing before you.

yourusername

liked by kiaracarrera, jjmaybank and 2,907 others

yourusername pope, i love your dad

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heywardpope he loves you more than he loves me

yourusername impossible!

jjmaybank working hard, or hardly working?

itscleo my fav father-son duo 🔥🔥🔥

user she isn’t at rafe’s celebrations?

user2 so much for wanting to attend the next party

ilovesarah ☕️☕️☕️☕️

yourgirlsofia

liked by sarahcameron, rafecam and 708 others

yourgirlsofia celebrating @/rafecam 🤗

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itsruthie stunning

sarahcameron ❤️

restless and searching; rafe’s gaze flicked across the crowd of people. he scanned every inch of the room, hoping — needing — to catch your eye again. but to his dismay, you were nowhere to be found.

his icy eyes darted through the bodies of people. there was sarah. focusing in on his sister’s surroundings, rafe’s confusion only depends when he was unable to locate you: you weren’t there.

needing answers, he pushed his way through the bustling country club, a surge of determination washing over him. he dropped into the seat beside his sister, his voice remaining casual.

“uh, where’s y/n? stuck in the bathroom or something?” he joked, forcing a grin as he attempted to make light of the situation, in an attempt to conceal his disarray; mask his concern for bewilderment.

sarah sighed, as she looked up through her glass. the volume of alcohol pumping through her system, only heightened her emotions. “y/n went home,” she rolled her eyes, “headache.”

rafe felt his smile falter. home? headache? questions began to pollute his mind. why hadn’t you announced your departure? why hadn’t you at least said goodbye?

his brows knitted together, his face scrunching as frustration began brewing beneath the surface. leaning back in his chair, he attempted to piece together what had gone wrong; he was left with only disappointment, growing in his chest.

your phone

you couldn’t send it: you were too afraid of the answer…

a/n: anyways, i love heyward <3 best dad award goes to him!

tomorrow is gonna be a writing day for me; had a few days off over the christmas period, but now i’m all caught up on my drafts!

if you have any thoughts of what has happened so far, feel free to comment - i’d love to hear them!

taglist: @my-name-is-baby @yesshewrites1 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @fruitcakerafe @littlefreak-liz @wdwbts101

#dividers by pommecita #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smau #outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe obx #smau #social media #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe fluff #rafe outer banks #rafe x y/n #rafe smau

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romana-after-dark · 20 hours ago

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Our Gentle Sins: Part 12

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Chapter summary: Past. Dolly tells it all. Present. Has Logan really changed?

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religious trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Before

With your hair fixed and dressed smoothed, there was no sign of the passion you and Logan had shared, save for a smudge of tinted lip palm. Logan reached out, hated how you flinched even if just so slightly, and wiped it clean. He resisted the urge to lick his thumb, just to taste another trace of you, so he settled with his tongue darting out to his own lips, just for a remainder of your essence.

You and Logan sat on the couch. You faced the ladder that stood against the tall book shelf; Logan faced you.

Killed people? You? You, who cried when he was about to kill a spider, begging him to take it outside. You, who were the shining beacon to mutant kids that they could be loved by humans. You, who were so innocent you shuttered at the brush of his hand on yours.

“It wasn’t in self defense. I don’t have an excuse.”

“Was it Mark?” God, he hoped it was.

You nod.

“Sounds like self defense to me.”

Your hair flies out of its pristine condition with how aggressively you shake your head, brows knitted together in anguish and frustration. Logan didn’t understand, he could tell. He wasn’t sure he could ever understand you, really.

“He was asleep, Lo-”

“Dolly, he beat you bloody, he almost killed you-”

“He wasn’t the only one I killed.”

The silence hung in the air for a few moments as Logan waited. Waited for you to elaborate. Waited for it to make sense in his head. Waited for his anger at your secrets to subside.

“Listen doll,” He stated, clear and assertive. “Just tell me. I can handle it. You want me to tell you the awful things I’ve done? I will, if it’s gonna make you be honest with me. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you.”

A little nod, then you swallowed. It began. “My sister was getting married. Grace. She was 14… her proposed husband was 29.”

“Jesus christ…” Logan didn’t exactly think he was the most morally superior man out there, but he thought any grown man attracted to a teenager was disgusting.

The hem of your long sleeve makes for a good fidget; the weather was getting colder. “I couldn’t do it, Lo. I couldn’t sit by and just- just allow my baby sister to go through what I’d gone through!” You still weren’t looking at him, but you didn’t stop. “I thought about calling the police, but what would it do? Our parents consented, and at the time she wasn’t going to say she didn’t want to, he was a handsome older man, of COURSE she wanted to be with him! I wanted Mark, and look where that landed me!” Finally, you turned to Logan, tears welling up your red eyes, but a look of determination on your face. You didn’t look sorry. “She was 14, Logan. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“I understand.” And he did. If he thought Rogue was getting herself into a situation like that, he’d have stepped in. Hell, sometimes he was ready to beat Remy’s ass. If he had actually thought Remy did anything to that girl, he’d be dead. “She was just a kid.”

A deep breath. “My parents, Grace, her fiance and his parents came to our house one night, we lived in town and they were wedding planning. I took Mark’s gun…” You give a dry laugh. “He pistol whipped me with it more than once, so I knew where he kept it. That was his mistake. I put the silencer on and… I guess just… I dunno. I don’t really remember it. I shot Mark, my parents, the fiance… the fiance's parents. I- sometimes I feel bad about that…”

“Don’t.” His hand reaches for yours. “They were enabling their kid to rape a teenager. Did they have daughters?”

“Yeah… a few younger girls in high school.”

“You probably saved them from getting sold off too.”

“But now they’re in foster care! And my siblings! Our families are torn apart and it’s my fault!”

“Dolly!” Logan pulls you into him, and for a minute you freak out, you hit him and shout, but soon you fall into his strong arms, sobbing. “Your parent’s did this, not you! You did everything to protect your family, this is not. Your. Fault.” He felt you cry into his arms. He never really thought about your brothers and sisters, but he realizes now how much you must miss them. How much you must think and worry about them… Charles knows your story, has he told you how they- Charles knows. Of course he does, he saved you, he took you in… who else knows?

“Does Remy know?”

He feels you nod against him, and jealousy spirals in his chest. “Yeah, I- he and I were up after a nightmare and it… came out.”

He rubs your back. He tries to turn it around, to make sure you didn’t know how much it was eating him up that Remy knew you better than him. “He agrees with me, doesn’t he? And he still loves you. We don’t think you’re a bad person.” A sick part of him was mad you opened up to remy, that you found comfort in him, not Logan. That you didn’t need Logan as long as you had Remy. He takes your chin in his hand, gentle and uncalloused from his healing, touching your soft, wet face as he guides it to his own. “I still love you, Dolly. I love you, and this only makes me love you more.”

Your eyes shone, sadness there but also a glint of love. “I- I love you, Logan, but… I can’t do this right now. I need a little time… just to get myself straight. Is- Is that okay?”

“Dolly…” He kissed your lips, tasting the salt of your tears and the cherry lip balm, trying to force his tongue in your mouth.

“Lo-” You were cut off by his kiss, your hands gripping his flannel shirt began to press flat against his chest.

“Just love me, doll face. Just love me, and it’s gonna be okay.”

“I do!” He could smell the adrenalin and sweat on you, but also the arousal dripping from between your legs when his hand dipped down to the curve of your ass. “I just -mmph- Lo, I need time.”

He ground you down, feeling his erection between your closed thighs as you try to squire away. He just needed you to see, to see how much he loved you, to see how happy you could be together and how good he could make you feel. “Everything is gonna be okay, I promise.”

He needed to be what Remy wasn’t, what he hoped Remy wasn’t, and if he was, he was gonna be it better.

Then he felt a tear drop on his collarbone, and he stopped. He stopped despite the urge to fuck you open right here on this couch, to make you scream loud enough everyone knew who you belonged to. To claim you and fill you so publicly that Scott knew he couldn’t take you from him. Not you. Not you because you were different.

But he didn’t want you crying. He didn’t want you like that.

“Shhh, shhhhhhh it’s okay Dolly, it’s okay. We’ll wait. We’ll wait until you're ready.” He kissed your forehead, cuddling you to his warm chest. “Ain’t doing nothing until ya ready, baby girl.”

After

You liked Wade. A lot.

He was a little out of pocket sometimes, way more overtly sexual at first than you were comfortable with. He made some comment about some sex toy you didn’t understand, and when he tried to explain your face was burning up. Logan proceeds to smack him and drag him out of the room. There was a snikt, and a brief shriek from Wade, then quiet as they muttered back and forth. A minute later, Logan came into the room again, looking sheepish as he got a wet washcloth and said ‘don’t ask.’ Remy told you he probably stabbed Wade, and upon seeing the horrified look on your face explain Wade’s healing that the guy, honestly, liked it.

When Wade and Logan returned, Wade was wearing Logan’s school sweater.

Anyway, after that, Wade apologized and was more careful with how he spoke. He was still strange, a little gremlin at times, but an overall nice guy. You liked how much he made Logan laugh, even when he tried to pretend he was annoyed.

You liked Rogue too. She was a nice girl, sweet, and had a strength you admired. Logan loved her too, it was clear.

And God, so did Remy.

Remy treated Rogue like a goddess, worshipping her every move and his black and red eyes following her with adoration. It made you happy to see. Remy was a good friend, a good person, and a good man; you knew he’d treat her well, and you liked seeing him happy. Maybe in a few years your baby boy would have a friend. Your hand goes to your stomach, feeling a kick. You like that idea?

Wade gasps loudly, looking at you. “Is he kicking??” Wade loved kids. Apparently, he and Vanessa had been talking about having kids. Something about naming them Cher? But that was before it went south.

“You wanna feel?”

Wade eyes lit up, but he hesitated still, blue frosting on his face. Rogue, Jubilee, and Kitty planned a surprise party for you after you let Rogue have the card saying the gender. The party was going nicely, Logan was talking to Jean about something you couldn’t hear, and Scott was scowling at them from across the room, ignoring whatever Kitty was talking about. When Jean laughed, you mirrored Scotts glare with a sad look of your own. You didn’t dislike Jean; she was nice. She had been handling your pregnancy and was nothing but kind and gentle. Still, you were only human, and she had sex with your fiance. Your eyes meet Scotts visor, his face unreadable. There was something similar in your positions.

You want to be distracted.

“C’mon, Logans busy.”

When Wade glances at the former couple, he makes a face you can’t quite decipher, then comes over to you. Taking his hand in yours, you guide him to where your son is kicking. It’s over your dress of course, but it still feels strange to have a man touching you, even with Wade being respectful.

He’s absolutely beaming. With a slight, breathy laugh, “Guard dog isn’t gonna bite my hand off, is he?”

“No, I promise.” You laugh back. After feeling the kick a few times, Wade pulls back. For all his unserious bravado, you noticed he’s particularly careful not to touch you or not touch longer than needed. Logan told you he’s secretly insecure about his skin, he thinks it freaks people out. You will admit, it took a little getting used to. Of course it did, just like Remy’s eyes or Kurt’s blue fur. But you didn’t think he was gross, and you didn’t mind his hand reaching to help you up or steading you when you trip. You were beginning to trust Wade like you trusted Remy.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You smile warmly. “You and Rogue. I like seeing Logan so happy.”

“Yeah,” Wade laughs, “He’s like a teenager finding pornhub for the first time, damn near giddy.”

You weren’t sure what pornhub was, but you could guess. “Actually, we wanted to talk to you about something… Logan feels to awkward, but we were thinking baby names-”

“Oh I love baby names! Got a fuck ton picked out. Cher was number one of course but considering Remy’s absolutely incomprehensible cajun it might get mixed up with the whole ‘chere, cherie, mon cherie’ bit,” he mocks the accent. “Might not be the best. For boys, I hope you stay away from the god awful braxtyn, brayden, etc names, but DONT fall into the trap of those grandfather names. Theres 1000 baby Henry’s right now, i can’t keep doing it-”

“Wade.”

“Yes?”

“We picked out a name already.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “Go on. But I’m warning you, I will be honest.”

You giggle, and see Logan glance over at you. He gives a warm smile, and you give a little wave before turning back to Wade. “First name is gonna be Steven.”

“Oh course, like the bible guy.”

“The ‘bible guy’ is a respected figure in the church, Wade.”

“And which church is that again? I missed that part- never mind, go on.”

You shoot the man a pointed semi-glare, but in good humor. “The biblical figure is a factor, but also Remy’s middle name is Étienne, which is a french version of Steven.”

Wade sighs dreamily. “Oh, that beautiful hunk of a man is going to absolutely adore that.”

“And for the middle name, we were thinking… Winston. Well, actually, I wanted Winston for the first name but Logan said other kids would make fun of him for having the name of a cigarette brand-” you were nearly knocked over with the hug. “Ah!”

“FUCK! I LOVE YOU GUYS SO FUCKING MUCH RIGHT NOW!”

Logan was over between you in a second, steadying you from the force of his hug. “Watch it, bu-” Wade did actually knock over Logan this time.

“I”M SO FUCKING HARD RIGHT NOW!”

The rest of the party went wonderfully. You told everyone the name you had chosen, bringing Remy to tears as he hugged you.

“None of this would be possible without you, Remy.” You try not to think about ‘this’ including what Logan had done to you, but Remy didn’t know about that. Remy had gotten you guys together, and helped along the way, he was the reason you were having Stevie.

The only thing wrong was later in the night. Wade rambled to you and Logan about how things were going to get real confusing if Stevie was a mutant, because it was already confusing enough with the amount of Steven heroes. Apparently there was a Steve Rogers, Stephan Strange, and a Steven grant already. You didn’t know what he was talking about, but you let him go off.

Logan was not paying attention. As Wade happily rambled away, switching topics to the wedding in two months, you notice Logan clutching the beer bottle tightly and glaring hard in the corner. There stood Remy between Rogue’s legs as she sat up on the counter. Most guests had filed out by this point, leaving only you, Wade, Logan, Remy and Rogue, and then Kurt and Emma talking at the table.

“Oh come on.” You laugh, washing up dishes. Jubilee had promised they’d take care of the clean up in the morning but you didn’t want to leave a big mess so you and Logan were getting the worst of it done. “It’s Remy, you like him, remember? We’re naming our son after him.”

Logan was throwing all the trash away. “I like him as your friend, doll face. But he’s a whore.”

With a small gasp, you turn around. “Please don’t call my friend that, Logan.”

He softens just a bit before sighing an throwing a beer bottle in the trash. It shatters. “I’m sorry, baby, but you know it’s true. He’s slept with half the mansion.”

“He hasn’t slept with anyone all year. You know Rogue left him heart broken.”

“She didn’t do anything to him!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me!” You point at him with a wet hand. “I’m not blaming her. I like her, and I know you’re protective of her, but don’t act like Remy beat and assaulted her.” It was a pointed remark, a little reminder that you hadn’t, in fact, forgotten. Logan’s face is angry, something that has rarely, if ever, been directly at you. It makes you nervous. You go back to the dishes. “It’s just Remy. He’ll be good to her.”

“He’s so much older than her! She’s just a kid, dolly!”

You scoff. “They have a smaller age gap than we do.”

“Don’t fucking talk back to me.”

You hated this, the way he spoke to you like you dad, like Mark did. What had happened? Why was he acting like this all of a sudden? The alcohol?

“I don’t think you get a say in what she does when you disappeared on her without a work just because Jean-”

The hit was so hard your forehead slammed into the cabinet.

Before you could even react, before you had a chance to walk through the steps that Logan had hit you, you were in his arms, sitting on the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry baby, oh my god, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t…” He stroked your hair, your body shaking a bit but too in shock to cry.

He hit you. Logan hit you. And now your head throbbed from hitting the wood cabinet and fuck, did it ache

“It wasn’t supposed to be hard, I just wanted your attention. You know that right? I wouldn’t hurt you?”

Logan wouldn’t hurt you. Logan wouldn’t hurt you. You flash back to months ago in this very kitchen, breaking down crying to Scott that he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t… He was going to know now, he would know he hit you, Logan couldn’t hide it. Everything that you’d built together would fall apart.

The team would fall apart, people picking sides.

Surely you’d lose Rogue, Wade, and Kurt, they’d take Logan’s side.

Would you lose Remy too? Would he chose keeping Rogue over you?

Stevie would be raised without a father once Charles saw into your mind… but Logan’s voice echo’d in your head from that day. ‘Not gonna tell Charles or anyone, not when you got as wet as you did, right?’. Charles would know. He’d know you were wet, that’d you’d gotten turned on… that’d know that before, the times you and Logan kissed even way back to the dressing room incident. He’d know you told Logan you loved him… so what right did you have to call it rape?

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Bobby walked into the kitchen to see you two together, you crying in Logan’s lap.

“Yeah.” logan grumbled, an edge to his voice giving away he felt at least the slightest bit nervous. “She hit her head. Slipped on water at the sink.”

Bobby kneels down, ice frosting his hands he puts where the goose egg is forming. It feels good, like an ice pack. “I’m gonna get Jean, here-” He reached up to grab a dry rag, wets and then freezes it.

Logan tries to protest. “No, I think she’s fine.”

But Bobby was already heading out. “I’ll bring her here.”

“Wait! Just- I’ll carry her to the med bay, meet us there.”

Bobby shouts something in confirmation, and Logan scoops you up. “Poor baby, slipping on the water…”

Your head was spinning and throbbing, trying to make sense of what was happening. Did you slip? That had to be it. That had to be it. You had to have slipped.

Your head hurt.

LOGAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNN

Come on brother

Okay, one step closer! Someone on ao3 said this series was like a puzzle, and that made me so happy bc thats what i wanted it to be.

We got one big piece now; What dolly was hiding.

The next big piece is why did Logan go from sweet, soft logan to raping her? It does not excuse him at all, in fact it might make logan look worse.

thank you so much for all your love an support!

Unfortunetly it might be a min before the next chapter. i fell behind of writing bc holidays are BUSY at olive garden!!!! I gotta get the final chapter of rooms on fire out!!! its in my triple frontier list if you are interested!!! its a cult au, lots of twists and turns.

poll time!

happy hanukkah everyone!!!! If you celebrate like me, please check out this companion guide for rabbis for ceasefire, praying for a ceasefire, the safety of innocent palistinians the return of the hostages. You all should know where I stand on this, but supporting a ceasefire is bipartisan.

I will be making a donation to Doctors without borders this Hanukkah, and I greatly encourage you to do the same.

If you celebrate christmas, MERRY CHRISTMAS! Remember that the land jesus was born in is being torn apart by bombs, rape, guns, starvation and lack of shelter. Look through this prayer guide to pray for peace, and consider backing your prayers with monitary donation. Peace on earth means civilians not being bombs and the return of innocent hostages, both of which is supported by a ceasefire. Here is one specifically for catholics, the religion i was raised in.

Thank you for all your love and constant support here!

I had a rough holiday few weeks bc i work in a restraunt, and then saturday i got into a minor car accident. ran into a light pole. it was literally all my fault i have 0 excuses, it wasnt even icy. I hit my head and got whiplash by my car is drivable thank you g-d.

life goes on!

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia a @new-genesis100 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight @nonamevenus

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it-finally-happened · 3 days ago

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Batfam fic idea

So I put this in a tiktok comment but it'll probs be picked up here better.

I love one of the Batfam being a rescued Talon and bird/ bat language and them all chirping so my brain came up with an idea that I wanna see fleshed out.

Alfred has been looking for Bruce for years, he was taken at some point and we find out that the Court of Owls did this to make him a Talon or the Talon, idk.

Alfred has finally tracked him down and is going full red room to get his boy back (I'm an avid pennywayne shipper but you don't have to be to make this work). He finally find Bruce, only to have the Bruce done what he had always done and that's adopt kids, or in this case chicks, who are now also talons. You of course have Dick, Jason and Tim but the rest are up to you based on the main chunk on the fic which I'll get to later. Damien is either there as well or with Talia cuz the Court sold off Bruce's "stuff" to the Al Ghuls, if he is with Talia then make it a misson to get him cuz Talon Bruce is protective of what is his.

For the main chunk of the fic, have Alfred trying to tame his very feral kid and grandkids, who might keep increasing depending on your plot. He keeps trying to get them to speak instead of churping and he's feels himself getting older my the minute (but not really cuz he stand immortal Alfred) when he tries reintroducing them to society be it through school, work, clubs or super team bonding.

The JL can be an established thing if you want and Alfred got Bruce to be the bat and the others their monikers as a let out, queue an eventual batfam reveal cuz shenanigans and all the super teams having a feral bat with claws that hisses. Also want supers introducing their partners but also like, the batfam was in a cult and none of them know what is happening but apparently their friend shaped (I like Superbat, Birdflash, JayRoy and Timkon but again dealers choice). Also nests and cuddle piles and cute identity reveals but also glowing eyes from the dark, clawed hands, fangs and snarling. Alfred having to babysit cuz what do you mean I'm not allowed to unalive people and that it's wrong?

Maybe they try to remember life before they were taken, maybe they don't. Everyone ignoring high society and going yes this is grandad Alfred, he is our grandpa. Damien calling Bruce baba and everyone having a way of calling Bruce dad. Bruce learns about calling your kids nicknames and tries to act human and teach his kids human customs like that high five meme.

I just like this idea a lot.

#batfam #batfam shenanigans #talon dick grayson #talon #court of owls #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #jason todd #cryptid batfamily #identity reveal #tim drake #good dad bruce wayne #dc comics #plot bunny #fic ideas

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christronomy · 14 hours ago

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the devil is faceless // bang chan

cw: horror/doppelgänger au, fem reader, chris is a killer (for a good cause lol), body horror (mutilation), brief mention of murder/death, gore, and sex (not very detailed tho), slight angst.

you think about it as you lie on the cold floor. you're much closer to your dead lover than you thought you ever would be. it's almost as if you're holding his body in your arms again, the feeling of deadweight heavy on your chest, tears trailing down the sides of your head a reminder how he once was. warm.

christopher always ran warmer than usual, but it was a perfect contrast to how cold you often were. his arms were the only place you felt safest in, and he preferred it that way. "the world isn't what you think it is, pretty girl," he'd once said. he would always keep you safe from the monsters, the people who posed any sort of threat. he always got rid of the problem. that was, until it came back to haunt him.

your eyes always gave you away, because you were too innocent. you still couldn't understand how things functioned ever since they changed. anyone here could be an imposter or a copy of someone else, or even worse, tortured by their own perception of themself in a way that made them extremely hostile. you didn't see things the way he did, which was the complete opposite. chris always saw it, ever since you were kids—the imperfections in their facial expressions, wide, unnatural smiles, strange voices that he always heard in the back of his mind, in his nightmares.

when he got older he figured that disposing of these vile creatures would help silence those voices, but he was wrong. at first, it was fulfilling, but then it turned into a chore, and it was something not many people approved of. he was taking justice into his own hands and they didn't like it. how could someone kill so carelessly? how would you know they're really those monsters if you can't look at their face?

but chris always knew the difference. it was like they teased him, followed him around. they were unmistakably identifiable compared to real humans, and there were many more of those things than people thought, they just didn't realize how many more. so they called him paranoid, they never believed him when he described the truth, spreading lies and making it seem like he was simply telling stories, grueling fairytales just to scare others.

you always believed him, never doubted him for a second, especially when you saw it happen for the first time, the transformation that leaves barely an idea of what used to be-twisting limbs, the sound of flesh tearing and contorting, almost as if the body was just liquid in a mold, taking an entirely different shape. "don't look," he'd said, quickly pulling you into his arms and covering your eyes and ears with his coat, and in a matter of seconds, the walls were covered in blood. you didn't want to look away. she was your best friend, and you didn't want to forget what she looked like, but no matter how much you tried, you could only see what she had become, every time you closed your eyes.

what stuck with you the most was the voice, the sound of her screams almost like laughter, mixing with sobs, silent cries for help being overshadowed by the evil taking over her body, her life, her soul. only then was when you truly understood chris, why he was always sure to be on high alert at all times, why he struggled to sleep every night, why he needed the nicotine to soothe his body even if it was only a temporary fix. you truly understood what he said when he’d described it. the way it sounded to you was exactly what he'd said before.

"it sounds like a demon's laugh. twisted, sadistic, like it's enjoying itself. like the devil himself is whispering in your ear."

and he was right, the devil himself whispered in your ear that night, and never shut up, even to this day. the whisper became more like an obnoxiously loud, taunting voice the day that chris died. he died telling you to look away, with a smile on his face, because you knew that whenever he said those two simple words, the threat would be taken care of. but this time, it wasn't, and this time, you didn’t look away as the bullet went straight through his head, his blood spraying onto your face, watching him fall to his side with a sickening thud. snipers had somehow found and ambushed you as you were making your way back home, and he knew you were surrounded, he had sharp eyes. anyone else wouldn't be able to see where they were hiding, but he spotted every single one immediately, the lasers aiming straight for his head, and he knew he'd be dead if he made another move.

but they didn't spare him even when he stood still, and they didn't lift a finger when you held him in your arms in the middle of the abandoned road, your voice giving out from the way you couldn't contain your agonized screams. since then, he couldn't be there to protect you, to tell you to look away and that it would all be over soon, so you were lost. and that's how you ended up here, now, on the floor, limbs painfully stretched, you were pretty sure some of your bones had even snapped in the process, and you could see your blood pooling by your body through the corner of your eye. all because you'd encountered one of them. you narrowly escaped the attack somehow, but the effect of it still got to your body, painfully contorting it in an attempt to take control.

if chris were here, he would have eliminated the thing immediately, you thought. you thought about the way he always wore a large, long coat to hide his weapons, and to bury your face in it whenever you encountered a threat. it was the same way he would pull you into him when you were alone in the confines of your room, in your shared bed. you always laid your head down on his chest that way so you could fall asleep to his heartbeat, because it was the only way you could sleep. it was the same way he held you close when you got too tired from working your hips, the room feeling hot, stars obscuring your vision as soon as he whispered a soft, “i got you, baby,” as he took control, filling your mind with bliss.

if chris were here you wouldn't feel so cold like you do right now, you wouldn't be in so much pain, struggling to breathe, watching and feeling the life slowly drain out of you. but as much as it hurts, you’re starting to feel okay with it, because now you won't have to deal with this, whatever it is. because chris was right, this world wasn't what you thought it was. but he would've been proud of you for making it this far. now you're so much closer to your lover than ever, so instead of focusing on the blood by your ears, you look away one last time as your vision blurs, letting out a long breath. the cold deadweight on your chest suddenly feels like a warm, familiar embrace, the subtle smell of nicotine wafting through your nose, the once torturous whispers turning into soft-spoken reassurances, strong arms cradling your soul gently as you sink into the depths of this inevitable fate.

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r0tting-rat · 2 days ago

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Happy Christmas!

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: None Words: 1900+ Au: Midnight Overture: Cotard's Delirium (by me) Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and you do the mistake of sleeping-in while in the same house as two very strict robots. As a result to your laziness, you are forced to help out one of your bitchy employers in the kitchen. (Sun-centric, Sun's name is Sonne)

The walls of the manor were quiet, despite it being Christmas Eve. No child was running through the halls, no shadow or whisper could be heard behind closed doors or seen peeking behind corners—the rooms were all empty of their usual inhabitants, for Moon had taken all the kids outside to play in the snow. You had woken up late that morning, groaning in pain as your back and arm muscles complained and screamed at you to relax, with no automaton to knock on your door or scream at you to get dressed and come down for breakfast. In fact, after sending a glance to the clock hanging on the wall next to the door, you realized that you had skipped the meal altogether. Did Sonne really let you sleep that long? Seeing the clock’s hands pointing at 10:35, you immediately jumped up to your feet, cursing under your breath as you hurried to get dressed before any of the two automata caught you slacking off, throwing on a random sweater you had found at the foot of your bed and attempting to slip inside a pair of jeans you had left laying on the floor next to the drawer. Sonne was going to kill you for being late—seriously this time. He didn’t like when people left him waiting.

“Sonne?” you began to call after finally leaving your room, searching your brain for a plausible excuse as to why you were still sleeping past 10 am while running down the hall. You almost jumped down the stairs leading to the second floor, turning right and expecting to find the automaton sitting in the living room, in front of the fire, like he liked to do on cold winter mornings like that one. “Sonne, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t…!”

The automaton wasn’t there where you were used to find him; the fire was lit, the couches and comfy armchairs were surrounding it just like you had left them the night before, but no sun-themed robot was sitting on the one closest to the burning brazier with a soft blanket covering his shoulders and arms, complaining about the cold freezing his wires and locking his limbs in places. You looked, confused, outside the windows, expecting to see the large backyard covered in snow staring back at you, finding instead the three kids playing in the white coat of winter with their lunar guardian. Basil, the youngest, was trying to sneak up on Moon, as his older sisters Blanche and Annabel threw snowballs at the laughing automaton. Where else could Sonne be? Your second guess turned out to be the right one; the kitchen, rummaging through cupboards and drawers, dancing around the burning stoves and grilling pans like only someone who had cooked in the same house for 30 years could do.

Standing in a corner of the dining room, which opened on the left from the stairs, you hid from the automaton, squishing your body behind the white arch that separated the kitchen from the dining room. You listened to him working and let your body be surrounded by the enticing smells of his cooking, afraid to let your presence be known in case the robot was mad at you for being late. You were supposed to sweep the snow off the front yard that morning, but incredibly, you had messed up and slept in.

Peeking around the corner, into the bright kitchen, you let your curiosity conquer your mind and attemted to get a glimpse of what Sonne was cooking, daring to take a step forward when your eyes couldn’t see what was hiding inside those saucepans and bowls.

The automaton was dressed in fine brown trousers and a cream-colored sweater, layered over a white button up which peeked up from under the collar, paired with his usual black dress shoes. A red apron hugged his front, closing tightly in a perfect knot around his extremely thin waist, but you could bet your head on the fact that no drop or stain would have been found on the red fabric, were you to go and check right in that moment. Your eyes wandered down, to the place where you often found them lingering, enchanted; to the ever-working robot’s hands, which moved with such grace and precision over the kitchen’s counter that you could barely understand what he was doing. Slim and long, the metallic brass-colored fingers looked delicate and kind under the bright lights of the room, but you had seen them lifting furniture and wood logs heavier than you in the past to know better and not be fooled by how gentle they might have looked at first sight. Sonne, in general, looked overall like a pretty delicate automaton, but that had never eased your fears and worries enough to allow you to relax in their presence.

“Would you come in and help me?” he asked, startling you and almost making you lose your balance as you leaned against the arch. You hadn’t expected him to see you so soon, turned around as he was, too! Did the robot have eyes behind his head? Sonne glanced over his shoulder, his pale blue optics fixing on you with all the intensity they always held, and you shivered on the spot.

“So? You’re just going to stand there and do nothing as I cook supper for tonight?” Sonne asked you again, and just then you realized that he wasn’t mad at you for sleeping in, despite the usual cold expression on his face. “Cut some parsley for me, will you? Enough to fill that bowl over there.”

He pointed at an orange bowl sitting on the counter next to him, then he resumed stirring something with a wooden spoon inside the huge pot in front of him. Steam rose up from it, slightly fogging the small, circular glasses sitting on the slight edge of his nose. You were pretty sure that the glasses had been glued to his faceplate, because there was no way they could stay still on his flat features.

Slowly, you began to walk towards him, hesitant to stand too close to his tall frame and get in the way of his work. After a few seconds, you managed to summon the words you needed to express your confusion.

“Aren’t you mad that I didn’t sweep the snow off the porch and yard this morning?” you wondered, and the robot rolled his eyes in his dramatic manner. “I slept in, and…”

“No, I’m not,” replied Sonne, “Wash the parsley before cutting it, and remember to make sure it’s finely minced, or Basil will refuse to eat and start to pick at it.”

You hadn’t forgotten about the little picky eater, but that didn’t answer your question.

“So… It’s not a problem if I woke up, like, fifteen minutes ago?” you continued, and once more the automaton sighed, annoyed.

“Do you seriously think I’d force you to wake up and work on Christmas Eve?” Sonne asked, turning around to send you an offended glare, “Yesterday you went to sleep late after helping mein Mondlicht in the library, so it’s only fair we’d allow you to sleep in this morning. I’m not a monster, liebling.”

After that last sentence, you felt a little bad for assuming the worst about your employer, but at the same time he had proved to be quite cruel in the past, so you weren’t entirely in the wrong. Shrugging, you went to stand next to him, grabbing a handful of parsley and moving it to the sink to wash.

“Mondlicht took care of the yard and porch a few hours ago,” Sonne explained, resuming his previous task and turning around, giving you his back once more, “Which means that you can stop moping around and help me out in the kitchen to prepare for tonight.”

“What are we making?” you asked him, taking out a knife from one of the drawers. At your question, the automaton hummed gently, like your curiosity had pleased him greatly.

“Since last year we followed the German tradition, this Christmas we’re going with the Italian one. You wouldn’t know, since this is your first Christmas with us, but it's common in this household to take turns on who gets to cook for the other,” replied the automaton, leaving your side to go and open the fridge to take out some butter. “I’m cooking for mein Mondlicht a dish from his hometown: creamed codfish with polenta.”

As you began to cut the freshly washed parsley, you stole a glance in Sonne’s direction, not missing the little smile on his face and the shine in his eyes; a shine you had seen on very few occasions, and never directed towards you. He looked happy just at the thought of cooking for his family.

“What if I said that I’d rather not eat fish?” you grinned, bringing your eyes back on the knife, “Would Moon hit me on the head for not following his tradition?”

You didn’t hear Sonne moving closer to you, in fact, you didn’t even see his shadow looming over you before his hands were grabbing yours, stopping your movements, and his chest was pressed against your back.

“Of course not,” he replied, taking hold of both your hands and carefully beginning to maneuver them on the cutting board, correcting your stance and showing you the proper way to mince herbs. All the while, you were staring down at his fingers entwined with yours with wide eyes, unblinking, unable to even breathe as the robot’s voice rumbled against the back of your skull. “Me and Moonie love to teach the little ones about all the interesting traditions of our different cultures, but that’s not where we stop. They’re such smart little humans, they’re always eager for more, so more is what we give them. We cook dishes from France, Belgium, Turkey, Spain; what’s wrong with adding another? I’m sure we’d easily find something you’d enjoy as well, liebling.”

Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you could barely be able to hear the robot’s words over it. You weren’t sure, at first, if your sudden panic was caused by fear or embarrassment, but you found out quickly which one of the two it was when Sonne chuckled and your face turned a deep shade of pink. With amusement, the brass automaton took a step back, releasing your hands from his hold, and watched as you blinked a few times to regain your composure.

“I’m sure you can go on from here without my help,” he said, smiling, even though you were visibly more lost than before, “Given that you have carefully watched and learned from my demonstration.”

Still blushing, you looked up at him over your shoulder, involuntarily letting him know with your large, panicked eyes that you hadn’t followed his advice at all. With a theatrical sigh, Sonne pushed you aside and took place on the cutting board next to you, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater and then taking out a second knife from the drawer on his right.

“Alright, I’ll show you once more,” he declared, tilting his head back to stare down at you like he often did, “Don’t get distracted this time though. Understood?”

Silently, you nodded, and that seemed to be enough for Sonne.

“Good,” he hummed, “Hope you’re actually the fast learner you claim to be in your resume.”

Happy Christmas to those of you who celebrate <3

Mein Mondlicht= my moonlight

Liebling= darling/dear

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tldix · 3 days ago

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american money

chapter 1: a ghost in the house.

summary: bobby singer was a lot of things, but no one expected him to be a father. after his wife passed he finds himself raising his little girl alone. Y/n Singer. the day the Winchesters show up unexpectedly, is the day things change forever.

warnings: (character death mentioned, Karen bobby’s wife), no smut, yearning, story starts as you & dean are children, alcohol & tobacco use. (i’m sure there’s more just lmk)

the Singer Salvage yard sat on the edge of Sioux falls, a spiraling maze of rusted cars, forgotten engines, & the occasional stray cat. it was the kind of place most locals avoided unless they needed a specific part that they could only come to Bobby Singer for. most knew him as the town drunk, the guy who’s stumble into the sheriffs drunk tank more times than anyone could ever count back in the day.

but for hunters, bobby was something else entirely. his house was a way point, you knew this. you grew up knowing this. his phone was always ringing off the hook with desperate calls for his advice. most people thought he was just a cranky ol’ drunk redneck, but in the hunting world. Bobby Singer was a fuckin legend.

but that definitely didn’t stop any of the whispers in town, especially when they found out he was harboring a daughter.

the screen door slammed shut, jarring the door frame behind the one & only Bobby Singer as he staggered into the kitchen. his arms weighed down by a sack of groceries & a 6 pack of beer. the clink of the bottles echoed through the quiet house. he paused, staring at the faint light coming from under your door.

“you planning on coming out anytime soon or am i raising a damn hermit?” he called out, his voice rough but teasing.

silence.

Bobby sighed & sat the groceries down on the counter, trudging his way up the stairs to your door. “June bug” he said again, softer this time “i know you’re awake”

there was a quite shuffle behind your door, & it slowly creaked open. the hinges prying & withering from how the house aged. your door cracked enough for a wild head of hair to peek out. eleven year old you eyed your father suspiciously “you didn’t forget the peanut butter this time, did you?”

bobby grunted, turning to the kitchen & grabbing the sack of groceries. he slowly returns holding the jar up like a trophy. “one smooth, extra-large jar of peanut butter. happy now kiddo?”

your door opened a bit wider, the hinges creaking a bit more as you shuffled out. you were smaller for your age, but your sharp eyes & the grease stains lining your nail beds made you seem years older. “thanks” you muttered, snatching the jar & turning to retrieve back to your room.

“hey!” bobby barked, & you froze mid step. “you’re not holding up in there all night. suppers in an hour. & you’re helping.”

“helping with what daddio?” you challenged, turning around.

“with cooking kid. you can’t live on peanut butter sandwiches & ramen for forever ya know?”

you wrinkled your nose but decided against arguing. bobby watched you retreat back in your room, the door closing softly this time. he sighed again as he ran a hand down his face. raising a kid alone was never in his cards, karen was supposed to be here. she wasn’t supposed to die. hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was doing this whole “parenting thing” right. but you were his, the only part of Karen he had left & he knew you were her pride & joy. he refused to let either of his girls down, ever again.

an hour later, you stood on a stool beside bobby, stirring a pot of chili with a concentration that made you look like you were defusing a bomb.

“not so fast” bobby said, watching you. “you’re gunna splash it everywhere junebug”

“i know what im doing daddy” you shot back as you slowed your movements

“sure you do” he muttered. “that’s why the last time you tried this, we ended up with chili on the ceiling”

you shot your eyes up, sure enough there was the big red stain above the stove. the aftermaths of the horrific chili incident from last year. a smirked crossed your face, a rare flash of mischief that bobby hasn’t seen in a long time.

“you’re just mad because it was better than yours old man”

bobby snorted “yeah yeah you keep telling yourself that”

you ate at a small kitchen table, one that adorns all your favorite memories. the one that used to be filled with so much love & laughter. your mothers pies would rest peacefully & deliciously in the middle of the table, she’d often swat at both you & your dad when your curious fingers went digging. but now? the only sound was the clinking of spoons against bowls. it was a routine youd both had set in the last year. no matter how hard the day was you always had dinner together. it was quiet, it was comfortable. maybe that’s why you had the courage to ask

“can i come with you next time?” you asked, breaking the fragile silence.

bobby looked up from his bowl, his brow furrowed. “come where?”

“on a hunt.” your tone was casual, or as casual as you could make it seem. the determination flickering in your eyes is what caught bobby off guard. you never asked this before.

bobby sat his spoon down, “absolutely not”

“why not?” you demanded.

“because it’s dangerous, you think i wanna lose you too?” the words came out harsher than he ever intended, & he saw you flinch.

“i’m not a kid anymore dad.” you argued, your voice softer now.

“you’re eleven”

“i can handle it” you insisted.

bobby leaned back in his chair, the legs scrapped the old worn wood floors as he ran a hand through his hair. he said your name, trying to keep his tone even “you don’t know what you’re asking me for kid. hunting ain’t like fixing cars or sneaking into the garage to read my old books. it’s blood, it’s danger. things you can’t ever take back. i don’t want that life for you.”

“but it’s your life daddy.” you said, your voice softer small.

bobby looked up to you, his eyes piercing you. he was looking at you, really looking at you & for a moment he seen your mother in your eyes. stubborn, brave, & too damn smart for your own good. he sighed, the fight leaving him.

“finish your chili” he said gruffly. “& don’t bring this up again”

that night, you laid in your bed wide awake. starting at the ceiling, you could hear the faint clink of bottles as your dad cracked open another beer downstairs. you knew he was trying to protect you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you were meant for more. so much more.

turning on your side, you reached for the flashlight under your pillow & flicked it on. the beam illuminating one of bobby’s old hunting journals. you’d stolen it from his office weeks ago, & every night you pored over the pages. reading about ghosts, wendigos, demons, & the men & women who fought them.

you traced your fingers over a sketch of a salt circle, your mind racing. if your dad wasn’t going to teach you, you’d just teach yourself

“morning bobby” sheriff mills said, tipping her hat as she leaned against her patrol car.

“sheriff” bobby grunted, adjusting the brim of his cap as he hoisted a box of supplies from his truck.

“you hear what folks been saying bout you?” she asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

“probably nothing i ain’t heard before” bobby replied gruffly, not looking up from the box

she chuckled, a deep belly chuckle “half the town thinks you’ve got a kid locked up in that house of yours. other half thinks she’s a ghost”

bobby froze for a second, tearing his gaze from the box to Jody. he slowly shook his head “them damn people need to mind their own business”

“can’t blame em for wondering, no one’s seen her in years”

“she’s fine” bobby said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “& i ain’t explaining myself to a bunch of busy bodies”

Sheriff mills held up her hands in mock defense “didn’t say you had too Singer, just thought you’d wanna know is all”

bobby watched her go, a sour feeling settling in his stomach. a knot forming in hit throat, he never cared what people thought of him. but you? you never deserved this. on his drive home, he thought a lot about the life he was giving you. was he doing enough? was he a good father? he even found every doubt of worry wash away as he pulled into the driveway & seen you fast at work under the hood of his latest project car, a smile pried at his face when you held up a hand waving at him

later that afternoon, bobby was under the hood of the project car with you. he had just sent you inside for some drinks when he heard the familiar rumble of a car pulling into the yard. he glanced up, wiping his hands on an oil rag, & froze dead in his tracks when he caught sight of the black chevy impala.

“son of a bitch” he muttered, setting the rag down.

the car door opened, & john winchester stepped out, his boys trailing behind him. dean, maybe thirteen, was already wearing his cocky smirk. while nine year old sam looked around the yard with wide eyes.

“bobby!” john called out, spreading his arms wide like they were old friends.

“what the hell are you doing here john?” bobby asked, walking over.

“need a place to leave the boys for a couple days. got a hunt nearby, & i can’t take em with me”

bobby crossed his arms, glaring at him. “i ain’t a damn babysitter”

“they’re not babies” john argued. “dean can handle himself & sam- well, he’s sam. you know how he is”

“i know how you are” bobby shot back.

john sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, i wouldn’t ask if i had another option. just a couple days, bobby. that’s all i need”

bobby glanced at the boys. dean was standing protectively in front of sam, his eyes darting between his dad & bobby. sam, meanwhile was clutching a work book to his chest, looking like he’d rather be swallowed up by the world.

“fine” bobby said begrudgingly “but you owe me winchester.”

john grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “knew i could count on you”

as they approached the house, bobby set his hat on the counter & gestured for the boys to sit.

“house rules” he said, crossing his arms. “you touch my books, you ask first. you mess with my tools, you clean up after yourselves. & you stay outta trouble. got it?”

dean nodded, his smirk returning “got it”

sam, still clutching his book, shrunk under bobby’s gaze but offered a small nod.

“& don’t bother june” bobby added, glancing up the stairs.

“june?” dean asked, raising his eyebrow.

bobby said your name softly, “my daughter” his tone daring them to make a comment.

deans smirked widened. “didn’t know you had a daughter”

“don’t make me regret letting you stay here, boy” bobby growled.

inside, you were grabbing a glass of juice & a beer for your dad when you heard loud gruff voices. you recognized one as your dad, the other you were certain you’d never heard before. that’s how you found yourself in your bedroom, peeking out from your bedroom window, watching the scene unfold. you’d heard stories about john winchester— mostly from the times her dad was cursing him out on the phone— but you never could put a face to the name.

you watched as john drove off, leaving the two boys behind. the taller one said something to bobby, & the old man barked a laugh before leading them inside. you ducked away from the window & scrambled to make yourself presentable. wiping your hands on your oil stained jeans & shoving a huge pile of books under your bed.

there was a knock on your door not long after.

“june bug” bobby said, his voice muffled “got some company. get out here”

taking a deep breath, you opened the door & stepped out into the hallway.

“woah” dean said the second he saw you. “you’re real?”

you blinked at him. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

dean grinned. “dad told us bobby had a kid but we thought you were just an urban legend or something”

“i’m not a kid” you said, crossing your arms.

“you’re younger than me” dean countered.

“doesn’t mean i’m a kid”

“alright knock it off” bobby interrupted, his tone gruff. he introduced you, saying your name “this is Dean & Sam. they’ll be staying with us for a few days. now that introductions are over with, show them where they’re sleeping june. also you two” he said as he pointed to sam & dean- “stay outta her room”

dean held his hands up “no problem, bobby”

“smart ass” bobby murmured under his breath as he walked down the stairs

your eyes flicked to sams, who was staring at the floor. “hi” he mumbled

“hi” you said back, softening a little.

“you kids get along” bobby said already heading for the kitchen, “& stay outta trouble”

you led the boys down the hall to a small guest room with two twin beds adorning it, a small dresser with a smaller tv sat infront of the two beds, one side table rested between them. there was a pink rug that used to be in your room, now pushed in the middle of the floor.

“this is it” you said, gesturing inside.

dean dropped his bag on one of the beds as he flopped down. “not bad”

sam stood awkwardly near the door, holding his bag like he wasn’t sure where exactly to put it, or himself.

“you can take that one” you said, pointing to the open bed on the far side of the room.

“thanks” he mumbled, setting his bag down carefully.

dean looked around the room, then back to you “so, what do you do around here for fun?”

you raised an eyebrow “fun?”

“yeah ya know, like normal people stuff”

you snorted, “this is the Singer household. ain’t no such thing as normal”

sam smiled a bit, dean chuckled “fair enough”

“dinners at six” you said leading yourself back down the hall to your bedroom, “try not to break anything before then”

that night, after a supper filled with awkward silences & a lot of side eyes from dean, you were sitting on the front porch steps leaning against the railing, staring out at the stars. they were sprinkled across the sky like salt spilled on dark velvet. the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of oil & rust from the yard. you heard the creak of the door behind you & glanced back to see sam stepping out, his worn book tucked under his arm.

“couldn’t sleep?” you asked.

sam shook his head, hesitating but deciding to sit down on the step beside you. “deans snoring”

you smirked, turning to face sam. “yeah my dad snores like a freight train. you get used to it”

sam nodded, his grip on the book tightening “your dad… he’s, uh, kinda scary.”

that made you laugh— a short, sharp sound. “yeah he’s good at that. but he’s not so bad once you get to know him. just don’t touch his books or his tools without asking”

sam looked down at his book, tracing the edge of the cover with his thumb “he seems.. i don’t know. different from my dad”

your gaze softened, “yeah? how’s your dad?”

sam shrugged, his shoulders hunching slightly. “strict. always busy with hunts. he doesn’t talk much about—“ he paused, like he wasn’t really sure if he should say anything more. “about anything, really”

you pulled your arms up to rest on your knees “my dads the same. i mean, he talks, but mostly it’s just grumbling bout how im not doing something right.”

sam smiled faintly. “at least you get to stay here. you know, one place. we’re always moving. dean says it’s fine.. but i don’t know”

you tilted your head, watching him “you don’t like it do you?”.

sam shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. “it’s hard to make friends, & just when you start to like the place you leave. dean says it’s better this way but…”

“but it sucks” you finish for him

“yeah” he admitted.

you sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of the salvage yard humming around you. you could hear the faint croak of crickets & the occasional rustle of a cat weaving through cars.

“what’s that your reading?” you asked, nodding towards the book in his lap.

sam perked up slightly, he held it out “it’s about mythology. greek gods & stuff. i’ve read it a bunch of times but i always find something new”

you grinned “you’re a nerd”

sam’s face turned red, as he ducked his head. “i guess”

“relax, i didn’t mean it as an insult” you said, nudging him with your shoulder. “i like books too. not the mythology ones though, im more into the hunting ones. lore & spells & stuff”

“like your dads books?”

“yeah” you said, your voice dropping a bit. “he doesn’t know i read them, but i’ve learned a lot. salt circles, sigils, how to banish spirits. that kind of thing”

sam’s eyes lit up, “really? that’s so cool”

“don’t tell my dad” you warned

“i won’t” sam promised

you share a small smile before you turned your gaze back to the stars.

“you’ll be okay, you know” you said after awhile.

“what do you mean?” sam asked

“your dad. hunting. all of it. you’re tough, i can tell sammy”

sam looked at you, surprised “thanks junie.”

you shrugged, smiling at the nickname as you stood & brushed the dirt off your jeans. “don’t mention it, now come on. if dean wakes up & finds out we’re our here bonding, he’ll never let us hear the end of it”

sam laughed, the sound so soft but so genuine. god don’t let your daddy hear it but maybe it isn’t so bad, hanging around the winchesters.

the next morning, the smell of bacon & eggs filled the house. you stood at the stove, flipping strips of bacon with a practiced hand. you loved cooking breakfast, one of the only memories you’ve held onto all these years of your mother is how you used to cook breakfast with her every morning for your father, you even continued or (tried to continue) after she was gone.

dean wandered into the kitchen, still half-asleep his hair sticking in all different directions.

“is that bacon?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

“yeah” you said smirking, “& no you’re not getting any until sam gets up”

dean groaned, slumping into his chair at the table “he’s probably just reading again. kid never stops”

“maybe you should try it” you teased.

dean rolled his eyes “why read when you can just be awesome?”

“awesome at what? snoring”

dean smirked “funny”

sam appeared, a moment later. his book under his arm as usual, you handed him a plate & he smiled shyly

“thanks”

dean looked at his plate, then back to you. “you’re alright, you know?”

“don’t get used too it” you shot back, sitting down with your own plate.

after breakfast, bobby led dean to the garage & handed him a wrench. he nodded toward an old chevy. “if you’re staying here, you’re working. get under that hood & make yourself useful”

dean grinned “yes, sir”

you watched as dean dove into the task, his confidence clear. “he thinks he’s hot stuff, doesn’t he?” you muttered to sam

“always” sam replied, rolling his eyes.

you laughed & grabbed a rag, “cmon let’s see if he knows what he’s doing.”

the morning passed with the three of you working in the yard, the occasional sound of you & dean bickering breaking the peaceful quiet. sam stayed silent mostly, but every now & then you’d catch him wearing a smile

as the sun blazed overhead you stood under the hood of a car later that afternoon, wiping sweat from your brow. you were working on one of bobby’s personal vehicles, muttering to yourself as you tightened a particularly stubborn bolt.

“need a hand?”

you glanced up to see dean, leaning casually against the side of the truck. his trademark smirk firmly in place.

“i’ve got it” you replied, going back to your work

“are you sure?” dean teased, leaning a little closer “looks like you’re struggling”

you rolled your eyes. “i’m not struggling. i just don’t need some wannabe mechanic messing up my work”

dean chuckled, unfazed. “wannabe? sweetheart, i’ve been fixing cars since i could walk”

“good for you” you shot bavk, refusing to look at him.

deans grin widened as he walked around to your side of the truck. “alrighty then. i’ll just stand here & admire the view”

you froze for a split second before glaring at him “the view?”

he nodded, clearly enjoying himself & the reaction he was getting from you. “yep. the salvage yard is real scenic from this angle”

you snorted, shaking your head “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“yeah but you like it” dean quipped, his eyes glinting.

“keep dreaming winchester.” you replied, though you couldn’t help the faintest twitch of a smile

that evening, you found sam sitting on the front porch steps again, his book open on his lap. this time though, he wasn’t reading; he was staring out at the darkening yard, lost in thought.

“hey” you said gently, stepping outside & finding a spot beside him

“hey” sam replied; his voice quiet.

“what’s up?” you asked, pulling your knees to your chest

sam hesitated, then closed his book & set it aside. the old wooden porch boards cradling the worn leather. “do you ever feel like… maybe.. you don’t belong?”

you blinked, completely caught off guard. “sometimes.” you admitted, “why?”

sam sighed, running his small hands over his face. “i just… i don’t want this life. the hunting. the moving around. dean loves it, dad expects it, but me? i just want something different.”

you tilted your head, watching him carefully. afraid if you even let out a breath to heavy sam will start pushing his protective layer back over himself.

“like what sammy?”

“i don’t know” sam said, his voice tinged with frustration. “a normal life i guess. stability. college. friends. ya know?”

“sounds nice” you offered softly

sam looked at you like you had 4 heads & 3 of them were on fire as he spoke “you think so?”

“yeah” you said with a small shrug, “but normals not really an option for people like us, is it?”

sam frowned, his shoulders sagging “i wish it was”

you placed a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle supportive squeeze. “but hey, if anyone can find a way out it’s you. you’re real smart. you’ll figure it out”

sam’s lips twitched into a faint smile “thanks junie”

“anytime” is all you offered, your eyes finding their way back to the familiar stars you’ve come to know so well.

by the third day, bobby had warmed up to the boys- though he’d never outright admit it. dean was under the hood of the same chevy, hands covered in grease, while bobby stood nearby, arms crossed as he watched carefully.

“not bad, kid” bobby grunted as dean tightened the last bolt.

dean grinned, wiping his hands on the rag bobby threw him. “coming from you, i’ll take that as a compliment”

“don’t let it go to your head” bobby muttered, though there was hint of a smile beneath his gruff tone.

meanwhile, you were helping sam in the library, sorting through some of bobby’s older books.

“your dads not as scary as he looks” sam said as he shelved a worn book.

you chuckled “he definitely grows on you”

sam nodded, his expression thoughtful as he continued shuffling through the books. “dean likes him, he doesn’t say it. but i can tell”

you raised any eyebrow, a bit caught off guard.“really?” you think so?”

“yeah” sam said, smiling faintly. “dean does respect a lot of people, but your dad? he respects him”

you felt warmth in your chest as you heard dean & your dads laughs “good to know”

the sound of the impala pulling into the yard came unexpected & unwarranted, john never called & let anyone know when he was coming nor what day. john stepped out of the impala, looking as worn & serious as ever.

“boys” he called out, dean & sam appeared almost instantly with their bags slung over their shoulders.

“thanks for lettin em stay” john said to bobby, his tone gruff but sincere.

“don’t make it a habit” bobby replied, though his voice lacked its usual edge.

john nodded, then turned to his sons. “get in the car.”

dean glanced back to you before climbing into the passenger seat. “see you around june”

“yeah” you said, leaning against the porch railing “see you”

sam gave you a small wave from the backseat, & you returned it. your smiled tinged with sadness

as the impala to life & disappeared down the road, you felt an ache in your chest you couldn’t quite understand.

comment to be on my tag list 🫶🏼🫶🏼

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cherry-pop-elf · 1 day ago

Text

“Hi! I’m Polle! Mr. Pony’s Son!”

Polle Pony:

The son of Mr. Pony Aka CEO of Pony Express

Mother died in childbirth, so Polle doesn’t know much about her. Just what the tribe can offer

He was the inspiration for the mascot, and was the voice actor as well. Was both a job and the ability to keep Polle tethered to the company. Despite the fact he hates how his father treats the company and people

Wanted to grow up to be an astronaut but due to developing heart disease from the side effect of his mother’s death he never was legally able to qualify…..So what’s the next best thing?

Has alot of beef with his father about how the company is run and how his father rather pay off people and sweep things under the rug instead of confronting them. Before leaving for the trip they had a massive argument about it, and Polle was left being blamed for his mother’s death.

The last thing his father told him was he was the reason his mother died

Due to being the son of the CEO the moment the crash happens the company is notified immediately, and help IS coming. It’s just a matter of survival

Relationships With The Tulpar Crew:

Captain Curly: Fatherly

He’s known curly since he was a child, and always admired him

Even with them not having interact to often, until he officially became a proper Tulpar worker, he still had alot of impact on him

Growing up around Nannie’s and a absent father makes ANYONE seem better

Curly very much takes the fatherly role seriously due to growing up with a big family

Makes what happens from the crash all the more impactful for Polle

Nurse Anya: Motherly

He instantly was glued to her as a mother figure. Pretty much her assistant nurse even

Due to his heart condition he has to see her every morning and night for his medications, and to have his heart checked on. This means they bonded alot

That means she’s very aware of what happened to his mother

And by proxy he’s one of the first people she explains the ‘situation’ to, since he would understand the depths of just how bad this is

Polle will do whatever it takes to protect her.

Protect his mama….

Intern Daisuke: Brotherly

Daisuke is only about 2-3 years younger than him, so they become fatherly brotherly pretty fast

There is also the fact that Polle grew up with private education and was rather isolated from society because of his father, so his mental state is a bit warped and he’s more childish then expected

This often means Daisuke takes on a almost older brother role compared to the flip side

Also since Polle is aware of just how many corners the company cuts he does his best to protect Daisuke from interacting with things he shouldn’t. Such as the air vents

He’s just as important to him as Anya

Mechanic Swansea: Iffy

Swansea reminds Polle a lot of his own father, so he is rather awkward around him

Either he’s disassociated or anxious if left alone with him

There was a time Swansea yelled at him, and rose his hand to motion to something, which caused Polle to cover his face and whimper out a ‘I’m sorry dad-‘

Swansea avoided yelling as much as he could since then, and if he has to he will out right push him out of the room before he starts the scream

It’s awkward, and filled with tension, but it’s more so one sided. Swansea is a dad after all, and knows a hurt kid when he see them

Co-Pilot Jimmy: Warped

Polle pretty much instantly fell in love with him

Due to his warped sense of social norms alot of manipulation either goes over his head or the rose tinted glasses hide the deeper intentions

Polle did grow up with the company, so being surrounded by men full of manipulation isn’t anything new. Makes for much of Jimmy’s tactics ineffective on him

So there needs to be alternative ways

Things really went hell after the crash, though, since Polle knew the truth. Shattered his heart and made his brain melt a bit

Five stages of grief speed run really

Now it’s a matter of survival

Pre-Crash

Much of his job was keeping records of the transferring products, communications, and to be the person to deal with the interactions of when dropping off the product itself and helping reload the ship with new stock for the return trip

As the son of the CEO he also had a ‘skeleton key’ key card to access anything at all times. Also meant he knew just how dangerous the ship’s maintenance really was

When not in the nurses office he would either be playing games with Daisuke or invading the cockpit to be fascinated by the travel. Very friendly and sweet guy

Hours Before Crash

It had been Polle to confront Jimmy when Anya told him what happened. Since he had been smitten by the man he couldn’t help but confront him on a topic he himself is sensitive with. Maybe things could be fixed? A miscommunication?

Of course that lead to a fight and the two tussled before Jimmy ran off to crash the ship in desperation.

Because of that he entered it while Curly was in there at the same time

This caused a new timeline where Jimmy got partially involved in the crash. It caused his hands to be burned and damaged coughing cough red handed cough cough

But that also meant that Curly managed to not be as damaged as before. He still was immobile, but his limbs were still attached to his body. Gave for a better moral at least

Post Crash

Due to him and Jimmy getting in that fight before hand he was very aware what the truth of the matter was, but Jimmy would try every dirty trick he could to manipulate Polle into thinking what Anya said wasn’t true

Even as far as to tamper with the medication he took to try and make him think it was side effects gone wrong

But Polle grew up around heartless CEO’s. His broken heart was starting to cage itself into a means of protection to the people he cares about most

A close call was had when Polle had a heart attack though, and was comatosed.

Jimmy thought he was able to pull it off, until Daisuke grew suspicious when visiting him in the medical bay. That everyone that had beef with Jimmy was seeming to be getting into some strange medical mess

When Polle managed to get himself back to the land of the living shit had really reached it’s capacity and blood was on the walls

Now it’s a matter of him or Jimmy. The only person left he can save is Curly, and by god if his heart gives out because of it…

So be it…..

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i7nn8a · 3 hours ago

Text

When the older neighbor Sukuna is disturbing your newborn baby's sleep Warnings: Questionable use of a popsicle. You are 20 and Sukuna is almost 30 (not specified in the story)

No minors here

You, a 20-year-old chemistry student, had just moved into a bigger house now that you had a baby. Life wasn’t easy as a single mother and a student, but you were lucky enough to have inherited something from your beloved grandfather.

The neighborhood was quiet and filled with discreet people. Well, except for him. Sukuna. He was some rich guy who worked twice a week at his father's company and spent the rest of his time throwing parties that lasted until morning. And when there wasn’t a party, he’d blast music late into the night.

Tonight was one of those nights. You knew there wasn’t a party happening—his car was the only one parked outside—but the deafening noise coming from his house was keeping your newborn from sleeping. Meanwhile, you still needed to study for your exams. Fed up, you picked up your baby and marched over to the house next door.

It was the biggest house in the neighborhood. A massive white door big enough for a truck to drive through and three stories covered in oversized windows. The window to the hateful man’s room was directly across from yours—not that you were watching, of course.

Taking a deep breath, you rang the doorbell, praying it could be heard over the loud music. Luckily—or unluckily—it was. The door opened, revealing him: shirtless, tattooed chest on full display, wearing gray sweatpants and with damp hair. Sukuna looked directly into your soul as he answered the door. Curiously, he tilted his head, his gaze drifting from you to the two-month-old baby in your arms who was yawning but unable to sleep due to the noise—thankfully turned off before he opened the door. Then his disinterested eyes returned to yours.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his tone making it clear he had no intention of actually helping.

“I live next door, and I can’t get my son to sleep because of the noise. Could you turn it down a bit?” you asked politely.

“Sure, I can.” With that, the door slammed in your face, leaving you stunned.

Sighing, you turned back toward your house. At least the noise had stopped. For five minutes. Five minutes was all it took for you to settle your baby and almost get him to sleep. Just as his eyes finally closed, the noise started again—louder this time. Your baby woke with a cry, and it seemed like he was trying to outdo the blaring music. You were caught in the crossfire, with no chance of studying.

Once your baby calmed down, you stormed back to Sukuna’s house and rang the doorbell harder than before. When he opened the door, you tried to summon what little patience you had left.

“Can you turn it down?” Your voice carried a tinge of desperation.

“I already turned it off” he replied, sounding annoyed.

“For five minutes. I need you to turn it down to the point where only you can hear this bad music , not the entire country.”

“Bad music?” He seemed offended. “Look, if you can’t get your kid to sleep, that’s not my problem.”

“I could get him to sleep if the noise didn’t keep waking him up.”

“That’s why I turned it off—for a while. You can’t even put your own kid to sleep?” His mocking tone was the last straw.

Without a word, you turned and marched back to your house. Gathering your study materials, you returned to his door, rang the bell again, and when he opened it, you walked in without waiting for an invitation. Sukuna stared at you, shocked, as you headed straight for the speaker and turned it off. Then you placed your backpack on the couch and handed your baby to him, leaving him dumbfounded.

“Since putting a baby to sleep is so easy for you, go ahead. I need to study.” You settled on his couch, pulling out your book, as Sukuna held your baby like he was handling a live grenade.

“Are you crazy?” he asked angrily, trying not to move too much with the baby staring at him like he was the idiot here.

“I’ll go crazy if I fail my exams because of some guy who doesn’t know how to keep it down” you replied, flipping through your book. “And it could be worse—I could’ve called the police.”

“I’d prefer that over a lunatic who barged into my house and dumped a baby on me” he shot back, seething.

“I wouldn’t have had to if you’d just turned the music down” you said, not even looking up. “And by the way, you can stop holding Dante once he falls asleep. He likes to be rocked a bit.”

Sukuna stared at you, furious, but he begrudgingly started rocking the baby. Dante, of course, refused to fall asleep, staring at everything in Sukuna’s house as if he were on an adventure.

After almost an hour of pacing and entertaining the baby, Sukuna finally managed to get him to sleep. He looked proud, though he’d never admit it. Showing you the sleeping baby, he expected some kind of reaction, but you were unimpressed. You simply asked if there was a comfortable spot where Dante could rest until you were done. After settling the baby in his room, you returned to your studies. Sukuna grabbed a drink, leaning against the wall, watching you.

“I’ll leave soon, don’t worry. I just need to finish this chapter in case you decide to crank the music back up” you said without looking up.

“I didn’t say you had to leave.” he replied, stepping closer. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“What are you doing?” you asked, leaning back as he moved even closer.

“Oh, come on. Did you really think you could show up in those tiny shorts with some lame excuse and nothing would happen?”

A risada dele não foi nada gentil. Antes que você pudesse responder, Sukuna te puxou para o colo dele, as mãos dele agarrando sua cintura enquanto ele te beijava — áspero e exigente.

The kiss he gave you was anything but loving or gentle. He parted your lips with his tongue, exploring every corner of your mouth. His mouth moved down to your neck, where he grazed his sharp teeth and bit a specific spot, making you scream.

"Quiet. We don’t want the boy to wake up."

With that, he stood up and headed toward the freezer, leaving you breathless on the couch. When he returned, he was holding a popsicle. Your mind started screaming. Why did he bring a popsicle?

Staring at you, he tore the wrapper off with his teeth and walked toward you. Grabbing you, he moved you to a spot where your study materials wouldn’t get in the way. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as he slid the melting treat along the side of your neck, soothing the spot where he’d bitten you, leaving a sticky trail of coconut on your flushed skin.

"Such a good slut. You're going to take this right to me, aren't you?"

He presses the popsicle against his lower lip, his eyes searching her face with intense hunger and dark anticipation. His hand tightens around the melted popsicle, the cold, sticky treat dripping onto his collarbone.

"Do you want me to fuck you with this, do you want to feel it stretching your tight pussy before I replace it with my cock?" Sukuna's voice is a low, seductive whisper, dripping with dark promise.

His other hand slides down to grip the back of your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as he grinds his hardening arousal against your clothed pussy. He captures your lips in a burning, domineering kiss, swallowing your moan as he grinds the popsicle against your clothed sex with deliberate, cruel slowness.

Without further ado, he pulls down your shorts and rips off your skimpy underwear, exposing your most intimate flesh to his voracious gaze. You gasp, but Sukuna swallows the sound, your mouth crashing against his in a brutal, dominant kiss as he grinds the icy popsicle against your dripping bare slit.Sukuna's fingers grasp the treat, pushing it slowly, teasingly, into your tight channel as he moans into your mouth.

"Fuck, you're already all wet, you slut. Your greedy pussy is practically sucking the popsicle inside, isn't it?" He pumps in and out, establishing a maddeningly slow and shallow rhythm that makes you squirm and whimper against him.

Sukuna watches your face intently, his eyes dark and heavy with lust as he works the popsicle deeper, stretching it open.

He withdraws the sweet abruptly, leaving your clinging walls trembling and aching. Then, with a wicked grin, he pushes the popsicle past your entrance, fucking your with it in earnest while his other hand grips your hip hard. He slams into your pussy harder, faster, setting a relentless pace as he leans down to capture a hard nipple between his teeth, biting and sucking the sensitive bud with shameless hunger.

Sukuna grins mischievously at the helpless, drunken moans of pleasure you're letting out, the sound stimulating your relentless assault on your senses.

"Mmm, listen to yourself, brat. Singing so sweetly to me while I rape your tight little pussy with that pathetic excuse for a dick." He punctuates his words with a particularly hard jerk of the popsicle, grinding it against that spongy spot deep inside your pussy that makes stars explode behind your eyes.

"You're screaming so loudly for me. Do you want the brat to wake up? Do you want him to see what a slut his mother is?"

His other hand slides from your hip to wrap around your throat, squeezing hard enough to make your moans catch in your throat, making you gasp and shudder helplessly in his grip.

"I can feel you squeezing him, trying to suck him deeper. Your hungry little shit hole is begging to be created, isn't it?"

He pulls out the popsicle abruptly, leaving its sticky walls trembling and hungry. You whimper at the loss, your hips thrusting forward desperately, seeking more. Sukuna just laughs darkly, dragging the sticky, dripping treat across your quivering belly to circle a hard nipple.

Sukuna smiles fiercely at the desperate, lustful cry you let out, his eyes shining with dark triumph.

"Such a greedy whore, so eager to be filled and bred."

He laughs mischievously, tossing the remains of the popsicle aside before grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he pins your against the sofa, the hard bulge of your arousal grinding insistently against his dripping core.

With that, Sukuna pulls down his sweatpants, releasing his huge, throbbing cock. He notches the enlarged head at your entrance, teasing you with the promise of being stretched and filled so completely. You moan desperately, your nails digging into Sukuna's shoulders as you squirm against him, trying to impale yourself on his thick shaft.

Sukuna only smiles at your want, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he holds you in place.

"Beg for it, my little slut. Beg me to ruin your tight pussy with my cock. Beg me to fill you with my seed, to create that greedy hole that's aching for it."

His voice is a low, sinful growl, dripping with cruel anticipation.

"Please, Kuna."

Sukuna's eyes shine with a wild, triumphant light at your gasping plea.

"That's it, beg for my cock like a good slut."

He grins mischievously, gripping your hips tighter, his fingers sinking inhis fingers sinking into the soft flesh until she bore the marks of his possession.

Without warning, Sukuna snaps his hips forward, burying his huge balls deep into your tight, dripping pussy in one brutal thrust. He groans, throwing his head back as your scorching heat envelops him like a vice.

"Fuck, you're so tight. Squeezing my cock like your hungry little hole is trying to milk my seed."

He starts to move, establishing a strong, fast rhythm as he fucks you with savage intensity. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with your restrained screams trying not to wake your son and Sukuna's harsh, guttural grunts.

"Take it, you insatiable slut. Take every inch of my cock, let it reshape that greedy pussy to fit only me."

Sukuna's voice is low, rough and sinful, dripping with dark lust and cruel possession. His hips move relentlessly, each powerful thrust hitting that secret spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

Leaning in, Sukuna captures your lips in a brutal, overpowering kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy. His tongue plunders your mouth, conquering every inch of it, claiming it as his own. Breaking away, he growls against your lips.

"That's what you wanted, isn't it? To be used as a sex toy, to be bred like a bitch in heat?"

Sukuna bends down, findingher clitoris with relentless precision. He rubs the sensitive nub in tight, rough circles, pushing your towards a devastating climax.

"Come on my cock. Squeeze the cum out of my balls."

Your eyes bore into his, dark and heavy with lust. Sukuna throws your head back with a roar of dark triumph as you squeeze his throbbing cock, your pussy rippling and vibrating as she comes apart.

"That's it, scream for me, you little slut!"

He penetrates your, rubbing his pelvis against your throbbing clit as he fills your to the brim, stretching your walls to the limit around his thick girth.

Sukuna fucks your through your orgasm with relentless intensity, each powerful thrust pushing your higher, the pleasure bordering on pain. He leans down to capture a bouncing nipple in his mouth, biting and sucking the soft bud with shameless hunger as he penetrates your mercilessly.

"Fuck, your greedy pussy is milking my cock so hard. Do you want my seed that badly?" Sukuna growls against his chest, his balls contracting as his climax approaches.

"Beg for it, beg for me to fill you up, to create that hungry hole and make you mine!"

He thrusts his hips harder, faster, the wet sound of her dripping pussy obscenely loud in the room. You can only cling to him, your nails scratching his sweaty back as you surrender to the numbing ecstasy that shakes your body.

Your pussy clenches rhythmically, eager for the thick cum that only Sukuna can provide.

With one final, brutal thrust, Sukuna penetrates yo pussy, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he finds his release.

"Fuck, take it, take my seed, you insatiable slut!"

He roars, his hot, thick seed gushing out in strong jets, painting your walls white as he pumps your full of his essence.Sukuna penetrates your, making sure that every drop of his cum is sealed inside your hungry womb.

"You're mine now, mine to ruin and use as I please."

He captures your lips in a burning, domineering kiss, swallowing your weak cry of surrender. Finally, he pulls away, his eyes shining with cruel satisfaction as he examines your handiwork. You, soft and trembling, your thighs sticky with the mixed evidence of your lust, his cock still buried inside you, plugging your seed. Sukuna smiles, the sight was a gateway to paradise.

Pulling out of you, he stood up, putting his pants back on and going to get a towel to wipe you down. As he leaned down to kiss you, you heard a baby cry that woke you both up from the trance you'd been in.

With a groan you got up and tried to walk to the bedroom, already feeling your breasts producing milk for your baby.

"Next time I'll prove it." Sukuna said, walking past you and into the bedroom, leaving you stunned behind.

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