#The continual cycle of oh there are definitely ways to fix this

[rotzaprachim]

The continual work cycle of well a lot could be done about this. If we could swallow the pills that

a) food wastage is money for corporations. It’s still good that’s been purchased by a grocery store or again by home use. There’s a profit margin that comes from excess and inefficiency. (True of many other materials. There are massive incentives for producers of many products *not* to design maximally efficient systems because it leads to overpuchasing at some level

b) it’s Better for people to eat food for free (or wear clothes for free etc etc) than for it to get thrown out

[lokissweater]

miss pretty

{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}

summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.

warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.

word count: 11.4k

authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333

katsuki bakugo hated messes.

“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”

“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.

“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”

“mhm!” he chirped.

“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”

“yup yup!”

and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.

that was of course, until he met you.

katsuki shoved through the other parents in line as he went up to the front desk in the main office with a grip on his sons little hand, not giving a damn about the glares and huffs of bewilderment he got as there was no way in hell he was gonna wait like an idiot with the rest of them.

the lady at the front desk raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“can i help—”

“where the fuck is room twenty four.”

her eyes bulged open as the rest of the parents in line softly gasped and murmured.

“e—excuse me?—”

he rolled his eyes.

“room twenty four.” he pushed. “where is it?”

“sir— if you need me to help you i’d like you to wait in line until—”

“hah?! absolutely not.” he spat. “if i wait in that fucking line my son’s gonna be late why can’t you just tell me—”

“uh sir if you could—”

katsuki’s son giggled as he continued to spout profanities at the poor front desk lady.

“—sir please no foul language there are children around—”

“i don’t give a shit! just tell me where room twenty four is what the hell is so hard about that?!—”

“oh! that’s my class!”

katsuki snapped his head over, fiery red eyes shooting towards the voice until they landed on yours.

“is he one of my kids?” you smiled sweetly, eyes coming down to look at his son.

“oh—” he let his shoulders relax just a tad as he watched you fix the strap of his sons backpack on his shoulder. “i mean— if your class is twenty four—“

“it is!” you beamed, nudging your head. “i’ll show you where!”

“hiii miiiissss!” his son greeted, happy and silly as he followed you down the hall.

“hi honey!” you gushed, just as excited as he was as you patted over his blonde scruffy hair. “what’s your name?”

“milo!”

“nice to meet you milo! are you excited for your first day?”

“yeaaahh!” he cheered, smile bright as he grabbed your hand.

katsuki’s eyes widened.

“milo!” he snapped lowly. “what’d i tell ya? you can’t grab her hand like that you have to ask—”

“oh it’s alright!” you dismissed, smiling. “i don’t mind it at all! the other kids do it too.”

milo snickered and stuck his little tongue out at his dad, and katsuki rolled his eyes.

“is he yours?” you asked kindly, tilting your head.

“who else would he be…” he grumbled.

“i guess you’re right!” you giggled. “he looks just like you.”

katsuki’s eyes flickered to yours before dropping back down, a permanent furrow in his brows as you all rounded the corner.

“here we are—”

“ooo! ooo!” milo hopped up and down. “miss you have race cars?! dad can i please go?!”

he looked over, a mountain of toys scattered about in the classrooms play area, little kids already making a damn mess and the school day hadn’t even officially started yet.

“the hell you asking me for? ask your tea—”

“miss miss can i please go play with the race cars?!—”

“of course my love! go! go have fun.” you smiled, gently ushering him on before milo zoomed over to the play area and crouched down with the rest of the kids.

“oi!” katsuki barked. “put them away when you’re done!”

he huffed under his breath as he watched his son give him a thumbs up and fucking dump the entire bucket of race cars down on the ‘abc’ play rug, taking one in each hand and dragging them across floor.

“he’s so cuteee.” you grinned. “i’m glad he’s not afraid being it’s his first day.”

“oh fuck no.” he mumbled. “milo doesn’t care. the little runt doesn’t have a filter and does whatever the hell he wants without askin’ sometimes.”

he leaned against the doorsill as he watched milo converse with another kid and share a car, satisfaction in his chest that his son was sharing and being nice.

“but i guess he gets that from me.” he finished off.

you nodded. “but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

he pursed his lips.

“in my experience, not really.”

you hummed.

“i think it’s definitely a good thing… i’d rather be assertive of things and not be afraid of what the consequences will be.”

katsuki looked at you, properly this time.

“what’s a kindergarten teacher afraid of?”

you shrugged, a slow playful grin spreading across your face.

“parents.”

he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and you quickly had to look away, a pink buzz to your cheeks at the way his big built arms flexed.

inappropriate inappropriate inappropriate—

“i don’t know how you do it..” he spoke lowly.

“do what?”

“take care of little shits all day.”

you laughed loudly, reeling over a bit as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“i don’t take care of them! i teach them.” you quipped cutely. “they’re small, but this is when their brains drink up the most knowledge… and i love to see the progress from the beginning of the year compared to the end! i love it all really.”

pure.

katsuki curtly nodded, your sweet positive ambiance throwing him completely off, as he doesn’t think he’s ever met or surrounded himself around someone who’s directly emmitted the feeling of sunshine and rainbows and candy as much as you did.

and his cheeks flared up for some reason.

“oh!” you looked to the time on your little wrist watch and walked inside your classroom. “it’s almost time to start! i have to wrangle them all in their seats heh!”

katsuki swallowed and nodded.

“milo!”

he turned and upon seeing his dad wave him over, milo dropped his toys and bounded to him.

“don’t give her a hard time alright?” he spoke sternly, nudging his head over at you for emphasis. “listen. listen and learn and be the best one in there.”

“kaaayyy!”

“and you let me know if any of the other kids mess with you or you deal with it yourself. you already know how—”

“beat the crap out of them!” he cheered loudly and katsuki’s hand flew to clasp over his sons mouth before his frantic eyes looked at you.

the last thing he needed was someone to call up fucking child protective services on him.

“he’s joking! he’s joking… fuck.”

you giggled hard and clutched your stomach, your pretty smile sending katsuki for a loop.

“no you’re absolutely right!” you waved your hands in front of your face, reassuring. “treat others the way you want to be treated, so if someone’s being mean to you, bite back milo, okay? and also let me know first though!”

katsuki gave you a wobbly tiny smile amidst his branded serious face, looking at his son then and ruffling up his hair.

“okay, go.” milo ran off. “and don’t let me pick you up with dirt all over your clothes ya hear me?!”

“byeee daaaddd!”

you could tell that behind his harsh exterior— the slight purse of his lips, stiff frame and bouncing leg gave away that he was only worried about his kid and his first day of school, a sight you’ve seen time and time again since you started working as a kindergarten teacher, and one that never failed to warm your heart.

“don’t worry!” you sweetly smiled, and katsuki switched his gaze over to yours. “i’ll watch him especially… okay? to ease the nerves.”

he softly snorted, attempting to play it off but internally relieved as he pushed himself off the doorsill and nodded, thankful that the teacher milo got was as kind as you.

“um…” he mumbled. “katsuki.”

you tilted your head. “katsuki?”

“it’s my name idiot.”

“oh!” you giggled, a blush rising in your cheeks again as you tried to simmer it down. “nice to meet you katsuki! i’ll see you after school then with milo?”

he stiffly nodded, the way his name sounded so sugary off your tongue something he’d never heard before in his life or was used to at all.

“…ya gonna tell me yours or what?”

“sorry!” you sputtered, laughing nervously. “sorry it just— flew! you know—”

you stuck your hand out and offered it to him.

“y/n!”

katsuki untangled his arms and firmly shook it, grip strong and one that nearly made you stumble forward as you caught yourself and smiled.

“i’ll see you katsuki!”

out of all of the kids you’ve taught, milo was by far the cutest one.

the little man was like your personal assistant— a little bee buzzing around as he followed you everywhere in the classroom and helped you clean up after the rest of the kids that didn’t, ‘yelling’ at some of them to and cutely scolding them whenever he’d catch them leave some things behind, and was always on watch for you like a security guard with his little balled up fists on his hips, surveilling the classroom for any misbehaving kids or messes that you’d missed throughout the day.

all traits you no doubt knew he got from katsuki, even if you had just met him. it was pleasantly obvious.

“thanks for helping me out today, milo!” you gushed, pushing another students chair in as they all sat down and chattered for lunch. “you made my job a lot easier!”

“really?!” he squealed, big glimmering eyes beaming up at you before he happily chowed down on some apple slices.

and you noticed then milo’s lunch was insane, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut up and molded neatly into the shape of panda bears, his watermelon and apple slices shaped like stars with carrots and celery lined up with a little wedge of lemon if he wished, tiny rice balls on the side for a little snack you figured in case what he had didn’t fill him up— all so considerate and careful…

“wow!” you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. “your lunch looks so yummy my love! did your mommy make this?”

“nuh uh!” he shook his head, cheeks filled with watermelon. “my dad did!”

you faltered.

“katsuki made this?”

“who’s katsuki miss?” he asked curiously, sipping on his little juice box after swallowing the fruit in his mouth.

you giggled. “nothing! nothing. enjoy your lunch okay?”

you went to stand, but milo’s hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“can you— can you eat lunch with me?” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with some carrot pieces in his hands. “please.. i always eat with my dad but he’s not here…”

your eyes softened and you quickly nodded.

“of course! let me just go grab my lunch and ill bring it over! sounds good?”

“yaaaayyyy!” he cheered happily, arms up as you scooched a tiny chair over from a nearby table and sat with him, laughing at his cute expression.

you knew you shouldn’t use a little kid to pry… but you were guiltily curious as to know if katsuki was married or not for reasons that made you ridiculously flustered and red in the face over.

and you wanted to be respectful in case he was… since the ogling you did at his muscles this morning through his black ribbed tank was the most embarrassing moment of your career and one you hadn’t seen coming at all, it catching you off guard and feeling horrible if katsuki indeed had a wife.

but he didn’t have a ring on his finger…

“milo?” you spoke up softly.

he smiled big. “yes miss!”

“does your mommy make you lunch as well or just your dad?”

he shook his head. “just my dad! i don’t have a mom.”

your shoulders deflated.

he didn’t have a mom… at all?

you slowly reached over then and patted his blonde hair, smiling warmly as his cheeks went pink. “that’s alright! i’m sure your dad makes you lunches like this every time huh?”

“yeah!” he gasped excitedly. “yesterday he made pizzas and cut them into dinosaurs! it was so cool! and then!— and then this morning for breakfast i had waffles that looked like dynamite blasts!”

“oh my goodness!” you giggled, your heart absolutely thumping over the fact that katsuki was so dedicated to his son like that. “man, i wish my lunches were as cute as yours!”

his little eyes snapped to yours.

“i’ll tell him!”

your brows furrowed confusedly. “wha—”

“to make you lunch! i’ll tell my dad to make you lunch!”

your eyes widened and you frantically shook your head, cheeks blazing as you laughed. “oh no my love! that’s totally okay don’t worry about me silly—”

“i’ll tell him i’ll tell him i’ll tell him!—”

“milo it’s okay! i’m a big girl.” you grinned. “i’m supposed to make my own lunches.”

milo grumbled and plopped a carrot in his mouth, begrudgingly chewing as he sat there in thought.

“…will you at least let me share some of mine?”

you pouted at his generosity, wondering how a kid could be so sweet as you nodded and held your hand up.

“of course sweetie! whatever you wa—”

milo plopped all of his peanut butter sandwiches in your palm and grinned, earning a gasp from you.

“milo this is too much i can’t—”

“eat it! eat it! eait it!—”

by the end of the day, you managed to get milo to take back his sandwiches in exchange for one singular watermelon star piece, him still doing his regular duties of being your little assistant and helping you clean up after everyone before the final bell rang signaling the end of class, you carefully making sure each kiddo got their designated backpack (as there was often a mix up) and art pieces they made for their parents to take home— a permission slip for the end of the year field trip tucked away inside their bags.

and the minute you stepped outside with the rest of the kids, you were surprised to see that katsuki was one of the first parents there as he stood directly across from your classroom with crossed arms, an angry usual scowl on his face that made you laugh to yourself as you led your kids to sit down on a bench in a single file line until their parents physically came to get them or their vehicles pulled up.

“milo!” you tapped his shoulder gently. “your daddy’s over there!”

“DAAADDD!!”

milo jumped up and ran across the grass, his tiny arms out as katsuki smiled softly and crouched down to pick his son up and settle him on his lower abdomen, you wringing your fingers behind your back and walking up to them.

“were you a brat?” he grunted.

“nope!”

“did any kids mess with you?”

“nope!”

“did you leave a mess?”

“nope!”

you giggled, and katsuki’s eyes snapped in your direction.

“how was he?”

“he did so good!” you gushed, patting milo’s back as he grinned. “was my little helper and everything! didn’t leave a single mess behind and helped me clean up after everyone else… he even made sure everyone was paying attention and not misbehaving.”

“yeah! yeah! see dad?” milo poked his dads cheek. “i didn’t lie!”

“never said you lied you little runt.” he scowled. “…but good job.”

“thanks!”

katsuki set him down after milo started kicking his legs and saying something about the swings, him instantly running towards the playground and to the slide.

“did he actually do all of that?” he spoke up.

“oh yes!” you quickly nodded. “i’ve never had a kid do that before so it was really nice of him to!”

you detached your fingers from around your back and fiddled with them.

“you teach him well katsuki.”

he scoffed and turned his head, cheeks pink as he tried to regain his composure.

“damn right i do.”

you giggled then, the memory of milo telling you he didn’t have a mother suddenly popping into your mind as you watched him happily slide down the blue slide head first.

“hey i don’t mean to um..” you timidly began. “i don’t mean to pry but—”

katsuki raised a brow at you and you snapped your mouth shut.

“nothing! nothing nevermind—”

“spit it out.”

“no it’s alright! sorry i—”

he glared and you cowered, smiling bashfully as you bit your bottom lip.

“milo… milo mentioned that he didn’t have a mommy? i was just— wondering if that was true…”

“tch—” he shook his head. “that’s what you were afraid of askin’ me?”

“i told you i’m scared of parents…” you slumped cutely, and he chuckled.

“it’s just me and him.” he answered. “his mom’s never been a part of our lives.”

your heart sunk a little, eyes sad as your gaze shifted to milo playing and racing around with another kid.

“don’t do that.”

you jumped and looked at katsuki.

“do— do what—”

“look all sad and shit.”

he hesitantly reached over and planted an index finger to the crease between your brows, the feeling rough as he tried to gently drag it down and smooth over the lines.

“it’s fine.” he grumbled, letting his arm fall to his side. “it doesn’t bother him. at least i don’t think it does.”

“no!” you spoke quickly, a crazed blush on your cheeks. “it doesn’t! and milo speaks so highly of you… especially the lunches you make him.”

his brows furrowed. “his lunch?”

“yeah!” you nodded excitedly. “you prepare it so so well! how do you get his sandwiches to look like little bears? and his fruit?! every time i try to cut mine into stars they always break in half…”

he huffed out a laugh, finding your little whine funny as he reached over and ruffled up your hair, you smiling cheekily in response.

“do you use molds?” you asked politely. “to shape out the bear?”

“fuck no.” he scoffed. “i do it myself.”

your eyes flew open.

“what?! so that’s really just you? and the dinosaurs too? the pizza dinosaurs? and the waffles? the ones that looked like dynamite blasts—”

“jesus christ how much did that kid tell you?”

your face grew hot as you smacked a hand over your mouth.

“sorry!” you giggled. “i just was thinking— that his lunch was really cute and thoughtful…” you took your hand away from your face. “i’m really glad that you do little things like that for milo to make him happy.”

katsuki stared at you, your swarm of compliments and sweetness and sunshine and butterflies almost suffocating as you looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, his throat oddly closing up the longer he stared right back and allowed you to pull him into your world of wonder and abc blocks and puzzles.

but it wasn’t suffocating in a bad way, not at all.

and… maybe he did want you to pull him in.

“dad dad dad!”

milo ran over, sweaty and red faced as he reached the two of you.

“there’s a dead lizard in the slide!”

“a dead lizard?” you laughed, surprised as you reached for his little water bottle from his backpack on the ground and uncapped the lid, handing it over and ushering him to drink.

katsuki didn’t know why the domestic sight of you doing that made him melt a bit.

a bit.

“yeah miss! it was big and gross.” he breathed out after gulping some of his icy cold water. “but i buried him!”

his dads red eyes snapped down to his and narrowed.

“don’t tell me you touched that thing milo.”

“i did!” he giggled.

“oh my fucking god—” katsuki snatched his hand and started pulling him to the car as milo giggled and stuck his tongue out.

“it’s a prank! some other girl in my class did… but i helped with the dirt!”

you chuckled softly as you watched katsuki stop and roll his eyes, coming back over to you with a hyper milo.

“say bye to your teacher ya little runt. and you’re still taking a shower when you get home!”

“but i don’t wanna take a showeerrr!” milo whined, letting go of his dads hand and running to you, you crouching and extending your arms big with a pretty smile.

“bye my love!” you hugged him tight as he giggled. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? and give your daddy a break. no more digging up dirt and playing with dead lizards.”

“kaayyyy!”

you both let go and he stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before bouncing back to his dad.

katsuki choked on his spit.

“oi!” he barked. “you can’t just kiss her cheek milo the hell is going on with you?!—”

“it’s okay don’t worry!” you smiled kindly. “he’s just being sweet is all! i don’t mind.”

“you sure?” he pushed, milo snickering. “i—”

you waved him off and wrung your fingers behind your back, leaning forward.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning kats!”

and he froze, nodding hard as he quickly took milo’s hand and backpack before walking to the car, his heart completely aflame in his chest and cheeks red as he led his babbling son further into the parking lot and inside the car, buckling him up in his car seat before hopping in himself and starting the engine, unbelieving that he had barely just met you and he was already thinking and acting like a fucking dumbass.

“and then we learned the days of the week! oh!— and we learned numbers! i can count to fifteen dad!”

“that’s good milo.” he responded, pulling out of the schools parking lot and craning his neck to see if he could catch a final glimpse of you and settling once he did, you so pretty and conversing so nicely with another kid until he was out of the lot.

“did you eat all of your lunch? y/n tells me ya shared with her.”

“i did! i did share with her.” he grinned. “she liked my lunch!”

“good.” katsuki gave him a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. “that’s good that you always share. especially with her.”

“yup yup! she’s preeettyyy.”

he rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew at the corner of his lips as he nodded curtly.

“that she is.”

katsuki continued to drop off his son personally at your classroom every morning before school.

even when it had been a couple of months into the year, at this point many students already used to their route to and out of class and their parents just dropping them off and leaving— them not even allowed on campus as security rounded every corner and told any parents who wished to go in that they weren’t supposed to, as per policy.

but not katsuki.

katsuki didn’t give a fuck as he stormed through the main office and ignored the calls of the front desk lady, her already used to the rude asshole who came through the building every morning as he strode by and down the hall to class twenty four… wanting to see you— his son’s pretty kindergarten teacher that was sweet and joyful and someone who was everything he wasn’t, his mind curious and filled with your giggles and smiles throughout the time that he’d gotten to know you and chat with you in the mornings and the afternoons, loving the way you were with milo and treated him like he was literally your own— always watching over him and making sure he had had enough to eat and drink and that his hands were washed when he wasn’t around.

and even katsuki himself— you bringing him candy bags from their classroom parties or donuts that were passed to faculty in the mornings and saving yours for him, treats he always took and ate with no questions asked even though he wasn’t a fan of sugary shit and junk food, always making the exception for you.

he had never experienced honest help like that… he’d never experienced someone caring enough about him and his son like the way you did so perfectly every single day…

and katsuki feared that he was a little obsessed.

“oh! miss y/n!”

“yes honey?” you responded kindly, opening a juice pouch for another student and handing it to them carefully during lunch.

milo dug into his lunch pail and pulled out a small container, sticking his hand up and offering it to you.

your brows furrowed, taking it from him.

“what’s this milo?”

“it’s from my dad!”

you stopped, heart dropping to your ass as you recounted his words.

from katsuki?

“your— your dad?”

“mhm!”

you shakily popped the lid of the container open, eyes widening and filling with hearts once you saw a mix of star shaped strawberries and watermelon and papayas, drizzled over with sparkling strings of honey and singular little blueberries scattered about.

“for me?” you asked softly, crouching down next to milo. “my love— are you sure this isn’t for you? i think your dad cut these up for you—”

“nope! for you!” he gave you a big toothy smile before stuffing his mouth with crackers. “he told me not to eat it and to give it to you.”

he swallowed and reached up, you tilting down your head so he could pat it just like you always did for him.

“i hope you like it miss! they look like the ones you told me looked cute!”

“i— i love them milo.. thank you!”

you picked up a papaya piece and ate it, entirely dazed and love struck as your tastebuds savored over the sweet velvety thick honey, literally blinking back tears at how thoughtful and kind katsuki was.

he didn’t have to do this at all… yet he took the time anyways out of his morning to do this for you.

and your heart nearly fucking gave out.

after school once you got your rowdy kids to sit neatly on the bench and wait for their parents, you extended a hand for milo and he hopped off the bench and took it, you both walking up to a waiting katsuki as he stood there with a soft smile on his face.

“hi kats!”

“hey.” he picked his son up and settled him over his abdomen, milo’s arms clinging around his neck and chin propped up on his dads shoulder as he was exhausted from a days worth of playing and learning.

“i wanted to um—” you peered up at him. “i um—”

his brows furrowed, and just as he was about to bark about you stumbling over your words, he stopped.

your bottom lip was trembling.

you hurriedly wiped your eyes.

“i wanted to thank you—” hic! “f—for the star shaped fruit this morning—”

“why are you crying dumbass?” he mumbled, reaching over and wiping some tears with his rough fingers.

“because it was so nice!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking as you let him wipe your cheeks. “and— and you put honey over it too! you didn’t have to do any of that for me!”

“tch—”

he flicked your forehead softly, not enough to hurt you but enough to get you to snap out of your hiccups as you sniffled.

“it’s just fruit y/n—”

“but it’s not.” you wiped your eyes again. “not to me anyways…”

katsuki slowly lowered his arm, gaze tracing over your pretty face and perfect hair and the way you cried over something so stupid, his brain unable to process the fact that an act as simple as cutting fruit up for you could make you this happy, and it made him want to see what you saw for once— how you saw the world for exactly what it was and appreciated it regardless of how big or small things were, not snippy or angry or spiteful over everyone and thinking everything was out to get him and his son.

“crybaby…” he grumbled. “i’m glad you liked it though.”

“i did kats.. a lot. thank you.” you wiped the last of your tears and smiled. “i’m sorry i cried.”

what a pretty sweet girl…

he shook his head and hoisted milo up, him completely knocked out with drool coming out of his mouth as katsuki felt it run down his shoulder, barely even noticing that though as his entire focus was trained purely on you.

was it okay if he… asked you out? would it be weird? would you tell him to fuck off?

katsuki internally rolled his eyes at his stupid fucking high school boy thoughts, though it didn’t alleviate the gnawing feeling that if you did tell him to fuck off… that he’d be angrily mortified at his fail and probably lose the right to talk to you since it’d be too awkward to.

but you were just so fucking sweet. all of the time.

“listen uh—” he cleared his throat, face growing hot. “i was wondering if ya wanted to eat dinner with me… sometime.”

you stared, eyes big and shocked and katsuki took it defensively and entirely the wrong way.

“forget it.” he snapped. “forget it i didn’t say shit—”

“no! no no—” you quickly shook your head. “no it’s okay i would!”

he stopped.

“you would?”

“of course!” you expressed sweetly, cheeks hurting from how big you were smiling as you tried to simmer down your giddy squeals. “i’d love to have dinner with you…”

his tense shoulders slowly relaxed, an eventual small smile growing on his face.

“a—alright uh…” he sighed. “i’d prefer to take ya somewhere nice but i don’t really have anyone to watch milo—”

you shook your head again, brows pinched. “oh no kats— we don’t have to go anywhere at all! we can order something in at your place and eat with milo? or— or my place?”

“my place.” he replied. “and i’ll cook.”

he cooks?!

“okay!” you giggled, your hand reaching up and patting over milo’s sleepy head gently. “sounds good!”

katsuki and you agreed on the details of the date after and bid each other bashful goodbyes, swooning as you watched him walk away into the parking lot with a sleeping milo in his arms and feeling like none of this was fucking real, for you couldn’t believe someone as handsome and cool as katsuki would ever be interested in someone like you.

and funnily enough, he felt the complete opposite, stressed and extra snappy as he cleaned the house from top to bottom (though it barely needed it), unnecessarily fixed the positioning of the furniture and made milo put away his toys, him not even whining or protesting like he usually did solely because the little man knew you were coming— pretty miss y/n with the pretty smile and the nicest lady he had ever met, and one he secretly hoped would be his new mommy every time he saw you and his dad converse before and after school, thinking you would fit the role perfectly.

especially after his dad had given you those fruits as a present!

“milo!” katsuki called. “come ‘ere!”

his son ran into the kitchen, toy race car in hand. “what!”

“be good today, ya hear me?” he pushed, face stern as he flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and sautéed vegetables in his frying pan. “please milo. don’t try to be funny and do somethin’ to scare y/n off.”

milo gave him a look.

“scare miss y/n off? dad you’re gonna scare her off not me!” he giggled. “silly.”

“yeah..” he grunted. “you’re probably right but i’m just sayin’. i’m thinking of the time grandma came over and ya put that fake rat in her purse to try and be funny.”

“ohhh yeeeeah!” he doubled over in little fits of laughter, holding his stomach as he did. “i did do that!”

“see what i mean?” katsuki grumbled, snatching the kitchen towel from his shoulder and throwing it down on the counter top, stepping back to peek in the oven. “you better not do that with y/n please.”

“i won’t!” he grinned. “not when she’s about to be my new mommy!”

katsuki choked as his spit went down the wrong pipe, bending over and coughing uncontrollably in his elbow before spinning around and looking at his son with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“the hell you just say?”

“what!” milo tilted his head. “that y/n is gonna be my new mommy?”

his eyes grew even wider as he dropped the pan he was holding on the stove and leaned back, running his hands over his face.

“oh you little runt please don’t say that in front of her, alright?”

he pouted. “why not?”

“you’ll scare her off! worse than when you put that fake rat in grandmas purse!”

“boooo!” milo stuck his tongue out and crossed his little arms over his chest. “whatever.”

“oi!”

“what!”

katsuki’s doorbell chimed and milo booked it to the front door.

“missss preettyyyy!!—”

“milo get your ass back here!—”

katsuki swung the door open and swooped his son in his arms just as he was about to pounce on you in midair, you giggling and covering your mouth as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“i’m sorry—”

“hiii misss y/nnn!” milo greeted happily, dangling off of his dad as katsuki tried to stop him from wiggling out of his grip. “i’m so exciteeeddd!—”

“hi my love!” you gushed warmly, smile wide as you extended your arms and walked forward, taking milo in your arms and setting him on your hip. “how are you? you excited to hang out with meee?”

“yes! yes!” he vigorously nodded. “i wanna show you all my race cars!”

“oh i can’t wait to seeee!” you bounced him on your hip and he giggled, you turning your attention and smiling at katsuki.

“hi kats!”

“the little brat is hogging—”

milo blew a silly raspberry at him before wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck.

you laughed and ran a soothing hand over the little man’s back, katsuki rolling his eyes before stepping to the side and letting you in, shutting the door behind him and leading you over to the kitchen.

and jesus christ you looked beautiful, him noting that pink was what you mainly wore on the day to day as he eyed your small rosy cardigan, you walking through his home and looking around and oblivious to the way he was staring at you like a fucking creep.

katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched your eyes scan your surroundings, stupidly nervous about what you’d think of his house and furniture and minuscule decorations, and annoyed with himself that he’d even give a shit about something like that, trying to occupy himself and ignore it as he looked in the oven and lifted lids of various pots and pans, checking over tonight’s dinner.

“i’m sorry i’m behind…” he grumbled and waved his hand around. “had to clean the house and shower milo since he decided to play in the fuckin’ mud this morning.”

“oh you don’t have to apologize for that kats!” you looked at him worriedly. “you don’t have to apologize for anything i totally understand…”

you hoisted milo further up your hip and grinned. “i’m just happy to spend time with the both of you.”

katsuki felt smoke puff out of his red ears as he nodded and scratched the back of his neck, turning slightly and lifting the lids from his pots and pans again.

“miss preettyyyy!” milo whined. “when can i show you my race cars?!”

katsuki scowled and you laughed.

“now honey! but how about we move some of your toys to the living room so i can spend time with both you and dad? how does that sound?”

“yayayay!!” milo cheered, bouncing on your hip as you smiled cutely and set him down, him running off down the hall and you quickly following after him.

milo talked you through his entire collection of race cars as you both sat down on the living room rug— telling you the model of each and every one, what they did, how fast they went, they places they’d gone, and which were his favorites as you excitedly talked to him about his cars and shifted conversation between him and katsuki, a task he was surprised you did so efficiently, but then quickly realized that that was literally your fucking job everyday dealing with little brats talking your ears off and you attending all of them at the same time.

and when it came around to dinner time, you helped katsuki set up even through his snapping and huffing that you absolutely shouldn’t, you giving him a silly little face as you assisted anyways and set up milo’s booster seat, picking him up and sitting him down before buckling him up while katsuki placed your dishes on the table—

and gourmet fucking dishes at that.

you were bewildered. absolutely bewildered as you gawked over the lasagna platter he set before you, it delicate and fancy looking as he had even draped sauce on your gray ceramic plate in gourmet intricate designs, knowing that katsuki had mentioned to you he was a chef over the several months you’d gotten to know him, but you didn’t know exactly to which extent that chef occupation stretched to.

“kats…” you murmured. “what do you do for a living.”

“i told you idiot.” he passed over a couple of napkins and you gratefully took them, taking one then and wiping down milo’s mouth as he messily ate his cut up pieces of lasagna. “i’m a cook.”

“yeah but what kind? where?”

“why?” he gruffed. “does it look like shit?”

“no!” you giggled. “absolutely not the opposite actually! this is probably the most beautiful lasagna i’ve ever seen in my life.”

“duh.” he responded, but sent you a small smile as he ate. “i’m an executive chef down at a restaurant in the city.”

your jaw dropped. “the city?! you’re so cool kats! oh my goodness!”

his face flushed.

“my dad says his boss is a piece of—”

“don’t say it!” katsuki snapped at his son, eyes wide as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage the little man any further.

“milo i told ya not to cuss until you’re ten—”

“ten?!” you giggled loudly and let your hand fall, sticking your fork in your lasagna and eating. “as long as he cusses with you and not at you… i think it should be fine!”

katsuki stopped.

you get it. or you rile up his bad cussing habit. either or he might as well have found his fucking soulmate.

“miss pretty!” milo called.

“yes my love?”

“do you have a boyfriend?”

katsuki smacked a hand on his forehead and you snickered.

“i don’t!” you grinned. “why milo?”

“because i want you to be my new—”

“milo if ya shut your mouth right now i’ll buy you two new race cars tomorrow.”

his son gasped dramatically and pursed his lips shut, eyes big and excited as he tried to contain himself and do as told.

“his new what?” you tilted your head cutely, katsuki’s heart hammering against his rib cage as he stuffed his mouth with food.

he shrugged. “the fuck should i know?”

“but i wanna know!” you pouted, taking your final bites of your yummy dinner.

he swallowed.

“do you want dessert?”

you gasped. “oh my god yes! i do!”

“then i suggest you shut your mouth too.”

you laughed over the table, quickly nodding as you pursed your lips like milo and pinched your thumb and index finger together, running it across your mouth and twisting your wrist like a pretend lock before dropping your hand in your lap, giddy and excited over dessert.

katsuki playfully rolled his eyes and stood, collecting all of your plates and stacking them on top of each other before taking them over to the sink.

“dad!” milo called as he bounced in his seat, katsuki grunting in response.

“what’d you make for dessert!”

“mochi.”

“yaaaayyyyy!” he cheered happily. “can i eat it with y/n in the living room?”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “the living room?”

“yeah!” milo exclaimed. “so i can keep showing her my race cars!”

he struggled for a moment before eventually nodding. “alright… but don’t make a mess i just cleaned—”

you and milo ended up building a fucking fort once he gave you the all clear, you both saying something about it adding to the ambiance as you used the couch cushions for makeshift walls and milo’s choo choo train sheets for the roof and tent, katsuki before he knew it his entire living room a fucking mess as the three of you sat amongst the scattered about pillows and blankets eating your bits of mochi, milo mainly inside the little tent you made for him as you and katsuki were too big to fit inside with him.

his living room was a mess… but he didn’t mind.

katsuki didn’t mind the mess.

your way of living was entirely different from his, as yours had everything to do with mess due to your full time job with kids— paint all over your hands and face, marker stains on your clothes and sticky glue residue and pieces of cut up construction paper somehow in your hair, all things katsuki despised for years and made sure his house never reflected any of that.

but in that moment, with his living room in complete disarray and the positioning of his couches utterly fucked up? the dishes still in the sink and the table still set?

katsuki didn’t fucking care.

because he had never seen his son so happy. he had never seen him so excited and hyper as you helped him set up and somehow tie fairy lights that katsuki had somewhere up in his attic for holiday seasons around the fort, you looking fucking gorgeous under the dim dark lightning as you read milo one of his favorite children’s books you got from his little shelf in his room— ‘the very hungry caterpillar,’ one of your favorites too as his son followed along with you and giggled whenever you’d make a silly joke only a five year old would find funny.

and katsuki felt warm… that’s all he ever felt when he was around you.

is this what it was like to be a family?

“oh my goodness i almost forgot!” you quickly sat up and handed milo the book, him taking it as you crawled over and reached for your bag. “i brought something for you honey!”

milo gasped and sat up. “really?! what?!”

you pulled out a ceramic cream colored globe with hollowed out stars, a small bulb inside as you scooched on your knees back over to a curious katsuki and milo.

“woah..” his son whispered. “what is it?”

you smiled and reached for the nearest outlet, plugging in the little globe and flicking a switch.

the darkened room illuminated itself then with the soft murmur of a lullaby playing, star shaped shadows slowly shifting around the entire living room as milo gasped and stood, frantically pointing at each moving shadow and gushing while his little mind was trying to process how cool and fascinating this was.

and all katsuki could do was stare at you.

stare at the way you sat back on your ankles and pointed with milo, counting how many stars you could see before it shifted and repeating that for fun, stare at the way both of your eyes glowed with wonder and curiosity, and stare at the way you smiled so gracefully and looked unreal now under the starry lights, his heart on overdrive at how gentle you were and how much you cared about his son.

about him.

and katsuki was sure then he was absolutely sick over you.

you all settled after a while of playing games and eating more mochi, especially milo, the little lullaby knocking him out as he snored next to you in his fort, you and katsuki laying down next to each other as you stared up at the shifting stars.

“i’m sorry i made such a mess in your living room..” you whispered bashfully. “i promise i’ll pick everything up before i leave.”

he shook his head. “don’t worry about it i can pick up. it’s fine.”

you smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the ceiling, feet planted on the blanketed flooring as your mindlessly moved your propped up knees side to side.

“was it hard raising milo on your own kats?” you asked softly, fingers wrung together neatly on your tummy.

“it was at first.” he mumbled. “but i got used to doin’ it on my own.”

you frowned, not particularly happy with the idea that katsuki had to raise a human being on his own without any help or guidance, wishing that he would’ve had someone there to help him every once in a while, or just be there for him.

“you did an exceptional job, okay?” you began. “you should know that... milo is such an honest kid… and he’s so precious too.”

katsuki’s eyes softened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in fear of you noticing his stupid flustered face as he opted for keeping his gaze glued to the starry ceiling, your sugary peachy perfume not fucking helping as he decided to sit up instead.

“he is.” he grunted softly. “don’t know how his mom didn’t see that.”

you faltered and sat up with him.

“what do you mean?”

katsuki eyed you before looking down, hands flat behind him propping himself up as he thought.

“ah… milo happened because of some random hookup i had in college.” he mumbled. “didn’t love her or anythin’, i barely knew her but still told her i’d support her and the baby obviously.”

you nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“i was there through her entire pregnancy and when milo was born… but the minute she got discharged from the hospital and took him with her, i woke up at four in the mornin’ with a knock on my door and milo left abandoned on my doorstep.”

you gasped, hand hovering over your mouth.

“are you— are you serious?”

katsuki nodded.

“she wouldn’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. i went to her house and found out she took the first flight she could to fuck knows where.” he shook his head bitterly. “but i didn’t give a shit about me i’ll raise him i don’t care. it was never about me.

he looked at you. “it was about milo. i didn’t want him to know that his ‘mom’ left him behind like that, and i didn’t want him to think it was his fault or anythin’… shits ridiculous.”

katsuki shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling. “still don’t know how she could ever do something like that.”

the sound of a hiccup make his eyes widen and snap back to you, your eyes filled with fat tears as your bottom lip wobbled, hands coming up to cup over your mouth and nose as you tried to keep it in.

“you’re crying?”

you nodded, squeaky slight sobs slipping past your throat as you strained to keep everything down.

“that’s so cruel.” you cried softly, embarrassingly drowning in your tears in front of him yet again. “you didn’t deserve that at all kats… milo didn’t deserve that you both should’ve had such a good mommy and— and a good support system—”

katsuki pushed himself up and wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you in and rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly.

“you cry over everything y/n.”

“s—” hic! “—sorry—”

he laid the side of his head on top of yours as you shook, somehow feeling guilty of what he told you just because of how much you were crying.

more than when he gave you those star shaped fruits.

“oi…”

katsuki pulled back and looked at you, reaching up and wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“don’t cry baby…”

baby?!

you funnily sobbed even more and shoved your face in his chest, him chuckling as he wrapped his arms back around you and gently swayed side to side.

“stop it idiot.” he mumbled. “it’s fine. it happened years ago n’ milo and i have always been alright on our own.”

…but he wanted you now.

now that he knew what it was like to be softly cared for by someone precious like you, to feel what it was like to be warm and fuzzy and sunshine and rainbows and candy all of the time… and katsuki wanted you so. bad.

“i know..” you hiccuped. “and i’m really glad but i just wish you had someone.”

you pulled away and quickly wiped your wet cheeks. “m’sorry i cried all over your shirt—”

“don’t give a fuck.”

you breathed out a laugh and dropped your hands in your lap, looking at your fingers as you sniffed.

you were always crying for him.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

he looked to the side with a blush to his cheeks.

“thanks for comin’ today.”

you smiled brightly and nodded.

“of course kats! how could i not?” you looked behind you to a sleeping milo, reaching over and pulling his blanket a little further up his shoulders. “i want you to know that i wanna be there for you and milo…”

he shifted his gaze to you as you turned back around.

“whether— whether you wanna keep seeing me or not—” you gnawed nervously at the inside of your cheek. “which i hope you do! but— but if not that’s totally fine i just want to be there for you both…”

how were you so pure? so thoughtful?

“why the hell wouldn’t i wanna keep seeing you?” he huffed, grumbly and embarrassed as he pursed his lips. “i’d be stupid as fuck not to…”

you blushed, happy shiny eyes looking at him eagerly like he was everything and more, and he wasn’t used to people looking at him like that whatsoever as your gaze flickered down to his lips and back up.

and you were so pretty.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

he slowly leaned closer.

“would you be mad if i made a move on you—”

“of course not—”

katsuki lunged and planted his rough lips on yours, you tasting like straight sugar and honey as he placed his big hands on the sides of you head and held you like a piece of delicate glass, kissing and sliding your tongues in each others mouths rather quickly and breathy as he moved one hand from your pretty face down to your waist to grip it.

you placed your hands on the blanketed floor and slowly crawled over to him during the makeout, him reaching and wrapping the rest of his built muscly arms around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down your sides and back, wanting to feel you as much as he possibly could and squeeze you tight as he gulped your little self down, brows furrowed and lips red.

katsuki pulled away and ran his fiery wet mouth across your jaw and to the spot right below your ear on the side of your neck, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as he bit and sucked and still squeezed you, manhandling you in a way and eating you up.

your eyes fluttered open once you heard a slight rustle, your line of sight catching milo shifting a little in his sleep.

“k—kats—” you breathlessly whispered, pushing a little at his shoulders.

he grunted.

“milo—” you pointed. “he’s waking up—”

“the fucks that gotta do with us—”

“kats!”

he groaned and pulled his mouth from you, scowling over to see his son only shifted positions and was now directly facing the both of you, tiny eyes closed as he drooled and was probably dreaming about race cars and his dads shark shaped pb & j sandwiches.

“the little runt is fine—” he shoved his face back in and gnawed at your neck again as you gasped.

“nooo!” you whined and giggled softly. “now i’m scared he’s gonna wake up…”

he huffed and officially pulled away this time, red eyes dilated and half lidded as he looked over your pinky cheeks and shy face, the purple and blue mark he made on your neck making the right side of his lips curve up into a little prideful smirk, you too distracted to notice over the way he clutched and loosened up the hold on your waist repeatedly.

katsuki kept you on his lap and scooched himself down, laying on his back and head on the pillow as he nudged you to lay on him completely over his chest and body, you more than happy to do so as you settled your head on his pecs and got comfortable with his strong arms around you— feeling so safe and looked after.

and you hadn’t expected to sleep over… but you just didn’t wanna leave, and katsuki sure as hell didn’t want you to either as you softly and quietly talked over the small tinkling of the lullaby and milo’s soft breathing, shadowy stars still slowly shifting around you as you easily switched between various topics— ranging from serious to silly as you ran a loving hand over his chest and his on your back, the both of you subconsciously lulling each other to sleep until you were just as passed out on the floor as milo.

since then, katsuki didn’t wanna let you out of his sight.

as if he wasn’t already involved enough with milo’s school activities because of you, this man became a fucking member of the pta and volunteered himself for every single event so as long as you were there, helping you out especially with fundraisers and bake sales as his desserts always sold out quicker than anything else and made bank as he snickered and boasted at the other parents that weren’t selling as much, you giving him a silly glare that never failed to shut him right up as he wanted to be good for you and not upset you.

the front desk lady even went from hating him to loving him, katsuki grumbling and chucking her a bag of leftover fundraiser chocolate chip cookies on her desk as he passed by to drop off milo in the mornings, serving as a ticket way in and to get her to shut up now instead of yelling at him from down the hall.

and he continued to give you yummy star shaped fruits.

except now some days they looked like hearts or little flowers, and he always made his fruit assortments different so you wouldn’t get tired of them and added different dippings like caramel or chocolate hazelnut, you gushing and nearly bawling literally everyday whenever you’d open the container and milo giggling at you during lunch.

you also never went a day without stopping by or staying over at katsuki’s house since your first initial date, your days so much fun and filled with love as you ate lunch or dinner with the two of them, laughing at milo’s sporadic comments or katsuki’s barking and scolding while you either played with milo, helped katsuki clean up the house and him the kitchen or you the kitchen and vice versa, or simply cuddle on the couch with kisses shared amongst you and katsuki— the three of you with milo seated peacefully and comfortable in the middle while you watched a movie or lulled the little man to sleep.

and katsuki had never felt so complete as he started leaving messes behind without even realizing or stressing about it, and he didn’t know when the fuck it was that he turned so soft and sappy— the change a bit strange to those who knew him as he was just a teeny weeny less explosive and angry over small things, and more so when it came to you and his son.

“make sure you keep your little bucket hat on honey, okay? it’s hot today and i don’t want you to tire yourself out milo.”

the end of the year field trip for the kindergarteners this year was a voyage to the local wildlife sanctuary, a gorgeous exhibit that sat right next to the national science museum in your city, its main attraction being the 25 foot koi pond and butterfly wonderland that housed various butterfly species and their little habitats— the kids field trip assignment being to count how many they see throughout the day and pick one koi fish and butterfly to draw on their journals.

katsuki, of course, volunteered as a chaperone.

“single file line please my loves!” you called, hand by your mouth. “and don’t seperate from your friends okay?! everyone stay where i can see—”

“oi!” katsuki barked, snapping and pointing at a rogue kid who decided to break free from the line and run across the grass. “the fuck do you think you’re doing!—”

“kats!” you breathed out a shocked laugh. “you’re gonna get me fired if you talk to the kids like that—”

“shit! sorry— i’m sorry baby hold on—”

katsuki booked it across the grassy lawn and caught up with the running kid on the other side, the rest of your class giggling and cackling as katsuki swooped him up with one arm and dangled him upside down while he kicked and swung tiny punches to his abs, katsuki not even flinching.

“do that again and see what happens brat.” he spat, the little kid not having a single care in the world as he giggled with the rest of the class, all of them deviously planning to piss katsuki off as much as possible since his outbursts were just funny.

“okay okay—” you smiled apologetically at him before taking the dangling boy from his arm and setting him back down, fixing over his clothes and backpack before patting his head and standing upright.

“no more running alright?” you placed your hands on your hips. “don’t we wanna see some cute little fishies and butterflies?!”

“yeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the babies cheered excitedly, each of them immediately returning to their designated spots in two lines as you grabbed your line leaders tiny hands and started the walk down the grassy field to the sanctuary.

“lemme help ya with one line baby—” katsuki went to grab one of your line leaders hands until they burst into a crying fit.

“no! no! i wanna hold miss y/n’s hand!”

katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “what’s so bad about me hah?”

“you’re ugly! miss y/n is pretty!”

the rest of the kids ruptured, laughing as katsuki sent death glares to a literal child, about to spout something nasty until his eyes flickered to your pleading face, his muscles instantly relaxing as he casted his gaze to the ground with a grumble.

you giggled and gave him a sweet kiss to his cheek in gratitude, his face flushing as he eyed your deep blue overalls and pinky shirt and the way your sunglasses sat pretty in your hair on top of your head.

“what honey?” you tilted your head.

“none of your business.”

you snickered and nudged your shoulder with his, looking over at milo from somewhere in the line to make sure he was okay before walking up the front gates of the sanctuary.

the wildlife guide met you once you all were cleared and inside the greenhouse, your kids absolutely restless as they ‘listened’ to whatever the guide had to say and just wanting to break free and run around to look at all of the fishies and butterflies like you had promised, and you not even listening either as you drooled over the way katsuki’s muscles looked under his t-shirt.

“any questions sweetheart?”

“huh?” your eyes snapped to the guide, cheeks pink as you quickly shook your head. “oh! no not at all! thank you ma’am!”

“alrighty then! just please make sure to tell your students—”

suddenly your two perfect lines broke apart as the kids started running around and pointing at fluttering butterflies and screaming, the guide looking like she’d seen a ghost as the usual quiet and serene sanctuary was now the epitome of noise.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry—” you guiltily apologized. “my kids will settle down they’re just excited is all…”

the guide kindly waved you off before walking back to the main office, you turning and expecting to see katsuki standing next to you, but faltering once you saw he was on the other side and pulling one of your kids down that had climbed up the gates of one of the sanctuaries closed off exhibits.

“oh god..” you mumbled, about to make your way over until you spotted milo in a corner alone, staring at one of the koi ponds.

“milo?” you called softly, walking up to him.

your heart sank once he turned and you saw his little tear filled eyes and wobbling lip.

“oh no!” you gasped, crouching down and taking his tiny hands in yours. “what’s wrong my love? are you okay? is it too hot?”

you pushed some of his spiky blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead as he shook his head.

“i can’t draw!” he sniffled. “and the koi fishies keep moving…”

your shoulders relaxed in relief.

“that’s okay!” you took his journal and pencil, wiping his wet cheeks as you smiled sweetly. “as long as we’re patient with the fishies, they’ll swim back and you can draw them again!”

you opened his journal and flipped to a new blank page, the both of you waiting quietly until a big chubby koi fish swam by.

“there!” milo whispered and pointed, and you quickly drew what you could, just making out the shape of the body before it disappeared again.

“and now we wait!” you grinned up at him. “the fishy will come back around and you’ll be able to draw it again.”

“kayyy!!”

“and you can draw milo. i’ve seen your artwork in class, remember? you always get a gold star!”

he giggled. “i do miss pretty!”

you ran a soothing hand over his back before passing his journal back.

“now you try honey—”

“i love you.”

you froze and looked up, katsuki standing there with a sincere and vulnerable look in his eye.

you stood from your crouched position and looked at him wide eyed.

“i’m not— i’m not good at this kinda shit at all and i always say somethin’ dumb but i do.”

“kats—”

“and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it but i tried to make it obvious with my stupid shaped fruits n’ shit… and i always thought you kinda just knew…”

milo was too busy focusing on catching glimpses of the koi fish to draw with his tongue peeking out to even realize what was going on next to him.

“you’re so patient baby. the way you are with me… the way you are with my kid. i need that in my life and i can’t live without it at this point…” he spoke genuinely. “your fuckin’ fault.”

you giggled and covered your face with your hands, face hot to the touch and bashful at everything he was telling you.

“come here.”

you listened and walked forward, dropping your arms as you wrapped them around his abdomen and his around your head, squishing you in his big chest as he propped his chin up.

“do you love me too or what.” he frowned. “cause if not this is shitty and embarrassing—”

“no i do!” you giggled, pulling away and giving him a cheeky smile. “i do kats you know that… i love you. so much.”

he smiled and pecked your lips. “good, miss pretty.”

katsuki had heard the entire conversation you had with his son, your words seeping with such tenderness and care, and he almost passed the fuck out when he thought about how much of a blessing you were, something he’d be a fool not to snatch up and take as he nearly fucking proposed to you in the middle of the sanctuary like an idiot, not knowing at all how a person that pissed people off for a living was loved by a woman who was the definition of pure.

because how the fuck did an angry dunce like him, get lucky with an angel like you?

“oh my god that dumbass kid is climbin’ the fence again— oi!”

katsuki quickly kissed your cheek before flying to the other side of the sanctuary, you doubling over in laughter as you watched him fight and tug and pull, your student not budging at all whatsoever and the rest of the kids laughing at how red katsuki was getting in the face.

“miss pretty!” milo tugged at your overalls, and you looked down to see him holding up his open journal, a cute wobbly sketch of a koi fish on the page as he smiled big. “i drew it! do you like it?!”

“wow milo!” you gushed, crouching down to his level and taking the journal, examining his artwork. “this is beautiful my love! see? i knew you could do it!”

“thank youuu!” he responded sweetly, his little cheeks blushing as he looked at you like he had another thing he wanted to say.

you tilted your head. “do you wanna tell me something else?”

“yeaaahhh.” he dragged. “please love my dad… i know he’s mean but— but he doesn’t mean it!”

your eyes softened as milo looked down at his shoes.

“and love me too… because i want you to be my new mommy…”

you quickly blinked back tears as to not alarm milo, surprisingly successful at preventing them from slipping down your face.

“i do love your dad honey… and you. the both of you i love so so much.”

he beamed. “really?!”

you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “and i thought i was already your mommy milo!”

the little man gasped and flung his arms around your neck.

“YAAAYYY!” he yelled. “miss pretty is my mommy! i have a mommy now!”

ever since you came into katsuki’s life, his way of living materialized into something completely different.

because now instead of his house being plain and boring and organized from top to bottom without a single thing out of place— it was warm now… happy. and never went a day without smelling like cookies and vanilla as you and katsuki baked with milo any chance you could, set up more pillow forts and tents with starry ceilings, and slept with milo in his room as he snored content in his little bed, you sprawled directly on top of katsuki like he always had you as you both every day intended to leave after putting his son to rest, but ending up falling asleep on the floor each time.

the three of you were a little family.

and katsuki didn’t know why he hated messes so much in the first place.

because mess signified that something had been there, something sunny and tender, something that signified family as you peppered kisses over both your boys’ faces everyday and katsuki drowning you in his rough ones— your man squeezing you so tight all of the time and anywhere, as milo wasn’t just his son now but yours too as you took him to the park or to the aquarium on your days off, the three of you gently living as both of milo’s small hands were occupied now instead of just one.

katsuki’s life looked like it had been generously cherished and lived in for a change.

and katsuki bakugo loved messes.

so as long as they were from you.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever

[anony-man]

Chubformers drabble #154!

Characters: Whirl (& Rung - IDW)

Word count: 1.4k

(CW: heavy topics of body dysmorphia ahead. Read with caution and please take care.)

“I dunno, doc,” Whirl said yet again, his pincers clamped together and his one-optic gaze fixed on the floor. “All this talking and stuff… it just ain’t really working.”

They were trapped in a cycle again. Rung often spent hours struggling to dissecting  Whirl’s poorly phrased worries and doubts filtered through cruel remarks and depreciation marks, and today was no different. It was hard sometimes, knowingly sitting across from Primus incarnated and watching him furrow his brow, adjust his glasses, and stare down at his scribbled notes for the fifth time in the last thirty minutes. If murder and violence hadn’t been two things they went over in detail the first hundred or so sessions, Whirl might’ve been a little more open about his desires to test out the immortal aspects of Rung’s being when the skinny psychiatrist kept giving him that clueless look. 

The room was silent aside from the rhythmic tap of Rung’s fingers against the armchair and Whirl’s pincers fidgeting in his lap. The copter’s helm lifted from gazing down at the floor ever so often, if only to stare at the doctor from across the room before giving another full-body huff and staring back down at the floor, or at his lap. 

For once in his life, Whirl wasn’t intentionally trying to be difficult. It just… happened. It wasn’t his fault as much as it wasn’t Rung’s fault, or the fault of the bots who stared at him from across the bar late at night with sorrow in their optics and disgust in their expressions. It didn’t convince him any more, to be honest, but they’d been over it time and time again, just like the conversation at hand. He wasn’t trying to be difficult, and Rung understood. He didn’t blame anyone—or at least, he tried not to, and Rung definitely understood. What else, what else… ah, the kicker. 

He didn’t feel like himself anymore. The body he carried, the face he saw reflected, the limitations forced onto him… hell, at least Eyebrows tried to sympathize with his situation. He could tell though, when he stared into Primus’ face and saw soft, troubled blue optics staring back at him, that while Rung may have sympathized, he certainly didn’t understand.

It was a shame, really. The guy made a half-decent shrink the rest of the time. 

“I…” Rung began, the words catching in his throat before he could continue. 

I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, Whirl parroted back in his helm. Could you perhaps explain it a different way?

Psh, no. What more was there to explain? He was stuck in the wrong body, how hard was that to get? 

“Eh, don’t psyche yourself up over it… heh, get it? Psyche yourself up? Y’know, since you’re—“

“Whirl.”

Uh-oh. Rung only used that voice when he was calling him out on his bluff. Whirl took a moment to reassess, to check his posture and unfurl the lanky limbs he called legs nowadays out from underneath him. He’d apologize for getting sidetracked, if only to make Eyebrows feel better, but he’d learned early on that despite his disposition, the doctor meant business behind closed doors. 

The copter tried not to fidget too much as Rung adjusted himself as well, having set aside his notes and taken off his glasses. He was still and silent, his expression stern and his gaze unfocused, like he was lost in his own helm. The back-and forth between making progress and falling three steps behind again never really involved this side of the psychiatrist, but since he was already feeling too melancholy to keep at pestering the poor mech, Whirl did as he was instructed and waited. 

“We haven’t made much traction in regards to discussing your… um.” He paused, reached for his glasses, then settled them on his face. “Your… past. I’d rather not prod, and I’m happy to lay this topic to rest again if you’re not willing to discuss it, but…”

“The empurata slag? Yeah, yeah,” Whirl cut in with a wave of a claw. “If talking’s what you’re getting at without talking, then I got another thing comin’ for ya—“

“Have you considered approaching this from a different angle?”

That caught him by surprise.

“Whadya getting at?” he pressed, leaning in and narrowing his optic. It was meant to be intimidating, if only because he wasn’t fully understanding what Rung suggested, but it didn’t seem to work. “I talk Cybertron, Eyebrows, not medical jargon.”

“Try to think about it, Whirl,” Rung continued, his advice still just as unhelpful as before. “We can’t change the past, but… we can at least try to change the future, right? Wouldn’t you agree?”

“…I still ain’t gettin’ ya.”

Rung readjusted his glasses and crossed his legs. “Why don’t you do me a little favor?”

Much like it normally did when Rung was involved, a “little” favor ended up being code for requesting something much, much bigger from the poor copter. Whirl didn’t mind all too much in the end though. Especially not when for once, Primus himself actually seemed to have his back—or what was left of it, at least. 

He supposed the skinny psychiatrist was right in some sense of the matter, but that didn’t mean he was about to admit that outright. Still, Rung made a good few points that stuck out to him in that short lesson… and Whirl simply couldn’t seem to put them out of his helm. 

It took him a few months to warm up to the idea. Change had been bad enough, and even now, change was never easy. Still, he supposed his shrink didn’t claim that the new look would ever be easy to attain, let alone maintain, but he sure as hell tried. Besides, the more he tried, the more he liked it, and the more he liked it… the more comfortable he felt. 

Doing the doc a little favor didn’t seem to equate with evolving himself closer to bearing a body he could manage to look at every morning and every night, but if the shoe fit, why not wear it? As it seemed, packing on weight when he was actively trying to gain it was rather easy, and keeping said weight on his frame was even easier when he enjoyed the results. It took months of trial and error, of struggles and setbacks and all of the messy stuff that happened when you were stuck with such a miserable fate as he was, but he did it.

He made the change—sort of. He liked himself better, at least, with a soft gut and a frame he could almost fondle. It wasn’t the body he’d had before; he still missed his soft colors, his simple corners, the intelligent pair of optics staring back at him through the reflective glass. He wasn’t recovered, per se, but he was recovering, and that counted for something.

“You know,” he said one day, several months after the first breakthrough. “I think you’re really onto something here, Eyebrows.”

The words came easier nowadays. It was simpler to accept his fate and acknowledge his struggles, especially when the pincers folded in his lap were fondling the curves of his twisted frame instead. It felt nice, for once, and though he knew being in control wasn’t something he could always attain, it felt good to at least get a little handle on it for once.

He was softer now… curvier, plumper, and it was all thanks to him. Not the oppressors, not the government, not even Rung, though he did appreciate the skinny bot’s help pushing him in the right direction. No, this was an achievement for him to be proud of, and he had himself to thank for the success.

“It’s different,” he continued, his pincers still poking and pinching and prodding, too busy exploring the soft mesh of his frame to be caught nervously fidgeting in his lap. “But I like it… it’s nice. It’s a good little change for me.

And indeed it was. It wasn’t perfect, and it didn’t solve everything, but… it was nice. It helped. 

Whirl liked feeling good. As it seemed, he also liked feeling soft—but only physically, not emotionally. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress, and as Rung would always say, progress was a step in the right direction. 

[goodolddumbbanana]

This episodes today... Damn. I was shocked that Sun was not mentioned when Moon hit him. And oh boy, the boys are fighting and Moon is hesitated when Sun said he would not be happy? Delicious.

Seeing these episodes make me think back Sun in the past. Sun in the past definitely break down and cry and let his anxious flood his mind. He would begged and pleased , he would been so helpless and lost . He would accept his fate with a thought in his head that he was useless.

Now... I don't know if people see it but I think Sun is given up. Not in terms that kill himself or depressed so much he is self destructed, but in terms that he is no longer given a damn. Seems like his emotions becomes so drained that his empathy slowly get sweep away.

Why I say that?

1. He has tired of Moon's crap. No "it's not you, moon." No "we can fix it together, moon. Just let me help you." No "it not true Moon, don't talk to yourself like that."... Just balantant accepted. The past Sun might thinking he was a problem and try in some unlucky ways to self destructive himself only to try to get Moon sane again. (Sun is not dumb. He is just very unlucky.)

The present Sun? The "I am not afraid to beat the shit out of you if it means I will bring your sanity back?"? Mr-maybe I - will - lock -Moon-just -a- little -bit-until-he-cool-down?

Sideline, Have you ever thought the reason why Sun decided to build a box to stop Moon was because in the past, when Sun had a mental breakdown, it was Old Moon who did that to cool Sun's head?

Something about the history repeats itself, about the cycle of trauma continues. (Sun is not an abuser, I repeat. Sun is not an abuser) But I would be lying if I don't think it is poetic that Sun will not have any other single thoughts about locking Moon.

Sun is not even suprise that Moon insane at this point. He just looks so disappointed and be like: "Oh well, doomed my Friday I guess. " And thinking about solutions. Not single bits emotions attract.

(just like when my mom struggled to go to hospital so bad, she hit my glasses. All I feel was annoyed that I can't get her to the hospital sooner, and only some shallow anxious about her health on the surface.)

2. Death threat

How many death threats Sun have said nowadays. Catnap. Eclipse. Papyrus. Ban ban. Creator... And now... Moon.

Sun is not saying that directly, but "you know I would be not very happy" and "I can talk to him or something... action" heavily implied in Sun might hurt Moon. Not in the term of kill New Moon, but Sun will hurt Moon to save him, because turn out, violence is the only thing Sun Knows. Violence is the only make things work. Eclipse taught him that. Old Moon taught him that. Monty? Even Lunar taught him that.

[oldfashionedmorphine]

hi friends!! i’m super excited to share Will’s perspective from the scene in the basement all the way back in chapter 4 of i’m a wreck (without you here)!!!

i highly recommend reading chapter 17 first!!! 😉

(it’s 2.7k words! oh and psa for anyone who has read my story so far—especially if you haven’t read this chapter in a while: i have gone back and fixed some things i didn’t like cause as much as i loved this chapter, i published it before i was 100% satisfied with it…but it works better now! also idk why but i kinda like Will’s pov more 👀)

🎵🎶 and look!! i even picked out songs!!! :D

tagging my fans: @across-thestars @boahey @magentamee @daydreams-in-the-moonlight @greenfiend @rebellius @booksandpaperss @castelobyers @total-serene560 @wheelersboy @sparks-olivarpente @hazmatazz @suzieburself @unrepentant-byler-shipper @quarter-pasteleven

Enjoy!

Cause It’s the Only Thing I Wanna Do

June 22, 2004 11:47 pm

“—I really wanna know how you’ve actually been, you know, from you.”

“Well, uh...” Mike starts to say, but then he pauses, eyebrows lifting, eyes wide—it looked as though he were trying to figure out where to start first. And then Will watches Mike pour himself another shot, slamming it down fast, and sucking his teeth before he continues, “Well...I live in an apartment, it’s not terrible. Rent is a little expensive where I’m at, so I have a roommate—he’s a law student and I rarely ever see him—but anyway, I had a lot of financial mishaps over the years, so I never quite got out of the cycle of renting to own anything...or heck, even live alone. But it doesn’t really bother me though—I have a cat, her name’s Josephine—that was her name at the shelter and I thought it was cute so I kept it—and uh...definitely no girlfriend…”

Definitely no girlfriend?

The way he had said it raised a tiny little flag in Will’s mind. And then there was a pause between Mike’s words—Will almost found the nerve to ask him to elaborate, but then Mike shakes his head slightly and he’s back to speaking, “And the weather is pretty dreary. Both Nancy and Holly were convinced I have depression. They’re probably right. They said the weather only makes it worse. It does get lonely sometimes too—my relationships—well, nothing ever sticks. Honestly, it's mostly sucked, but I can’t bring myself to leave.”

Will pulls his knees to his chest, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting to hear, but hearing Mike talk about feeling lonely and how his sisters were convinced he had depression didn’t sit well with him. Once upon a time, back during the darker days of being so incredibly furious because Mike had left him behind, there were times when Will had hoped he was miserable, but eventually he grew out of that mindset after his heart hurt less, and over the past couple years, whenever he thought of Mike, he liked to imagine he was happy somehow, even if it was without him. And all the things he knew from afar—the things Nancy had told him—were all positive because she had never once mentioned anything about depression, she only informed him of the highlights. Simple stuff like Mike getting a new job or how he had sent gifts for the kids, and he knew about the cat, just not her name, but of course each time Nancy would also add a little something to the effect of ‘You know, I think he misses you, you should try talking to him—I have his number if you want it’, but of course, he couldn’t do it. He wanted to call, but too much time had passed…and it wasn’t like Mike ever tried to reach out either—Nancy had his number too, so she probably offered it to Mike at some point as well. Ultimately, it felt like the damage was too severe to ever recover from. And it was also very hard to believe that Nancy was really telling the truth—that Mike actually missed him—and not just meddling to make family gatherings less awkward. Maybe she had hoped that if the two of them were friends again, then her brother would be more inclined to visit. Perhaps a selfish motive, but if that was the truth, then he could understand why she would try and make the effort. In the end, Will thought it was best to leave it alone, because there would be less chance of getting hurt again that way…

And when Will realizes Mike had left him a short window to speak, he takes it—he wants Mike to know he's listening. “Why not? If it sucks, why not move somewhere else? What’s stopping you? It’s not like you haven’t done a big move before. Just go somewhere more affordable,” but Mike’s face was still sour, so Will makes a small attempt to provoke a smile with a teasing tone, “and with better weather.”

“I dunno. It’s stupid when I think about it now, but I pissed everyone off back when I first moved—and then you wouldn’t talk to me anymore—I guess I just felt like it all had to mean something.”

Will quirks an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Mike keeps his eyes cast down at his hands, fidgeting with an empty shot glass. “I mean, that me living there, in Seattle, couldn’t be all for nothing. And I only realize now that I was being so fucking stubborn about it. It’s just that...half the time—half the time I was embarrassed that I didn’t live up to my parents expectations. I could have been more—or something. Something more. I had really hoped being somewhere else would have helped, like when people talk about a ‘fresh start’, but I just feel like—I dunno, like I’m going through the motions.” He scoffs. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but...if twelve year old me could see me now I’m sure he’d be pretty disappointed. I let myself get knocked down because of a couple dumbass choices—any normal person would have dusted themselves off and tried again. But not me.”

“Oh…” Will murmurs. He wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Not me...or I dunno, maybe I was just punishing myself.”

Again he watches Mike pour himself another shot of vodka, filling it to the very brim this time, almost to the point it spills over, and as he brings the shot to his mouth, some of the liquor drips onto his shirt and the floor. It was clear Mike’s coordination was wavering with each additional shot. And then Mike offers to pour Will another, but he shakes his head, refusing—Will knew his limits. Three shots of vodka was more than enough, possibly too much, because he was definitely feeling it. If he drank any more he’d regret it in the morning. Not to mention he wasn’t a big fan of getting drunk to begin with. He always feared he’d end up like his deadbeat dad if he wasn’t careful about pacing himself when it came to alcohol.

Mike sets the bottle back on the coffee table. “You probably know this, but I was also holding a major…major grudge against my dad for the longest fucking time because of his—well, cause of all those things he said.” He chuckles, which Will found to be a bit unsettling considering what Mike was saying. “At one point my mom even said that he was ‘sorry for everything’ and that he wanted to try to ‘make amends’…part of me thought she was just saying it to force me to apologize first, but I still couldn’t face him even if it was the damn truth. Like, I just couldn’t trust that he really felt differently after everything—well ‘cause, all those horrible things he said—the things he implied…even about you, they might as well have been…about me. Y’know? I mean, they were…they are, he just didn’t know it. And I really didn’t think he’d still be sorry if he knew about that.”

Wait—what? Did he just—

Will was stunned, though he wasn’t sure he heard him right. Because it wasn’t like he had said the words outright, yet it sounded a hell of a lot like he was implying that—

And now Mike was looking over at him, full of panic, with the kind of expression you’d expect from someone who just revealed a truth they never meant to share. His eyes remain locked on Mike, but the longer he stares at him the more confused it makes him, so Will drops his gaze to the floor and tightens his arms around his legs. No matter how Mike’s face seemed, it wasn’t confirmation of what he thought he heard—hopes he heard.

Out of the corner of his eye, Will sees Mike reaching for the vodka again, this time drinking straight from the bottle. Part of him wanted to snatch the bottle away from Mike—I think you’ve had enough, mister, you’ll regret another drop—except he can’t seem to move a damn muscle for some reason.

And after a moment Mike sighs, setting the bottle down. “Of course, I don’t exactly know how he would’ve handled the news—I mean, obviously I never told him—or anyone from back then—”

But what else would have upset his father so much? What could it possibly have been that he never told him…or anyone else? Drugs? No, because he said it had something to do with me too, so that can’t be it, not to mention the way he emphasized—

Mike hiccups. “As I say this now, you’re the first I’ve—”

Okay, but I’m the first what? I need you to say it!

“—and of course I never let it go with him...but then...it was too late. The option to even think about—well, about finally forgiving him...and telling him the truth about me—”

The truth about—okay, yeah, that has to be it—Ted must’ve said a bunch of homophobic shit to Mike and I was roped into the mix somehow, because Mike said his dad ‘implied horrible things’ that involved me, yet all of it also applied to Mike? So then he must’ve meant that he’s gay…or maybe he’s bisexual? What else would make Ted Wheeler lose his shit? What else would he want to conceal for so long? And that still had to do with me somehow—cause it sure as shit wouldn’t have been over video games…plus…no one—not Nancy, Holly, Karen, El, or any one else—has ever once mentioned anything to me about Mike having a girlfriend since…high school…

“—cut all the bullshit, but...it didn’t. And I didn’t even go—didn’t even go to his funeral. I didn’t deserve to. It’s stupid—or I’m stupid. And now with Nancy—I didn’t—fuck—I didn’t even...consider...that I had so little time left with her. And...my options were taken away...again. I could have—I could have...seen her more. I know we weren’t always...the closest, but she—she definitely made more effort than me—if I had just...been less of a dipshit and forced myself to visit...but now—well, I can’t do that anymore. She’s gone, Will. She’s really...” Mike pauses, then he whispers, “gone.”

And then Will looks back over at Mike—he was using his sleeves to dry his eyes, but his tears were relentless, continuing to spill over, and with snot also dripping from his nose. The mere sight of Mike in this state elicits tears of his own, as well as an overwhelming urge to comfort him, to offer him a shoulder, but when Will starts to inch closer to him, he hesitates. There was a time they used to hug, but what if Mike didn’t want to be touched?

Fuck it—he can push me away if he needs to.

Will must have caught him by surprise with his sudden impulse, because now Mike’s looking at him with glossy bloodshot eyes as a shuddered gasp escapes his pale lips. And then Mike starts to tremble as though he were on the cusp of shattering into a million pieces. But for a single selfish second, as Mike was falling apart right before his eyes, Will can’t help but marvel at the sheer impossibility of the situation. At how close he was to Mike. Their knees were now pressed together and the scent of his shampoo was so prominent—citrus and mint—mixed with a hint of alcohol coming from his breath. But the moment passes and then the instinct to wrap an arm around him kicks in, to draw him even closer. Mike’s head immediately falls onto Will’s shoulder and his sobs grow louder.

And between sobs and sniffles Mike starts stuttering, “I’m n-never gonna see her again—ever. Never hear her voice—see her s-smile. Never—and I missed out—the pictures—her! Never, n-never—I’m so stupid—stupid—” Without any warning, Mike moves to throw his arms around Will, seeming desperate as he grabs onto his shirt, pulling at the fabric so intensely that threads begin to snap, threatening to rip the seams apart entirely—hey, I like this shirt—except Will couldn't find it in him to make Mike stop. All he can do is try and hold him and hope that it helps. And when Mike starts to beg softly into his ear, the words tug even more at his heartstrings, “Please, please—don’t go. Please, you can’t go. Please, please s-stay—ple-please don’t go. I don’t want—I don’t want—don’t leave me again. Please, please don’t—don’t—don’t—” then Mike tucks his face into the crook of Will’s neck, his pleading words becoming too muffled to comprehend.

Will tries to ignore the small part inside of him that feels betrayed for allowing himself to get this close to Mike and risk his heart all over again. And he briefly thinks back to when he held that number in his hand, debating with himself for hours before he pushed a single button—before he ever left that voicemail—because he knew exactly what would happen. It was a slippery slope and the stakes were high. But of course, a larger part of him wanted Mike back more than anything, so he had set aside his fear and from the very second he dialed his number, he was all in—heart unsheathed and vulnerable. And now here he was, sitting on the floor of an old familiar basement, more than a little tipsy, with Michael Wheeler drunk and trembling in his arms, begging for him to never leave him again.

But tomorrow Mike would wake up and not remember any of this. And if Will were to ask him about it, he’d reply that he didn’t mean anything he said. That it was all a mistake. That it was only extreme grief and copious amounts of vodka that made him utter such words, but Will tries to ignore every invading thought. Thoughts driven only by fear—a defense mechanism designed to shield his heart by preparing him for some hypothetical worst case scenario like last time. Because something inside him was fully aware that he had slipped over that edge and he was falling once again for the idea of spending the rest of their lives together. And that maybe he wouldn’t survive this time if it all went wrong.

But it won’t. Not this time. This time it’ll be different—no more hiding.

“Hey, hey...it’s gonna be okay. I’m here...” Will whispers to him as he brings a hand up to stroke the back of Mike’s head, his hair the slightest bit damp to the touch, and then slowly his shaking begins to subside. “I know it hurts. But it’s gonna be okay... maybe not right now, but someday.”

Mike’s sobs taper off until the only sound filling the space in the room was REO Speedwagon’s Keep On Loving You;

“…When I said that I love you, I meant that I love you forever…”

Will rocks him gently side to side, humming the song as if it were a lullaby. Eventually Mike grows heavier in his arms and Will realizes it would be better for Mike to sleep in a bed, so he tries to rouse him. “Mike?”

No answer, so he tries again, giving him a little shake. “Mike…Mike?”

“Hmm.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed—”

He groans at the suggestion.

“You can’t sleep like this, come on…”

Mike mumbles—it sounds like he was asking him to stay.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He finally manages to help him up, but they only get as far as the sofa bed right behind them. At first they both stay sitting at the very edge, with Mike still trying to hold onto Will, but in the end, Will gently eases him towards the pillow and he goes out like a light.

Will tilts his head as he leans over him, then reaches a hand out—at first it was to simply push back the hair from Mike’s eyes, but right after, he caresses his cheek with the back of his hand. Even with puffy eyes and tear-soaked skin with splotches of red, he was beautiful. Maybe more so now than ever before.

And Will felt guilty for wanting to capture Mike in such a dark moment. But that feeling didn’t stop him from picking up his sketchbook off the floor and opening it to an empty page…

[slut4colinbridgerton]

Bittersweet in my mouth || COLIN BRIDGERTON

PT 2

PROMPT: “People warned me about you. I didn’t listen… God I wish I did.”

Requested?: No

Ship: Colin Bridgerton x reader

Warnings: AFAB pronouns, angst, colin being a cunt (please let me know if I need to add anything else!)

Summary: idk it’s just pure angst at this point

(gif by @bonniebirddoesgifs)

“Fine, she’s behind me.”

“What?”

Y/N poked her head out,

“Hi.”

“Eloise please leave.”

“No way, brother.” She stood there with her arms crossed,

“Eloise,” Y/N grabbed her shoulder, “I’ll be back soon ok? Let me just talk to him.”

Eloise nodded, and left to resume her conversation with Penelope.

Y/N just stared at Colin and shrugged,

“So? What do you want to tell me?”

“I wanted to apologise. It was unwise of me to imply that you won’t do well on the marriage market.”

Y/N let out a unladylike snort, before covering her mouth,

“You could definitely say that Colin.”

She paused, as if in thought, then turned back to face him,

“I wouldn’t have cared if the comment came from an ancient, balding lord. But it hurt because you said that Colin, you know how worried I was about me being able to attain a respectable husband. And your comment was like a dagger to my heart. And for your information, I could easily get a husband, but I’ve been holding myself back for someone, who I now see doesn’t deserve me.”

As she said this she took a step closer and closer to Colin, who simply stared at her with a dumbfounded look on his face.

“Who did you hold yourself back for?”

“You, Colin.”

“How could I hold you back? What do you- Oh.”

“Yeah Colin. I’ve waited, and waited. And every time you spoke about some other charming debutant you broke my heart. But then you would be so charming to me, touch my arm for slightly too long, and that would give me a glimmer of hope. Hope that maybe you felt the same way. And this cycle continued, and it broke me every time.”

As she finished her rant, she let out a shaky breath. She turned to walk out of the secluded area of the garden, but Colin lurched forward and grabbed her upper arm,

“Y/N wait-“

She screwed her arm out of his loose grip,

“Colin no, you can’t fix this now. You’re engaged now, remember?”

She stared at him, with a hint of fury and- a sense of hatred? As Colin opened his mouth, she spoke again,

“People warned me about you Colin. I didn’t listen and I allowed myself to be stuck in your trap. God, I wish I did listen…”

She walked out of the secluded area, leaving Colin stood there, shoulders slumped and a defeated look on his face. He wished she would look back but she didn’t. How he yearned to tell her he felt the same…

He felt a pat on the back and looked down, it was Eloise,

“Let’s get you a drink brother, you look like you need one.” He allowed himself to be pulled by her to the drinks table.

AAAAAAH OMG I FINALLY PUT OUT PART 2. i’m so sorry it’s taken so long, i literally have no excuses, but i finally finished because someone commented they were looking forward to part 2. and i’m a people pleaser what can i say 🤷🏻‍♀️ anyways i hope you enjoyed reading it, and once again and any constructive criticism is welcome as i did not edit this.

thank you :)

- caitlin/sage <3

taglist (cause people actually want to read it???):

@snixx2088 @pandoraneverland @scoopsahoyspidey @honeylovemoon

[crimsonxe]

rant below

tmw stumbling over some moron on reddit (I don't go there, but do look over screencaps and details from others that do) basically stroking off Celtic and ignoring all the disgusting aspects of Ruining RWBY.

Like this moron puts forward the idea that Ghira and Kali don't come across as a couple or as Blake's parents. HOW? Ghira and Kali easily give couple feel, one that is well-into its years and not some immature showcase of teen boys ideas of relationships. They also fully feel like Blake's parents, hell Blake displays traits of both.

BB is in absolutely no damn way done better by Celtic's bigoted ass than the show itself that actually did a slowburn that anyone actually paying attention had pointed out for YEARS. The main show however didn't shove the two into a hot-tub for service.

Yang's trauma and disability are handled with care, within the confines of a more action show that has people that whine about any slowing down.

Dumbass tries to gloss over the disgustingness and view into the minds that the faunus heat cycles presents. Nvm not only the person being pro-Velvet/Cardin even doing a "Celtic says they're platonic but we know better heheheh" type of thing, cause shoving a racism bully into a romance with her racist bully isn't at all disgusting. Oh wait it actually majorly IS.

2 parter: 1) Celtic not only does an asspull to bring Roman back but also shoves his ass into the main spotlight so while not "self-insert" is definitely author servicing himself and 2) love how these morons keep accusing the actual writers of RWBY of doing self-inserts when no shit-for-brains they don't. Neptune gone for over half (really even 75-80% of the current volumes of the show); and Jaune wasn't even supposed to have as big a role at first but it was MONTY's push to expand him out. On top of that the amount of development and time he gets is proportional to what fits with his role.

And finally the person just really goes ham in regards to stroking off Celtic with a "thank you" section. Like I can smell the mustiness and desperation just oozing from the text its so damn bad.

"Fixing RWBY" is nothing more than "Ruining RWBY" and Celtic is nothing more than a sexist, bigoted, racist, transphobic, obnoxious incel shitlord that has the benefit of running his damn mouth off about x,y, and z; w/o doing a budget, w/ the RWBY writers having already done the work, and being stroked off by his incel followers for RUINING the RWBY concept by injecting every single bullshit sexist anime/manga/media trope he can into his AU of it. I'll continue to laugh at any knuckledragger that actually talks about it in a positive manner.

[skaruresonic]

The Welsh Triads were originally orally transmitted, as druids and bards had to memorize everything, and it made things easier on them to recount information in multiples of three. The system of memorization via lists is called cyfarwyddiaid, which would be spoken aloud by a cyfarwyddyd (storyteller). Culhwch and Olwen, the earliest example of Welsh Arthurian literature, reads at times like a pastiche of this form of Welsh oral storytelling. Arthur evoking the 200 or so names of every person, animal, and possession in his court in dedication to Culhwch's quest would have definitely tested the cyfarwyddyd's powers of recall had it been recounted orally. The lengthy list of characters would have also given the audience reason to be like "ah yes, I remember that guy." Not to mention the occasional bit of comedy may have been sprinkled in to keep the passage from becoming a total slog, such as the name "Sound, Son of Hearing." That would suggest the author was knowledgeable enough in the traditional oral form to riff on it a little. The Dream of Rhonabwy, a much later (and I use this term loosely) isekai tale in which a royal messenger in the 13th century falls asleep on a yellow calf-skin inside a derelict hall and dreams of the former glory of Arthur's court, borders on satire, if not surrealism. Dream of Rhonabwy, in fact, has been argued to reflect the political tumult of medieval Wales at the time, turning it into a (then) modern parable with a vague Arthurian gloss draped on top. It may have been a way to wag the finger at warring princes of the time and lament "Oh, how the mighty have fallen." Sir Thomas Malory's take builds off of Geoffrey of Monmouth and Chretien de Troyes's work, compiling and compressing an amalgamation of folk tales. His work furthermore reflects the political and social mores of his time in the form of Christian virtue and codes of chivalry. Our boy Geoffrey claimed to be working from original Bri'ish tradition, but his sources are a little "just trust me dood" tbh. With all this in mind, it must be considered that Arthuriana reflects the cultural mores of time and place, and so there is no one set "canon," no one fixed version of legend. Frankly, given how many countries and principalities each had their own slice of the pie, it's impossible to even say which is more "canon" than the next. Welsh and French cycles do bear their own continuities if you look at them broadly, true, but once you zoom in on the details, you find hundreds of localized permutations. Like: that spring is known for hosting the magical tomb of Arthur's dead son, you should go and measure the dimensions for yourself. Or, isn't it crazy how our blessed saint had beef with Arthur, and got his head cut off after spotting Arthur dancing in drag with a bunch of girls at a party and the saint was only able to tell due to Arthur's telltale limp? (I swear I am not making this shit up.)

Even though the characterization of Malory's Arthur is a far cry from the rampaging warlord of Welsh folk tales, even that more "savage" characterization varies depending on what source you read. Sometimes the clergy made Arthur, a pagan warlord, look bad precisely to puff up their own protagonists, or just the church in general:

These may be exemplary, conventional episodes, but in other Vitae the Arthurian episodes appear to be genuine fragments of Arthurian legend, manipulated so that they display Arthur in the worst possible light.

One of the clearest examples of the inversion of traditional Arthurian values occurs in the Life of Cadoc by Llancarfan, c. 1090. Arthur is prevented from fulfilling his lustful desires upon a fleeing maiden by his two companions, Cai and Bedwyr, who remind him that they normally help the needy [...], a comment which is reminiscent of Arthur's rebuke to Cai in Culhwch ac Olwen.

That's why I tend to look askance whenever people treat Arthurian legend like it's a monolith - there's a millennium of literature scattered across the continent, and even those elements you'd take for granted are not always necessarily so.

[firsttarotreader]

but he thinks he’s the shit and he can always fix everything, but never does. //

Damn Pedgie I can relate 😭😭😭 I wanna ask the cards again if you can, but... first, I'm going to ask your own take, Tarot Mami🥰 or other anons too

Would he be possibly get out from these situations? Maybe by meeting someone who can understand his "lack of definition", or maybe from other ... methods as well - I saw people saying that he's a red flag who needs therapy. Telling by experience it's so hard to break the cycle and the pattern repeats, and because we're like, "oh i need to fix them and i can!" then enduring our pain though the person would continuously burn us out.

Btw this probably means nothing - but astrology anons might help🤣 I'm a Libra sun & Sag moon and somehow I think the anon who says Pedro not fitting into Capri moon but Sag moon instead is true. I dont mean to project but I see his (damaging) traits in my own self lmaooo

Hello! Well, I asked the cards about it, but you also asked my take on it. I think it’s really hard to break the cycle (being attracted to unavailable people and people he knows are going to hurt him or situations that won’t last) if you don’t know why you are repeating it, and you cannot figure that out easily since most of the reasons are in the unconscious mind.

Anyway, I first asked directly if he could possibly get out of the cycle and the Major Arcana were The Hanged Man, Strength and The Sun.

Well, at the moment our man seems to be in suspension with The Hanged Man. He’s hesitant, he doesn’t want to deep dive because he’s insecure, so he’s just… there, not really making any moves in any direction. Strength has been a common card in his readings lately, that need to master his raw emotions and stay in control of the situation, while The Sun shows him being aware of it all, pretty much conscious of the way he tends to be attracted to unavailable people and kind of making the decision to stay this way because he is “satisfied” with it. He’s been holding back on doing anything different because he just doesn’t want to and this is clear to him.

The Minor Arcana were the Ace of Cups, 7 of Cups and Page of Wands. Ace of Cups with The Hanged Man is interesting because the Ace represents letting the feelings flow, then seeing things from a new perspective, making a move and allowing love to happen in a different way. 7 of Cups paired with Strength makes me think he’s trying to control and limit his possibilities, and it could also point to idealizing and fantasizing too much about what relationships should be like, as if he uses all this idealizing to stay in control. Page of Wands with The Sun in this context might mean he’s this boy who wants to explore new things and try new things and who’s full of fire energy to experiment. However, I think he would also have to use this energy for beginnings as the driving force to experiment new ways of connecting with people romantically and sexually, different types of people and in different situations. You can try new things or you can try the same thing many times, just with new people.

So I would say he’s not really ready at the moment to try and get out of these situations, he would have to be open to a new and different attraction, but he’s suspended, he’s not there yet.

Then I asked my Alice in Wonderland deck for more info and the cards were really similar. The first ones were The Chariot, Ace of Teacups and The Emperor.

The Chariot is that movement he would need to get out of The Hanged Man position, he would have to be open to a new path and actively follow it, to the Ace of Teacups, letting the feelings flow in a new way. BUT there he is again, The Emperor, he’ll do what he wants when he wants because he is in control, he will make his own decisions and he will know when to.

The last pull was The Star, 7 of Teacups and 10 of Spears. The Star is the card of hope and optimism, being able to actually think it’s worth it doing something different and be open to the 7 of Teacups, the many possibilities. But for that, it would be necessary to leave his old ways behind with the 10 of Spears.

So as you can see, it’s still up to him and still a matter of being open to the new and different. As we always say, though, he doesn’t need to be, only if he wants to.

[cor-lapis-candy]

I'm back on my idea of an isekai reader who is the assistant to aether/lumine, but like you run that teapot, that is your domain, tubby is your assistant and the invited guests answer to you not aether/lumine.

Now let's think about Zhongli coming to visit between trips with the traveller only to be met with your glower, you had been cleaning and he had the former archon had the gall to appear while you had been re-leafing some of the gold furniture and startled you enough that had a smattering of gold across your cheeks and arms.

He had made a mess of you and your work and had the audacity to simply walk off as you tried to brush the gold flakes from your skin.

It's not the first time you had growled and grumbled at the former archon about his popin visits and the constant invasion of your space when he did, looming over you as you repaired and put new furniture together, the bastard has a sixth sense to when your putting together liyue styled pieces and or working gems into certain things, always on the dot and flees the moment you call him out on it.

If only you had followed him rather than huffing and continuing with the repairs, oh what a sight you would have seen.

It was far from a chance that he showed up just as you began to work with gold and gemstones, as the former lord of geo he knows when someone is working with his elements, often blotting it out and ignoring the residual hum in the back of his mind. Only when it comes from certain areas does he pay attention, and the travellers realm is one he always watches, waits for the moment he hears that low hum before rolling through to the realm.

He knows it won't be the traveller, knows it will be you at the foot of the stairs or tucked away in some room shaping and fixing some of the decorations, so diligent with his domain and so perfect as you slot the cor lapis into it's frame on some chair that had tipped and cracked the original jade icon. Perhaps it was unbecoming to look as he does and yet he can't stop himself, watching as you work with your hands, fingers dipping into the wood and stone, dragging over the groves and carved waves in the very element he had lorded over for millennia.

It was most definitely unbecoming that the sight had him tenting his pants, cock swelling with the vision of your hands taking him up and treating him with the same diligence and care, palms cupping his balls and wrapping around his shaft as you work him to completion, perhaps you would take him into your mouth and leave his skin shiny with your spit before dragging it across his skin, making the black and gold of his cock shine like the cor lapis you so often had to change out.

The way he hurried away when you turn your attention from the furniture is only to keep you from seeing how as you bend your head he is pressing his palm against his cock, rocking hair hips into the pressure and trying to avoid shuddering or shifting too much, the dedication and focus you display is intoxication in its purest form.

He can practically taste the tang of another world on your skin, even if he has never had more than passing contact with you, and yet he wants to know what you taste like, how the sweat that beads on your upper lips would taste as he dragged his tongue across your lips before delving between them, he even longs to know how your scent would change after working in the false heat of the adeptal realms, would your sex smell of sweat and your arousal? Or would the heavy scent of work overpower everything else?

He had to know, but in the same breath he knew you had grown annoyed at his looming presence, huffing and grunting as he made another unannounced visit to the teapot, and yet it's a cycle as he watches you, drinks in the designs and care you show only to duck away into the room that was for him, decorated for him, everything here was made by you for him and he would make sure to make use of it all.

Be that alone with his hand around his cock or maybe in the days to come with you, dedicated, wonderful you, oh so perfect to be seated on his cock or perhaps you would prefer his more bestial form and the twin cocks that would stretch you and make all mortals useless for your pleasure...

[cursedcola]

Can I request an imagine of the dorm leaders chap 1-4 going to therapy after their overblot? How would they react to it and what problems would they work through? Someone help these boys :’)

Prompt: Dorm leaders go to therapy post-overblot Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ahsengrotto, and Kalim Al' Asim (ft. Special Guest) Warnings: Mentioning of emotional distress and disorders DISLCAIMER: This is not serious what-so-ever. This prompt will be taken in a light-hearted context for simple headcannons. I do not claim to have any professional knowledge of anything within this post.

Premise:

Dire Crowley does not want the reputation of NRC to fall because of a few "mishaps," popping up as of late. Rather than hiring a professional School Psychologist, he decides to call upon a ghost therapist to haunt one of the back rooms in Ramshackle Hall. Any student involved in recent, "mishaps," are "encouraged," to go seek counseling.

Oh, no. Not you MC. You're fine just as you are. Please tend to the "guests," in your home when they are on the premises. Since NRC's therapist is a ghost, they will need an assistant with posable thumbs to do the heavy lifting. Remember that you are staying in Ramshackle FOR FREE at the KIND GRACE of your beloved headmaster, yes?

One other thing. Be sure to share all the gossip with NRC staff when you're through. Have Fun ~

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

Riddle Rosehearts

Mommy Issues

Man has identity issues like no other. He's pulling traits from textbook definitions and does not think for himself

He goes into therapy thinking that he knows exactly what answers to give. Definitely the one to think that he is out-smarting all the "mind games" being thrown his way

He goes because it's "recommended," but is peeved that its a ghost. NRC is that cheap, really?

Gets told to go to anger management. Becomes angry at the suggestion. Cycle continues.

In all seriousness though, he definetly benefits from having an impartial person to talk with. "Dead Men Tell No Tales," like who is the ghost going to gossip to? They're bound to the dorm?

Nevermind assistant MC pssshh they're totally not listening in

More than being upset at his overblot, Riddle is thankful for it. It threw him on his ass for a wake-up call, and is now working towards becoming his own person

Kind of funny how his mother acted all superior in her child-rearing, when she completely ignored his mental state. Yeah. He isn't moving back in after graduation.

Leona Kingscholar

He has to be physically forced into therapy. I.E Crowley makes you trick him

He did not trust you much before, but now? Run. Lock the door. Take his magestone and DO NOT let him out of that room

Best listen through the door on this one because he can and will kill you

Anyways. Inferiority complex, anxiety, emotional neglect, stress - plenty to unpack for this one. It's a good thing that the therapist is a ghost, because Leona would have harasses the door key from them somehow

Funny enough, he talks plenty when mad. All the therapist has to do is edge him on and he's raving up a storm.

I don't need stupid therapy...this is all his fault... overblot? Someone say anythin'? why should I care then? Not like I have anything to be ashamed about

Very open-book, just in-directly

In all honesty? Leona's likely not going to get much out of the session. He'll be more willing to come back if it's mandatory since he has a feel for what it's like. I think he has a good sense of what's hurting him after his overblot, and it's not something a third party can fix. He needs to duke it out with his brother back at home.

Azul Ashengrotto

If you thought Riddle was bad, then Azul's cockiness is horrifying. He is seriously trying to act like he can outsmart a therapist with a lifetime of experience. All because he read a few Psychology 101 books.

He was told about the requirement the night prior to his appointment. Why? So he couldn't try to make a contract with the therapist. Also so he couldn't do any research.

Oh yeah. He tries that. The contract thing. It's not even five minutes into the session and he's attempting to swindle the secrets of other patients. After all, the ghost is dead, so private policy who???

Fails

It is actually painful to hear him conjure up a fake life-story. Did he think that Crowley sent the ghost in blind? He did. You filled them in. Azul really needs to take this seriously.

Which is why he is told to come back. Twice a week. Oh, you have a restaurant to run? You want to be expelled? Better show up.

He is the hardest nut to crack and the anxiety this boy holds is so intense-

Ghost therapist makes you go buy a heating pad. He's always got such tense shoulders

Overall, he benefits from the therapy. Ghost therapist has him doing self-affirmations and journaling every day.

They also work on his relationship with food. It's good that he wants to be healthy, but on terms of self-image there is a lot to be done. Azul needs to learn that enemies die quicker when you have thicccc thighs (tentacles) to demolish them with.

^ can be taken in many ways. It's up to you if MC decides to add on their own little affirmation hehe

Kalim Al' Asim

Couple's therapy

The session is more for Jamil, but Kalim has his place. Ghost Therapist is honestly shocked at how well Kalim has reacted to recent events

In short, identity issues again. There are sessions dedicated to Jamil, some for Kalim, and others where Ghost Therapist leads a conversation between the two

Well, for as long as Kalim sits still. He's listening, but gets side tracked so many times.

Jamil and Kalim definitely argue about MC being there. Jamil wants you out, and Kalim is all "do you just...not remember what you put them through? Not cool,"

On that day it was therapy for three

I want to believe that Ghost Therapist touches on Kalim's choice of only eating Jamil's food. Yes, he trust Jamil but that is a lot of pressure on one person. Youa re expecting them to make all of your food, being entirely dependent, etc

As for Jamil, they definitely go into his feelings towards his lineage. Jamil knows who he is, but he can't be that person with those familial blockades.

Yup. Couple's therapy. Hands down.

These two are the most compliant. It took some convincing, but the overblot incident has put strong tensions on both students' relationship with the school. They are not stupid. If it's mandatory then it is mandatory.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

Hello again! How are you?

I had a question about the Skz!Pack if that's ok. So I understand that the Alphas usually have the instinct to be protective of their mates, especially the omegas. I wondered if Omegas also get protective of the Alphas too.

For example, say one of the Alphas got sick or maybe they hurt themselves accidently, would an omega get this instict saying " oh no the alpha isn't happy, something is wrong and I need to go make them feel better." They would just start smothering them with affection and keep trying to cheer them up in their own way because they have the instinct to make their alpha happy right?

(By the way, thank you for continuing to answer these Pack questions even though you were busy traveling a while ago. I enjoy reading them because it helps me learn more about your characters and I find some of the answer scenarios really funny.)

"Oooh this is a good question." Hyunjin remarks offhandedly, as he leans over some of the other pack members to squish Jeongin's full cheeks.

The youngest omega makes a face, but no move to pull away.

"Really good." Felix agrees with a nod, his chin tucked into Jeongin's shoulder, nose buried in the soft material of the youngest's hoodie.

"Alphas tend to experience emotions on a protective sort of scale?" Hyunjin speaks up again, releasing Jeongin now, even as he pinches Jisung's side and makes the beta yelp. "Whereas omegas experience emotions on a comfort scale."

"That's a smart way of looking at it actually." Seungmin compliments thoughtfully, nodding at the oldest omega in respectful admiration.

Hyunjin looks proud. "Thank you." He waves a hand at Chan now. "So like, Channie is head alpha right? So when someone needs something or is struggling or anything is wrong, he usually goes into protective, fix it mode. But when one of the alphas are having a hard time, or any other packmate basically, my first instinct is to cuddle and comfort."

Felix smiles affectionately at Hyunjin. "Yeah, I definitely feel like there's a pull as an omega-and not just because it's stereotypical-to want to nurture and care and watch out for the alphas and other members of the pack."

"Cuddle piles are essential." Jeongin says seriously, his head on Felix's shoulder now. "And nests when someone is having a hard day."

"Hyung doesn't sleep a whole lot, and he never really sleeps well when he does." Felix glances at Chan, who gives him the hint of a smile, which the omega returns. "So when one of us finds out that he's in one of his cycles again, or having trouble sleeping, we usually make an effort to have at least one of us there when he comes home from the studio at night, in his bed, so that he's not alone."

"And I like to make sure that all the alpha-hyungs are eating." Jeongin pipes up, as Minho ruffles his hair fondly. "Sometimes they get busy, or spend too much time at the studios, and they forget to eat. Like it's not a basic life necessity."

"Basically, an omega shows their love and appreciation and worry and any other strong emotion by nurturing." Hyunjin finishes up, flapping his sweater paws as he shrugs. "We just like all our pack mates to be happy, even if that means a little more work for us."

"But I don't like blood." Jeongin crinkles his nose in disgust as Felix laughs. "So if you get hurt, you're on your own."

[caitimetravels]

she’s insignificant

chapter 3: the dangers inside

the umbrella academy x reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: swearing, mentions of death

masterlist

y/n stared at the blue energy in the courtyard before deciding to join her siblings as they rushed to see what it was. as she ran down the stairs she caught sight of klaus holding a fire extinguisher.

"what are you doing?" she caught up with him.

"something" he shrugged, bursting out the door first. "out of the way!"

"thats not going to- klaus what the hell?" y/n went to stop him only to watch as he tried to extinguish the mass of energy. she shook her head in disbelief, stepping beside vanya.

klaus chucked the extinguisher when he realised it wouldn't work.

"what is that gonna do?" allison shouted over the loud noise. klaus threw his hands up.

"i don't know. do you have a better idea?" he stepped back in surprise as another flash came from the portal. luther pulled klaus back.

"everyone get behind me!" and in true sibling rivalry diego nodded, shielding vanya and y/n.

"yeah, get behind us!"

they watched, brows furrowing at the familiar figure that dropped to the ground. as they stepped closer the vortex disappeared.

"is that-?" y/n looked up at vanya, peeking around diego to see.

there, in a too large sized suit, stood their missing brother. he pushed himself to his feet taking in their appearance.

"does anyone else see little number five is that just me?" klaus questioned as they walked closer. the said boy stared down at himself in confusion before looking back at them.

"shit" he cursed.

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

they all moved back into the kitchen, letting five do as he pleased while he explained what he needed to.

he placed a chopping board and knife on the table while the others stood at the other end. y/n stood off to the corner, not entirely comfortable with them after being accused of murder. "what's the date? the exact date"

five walked around, grabbing bread to make himself a sandwich. vanya answered, "the 24th"

"of what?" five pushed walking back over.

"march"

"good" he pulled out two pieces of bread, laying them on the chopping board.

"so, are we going to talk about what just happened?" luther raised an eyebrow, expectantly but five stayed silent. "its been 17 years!" luther stood, frustrated but five wasn't taking any of his bullshit.

"it's been a lot longer than that" the shorter boy walked towards him before blinking behind him to grab the marshmallows. luther sighed,

"i haven't missed that"

"where'd you go?" diego piped up, unfazed.

"the future" five sighed, "and it's shit by the way" he opened up the bag of marshmallows.

"called it!" klaus raised his finger.

"do you want one?" five looked up at y/n, referring to the sandwich, a soft gleam in his eyes. the others shared a look, of course he had only missed her. she gently shook her head with a small smile. "i should have listened to the old man" five walked to the fridge, pulling out a jar. "he knew. travelling through space is one thing, travelling through time is a toss of the dice"

he paused as he opened the peanut butter, looking up at them again before noticing klaus' attire. "nice dress"

"oh, danke" klaus twirled loose material around. allison rolled her eyes.

"how did you get back?"

"in the end i had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time" he continued making his sandwich like he hadn't just shocked them.

"that makes no sense" diego scoffed,

"well, it would if you were smarter" five shrugged, ignoring the way diego stood up to fight him. luther held him back.

"did you put a decimal point in the wrong spot?" y/n asked, surprising the others. she crossed her arms, thinking "it was probably a miscalculation in your proof of the existence of a bound for the number of limit cycles of planar polynomial vector fields of fixed degree."

five paused, thinking it over before realising she was right. "it should have been 0.57" he mumbled.

"how long were you there?" luther changed the subject, obviously confused.

"45 years" five went back to his sandwich making. "give or take"

everyone sat back down in shock.

"so what are you saying? that you're 58?!" luther narrowed his eyes in disbelief. there was no way.

"no" five looked up, speaking through gritted teeth. "my consciousness is 58. apparently my body is now 16 again"

"how does that even work?" vanya croaked out, still shocked at the situation.

"delores kept saying the equations were off" five shrugged, stepping away and looking off into the distance as he took a bite of his sandwich. "bet she's laughing now"

"delores?" vanya asked. y/n froze, he had kept her? at the girl's movement, or lack thereof, allison looked over at her, raising her eyebrows.

y/n shook her head, waving it off.

five picked up the newspaper on the table, staring at the picture of their father.

"hm.. guess i missed the funeral"

"how'd you know about that?" luther questioned, defensive.

"what part of the future do you not understand?" five narrowed his eyes, slightly amused by his brothers incompetence. "heart failure, huh?"

"yeah-" diego started only to be cut off by luther.

"no" there was silence for a moment before a kitchen knife stabbed into the table beside luther's hand.

"if i had murderous intent, luther, you'd be the first on my list" y/n scoffed, walking out.

they all stared after her in shock.

"nice to see nothing's changed" five sighed before following her out.

"thats it?" allison asked, turning towards him as he walked. "thats all you have to say?"

"what else is there to say? circle of life" he called back.

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

vanya walked up to five in the parlour where he stood staring at his painting.

"nice to know dad didn't forget me" five turned to her, "read your book by the way.. found it in the library that was still standing"

he started to walk around, noticing y/n sitting on the balcony above. she had her legs dangling through the bars, calmly reading a book. he turned back to vanya.

"thought it was pretty good, all things considered" he stared her down, "definitely ballsy, giving up the family secrets. sure that went over well"

"they hate me" vanya frowned,

"well there are worse things that can happen" five was obviously trying to cheer her up, in his own way.

"you mean like what happened to ben?" there was a pause, both thinking it over.

"was it bad?" five asked softly, he knew y/n was still listening. he heard the faint sound of a book shutting. he looked away as vanya nodded.

"y/n had a hard time dealing with it.. the worst of all of us. dad forbid her from going on missions after her reaction.."

"her reaction?" five turned back, eyebrows furrowing, this wasn't in vanya's book.

"she nearly tore our souls out.. she was devastated and couldn't control her emotions. dad said it helped her though, something about a new ability. he trained her alone from then, forcing her to find you" vanya shrugged, sighing, going silent.

"find me?" five pushed, "what do you mean find me?"

"she said she did.. did she not?" vanya looked surprised now.

"no, no she did.. just didn't stay long is all" five shook his head, frowning.

"yeah well, they stopped trying when she lied to dad"

"she lied?" five looked back up at where she was previously sitting but now she was gone, the only thing left behind was her book and a wisp of smoke.

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

"ben.. i'm- i'm scared" eight sat cross legged in front of his statue. "my powers are getting stronger and i'm scared to hurt the others. i wish you were still here" she refused to cry no matter how much she wanted to. she couldn't let the same thing happen.

"i'm scared ben. what if i can't control it? what if hurt somebody? you're not here to help me and i-.. it hurts sometimes. dad doesn't understand, he never did but it hurts to suppress my emotions like he wants me to. we try so hard and he still never thinks we're enough.." she paused, pulling her knees up to her chest. "what if i am weak? what if he's right?"

unbeknownst to her ben's ghost sat beside her. "you're not weak" he shook his head, moving to look at her face. "you'll never be weak, you're so strong. please keep being strong for me" he pleaded with her as she continued to blame herself. he hated this. he hated not being there for her. he just wanted her to be okay.

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

y/n walked beside five, standing under his umbrella with him. they didn't speak as they walked back out into the courtyard. the siblings all stood in line with luther in front of them, carrying their dad's ashes.

"did something happen?" grace looked at them all, smiling despite the occasion. they all looked up at her.

"dad died.." allison answered, confused. "remember?"

"oh, yes of course" grace nodded, expression turning more somber.

"is mom okay?" allison asked, now worried about how grace was acting.

"yeah, yeah she's fine" diego quickly defended, "she just needs to rest, you know, recharge" allison looked incredulous but dropped it nonetheless.

pogo stepped forwards, looking up at luther. "whenever you're ready, dear boy"

luther breathed out, opening the lid and dropping the ashes in a pitiful pile. they all frowned.

"probably would have been better with some wind" luther griped,

"does anyone wish to speak?" pogo ignored it, looking at the rest of them. everyone stayed silent, looking away. "very well.. in all regards, sir reginald hargreeves made me what i am today, for that alone i shall forever be in his debt. he was my master and my friend and i shall miss him very much.." he paused, "he leaves behind a complicated legacy-"

"he was a monster" diego cut off, still staring down at the ashes. klaus laughed. "he was bad person and a worse father. the world's better off without him-"

"diego" allison scolded, glaring at him in surprise.

"my name is number two. you know why?" he looked over at her. "because our father couldn't be bothered to give us actual names, he had mom do it"

"would anyone like something to eat?" grace asked, smiling again, unaware of what was happening.

"no, its okay mom" vanya denied, albeit confused.

"oh, okay"

"look, you wanna pay your respects" diego stepped out in front of them, "go head, but at least be honest about the kind of man he was" he looked at pogo now.

"you should stop talking now" luther warned, anger growing. diego glared at him for a moment before fully turning to face him.

"you know, you of all people should be on my side here, number one"

"i am warning you-" diego ignored him,

"after everything he did to you" y/n sighed, crossing her arms to her chest, fighting wasn't going to fix any of them. klaus and five shared a look. "he had to ship you a million miles away"

"diego stop talking-" luther tried again. diego was definitely hitting a nerve. he jabbed a finger into luther's chest.

"that's how much he couldn't stand the sight of you!" luther grabbed his arm and swung at his head. diego ducked. they begun fighting while everyone else backed away.

"boys! stop this at once!" pogo attempted to stop them, moving back despite this.

klaus held an arm out to shield five and y/n. the former slapped it away. they continued to fight, diego egging him on and landing several punches. klaus began to chant while vanya yelled at them to stop.

"klaus" y/n warned, gaining both his and five's attention. her eyes were turning black, she was struggling.

"y/n? are you okay?" five hadn't been there, he didn't know what she would do if she lost control. pogo walked away, not wanting to stay. klaus nervously watched y/n while the others watched luther and diego fight.

"i don't have time for this" five sighed, beginning to walk away, leaving y/n with klaus under his small pink umbrella.

that was when it happened. y/n froze as they knocked ben's statue.

"aw" klaus complained while allison glared at them.

"and there goes ben's statue"

"klaus?" y/n's voice scared them all. she sounded weak. she gripped his jacket, tightly. "klaus"

"what's wrong?" he looked down at her, watching as she fought her emotions. her eyes were turning black but she kept fighting it.

diego pulled out his knife and vanya's shouting at him to stop made it harder for y/n to calm herself. he threw it at luther, cutting his arm.

"klaus" she called again and he held her arm unsure of what to do. "i-i can't.. i can't-" she let out a pained whine as her eyes darkened, she was letting go. suddenly diego and luther let out shouts of pain.

"what's going on?!" allison watched them, confused and distraught. vanya quickly left their mother's side, pulling y/n into her.

"its okay, you're okay" vanya whispered to her, trying to calm her. "it can be fixed, you're okay, just relax. try to relax" listening to vanya's heartbeat she slowly calmed down, the blackness of her eyes seeping away and diego and luther straightened, no longer in pain.

y/n stared at them in shock and guilt before shaking her head and running inside. she locked herself in her room again. she was truly a demon.

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

one by one the siblings left, y/n watched sadly as they all abandoned her again. she was always left alone, the family problems only got bigger when they got together. she sighed, maybe she was better off alone.

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

y/n looked up from her book as she heard frantic footsteps around the mansion. peeking out her door she noticed vanya slowing down in front of five's room.

"oh thank god" she disappeared through his doorway but y/n could still hear her voice. "i was worried sick about you"

five had talked to vanya? why hadn't he come to her?

"sorry i left without saying goodbye" five's voice answered softly. what had he been doing? y/n quietly left her room to hear better. she wanted to be apart of her brother's plans too. she didn't want to be left out anymore.

"no, i'm the one that should be sorry. i was dismissive and i guess i didn't know how to process what you were saying.." vanya paused, "i still can't to be honest"

"maybe you were right to be dismissive" five huffed, that didn't sound like him at all? what was he really doing? "maybe it wasn't real after all.. it felt real. but well, like you said the old man did say time travel could contaminate the mind"

well vanya referred him to a therapist y/n tried to sense the room. something else was going on. carefully using her power she felt another person.. klaus. when vanya walked out y/n quickly turned to smoke, gliding along the floor, past five who watched vanya leave. klaus pulled himself out of the closet.

"that's so touching, all that stuff about family and dad and time"

"will you shut up? she'll hear you" five warned him, walking back over.

"you're lying to vanya?" y/n appeared next to klaus, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

"it's nothing you should worry about" five dismissed before looking klaus over again. "i thought i told you to put on something professional"

"what? this my nicest outfit" klaus gestured to it. y/n snorted when five scoffed.

"we'll raid the old man's closet"

"whatever, as long as i get paid" klaus shrugged, beginning to walk behind five.

"when the job is done" they stopped just above the stairs.

"so, where are we going?" she followed along, smiling innocently at five who raised an eyebrow at her.

"not we, just klaus and i" five shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"five" she frowned,

"y/n" he mocked.

"just let me come, please don't leave me in the dark. i just want to help you" she pleaded, she had missed him.

he thought it over before sighing, "fine" he turned to walk again but klaus stopped him.

"but just so we're clear on the finer details" he waved his hand around, talking over the plan. "i just got to go into this place and pretend to be your dear old dad, correct?"

"yeah, something like that" five agreed, exasperated.

"what's our cover story?" klaus continued, ignoring five's look of annoyance.

"what? what are you talking about?" five shared a confused look with y/n who shrugged.

"i mean was i young when i had you, like 16.. like young and terribly misguided" five agreed just to get him to stop but he didn't. "your mother, that slut, whoever she was, we met at.. the disco and you can be his sister"

"i am his sister?" y/n raised an eyebrow, but klaus only smiled, clicking his fingers.

"okay, remember that. oh my god the sex was amazing"

y/n scoffed, walking away first, five following. "what a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain"

"don't make me put you in time out" klaus waved a finger at him.

as they walked out the door onto the street y/n paused.

"what's wrong, baby sis?" klaus asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "you're not backing out already?"

"no!" she quickly denied, looking up at him as she snapped out of her starstruck daze. "it's just.. i haven't left the house in 16 years.."

klaus and five shared a sorrowful look. what had happened to her?

tags: @rxses-and-reverie

[birthdaycakeplate]

💕Continued ceasefire AU, but just Bumblebee doting on his injured man (I am humiliating myself further. As a treat.)

— ———-

Blitzwing separates his servos from where they’d been grasping the corners of the horrible makeshift berth. The moment he’d been cleared to leave the medbay, he’d wandered off with helm held high before succumbing pathetically in the safety of his room. Ratchet was through babysitting him, now worrying over injecting some sense into a battered Prime with needlework they’d both rather have avoided, and ordered him to his quarters- *without flying*.

Well, duh, he’d only just fixed this splitting ache of a wing a few cycles ago, and he’d already nearly gotten his wingtips sheered off. Another trip to medbay, nothing excruciatingly serious, but he’d failed (purposely) to mention how it’d made the nearly healed wound in his underwing throb to life again.

Ratchet’s spectacular medical prowess was no match for a war frame’s personal baggage. What kind of Decepticon (was he even one of those still? Was Megatron really getting closer and closer every astrosecond to throwing old resentment out the window for a gaggle of crazed repair bots?) would he be if he allowed himself to show weakness and buckle under a little pain?

He’d be a terrible one, considering. That didn’t mean he was above quietly taking it out on his berth once away from prying optics. He scraped at the metal, warped it with thick, gouging claws, and held the edges in a death grip as a wave of unholy heat seared the sensors inside the near invisible seam Ratchet’s welder had left.

Logically, and Blitzwing genuinely preferred to conduct himself through the logical side of things, he should of told Ratchet. Logically, he should gather himself up with what pride he had left and go tell the medicbot now...

Logically.

And he definitely would once the others had been tended to. He would, for sure.

Blitzwing flicked his wings, spite getting the better of him, and melted as much as a body tense with sensor pricking pain could into his berth. He lay there with his cheekplate smashed into a fresh claw mark and waited for recharge to prioritize itself over any subroutines screaming at him to scratch at his healing wounds like some carnal instinct.

He was no more closer to restful stasis hours later when a timid knock sounded at his door.

“Ja?” He replied, helm snapping up, listening.

“U-um...” It was the bug bot.

Blitzwing peeled himself away and stood at attention.

“Come in.”

Bumblebee was allowed entry, and he wasted no time in filling up the room with his unique... Bumblebee-ness. Blitzwing was finding it harder and harder to dislike the rambunctious slagger’s presence.

“Hey, how come I’ve never been in here before? There’s nothing here! Why do you always tell me to buzz off?”

“Because jou’re name’s Bumblebee, and it’s funny. Is jour room a cluttered heap or sumving?” What mysteries was the minibot hiding in his significantly smaller room? He talked a lot about video games. Maybe whatever those were.

“Pssh, oh, slag, yeah. Haven’t seen the floor in ages.” The minibot shrugged, surveying the disturbing blankness of Blitzwing’s walls. No shelves either.

“But that’s not the point. I didn’t come here to talk about what it’s like to have a personality.”

Good, Blitzwing had enough of those, thanks. A ‘cool’ one wasn’t necessary when ‘crazy’ was keeping company.

He arched an optic ridge.

“Oh? And vut did you come here for?”

WHIRR

“To clog my processor with your nonsense ramblings?!”

“Well, in a way... sorta.”

Bumblebee was either brave or stupid- likely both- when he made the decision to come any closer to a moody Blitzwing. A third option was simply that he was becoming immune to the unpredictability bound to accompany their conversations. Lugnut had fairly quickly, once he’d realized the triple changer wasn’t a threat. To a fellow Con, at least.

The only hint of a sensible Autobot still rattling around in that reckless little body was his obvious concern upon seeing the state of the berth. Blitzwing could do that to him- cut him into ribbons, crush him with a bare palm. Snap his servos off without more than a pinch.

That, surprisingly, didn’t seem to be his issue with the shredded slab, though.

“I came to see if you’re ok... Doesn’t look like it...”

Blitzwing felt an unwelcome warmth in his faceplates.

“Zis mess of metal isn’t sturdy enough for my frame, zat’s all. I can’t get comfortable without punching a hole in it somevere... So annoying.”

It was sort of true, but also mostly just an embarrassing attempt to reroute his clear misery from Bee’s understanding of the situation. War frames should be better about hiding these soft parts of themselves. *He* should be better.

When he spun back to blue, looking down into wide optics, he noticed Bumblebee had closed the few extra steps between them.

“Wow, ok.” He snorted.

“*That* was a whole buncha lies, wasn’t it? I mean, come on, Bulkhead can’t go a cycle without smashing something, and he’s managed to keep his berth in one piece.”

Frustrated, Blitzwing was prepared to enforce the unspoken rule of being *polite* in other people’s personal spaces, but before he could label him a lousy guest and usher him out, Bumblebee bowed his helm, little servos clutching tight over his chest. Looking even smaller somehow.

A frown pulling the corner of his lips down.

Blitzwing wasn’t sure what was coming, only that he felt immensely responsible for making the bug look so tiny like that.

“Your wing still hurts, huh?” It wasn’t really a question, and Blitzwing hated that he’d been exposed again, and so easily. Bumblebee was either more in tune to him than he’d realized, or his other war type companions had just gone so long ignoring whenever their comrades were biting back grimaces and struggling to ex-vent through pain.

Or he was being an obvious slaghead with his berth on full display for Bee to see, and he never should have let him in.

“You want me to go get Ratchet?”

“Did jou vant me to get Ratchet when jou dented your helm jumping into a ravine?”

“That’s not the same- this is serious, Blitz.”

“Jour *helm* isn’t *serious*?”

Bumblebee tilted his chin up to meet the bigger mech’s gaze, looking surprisingly less like his bubbly self and more sober than Blitzwing’d seen him in a long time. And all on his account...

First Ratchet, then Sari, then Optimus. Now Bumblebee was expressing some kind of concern for him. So odd...

“I won’t sell you out- Ratchet will figure it out on his own, you know....” Bumblebee huffed. Trying to buy time to gather his courage once more.

“But I... y’know. I could polish the welding. I mean, you totally can’t tell it’s there, you war frames heal fast as frag. But, like... I could... make it better? Somehow?”

Oh.

This was *different* than how the other ones had worried. This was different...

How hadn’t he noticed? And for how long?

The thought of Bumblebee interested in him... this was just...

His wings flickered of their own accord- truly embarrassing- and he was thankful the minibot wouldn’t understand what that meant as a grounder.

“Ah, um, vell....” Blitzwing was ashamed to say he was seriously considering it.

“Zere’s no need. It’ll be good as new soon enough.”

Bumblebee didn’t seem discouraged by this. Maybe he did know what a set of engaging wing struts meant. Primus, he hoped not.

“That’s cool, totally cool.... I could just... just... knead your hinges instead.” He shrugged like *that* wasn’t one of the most intimate suggestions Blitzwing’d ever had a friend make.

“No pressure, just, um. If you want.”

Yeah, he did. Which is exactly why it couldn’t happen. What would Megatron and Optimus say? Was this mutiny? Enemy sympathizing? What were they supposed to be faction wise, again? There were still factions, definitely... but they were all just taking a break. Or...?

Bumblebee was possessed by some spirit from the well of sparks that wasn’t his own, telling him to act as foolish and recklessly as he wanted with a war class giant, multiple scales bigger than him and equally as aggressive, by pushing him to sit on the berth.

Blitzwing was possessed, too, for letting him move him without hesitance. Completely susceptible to his advances even, as Bumblebee couldn’t have pushed him an inch anywhere without his compliance.

How unbecoming.

How disgraceful.

How-

Bumblebee climbed up after him faster than Blitzwing could process in this state and slid his servos right against his injured wing at its hinge. Having zero understanding of the sensitive piece, beyond knowing that it was just that, or that cleaning the hinge was more beneficial to release pressure than physically stimulating it, Bumblebee’s digits running over the smooth metal was surprisingly, absolutely *divine*.

Blitzwing’d only ever been touched there for assemblings or reformations. Frag, those little yellow fingers wedging into otherwise unreachable places while Blitzwing wrapped his wings around towards his front was the stuff of fantasies. Ones he’d never entertained personally, but now that he knew what it was like, oh Primus.

Warm palms pushed with the grain of the hinge’s rollers. Working heat into his aching joints there that essentially melted Blitzwing to his core.

This served no purpose, other than as Bumblebee’s gentle attempt to ease his comrade’s suffering. Blitzwing couldn’t say it was too ineffective in that regard, though, considering he was near mewling at this point. When had that happened?

“This ok still?”

Blitzwing answered his utterly ridiculous question by turning face down to stretch out over the berth. Bee scurrying out of his way, though a hand refused to release its grip on his hinge, as they repositioned themselves. Blitzwing didn’t even register the slight weight straddling the low of his back until he was drifting in and out of recharge and forced every so often to assess his environment and determine the risk of stasis.

Each time he immediately concluded he was free of gunfire and cold wind and somewhere perfectly safe, ideal even- scratched berth or not. So long as he had Bumblebee with him, digging digits into lax wings, he’d be alright.

The likelihood that it’d be more than acceptable for him to ask for a repeat of this in the future, considering Bee’s enthusiasm, was comforting enough to see him through an entire recharge.

——- —-

Please stop me.

[unforth]

Today I'm Thinking About...

...Sui Zhou and Tang Fan's first kiss.

I'm a bit of a slow reader, but I've been plugging away at The Fourteenth Year of Chenghua since, like, March, and I'm in the low chapter 80s now, and the slow burn is getting more and more brutal now that Sui Zhou definitely definitely recognizes that he is hopelessly in love and Tang Fan is still a clueless dumbass solidly in "I always feel so happy when Sui Zhou is around I wonder what's up with that" and it's killing me.

(eta: Okay, I'm going to pretend this was intentionally written as a fill for today's May Trope Mayhem, which is The Grumpy One is Soft for the Sunshine one. I...didn't actually plan it to be that...but then it go long and fuck it, might as well make it count...) @duckprintspress

So I was just thinking, like...

Tang Fan has been working a case, and he was in danger, and Sui Zhou has just heard that Tang Fan needs rescuing...when Tang Fan walks in the front door of Sui Zhou's house. The panic instantly switches to relief, then to annoyance when Tang Fan looks at Sui Zhou like he cannot fathom why Sui Zhou was freaking out.

"It's no big deal," Tang Fan laughs it off. "I'm totally fine! You're over reacting."

"I am NOT," Sui Zhou replies, the mess of emotions making is voice loud as he slams a hand against the door behind Tang Fan, trapping Tang Fan in place. (kabedon!) "I do not over-react. You under-react. I know you, Runqing. I know you wouldn't tell me even if you'd been in mortal danger. Tell me, truly, how serious was it?"

And Tang Fan opens his mouth to answer with a light-hearted jibe only to find he can do nothing but swallow the words, because Sui Zhou is staring at him so intensely, his eyes so bright and dark and gorgeous, his expression so fixed and serious. His heart starts racing worse than it had when he (definitely hadn't been!) in peril, and he can't imagine why.

"I can't..." Sui Zhou catches his lip between his teeth, manages a slow blink in a clear effort to calm himself down, takes a deep breath, and continues, "Just promise me that next time, you'll ask for help if you need it."

"I always ask for help when I think I need it," lies Tang Fan blithely. Why does Sui Zhou care so much, anyway? Why do I like that he cares so much? "But it's not like I can predict ahead of time when things will go sideways. Not that anything went sideways this time! Really, it's no big deal. You know the job I do, just like I know the job you do. Danger's part of the deal. You don't need to--"

"You don't need to go looking for it," interrupts Sui Zhou. He knows he sounds harsher than he wants to. He knows he's acting inappropriately. He's still got Tang Fan pinned against the door, still has their faces barely a hand's width apart, still can feel his heart in his throat, still wants...still needs...he tries another slow blink, but it gets him absolutely fucking no where. There's such a cacophony of words in his head, Don't you understand, Runqing? I need you. I love you. I don't know what I'd do without you. I can't - I can't - I can't-- but there was no speaking a one of them aloud. Tang Fan doesn't look at him that way. Sui Zhou knows that. He does. And--

"Why do you care so much?" whispers Tang Fan, and Sui Zhou's blood goes to ice. One touch, one word, even the faintest quirk of a smile on Tang Fan's achingly kissable lips, and Sui Zhou is going to shatter.

How can he possible answer that question?

And why is Sui Zhou choosing now to be silent? Tang Fan cycles rapidly through potential reactions - should he laugh it off? Brush Sui Zhou's arm aside (as if he could do that, unless Sui Zhou lets him, and oh, thinking about how strong that arm just over his shoulder truly is shouldn't be so tempting)? Duck and run away? Open the door so they both tumble into the street beyond and return to his own home next door? Call for Dong-er?

Yet, to his amazement, before Tang Fan can finish planning and implementing an escape plan. Sui Zhou actually speaks.

"How..." Hoarse with emotion, Sui Zhou pauses, licks his lips - which is far, far more distracting than Tang Fan would ever have imagined - then continues. "...how do you not know, Runqing?"

Every instinct demands Tang Fan act like this is somehow a joke. He knows it's not - he knows Sui Zhou better than he knows anyone, better than he knows himself sometimes he thinks, and there is absolutely no way Sui Zhou would joke about something like this. Tang Fan wants to know, but what if it's not the answer he hopes for? (What answer does he hope for?) Tang Fan wants to guess, but what if he guesses wrong? (What would he guess, if he had to?) Tang Fan yearns, craves Sui Zhou's presence, but most days even he's not sure what that means, how is he supposed to know what that means? (No matter what Guangchuan says next, will Tang Fan even know how to answer it?)

He desperately prays that Sui Zhou will continue before Tang Fan has to formulate an answer...

...but Sui Zhou holds silent, trembling, battling inner demons as fiercely as he's ever fought a cult member or foe. He must not, cannot, tell Tang Fan the truth. He's already said more than he should have. He should move his arm, walk away, but every muscle feels locked, this brief moment stretching to an eternity. He can see no exit from this situation, not positive outcome. Whatever he says or doesn't say, won't Tang Fan be upset with him? Wouldn't Sui Zhou be upset with Tang Fan, if their situations were reversed?

Fuck. No. Never. If somehow they swapped places, if somehow Tang Fan were on the verge of confessing the emotions Sui Zhou knows himself to cherish toward Tang Fan, knows Tang Fan to have no inkling of toward Sui Zhou...wouldn't Sui Zhou give anything to hear Tang Fan say those words?

What if he's waiting for me, right now, hoping I'll speak?

"Guangchuang--"

"Runqing--"

"Oh, you first!"

"No - no, you continue."

"Guangchuang...please...just talk to me."

After this moment, they will never be able to go back to how they were before this.

Steeling himself as though about to face a line of dauntless enemies with their swords all drawn, Sui Zhou leans forward and breaths in Tang Fan's ear, "I need you, Tang Fan."

The words ruffle, hot and breezy, through Tang Fan's hair. He has no idea what they mean. Sui Zhou is so close that Tang Fan can feel him trembling, feel his tension, feel his fear. Analyses like mathematical computations race through Tang Fan's head - things he can say, ways Sui Zhou could react, hypothetical simulations of what might happen next, permutation upon permutation playing out over and over until Tang Fan is lost. He still has no idea what to say. For once in his whole damn life, he is speechless. But, he does know one thing with utmost certainty:

If Sui Zhou walks away - if Sui Zhou leaves him - he will break, crumble to his knees, sob his life away on the spot.

He doesn't know what that means, what that emotion equals.

I need you, Tang Fan.

He does know what that means, what that emotion equals.

"I need you, too, Sui Zhou," he whispers. A distressed, shuddery sound leaks from Sui Zhou; he shifts back, his warmth and musky, armory scent fading, and Tang Fan semi-unconsciously, semi-intentionally follows him, leaning forward, chasing him --

And then Sui Zhou crashes back into Tang Fan's space, crashes their mouths together, rough lips brushing on soft ones, the arm that had him trapped against the door now curling around his shoulders, roughly pulling him close, disheveling his robes, tangling in his hair.

"Guangchuan," and Tang Fan intends to exclaim the name in shock, but Sui Zhou is too close, and Tang Fan's body is too hot, and his thoughts are too muddled, and the word comes out as a groan dragged long and slow and sultry against Sui Zhou's lips.

"Runqing," Sui Zhou replies fervently, like a prayer, like a blessing. Tang Fan's sweet taste lingers on his mouth and Sui Zhou craves more - he leans in to brush their lips together again, and again, sucking gently at Tang Fan's lower lip as he draws away than dives in again to seize another kiss, another. I should stop. This is too much. He's still trapped. I mustn't--

And Tang Fan lifts an arm to encircle Sui Zhou's neck, raises his other hand to cup Sui Zhou's cheek and tug him into another kiss as if he senses the hesitation about to lead Sui Zhou to draw away, and arches his body to match the curve of Sui Zhou leaning over him.

"Oh..." breathes Sui Zhou. Oh, this is perfect...this is everything I've ever wanted...Tang Fan...my incredible, beloved Tong Fan... The words will never come, so Sui Zhou tries to explain them with his body language - with every whisper of lips on lips, with every caress of hand over lithe, robed body, with every press of hips and chests and thighs, with every reverent exhale and urgent inhale.

In Sui Zhou's embrace, with their mouths joined, with their growing arousal impossible to conceal, Tang Fan's mind has gone perfectly, wonderfully silent, one single truth singing in his head.

He finally, finally has figured out what the morass of conflicting feelings he's experienced mean. They never were conflicting. They simply sang in a harmony Tang Fan had never heard before, one that was missing several instruments. Now that Sui Zhou is so close, now that they're touching, sharing, feeling in tandem, the melody is complete and the meaning is so clear that Tang Fan can't believe he didn't realize it sooner. He'd always thought himself so perspicacious, yet somehow he never realized...

"I love you, Guangchuan."

...what a full he'd been.

"Runqing," says Sui Zhou reverently, trying to get closer, trying to hold him more closely, trying to make it clear to Tang Fan how cherished he is, to demonstrate exactly, precisely why he cares so much when Tang Fan stumbles into danger. "Runqing, Runqing, Runqing, Run--"

"Hey!" Dong-er's voice, sharp and familiar, interrupts. They jump apart like they've been burned, Sui Zhou leaping a stride away, Tang Fan colliding with the door. "Are you two done yet? Cause I'm not gonna just cook this whole meal alone, you know!"

"Right, right," mumbles Sui Zhou, adjusting certain...betraying...parts of his anatomy to be more concealed. Robes. Very good clothing items, Robes.

"Does that mean you expect me to cook?" Tang Fan asks with an air of innocence.

"No!" they both snap at him.

And, to the beautiful sound of Tang Fan's laughter - to the gorgeous chorus of Sui Zhou and Tang Fan laughing together, of Dong-er acting like she's seen precisely nothing unexpected or out of the ordinary, to the crackle of the fire and sizzle of meat in the pan - they walk toward the kitchen together.

No matter what happens after this - always, always together.

...

oops this got long. *sweat drop*

Anyway, yeah, that's what I'm thinking about today.

[skinnyducky]

good in bed // v.h.

Hey...how y’all doing? I have halfway recovered from my wisdom teeth surgery and I definitely was feeling a bit sad not posting and whatnot. But, here I am now, so I hope you enjoy this one. Pt. 3 to Party at Y/n’s is most likely coming Monday. And, Pt. 2 to Maneater is coming Wednesday (hopefully). Any who, hope you enjoy! Also, this is very much inspired by Dula Peep’s “Good in Bed.”

Word Count: 1336, edited 

WARNING: mentions of sex, arguing, angst, language, and i think that’s it.

---------

The start of yours and Vinnie’s relationship was like ice cream on hot summer day. It was sweet, it was refreshing, and it was much needed. After being cheated on by your ex, you needed to find something to bring the love back…and that’s exactly what Vinnie did. The two of you had met after accidentally buying the same car. You bickered and fought over the vintage vehicle before he ultimately decided to let you keep it…but only if you gave him your number. You happily did so and long story short, that led to a beautiful relationship…or at least what was a beautiful relationship.

As the relationship went on, you found that the so-called “honeymoon phase” was really just a phase. For you and Vinnie, it lasted for a least a good two weeks. What started as late night conversations before bed shifted into heated debates and hate-filled goodnights. The butterflies that fluttered around had died, and now your stomach was overflowed with enraged hornets. You didn’t know what was the cause of your downfall, and you weren’t even sure that there was anything that could fix it.

Well…you knew one thing that definitely fixed it: sex. The term “angry sex” seemed like a myth. You thought people were just overhyping it…until you were actually living it. You remember the first time it happened; you were pissed that he didn’t show up to dinner with your parents, while he was pissed because you hadn’t stopped yelling at him for a good hour. The two of you argued for hours, and as an attempt to get you to stop, Vinnie grabbed you by your waist and tossed you onto his bed. It was silent, the only sound being the heavy breathing from both of you. Next thing you know, the two of you are going at it.

Ever since then, that’s all you two did: fight and screw, then pretend like nothing ever happened. As nice as the sex was, it just was too toxic for you. You didn’t want to be stuck in an endless cycle and having to resort to sex to solve your problems. And also, you wanted Vinnie to know you for more than just your body. With that being said, you figured the solution to that was to communicate. Something you two did none of.

So, here you were in Vinnie’s room, sitting on his bed and waiting for him to finish streaming. While scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to say. You didn’t know how to talk about your feelings, it was completely foreign to you. Ugh, this was going to be difficult.

“…I love you guys, bye chat.”

Vinnie stopped streaming and turned around in his seat to face you. You pursed his lips and started fiddling with his thumbs. “So, what did you wanna talk about?”

“I think you know.” You said, not meeting his eyes.

“Is this the talk? You’re breaking up with me aren’t you?”

You shook your head, laughing to yourself at the boy’s stupidity. “No, Vinnie…I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Then why does it feel like you are?”

“I promise, I’m not. I just wanna try to communicate, y’know. Like other couples do.”

He shrugged. “Don’t we already do that?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call our exploration of each other’s bodies ‘communicating.’ Besides, you and I both know that our relationship isn’t the same as before. It’s like we’ve grown cold towards each other or something.”

“Is this because I forgot our anniversary?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

You gave him a puzzled look for a minute, trying to figure out when your anniversary actually was. Had you forgot too? Damn, this relationship really was trash.

“Uhm, no…this isn’t about that. Although, we really need to mark our anniversary on our calendars.”

“Then what’s this about, Y/n?”

You sighed and stood up from your spot on his bed. You paced in front of him, trying to figure out the right words to say. “Vinnie…I’m tired. I’m tired of always arguing and then having angry sex…which is amazing, by the way.”

He squinted his eyes at you as he thought about what you said. “So…are you mad about the arguing or the sex?”

“Oh my god, why is this so hard?” you groaned. “I’m mad about all of it, Vin. I’m mad that we just can’t talk to each other. I’m mad that when we do have time together, we spend it arguing. I’m mad that the only way for us to enjoy each other’s company is to have sex. I’m just tired of it all.”

“Then, let’s just end the relationship.”

You stopped your pacing and stared at him with wide eyes. “I just told you I didn’t wanna break up.”

Vinnie chuckled, “I know that Y/n, but if you’re really feeling that way…then just leave.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now. You actually want to just break up? Aren’t you going to at least talk to me about what you’re feeling? Aren’t you gonna fight for us?”

“You wanna know what I’m feeling, Y/n?” Vinnie asked. You nodded, egging him to continue. “I’m feeling…very hungry right now. I want a fat burger and a fat fry with a fat shake to go along with it. That’s exactly what I’m feeling right now. And if the relationship is already going to hell…why fight for it? I say let it die.”

He then proceeded to hop out of his seat and dance around his room, chanting “let it die, let it die…let it shrivel up and die” while clapping.

You just stood there with nothing to say. You couldn’t believe that he was taking this all as a joke. You just poured your entire heart to him, trying to fix your relationship, and he’s sitting here quoting The Lorax and acting like a child. At this point, you were sure that there was no hope for the two of you and you were fine with that. You weren’t going to be driven mad by this anymore.

“You’re a fucking joke.” You growled, picking up your keys off his bed. “Y’know, I wish we hadn’t met each other because I’d be way better off if I didn’t even know you.”

“That’s not saying a lot, babe. You’d probably still be with the same dickhead who cheated on you.”

You scoffed, feeling the hornets in your stomach get their stingers ready. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m saying I made your life better. You wouldn’t be who you are today if it wasn’t for me.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d be stuck in here, playing video games and withering away if I hadn’t come along.”

Vinnie huffed, holding back a laugh. “At least I don’t have to deal with video games nagging at me all the time.”

“Jerk!” you yelled, rushing to his door. You stood in the doorway, turning around to look back at him. “I never want to see you again, you hear me? NEVER again, Vincent. You’re dead to me.”

Slamming the door behind you, you made your way down the hallway of the Hype House. But before you could go any further, something stopped you. A feeling of sadness washed over you and your anger subsided. The hornets that once threatened to pour out of you had now calmed down. At that moment, you felt your body tremble as sin known as lust flowed through your veins. You swallowed hard, trying to keep yourself from rushing back into Vinnie’s room and pouncing on him…but there was nothing you could do to stop yourself.

“Screw it,” you whispered.

You turned around and darted towards Vinnie’s room. Bursting through the door, you tackled him onto the bed and well…you know the rest. You knew going through this all over again was bad, that it was causing more damage to your relationship. It was definitely sad…but that’s what made you good in bed.