#and parents who genuinely seem really nasty

[angstandhappiness]

Intriguing!

So... What do you think about revisiting Danny phantom in general? Revisiting the fandom I've noticed a lot of fanfic that have Danny's parents finding out his deal rather violently, or generally having more violence/angst than the original show..

I’m assuming you’re sending me this ask because of my recent burst of Danny Phantom art, so, it’s probably not a surprise to say I’m doing a certain amount of revisiting myself, and certainly not about to shame anyone else for it. It was a very dear cartoon to me in many ways and left some enduring hallmarks on my own writing, and I can absolutely understand people feeling the same way.

That said, as someone who’s been in this fandom for a while, albeit quietly- there certainly is a thread of macabre interest in fandom spaces, one I don’t always know that I agree with, especially when it comes to the Fentons.

My personal verdict on the Fenton parents specifically is I think they are not handled fairly by canon. This is a problem that Danny Phantom as a show shares with Fairly Odd Parents, though I would argue the Turner parents in FOP are quite a bit worse at this.

Roughly, I think how the Fenton parents are canonically depicted suffers from a phenomenon that affects many parts of the show: DP, as a series, has a bit of a sense of confused priorities between comedy and drama, and as a result, what’s 'real’ in-universe and what’s “just supposed to be a joke”. The kind of humor that DP tends to spring for is exaggerated or shocking behavior- it also tends to be a humor that hinges on the idea that other people are generally inconvenient to the main character. So humor-characterization is inconsistent here- Jack is negligent until it’s more inconvenient to depict him as overbearing (see: Girl’s Night Out and other cases he desperately wants to bond with Danny) he’s a recluse only loved by his wife until it’s more inconvenient to depict him as having an active social life (Masters Of All Time and that he and Maddie are going to a themed party so they’re dressed ‘weirdly’ in public)

A big victim of this is Jack’s sense that ghosts aren’t people and his desire to dissect them. Because here is the thing: it’s all talk, in the worst way. It hinges on the idea Jack- someone who knows enough of what he’s doing that along with Maddie and, in the past, Vlad- ripped two different holes in reality hard enough to permanently alter someone’s relation to undeath- has never seen a ghost before the series as he says in Mystery Meat.

The series has a big problem where it hinges on the Fentons’ inventions and expertise but also wants to treat them like idiots constantly. And if you notice how much I’m talking exclusively about Jack- that’s part of the problem. Maddie, in many ways, outside of episodes that throw her a bone, despite constantly being told by people she’s too good for Jack, is really treated as an extension of Jack. Masters Of All Time even suggests that her choosing Jack in the first place was just a path of least resistance between her two college friends, and she’d have married whichever one stuck around. 

The Fentons are not respected as experts, so Jack is given his ignorant line about dissecting a ghost. The Fentons need to remain exaggerated, ridiculous, an inconvenience to Danny- so they threaten his alter ego and point guns at him, but this is funny and not serious and not a reason to be worried about them as parents, because they are not on Danny’s level. Nobody is ever on Danny’s level. There is literally an episode called The Ultimate Enemy. The antagonist is an evil future Danny. The only person who could ever be Danny’s ultimate nemesis is Danny himself. 

And when the series stops milking the Fentons for jokes about how they’re so stupid and how Jack is an idiot and Maddie married that idiot but even she doesn’t respect him even though she loves him and dutifully follows him everywhere and god how can these people care about ghosts they’re so ignorant and out of their league- 

-then it kinda shuffles its feet awkwardly and goes, yeah. the Fentons love each other, and love their kids.

Yeah, Jack has framed photographs of Maddie, Jazz, and Danny on his personal workstation.

Yeah, in Mystery Meat Jack was seriously debating walking away from his lifework because it upset one of his kids. 

Yeah, every time in canon the Fentons find out Danny’s secret they’re immediately all in supporting him.

Yeah, even not knowing it’s Danny, Jack has an amiable conversation with him in Million Dollar Ghost and the ghost containment units designed by the Fentons get some jokes about that they’re a little cramped but they aren’t horrifying prisons of inhumanity- and as soon as Danny Phantom the ghost boy has a good point, Jack lets him go on purpose. 

Yeah, Jack is a competent ghost hunter who can take on Skulker and win as well as beat down the giant lake monster Skulker brought with him in Girls’ Night Out and would do this in a heartbeat, no jokes and no sidetracks, because that monster just chewed on his baby boy and nobody does that to his baby boy.

Yeah, Maternal Instinct is an entire episode of Maddie throwing hands with (or deceiving and manipulating) literally anything she thinks was responsible for getting Danny in this dangerous situation.

...And then the series says “but that’s not funny! Here, have jokes about the Fenton Stockades, that exist and have spikes and Jack wants to put his kids in them for time out, when the spikes apparently don’t hurt given Jack is not injured for being put in there. Here, have a joke about Jack attacking Jazz with a vacuum cleaner because he gets hellbent on the idea she’s possessed for no good reason. Here, have an uncomfortable joke about how badly Jack Fenton wants to vivisect a ghost while it screams. Funny funny funny. Why- why are you flinching?”

It basically creates a comedic situation where the show is constantly winding up like it’s gonna punch you- with the idea that the Fentons are bad parents and this has consequences for Danny and Jazz personally- and then laughs in your face if you flinch. It’ll never actually punch you- but it will sure keep swinging its hand really close to your face and laughing at your reactions.

This is, I’m just gonna say- one of the worst elements of the series, this weird relationship it has with “hahaha are we depicting an abusive family or not? ;)” where its actual point is that Jack Fenton is a person who should be shamed for being overzealous, for caring about this niche field, because nobody cares about ghosts! (unless the entire premise of the show does) Nobody wants to think about ghost science! That’s LAME! (unless Vlad does it)

So I think ultimately this creates a polarizing experience in the fandom. What part of this information do you take?

Do you take, say, my personal approach, which is: 

“Hey, so it’s pretty clear and consistent that the Fentons love their kids and wouldn’t hurt them. The Fentons are nice people. They can be obsessive or headstrong but there’s nuanced and salient ways to examine this in the basic framework that they care, both about their family specifically, and in general- and while I think they can have flaws or conflicts with their kids, and with ambient ghosts in the world, I really don’t think they’re in danger of torturing a sapient entity in their basement and it frustrates and annoys me that canon ‘makes a joke’ of them doing these things because it thinks they’re so incompetent that these things are not really malicious actions, when- whether or not you successfully shoot them, it takes a certain kind of person to point a weapon you know is dangerous at something that looks, and talks, like a fourteen-year-old, especially when you’re a parent who has probably at least once in your life worried about something happening to your kids, and the ghost of a teenager means something happened to someone’s kid, in a general sense.

So my end conclusion on the Fentons is I think they are being depicted in a kind of metatextual bad faith, that they are not cruel or malicious people, and in my personal take or understanding on the series, I’d massively dial down those elements, and if any remain, take them seriously as problems they have in their relationships with other people.”

Or do you take an approach more rooted in,

“If the Fentons are shown to be negligent parents they are negligent parents, I’m going to examine and depict them as that, and I find this very hard to forgive, so it’s going to have real and nasty consequences.”

Both are basically valid. The place where I tend to get a little uncomfortable is twofold:

First, I think sometimes people just really want some fictional tragedy to either create or consume, and to that end, you aren’t going to get much juicy drama out of the Fentons being reasonable people. This isn’t evil or unforgivable, but for me, it’s definitely my least favorite fannish content to create or consume. I’m no fan of angst for angst’s sake, and I feel like there’s enough misery and heartbreak in the world that I’m not interested in wallowing in it unless it’s got something interesting to say.

Second- and this is a point I’m gonna be saltier: A lot of abusive Fenton fics that refuse to forgive them for the poorer-taste jokes the series makes, simultaneously give Vlad a blank check, when he has done targetedly malicious things to Danny. 

Now- do I also have a more sympathetic read on Vlad, and feel like canon also gives him a bad rap? Yeah! But you can’t have it both ways. You can’t say, “I can’t forgive the Fentons for stuff that was tagged onto them because canon thought it was funny, but I’m gonna editorialize Vlad’s depiction to lionize him as the ideal parent figure for Danny to run into the arms of.”

And the main reason I get so worked up in this, is I feel like Jack in particular (when Maddie is characterized as subordinate to Jack, following his cues, etc., and that’s its own demon) is... characterized as kind of a mocking caricature of traits that I personally recognize as an autistic and ADHD person.

Because the reality is? In many practical ways, I am Jack Fenton.

I like a bunch of weird stuff people find unacceptable or gross, like bugs

I’m hyperlexic (that means I talk, a lot)

Scatterbrained, forget words or where I left something or, sometimes, to do something important

Passionate and excitable including and especially in situations where it’s not normal, or expected, to have this much energy

I absolutely can forget birthdays, even for people I love dearly that mean the world to me! It’s horrible! There’s almost nothing I can do about it! My brain refuses to hold onto this information reliably and no amount of caring fixes it.

And being this way, living like this? My worst nightmare has always been that people think I either don’t care or that I’m just too much of a stupid, flippant buffoon to get right.

The thing about Jack is he’s “a person like me” and he’s “a person like me” who was designed to be a joke. We’re clearly expected to view him as untrustworthy, stupid, just like a big dumb dog of a man who barks in the wrong directions, who sometimes, when it counts, fetches a stick like he’s supposed to. Good job, Lassie. You got little Timmy out of the well.

And I am going to say with certainty and confidence that feeling like this is how people see me is the most unbelievably crushing feeling I have ever experienced in my life. That my excitement and passion means I’m unprofessional, stupid, don’t know what I’m talking about. It’s nearly painful for me, as an adult, to watch Danny Phantom because the show can never get off Jack’s case. And the few times it does, he hauls overtime arduously to make a difference, to help, to build something that will protect others, to put his own life on the line to stop hostile ghosts.

And immediately, then he goes back to being stupid stupid dog man. ha ha. why does his wife love him? no wonder his kids don’t ever want to be seen with him. no wonder his best friend is trying to kill him and he doesn’t even know, the big idiot.

(never mind that we see a scenario where he does know. and admits he would’ve forgiven Vlad anyway. but he can’t forgive Vlad hurting Danny.)

So to rein in this wild tangent: I’m not saying all must love Jack Fenton and despair. I’m not even telling people to hide their angst. If I have a sincere request, it’s this:

If you’re inclined to thinking of Vlad as a cool, troubled, complex person (as I do!) and are haunted by the implications of The Ultimate Enemy specifically for Vlad, that when Danny lost everyone else in his life that Vlad really genuinely tried to help, and was not gloating and happy and victorious to have Danny as his protege, and when that went badly, he was haunted to the end of his days by not having been able to help-

-but immediately turn around and think Jack is just a rotten awful person who’d absolutely hurt his own kid in spite of canon to the contrary (when there’s just as much, if not more, canon of Vlad being willfully hostile)

It might be good to examine why you’re feeling this way, and if this might not come down to the fact that even when canon has people call Vlad a desperately lonely fruit loop, it has a lot more respect for him than it does for Jack, and this isn’t because it’s actually taking a stance against any of the qualities it gave Jack that someone might find disagreeable- it’s because Jack’s just “a big old fat idiot nobody likes, right?”

and that’s... not something comfy to buy into.

[claramelooo]

Heyy! My dear! I'm so excited for the Christmas! So, leave in the comments (or send me an anon quest, if you feel more confortable) any scenes, moments or something you really want to see between Wanda and R. Maybe Santa will realizes your desires...

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warning: +18, NFSW, Blood

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat fem reader

Summary: Being at Wanda's home can be very...intense.

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On Your Knees | Part 4 - The Spider | Part 5 - The Lamb

VELVET CHAINS

Pure Crimson

It was a sunny afternoon, so hot that you could see the heat haze blurring the landscape. You were at Wanda's house while your parents were in Greece. Not that you minded staying away from them—you had been distant for so long that you'd forgotten what the word "family" even meant.

The days at the Maximoff household had been an emotional rollercoaster. The environment was both warm and intimidating, and you were still adjusting to the unique dynamics of that family.

Your relationship with Billy and Tommy started off hesitantly, like strangers crossing paths in neutral territory. On the first day, while Wanda was busy in the kitchen and Vision was lost in his own thoughts, you sat on the living room couch, trying to look casual as the boys played with Lego pieces scattered across the floor.

Billy was the first to break the ice, shy but curious. “Do you like Star Wars?” he asked, holding up a small Lego spaceship, waiting for a response that might bridge the gap.

“I do! But I don’t really understand spaceships. Do you?” you replied, leaning forward with genuine interest.

His face lit up with the kind of enthusiasm only kids can show. “I’m the best spaceship builder in the galaxy!” He started explaining in detail how he had constructed each part, and soon Tommy joined in, adding comments about the spaceship's imaginary speed.

The initial connection was timid but quickly grew over the following days. You realized the way to earn the twins’ trust was to genuinely care about what they loved. They didn’t need grand promises or long speeches—just someone who truly wanted to spend time with them.

On the second day, Tommy challenged you to a video game match. “Bet you can’t beat me,” he teased with a mischievous grin. You accepted the challenge, and even though you weren’t very skilled, you played with enthusiasm. Tommy laughed so hard when you pressed the wrong button and sent your character tumbling off a cliff that tears rolled down his cheeks.

“You’re terrible at this!” he exclaimed, but there was no cruelty, only joy. And when you finally managed to win a round—by sheer luck—the two boys cheered for you like you had just won a trophy.

That same day, while Wanda was baking strawberry pie in the kitchen, you decided to help Billy with a school art project about national folklore figures. He was frustrated that his drawing wasn’t coming out the way he wanted. “I’m never going to get this right,” he grumbled, nearly crumpling the paper.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect; it can be unique,” you said, picking up the pencil and showing him how to add simple details to turn what seemed like a mistake into something creative. “See? It’s all about perspective.” You gave him a bright smile, and he looked at you with genuine admiration.

A particularly vulnerable moment sealed their trust. Tommy had hurt his knee playing soccer in the backyard—a nasty scrape. While Wanda was busy elsewhere, you cleaned his wound carefully, speaking soothing words. “You’re a warrior, Tommy. This is nothing for someone as strong as you.” He smiled through his tears and held your hand as if finding strength in it.

That night, as you were getting ready for bed, Billy called out to you. “Y/n, you’re like the big sister we never had.” Tommy agreed, and the two hugged you tightly before heading to their room.

From that moment on, it was as if an invisible bond connected you to them. They sought you out for everything—from playing games to asking for advice. More than that, they embraced you as part of their lives, and you realized that, in some way, you needed them as much as they seemed to need you.

Vision, however, was a different challenge. Always polite and courteous, but there was something about his demeanor, the way his eyes seemed to analyze your every move, that left you uneasy. Perhaps it was the contrast with Wanda, whose gaze seemed to devour you, while Vision’s felt like judgment.

One afternoon, you found him in the kitchen, organizing documents in a folder while sipping coffee. When you walked in, he glanced up briefly, offering a polite but cold smile.

“Good afternoon,” he said, his voice controlled.

“Good afternoon,” you replied, unsure.

Silence quickly settled, heavy and awkward. You searched for something to say, anything to break the invisible wall.

“The boys are excited about tonight’s dinner,” you commented, referring to Billy and Tommy, who had insisted you help pick the menu.

Vision simply nodded, his expression unchanged. “They grow attached easily,” he remarked, emotionless. “Especially to people… different.”

You felt the insinuation but had no time to respond before the sound of Tommy and Billy’s hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.

“Y/n!” Billy exclaimed, running up to you with a huge smile. “Look what we made!”

He showed you a colorful drawing of you, him, Tommy, and even Wanda sitting around a large dinner table. In the corner of the paper, Vision was there too, but noticeably outside the circle.

“You’re part of our family now!” Tommy said, laughing as he clung to your side.

You couldn’t help but smile. “I love it, Billy. It’s amazing!”

“It really is,” Wanda said, walking into the kitchen with an amused expression as she looked at the drawing. “It seems you’re stealing their hearts.”

Tommy hugged your waist, looking at Vision with a mischievous grin. “We love you. Are you going to live with us now?” the boy asked, his eyes sparkling.

“Tommy,” Vision said firmly.

“What?” the boy asked innocently.

You crouched down to Tommy’s height, a gentle smile on your face. “I can’t, sweetheart. I already have a home...” you replied, awkwardly trying not to stumble over your words under Vision’s intense gaze.

Tommy pouted, but Billy quickly approached with another drawing in hand. This one showed you holding what seemed to be a tray of cookies, surrounded by the twins. “This is you, taking care of us. Because you make the best gingerbread cookies in the world.”

“Billy, I just helped! You guys made the cookies,” you laughed, knowing it wasn’t true—you had done everything from the dough to the baking. The twins had only decorated, but you’d say anything to see their smiles.

“It doesn’t matter! You’re the best helper,” he declared confidently, as if it were a universal fact.

Across the room, Wanda watched the scene with a soft smile. Her eyes shifted between the twins and you, as if capturing every detail of the moment.

“It’s true, Y/n,” Wanda said warmly. “You have a way with them that even I can’t compete with.”

Tommy quickly shot back, “Of course not, Mom! We love you too. But it’s different.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as if feigning offense. “Different how, exactly?”

Billy was quick to defend. “You’re the boss of us! But Y/n makes things feel more fun.”

Wanda’s laughter filled the room, a carefree sound that seemed to brighten the entire atmosphere. She glanced at you, her eyes a mix of amusement and admiration.

Vision, however, seemed out of place. He cleared his throat, drawing the twins’ attention. “Boys, you know family is a... fixed concept. One shouldn’t create expectations based on...”

“Don’t start, Dad,” Tommy interrupted, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, we know how we feel,” Billy added firmly.

You looked at Wanda, expecting a more severe reaction, but instead, she was smiling indulgently. “They have strong opinions, Vision. Perhaps we should accept that Y/n is important to them.”

Vision hesitated, his discomfort clear, but he didn’t respond.

Tommy took the opportunity to hug you again. “So that’s it. You’re part of our family now.”

You laughed, touched by his sincerity, and looked at Wanda, who gave a small nod, as if silently confirming what Tommy had said. The warmth in your chest at that moment was indescribable but undeniably real.

Billy grabbed your hand, pulling you along. “Come on! Let’s play!”

You didn’t have a chance to resist as he and Tommy led you to the living room, leaving Vision and Wanda behind.

In the living room, the boys showed you their game cards, taught you crazy rules only they understood, and laughed until they fell over as you tried to keep up with their energy.

In the middle of the game, Tommy flopped onto the couch, tired, and looked at you with shining eyes. “You’re not leaving, right?”

“Not anytime soon,” you said, ruffling his hair.

Billy approached and gently took your hand, his expression unusually serious. “Mom has never seemed this happy before,” he said quietly.

The words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken weight. You looked at him and then at Tommy, your heart tightening in your chest. They were such sweet kids, their affection for you so pure and genuine that it stirred something deep within you—a mix of gratitude and protectiveness.

Moments later, Wanda appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. Her presence filled the room effortlessly, and when your eyes met hers, there was an intensity in her gaze, a possessiveness barely masked by her enigmatic smile.

“It’s good to see you all getting along so well,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that made your stomach flutter.

“She’s the best!” Tommy blurted out enthusiastically, and Billy nodded in earnest agreement.

“Yeah. She really is,” Wanda echoed, her words laced with an edge of certainty as her eyes lingered on you. Her smile deepened, enigmatic and knowing, as though she saw something in you that even you hadn’t recognized yet.

You couldn’t help but laugh, a light, genuine sound that filled the room. A warmth spread through your chest, a comforting sense of belonging. For the first time in days, amidst all the uncertainties, it felt like you’d found your place—at least with the twins. And, perhaps, with Wanda too.

[...]

The house was silent, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall in the living room. Wanda lay on the bed, but sleep felt like an ever more distant possibility. Vision’s steady, peaceful breathing beside her only highlighted the contrast with the storm raging in her mind.

You were there. In the room next door. So close that she could almost feel your presence, like an electric current humming through the walls.

For the third time, Wanda rolled over, burying her face into the pillow, trying to convince herself not to think about you. But the harder she tried to push the thoughts away, the more vivid they became.

She could recall every detail—how you bit your lower lip in concentration while helping the boys with their homework, the laugh that made warmth bloom in her chest, the shy way your eyes met hers when you tried to mask your nervousness. It was unbearable how much you had invaded her thoughts, staking a claim on every corner of her mind as if it all belonged to you.

Wanda sighed, feeling her heartbeat quicken. This wasn’t just desire; it was something deeper, something that made her feel both vulnerable and invincible. It was a sweet yet corrosive obsession.

“Why do you do this to me?” she murmured into the darkness, her voice a whisper tinged with frustration.

Her fingers clenched the sheet as a dangerous idea began to take shape in her mind. It wasn’t unreasonable, she tried to convince herself. Just a quick check to make sure you were okay. That was perfectly justifiable, wasn’t it?

But deep down, she knew it was a lie. The truth was, your proximity was driving her mad. Every second without seeing you felt like torture. The image of you, likely curled up under the blankets, your face serene in peaceful sleep, was almost irresistible.

With a sudden motion, Wanda sat up in bed, sharp enough that Vision mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. She cast a quick glance at him, but he remained in a deep slumber. Perfect.

She knew this was dangerous, that it crossed any reasonable boundary. But you were so close, and Wanda couldn’t fight the pull anymore. Not when the thought of having you felt so… inevitable.

Quietly, she slipped out of the bedroom, her bare feet making barely a sound against the floor. She hesitated for a brief moment in front of your door, her hand hovering over the handle as anticipation and longing swirled in her chest.

When she finally opened the door, a soft, almost predatory smile played on her lips as her eyes found you.

“Wanda?” your voice was lower than you intended, almost a whisper.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she moved closer, each step heightening the tension in the room. When she reached your bedside, she leaned down, her face coming so close to yours that you could feel the warmth radiating from her.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she murmured, her voice low and husky, almost a groan.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right response. Wanda’s smile deepened, but there was a hunger in it, something that made your breath catch. Before you could think, she leaned closer still, her lips brushing against yours so lightly it was almost imperceptible.

“You’re in my head,” she whispered against your mouth, her breath warm and intoxicating. “Your scent is everywhere in this house.”

The air between you felt heavy, charged with an unspoken intensity. And in that moment, everything else faded away.

Your heart raced, and you tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Wanda didn’t wait. Her lips pressed against yours—firm, demanding—and you felt the full force of her presence in that kiss.

There was urgency in her touch, a hunger that had clearly been restrained for far too long. Her hands rose to cradle your face, holding you exactly where she wanted.

You felt trapped, but it wasn’t a trap you wanted to escape. When she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, the intensity in her eyes sent a shiver racing down your spine.

“I needed that,” she murmured, her lips still so close to yours that it was hard to breathe.

“Wanda…” you began, but she silenced you with a finger against your lips. “Vision is in the next room,”

“Shh,” she whispered. “Tomorrow, you can think about whatever you want. But right now… right now, you’re mine.”

Before you could respond, she kissed you again, and all the tension, all the air seemed to vanish from the room.

Her lips were warm and soft, but there was more—something raw, a palpable hunger, a need that felt as if it might consume you whole. The kiss started firm but quickly deepened, turning more explorative. Her tongue brushed against yours, pulling a sigh from your throat, a sound that seemed to ignite something primal in her.

Wanda’s hands slid from your face to your waist, her fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric of your clothes. Your body responded instinctively, every nerve tuned to her presence. Heat pulsed through you, mingling with the adrenaline that made your heart pound in your chest.

She pulled you closer, so close you could no longer tell where you ended and she began. The urgency in her movements was intoxicating, yet there was a tenderness, a sense of restraint as if she were testing the limits.

Your hesitant hands rose to her shoulders, clutching the soft fabric of her pajamas. Wanda let out a low sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, and the sheer intensity of it left your legs feeling weak, even though you were lying down.

When she finally pulled back, it was only far enough for you to catch your breath. Her eyes remained locked on yours, dark and glowing with a mix of desire and an unshakable sense of control.

You tried to speak, but your voice failed, your mind still spinning from the sensations. Wanda tilted her head, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips, as if she understood exactly what she was doing to you.

“You feel it, don’t you?” she murmured, her voice low and husky, sending shivers cascading through you.

Before you could respond, she kissed you again, slower this time, almost reverent. It was as though she were leaving an imprint, marking every part of you, making herself impossible to forget.

She’s undeniably beautiful.

"Take off your clothes." She demands, and you're jolted back to reality. Her eyes pierce into yours, holding a glimmer of something you can’t quite place. You want to know more about her; you feel so off-balance. To avoid a disapproving look, you immediately take off the nightgown and wait for further instructions as she slowly walks around you.

The way the woman moves, the way she looks at you, reminds you of a panther stalking its prey. Wanda eyes you from head to toe, assessing you. She's behind you, and you can feel her gaze roaming over your body. Chills run up your arms in anticipation of what’s coming next, and the urge to turn around and face her is hard to suppress. "Lie down, Dekta. Mommy's going to take care of this."

You shiver at how close the words are whispered against your neck, internally chastising yourself as heat builds in your core. It feels like you're waiting for your own demise as her green eyes scrutinize you once more. You’ve never felt more like prey.

You hate how passive it feels. Your body is tense with the uncertainties this night will bring, not going unnoticed by the older woman. "Sweetheart…" now her voice is soft, just like the Wanda from earlier. "You're so tense." She brushes your face with her fingertips, noticing your shivers.

"I… I've never done this." you murmur softly—a mix of fear and shame. Wanda feels weak seeing you so vulnerable. Giving you a calm smile, she lowers her hands to stroke your forearm—a soothing gesture. "I know, my sweet. We don't have to do anything you don't want." Wanda lies on top of you, resting her head in the curve of your neck—her breath tickling your ear. "I just want to show you… how good this can feel."

She leaves a trail of kisses on your jaw, down your neck, to your collarbone—making you let out a shaky breath. “Do you trust me?” And there it was, that question again. “I do, Mommy.”

Wanda's hands take on a life of their own—stroking you, squeezing and massaging your curves, making you need her more and more. Needed for your touch.

She wanted you to get used to being touched like this, she wanted to get you ready to beg for her and for her hands.

Wanda's mouth and hands leave you inert—all the stimuli she was presenting to you took you to another dimension. Your pussy hurt, and you started to feel the need to ease it.

“Wands…” your voice came out shrill, as if you were slowly dying. The woman's warm lips worked on the back of his neck, biting and sucking passionately on the spot. “Hmm, what’s up, little girl? Do you want to say anything to mommy?”

Wanda moves away from your neck to look at you—making you miss the heat applied to the area. As you look at her, your heart skips a beat to see the expression of pleasure on the woman's delicate face—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and her bangs were messy—sexy and even wild.

With a little courage, you steal Wanda's lips for yourself—surprising the woman who decides to let you command the kiss, encouraging her confidence to blossom in her personality, like a flower that grows with the help of the sun.

Wanda would be your sun.

“H-it hurts.” you confess softly, with a husky voice—throwing your hips up, making your hot core rub against Wanda's thigh.

“I know, Dekta. I know… “ she murmured with difficulty, feeling the stickiness of your precious pussy sliding down her thigh with ease. “Mommy will make it go away, yes?” Wanda felt insane, at that moment, she would give you anything you wanted.

“Mommy…” you mumbled, equally crazy.

The woman, upon hearing this delicious title, began to lower her body until she was face to face with her sweet pussy. It was possible to see the stain of her juices wetting her panties. Letting out a shaky, excited breath, Wanda leans in closer to smell him—sweet and spicy, like sandalwood flower.

Wanda's few sexual experiences were never intense, always filled with normality. She hadn't married as a virgin, but still, all the men that came into her life didn't do justice to you.

The woman's unsteady hands cling to her thighs, squeezing for some comfort—she had never done this, after all. When the bittersweet taste reaches the taste buds of her tongue, Wanda moans and pushes her head against her pussy.

“Mmm…” She moans with her mouth working on her clit. Wanda seemed to have discovered a new world, one she didn't want to leave.

“Oh, please…” The enveloping tongue made circular movements, making you reach the edge, perhaps faster than normal. "Mommy!"

You shouted, making Wanda give you a dirty look.

“Be quiet!” She slaps your cheek, which tingles all over your face, warming you up even more—and which makes you push even harder against Wanda, offering yourself to her like a flower in full bloom.

“It’s hard… It’s so good.” your rolling eyes only showed Wanda how much of a stupid little bitch you were who couldn't follow a simple command. “I need… more!” His voice came out in a drawn out, needy whine.

Wanda growls against his sex, her focus never wavering. “What else, little one? More of Mommy’s tongue, sucking and licking that needy little bud of yours until you cry?” she asks, her voice muffled by her flesh.

“Or maybe it’s Mommy’s fingers you’re craving, plunging deep into that tight virgin pussy.” The woman's broken voice brought words that provoked you in a way that made you reach levels of pleasure you never imagined.

“Tell mommy what you need to scream her name like the stupid slut you are.” You roll your eyes when you hear such degrading words.

“I don’t know… it’s weird, but it’s so gooood!” Your only reaction—or instinct, is to rub himself against her even more. In cruel sadism, Wanda stops the stimuli abruptly, making you let out a frustrated groan.

“Ask, pet. If you want to get what you want, learn to ask for it…” she hummed, as if it was just a game for her.

You huffed, no patience for games.

“Your fingers, I want your fingers inside me.” His honesty hit the woman like a punch. And certainly witnessing Wanda falter at just his words did things to your ego.

Wanda positions her finger well, first, massaging, making you feel it. As soon as her middle finger finds your entrance, you tense against her.

“Shhh, dekta, it’s okay” she whispers against his forehead, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Will it hurt a lot?” Her lower lip trembles, her tone seems to seek a reassurance that only Wanda could offer.

“Just a little…” She promises you, looking deep into your eyes, and you nod, giving permission.

At first glance, the finger inside you seemed to burn, tearing you open and opening you up for Wanda to use that little hole as she pleased. You heard the woman growl against your mouth, then kiss you savagely.

Wanda, as excited as you, begins to rub herself against your sex while still thrusting inside you and feeling your finger being chewed completely by your hot flesh.

“So tight,” she growled, as she ground against you and bit your lip.

“Greedy little girl. Do you want mommy’s pussy?” You nodded without thinking twice. “You’re a vessel for my pleasure, a stupid little toy for me to use and abuse… and you love every moment of it, don’t you, little slut?” The woman's words dripped with promises of a corrosive, dangerous, dark desire.

You nod and push your hips even further—both for the friction of your pussies, but for Wanda's finger that is sinking even deeper into you.

“Mmm, yes… just like that, you filthy slut.” The woman's nails dug into her waist, creating half-moon marks. “Oh. Honey, mommy is almost there…” She moans wildly, taking her finger out of you—bringing you a feeling of emptiness.

The pussy rubbing was genuinely delicious. A unique place in the world that you two never wanted to leave. But it's when Wanda bites your nipple that makes you moan loudly and come hard—so hard that Wanda can swear when she feels your pussy tremble against hers.

Wanda falls on her side, desperately searching for breath. You think it's funny and laugh softly. The woman just arches her eyebrow.

“The problem is… I’m already an old lady. I don’t have much energy left!” Wanda’s excuse only made her seem even more adorable in your eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” You kissed her nose, letting your affection flow through the small gesture, offering her as much comfort as you could muster.

Wanda exhaled, a sound somewhere between exhaustion and contentment, as she shifted in bed to face you. Her hair was messy, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glimmered with a warmth that made your heart melt.

“Beautiful, huh?” she repeated, a soft smile curving her lips. “I think you’re just buttering me up so I’ll bake you more cookies.”

You laughed, finding her pout irresistibly cute.

“I’m not buttering you up; I’m just being honest,” you replied, your tone steady but tender.

She shook her head, a quiet laugh escaping her as she slid her arm around your waist, pulling you closer. Your bodies fit together so naturally, as though you were crafted for this moment, for each other.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” Wanda murmured, her voice tinged with humor and a depth of affection so profound it made your eyes sting slightly.

“Good trouble or bad trouble?” you teased, your fingers tracing lazy circles on her shoulder.

“Good,” she answered without hesitation, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Too good.”

For a while, silence settled between you, a comfortable stillness broken only by the steady rhythm of your breaths. You took in every detail of her: the elegant curve of her jawline, the gentle slope of her lips, and the way her lashes brushed against her cheeks like delicate whispers of her exhaustion.

“It’s all okay, you know?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost a whisper.

Wanda’s brow furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

“With us,” you clarified, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to overthink or worry. I’m here. With you.”

Your words seemed to catch Wanda off guard, her smile softening into something vulnerable and raw. She looked at you as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Instead, she cupped your face with both hands, her thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks, her touch impossibly tender.

“You have no idea what that means to me,” Wanda finally said, her voice low and brimming with emotion.

“Then show me,” you whispered, leaning in to meet her lips once again, this time in a kiss so calm and intimate that it felt like sealing an unspoken promise between you.

When you finally broke apart, Wanda let out a deep sigh, as though releasing a weight she had carried for far too long. She drew you into her chest, her arms wrapping around you protectively, as though she wanted to keep you there forever.

“Sleep now, my angel,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your forehead as she held you even closer.

And so, you closed your eyes, your heart warm and full, certain that, in this moment, you were everything Wanda needed.

But as she watched your lashes flutter closed, her gaze shifted. Her hand, once tenderly cradling your face, now caught her attention—a deep crimson stain painting her fingertips. Blood. Your blood. Your purity.

Something primal and dark ignited within Wanda—a force that she couldn’t resist. Slowly, obsessively, she brought her fingers to her lips, tasting every drop as though savoring a forbidden fruit.

The warm, metallic tang of blood spread across her tongue, and instead of disgust, a raw, guttural moan escaped her lips. It was pleasure, unadulterated and feral, coursing through her with an intensity that made her tremble.

Her eyes glowed faintly, a flicker of something inhuman breaking through the surface. It wasn’t just about the taste or the act—it was about possession, about the irrevocable claim she had laid upon you.

The room was cloaked in silence, save for the sound of her labored breathing, low and almost animalistic. Her fingers, still stained red, moved over her lips, cleaning away every last trace. Her body quaked, not from fear but from the euphoria of knowing you were irrevocably hers.

Wanda leaned over you, her eyes tracing your serene features. You looked angelic, but to her, you were an angel wrapped in shadows—a contradiction so alluring it drove her to madness.

With trembling fingers, she gently touched your lips, the faintest smear of crimson left behind. Her touch was tender, reverent, yet stained by the chaos swirling within her.

“You don’t even know, do you?” she whispered, her voice barely audible but laced with a dangerous kind of adoration.

And as the night deepened, Wanda’s obsession with you solidified into something unyielding, something that would burn brightly, consuming everything in its wake.

Mine,” she whispered, the sound barely coming out but carrying a possessiveness that made the air in the room feel heavier. “You are mine now. In every way.”

~*~

Wanda got more intense after watching Twillinght New Moon....

UNREVISED CHAPTER

Tag List <3

@trindad2k @vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher @trying-to-do-good @bees-for-brains

@eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @jazzyxqzl @sheriffhaughtearp @i-luv-w1men

[asharasasylum]

The Devil May Cry

Yandere brother x sister! reader (hotd) - part 2 here

author's note: hey guys trying something different. no character specified but characters i write for/have written for and think would fit, highlighted at the bottom. warnings: yandere. non con kisses. incest. abuse. talks of past child abuse. 18+

After everything he constantly puts you through, you still seem to always go running back. 

He’s cruel. Some people would even characterise him as vile, your parents included, but you saw through all of that. It was a reaction to the years of abuse and trauma your parents had buried him under as a child. So he lashed out sometimes, called you spiteful names and even scared you at times. But how was he supposed to know any better, especially when the people that were meant to love him had shown him nothing but hate. 

You felt it was up to you to show him love even when his cruelty was aimed towards you. He’s your brother, who neglects their brother. 

You took it. Every single bit of it. From the nasty venom he spat from his lips to the objects that skimmed you as they flew from his fist, smashing into the walls behind you. He terrified you most of the time and yet you still offered a hand out for him to bite. 

But he’s taken it too far. You repeat it over and over in your head again as you pack all your remaining stuff into a bag. 

You can still feel the indent of his rings against your throat and the touch of his lips pressed against yours. Bile rose up in the back of your throat as your mind tried to face the reality of what had really just happened. 

“We’re playing this game again are we?” You heard him sneer from the bed. 

You glanced up at him for a second, noticing how he was still sprawled out over the top of his sheets as if nothing had happened. Your stomach twisted in disgust and you turned away again. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours, yeah?” He asked rhetorically, genuinely believing like all the other times before you were going to come crawling back. But you couldn’t not when you could still feel his body pressing against yours as he forced himself on top of you, the feel of his body moulding into yours and the hardness that he had pressed against your crotch. 

You’re in the car before you know it, half an hour away with his mocking laughter still ringing in your ears. 

You can barely see out your window, it’s clouded by something only you don’t notice what it is till you pull over. Your hand reaches out to wipe it, only to realise it is tears covering your vision. 

Even as you frantically wipe at them, they’re thick and heavy as they rack through your body. They’re not going anywhere, along with the memory of what he had just done to you. 

It was only a kiss. You try to ease yourself with that thought. It had only lasted a few seconds before you stopped it. It was only a kiss.

//

You were meant to be gone for a few hours at best. Back before dinner, bringing him something home with a teary eyed smile and an apology as if you were the one in the wrong. Yet it is three am and you haven’t even so much as sent him a text. 

At first he’s worried, pacing back and forth in his bedroom thinking of all the awful things that might have happened to you. He’d never forgive himself if you got hurt. Especially when he had been the one to drive you away. 

Maybe he had taken it too far this time. But how was he meant to hold back when your eyes brimmed with tears and you pouted at his cruel words. He’s been desperate for a taste of you for years so who was he to deny himself when you were looking so delicate and ripe. 

His worry finally dies down when he tracks your phone down, finding your car outside a familiar building. That worry twists into a burning rage that courses through his body as he stares up into dimly lit windows

It’s only a friend, you had told him. No one he should be worried about, your words mock him as he taps his finger against his steering wheel. He felt like he could hear you laughing now. Besides you’re my brother and you’re way too old to be getting protective over me. 

The light flickers on in one of the apartment windows, and through the peak of the curtains he notices your silhouette. He knows it's you, recognising the tone of your skin under the flattering bright light. He knows the contours of your frame, even from a distance. 

You’re fine. But it isn’t relief that fills him as he realises this. He can’t describe the feeling that sinks into his skin as he starts his car up again. He’s never felt like this before, his anger mixing in with something else. 

His cheeks are wet suddenly and he wipes at them, only to realise he’s crying. But these tears aren’t for him, he tells himself as he drives off. No, these years are for you. 

HOTD - Aegon Targaryen. Aemond Targaryen. Jacaerys Velaryon.

HOTD - Fem x Male character Insert Master List

(Dividers by @cafekitsune)

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

Addressing The Tinhatters: A Statement in Solidarity With @dtmsrpfcringe And Others

I've been active in this fandom for a little over a year, and in my time here I've kept my slate pretty clean. I try not to involve myself in drama and discourse, and when I see something I don't agree with online, most of the time I keep it to myself. I've been aware of the blogs I refer to in this post basically from the onset, but I've stayed quiet, partially to not come across as disrespecting others' opinions and preferences and partially to protect my peace and my own life as a creator. But what started as mostly harmless, if a bit unhinged and delusional, behavior, has turned on some fronts into unimaginable cruelty the likes of which I never imagined this fandom to be capable of. As someone who it seems people in this fandom have come to respect, I think it would be unfair and selfish for me to stay neutral any longer.

Fanfiction has been a genuinely transformative force in my life. It has helped me discover so much about my own relationships to love and desire, and I would never want to tell anyone that it is wrong for any ship to be that source of inspiration for them, including RPF. Nor do I think, as I've said, that it's inherently wrong to have speculative thoughts about David and Michael's sexualities. As someone who has been lucky enough to interact with David several times now, and probably will again, I choose not to do so myself in a public forum out of respect, but curiosity doesn't have to be invasive, and David and Michael being in loving partnerships with women certainly doesn't mean they can't be attracted to other genders too. There's nothing wrong with liking the idea of a relationship between David Tennant and Michael Sheen, or even, really, with believing they might have feelings for each other. If that's all you're doing, this post isn't about you. What I absolutely cannot excuse is the proliferation of hypocritical, nonsensical, and nasty rumors about the women in their lives.

Nothing Georgia Tennant or Anna Lundberg seems to do is ever good enough. Every expression of positivity is curated and phony, anything that could be perceived as negative vile and mean. I see these women attacked on a daily basis as partners, as mothers, as actresses. Georgia is simultaneously presenting a false ideal of a perfect, happy family for her own gains, while somehow at the same time being too irresponsible and incompetent to be a proper parent. Anna, a still young and up and coming actress herself, is expected to perform the ideal of an affectionate partner on social media, is perceived as unsupportive of Michael when she doesn't, when in reality she may simply be trying to make a name for herself in the industry without people solely associating her with the man she loves. Both of these women share in David and Michael's advocacy for marginalized communities, sometimes in different, more or less obvious ways. David and Michael are always brave and sincere, while Anna and Georgia's actions are always self serving and performative, though no evidence is ever given to indicate that the things they post or charities they support are any sort of cover or deflection. Nor are there ever any reasons given for their perceived lack of onscreen talent, other than that they're "boring" or don't have as many jobs as their husbands- never mind that both of them are in an extremely competitive industry and get perfectly respectable amounts of work, especially for mothers of young children. Worst of all, I've seen them accused of things as awful as child abuse and rape, all for the crime of simply being married to the wrong men. It's all so horribly gendered too, David and Michael often referred to as the "men" while Georgia and Anna are reduced to negative stereotypes of nagging, shallow gold diggers. As a fandom populated with so many queer people, many of whom, myself included, have found freedom from gender roles with Michael and David's characters' help, I thought we knew better.

I've been lucky enough to meet both David and Georgia now, and have witnessed firsthand the easy, joyful affection they have for each other when no one of consequence is watching, the way they giddily hold hands on the street and make each other laugh while tenderly looking into each other's eyes even and especially after sixteen years together. Georgia when I met her was incredibly kind, down to earth, and approachable, and my partner, who's met her several times more than I have, gushes about her constantly- how funny, authentic, and intelligent she is, and of course, how much she and David love each other, how they look out for each other and adore each other's flaws and quirks. David of course still gushes about Georgia every chance he gets in speeches and interviews, her strength and brilliance as well as her beauty, and Georgia, while maybe not always as effusive, shows her love for David in plenty of ways, the beautiful candid photos she takes of him, for instance. There's such a soft, painterly tenderness and fondness in them, for the man, not just the dazzling star everyone else gets to see. Her David, gentle, devoted, goofy, aging, melancholy, imperfectly perfect David. Where would we be without Georgia giving us these little glimpses of him? I suspect the same people who deride Georgia's social media presence as try-hard, cringeworthy, artificial, would feel a bit differently if one day they stopped coming.

I can't speak as clearly on behalf of Anna and Michael, but the accounts I've gotten of her and Michael's relationship from eyewitnesses have presented it as no less loving than David and Georgia's, albeit in slightly different ways. Even then, why should I have to? She doesn't owe me anything. I doubt anyone who's made the posts accusing Anna and Georgia of being nasty baby trappers has ever had children. There's no such thing as a perfect mother, and even one child is a massive task. It's normal to not be a shining ray of affection all the time, and Georgia I know more than makes up for it with her fierce love and support for her children in all of their endeavors. Georgia is also a diagnosed neurodivergent woman, and so many of the remarks I see directed at her are clearly discriminatory and often directed at women with her diagnoses. Everyone coos over how charming David is when he shows signs of being AuDHD, but the second his wife does too, she's careless and cold. And don't even get me started on when photos of Michael and David looking anything less than beatifically happy get interpreted as them being miserable due to their wives treating them so poorly. THEY'RE HUMAN BEINGS!!! NEUTRAL FACIAL EXPRESSIONS EXIST!!! WOULD YOU BE A SPARKLING RAY OF SUNSHINE IF YOUR DISNEYLAND RIDE GOT STUCK!!!

I say all this now not even because I think I have any hope of stopping the people in question, but because one of the main fighters on the front of the opposition, @dtmsrpfcringe, has been both a wonderful online friend to me and dealt with even worse abuse than that which gets hurled at Anna and Georgia on the daily. When my blog was briefly overrun by TERFs in light of the Tennant/Badenoch/Sunak drama, Tori was the first person to stand up for me, and as she recieves more vitriol in one day than I've ever experienced in my entire life online, I think I've taken far too long to do the same for her. This woman has dealt with doxing threats, attacks on her character, and most horrific of all, wishes of death upon her and her baby. No one would blame her for stopping, but she has remained steadfast in her mission to call bs where she sees it, and she shouldn't have to do it alone. Tori, I think you are so brave, and I am proud to stand in solidarity with you against the misinformation, meanness, and misogyny that threaten to corrupt this fandom we call home.

Even after all we've been through over the past couple of months, I still believe the Good Omens fandom and David and Michael's individual fandoms to be places of kindness, empathy, and inclusivity. Which is why such cruel behavior (because there's no other word for it) is utterly disappointing and baffling to me. You should be utterly ashamed of yourselves. You're the exact kinds of people David and Michael speak out against on a weekly basis, and I guarantee that if you engage in the kinds of behavior I've highlighted here, they would be disgusted with you. Or maybe they'd simply pity you, because your lives are so empty that you've decided the only way to fill them is to sacrifice the reputations and peace of innocent women on the altar of a relationship that in all likelihood takes place solely in your own heads.

And if you read all this and find you still ship David and Michael, which even I do sometimes, well, there's always polyamory.

I'm sleepy! good night and kindly fuck off! - Lauren

[hornyjailbreaking]

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Minors do not interact! This post is NSFW and dd:dne!

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This is the follow-up to this drabble that I've written on June 23rd 2024. It's around 1,2k words and is dedicated to that one pregnancy kink Kylar lover who really wanted to read more about the pregnancy itself (there's still some sex tho), and to every other Kylarfucker who's into (step)cest and breeding! I love y'all, keep being nasty <3

Written in second person POV (you/your)

WARNINGS: Fem! Reader x Kylar, stepbrother!Kylar, older brother!Kylar, stepcest/pseudoincest, fucked-up family dynamics, breeding, (slightly inaccurate) pregnancy, giving birth (mentioned in passing), nipple play, lactation, proud dad Kylar (still a pathetic pervert)

Getting knocked up by your big brother wasn't what you imagined would happen when you got adopted into a seemingly nice family. But one thing led to another, and now you're sat in Kylar's lap while he's sucking on one of your engorged tits. He's latched on so tightly that you actually wince from time to time, pulling on his hair when he bites down on your poor nipple too hard in his excitement. He seems to enjoy the hair pulling a bit too much.

You'd started lactating recently, and your big brother has been absolutely relentless about "encouraging milk production for the baby" as he put it. You're fairly certain he's bullshitting and just wants you to breastfeed him daily until your planned delivery date. He may be greedy, but he's not entirely unreasonable. He knows your child will need the milk soon enough... He just isn't ready to give it up yet. You'd heard him whining to your mother about how much he hopes that your kid will leave some milk for him, too. Your darling mother helpfully told Kylar that it's possible to induce lactation at any point if it has already happened before, so he'll be able to drink your milk even once you stop giving birth to his children. To say he was elated is an understatement.

As much as you're willing to indulge your pervert of a brother, your pregnant body isn't quite willing to cooperate. You've been, for the most part, spared the constant throwing up. That doesn't mean you don't get back pains and your feet don't swell so much you can't put on your shoes. Kylar doesn't see that last one as a bad thing since it means you are mostly confined to the house where he can watch over you and dote on his pretty little sister. But the back pains are definitely not something you can ignore. So you whine and complain until he finally pops your nipple out of his mouth with the expression of a kicked puppy and helps you lie down.

Seeing how sad he is about not being able to keep you in his lap, you decide to humor him and ask for various adjustments to make you more comfortable. You suspect he gets off on seeing you so helpless and being the one to take care of you while you're carrying his child. He'd popped more than one boner just from watching you waddle into the kitchen for a snack to satisfy your cravings. Of course, being the good sister that you are, you'd taken care of his erection every single time. Pregnant or not, he still needs your body more than he needs food and water.

Well, being pampered doesn't feel so bad. And your parents are supportive too! Your mother made sure that the nursery was absolutely perfect before you even entered your second trimester, and your father ended up building more than just the crib for it. He became genuinely interested in woodworking! Just recently, he'd built you a rocking chair that will most certainly come in handy when the baby is finally born. Your entire family honestly can't wait to actually meet your child. It was agreed that you wouldn't ask about the gender during your check-ups and consultations. There's some charm in only finding out whether it's a boy or a girl on the day you give birth, according to Kylar and your parents. The nursery is gender-neutral anyway since you most certainly will not stop at one child, and the baby name list your mother had compiled is so thorough you'd enter menopause before you actually used up every name on it.

You're blessed with a relatively short labor and easy delivery that happens right around your due date. Kylar weeps the entire time. So loud and hard, in fact, that the nurses give him some kind of tranquilizer to shut him up and let the delivery happen without his wails in the background. He still sobs when he's told he is now a father of a healthy baby girl, even with the medication still calming him. You're used to your big brother falling to his knees in front of you. He does that all the time, really. But that teary-eyed, revent expression on his face is not one you're used to. He kisses your forehead and gently takes your daughter into his arms, then immediately crumbles into another fit of crying. Frankly, he cries a lot during the first week. He's just so happy! He's a dad now! Seeing you nurse his child somehow doesn't make him jealous and greedy for your affection, it makes him want to crawl on the ground at your feet and worship you like a goddess. You'd actually brought a new life into this world, and he played a role in it! He's the proudest you've ever seen him.

And also the horniest. He starts with eating your pussy daily while you heal, but as soon as you're finished, he's fucking you raw. Your mom and dad are elated to be grandparents and happily take care of your daughter to give you two a break. Kylar uses the free time you two get to fuck his seed into you again and again. It's not uncommon for you to walk around with cum dripping down your thighs because he is absolutely relentless. Your tits hurt and leak because of how much milk you're producing which leads to him often making you nurse him while he stuffs you full of his cock. He fucks you everywhere and anywhere he can get away with, whining into your ear about how much he wants to get you pregnant again. Maybe you'll give him a son this time. Or another daughter. He'd be happy with either. Just get pregnant for him again, please. When he isn't busy pumping your womb full of his cum, he's talking to your parents about how much he loves you and your daughter, and how much wants to have a big family with you. Your parents offhandedly mention the possibility of twins or triplets one evening and it results in an absolute marathon where your big brother begs you to get pregnant while he fucks both you and himself into overstimulation.

You take a pregnancy test less than two months after you've given birth. Positive. Kylar is on his knees again, crying and hugging you while kissing your belly. Your parents are already planning a trip for more baby clothes. You distantly wonder just how many times you'll get knocked up by your big brother in the coming years. But the sheer happiness of your family makes you abandon the thought and embrace the elated glow you feel. Didn't you read somewhere that children who grow up with siblings are often more well-adjusted socially? Maybe you should give your baby girl a few, just to be sure... The more the merrier, no?

[hoshieeyewrinkles]

Dark best friend's brother Jake who really wants to fuck reader but can't seem to get her alone. She's also scared of him because of his habits like smoking weed and partying all the time kinda reputation. Pls make it non con!!💕

Here you go anon 💓

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[ Bloodshot eyes ]

Tw: non-con, slight degradation, uses of drugs, ass eating, anal sex.

"Why are you running away from me, sweetheart?" He asked, trapping you between his thighs, one hand firmly gripping your hip and the other holding the cigarette in his mouth. You tried to wiggle out of the way, but he just smirked.

"S-Stop it! Jake, I am going to tell your sister about this." You tried to threaten him, causing him to snort. "Alright, sweetheart, you have scared me enough. You are free to leave." He said, spreading his thighs to release you. You dashed upstairs, looking back once to see him staring at your ass with those bloodshot eyes you feared so much.

Terror clawed at your insides whenever Jake sauntered into the room. "Scared" was a laughable understatement; you were petrified, paralyzed by a primal fear that danced in his eyes and lurked in the sneer twisting his lips. His habits were disgusting, his friends, and his violent outbursts sent shivers down your spine. What made it worse was how everyone seemed to fall under his spell, mesmerized by his list filled eyes. Did looks truly hold such power?.

It was like a cruel joke. You'd befriended his sister, drawn to her genuine sweetness and kindred spirit. She, like you, was innocent, sweet and timid. You'd naively expected a similar light in Jake, instead, you were shocked to find him doing everything which you loathed. It didn't matter what he did as long as he didn't bother you but that's the only thing he does these days, cornering you with every chance he could get.

The mere sight of Jake sent shivers down your spine, His lustful stares felt like physical gropes, each passing touch a violation disguised as casual contact. His house, once a haven shared with your best friend, became a hell you had to run. The air thick with the smell of weed and the annoying laughter of his friends, their jeering hollers as you passed by made you want to crawl and hide.

But you were trapped. Confiding in your best friend, Jake's sister, was unthinkable. How could you shatter her image of her perfect, protective brother? Her belief that his bad habits are just a way of rebellion towards their neglecting and absent parents.

The night came quickly, and you found yourself moving around, trying to find a comfortable position next to your best friend, who was fast asleep. You sighed and got out of bed; perhaps a glass of water would help, and since it was only 12 am., her brother would not be back yet.

You tiptoed your way down the kitchen, refilling your glass with water. You jumped when you felt a hand on your ass. "Its me, darling." There was his honey voice which always spoke nasty words to you. Commenting on how big your tits look and you pretty you would look with his cock in your mouth.

"Please Leave!" You turned around, attempting to remove his hand, but his hand remained groping your ass, groaning in satisfaction. "You don't understand how long I have waited for this..." He whispered before pulling you in for a rough kiss. You could taste the alcohol in your mouth as his tongue desperately licked every corner of it. He only pulled away to catch his breath.

"I'm gonna fucking ruin you!" His hands ripped open your shirt as you thrashed around, trying to scream his sister's name, but he cut you off with a slap on your tits. "You think she will help you, baby? She will blame you for seducing me," he laughed, palming your tits over your bra before pulling it down.

You could only swallow your moans as he sucked your nipples and twirled them around with his tongue, staring at you with bloodshot eyes. The ones which are always drowned in lust and intoxicated. You did not have the guts to stop him when his hands slid down your shorts, cupping your pussy and playing with your clit while your body continued to produce slick. "Might as well admit that you like it, darling," he chuckled, pulling away to admire the marks he had left all over your chest. He bounced them in his hand, grinning as you cried harder.

He treated you like a ragdoll, pulling your shorts down and bending you down on the counter while sucking hickies over your ass. "Mmnh...I needed to eat this ass, the one you liked to flaunt like a real slut." His tongue left a long stripe between your ass crack. You felt disgusted and violated, not only by him, but also by yourself, as you struggled to control your moans.

You did not stop him when he desperately ate your ass, moving his head around and moaning loudly, not caring if his sister was awake, because, in the end, you seduced him, and God knows how many times he jerked off to your thoughts. The fear in your eyes, the way you went pale every time you saw him turned him on so badly and so he will use you as he wishes.

He did not stop groaning as he relentlessly pounded into your ass, his hips moving at an uncontrollable pace. "Y-yeah baby, this is just fun. Come on just admit you like it." He taunted you, pulling on your hair as you let out moans and shook your head between your messed-up state. You did not like it. You despised it, even if your body acted otherwise. You still despised it when you came around his cock for the fourth time. You hated yourself when he laughed each time.

"You are mine now doll, I own you now. I'm gonna pass you around to my friends, fuck you till we are satisfied. Gonna give you a valid reason to hate me now, yeah? "

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hajime Sugoroku Headcanons

He can speak and write English at more than a conversational level, but less than fully fluent. There are words, particularly regional colloquialisms or slang, that he just won’t know or understand and he’ll need to have them patiently explained to him. Because of his accent, he has a hard time saying particular words, especially ones that have two consonants right next to each other, like psych.

However, both his writing in Japanese and English is very beautiful to look at. He has a surprising talent at calligraphy.

Going along with that, his signature is smooth, flowing, and pleasant to look at in English.

He’s been shaving his head since he was in his teens. He really doesn’t like his hair – it’s really thick, it won’t behave and goes every which way, it’s very coarse and straw-like in its texture. It’s a massive headache for him to maintain and if it gets at all long, it starts giving him headaches. He finds it easier to just shave it off and honestly, he thinks he looks good without hair. When his hair does grow in, it’s blonde.

He’s always had a horrible temper since he was a kid and he seemed almost supernaturally strong even back when he was a kid. His mother would get him to lift the furniture for her when she was vacuuming and Hajime, while he would complain, could do it, even for things like couches or heavy television sets.

 The Sugoroku parents are alive. It’s just that, with their children grown up, they decided they could finally take time just to themselves, to both rekindle their relationship and pursue their dreams of travelling. They’re currently somewhere in Brazil, part of their plan to visit each and every country.

He was considered a weird one in high school because, while he had a lot of respect for the rules and cared about the honor of his school, actively participated in school activities and committees, he also had that nasty temper and had no problem with fighting others, making others view him as a little bit of a delinquent.

Definitely has GERD and probably a bleeding ulcer but, since he refuses to go to the doctor for his issues and just chalks them up to stress, he doesn’t get the help he needs for it. They’ll be caught at the next mandatory yearly check-up for the guards.

His biggest fear when he becomes on the elderly side is having to get yearly prostate exams.

While Samon does annoy him greatly and he does have issues with the man, he respects Samon on some level too.

Hajime considers Shiro as the inmate that every other inmate in his building should look up to – the one who became rehabilitated and went on to be of use to the world.

He imposes his insane standards and expectations for perfectionism on other people in some regards, but nowhere near the amount he puts them on himself. He will not be able to accept a compliment or answer what he did well in a situation if he finds even one sizeable mistake.

He genuinely finds paperwork calming.

While Yamato and Seitarou are kind of weird, he considers himself lucky in the people he has working under him anytime that he goes to other buildings. After all, he could have been stuck with someone like Inori.

He doesn’t just stick to one coffee order but changes it up. As long as he can still taste the coffee flavour, he’s willing to experiment with it.

On top of motorcycles, he does like classic cars. Gone in 60 Seconds is one of his favourite movies not just because he’s a closet Nicholas Cage fan but because of all the cars.

He likes shochu and it’ll be his choice for alcohol more often than not.

[vickyvicarious]

So... Masters and Men, eh? There are several different perspectives at play in this chapter:

Mrs. Thornton

"[Workers strike] For the mastership and ownership of other people’s property [...] they are a pack of ungrateful hounds [...] they want to be masters, and make the masters into slaves on their own ground. They are always trying at it; they always have it in their minds".

Mrs. Thornton speaks very harshly of the workers, and she seems to explicitly view the situation as opposing sides, with the 'lesser' one being the aggressor. Part of the pride she takes in her lifestyle is linked to being brave enough to face them and 'fight' against them. In fact, the quote about that is really interesting to me, because she claims they're "a people who are always owing their betters a grudge, and only waiting for an opportunity to pay it off," but in some ways, she could be seen that way as well. At least in the sense of family history/social status, the Hales are supposedly the Thornton's superiors, right? And Mrs. Thornton is very prickly about being seen as inferior herself. A lot of it seems to be genuine pride and dislike of their (Southern) priorities, but some is definitely defensive. And I could see some nasty high society person using similar wording about Mrs. Thornton herself having a grudge against her betters. Certainly, as someone who herself had to struggle tremendously to climb to the point she's at now, I find it easier to see her believing others will want to do the same (though she attributes more malevolence to their actions).

Mr. Hale

"I should say that the masses were already passing rapidly into the troublesome stage which intervenes between childhood and manhood, in the life of the multitude as well as that of the individual. Now, the error which many parents commit in the treatment of the individual at this time is, insisting on the same unreasoning obedience as when all he had to do in the way of duty was, to obey the simple laws of ‘Come when you’re called,’ and ‘Do as you’re bid!’ But a wise parent humours the desire for independent action, so as to become the friend and adviser when his absolute rule shall cease."

Mr. Hale doesn't attempt to dispute the idea that the workers are inferiors, and he's clearly not willing to go too far because he wants to keep the peace. But he tries to suggest that Mr. Thornton look upon them as growing and learning, and be indulged of their 'mistakes' or 'outbursts', so to speak. When talk again turns to the two sides as being opposed to one another, Mr. Hale says, "is not that because there has been none of the equality of friendship between the adviser and advised classes?" He's certainly in favor of mending relations, and he doesn't believe that opposition is inherent/necessary, but his approach is sort of benevolently condescending. This too fits well with his background and the kind of thing Margaret was used to before they move here.

Nicholas Higgins

...it were the interest of the employers to keep them from acquiring money—that it would make them too independent if they had a sum in the savings’ bank. [...] I heard, moreover, that it was considered to the advantage of the masters to have ignorant workmen... [...] But he—that is my informant—spoke as if the masters would like their hands to be merely tall, large children—living in the present moment—with a blind unreasoning kind of obedience.

Higgins (who isn't here and whose words are being relayed second-hand) is the one who first brought up the workers-to-children comparison, but he did so in a distinctly scathing way. He's very bitter about the 'masters' and is definitely displeased at being looked down on. But it's not just resentment. He recognizes the balance of power that is at least in many cases being deliberately maintained. The workers aren't allowed to be too independent because then they can't as easily be used however the masters want. His views are sort of a reverse of Mrs. Thornton's... the employers are the aggressors constantly shoving the workers back down. Wanting them to be ignorant, never to think for themselves, to be dependent and unquestioning. As someone who has very few options even when it comes to helping his daughter dying due to a factory-related illness, his bitterness is fully understandable.

John Thornton

"But because we don’t explain our reasons, they won’t believe we’re acting reasonably. We must give them line and letter for the way we choose to spend or save our money." [...] "I agree with Miss Hale so far as to consider our people in the condition of children, while I deny that we, the masters, have anything to do with the making or keeping them so. I maintain that despotism is the best kind of government for them; so that in the hours in which I come in contact with them I must necessarily be an autocrat." [...] "And I say, that the masters would be trenching on the independence of their hands, in a way that I, for one, should not feel justified in doing, if we interfered too much with the life they lead out of the mills. Because they labour ten hours a-day for us, I do not see that we have any right to impose leading-strings upon them for the rest of their time. I value my own independence so highly that I can fancy no degradation greater than that of having another man perpetually directing and advising and lecturing me, or even planning too closely in any way about my actions."

Mr. Thornton has quite an interesting mix of views here. He claims that it is necessary for him to be a despot; but he feels he has no right to interfere with their personal lives. He talks scornfully of their strikes and says if they knew why he's taken his stance, then they would act differently, but he refuses to tell them why. He agrees that they're like children, but then says he respects their independence and is treating them like he'd want to be treated. Thornton does seem to have a better understanding of the independent nature of the people here, but he uses that reasoning to justify remaining completely uninvolved in bettering the situation. He asks if he has any right to impose his own views on them just because he's their boss - and that's a fair point, but also, he's kind of doing that regardless? It's his belief that an honest and straightforward, if demanding 'master' is both more respectable and incurs loyalty/becomes an example to follow. It's his belief that the workers should blindly obey him because he's in charge, and that this is better for them. And as someone with so much power over their livelihoods, he can operate based on these views. If they feel otherwise, they don't have the power to change that. When they try with strikes, he's willing to get into a power struggle that he admits will hurt him as well as them, rather than let them 'win' even just enough to make him admit his reasons why. Even though he claims their interests align with his, he seems to feel that they don't or can't understand this, and thus conflict is inevitable. In fact, I think he was the first one to call it a "battle of the classes." Thornton's backstory is very much a "pulled myself up by my own bootstraps" success story, and because he did it by working really hard and practicing lots of self-discipline, he seems to think anyone else who fails to succeed is at fault for not working hard enough. He didn't question his bosses, he just put the work in! And so on. Of course, pretty sure he was always of a higher class, and that's going to be a factor for all of these people regardless, but still, I can easily see him thinking that it's their fault for not knowing how to save their money carefully enough. And thus dismissing their complaints.

Margaret Hale

All I meant to say is, that there is no human law to prevent the employers from utterly wasting or throwing away all their money, if they choose; but that there are passages in the Bible which would rather imply—to me at least—that they neglected their duties as stewards if they did so. [...] ...I see two classes dependent on each other in every possible way, yet each evidently regarding the interests of the other as opposed to their own: I never lived in a place before where there were two sets of people always running each other down. [...] ...you are a man, dealing with a set of men over whom you have, whether you reject the use of it or not, immense power, just because your lives and your welfare are so constantly and intimately interwoven. God has made us so that we must be mutually dependent. We may ignore our own dependence, or refuse to acknowledge that others depend upon us in more respects than the payment of weekly wages; but the thing must be, nevertheless.

Margaret relays Higgins' words, and speaks on his behalf. She seems to have a position closest to her father, in the sense that she feels it is Mr. Thornton's duty to aid the people under his rulership. She seems guided ultimately by religious ideals of the relationship between people, but also recognizes that the situation involves an inherent power imbalance and thus responsibility on the part of the one who is at the top. As much as Thornton might deny it, he does have incredible power over the people. But he is also dependent upon them. Her talk about dependence is really interesting because she's the first person to portray it as extending in both directions. They are dependent upon him to employ them; but he is equally dependent upon them to work for him. In this way, she goes a step further than Mr. Hale seemed to, and recognizes both sides as at least closer to equals. She clearly isn't suggesting that every worker should be seen as having the same rights and roles as Thornton, but neither does she view them as either entirely isolated in their independence, or entirely subservient in their dependence. It's a complicated web in which everyone plays a valuable part. Fighting against one another is by necessity acting against your own interests, in a way. Once again, I think her having these beliefs fits very well with her background as someone who did operate in a more noblesse oblige way and clearly felt she was better than certain other classes, but also experienced being the social lesser/supported one when taken in by her Aunt.

[abiiors]

request time 👀

george teaching reader how to smoke a joint for the first time, at the same time she’s matty’s little sister so is a secret relationship. I love a bit of drama

first time

some amazing blogs on here, @ughgoaway and @shinycollarboneapologist have already done the brother's best friend trope so i really urge you to go check out their fics as well. in the meantime... have fun 🤭💕

warning: weed obv and that's it i guess.

oh, btw... this is who you are thinking about. this is who this fic is about <33 (both gifs by @pleasedontbenaked i genuinely fucking hope the credit thing works 😭)

“andrew? really?” george stands at the bottom of the stairs looking down at her, one perfect eyebrow raised high. “you went to that twat for weed?”

oh. 

her eyes widen at the mention of the w word. george is a fucking idiot—she knew that obviously, all her brother’s friends are idiots—but she didn’t know he would be stupid enough to just blurt it out in the house with her parents within earshot. 

involuntarily she moves, slapping her hand on his mouth and harshly tugging on his wrist. “shut up! not here!”

george does nothing but raise the other eyebrow while slowly lowering his gaze to her hand. it’s on his mouth. touching his lips. mortifyingly enough, she comes to that realisation a second after he does and yanks her hand away as if he’s burned it. 

george smirks. because what else do insufferable 20 year old boys do? but he lets her tug him to her bedroom and slam the door shut. 

“yes. andrew.” she glares at him once she’s sure there’s no one eavesdropping. “are you gonna tell matty?”

because he would tell her brother as if she were a child. she’s 18, has been an adult for 2 months now but of course, to george (and ross and adam) she will always be their best friend’s little sister. the thought stings a bit when she looks up at george who’s cavalierly leaning against her door. 

his arms are crossed in front of his chest, biceps and colourful tattoos on full display because of the tank top he’s wearing. she would never admit to this out loud, but she has certainly looked at the tattoos (and the arms) on more than one more occasion. 

still the fact remains. george is insufferable—just like his little all-knowing smirk. 

“now why would i snitch?” he drawls out and then pushes himself off the door. something has piqued his interest. “what do you want it for?”

she can’t help the snark and sass that rises up within her at that. “for a science experiment. what do you think i want it for?”

george rolls his eyes. “okay, smartarse. maybe i should go tell—”

she tugs on his arm a second time to stop him, effectively stopping him mid-sentence. like an idiot, she’s taken the bait. 

george laughs when she groans into her hands. it’s a deep and rich sound; one that skitters down her spine… no! stop. focus. 

“if you simply must know…” she glares, “my friends and i are trying it for the first time. at a sleepover. they asked if i could get some since, you know, matty’s practically a stoner at this point. but he’s also a little shit.” then she raises her chin primly, “i would never buy from him.”

“and so you went to andrew…” 

“and so i went to andrew.”

george snickers. “you know he keeps his little baggies in his pants, right? like literally in his pants?”

she, in fact, did not know that. and judging by some more snickering, she can tell her face has turned a nasty shade of green. brief as it may have been, she absolutely did touch the little baggie andrew had discretely shoved into her hands. and now she needs to immediately dunk herself into a vat of sanitizer. 

george seems to have taken pity on her, though, because his features soften and the smirk turns into a small smile. 

“so you’re all planning to get high together for the first time?”

is this an attempt at small talk? why would he even try? still, if he’s trying to be civil, she can respond in kind. 

“...yes. for the first time.”

“do you even know what to expect?”

that makes her roll her eyes. it might be her first time, sure, but she’s not fully oblivious. “i have seen all of you blitzed out of your mind, george. i think i know what to expect.”

“so you don’t actually know what you’re doing.”

she's about to protest but he's already on the move. she watches with her mouth agape as george saunters towards her bed, examining all her little trinkets on the way. he runs his hands on the books on her bedside table, on the cds she neatly keeps on her shelves. there are posters on her walls—bowie, queen, the rolling stones, among others. then there are photos with her friends and her parents, another one where matty is 15 and she’s 12, in pigtails and grinning at the camera while matty does his edgy, angsty teenager grimace. 

there’s also a polaroid she took of the band rehearsing. matty looks like he’s in the middle of tuning his guitar. adam is looking off-camera and ross is texting on his phone. but george…george is sitting against the wall. arms behind his head and drumsticks still in his hands. his jaw is slightly tilted up, jawline sharp enough to cut. he looks like he’s trying to figure something out while the rest of them goof around. 

she remembers that day so clearly; remembers how excited matty was to show her a song they’d been working on. she remembers george smiling at her when she complimented the song. 

george throws himself onto her bed, yanking her out of her thoughts. 

“sit,” he motions at a spot next to him as if this weren’t her room and her bed. 

“what…”

“i said, sit,” he repeats, “i’m not going to let you walk into the unknown with your idiot friends.”

several questions rise up, along with indignation at him for calling her friends idiots. she’s about to ask them all in one breath but he shuts her up with one look and takes his wallet out. 

oh no… oh no no no. 

“absolutely fucking not!” it almost comes out as a shout but she manages to turn it into a whisper at the last minute. “are you insane, george? my brother is literally in his bedroom!”

“relax, darling,” he drawls out as if none of this is concerning to him. and continues taking out a bit of rolling paper and a baggie of weed from his wallet. “your brother thinks i’ve gone home.” 

this is somehow even more concerning information. what happens when matty hears them and barges into her room to check—it’s not like he knows the concept of knocking anyway. 

also he’s just called her darling…

“but—”

“you’re overthinking,” he interrupts. “focus now. i’m teaching you how to roll a joint.”

times like these, she wishes she could simply whack him on the head, preferably with one of her hardcovers. but the rolling paper in front of her is intriguing, to say the least. and as much as she wants to be annoyed, she knows she can at least trust him to guide her through her first time. 

“if you get me in trouble, george, i swear…”

“i won’t,” he places a hand on his chest and looks at her intently, “i promise.”

gingerly, tentatively, she sits in front of him; legs crossed and eyes firmly on the things in front of her. 

“now this is what you want to do…” he picks up the paper and curves it slightly between his fingers. his forehead is creased in concentration, lips parted slightly while he continues to talk about the joint. her focus, however, has already wandered. 

his fingers are deftly working away—adding in a good amount of weed and putting the tip in. her eyes wander over his hands—knuckles in the process of healing still like they always are. she used to think he got into a lot of fights until she found out that they were a result of the drumming. and then she couldn’t stop thinking about him, sweaty and tank top clinging to him…maybe even shirtless…as he worked on the latest song. 

god she was a fucking cliche for thinking about her brother’s best friend like this. utterly basic and unoriginal. 

george snaps his fingers in front of her face. 

“where d’you wander off to?”

“um–ah…what? sorry,” she mumbles quickly and averts her gaze to where he’s half-sprawled on her bed. long, graceful limbs and all. 

“focus, darling,” he chastises in a stern voice and the neurons in her brain instantly misfire. “now look.”

he picks up the paper with the weed in it and expertly rolls it while leaving some space at the end, twists the top and then as if it’s nothing, he licks the end—slow and deliberate and keeping his eyes on her—before finally sticking it shut. 

if the neurons had misfired before, they have completely shut down now. she doesn’t even register it when she swallows roughly, eyes wide and trained on his mouth which slowly curls into a smirk once again. 

“like what you see?” he asks and then cheekily adds, “the joint, i mean. it’s pretty perfect, isn’t it?”

“mm-hmm”

“should we smoke it?” 

“uhh…” her voice is barely even a whisper, thoughts hardly coherent. he wants to smoke it with her? “now?”

“no time like the present.” then he sits up properly. “wait, have you at least smoked a fag before?”

she nods mutely and clears her throat, “once.”

“ooohhh. thought you were a good girl, healy…”

she blushes deeply then; absolutely unable to meet his eyes after that. heat spreads over her face and fuck it...but there’s no coming back from this now. god, he’s going to know about her embarrassing teenage crush and he’s going to tell matty about it and matty will not let her live it down. 

she almost wants to cry out but he’s not done torturing her. because a second later he takes his lighter out and holds it under the joint. 

“want to shotgun first?”

“um…uh…”

speak, you fucking idiot, her brain screams at her but unfortunately, it does not seem connected to her mouth at the moment. he’s going to know that she’s short-circuiting. he’s going to know how flustered he makes her. 

fuck fuck fuck 

“unless you don’t want—”

“yes,” she interrupts quickly. because the thought of not doing it is so much worse than shotgunning george. 

“come closer, then. and open your mouth.”

he curves his palm around the flame to stop it from going out; joint resting lazily between his lips before he hollows his cheeks and takes a drag of it. the smoke rests in his mouth for a second or two before he leans forward; almost as if he’s about to kiss her. 

the blood in her veins flows at the speed of light, her heart is thumping so fast that it’s a surprise he hasn’t heard it yet. he’s so close… he’s never been this close before. she’s never seen the exact colour of his eyes this clearly before or felt his hair tickle her face. 

then he parts his lips and blows out the smoke in her mouth. a long exhale and a sharp intake of breath from her. his gaze dips to her lips before returning to her eyes. she imagines she’s done the same because a moment later his eyes are back on her mouth. 

the smoke spreads through her body, warm and earthy, and slowly makes its way to her head. there’s a brief flash of panic and hesitation but she pushes it away. 

then she leans closer.  

----

(yes i'm ending it there for evil reasons)

[painted-bees]

Okay so, I'm more intrigued by the journey of sexual discovery when it comes to OCs. Like how did Raf come to find his preferences? I'm sure Margie and Raf regard sex differently, but how about Tess? Sure it's gotta be *different* but. Ig I'm curious about the respective povs and the individual learning curves. Significant moments, internal rationalizing and the like

oh, fun questions! I don't think Raf ever settles into a full understanding of what his preferences are...Every time he thinks he has a handle on it, something new throws him for a loop about it hahaha But his first relationship was with a boy that he had kinda grown up with who discovered his sexuality pretty early, and was remarkably unapologetic about it for his own reasons. And that attracted more folks like him into Raf's friend circles. And I think it was via this guy that Raf didn't find his own queerness to be so othering. Raf has never had a "coming out" moment--to anyone, really. Even if he was straight, it wouldn't be something he'd talk about or refer to often, if at all. It was, at least, very easy for Raf to internalize that he's bisexual. And in the entertainment/music industry (incl. classical), even in the 90's...he wasn't an odd one out for it. The realization that his attraction to people is not actually (and never had been) sexual in the way other people describe it--is pretty new, and he's not super convinced about asexuality as a valid thing. It's kind of funny that it was so easy for him to adopt a progressive attitude about gay/bi sexuality, yet is heavily bogged down by skepticism over the idea of asexuality's validity as an identity. Likely, it's because he's never seen or heard of asexuality in his life, be it through people he's met or in the media. Asexual visibility never really took off until very recently...By the 2010's, it was rarely heard of. The apparent "newness" of it is probably what's tripping him up.

Margie and Raf definitely have very different relationships to sex and what it represents lmao. For Margie, it's a fun activity you can do with anyone, you just gotta employ the correct safety equipment to ensure it remains a fun time for everyone. All she wishes is that it was more culturally accepted as a casual activity. Whereas Raf really doesn't see the appeal unless it's with someone he genuinely wants to show love to. Sex with friends or acquaintances just comes with too much emotional baggage, too much risk, and too much opportunity to be extremely, deeply humiliating. And it's kind of gross...like...picking up a half-empty water bottle off the ground at a bus stop and drinking from it. Who's water bottle is this??? Where else has it been??? What's in it???? Nasty. Nah, sex is an enormous gesture of love and trust, a really vulnerable short hand to communicate the relationship's value to him, as well as outlining how important their enjoyment and comfort is to him as a personal responsibility/desire. Tess's idea of sex is similar to Margie's...but on a vastly more...meta scale lmaooo It's a critical aspect of life, just as much as sleeping and eating--and thusly is an important activity to engage in if her goal is to experience the terrifying ordeal of living as closely as she is capable of doing! (and--if Raf wasn't shooting blanks, or if Margie didn't seem so abjectly terrified about the very idea of viable reproduction, Tess would absolutely parent children with one of them lmao. Kinda a let-down that she can't. Oh well, maybe on the next adventure.)

[moonshynecybin]

#he really does cut people out cold shoulder them with no discussion huh.... fascinating man......#invisible transgressions remembered forever at arms length#he is. i think. pathologically nonconfrontational. idk even with the sepang stuff.#like he doesnt look at marc AT ALL only performs to the press. same with argentina he sends uccio.... <- *eye* have a theory that vale on his factory settings is actually quite a desperate people-pleaser. not necessarily in a "i need others to approve of me" way (though that too) but in a "i need for others to cheer for me" (to try and explain what i mean better, he's not doing anything just to get the approval but he wants to feel approved/supported for whatever he's doing. different catalysts for action, same need). that's why he can play the crowd so well. and sepang - i think it was genuinely a protracted breakdown caused by vale realizing he's not superhuman anymore and his lead slipping and compounded by the anniversary of the worst loss he's suffered in his life

post about graziano here, jorge confrontation here

like the thing about vale is. well we dont personally know him. so outside of stuff people close to him tell us, we only see the side of him he wants to show the press, which is still him, just more of a performance, i think. its already been discussed AT LENGTHHH that he loves to do this sort of performance and is just. generally very good at being a celebrity. and i think its an extension of his PR deftness that when jorge comes at him he just laughs and looks at his audience. he ropes them into a private joke, like can you believe this guy? which jorge (who takes to confrontation like a duck to water) HATES so bad. its a very effective deflection tactic. fr the easiest way to seem like the bad guy is to treat an argument like it is worthy of your attention. so he meep-meep roadrunner court jesters his way through off track conflict for the majority of his career. and yes he makes enemies and they tell US that he is being cold and prickly and treating them differently. but crucially. he does not seem anything other than a Chill Dude in front of the cameras. until well. sepang lol.

so yes! i think he is invested in controlling these narratives and good at it to boot. but!!!! where it gets crazy is when you get to the personal arenas. like the people he loves that he is actually invested in. where his feelings are on the line fr.

like for other (professional) conflicts he gets over it!! but not with his dad and not with marc. and part of the marc stuff is the ego involved (theyre having a GOAT-off) and the professional stakes, as ive discussed. BUT. i think he doesnt get over these two because. well. because they really really hurt his feelings, i think. like he's said in the past that he's been able to get over the rivalries he has with other racers (like biaggi) bc they WERENT friends before so he didnt gaf when it got nasty. but. he still. REALLY cares with marc. (and of course with his parents divorce. like yeah that makes sense) so i actually think its very telling that he isnt over sepang. and that he didnt look at marc at all whenever they had their epic divorce moments (sepang press conference, postrace argentina 2018) rosquez would be less real if he could just move on lol. like it is a divorce to them both for REAL. so vale is going to handle it the same way he did with his parents and quietly cut marc out while making it. VERY clear. that marc is no longer one of the people that he holds within the select bubble that gets to see vale without all of his press trappings.

[yuikomorii]

i think i can forgive yui for anything even toxic simply because she suffered the most because of those guys and deserves to get her lick back. they put her through so much in earlier games, it's insane

// PARDON?? 😀😀

I understand that the Diaboys were bitchy at first and they all treated others as less (which is bad), but other than Laito, Kanato and Carla, nobody made Yui suffer that bad to the point of breaking her. Kou was pretty nasty too at first, but the rest weren’t that horrible route based for characters supposed to be monsters. At the very least, I can name some human LIs who were way worse than most Diaboys, yet nobody seems to hate on them for that. I understand that it must be tiring being pushed around and being treated as “prey”, yet we’re talking about vampires here. They are predators and don’t have the same set of morals as humans do, for this reason humans are a mere food source for them. They can’t live without blood, even if this means having to sacrifice humans to satisfy their hunger. We love cats despite the fact that they like torturing mice before killing them, and that’s because we understand that it’s just how the predator instinct works. The Diaboys might look humanized, but they are a whole difference existence and you shouldn’t hold them at human standards. It’s good that DL showed how vampires were truly supposed to act, instead of making them romantic and flirty from the start.

Even the whole Adam’s apple plan focuses on Eve, a human, making Adam, a vampire, learn about human feelings. One thing about the Diaboys is that they all had growth. If someone is shown regretting their behavior and is genuinely changing into a better person just for you, it’s very insensitive to remind them about what they did a long time ago. They are aware of their actions and they are aware they were in the wrong, therefore bringing up their past mistakes won’t make you a better person than them. A Diaboy could sacrifice everything for Yui and put his life on the verge each and every time she’s in danger, but some of you guys would still only see him as “bad”, which would be a huge insult to his character, given that it would erase all the development he went through.

I’m not going to count the bad endings here, but saying that you forgive all of Yui’s toxic actions is very toxic itself. She is an abuse apologist herself, who tried to convince Ayato that his mother secretly cared for him (despite knowing the full story), Subaru that Karlheinz loved him and the Mukamis that Karlheinz, after he committed a whole genocide, saved them to redeem himself. These are all very wrong. Karlheinz always used everyone for his plans, just like Cordelia used her children for her selfish desires. Neither of them were ever shown regretting their actions. This is just one example of Yui’s toxic actions and I’m not saying that she did them with ill will, but stupidity can make one problematic too. It gives off the same vibes as “but they’re your parents”, after hearing someone talk about how much their parents hurt them.

It’s not that hard to admit that all DL characters have red flags. Nobody in this franchise is meant to be a role model and it’s okay if you don’t like certain actions. I’m a Yui stan, but I get why several people from the otoge community don’t really like her. However, I’m surprised that they see her as really that bad. I mean, she still is mostly kind and sweet, therefore I don’t think her bitchy moments are more significant. Yet, I suppose this has more to do with how they perceive things.

[animentality]

we talk a lot about how much ketheric hated durgetash, but what about how much orin hated durgetash? either she despised her sibling and hated seeing them happy (and also distracted from bhaal), or she actually got along pretty well with her sibling until gortash came and ruined it. she must have been so jealous, but not jealous in a “i wish it were me fucking durge/gortash” way, jealous in a “im the only one who seems to be taking this group project seriously but you’re the two getting the credit from teacher” way.

See, but here's the more tragic thing to consider...

Yes, the idea of Orin always hating Durge, and then flying off the handle because she can't handle being perpetually single and pretending it's for religious radicalism reasons is funny.

But what if Orin genuinely cared for them, because they were nicer to her than anyone else?

What if they actually had a somewhat decent relationship because deep down, they know they aren't that different?

The Dark Urge killed their parents, and they had to have felt regret...but they pushed down their feelings, and embraced being a Bhaalspawn, because what else could they do, really?

Their father would literally DISSOLVE them if they disobeyed.

But maybe they'd look at this younger fellow Bhaalspawn, and they'd remember having a childhood before that...and they'd feel bad for her. Take her under their wing.

And she, in turn, wouldn't be used to having someone who actually treats her kindly, or at least, with any degree of mercy?

I'm not sure where I read it, but I think it's mentioned somewhere, or was supposed to be in the game or something, that she tried to resist Bhaal once in the past, but was shut down.

And that is really sad to consider, because maybe Orin knew she was trapped, so, like the Dark Urge, she chose to embrace her heritage because she had no other choice.

But she and the Dark Urge have this in common, and that's why they'd get along...

Until. That fucking Chosen of Bane...

Suddenly the Dark Urge isn't spending any time with her...suddenly, they're moody, withdrawn.

Defensively angry.

See, there's a nasty note from the Dark Urge to Orin in her bedroom...

They say that Orin's blood is "impure."

And I can see why that would hurt Orin a lot...but in HER note, she just mentions how she hates how close Durge is with Gortash?

So maybe.

Hear me out...

Orin had NOT been planning on usurping the Dark Urge at all, like Sarevok says, until they met Gortash.

THEN, she felt betrayed.

Like...I thought we were alike. I thought you knew how it felt, to repress your feelings, and to embrace your destiny, instead of your own needs...but here you are.

Embracing a Banite...spending less time in the temple...with me.

So rather than feeling betrayed because she "loves" Bhaal...deep down, on a subconscious level... she's devastated because the only person she felt could understand her...was becoming someone new.

And she hated it.

And anon...

Orin is an artist at heart.

Creating grisly art was her way of expressing her individuality.

The Dark Urge mentions that they admire her art... but also that it's "useless" because Bhaal doesn't care for it...

Maybe they used to encourage her to be artistic as a child?

Because they know better than anyone, how you must suppress any sense of individuality as a Bhaalspawn. That's not what you were made for. But they knew it helped her emotionally.

And before Gortash, they lightly encouraged it, or at least allowed it...but then she starts being abrasive and complaining about Gortash.

She starts saying, do you truly serve Bhaal, or Enver Gortash, and they'd snap back, because they're defensive about it right, that she doesn't really understand what Bhaal wants???

So I think the Dark Urge showing contempt for her artwork was just a coping mechanism.

They had abandoned their individuality a long time ago, but suddenly this Enver Gortash says he likes them for them...he says, I love how smart you are...and they feel like...they're more than a Bhaalspawn...

And Orin is hurt and betrayed, because she thought they were in this together...and they're confused and anxious, over this problem that they can't simply kill...

So in short, anon.

Yes.

I think the Dark Urge and Gortash's relationship DID put a huge strain on the Dark Urge's relationship with Orin.

I think it would've really broken her heart, to know she was alone with just Bhaal for company.

I also think she needn't have worried, because they'd both get what was coming to them anyway in the end.

They were never going to last forever, her own actions be damned.

Alas, anon.

I feel...so sorry for them all.

[thepenultimateword]

...Arranged Marriage for (Civilian Identities of) Villain and (heroic) Sidekick?

Disclaimer: I definitely know that arranged marriages are often happy and healthy and completely normal for many people. When Sidekick refers to their arranged marriage with Villain as not a "regular" marriage, it has to do with their own outlook of their situation, and not my personal views on the subject.

Sidekick noticed the bruise right away. A perfect shoeprint on their new spouse's cheek, suspiciously alike to the one Hero struck under Villain's left eye earlier that night.

Everything Sidekick had suspected and ignored over the last month came crashing down like a tidal wave, pressing down heavily on their shoulders, crushing the breath right out of them.

"What happened?" they managed through constricting lungs.

"Nothing." Spouse tugged their chin-length hair in front of their face as they slid off their shoes and workbag. "Is there dinner?"

"You have a shoe print on your face," Sidekick said, unsure why they were pressing for an answer they really didn't want. "That's not nothing!"

Spouse shot them a mildly annoyed glance before swiping past them and poking around the contents of their fridge themself. "If you want the truth, I'm being bullied at work."

Bullcrap.

But what was Sidekick supposed to say? Prove it? I know you're lying? I know who are you?

Anything they said could immediately be turned against them, and the last thing they needed in this already tense arrangement was for Spouse--Villain--to uncover their secret identity.

"Are you ok?" they said instead, surprised that it slipped out so easily. Even with a small semblance of worry. It was worry for themself of course, for a future where they shared living quarters with a villain who recognized them as an enemy. Needing to watch their back every second of the day, keeping one eye open while they slept.

It shocked them when Villain's face softened.

"Hurts a little." They closed the fridge door, hunger forgotten, and ambled a little closer.

Sidekick fumbled internally for the correct response. What would they do if this was a regular marriage? One where they hadn't each weighed the benefits to their families against their personal feelings. One where Spouse wasn't Villain, and Sidekick didn't know.

Sidekick ghosted the edges of the bruise with the back of one knuckle. "It's a nasty one. Do you need me to beat anyone up?"

Villain's eyes sparked amusement. "I'd like that. But I wouldn't like you getting into trouble for me."

"Since when do you care about that?" Sidekick said, a little harsher than intended.

Villain cocked their head.

Shut up, Sidekick!

"Is this about me exposing your late-night comings and goings to your parents during our engagement?"

Actually, in the wake of other problems, Sidekick had forgotten all about that incident, for as infuriating and stifling as it had been at the time. They had been unable to help Hero on their patrols for over a month. But Villain had given them an out, so they shouldn't squander it.

"I wasn't allowed outside past 10 until the day we were married. What did it even benefit you?"

Villain stepped a fraction closer. "At the time I was upset with our situation. My family's money for your's reputation seemed an unbalanced, unworthy trade for my life. I took it out on you. And that was wrong." Their fingers crept along Sidekick's wrists, holding them light and gentle in front of them. "Forgive me?"

Sidekick slid out of their grip and took a cautionary step out of the range of soft, green-eyed charm.

"You haven't given me many opportunities for forgiveness. We barely even see each other."

"Not all my fault is it?"

Sidekick's stomach lurched. They thought they'd been sneaky about their absences from home; if they weren't waiting for times when Villain was out of the house or asleep, they at least always had a genuine errand to complete with it to excuse them.

"I have... Zumba," Sidekick said and immediately cringed. Zumba? All the time? Even at midnight?

"Whatever it is you have...or I have, I think we should make some changes."

Sidekick raised a brow. "Changes?"

"Dinner, every night, and at least one date a week."

Sidekick stared, mouth agape. They hadn’t been married long, but this was the first indication they’d given Sidekick of wanting to try for any sort of amicableness.

“Why?” They knew it sounded strange, it was stranger continuing as they were, but they couldn’t shake the suspicion growing in their gut.

“Because like it or not, we are married. And I want to love my spouse. And…from what I know of you…that doesn’t seem an impossible feat.”

Sidekick had to resist the urge to counter. This was the best thing. Hiding their identity in a comfortable relationship was probably easier than in a tense one. That was how Sidekick discovered Villain after all, the constant questioning, distrust, and watching giving way to another all to familiar persona.

“That seems…reasonable,” they said.

Villain smiled. “Why don’t we pick a day for date nights? A day where we don’t make other plans.” They’re smile grew. “I’ll try to schedule around your Zumba.”

They definitely didn’t believe that lie.

Wait. This was an opportunity. If Villain was out with them, they weren’t causing arm to the city. Sidekick was still helping Hero, just…less conventionally.

“Fridays?”

Villain pondered that moment, probably thinking about how much they enjoyed ruining Fridays for everyone else with their chaotic schemes.

“Works for me.”

Sidekick nodded brusquely. “I'll get the first aid kit."

“You’re patching me up?” Villain said, sounding amused and thrilled for some reason.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“No reason. Thank you.”

The genuineness in their voice caught Sidekick off guard. They had to shake themself back into motion. “You’re welcome. Um…there’s some left over spaghetti in a bag on the bottom shelf if you want to warm it up. If you’re still hungry that is.”

With that, Sidekick retreated, trying hard not to think about how they were sharing food with a criminal, and how they didn’t completely mind it.

[beifong-brainrot]

Hi again, this is the third question (with several options), sorry. And it's mostly related to the brothers of fire and earth, they had a lot of potential, like the Beifong family.

But I have a lot of ideas for AUs in my head.

1)Dark Avatar Bolin (A bit comical, the Great spirit chaos and darkness is trapped inside a 16 year old earthbender/lavabender) Maybe imagine that Mako and Bolin's ancestor who lived 10,000 years ago merged with Vaatu during a Harmonic Convergence and it was passed down from generation to generation. And released inside Bolin during another Harmonic Convergence (Mako will have heart failure due to stress lol)

2)Avatar!Mako When he gets caught by the White Lotus, he doesn't want to let go of his little brother. He has serious anger issues, the first Avatar who has a relative to take care of.

3) Mako accidentally injures his younger brother

4) Mako and Bolin are adopted by the Beifong family. Either Lin or Su.

(You answer one, I have too many ideas, sorry)

Nah bitch I'm answering them all bcs those are all cool ideas.

1.

actually Bolin as a Dark Avatar would be really interesting. Since we don't really seem to have a framework for what a Dark Avatar is meant to do other than Unalaq, who was still just following his own agenda. Like, how much control would Vaatu have over Bolin's actions. Would he be able to possess Bo when he's, for example in the Avatar State? Or would it be more like:

Though if we're giving Vaatu a more nuanced storyline, I can see him being a more sympathetic character. Where in canon he was portrayed as basically just the evil version of Raava, he could just be seen as a spirit of chaos and change, which spurrs on evolution and development, and of "darker" urges like anger, which are still important to humans in moderation.

I honestly think it would be very interesting to see Bolin containing that type of energy because he's kind of a pushover and is pretty resistant to change.

So seeing him perhaps learn from Vaatu to stand up for himself, express negative emotions, become independent and more self assured would be a very fun arc to follow.

I also wonder how being trapped 24/7 with Bolin's bubbly ass would affect Vaatu I think he'd either go insane or he'd get a redemption arc. I can see Vaatu becoming increasingly attached to Bolin, starting off with a bit of a "we share this body so I'm gonna put you in the Avatar State when you're in danger" type of thing to genuine attachment and caring.

2.

Honestly poor Mako I think he would just have a heart attack at 20 at this rate. Though he would be an interesting Avatar to follow, especially that while he is a kind person, his main concern is keeping himself and Bolin safe. I can also see him bearing a bit of a "why should I save Republic Citu or smth they let me and my bro be homeless" type of inner conflict.

I also really like the idea of Lin being the one to teach him earthbending lol. Lin sees this broody teen avatar and decides she has to protect him lol

Bolin would probably be more hyped about this than Mako lol. He'd be Mako's biggest supporter all the time Mako is just like "oh god how am I gonna fit this into my schedule".

3.

I honestly have thought of this concept before a couple times. I think usually Mako is very careful around Bolin, but I can see a high stress situation making him slip up. In a darker tineline, where they get more involved with the triads, I can see the triad members making the brothers spar and train against each other, which could result in one of them getting hurt. In Republic City Hustle we saw that Mako was more willing to go along with triad shenanigans than Bolin, so I can see him being pushed if there's something on the line. Like they're not allowed ro eat if they don't fight or smth.

Though I think Mako would feel so guilty however he hurt Bolin. Like I already think he has trauma around firebending since his parents were killed by a firebender, so injuring his own brother might give him a nasty case of Jeong Jeong syndrome and selth loathing.

I can totally see Bolin trying to brush it off to not worry Mako, but Mako would still hate himself.

4.

I've kinda thought about the boys getting adopted by Lin and Su. Maybe not in terms of actual adoption but kinda in more of a ward situation.

The concept of Lin arresting Mako and Bolin for some minor crime and realising they have nowhere to go, so she takes them in for a little, just until she finds a family to take them in. But there being two of them, being older and having criminal pasts, they might nor be to easy to get adopted.

So they live with Lin and she ends up getting attached, despite herself.

I think Mako is probably very distrustful of her at first, and thry argue a lot, but grow to trust each other and have a begrudging respect for one another, which later becomes actual affection.

And I feel like the moment little Bolin learns that Lin is a Beifong he would just, like, Grab onto her leg and not let go. Like he immediately is very affectionate and friendly and Lin is just baffled. I think she's mildly annoyed, but also with Bolin being a child, she might have an easier time believeing he's genuine.

Now, the boys being 'adopted' by Suyin would take a bit of narrative managing, since Suyin lives in Zaofu, but if for exame she was in Republic City for business or something and found two kids eating out of a dumpster, I would not put it past Su to go "mine now ☺️" and just fucking take them home and give them motherly love or smth.

With how different Zaofu is from RC, it would be interesting to see the boys adapt to it. And we can have a childhood friends/growing up together weilin Au which is always very nice. Tbh I think they'd hate each other as kids at first.

I csn see Bolin being a little more self assured in this AU, since Suyin seems like a very reassuring person. And if metalbending truly is tied to mindset, I could see Bolin metalbending in this AU.

I think Mako might actually get along better with Baatar Sr. He could just chill in the man's study while Baatar works and that would help him acclimate to the situation lol.

The bending bros being raised in Zaofu alongside Kuvira and the Baby Beifongs is actually a very interesting AU I might have to get back to you on that lol.

[sugahbunnies]

BUCKET LIST ☆ 07

This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, this is a bad idea.

Saiki keeps repeating the sentence over and over in his head, biting his thumb nail. His finger hesitates to press the doorbell to your house. You've been pestering him for the past two months so why did he come out of his way to ask you to hang out? You're practically attached to the hip and everyone thinks Saiki must finally have his soulmate.

But you? His soulmate? Never. It's true that he's finding you less and less annoying throughout the days. Although your quirks since day one irks him a bit. The way you talk so nicely and talk with your hands, yeah you might be too nice in his view.

Now he's just fighting the urge to flee the scene and leave you alone. He knows your parents aren't home, because you mentioned they go to work pretty early on weekends and come home late. He did not want to call, because he wants it to be genuine. So there he is, acting like a little boy who has a crush and is struggling to ask them if they wanna eat lunch together.

He pulls at his hair in frustration, his hands running through his pink hair anxiously. He exhales and inhales, attempting to stop his heart from beating so quick. Why was he so nervous?

"It's just Y/n, nothing crazy" He mumbles to himself, so he finally presses the bell.

"Saiki?"

He looks to the side of the door, seeing you peeking your head out from the window. You're holding a huge lollipop in your right hand, and on the left hand you were holding a microphone.

You were doing karaoke?

I .. why would they .. the window but not the door.. I should leave.

Saiki ponders for a bit while you stare at him with a confused look. He sighs, knowing he can't back down now.

"Let's make coffee jelly".

☆

"This is so fun!" You exclaim, adding the ingredients into the machine and pressing multiple buttons. You pan the video camera to his face and zoom onto the machine. Saiki really dislikes the idea of keeping track of this project by video taping it but ..

Your enthusiasm kinda changed his way of thinking. He never said anything about it but he found it funny how you find enjoyment in filming you both on a dslr camera.

Saiki silently watches you, his expression sour but relaxed. You find everything so exciting and fun, he thinks it's a great trait of yours. Although it does get tiresome when you stop to pet each dog on your way to his house.

"Let's make star shaped jelly!" You finish off by clicking another button and with a satisfied sigh, you plop down next to Saiki.

You shut the camera off and slide it into your bag.

He inches closer to you, the floor creaking underneath him. You look up in curiosity, offering him a smile which of course, he does not return.

"It'll take about twenty minutes" Saiki announces suddenly, resting his chin on his palm. You nod, grabbing your list from your bag and crossing out the fourth number.

Saiki covers his face with his hand, trying to hide the fact that his happiness is visibly showing on his pale face.

He has seen and remembered the first few things you have put down, and the coffee jelly was one. You give him another smile, the list being crumbled on the side due to your tight grasp.

Saiki wishes he could just give you another nasty look but he's been too hard on you lately. Or so that's what he thinks.

He smiles at you, and it seems a bit forced but your grin grows wider. You shove the paper back into your bag, and scoot closer to him.

"Erm" He says quietly, your hand clutching onto his as you hold both your hands in the air.

"Thank you for being a considerate friend, Kusuo Saiki" You admit sincerely, your smile never leaving and your grip becoming lighter.

Saiki feels his heart beat quicker, his body heat increasing and he swears his ears are turning red.

"Yeah.. no problem" He spats out, pulling his hand away and clearing his throat. You didn't notice his red ears and he's glad. Knowing you, you would make fun of him for it and never let it go.

"I'll be back, bathroom" He tells you, hurrying his way towards the end of the hallway.

He pushes the door open, slamming it shut and placing his hands on each side of the sink. Saiki stares at his reflection, flicking at his ears to see if this is actually happening.

"It's just Y/n, I'm just pitying them this is all it is" He rambles, turning the faucet on with quickness and splashing cold water on his cheeks.

He goes back into the kitchen, seeing your cheeks stuffed with jelly already. You drop your fork, the plate in your other hand holding a half eaten coffee jelly.

You shoot him an awkward grin, a piece of jelly falling from your mouth and onto the plate.

"This is really good coffee jelly" You claim with pure honesty, your hand covering your mouth as muffled sounds slip out.

Saiki stands there, a look of disgust washing over his face.

False alarm, Y/n is definitely just a friend.

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