#but like growing up with a dad that only saw you as an extension of himself

[mo0nc4lf]

read fun home by alison bechdel and immediately listened to the broadway soundtrack right after and ended up crying my eyes out

[allurilove]

Teenager Yandere Husband x teenager you

“What would happen if you went to the same school as him?”

Rated 16 + — regular ol’ short content !

Teen!Yandere Husband had a major scene phase starting sophomore year. It was his way of saying ‘fuck you’ to his old man, and he started to grow as his own person. He was finally able to express himself in a way his father tried to repress. His father was interested in fashion, creating multiple pieces and clothing that had made it to the runways, but he made sure teen!yandere husband looked proper. Not dressing him in the eccentric and world stopping outfits his father was known for, but the cookie cutter boy you see in those movies about snobby rich people. His dad thought his new bright hair was hideous, and when he started to cut up holes in his jeans— he got a whooping that night. That didn’t stop teen!yandere husband, it only fueled him to go all out. He had black eyeliner on his waterline, multiple rhinestone belts on his hips, and wore long striped socks with his boots. He donated all of his old polo shirts, cream white sweaters, and traded his name brand shoes for a pair of converses.

Teen!Yandere Husband enjoyed listening to My Chemical Romance, 3OH!3, and Get Scared. He had all of their latest music downloaded onto his mp3 player, and he listened to it with his girlfriend at the time. They both shared an earbud, and his arm was around her shoulders. She was just the type of girl he liked: she had those skunk extensions in her hair, long eyelashes, fishnets on her arms, and she smelled like a record store (idk if that’s a compliment). But alas, all mildly good things came to an end when he was broken up with. She wanted an alternative man by her side, and he wasn’t enough for her.

Teen!Yandere Husband started to grow out his hair junior year. He had to constantly brush his bangs out of his face, blowing at the strands whenever they poked at his eyes. He was this tall six foot two guy, bumping into people in the hallways with his wide shoulders. And he had an attitude. He didn’t apologize, just grunting out a ‘watch it’ before he stomped his way to his class. Teen!yandere husband also picked fights with anyone that tried to comment on his appearance. He knew how to throw a mean punch, and he learned it all from his great aunt. Breaking peoples noses and fingers were easier than he thought, and getting away with it was just as sweet than the thrill he felt. His father made constant excuses for teen!yandere husband, saying that it was just a phase and he was just a boy, and if that didn’t work… well a gracious donation would be sent to the school.

Teen!Yandere Husband got his dick pierced the summer before senior year. It was a risky move, his father was already on the brink of snapping at him and kicking him to the curb. But, thankfully his aunt was cool about it, and signed the paperwork. While he was at it, he got his ears and belly button done too.

Teen!Yandere Husband noticed you around senior year. He was cleaning up his ‘bad boy’ act, trying to get on people’s good side before the year ended. While he was on his apology tour, he saw you sitting at the library alone. He doesn’t remember if he had done anything horrible to you, and if he did, he would absolutely beat himself up for it. He was about to approach you, but then he suddenly remembered his appearance, and was self conscious about the way he looked. Who would love to be with a mess of a man like him? Surely, you already had people lining up to be with you.

Teen!Yandere Husband made his first move by asking you to sign his yearbook. You had made him nervous. Just your presence alone was making him sweat. He held brief eye contact with you when he asked, leaning against the white bricked wall with a blush to his cheeks. His voice soft and yet baritone, and he held up the yearbook for you to write your name in.

“Ah yeah… I think we had like one class together? With that really grumpy man that’s about to retire soon.”

You smiled, a little snort coming from you. He watched you add a little heart into your name. “You’re gonna have to be specific. That’s like half the teachers here.”

“You know,” he was totally talking out of his ass, “the teach that shakes his fist whenever he sees teens running down the halls.”

“Really? That’s odd. I never had a male teacher.”

“W-What? Oh-“ he gulped, adverting his eyes towards the ground. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and he awkwardly shifted between his weight. “Maybe I’m misremembering things.”

“If we took a class together… I definitely would have remembered.”

That left him speechless. Did you mean that in a good way?

“You’re sort of hard to forget… you kind of look like Sam Monroe from Life as a House.” you bit your lip, and your eyes took in the sight of his dark but colorful clothing. He had this scent that made him smell like fresh rain and wood.

He hadn’t seen that movie, but he was gonna guess on a whim that might’ve been your way of saying he’s … cute?

Teen!Yandere Husband got your number and followed you around all summer. He was actually shy when he got to hang out with you outside of school. Hours before he met you, he walked back and forth in front of his mirror, trying to give himself a pep talk before the hangout. He wasn’t this nervous before, and he started to fret about his appearance. He had put on his best jeans, clean shoes, and the classic sort of fancy tee. He picked you up in his red corvette, playing music from the radio incase you didn’t like what he usually listened to. He was determined to make this “hang out that’s totally not a date” perfect.

Teen!Yandere Husband casually paid for your things, and opened all the doors for you. He totally thought he was winning in the ‘gentleman’ department. He gave you compliments that teetered between the lines of flirtation, and just being friendly. He actively listened to whatever you had told him, making mental notes to bring them up in later conversations. That seemed to make you happy. You two had stopped by a carnival he coincidentally had tickets for. He tried his hardest to help you at any game, and he was pretty good at throwing darts. He happily smiled for whatever photo booth you brought him into, not once complaining when you wanted to use props.

Teen!Yandere Husband had genuinely smiled whenever he was around you. You just made life better. You were his little comedian, his best friend that’ll he never forget.

Full fics: these fics are an aged up version of yandere husband obvs, and it contains smut.

#1 #2 #3 #4 (coming soon)

Allure: this would be soo him if he were to text reader.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I saw the Dad! Stanley, could you make the Dad! Stanford one? Like how his reaction come back after 30 years saw Reader already become responsible adult

-🐈‍⬛

Ford kept a picture of you -his life’s greatest achievement- in his pocket at all times during his time in the multiverse, reminding him of who he had waiting for him back home when he felt as though he was at his limit.

Being a father was never on the docket but the moment you entered his life he dedicated himself to raising you as best as he could, even going so far as to do extensive amounts of research in preparation for any and every vital moment of your life.

You had became a pivotal part of his life and made everything he did even more important for he was doing it for you and the future you’d live in. He wanted you to grow up prepared for anything and everything life would throw at you, along with how to handle yourself for the inevitable day where he couldn’t be with you anymore. (He hates it as much as you did)

He commemorates everything you did and dedicated parts of his journals to you and your growth or things that you did that made him laugh. (You wore his coat once and Ford was fighting the demons within him known as cuteness aggression because of how it swamped your tiny form.)

An excerpt:

‘They look at me like I’m something and I’m worried that one day they’ll grow up and not view me as such when they see what I’ve done when they slept soundly in their crib, but all I do, I do for them.’

However this desire to watch you grow and be apart of your important developmental stages would be cut short when he fell into the portal when you were just 8 years old.

His last words before the portal closed entirely to Stanley were: ‘no! Y/n! I haven’t done everything I’ve wanted to do with them yet! Go trick or treating with them on Summerween! Go Fishing! Watch them grow up! Stanley, don’t leave them alone, they really hate being alone!’

And raise you Stanley did as he would try his hardest to keep your memory of Stanford alive and well, thinking it was the best he could do after accidentally taking his brother from you. He’d even make a whole album for when Ford comes back from the day he fell into the portal.

Stanley didn’t miss a single moment to capture you doing something adorable (dressed up as a paranormal detective for the summerween he took you out on) or similar to Ford himself (becoming curious about about the mystery of Gravity falls after an incident with a bunny demon and even making a series of journals yourself)

Stanley made sure to capture every little thing he could from you helping him run the shack, to you making your first friends, your little experiments on how much food Soos could stuff in his face without getting full. Which was fun until he always threw up.

You were so much like Ford it hurt Stanley to look at you sometimes because all he could see was his brother in you that he had to look away sometimes, and he knew that Ford would be so fucking proud of the person you grew up to be but also knew that he would hate himself for not being there for it all.

So when the day came when Ford finally retired home, his first words as he stepped out of the portal were; ‘where’s y/n?’

Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Stanley could only watch as you, a full grown adult of 38, stepped forward with tears in your eyes when meeting face to face with the man who raised you before his brother took over, reaching out to him whispering ‘dad?’

Ford was shocked to say the least when he looked over at this adult calling him dad, only for his brain to work fast and connect the dots as he pulls out the picture of you as a child from his coat pocket and made the connection that you and the smiling child in the picture he held close to his heart were one in the same.

You were now all grown up and he wasn’t there to see it happen with his own eyes, something that broke his heart into a million pieces knowing that he never got the chance to see it himself! The coat that hung off of your frame was his, he could clearly tell but it didn’t swamp your form like it use to, it suited you and the makeshift journal Ford saw you had clutched in your hand and knew you were his child in more ways then one.

You had his curiosity and his need to understand the unknown to great but sometimes dangerous depths, god he missed you so fucking much, his sweet child and his sweet child you’ll always will be in his eyes as he watched as you quickly walked towards him and hugged his frozen form tightly as you wept in his shoulder.

‘Dad.’ You said. ‘I’m all grown up.’

Ford chuckled weakly as he too found himself unable to keep the tears at bay, ‘I can see that sweetie pie,’ he said as he held you tightly against him. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to see it.’ He adds knowing that this will be one of his life regrets until the day he died, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use this time to catch up with you and learn all about you all over again.

‘It’s okay.’ You reassured him, clinging onto him as though he’d disappeared again. ‘It’ll give me an excuse to talk your ear off about all my expeditions, my theories and my thoughts on everything that’s been going off here.’

‘They really are cut from the very same cloth as you.’ Stanley told Stanford as he watched you tuck Dipper and Mabel into bed that night. ‘They’re smart and even graduated from a prestigious college at the top of their class, they were even valedictorian just like you back in highschool, but they came back to gravity falls because they wanted to dedicated themselves to helping me in getting you back.’ He adds as Stanford looks at his twin with tears in his eyes.

‘And I wasn’t there to watch them walk across that stage…’ he mutters and Stanley pulls out a photo that he had taken during your graduation ceremony and gave it to Ford who could only smile weakly as he took you in. You had blossomed so much when he was away and it broke Ford even more when he realised that he knew little to nothing about you now.

‘I’m such a terrible father.’ He tells Stanley who grips him by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eye.

‘Hey! You are not a terrible father, they love you so much that they stay up late at night trying to decipher you work in hopes of finding a lead so that they could have their father back in their life. So don’t you dare say that about yourself when they’ve nothing but miss their father for the past 30 years!’ Stanley scolded him just as you walked into the hallway after bidding dipper and Mabel goodnight.

You heard them but decided not to speak up about it, after all today had been quite emotionally exhausting and all you wanted to do was sleep. ‘I’m going to bed, good night dad, good night uncle Stan.’

‘Hold it you.’ Stanley said as he walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling away as he smiled at you. ‘Night pipsqueak.’ You smiled back before looking over at Ford, wanting to go to him and Stan could see the conflict in your eyes and pushed you towards his twin before retreating to his room.

‘So I was thinking that we could go monster hunting…you know like father and child. I’ve been trying to track down this dragon like creature that’s said to live on the highest mountain of gravity falls since its conception.’ You said awkwardly as Ford smiled at you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

‘I’d be glad too sweetheart, you don’t have to ask me to spend time with you because I’ll always want to spend time with my child.’ He replied and you couldn’t help but smile widely as you hugged him tightly again. Needless to say you and Ford made up for lost time in quick succession as you both ran away from being burnt alive by the massive dragon that was originally thought to be a myth.

[luvismenu]

> motive — pt.5 ,, index ! nsfw

. . brother's bestfriend!jungkook au . .

wc: 4.6k+

warnings: banter, teasing, lots of cursing ofc, kissing, some oral (fem recieving), fingering, clit play, he's kinda aggresive, jungkook being a dick in the end, cliffhanger-ish?

jeon jungkook is so fucking stubborn.

once he sets his mind on something, there’s no going back. if he thinks something might hurt someone, he won’t ever risk it. he doesn’t change his mind, doesn’t budge, doesn’t care how annoying it is. he’ll stick to his decision no matter what.

it’s a stupid habit, but he’s always been like this. and honestly, you’re starting to think he always will be.

you’ve known that ever since the bike incident from when you were kids. it was your brother’s bicycle. you really liked it, and you wanted to ride it secretly because you knew jimin wouldn't let you. you begged jungkook to let you, but he refused. your brother had told him, very seriously, that it would break his heart if you fell and got hurt. and, of course, jungkook listened. he took your brother’s words like gospel and never let you touch the bike.

it didn’t matter that you cried about it. even though he looked a little guilty seeing you bawling your eyes out, he still wouldn’t budge. your brother’s feelings came first, even if you were sitting there heartbroken.

and that was when you were four, and they were nine

jungkook never told you why he didn't let you touch your brother's bike either. you only know about this because jimin told you when you grew up. which really pissed you off.

maybe it’s a silly thing to still think about, but it’s just so annoying that he hasn’t changed. he’s always been like this— choosing what’s “right” even if it makes you mad.

sure, he’s not your best friend, but that doesn’t mean you both didn’t grow up together. you were always there, tagging along, watching him and jimin get into all kinds of trouble. and your brother always found ways to keep you quiet, too.

“jungkook, let's carry her on the way home.”

“jungkook, give her your candy so she won’t tell mom and dad.”

and it worked.

every time.

it was fun, you won’t lie. making them beg you not to rat them out, holding it over their heads. oh, it was so fucking fun.

it’s still almost the same, you know all your brother’s secrets, and by extension, jungkook’s. growing up with them, you picked up more than they ever wanted you to. and, well, why wouldn’t you use that information to your advantage? sometimes for fun, sometimes to get what you want.

and what did mufasa say? it’s the mother fucking circle of life.

“saw that you were with taehyung a few days ago,” jimin says casually as he pulls on his jacket.

you’re stretched out on the couch, scrolling through your phone. you’ve been debating whether or not to text jungkook, but you don’t want to look desperate. still, your fingers keep itching to type something.

your brothers words make you pause, but you don’t look up. instead, you respond simply, “yeah.”

“why?” he asks, his voice closer now. you glance up to find him standing right behind you, staring down.

you shrug, keeping your eyes glued to your phone. “just because.”

and then, without warning, he snatches the phone from your hands, holding it high above his head. you gasp, jumping up immediately.

“oh, you son of a—”

“careful,” he interrupts with a smug grin, “we share the same mother.”

you glare, crossing your arms. “give me my phone back.”

“answer me properly,” he counters. “do you like taehyung?”

your face scrunches in immediate disgust. “no! he just wanted to meet up and talk. you know, because he helped me with my projects back in middle school, and we were kinda like friends.” you emphasize the words as you uncross your arms, as if reminding him.

jimin sighs and finally lowers your phone, which you snatch back with lightning speed.

“okay,” he relents, “just don’t get too close to him.”

“why?” you deadpan, raising a brow. “because he’s a model too, and you’ve got some secret rivalry with him?”

“because he hurt my best friend,” jimin snaps, his tone sharp, “and i don’t want to think about it.”

you shut your mouth, his words leaving no room for argument. the silence between you grows thick for a moment.

then, finally, you speak up. “whatever. i’m going to watch a movie. don’t disturb me.”

“i won’t, cuz i’m going out,” jimin says, grabbing his car keys from the table.

“with?” you ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

“your mo— wait, shit, we have the same mom,” he mutters, catching himself, and you scrunch your nose in disgust but can’t help the small smile that slips out.

“your crazy model friends?” you fold your arms again,tilting your head.

“yes, my crazy, stupid, but rich model friends,” he grins smugly, “just like me.”

you roll your eyes and turn around, flopping back onto the couch dramatically.

“oh, and jungkook’s coming over,” he says as he heads for the door.

your ears perk up immediately, and you shoot up, blurting, “why?”

“it’s the weekend. he’s gonna sleep over,” jimin replies casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. and to be fair, it kind of is— jungkook crashing at your place is pretty routine. but the thing is, he’s always here for jimin, not you. all you and jungkook do is bicker whenever he’s around.

“but you’re going out,” you frown, watching him open the door.

“bro, this is my house, i’m coming back of course. don’t worry,” he says, rolling his eyes like you’re being ridiculous.

“but i don’t—”

“shush,” he cuts you off, stepping outside. “i am gonna be late because of you. take care of the house and don’t fight with jungkook.”

before you can argue back, he’s out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

you stare at the door for a moment, then slump back onto the couch, muttering to yourself.

“yeah, like that’s fucking possible.”

it doesn’t take long for jungkook to show up. the front door swings open casually, and he walks in like he owns the place, not even sparing you a glance. he heads straight for the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water, chugging it down like he just ran a marathon.

must’ve worked out.

you hear his footsteps as he walks into the living room, where you’re sprawled out on the couch, pretending to ignore him. well, pretending to mind your own business, at least.

your eyes flick to him briefly, and yep, there he is— in those stupidly attractive gray sweatpants and a black compression shirt that clings a little too well to his body. if you look at him for too long, you’re pretty sure you’ll do something you’ll regret.

nope. not worth it. you’re supposed to be mad at him.

what is annoying, though, is how quiet he has been ever since that conversation with him a few days ago. jungkook isn’t supposed to be quiet around you. if anyone gets to ignore anyone here, it’s you.

selfish? maybe. but it’s just you and him.

it is what it is.

“get up,” he says, standing right beside the couch where your legs are sprawled out. “i need to sit.”

you glance at him briefly and then smile. “there’s plenty of space,” you say, your voice sickly sweet. “outside. in the garbage bin.” your smile drops as you finish the sentence, and his frown deepens, his brows pulling together in a way that— unfortunately, makes him look even better.

even hotter.

“i wanna watch the movie too,” he says, ignoring your jab.

“too fucking bad,” you retort, keeping your eyes on the tv.

the notebook plays on the screen, and for a second, you think of how much you and jimin love this movie and how you all used to watch this movie when you were younger (but old enough to watch it). jungkook always sat through it with the two of you, even though you know it’s not his thing.

“i just came back from the gym,” he starts, his voice edged with frustration. “i could use some rest.”

“go to the other room, then. use the bed to res— hey!”

you’re cut off mid-sentence as he grabs your legs, effortlessly lifting them up. before you can protest, he flips them off the couch, forcing you to sit up as he plops himself down beside you.

he leans back, completely unfazed, and looks at the screen. “thanks,” he says smugly.

“fuck face,” you mutter under your breath, glaring at him.

your hands itch to smack the smirk off his face, but you just huff and turn back to the movie, crossing your arms in annoyance.

you grab your phone, your fingers moving quickly as you text yumi because you genuinely have no idea what to do or say right now.

you: how can this mfker sit here and act like nothing happened!?

yumi <3: he's at yours!?!?

you: yeah, sleepover

yumi <3: where's ur bro

you: out

yumi <3: so u're alone tg 😈

you: help me bae. he's acting like i didn't literally say that i fucking want him?? what do i do

yumi <3: what u always do babe ,, provoke him.

you glance over at jungkook, still seated on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen. his jaw is clenched slightly, and your gaze trails down his arm, taking in his tattoos, the way his biceps flex subtly as he rests his hand on his thigh. and that’s when an idea hits you.

without a word, you get up and walk to your room. you don’t notice it, but his eyes flick to you as you leave. his gaze lingers for a second, curious, but he quickly forces himself to look back at the screen.

in your room, you swap your pants for a pair of shorts— really short shorts. short enough to reveal your thigh tattoo.

you glance at yourself in the mirror and adjust them slightly, smirking to yourself.

with newfound confidence, you stride back into the living room. jungkook is still on the couch, his attention glued to the movie. he doesn’t even glance your way when you enter— typical.

you catch sight of the clutter on the glass table in front of him: bowls and empty cups.

perfect.

you move around the couch approach the table from the other side so he can see the tattoo and start tidying up, picking up the bowls one by one, moving slowly, purposefully. you stretch your leg just slightly as you reach for the furthest one, your thigh tattoo now fully visible.

jungkook notices. and oh, you can tell by the quick flick of his eyes, the way his jaw tightens for just a second. but he doesn’t say a word, keeping his gaze locked on the screen like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

you hold back a frustrated sigh, heading to the kitchen to put the bowls away. when you return, he’s still pretending not to notice you, still sitting there as if nothing’s changed.

so fucking stubborn. for what, though?

you stop and take a deep breath, deciding to try again. this time, you walk directly in front of the tv, deliberately blocking his view as you pretend to move things around the room.

he frowns almost immediately. “move out of the fucking way,” he says, voice sharp and annoyed.

“can’t,” you say, keeping your tone light and casual. “i’m busy doing something.”

you cross the room again, back and forth, shifting random items like it’s the most important task right now.

“do it later,” he snaps, the irritation growing in his voice. “i’m watching this,, aren’t i?”

you scoff, turning on your heel to face him. “so fucking what? you’ve seen this movie like, a hundred times!”

he stares up at you, still frowning. “what the fuck do you want?” his tone is calm, too calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes your stomach flip.

you cross your arms, glaring at him. “you know what i want.”

he raises an eyebrow, his jaw clenching as he leans back into the couch. “do i?”

“yes,” you snap as you glare down at him. “don't act stupid, jungkook. you know exactly what the fuck i want.”

he exhales sharply through his nose, running a hand through his dark hair. “i don't know what the fuck you're talking about so just fucking say it.”

you scoff, your brows furrowing deeper. “i did say it. you’re the one pretending like it didn’t happen, like i didn’t tell you—”

“because you don’t mean it,” he cuts you off, his voice low but steady.

you take a step back, stunned for a moment. “what?”

he leans forward now, resting his palms on his knees, his gaze boring into yours. “you’re just doing this to fuck with me, to get a reaction. and congrats, you fucking got one. are you happy now?”

your throat tightens, but you refuse to let him see how much his words sting. “you think i didn’t mean it?”

he doesn’t answer immediately, just stares at you, like he’s trying to read your mind.

“if i didn’t mean it,” you say, your voice softer now, “then why would i keep doing this? why the fuck would i care?”

“because you like attention, don't you?” he shoots back, his words sharper than you expected. “taehyung, me, whoever gives it to you.”

your jaw drops, anger and disbelief flooding you. “you’re such a fuckin—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off again, standing up now, towering over you. “don’t act like i’m the bad guy here. you’re the one who started this.”

you stare up at him, your chest rising and falling as frustration bubbles over. but you recover quickly, masking the storm inside you with a smirk. tilting your head slightly, you ask, “started what exactly?” your tone is light, almost mocking, daring him to say it out loud.

jungkook’s jaw tightens, his gaze locked on yours. he doesn’t back down, but he doesn’t answer immediately either, like he’s weighing his next move. you can see it— the slight flare of his nostrils, the clench of his fists at his sides.

“don’t play with me, ___.” he finally says, his voice low and rough.

your smirk widens, pushing him further. “am i really? becuz all i see is you getting worked up over nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffs, stepping closer, closing the already minimal distance between you. “you’ve been pushing me, fucking testing me? what the fuck is that about?”

you hold your ground, refusing to back away. “and? what are you gonna do about it, jungkook? keep avoiding it like you always do?”

he lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “avoiding it? you’re fucking crazy. you think this is easy for me?”

“what’s not easy?” you press more, losing patience, your voice softening slightly. “tell me, jeon jungkook. what’s so hard for you?”

his eyes darken, his emotions clear on his face. “stop, ___.” he pauses. “stop pushing me before i—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head like he’s trying to regain control.

you feel your breath catch at his words, your heart pounding, but you don’t let it show. instead, you tilt your chin up, whispering, “no.. you need to stop fighting it, jungkook.” you lean in closer, your eyes never leaving his. “it's just you and me right now.”

for a moment, neither of you moves. the tension between you is palpable, electric, like something is about to snap. and this time, you’re not sure if you want to continue pushing him.

“shut the fuck up,” jungkook leans down, his breathe getting heavier

you smirk a little, whispering back, “fucking make me.”

and then suddenly he’s holding your jaw in his big, tattooed palm, his lips sear against yours kissing you with passion that you’ve always wanted to feel.

jungkook's hand tightens around your jaw as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a desperate hunger. you moan into his mouth as he pulls you against his body, his other hand wrapping around your waist.

breaking away for a ragged gasp, jungkook lifts you effortlessly into his arms, kissing you again. you wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. he puts you down gently on the couch where he'd been sitting moments before. though there's nothing gentle about the way his hands roam over your curves, hiking your shirt up a little.

jungkook pulls back just enough to glare down at you, his breaths ragged, his jaw clenched. his dark eyes bore into yours.

"i hate you," he grits out. his hand grips your thigh, sliding up to press firmly against your skin, sending shivers through your body.

your lips curl into a smirk, your breath hitching as his grip tightens. “do you?” you whisper, your voice teasing, daring him to keep going.

his fingers dig into your thigh, his gaze flickering to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “yeah, cuz you're so fucking annoying. i hate you so fucking much,” he mutters, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, kissing and biting on your sensitive skin.

a soft moan escapes you, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you arch into him. “yeah?” you breathe out, your smirk deepening. “i like knowing i get to you.”

his eyes snap to yours, his jaw tightening as he pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, revealing him your bare pussy. “so fucking bratty,” he mutters.

your breath hitches, your chest rising and falling as his fingers trace over the tattoo etched into your thigh, the one he gave you, the one that still turns him on whenever he thinks about how you teased him during the session.

you and your fucking mouth. he thinks.

his lips hover over your skin, his gaze fixed on the inked design before he lowers his head. his soft lips press against your hip, right where the tattoo starts.

his voice is quieter now, softer as he looks up at you. “does it still hurt?”

“so much,” you whisper, your voice shaky, but it’s clear your meaning has nothing to do with pain.

a smirk tugs at his lips, his eyes dark with intent as he begins kissing along the tattoo, lower and lower. each press of his lips sends a shiver through your body.

his hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as his mouth continues its path, exploring every inch of your skin, lingering on the spots that make you squirm, but not touching the place you desparately need him to.

“you’re so quiet now, ___,” he murmurs against your thigh, his lips brushing over your skin. “what happened to that smart mouth of yours?”

you bite your lip, trying to hold back a sound. “fuck off,” you breathe out, your words make his smirk grow wider.

his hands grip your thighs, holding you open as his head moves fully between them. his eyes lock onto your bare pussy, and he curses under his breath.

he leans in, his tongue sliding in a long, slow stride over your folds, making your eyes flutter shut. a soft, needy moan escapes your lips, your body already trembling like you’ve been waiting for this moment forever.

because, well, you have.

his tongue moves through your folds with such a delicious rhythm, licking every inch of you. your breathing grows heavier with each stroke, his mouth exploring you like he’s memorizing every reaction.

when his tongue finds your clit, he flicks it expertly, a few quick strokes before sucking on it. the sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, your mind spiraling into a haze.

“fuck,” you whisper, barely able to form words as his mouth works wonders on you.

he doesn’t stop. his tongue continues to explore you, his lips wrapping around your clit again while his hand comes up to join the mix. two fingers slide over your slick folds before finding your clit, rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his tongue. when his mouth moves lower, licking at your entrance, your thighs quiver, and a sharp moan slips past your lips.

“this what you wanted?” he rasps, his voice rough as he glances up at you, his fingers still circling your clit. your back arches instinctively, your body responding to his touch, and you squirm under him, unable to keep still.

when you don’t answer fast enough, his hand lifts slightly before coming down with a sharp slap to your pussy. the sting makes you whimper, your eyes shooting open as he smirks.

“what’s wrong?” he taunts, his fingers rubbing over your folds soothingly. “for someone who bitches about everything, you're so fucking quiet now.”

he presses two fingers against your entrance, teasing you, his movements deliberate as your body tenses.

“wanna cum on my fingers?” he asks, his tone low, his thumb still rubbing lazy circles on your clit.

“y-yes,” you stammer, your voice shaky but desperate. “fuck yes, wanna cum on your fingers,” you moan, your body arching when you feel his fingers slide in.

“shit, look at you,” he groans, his voice rough as his fingers curl inside you, hitting the perfect spot. “dripping so good for me,”

your moan spills out involuntarily, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. your hand reaches out instinctively, gripping his that’s still holding your thigh, your touch shaky but needy.

his fingers pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing against your clit in perfect rhythm. the wet sounds of your pussy, with your breathless moans, echo in the room mixed with the movie still playing in the background; filling his head with even more desire. his eyes flicker down to the visible bulge in his sweatpants, hard and straining against the fabric as he takes in the sight of you.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself, his movements never faltering. watching you like this; squirming, moaning, completely falling apart— does something to him he can’t ignore. he never thought it would actually come to this.

but he can’t deny it. he’s thought about it. more times than he’d ever admit. even when he tried to push those thoughts away, when he tried to convince himself it was wrong to see you like this, he could never stop. every time you provoked him, every time you pushed his buttons, it only made him think about it more.

and now? now he’s fucking gone. he loves this. he loves having you squirm beneath him.

“f-fuck, j-jungkook, so good!” you cry out, your voice trembling as your back arches off the couch. your brows pinch together, your lips parted, your entire body trembling under his touch. your eyes flutter shut, so close to rolling back, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation he’s giving you.

“yeah?” he breathes, his tone low and wrecked. “you look so fucking pretty like this, so fucking beautiful..” his pace quickens, his fingers pumping deeper, harder, pushing you closer and closer.

“that’s it, just like that,” he coaxes, as his fingers continue working inside you. his thumb presses firmly against your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure, driving you even closer to your release.

your breathing turns ragged, your body trembling beneath his touch as the heat coils tighter in your core. “j-jungkook, i’m gonna—”

“do it,” he murmurs, his gaze locked on your face, watching every expression, every twitch. “fucking cum for me,”

your body tenses, back arching. your walls clench around his fingers as your orgasm washes over you, waves of pleasure crashing through every nerve. you grip his wrist tightly, probably marking him, your thighs trembling as you ride out the high.

he slows his movements, letting you catch your breath, but he doesn’t pull away. instead, he watches you, his eyes dark and full of something you can’t quite place. he gently slips his fingers out, glistening with your release, and you watch, dazed, with your half-open eyes, as he brings them to his lips.

“fuck,” he mutters, licking his fingers clean, his tongue swirling around them as if savoring every taste of you. his gaze meets yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you taste fucking divine.”

“jungkook,” you whisper, your voice shaky but soft, not entirely sure what to say.

but.. before you can say anything, your phone starts ringing. both of your heads snap to the table where it’s vibrating.

the contact name reads “hater,” which you both know means jimin.

your eyes flick to jungkook. his expression shifts, and his hands, which were so close to touching you again, retreat. he steps back, leaving you frowning and still catching your breath.

“shit…” he mutters, standing up quickly, like he's guilty. you push yourself up too, sitting on the couch, not caring about the mess or the fact that you're still half-naked.

“are you fucking serious right now?” you snap, your voice dripping with frustration.

he sighs deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “just fucking pick it up.”

you scoff but grab your phone anyway, answering it and immediately putting it on speaker.

“what the fuck do you want?” you hiss.

“woah, who hurt you dumbass?” jimin’s voice is light, teasing.

you roll your eyes as jungkook silently fixes his clothes, avoiding your gaze.

“what is it?” you ask, your tone sharper than you intended.

“tell jungkook i’ll be late,” jimin says casually. “i texted him, but he wasn’t answering.”

jungkook looks around, realizing he left his phone on the kitchen counter earlier.

“is that all, brother?” you say, your voice dripping with fake sweetness, emphasizing the last word

“yeah, sister,” jimin replies mockingly, playing along. “go to sleep, it’s late, and don’t worry about jungkook.”

“care about your stupid model friends instead,” you mutter and hang up before he can say more.

jungkook exhales heavily, picking up your shorts from the floor. he places them gently on your lap, covering you, though he avoids looking at you entirely.

“what now? you’re just going to do nothing?” you demand, your voice rising with frustration.

“shut up, ___,” he says, his tone low. “we went too far. we need to stop. it’s better that we—”

“don’t tell me to shut it!” you snap, your voice breaking slightly. “you liked it just as much as i did! and—” you point at his pants, your eyes narrowing. “you’re still fucking hard, so don’t act like it didn’t mean anything.”

he groans, pressing his palm to his face. “just fucking get dressed. go to sleep.” he sighs. “we’re done here. don’t ever bring this up again.”

his words feel like a slap to the face.

“you’re just gonna walk away?” you askbut he doesn’t respond.

jungkook grabs his phone from the kitchen, heading for the front door.

“where are you even going?” you demand, anger and hurt swirling in your chest.

“out. need to cool off,” he says without looking back and walks out, the door shutting behind him.

you sit there, staring at the door.

this hurts. so. fucking. much.

what the fuck is his problem?

you want to scream, to fight, to get some kind of answer out of him, but he’s gone.

this was not okay. you can't forgive him. too fucking far.

you fucking hate jungkook.

note: wait ngl lmao i think i had a little too much fun w this ,, even though i was crying & trying to make the smut part even better 🥴

no series taglist !!

💌 permanent taglist: @annyeongbitch7 @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @jaytheatiny @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @rrosiitas @jjeonjjk7 @remgeolli @ty-moy-ya-tvoy @rpwprpwprpwprw

[matchalovertrait]

The day after Caruso posted his video, Dulce responded with one of her own to disprove his false claims about the "stolen" recipes. She brought up her extensive list of culinary experiences and screenshots of everything related to the cookbook when it was in progress. However, the damage had been done. Too many people turned their backs on Dulce. As everything came crashing down, she slowly stopped responding to her family and friends. Of course, everyone was alarmed. You can't just not respond like that out of the blue, especially when you're overseas! Now that Ángel and Esperanza have come to save the day, Dulce is looking to sue Caruso for defamation. I did say to never get into legal trouble with her! This marks the rebirth of Alegría v. Caruso!

Note: I am getting political here. As Election Day in the United States is around the corner, I urge people to fact-check everything. I'm seeing too many people on other social media platforms not doing the proper research. They see a video of one thing and take it as the sole truth. It seems like people have forgotten how to use Google, which is right at our fingertips. Make sure you're looking at reliable sources!

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

Transcript:

Dulce: I swear! That better not be him. A lot of people didn’t believe me or they didn’t bother to watch my explanation video. How am I supposed to recover from this?

Ángel: Dulce!

Dulce: Ángel and Esperanza?!

Ángel: Why haven’t you been answering anyone’s phone calls or texts??? It’s been 2 days.

Dulce: My career is over. My numbers are plummeting. People are crossing out my name on my cookbook and writing his name instead. Clients are canceling bookings with me. His crazy fans are giving me fake bad reviews. I’m through.

Esperanza: So what? It hasn’t been that long. Things can pick back up, Dulce. Why don’t you get your chef friends to vouch for you?

Dulce: I don’t want to rope anyone into my mess..

Esperanza: [Sighs] You know what? It’s sad to see you like this. Aren’t you going to plot something?

Dulce: I’ve done enough harm as it is! What do I do??? Sue him??? Oh wait, I already thought of that! I looked into it and no good lawyer wants to take the case. They’d rather represent actual stars like Judith Ward. I need to take this as a sign and finally grow up.

Ángel: C’mon, you know you want to do it.

Dulce: You’re encouraging it...? You don’t want to teach me a valuable life lesson like always?

Ángel: I think you learned your lesson. Make him learn his now.

Esperanza: My dad and Hilary both said they can help you pay for a REALLY good defamation lawyer. I think Hilary was freaking out the most about you not answering.

Ángel: Well, we all kinda were. You had Ama worried sick. But we didn’t file a missing person’s report because your friend came by and saw you well alive through your window.

Dulce: Oh, man. Dani probably got nervous and ran off. She never came to knock on the door.

Ángel: She’s a skittish one, isn’t she?

Dulce: Yeah, I have to apologize to her for not responding to her texts either. She knows about everything, but she might feel like she’s annoying me because I haven’t answered.

Esperanza: Wait, isn’t she a paralegal?

Dulce: Oh my gosh, you’re right! How’d I forget that? She might know someone who can help!

Ángel: Looks like we have a plan, then.

Esperanza: Um, I think part of this plan should be helping you clean up this place. Go put detergent in the washer, Ángel. I’ll get the clothes.

Dulce: My clothes??? Oh, no. They’ve been washed and dried. I just haven’t put them away. The only mess here is in my mind.

[envy-of-the-apple]

alright so i've been obsessing over family man and the more i think about it the more i'm convinced that the cat is gonna come out of the bag at some point. gojo might not want reader to know about jujutsu society, but becoming MRS gojo kinda puts a giant target on her back and the back of her baby and it's unfortunate that she doesn't know it. but. reina is capable of becoming a sorcerer, right?

how do we think familyman!gojo would be like as a dad during her upbringing, especially her teen years, when kids become far more interested in asserting themselves and differentiating themselves from their parents? would he be more controlling of her and if so when? he's so lenient with kids and encouraging them to grow they way they really want to, and i think this gojo would be like that as a dad as well. except. how it could implicate his relationship with reader.

would reina become a student at the tech, or would gojo try to keep her in the dark, too? gaslight her? or maybe worse, let her in on jujutsu society and try to turn it into an 'our little secret' thing, encouraging her to keep anything like that from her mom and sort of delude her into thinking she's protecting her mom by keeping her in the dark as much as possible. (rip kiyo and unnamed grandpa you have no chance at having any serious influence over gojo reina's life now even if you did love her, god forbid satoshi's influence be allowed to surface anywhere)

what would that be like for reader to have her daughter become a sorcerer and not really know it? for gojo to put a wedge between the two of them and keep the two of them from being able to honestly communicate with each other? would he intentionally try to make it a wedge? would he want what's best for reina (having an open and honest relationship with her mom) or would securing reader's ignorance be his number one concern?

what would it be like for him to even become reina's teacher? how would that influence his relationship with her? because canon gojo, i could see him trying to be the best dad he could be no matter what blood relation, and i think out of all the yan's familyman!gojo is amongst the closest to canon gojo in terms of disposition and circumstances (which is probably why he thrills me aslkjjsa),

but. the yan factor. how would reina having more agency and being in the position she is in change everything? and also. this reader isn't dumb. prone to missing things and denial, sure, she's kinda occupied with a LOT. but. i think she'd notice if something was up with reina. she already kinda notices that something's up with gojo, especially after he's made his romantic intentions apparent.

wouldn't reina inheriting her father's cursed technique just about ruin everything for gojo? because as much as she might not want to, this reader can connect the dots.

so like...as cruel as it is to say, the only reason gojo rlly cares about reina is cuz she's ms.sawai's daughter. he kinda sees reina as an extension of miss sawai. as we saw in the fic, he kept obsessing over how similiar miss sawai and reina were. as reina gets older, their relationship with eachother will get more distant. yknow how some parents only want babies and not humans? yeahhhh thats gojo! so he's not gonna be as controlling over her as he would be on miss sawai+any kids they have together. reina gets the best scenario in this case

i think i mentioned this in another ask but reina is a sorcerer and will have ce. so yes miss sawai will also learn about curses as well as how important gojo is buuuut miss sawai isnt gonna be able to put together the dots of what rlly happened to satoshi cuz there's no real papertrail. gojo is able to keep the stuff that he wants secret, a secret.

as for reina, due to miss sawai, i dont think she'll fully become a sorcerer (aka go to jujutsu tech/learn about CE). miss sawai wants reina to live a normal happy life. buuut the same cannot be said for the children miss sawai has with gojo. even if miss sawai tries to plead the case for them to live normally, gojo+ the clan wont accept it. he's gonna consider those extensions of himself and so ya, their all gonna be sorcerers.

strangely enough, Gojo's favorite kid will be reina. again, its mainly due to him seeing her as an extension of you, but he prefers her over his biological children.

and reina wont inherit satoshi's technique cuz the technique wasnt an inherited technique! but for the sake of discussion...i still dont think miss sawai would be able to put the dots together. despite how crazy the jjk world is..how can you figure out that your now husband fell in love with you via switching bodies with your late-husband and then got so jealous he wound up killing him to take his place???

[oddluver]

Here's the thing about Via's reaction to Stolas:

Via doesn't know the full picture. We, the audience, do. It's called Dramatic Irony. It's used to tell a narrative that the viewers know something the character does not and in the process of story telling, the character will eventually find out on their own. This kinda gets a lil long.

If you look at it, Via thought her parents were in a loving relationship, hence, why else would they have a child and all those family photos on the walls? She doesn't know that she is a precautionary heir because no one told her. We heard from Paimon that Stolas was to marry Stella for that sole reason and we heard Stolas say it about Via when confronted by Stella when she berated and hit him on his balcony.

But, that illusion of family was first shattered when Stella refused to comfort her own daughter when Via had a nightmare. Stella further doesn't care about her daughter when she talked about how she birthed her, "an egg falling out of her." Jeez, what a way to show you care about your kid. We only see Stolas take care of her, while her mother is usually annoyed at Stolas, seen fighting directly in front of Via, plotting assassination, and even rubbed it in Via's face that she can't interact with Stolas anymore. Not once has this woman shown any genuine concern for Via and even then, when Stella hugged her during Stolas' trial, it was for her own selfish gain. Alternatively, to Via, it looked like Stella was finally warming up to her and for once tried to comfort her daughter during a very serious moment in her life. Stella hugging her was the validation that Via needed that a parent still loved her, even if meant that person was Stella.

A younger Via became rightfully attached to the sole parent taking care of her. And when the parent that she loved and trusted, decided to cheat on her neglectful mom? Via became worried about being abandoned and for good reason too. Although when she confronted Stolas the first time at Loo Loo Land, Stolas didn't have the words to explain why he did what he did to Via. Even the second time around, he couldn't get the chance to tell her about his desires that we the audience already know and that Via is still stuck in the dark, despite only knowing that her dad chose Blitz over their family. Her refusal to hear him out is not her being "a dumb teenager" for plot, but rather the times that her father couldn't sit her down and talk about the reasons for his infidelity. The pills were the last and final confirmation that validated her feelings that her parents truly did not love each other and by extension, her.

She is seen as an obligation because that's what all she saw growing up from one parent to the other. To Stolas, his destiny was decided for him and when he got a taste of autonomy, the desires he so desperately wanted while in a relationship, he took the chance. Yet, he also only saw Via as his saving grace in the marriage. I believe he truly does care for Via and he wants both things, but unfortunately to Via, he's selfish and for the wrong reasons. And without Via knowing the deeper meanings as to why he loves and wants Blitz, she is creating a deeper wedge to spare herself from more disappointment and heartbreak.

[agendabymooner]

the little schuminis || ms47 fic

dad!mick schumacher x mom!ofc

EXTENSION TO SHE’S EVERYTHING… AND HE’S JUST MICK! (SMAU) + MICK, MULTIPLIED (SNAPSHOT)

Summary: Barbie Schumacher was the best mother there is to Mick’s little carbon copies. OR four times when Mick showed his devotion for his kids, and the one time his devotion paid off.

Content warning: Made this in about an hour— did not proofread this but I love it bc F1 driver with kids, All around fluff, Mick issa good dad, Michael Schumacher and Sebastian Vettel being wingmen to their kids (Barbie and Mick), Michael’s clowning his own son, many Schumacher kids

Note: @avaleineandafryingpan I know this isn’t much but I hope you love this request babygorl 😭😭🫶 my heart beats for you fr. Enjoy some dad!Mick content xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

i. the time with minna schumacher’s late night wake up call

Shrill cries of a newborn love was equal to the agony that Barbie Schumacher — formerly Blanco Vettel — felt as she groaned quietly. 3 AM never felt this awful until her firstborn child reached her teething stage, and all Barbie wanted to do was cry like her daughter was doing in her nursery now. 

Perhaps it wasn’t ideal to have a baby at the age of 27. Many people told her that her spouse wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment— that he was still on the peak of his career as a formula one driver. 

And Mick was in the midst of a season when Minna Elisa Schumacher was born. Being away from her for far TOO long was something he didn’t want, but he was forced to leave as soon as Minna reached her 47th hour of her life. Mick never hated something this much until his career made him choose. 

Barbie grumbled as she reached for her nightgown and slipped it on, only for a large hand to pull her back to the mattress as the German man murmured, “I’ll get her, liebling.” 

“Mick…” Barbie hadn’t really wanted to make him get up, seeing as he just arrived four hours ago after his triple header.

“‘s okay, I’ll get Minna,” he muttered, reaching out to kiss his wife’s forehead. “Just go get settled down and you can feed her here.” 

The blond man had immediately found Minna crying in her crib as he cradled her, heading downstairs to grab some iced teether to help soothe her gums. “Shh,” he shushed her gently, the baby’s cry subsiding immediately as she sucked on the teether. “You hungry, liebe? Or ‘s it just your gums?” 

“We have to stop waking your mom up at such an early time, Minnie baby,” he sighed, rocking her in his arms as they made their way back up to the bedroom. “She’s been awake all the time— she works too hard for us.” 

“She’s amazing, no?” Mick asked his daughter as if she could understand every single word he was saying. 

“Ma…” Minna mumbled regardless, clinging to his arms as Mick grinned tiredly. 

“Yeah, I know,” Mick nodded. “She’s working too hard, Minna. I’m glad she’s here to see you grow like this, liebe.” 

“Talking to Minna again, Schums?” A soft voice reached his ears as Mick looked back at his wife, who had her back against the headboard as she smiled tiredly and extended her arms. 

“Of course, Barbie,” Mick chuckled. “She’s got to learn her words, one of these days.”

“No need to lecture her though,” Barbie told him. But it wasn’t anything that she didn’t appreciate; she always liked it when Mick talked to their child like Minna understood everything. He had been doing this since Barbie fell pregnant with the girl— he’d often crouch down or lay next to her bulging stomach to speak to the growing baby inside of her. 

It showed Barbie that Mick was a committed father. It showed that regardless of his situation as a busy driver, he always saw his family as his number one priority. Perhaps that was why Barbie loved Mick so much. 

ii. the time with gisela schumacher’s first ballet show

Gisela Belle Schumacher’s first little ballerina performance was happening in the program facility and everyone made sure to show up. 

By everyone, I mean Barbie’s family, the Vettels, and Gisela’s (or Gigi) aunt Gina, Pippa Michael and Nina Corinna. The two year old was excited to show everyone what she practiced with Madame Pinault throughout her three months of being at the class. 

She was the tiniest girl out of the group, with her bright blue eyes and blonde hair making her stand out in comparison to her peers’ darker tones of hair. The Schumachers and Vettels knew which one to look out for while they waited at the auditorium.

Barbie peered down at her phone and sighed quietly. Mick wasn’t here yet. Stupid flight of his.

At Gigi’s age, she couldn’t easily grasp the concept of people not being able to make it to certain events at the right time. All she knew was that she was going to show her Dada how she could balance on her tiptoes without a problem. 

And of course, Mick couldn’t find himself to break her heart like that. And so, after the Brazilian GP, he took the fastest flight back to Lausanne. 

And there he was, rushing inside the auditorium with the biggest bouquet for the littlest girl. 

Minna’s announcement led the families to look at him as Mick kissed Barbie’s lips and Minna’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Mick apologized, “the baggage claim took longer than expected.”

“She hasn’t gone out yet,” Barbie laughed quietly, mindlessly caressing Minna’s blonde hair as she continued to speak, “glad to see you back from the race in one piece, though. With the biggest flowers too.”

Later after the performance, Gigi ran around the Schumacher home with the bouquet bragging about the flowers her Dada had given her. Barbie laughed at the sight of the girl— she was too adorable.

Mick laughed along, as he knew that he’d be more than happy to come carrying the biggest flowers for his girl— even after the longest double header he’s had. After all, nothing can stop him from being the best father to his children.

iii. the time with mika schumacher’s birthday party

“Who decided that setting up a pet display should be this fuc—“

“Mick, watch your words.”

“Sorry, Dad.” 

“Stop going crazy,” Michael said with a frown, throwing the small giraffe plushie at the direction of his son, to which Mick reacted with an ‘Ow!’ after being hit in the face. “This isn’t the first birthday party you’ve handled.” 

“Well this is the first one where ‘pet adoptions’ are a thing,” Mick gestured at the safari animal plushies at hand. “I don’t know what came up to Gina thinking it’s easy to find bulk plushies, but this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done— and I have three kids, Dad!”

“Because you can’t control yourself,” Michael mumbled, making Mick glare at him. Michael shrugged, “Am I incorrect?” 

Mick couldn’t even find himself to argue with his dad. Six years into the marriage, and he and Barbie already had three kids under seven. 

“I’m just so used to the girls wanting princesses and all of that,” Mick pouted lightly. 

Michael sighed, “Well, now you have Mika— think of him as you. What did you like when you’re a kid? Put yourself in his shoes. Don’t tell me you’re having an existential crisis three kids into marriage? I’m actually gonna be disappointed if you didn’t think that before you had the kids— you’ve been a driver for years!” 

“How can you find a time to joke about it,” Mick sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t even know why I’m here being an ass about my kid’s birthday party.” 

“Because,” Michael told him with a purse of his lips, “you’ve never had a son before— that’s why you’re stressing out about messing up.” 

“I struggled with you for a good while,” Michael shrugged nonchalantly, “Gina was into princesses and pink ponies. You were a boy— I didn’t know what baby boys liked. But I was a racer, that’s why I didn’t have any questions— I still hesitated though because you might like something else and I have to be aware of it.” 

“From what I can tell, you’re doing an alright job so far,” Michael smiled at Mick, patting him on the shoulder. “Miki’s been a happy child. That’s what matters, no?”

“So pick up your sad face and put those plushies up,” Michael said.

A delighted scream came from inside the house as the year old boy escaped from Kimi Vettel’s chasing, giggling as Mika Sebastian Schumacher ran as much as his little legs could handle. 

Eventually he found himself in the arms of Mick as Mika hid from his Uncle Kimi. 

“Da!” Mika screamed delightfully, kicking his legs when Kimi Vettel began tickling the boy. 

Mick and Michael exchanged grins.

Yeah, Mick would continue to put these plushies up if it meant that he’s making his son happy. 

iv. the time with michael ‘mikey’ schumacher’s introduction to the world

Michael Senna, or Mikey, Schumacher was born sixteen hours ago, his tiny body was proof that he was so much like his mother. Yet despite the smallness of his, his facial features and expressions of contentment showed that he was his father’s son. 

Another Mick Schumacher had been born into the world, and Barbie and Mick (alongside their family in Switzerland) welcomed him with open arms. 

And no one was more than excited than the newborn’s namesake, his Pippa Michael, and Sebastian Vettel when meeting the little boy. In fact, they raced through the hospital as soon as they heard that Barbie, Sebastian’s adoptive daughter, had given birth to Mick’s second son. 

Michael was more than happy to meet the boy— just as he was excited to meet his other grandchildren— but to meet little Mikey Schumacher was a moment to remember for everyone. Because that was also the time when Mick announced that…

“I’m retiring,” both Seb and Michael looked at the man with surprised expressions as if they wondered if they heard him right.

Mick explained, “I feel like I’ve lost a lot of time with the kids because I’ve been racing. The kids obviously don’t know how much time I’ve lost because they’re young but… I do. Barbie does.

“It took me a good while to understand what Mika loved— it took me a while to learn how to keep Gigi from having flyaways in her hair during her ballet classes— or how Minnie managed to handle her equestrian routine without Gina or Mom.

“I’ve lost a lot of time,” he said with a small chuckle and a shake of his head. Mick then gestured at Mikey, who remained peacefully sleeping in Michael’s arms as he said, “And with Mikey, I think I can’t afford to do that anymore. I’m okay with one championship only.”

Sebastian broke the silence after, “I’m proud of you Mick,” he smiled softly before reaching out to hug his in-law. “Look at how far Barbie and you’ve come.”

“Back then we had to goad him to ask Barbie on a date,” Michael chuckled quietly.

“It took us eight years,” Sebastian joked.

“Or nine,” Michael snorted.

“We’re still here,” Barbie mumbled in her sleep, “stop making jokes about it.” 

“Still,” Michael said, “we’re very happy for you and Barbie, son.”

“This is where your life begins,” Sebastian nodded, “all you need to do is to tell everyone about your commitments and devotion for your children and wife.” 

i. the time mick’s devotion paid off

Being a retired driver felt great. It wasn’t everyday Mick got to say that— and now he had every chance to. 

Barbie’s family restaurant in Lausanne, one that she named SV et Blanco, had been built years ago— it was the Vettels and Schumachers’ pride. After she graduated from culinary school, Barbie worked as a chef in nearby restaurants before eventually deciding that she wanted a place where family could start their traditions through countless dishes and desserts to try. 

Needless to say, it became a local and even international favourite. Many tourists in Switzerland would try to stop by Lausanne just to get a taste of Kimi Vettel’s favourite spinach and egg soufflé.

And now, SV et Blanco became a place for the Schumachers to spend their time during the Friday afternoons after Minna and Gigi’s classes. Mick would always pick up his daughters with Mika and ten month old Mikey on their car seats.

And after that, he’d come dropping by the restaurant. With Mika on his pram and Mikey on his back carrier, he led the kids into the restaurant as they found their mother making her rounds around the place. 

“Mama!” Minna exclaimed before she and Gigi ran towards Barbie, hugging her around the legs. 

“Oh, excuse me,” Barbie smiled at the guests before she crouched down to hug her girls. “Gigi, Minnie— hello! How’s school!” 

“School is good, Mama!” Gigi grinned. “I got star for writing!”

“That right? Good job, Gigi,” Barbie grinned. “And you, Minnie? How is your school?”

“Okay! I want soufflé though!” The eldest Schumacher pouted lightly. “I wanna see Pippa and Nina!”

“Pippa and Nina! And Sebby— and Mamma Bel!” Mika shouted from his pram.

Barbie giggled lightly before looking up at her husband, “And…? How’s Dada, kids?”

“Dada’s not that busy,” Mick giggled, “hungry for some soufflé though— Minna’s right.”

“Well,” Barbie clapped her hands before standing up, “it’s a good thing it’s our everyday special.”

“Great,” Mick joked. “Otherwise we traveled to Lausanne for nothing.”

Barbie rolled her eyes playfully.

It was a good thing Mick’s devotion and commitment for his kids were paying off. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be the retired father that he is now— his kids wouldn’t be adoring their mother as much as Mick did back when they were teenagers and secretly in love. 

[liljakonvalj]

I watched the Great Mouse Detective tonight and as someone who loves this movie, here's some of my thoughts:

First of all and this cannot be overstated: Best. Sherlock. Holmes. Adaptation.

I was today years old when i discovered that Olivia and her dad are Scottish (which explains her father talking about catching a train at the end of the movie)

(I grew up with the swedish vhs and watched it in english for the first time today. in swedish none of the character's have any particular dialect )

The aesthetic of Victorian human London but with mice having a miniature society mirroring it?? Love that!!

Despite Basil being the titular character and being the main character in so far that he's the one going on a personal journey and change through the movie- Dawson is the POV character for most of the movie which I find interesting

The transitions when Basil tells them about Ratigan and then showing the audience what he's up to and then back to Basil's apartment are stellar

All the songs are sung in universe - I think this is the only disney movie to do this??

And two of them sung by the villain?! Outstanding move

(It should be mentioned that the remaining song was sung by sexy, stripper mice in a bar)

The heroes drink alcohol, get drugged, enjoy a strip tease and accidentaly causes a bar fight all in the same scene

Yes, the toy store was both entrancing and scary to me as a child. The first doll they see when they enter? That doll whose face smashes and nearly kills Basil and Watson? The toys from which Fidget steals the mechanics? All super terrifying

Ratigan is the only character to have a human-like five-fingered hand, all the others have standard animated four-fingered hands

Ratigan mention a that he thought basil would be 15 minutes quicker to find his lair - which he uses to taunt his enemy but it also means he cannot be there to observe his machine killing his captives. That gives them the opportunity to escape unseen. If Basil and Dawson hadn't been late they probably wouldn't have survived, just saying

The clock tower sequence!! I actually clapped when it started

The cogwheels were computer animated while the mice were drawn by hand - which makes for a really dynamic moving camera

(The man who talked about this in the extras were so enthusiastic about this. Love that for him)

Speaking of moving camera - I greatly enjoyed the camera movement when Rattigan jumped over the citizens to reach the balcony with Olivia and the bat after his plan had been foiled at Buckingham palace. It was really fluent and full of angles

Back to the clocktower: when Ratigan snaps and you can see the angry pen strokes?? They simply don't make movies like this anymore

That was of course very scary too as a child

The final battle outside on the clock hands? Give this movie all awards !!

When Basil comes cycling on that little propeller thing? Link in Tears of the kingdom wishes he could do that

In the extras someone mentioned that they'd made extensive backstories of all the characters: why Rattigan became evil, how it was for Basil to grow up so smart etc. And i desperately want to read that

I know no one cares about the swedish voice actors but I found the different performances of both Basil and Rattigan interesting. I know Vincent Price is much beloved as Ratigan (justly so) but idk if it is nostalgia speaking but I think swedish Ratigan really held up. There were actually some lines that I knew by heart in swedish where the delivery was preferable to the English one for me. After looking it up i saw that the swedish VA is an opera singer (base) which really isn't a surprise given his performance. Basil's voices were really similar normally (so similar I didn't hear the change when I switched between languages - which i did one time to freshen up the swedish voices) but the VA in swedish goes up in falsetto quite often which gives a quite manic impression. Swedish!Basil's sanity is hung by a thread in his restless pursuit of his arch nemesis - which makes his devastation when Ratigan bests him more believable imo. English!Basil is much more a proper, brittish gentleman throughout. All performances were great, I just found the differences interesting.

I have some Core visuals from this movie living rent free in my mind since childhood which are: when Basil compares the two bullets, the closeups as Fidget jumps out at the audience, when Dawson pulls out the glass door with his finger, Ratigan squishing Olivia's doll, Basils machine when analyzing the paper, when Toby makes a stair out of his ear, that flag/balloon/matchbox contraption they used to chase Ratigan at the end, the end fight on the clock arms.

Did i miss your favourite part of the movie? Any core memories from this movie for you?

[milkteaarttime]

First Meet(pt. 2)

Thanks for the positive words on my last fic!!! Here's the part 2!

3.1k words, soo much dialogue... Please be nice to my cringy fic lol

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

When Logan saw Latte’s form emerge from behind Merrick’s brick wall of a body, he knew that he had met her at the hospital back in January. She was the nurse who treated Hesh when he came out of a procedure for a rather nasty combat injury. He watched as Latte’s gaze swept across the room and abruptly stopped on Hesh. He shifted his eyes back to Hesh, attempting to discern whether Hesh himself remembered her or not. Hesh’s eyebrows raised in confusion, his eyes locked on Latte, but there were no signs of recognition.

Latte breaks off her eye contact first as she has to introduce herself. Logan laughed, realizing that Hesh didn’t remember her and, by extension, the hilarious events of him coming off the anesthesia from his procedure. 

The brothers observed from a distance as she set up her little station on the lone table across the room. She takes out Blood pressure cuffs, a pulse oximeter, and some other equipment that they don't care much for the name of. Elias calls for a volunteer, and Merrick decides to go first and “get this shit over with.”  

Logan takes this moment to nudge Hesh on the arm. Hesh looks back over at him.

“Hmm? What's up?” 

“You remember her?” He questioned, tilting his head towards where Latte was seated.

“The nurse?” Hesh asked, confused. 

“Yeah, Latte.” He chuckled. 

“Don't think so, Logan. I’d remember if someone with a name like Latte ever spoke to me.” Hesh confirmed he wouldn’t forget someone with such a unique name, and now that he is thinking about it, he wonders if it's a nickname.

“You really don’t remember her, huh? I don’t blame you. You were pretty out of it from the pain at the time and on pretty heavy drugs.” He recalls, snickering at the memories,

“Good thing Dad didn’t see you goofy on those meds, reaaal embarrassing.” 

“Logan…what, what did I do?”

”Heh Heh.”

”Logan, come on, spit it out.” Hesh said, growing more concerned. Upon seeing his brother get antsy, Logan relented.

“….I think it's better if you see for yourself.” Logan pulls out his phone, pulls up a video after a moment of scrolling, and puts in one earbud, handing the other to Hesh. Hesh eyed Logan wearily, knowing how mischievous Logan could get, before taking the earbud and putting it in. Logan hits play on the video.

In the video, Hesh is lying in a hospital bed. A cacophony of machine beeps and the whirling of air vents can be heard in the background. The camera pans from Hesh’s face to his hand, and his hand is gripping onto the wrist of someone standing by his bed. 

“This is crazy… sorry, miss. He has never acted like this before.” Logan’s voice comes up, apologetic and baffled in tone. 

“Come on, David, let go of the nurse. She has a job to do!” 

“NOoooo, I wanna hold hands…give me yur hannd” Hesh slurred and moved his hand from her wrist to her hand, holding tight. 

“I-it’s okay. People say or do strange things because of the anesthesia all the time.” 

A feminine voice said. The video pans toward the nurse’s head, the voice belonging to Latte. 

The very nurse who was here to assess their health. Hesh’s eyes widened. 

“Logan, what—“

”Shhh, keep watching.” 

“I have to take your vitals, sir. Mind if I hold your hand after?” Latte, in the video, attempted to negotiate with Hesh.

”MMm nO, youu are holding my hand wrong. Hold it like this.” The drugged-up Hesh proceeds to intertwine and lace his fingers with Latte’s. 

Hesh’s face began to burn a bright red as he continued watching the recording. The only words in his mind he could conjure up were ‘HOW?’ and ‘WHAT?’

”Hesh no!” Logan’s desperate voice calls out. The camera shakes as he stands up to walk over and help pry Hesh’s hand off poor Latte. 

“LATTE THERE YOU ARE.” Latte’s manager’s voice can be heard off-screen. 

“Room 12 is asking for his water and painkillers, Room 11, bed 4, is upset because you said you’d get him a blanket, but he hasn’t seen one in hours, and Room 13’s family is looking for you again. You have to Speed it up!” The camera pans to Logan’s face, his concern and awkwardness concealed by his mask, before panning back to Hesh and Latte. 

“Sorry, Lauren, I will be out in a moment. I just need t—“ 

“I don’t care! We.Are.Short.Staffed. And no one is working fast enough. Now call bells are ringing up and down the damn unit. Either you little nurses in your pretty little scrubs are ignoring these poor people, or you are not hauling ass enough. Get —“ 

”LAUREN SHUT THE FUCK UP.” Latte’s voice is sudden, sharp, and loud. The room is silent except for Hesh’s incoherent babbles and machine beeping. The manager managed to let out a few stutters before Latte spoke again. 

“Since you are short-staffed and desperate, how about you convince me to stay here? After all, you NEED me to pick up shifts. You NEED me to keep working here so you are not even more short-staffed. Every day you blow up my phone when someone else calls out with bullshit reasons! Nurses get snatched up everywhere, so why don't you convince me to stay?” If looks could kill, Latte would have ODIN-ed Lauren into smithereens. 

“…I will go answer the call bells and talk with room 13’s family…” was all the manager could say after a pause. The recording cuts off there. 

“Soooo, that was it. You remember now, Hesh?” Logan chuckled, and he glanced back at Hesh. 

“… Hesh?”

Hesh’s current state of mind is the personification of the word ‘Mortified.’ His face was a deep crimson, eyes wide in disbelief, and Jaw still dropped. Frozen in his seat, it was as if his soul waltzed out of the room, went to buy milk, and never returned. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, but no sound comes out. Logan can see the tips of his ears burning red. When Hesh finally was able to move, he slapped both of his hands over his face and groaned into his hands.

On Latte's end, she had just finished taking Merrick’s vitals and assessments and now moved on to questioning Merrick. 

“Following the MRE consumption, did you experience any vomiting?”

”Yes.” Merrick answered. “I think most of us did.” 

“That doesn’t sound fun. How long did the vomiting and nausea persist?”

“I was okay after the 4th or 5th day.”

“I see. How about bowel movements? Did you experience GI symptoms such as intense stomach pain and or diarr—“

”No—No, none of that! Just the vomiting and nausea.” Merrick answered quickly,

“Could you have asked me that any louder?” 

“My apologies, captain,” Latte politely responded to Merrick’s grumbling, ignoring his attitude change. She understood Merrick did not want to drag this on for too long or expose his bowel habits to everyone. 

“I recommend that you increase your intake of electrolytes and replenish lost fluids. Dehydration from all the vomiting may also be a reason for your slight blood pressure elevation. Thank you for your time, Captain Merrick." Latte quickly jotted down some notes of her treatment recommendations. 

After Hesh recovered a little from his shock, he weakly looked at Logan, ”Oh god… I can't believe it. I just— what do I even say to her when it's my turn?? Do I apologi—” Just as Hesh was trying to calm himself and ask for Logan’s advice. Elias's voice interrupted him. 

“Hesh! You go next.” 

The colour drains out of Hesh’s face, and seeing his brother’s crisis, Logan placed a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the snort of laughter escaping. Hesh darts a glare towards Logan. But Elias's voice came again before he could demand Logan to stop laughing. 

“Hesh?”

“Y-yea, right away, dad.”

“Don’t scare the pretty nurse this time!” Logan whisper-yelled at him. Hesh rolls his eyes at his brother before walking over to the table where Latte is. Latte opens a new page on her notepad and looks up to Hesh as he gets closer. ‘Mutton chops, mutton chops, buzz cut…where have I—‘

She suddenly remembered him, letting out the tiniest gasp. ‘The hand-holding guy!!!' she yelled in her head. She smiled warmly beneath her mask and greeted Hesh as he sat beside her. Latte is always fond of seeing familiar faces, especially previous patients. 

“Lieutenant David Walker, correct? Your brother called you David during your stay with us at the start of the year. I remember you! How have you and Logan been?” She beamed at Hesh, eager to chat a little.  

“Oh gosh, I uh—been great, Logan too. I’m sorry about that whole thing. My brother showed me the recording, and I have no idea why I was so determined to hold your hand.” Hesh said, sheepishly rubbing his buzzed head. 

Latte laughed a little at his flustered state, shaking her head a little. 

“It's fine, Lieutenant.”

“Please, Hesh or David is fine.” 

“Hesh, it is then. It's totally okay that you reacted that way! Plenty of people do silly things coming off of the drug. It's a common side effect.” She smiled warmly under her surgical mask, eyes squinting. 

“Can you please put your finger in here? And do you have a preference for which arm to use for blood pressure?” Latte opens the oximeter for Hesh. Hesh inserts his index finger in the pulse oximeter, and shakes his head no at her question.

“Whichever is easier for you.” He replied, watching her palpate his arm for his artery. As she felt along his muscular arm, He felt his stomach flutter, and his face heated up a little at the proximity. Hesh studies Latte’s face as she works on getting the BP cuff sorted out. Hesh notes a scar peeking out from under her chin where her mask didn’t cover her that trailed down towards the back of her neck. Shiny layered black hair and nicely shaped eyebrows, a notch in her left ear, a mole under her upturned eyes that squints when she smiles—

“—esh, Hesh? Can I use your left arm?” Latte’s voice startles him back to reality. Realizing he had been staring directly at her, he immediately breaks eye contact. Hoping she didn’t notice him staring. 

”Y-YEah, sure thing.” Hesh clears his throat and tilts his left arm towards her, his voice cracking slightly. He turned his head to where Logan was, and of course, Logan had a shit-eating grin and made a hand-holding gesture by dramatically raising his hands in front of himself and slowly lacing his fingers together. A blatant attempt at mocking him. He shot a glare at Logan, mouthing a ‘fuck you,’ earning a middle finger back from Logan. The brothers only stopped when Elias cleared his throat and gave them both a questioning stare. At the same time, Latte rolled his T-shirt sleeve up and tried her damn hardest not to drool over Hesh’s well-toned bicep.

The sensation of the BP cuff inflating brought Hesh’s attention back to Latte. She slid the bell of her stethoscope over his brachial artery, skillfully pumping the BP cuff up to 150 on the gauge and letting it drop. She listened intensely and watched as the needle of the BP gauge ticked down. In less than 30 seconds, she managed to get a reading of his blood pressure. She removed the BP cuff and pulse oximeter and reached for a temporal scanner. She quickly scanned Hesh’s forehead before jotting down all his vital findings.

“Just a few more things. I Need to listen to your chest and stomach.” She puts on her stethoscope and waits for Hesh to lift his shirt. 

“Sure.” He sat there waiting for her to do what she needed. Latte looked at him expectantly. He looked back, confused, wondering why she was stalling suddenly.

“Oh, sorry! I forgot to mention that I’ll need you to lift your shirt.” 

“Oh! Right, yeah.” 

He pulls his shirt up, and Latte leans to place the scope on his chest. But Hesh flinches at the cool metal and accidentally elbows her under her chin. She lets out a small ‘eep!’ of surprise while he rushes to apologize.

“Sorry! Are you hurt?!”

“Sorry! The scope is a bit cold.” They apologized to each other at the same time.

“Wait why are you sorry? I bumped into you.”

“…I’m Canadian.” 

The two sat in a moment of awkward silence. Hesh has never been this flustered around a person before. He is sure that if he turned his head back, Logan would be there trying to hold back his laugh. He just prayed that his father didn’t witness his idiocy. On the other hand, Latte was kicking herself internally for saying ‘I’m Canadian’ like a goofball instead of offering a proper response. She placed the stethoscope bell in her hand and warmed it up.

“… Are you ready to be auscultated now? It should be less cold this time.” 

“Uh, sure, yeah.” 

She leaned in again and gently placed the bell on his pec. She moved in a ladder position down his chest and to his sides. She then moved to his stomach, listening for sounds in all four quadrants. From the outside, she was calm, but as she continued to assess him, she suddenly realized something: He had a really well-built body. This sudden realization sent her reeling. She has seen countless soldiers and inspected countless other athletic bodies, but this is the first time her heart has jumped like this. 

‘NO! THAT'S YOUR PATIENT STOP!!!’ The rational portion of her mind screeched. 

‘But… he’s hot…” The less rational part countered. Latte chose to redirect her mind to the sound of Heshed breathing instead of her inner dialogue.  

“Lung sounds are clear, heartbeat is good, active bowel sounds in all four quadrants…” Latte mumbles her findings. She was attempting to distract herself.

“Does it hurt when I press on your stomach?” She palpated his belly with the flat of her hand, feeling her heart leap into her throat as his muscles twitched under her touch. 

‘This is just a routine assessment. This is just a routine assessment. This is just a routine—‘ Latte chanted repeatedly in her head as her hands touched across his abs. Hesh shakes his head no. 

“Good. I have just a few questions left, and that's about it. What symptoms did you experience last week?” 

Hesh pauses to ponder momentarily. “stomach pain…and maybe headaches? Not anymore, though.” 

“Okay, any other GI symptoms? Things like dia-” 

“No! Uh, I mean, there's none.” Hesh frantically responds before Latte can finish her question but realizes he may have appeared rude. He lets out an awkward laugh.  

“That's good. Your baseline is fine. Just make sure you hydrate and monitor for any more symptoms. You are free to grab someone else for the assessment.” Latte beams at him before wiping down her equipment in preparation for the next person’s turn. 

“Thanks, Latte.” Hesh flashed her a crooked smile, and Latte felt her stomach do another small flip at his smile. She quickly dismissed the feeling, opting to remain professional, and sent him off with a small ‘No worries!’. He got up and returned to his seat. 

“You sure took your time. And your ears are reddd~” Logan’s taunting voice confirmed Hesh’s suspicion that he was observing Latte and Hesh’s interaction throughout the assessment. 

“Shut up and go, it's your turn, Logan.” Hesh took out his beanie and tugged it over his ears before putting his arms on each other and laying face down into them, ignoring the strange looks from his teammates. 

“So, Logan, is it? Nice to see you and your brother again. I just need you to—“

”Are you single?” 

“I...I am, but why are you asking?” Latte managed to squeak out, shocked at his directness. 

”No reason; I'm just curious since you asked lotsa questions about us, so it's fair, no?” Logan grinned knowingly.

After a short while, Logan returned to his seat, and Keegan went up for his turn. He nudges Hesh again, and Hesh peeks at Logan with a half-glare.

“What now?”

”She's single.” 

“What? How did you—“

”I asked, and she said she is. Go for it.” Logan gave Hesh a grin. 

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

After everyone had been assessed, Latte packed up her bag. Hesh watched as she spoke a little with Elias. Elias thanked her for coming up to the base, and Latte waved her hands and told him it was no big deal. She pulls out a printed piece of paper with information on the location of her hospital and contact details for her unit in case there are any questions. Before she could step out, Hesh mustered up the courage and walked up to her, offering to walk her back out of the base. 

The pair silently strolled through the base and stopped just outside the gate, out of earshot of the soldiers guarding it. Hesh stood with his hands in his pockets, and Latte fidgeted with her bag strap. She was about to say goodbye to Hesh when he suddenly spoke up.

“So…Latte, is that a nickname?”

”No, haha. It's actually my English name. My mom saw it on a café poster.”

“What's your actual name? If you don't mind me asking, that is.”

”Mmhmm, I don’t mind, it’s Chinese, spelled S-H-U-X-I-N. Kinda hard to say to non-Chinese speakers, so I just go by La—”

”Shu..Xin? Is... that right?” 

Latte froze. She looked straight at him in surprise. He said it right. HE SAID IT RIGHT.

“Ye-yeah, that's the right way to say it!!” She almost cheered.

Hesh flashed her a big grin before looking a little nervous. He took a big breath, “Say… Latte, I still feel terrible about what happened that day. I mean, I know I was not in control of my actions ‘cause of the meds. But you nearly lost your job, and I need to make it up to you somehow… Are you free this weekend?” Hesh held his breath, staring at Latte and waiting for her answer, 

“Are you... asking me out?” Latte’s bewildered expression jumps out before she can control her face.

“It's okay if you don’t—”

“No! No, I am free. I will make sure I am!” 

Hesh lets out an enormous sigh of relief, suddenly really thankful for having a brother like Logan in his life. 

“It's a date, then!” he exclaimed. He grabbed his phone and exchanged contacts with Latte. The pair said their goodbyes before Hesh returned, almost skipping into the base like an excited teenager again, leaving the gate guards confused. 

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

“What did she say?”

”She said yes!”

”You owe me one Hesh.”

[starkstruck27]

My next entry for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it event, still day one, but I'm posting them separately because yeah. Prompt: SFW - Language of Flowers Title: Mystified Defines it Best Word Count: 5131 words TWs: Mildly Dubious Consent, Explicit Content

Billy had a problem. He had a few, actually, but of them, there were two very big ones that he had to deal with at present. For one, he was stuck in this new little podunk town in the middle of nowhere, and he didn’t like it. You see, he was a warlock, or a male witch, and he got the sneaking suspicion that not many of the conservative christian population of his new area would take too kindly to that. Not only that, but it was a rural place that was cold for half the year, and that’s why his dad chose to move them all here. He knew Billy always had flowers around him, even if he didn’t know why, and in a place that was frozen over six months out of the year, he wouldn’t be able to get them as easily as he did in California. It bothered Billy, because he used flowers in a lot of his spells, just like his mother had taught him, and his only consolation was that there were a couple of flower shops in town he was hoping to get a job at once they got settled. 

But he also had a bigger problem, one that he didn’t quite know how to solve, and the problem’s name was Steve Harrington. 

Billy had met him on Halloween, and immediately had been drawn to him. He was beautiful, and kind, and just had this allure to him that captivated Billy to the point that he wanted his attention, no matter what kind it was. Positive, negative, it didn’t matter, as long as Steve was focused on him. It became like a game, how easily could he get his attention and keep it, and the more he played it, the more addicted he became. He wanted him, and as he began to crave his attention more and more, he finally decided to do something about it.

Luckily for him, a few days after they moved to town, Billy had found the time to go around and check out the flower shops in town. There were three of them, a little farmer’s market that sold flowers and produce, a small shop that sold arrangements mostly for special occasions, and a larger shop that sold flowers for everyday use. He looked at all three of them, and they were all nice, but the one that he was most impressed with was the third one. It had a decently sized greenhouse and was owned by a lady named Becky, though she didn’t actually work there much these days, since she had a disabled sister she needed to care for. Still, all new hires had to go through her, and as soon as Billy saw the ‘Help Wanted’ sign in the window, he called the number listed and set up a time to meet her. She was impressed with his extensive knowledge of flowers and plants, and thus offered him the job right away, asking when he could start. Billy started the next day, and within a week, had the job down to a science, as well as free reign of the shop and the greenhouse.

Billy couldn’t believe his luck. Not only did he have a job that actually paid him decently, but he also had access to a lot of out of season flowers that he wouldn’t have otherwise been able to acquire. And thus, he took every available shift he could, eager to start collecting as many flowers as he could for the spell he was planning to concoct.

It was a simple spell, one that his mother had taught him before she left, to help attract a person to another. There were a few variations that one could add to it depending on what they wanted to get out of it. But she cautioned him, she had used it on his father, and it had been good for a while, but once she began to feel affection for another, the spell soured, and in turn had a reverse effect. Instead of his love for her growing, it was diminished and turned to hatred. She told him that he had to be careful with it, because the more the spell was cast, the more intense the hatred will be if it goes wrong. She told him to only use the more mild versions, to attract friendship or respectful bonds, but Billy was never one to do as he was told.

So he collected what he needed, storing them in jars until he was ready to use them, and finally, on a day in the middle of November, he finally had everything. 

He waited until nobody else was home, then went to the kitchen, getting out a bowl and cheesecloth he’d bought earlier. He knew his family would be out for the rest of the night, Max was with her little friends and his dad had taken Susan for a date night, so he had all the time he needed to do what he wanted. He put the cheesecloth in the bowl, then filled it with water, and once it was full, he turned back to the sink, getting out his flowers, a cutting board and a knife. 

It was a simple process, really. First, he washed the flower petals, making sure no dirt was on them so as not to muck up the spell. Then, he chopped up the petals into small pieces, and finally, he was ready to start speaking the words. He didn’t know why the old witches considered themselves poets, but who was he to critique their methods?

“Cockscomb for affection, orange lily for desire, and to add some pleasure, some primrose is required,” he started, adding the flower bits to the bowl with the water as he went, “Ranunculus for fascination, lale is there for lust, some fennel for protection, and bluebell for some luck. White willow to enthrall you, bonewort so I’m on your mind, scorpion-grass so you forget me not, and cape jasmine to make you mine. Peony to get you in the mood, squill to make it last, and finally some crocus I'll add, to keep you coming back.”

After reciting the words, Billy put the lid on the bowl, gently swishing the water and petals around before taking it back to his room and hiding the bowl under his bed. It would need a day or so to rest, and then he could distill it into a cologne of sorts, and all he had to do was think of Steve every time he used it. That wouldn’t be hard at all, he already thought of Steve most of the time anyway.

It only took four days of using the stuff for it to work. 

On that day, a fairly warm day for the end of November, Billy was in the parking lot, leaning on his car and waiting for Max to come from the middle school, when Steve approached him. He looked a mix of confused, curious and wary, but he didn’t let it stop him, and soon enough he was standing right in front of Billy.

“Hey there, pretty boy,” Billy smiled, slipping his hands in his pockets and standing up straighter, “What can I do you for?”

“What did you do to me?” Steve asked, not bothering with any preamble.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Billy said, his grin only widening as he relaxed against his car again.

“Oh, really? You didn’t do anything?” Steve glared a little, “Then why can’t I get you out of my head? For weeks I hardly thought of you at all, but now, all of a sudden, you’re almost permanently in my head and I know you have to have something to do with it.”

“I think you’re a little confused, amigo,” Billy chuckled, shaking his head. “That doesn’t sound like anything I did to you. If anything, it almost sounds like you’re getting obsessed with me.”

“What? No way! Why would I obsess over you after what you did to my face a few weeks ago?” 

“I don’t know, princess, but it sounds to me like maybe you’ve got a little crush on me,” Billy shrugged, his heart speeding up a little.

“That’s ridiculous! I’m not even into guys,” Steve said, fighting to keep his voice down as his brows knit together like he was worried.

“How do you know? Have you ever tried it?” Billy leaned forward, getting in Steve’s face a little. 

“What? N-no! Why would you even ask that?! I’m not queer!” Steve scream-whispered, starting to squirm a little, much to Billy’s amusement.

“Maybe not before, but I mean, you’ve never tried it, so how do you know for sure? You might be,” Billy shrugged again, seeing Max approaching over Steve’s shoulder as he started to freak out a little more. “Look, I’m just fuckin’ with you Harrington, but why don’t you meet me at skull rock tonight, and maybe you'll figure it out? 11:00 sharp. Now get outta here, I gotta take my sister home.”

Steve flinched harshly as Max walked up next to him, as if he was woken from a trance, and after giving her a half-hearted smile as she got in the car, he walked away. 

“I thought we said you were gonna stay away from my friends,” Max glared as she made herself comfortable in the passenger’s seat.

“Hey, don’t bust my balls, he came up to me, alright? And besides, how do you know we haven’t made up and become best friends?” Billy said, not even letting it bother him.

“Like that would ever happen,” Max rolled her eyes.

“You’d be surprised, shitbird. Now shut up and let me drive.”

Billy snuck out that evening as soon as he heard his dad snoring in his room, sometime around 10:45. He had spent the time leading up to that styling his hair and making sure he looked as good as he could, and just to be safe, he put on more of his mix he had made, taking it with him once done. He slipped out his window with ease and got in his car, making sure not to rev the engine so as not to alert anyone of him leaving. Once he was out of Cherry Lane though, all bets were off. He sped down the streets of Hawkins like a madman, and arrived at the edge of the woods in just a few minutes, turning off his car and walking into them towards the meeting place. 

When he finally found it, he checked his watch, seeing that it was now 11:02, and Steve was nowhere to be found. He started fidgeting around when he checked his watch six minutes later and he still wasn’t there, but finally, he heard something moving through the brush a few feet away, and through the trees, he finally appeared. 

“I was starting to think you might not make it,” Billy said, smiling as the anxious energy left his body and he was able to turn on the charm.

“I almost didn’t, but then I felt like if I didn’t come, I might go crazy. Something was drawing me here,” Steve said, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

“What do you think it was?” Billy asked, slinking a little closer to Steve.

“I don’t know, I just know it’s there.”

“I know what it was. Curiosity. You want to know if there was any truth to what I said earlier, don’t you?” Billy leaned against the boulder behind him, crossing his arms, “I think I can help with that.”

“How?” Steve asked, his head cocking like a little dog. It was adorable.

“Kiss me,” Billy replied, leaning forward into Steve’s face, his smile bigger than ever.

“Wh- excuse me, what?” Steve said, taking a step back, shaking his head and crossing his arms, too.

“You heard me,” Billy leaned back again, unphased.

“I-I…” Steve swallowed, looking both panicked and intrigued.

“Aww, shy, pretty boy?” Billy asked, then jerked his head to the side, “C’mere.”

There was a tense second where nothing happened. Steve stared at Billy. Billy stared back. And then Steve started to move. He walked over to Billy, his hands shaking, and when he found Billy was still only standing there looking at him, he leaned in closer.

Billy met him halfway, still smiling a little as finally, their lips touched, and a bolt of lightning shot through both of them. Billy’s hands settled on Steve’s face and neck as he started to relax, and Steve’s went to Billy’s waist, still shaking a little. After a few more seconds it ended, and the two stayed close as they parted, just enough that Steve felt the little chuckle Billy let out more than he heard it. 

“How was that?” Billy asked, putting one of his hands in his pocket.

“I… I don’t know,” Steve mumbled, “I-I mean, good, but I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Well then, why don’t we try it again?” Billy asked, guiding Steve back in before he could even think of an answer. Their eyes fell closed again, and this time, Billy took it a step further, using his tongue to slowly pry Steve’s mouth open, and as soon as it was, diving inside to get a real taste of him. Steve made a noise in the back of his throat, so Billy kept going, and took his other hand from his face to open the bottle he’d kept hidden in his pocket. Once it was open, he got a little bit onto his fingers, then closed the bottle back up, and slipped it away again. He then returned his hands to Steve’s face, brushing the damp tips of his fingers across his cheeks as he did, and heard Steve sigh as he began to relax even more.

“What did you think that time?” Billy asked as they parted again, moving back in to kiss Steve’s neck as he answered.

“I think,” he swallowed, and Billy felt it against his lips, “I liked it. I don’t know wh-what that means yet, but I kinda… I kinda don’t want it to stop a-after tonight. I just wanna do it again and again and again.”

“I think I can make that happen,” Billy said between kisses, but then he stopped so he could look Steve in the eyes. “Or,” he said, “We can take it a step further. How does that sound?”

“Wh-what would that entail?” Steve asked, still a little nervous, but Billy wasn’t fooled. He was watching as Steve’s pupils grew, and he knew that he had him, hook, line and sinker.

“Well, I could suck you off, would you like that?” He asked, leaning close to whisper it in his ear, and lightly biting it after. He felt Steve shudder, and he chuckled lightly when he nodded quickly.

“Alright, baby, you just leave it to me,” Billy said, his hands tracing down his body to his belt buckle, “I’ll make you see God.”

Steve shuddered again as Billy fell to his knees in front of him, practically tearing his jeans open and down his thighs until he was met with the sight of his dick, already half hard and starting to leak. He took it in hand and shuffled a little closer, stopping just for a second to glance up at Steve and make sure he was alright. He nodded, so Billy continued, holding eye contact as he began to kiss at the head, not wanting to take too much too fast, for both their sakes. And besides, he wanted to savor this, the first time he’d ever gotten a taste of Steve. 

He watched as his eye fluttered gently as he wrapped his lips around his cock, taking his time to draw more of him in and pleasure him with his tongue. He was gorgeous like this, even more so than usual, and it was driving Billy mad. 

“Oh, God, Billy…” Steve sighed, the shake in his hands returning as he placed one on Billy’s shoulder, “Please. More. Please.”

“You got it, baby,” Billy said, using his hand as he stopped to speak, “Anything you want in the whole wide world, you just ask and I’ll give it to you, understand? Anything you want.”

“I just want you,” Steve whispered.

“And baby, you got me.”

Billy stopped talking, deciding to put his mouth to better use and continue sucking Steve off, pulling out every trick he knew to make this as good for Steve as he possibly could. He had to. He didn’t want Steve to be coming back to him just because of the spell. He wanted him to want him regardless of any kind of magic he could do.

He could tell when Steve was getting close by the way he was breathing, and by the way he started spouting gibberish in an attempt to warn him. But Billy didn’t pull away and just finish him off with his hand. Instead, he worked harder with his tongue and throat, until Steve cried out as he came straight down it. Billy took it gladly, relishing the taste of him until there was none left, and Steve began to squirm in discomfort. Only then did Billy pull off, and after wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he smiled and stood back up.

“How was that, princess?” He asked, tossing his arms over Steve’s shoulders and holding his wrist with his hand. He wanted to keep Steve as close to him as possible, but he didn’t want to seem desperate.

“Amazing,” Steve replied, a dopey, half-drunk looking smile on his face as he pulled Billy closer, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I can’t believe I never thought about you this way before. You’re beautiful, you’re nicer than I thought, and you can give head like nobody’s business. You’re perfect.”

“Only for you, baby, only for you,” Billy said, kissing him gently. 

“So, what now?” Steve asked, his eyes bright and dreamy as he gazed into Billy's. 

“Well, you could kiss me some more. Or,” Billy paused, wiggling his eyebrows before getting close again and whispering in Steve's ear, “I could bend you over that log over there, eat you out until you cry and fuck you until you forget your own name.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as a fiery blush spread over his whole body, and he almost gave himself whiplash with how hard he nodded. Billy grinned as he found his hand and took it, stepping back again and using it to pull Steve over to the log a few feet away. Steve’s pants were still undone, so he didn’t have to worry about taking the time to get them down. Instead, he gently pushed him over the log, making sure he was supported enough and that he was comfortable, still clasping his hand. Once Steve was in the position he wanted him, he raised their joined hands to his mouth and licked the back of Steve’s, then he dropped it. Steve shivered as he now used both of his hands to keep himself steady, and Billy laughed a little as he knelt down behind the other boy, pulling his jeans and underwear down farther and cupping his ass. He felt the jolt of shock that went through Steve as he touched him, and waited until he relaxed again to spread him open, exposing his hole to the cool night air and causing him to shiver again.

“You ready for me, baby?” Billy asked, and from the way Steve breathed out a desperate, “Yes, please,” Billy knew that this was it. Spell or no spell, Steve was going to be his forever. He would make absolutely sure of that. And the first step would be to show him just how fucking fantastic he could make him feel.

He didn’t wait any longer, instead he dove straight in and started to tease him with his tongue, dragging it in one long stroke all the way from his perineum to the base of his spine, then going back in and lapping at his hole. He alternated between that and leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses all over, sometimes adding in a bit of teeth to make him squirm. Steve was nearly screaming with pleasure as Billy refused to give him a break for even a second, the noises only encouraging him to do more. Soon enough he started to add his fingers into the mix, working up as much spit as he could and letting it dribble onto Steve’s hole to help ease the way for one of them to start pushing in. 

Steve gasped as he felt the intrusion, sighing heavily as he tried to ease his body into taking it. It took him a few tries to be fully relaxed, but as soon as he was, Billy was spitting on him again and adding a second finger, wiggling them inside him to loosen him up. He cried out as tears leapt into his eyes, and he forced himself to calm down and focus on Billy’s tongue, which was still lavishing him wherever it could reach around his fingers. And once again, just as he got ahold of himself, Billy was pushing him to his limits, starting to work in a third finger, but unable to get it very far with how tense Steve was.

“Billy, baby… It’s, ah, it’s too… too much,” Steve whimpered, shaking his head as Billy kept pushing forward, even though he didn’t get very far. 

“If this is too much, how do you expect to take my dick, huh? C’mon, sweetheart, you can take it,” Billy said, wiggling his fingers some more and making Steve gasp. “Just relax, baby. Focus on my mouth, alright? You can take it.”

Steve was going to protest again, but before he could get a word out, he felt wet heat surrounding his balls, and his brain went dead. He felt like a rag doll as he started to slump over from the pleasure of it, and he felt Billy humming in satisfaction as his body went pliant enough for him to finally work in his ring finger. He pumped all three of them in and out of Steve like it was his only mission in life, still sucking on his balls like they were the sweetest candy he’d ever tasted, and it was taking everything Steve had to keep his composure. His dick was harder than it had ever been before, and he knew he was drooling, his mouth seemingly unable to close. His vision was getting blurry with the amount of tears building up in them, and every time he blinked, more of them started streaming down his face, coupling perfectly with the desperate little cries he was letting out as he got closer and closer to bursting.

“That’s it, baby, let it out, let me hear you,” Billy said, accentuating it with a bite to his inner thigh. “You ready for me to fuck you?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, please,” Steve whined between panting breaths, swallowing thickly to try and rewet his throat, but it was futile. 

“Okay then, c’mere,” Billy said, standing and removing his fingers from Steve’s hole. He wiped them on his jeans and held his hand out to him, smiling as he took it and tried to stand up, too. Billy had to take most of his weight before he was able to steady himself, and even then he stumbled as he tried to follow where Billy was leading him.

“I thought… you said… you were gonna…” Steve tried to get out as he caught his breath, but Billy just smiled as he led him back over to the rock.

“I was, but the angle was too awkward, so I had a better idea,” he said, leaning Steve up against the rock as soon as they got there. “Now, get at least one of your legs fully out of your pants, baby.”

“O-okay,” Steve said, hurrying to do as he was told and almost causing himself to stumble over, but he caught himself before he face planted in the dirt. He finally got one of his legs free and then straightened up, and he couldn’t help the blushing grin that came to his face as he saw Billy. His belt and jeans were both undone, and, of course, he didn’t have any underwear on, so Steve could see the little patch of curly blonde hair leading down to where the zipper stopped. Billy saw him looking and decided for the moment to stop there, and he moved in closer to crowd Steve against the boulder behind him, kissing him hard and reaching behind him to squeeze his ass. Steve greedily accepted everything Billy was giving to him, and was giving it back just as much. He felt like he could predict every move Billy was going to make, and to his credit, he was actually pretty good at guessing what was going to come next. Still, he never expected that the firm grip Billy had on his thighs was going to lead him to picking him up and holding him off the ground. He let out a surprised shriek when it happened, which only made Billy laugh, and once he realized that Billy had no intention of dropping him, he laughed too. 

“You’re alright, baby, I got you,” Billy said, kissing Steve’s cheek, neck and collarbone as he held him against the rock.

“I know, I was just surprised,” Steve said, hooking his arms around Billy’s neck and his ankles behind his back. “I’ve never been on the receiving end of this before, so I wasn’t expecting it.”

“That’s okay, baby. Once you get a taste of it, though, I guarantee you’ll never want to go back,” Billy teased, licking a stripe from Steve’s collarbone to his jaw as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“You’re pretty confident about that,” Steve teased right back, “Why don’t you prove it?”

“Take my dick outta my jeans and I will. I’d have done it already, but I already got my hands full,” Billy said, and grinned as he felt Steve’s hands leave his neck to do as he’d said. It was a tad awkward with the position, but it still didn’t take long for Steve to get his dick out, and Billy smiled.

“Alright, baby, now listen, you’re gonna have to help me out here,” he said, “Unhook your ankles and help me get your legs over my shoulders.”

Steve nodded and once again did as he was told, helping Billy to maneuver his body until his legs were hooked over his shoulders, and once they were, Billy was once again able to use his arms. With one hand, he reached up and grabbed Steve by the hair, dragging him into a filthy kiss, and with the other, he was able to get out the little tube of lube he brought with him, opening it and slicking himself up with it before guiding his cock to Steve’s hole. Without warning, he snapped his hips up, entering him easily and making him break the kiss to cry out.

“Billy, fuck!” He moaned, his back arching off of the rock behind him as his hands tried to grip onto it, his knuckles going white.

“See, what’d I tell you, princess?” Billy said, licking his lips seductively as he continued to fuck him relentlessly. “You’re never gonna want to go back now, are you? It’ll never feel quite the same after this, will it? You’re gonna be ruined for anyone else and you’ll come back to me every time because this is what you need. And nobody will ever be able to give it to you like I can.”

Steve couldn’t even try to form an answer, every response he thought of being cut off by another rough thrust that had him forgetting what words even were. He had never felt this good before, not by himself and not with anyone else. There was something different about Billy that made every touch, every kiss, every sound feel amplified by a thousand, and Steve knew he’d been right. It was further confirmed when Billy dragged him into one last filthy kiss and, with one more hard thrust, came hard inside him. He was ruined for anyone else after this.

Steve couldn’t see straight as Billy gently pulled him closer, effectively bending him in half as he turned them both around and somehow managed to get them sitting on the ground. He gently pulled out of Steve with a soft groan before helping him to sit more comfortably, removing his legs from his shoulders and turning him around so he could lean back and relax on his lap. Steve could hardly feel his legs, they were partly numb and partly felt like Jell-O, but either way, he didn’t have a hope of standing up on his own any time soon. He could feel Billy’s come slowly dripping out of him, and his own come cooling off in the patches they made on his shirt. It made him shiver, but then he felt something being draped over him, and when he cracked his tired eyes open, he saw that it was Billy’s jacket.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, a silly, sleepy little smile on his face as he turned to kiss Billy’s jaw. “You’re sweet.”

“Anytime,” Billy replied, kissing back softly before starting to play with Steve’s hair. “So, after everything, did you figure out what you want, princess?”

“I think so,” Steve yawned, “I know I enjoyed being with you, and I know I wouldn’t mind doing it again. I guess you were right, I just didn’t want to think about it. Being queer could get you killed in this town, so I guess I was just trying to deny it, I don’t know.”

“I know it’s scary to realize things like that, but whether you like one or the other or even both, whoever you are, what I said earlier still stands. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I don’t care what the consequences are, I’ll make it happen. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and happy, no matter what. Understand?”

Steve hummed in lieu of a real response, but Billy didn’t mind. He was kind of exhausted, too, but he didn’t want to fall asleep just yet. He let Steve, though, and for a while, he just watched him sleep. Even like this he was gorgeous, and it filled Billy up with such an intense warmth that he felt he would burst like a star, because he finally had him. Steve was finally his. And he wasn’t planning on letting him go any time soon.

[gotafewtricks]

dear my new fav kiri writer,

if you saw the le sserafim collab (kiri's hot, fite me), you know that romance dynamic where it's like idol x fan but the idol is the fan's bff and the fan (who has big crush on idol to the point they buy ONLY merch of them) has no clue said idol is their friend (and the idol's real struggle of "do i tell them i'm idol or i just watch them be an absolute dork at simping me") lmao

if you can pull it out of a hat, i'll love that lol

★ I'm (maybe) fearless

Really? I'm pretty honoured. I wrote like, two sentences with her and you already like my interpretation of Kiriko? Honoured <33 Anyways, YES, mhm—I have seen that! I've been meaning to play around with this dynamic, anyways :3

I could see Kiriko as a popular singer and dancer; though, I could also see her as a YouTube personality as well. I'll settle with a singing Kiri for now :3

As a vocalist, Kiriko had to work her way up to the top. It was rather difficult having to hide all of that at first; knowing damn well how it would affect her life outside of the showbiz. Scheduling was something she'd worry herself to death over; knowing that her easygoing personality wouldn't fair well with having to keep up with dates, knowing the promises she's made to her friends back home, and her fans.

Being a close friend of Kiriko was such a rewarding experience—you knew how determined she was at her job, with clearing out the yakuza scum of Kanezaka. You'd worry about her often, with how it may even take her a few days, to weeks, or even a month to get back in touch with you. You understood that those were times where she was busy with the Hashimoto; as it wasn't just tiring, exhuasting local work. She has explained to you about their, the Hashimoto's, extensive relations with other criminal organizations around Japan.

Though, what you didn't understand, was that Kiriko wasn't just occupied with beating up some petty criminals in her absence.

As much as she hates to lie, she knows that she cannot be visible as a pop star. Not only she would become a much bigger target, she already keeps her work more on the downlow with the Hashimoto—and, even then, she is recognized as one of the heroines of Kanezaka. Alongside with the reputation of her mom being a formidable foe with the blade, and her dad being a known weapons-maker... it makes the girl's head hurt having to process what'll happen.

You were a huge fan of Kiriko's idol persona—really, really huge. Photocards upon photocards would be decorated with cute stickers, slid inside holographic heart sleeves to add to your ever-more growing collection. It'd embarrass you if you actually tallied the amount of money you've spent.

You were there at the beginning of her career, finding her randomly by chance whilst refreshing your recommended feed. Taking a listen to a few songs she was cast in, and you were automatically hooked. Either it was just her energy, voice, looks... everything about her was just something, someone rather, that you could find some ultimate comfort it.

Although, you were not on the verge of it being a disturbing obsession—as you were rather worried about your favourite idol. You'd understand if she had to post something about taking a brief hiatus, as you'd imagine yourself being so, so exhausted being in such a position. There was just something so relatable with her that makes you connect all the better to her—she just really felt real.

Often times, many people would put up a fake smile; a façade, in front of fans that only like them because of a shared attribute. Either just appearance or that "Ah, yeah, you sound good!" aesthetic, you were glad that you saw the girl on stage and acting like herself. There was such an energy would would always be commented on in interviews that the idol would have, and you always wondered how she was always so energetic.

Maybe she was an incredible actor, you'd muse.

The thing you hated most, though, was not being able to watch any of the videos as soon as they'd drop. You knew to not disturb Kiriko by messaging her during important missions, but you can't help but send her some screencaps of some really adorable pictures of your favourite idol, now, can you? Kiriko would laugh whenever you'd complain about how she always has to go out whenever there were tours going on.

Kiriko, at first, would be extremely flattered. She does have a crush on you, and has had one for a while, but she didn't want to ever complicate things.

Seeing you gush about her idol career, and how you related so much to this celebrity—and how you loved literally everything about her, Kiriko couldn't help but feel just oh-so flustered over... "Heh, wow... my crush likes me?"

There was something that Kiriko did take notice of, and it was with how you phrased everything that she did appreciate. Not just the compliments, and even if you did just praise and praise her vocal talent, perfomances, and looks—there was something that Kiriko did enjoy listening about, and it was how you really felt, in comparison. Because, all-in-all, Kiriko loves her fans. Every single one of them.

If she could sign autographs all day, if she could talk to everyone at a meet-and-greet, if she could spend hours and hours rambling at panels and conventions—oh, she would. She adores how she was able to build up such a community, and how it thrives off of interaction. Not just from her, but how everyone else is just so supportive. It really makes her feel like she is doing so much more for not only just the town of Kanezaka, and not just for Japan—but for the countless, countless others out there in the world.

There was something special, though, with being best friends with a fan.

You'd talk to her about a new single release, talking about what your interpretation of the song was. You could easily tell that it was experimental, as the lyrics were not written by her herself—rather, someone else. Her phrasing would have more wordplay—her cadence would've been more casual and loose, to reflect on her more teasing, playful nature she likes to exhibit on-stage. You'd explain, with stars in your eyes, about all of those little details you've noticed.

Kiriko would nod along, affirmingly so. It's not like she's had to be in the studio, recording for hours and hours at a time to get the perfect take—having the mixers work at the vocals and instrumentals.

It took Kiriko a long while to think about this, but she finally did come up with a way to express her view, and to finally fess up to you.

Kiriko wasn't one to lie, as it made her feel dirty. Obviously, she does have a trouble-making stream to her name—running around the streets of her hometown whilst trying to get to the bakery first-thing was something she'd always get motherly chided for. As with her career, she felt like she really had to tell someone. It wasn't illegal for her to be an influencer, but it felt like she was lying to her best friend—lying to you.

She didn't know how you'd react. There was a surprising amount of comfort she did feel whenever you'd talk about her idol persona, considering you didn't blindly just love the music and her looks—rather, her personality, and how real and tangible she felt. How she was able to make such a committed, compelling fanbase that you were proud to be apart of, and to contribute to it. With everyone else having nothing but praise for the young rising star, Kiriko would be a bit scared at the fact of someone only liking her just due to a shallow reputation.

Though, over the course of this life, she felt both fulfilled in not only receiving the love of many others; but giving it all back in her work. Either with her songs, or some pest (Hashimoto) control, she's in debt to all of her fans. She really couldn't thank them enough.

As her heart drew heavy, the worries increasing everyday, she just might as well spit it out. With your concluded reasoning, Kiriko thought that you'd understand why she had to keep it a secret—obviously—and not go around telling anyone else. She knows about the industry, and how celebs with lovers are treated, so she just needs to be careful—teetering across those rules.

Whilst the two of you were together out at night, hanging out behind the arcade—per usual—you offered Kiriko one of your earbuds. It was playing one of her songs, and you were bopping your head to the rhythm; whispering the lyrics to yourself.

"Do you want to know something?" Kiriko would then ask, and she immediately felt her heart thump. Just being close to you already makes her feel so, so anxious; it felt as if she wasn't a pop star, and wasn't an expertly-trained ninja—just a little schoolgirl again.

With a hum, you'd turn your attention to her, adjusting your position on the ground to be more comfortable. With your legs in the right spot, you then settled down. "Yes? I'm sorry, this song is so good."

With a laugh, Kiriko would reassure you that it's okay. God, how she loved just seeing you so happy, and with how she was able to leave such a positive imprint on you with her hard work—it felt as if you were her world. Her everything.

"Eh, don't worry." Kiriko's little chuckle was contagious, as you smiled as she gestured her hand towards you. "There's something really funny about this track, actually. I'd be surprised if you didn't already know it; you nerd."

You two then continued on with your banter, and then you listened to what Kiriko had to say about the song. After a moment, the chorus came on, and then Kiriko started to explain her thoughts out—her voice in that tender tone, reserved for the ones closest to her.

"The lyrics were actually written for someone in particular. There's a theory floating around that it's for this idol, or for this other person but..." She'd then laugh, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Pay more attention to the words. You're smart; you can figure it out."

The chorus was then explaining about the singer's love for their best friend, and with how everything matched up so perfectly—the vocalist musing about past childhood memories, talking about certain interests, and explaining their want to fully express yourself... you blushed. You looked up at Kiriko, she was wearing a smirk, and then down at your phone at the song currently being played. You didn't want to just assume it was you, as you didn't want to embarrass yourself, but-

"I dunno if you know their name or not, but they do look awfully a lot like you. Maybe I should make the two of you meet, huh?"

[scoobydoodean]

Adding onto the "John’s emotional outpourings" thought train:

I think it’s so interesting that in his final speech to Dean, not only does he applaud Dean for assuming the parentified and spousified role that he himself forced on him ("You took care of Sammy and you took care of me"), he also specifically praises Dean’s obedience and lack of self-advocacy in the matter ("You did that, and you didn't complain. Not once.")

Hearing John acknowledge everything Dean’s sacrificed for their family no doubt meant a lot to him, but I actually think it was very detrimental to his self-worth in the long run. It further cements the idea that Dean’s value is intrinsically tied to how useful he is to others, to how much shit he’s willing to take from loved ones without a word of protest, and to how much of himself he can give away. By the end of the season se see this idea culminate in him selling his soul ("At least this way, it’s like my life could mean something."), which is really just the natural extension of how his life and his body have always been treated as bargaining chips.

This is an interesting interpretation, Anon—not one I aim to take issue with, but since it's in my inbox, I'll share where my interpretation differs. It might be more in the sense of John's intentions.

I think there's a reason John opens with and mainly gives an apology—for being an empty shell—for Dean having to fill his shoes—and the majority of his speech being an apology and given within the context that John himself failed and that Dean had to fill his shoes biases me against interpreting the closing lines where he praises Dean's actions as him meaning to say that's where Dean's inherent worth lies.

JOHN You know, when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt, and after what I'd seen, I'd be, I'd be wrecked. And you, you'd come up to me and you, you'd put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in the eye and you'd... You'd say "It's okay, Dad" Dean, I'm sorry. DEAN What? JOHN You shouldn't have had to say that to me, I should have been saying that to you. You know, I put, I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast.

To me, John is saying the opposite of that Dean's worth lies in being the eternal care taker. It's him saying that Dean deserved to be protected and cherished and comforted, and John utterly failed, and instead Dean had to pick up his slack—carry his dead weight—and that wasn't fair. He finishes with,

You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that, and you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know that I am so proud of you.

I take this not as John necessarily praising that Dean didn't complain? I take it as an acknowledgment that Dean is an actual person. The same way John knew Dean wanted a home despite Dean insisting differently to us and Sam in various season 1 episodes, John understands that what Dean does and what Dean feels are different things. Dean is not the mindless John robot Sam framed Dean as in 1.10. There's a reason Dr. Ellicot wanted to make Dean better in 1.10 and tried to ghost-lobotomize him (because Dean was angry—because he resented his family [1.06]) but there's also a reason Dean was able to resist his ghost-lobotomy long enough to burn Ellicot's bones.

In regards to being proud of Dean—I mentioned that I think John focuses on this because he saw what tipped Dean off that he was possessed by Azazel in 1.22. But supplying further context here—1.21-1.22 are about Sam and John both fighting to be the first one to die for revenge... and being willing to sacrifice each other. In 1.22, as they are about to enter the building where John is located, Sam insists that Dean not bring The Colt with them. He doesn't want to waste a bullet for John. Sam insists this is what John would want, and Dean says he doesn't give a damn what John wants. Dean sneaks the gun in anyway, and kills a demon who's beating Sam to death with it. That's what leads to the conversation about the the wasted bullet with Azazel!John.

Dean: You’re not mad? John: For what? Dean: Using a bullet. John: Mad? I’m proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you – you watch out for this family. You always have.

It's chilling that Azazel is the one to praise Dean, isn't it? And it's further chilling that that's what tips Dean off that this is not his dad.

Dean knows this isn't John specifically because John would not appreciate what Dean did for their family this whole episode—what Dean has always done in fact: keep their family afloat and keep them all alive while John was busy being stuck in his own head, burning with rage and vengeance... and even throwing blame at Dean. Dean got yelled at by Sam before he brought the gun in for wanting to prioritize John's safety over revenge, and Dean was ready to get yelled at by John too for prioritizing Sam over revenge. John would be too blinded by vengeance to notice or even give a damn that Dean saved Sam's life. John would tear Dean a new one for being the only rational person in the room—the only person who hasn't been swallowed whole by bloodlust to the point of not giving a damn about the rest of the family... and in a less extreme sense, this is how it has always been. Dean has always been unappreciated. So John shows a little goddamn appreciation for the fact that Dean kept them afloat— for the first time ever. Then pointedly—John's last act is to finally prioritize Dean's safety specifically over his revenge. He abandons the revenge quest that just one episode meant more than Dean or Sam's lives, and hands The Colt over to his mortal enemy to save his son. He chooses love for Dean over vengeance.

What sullies John's speech—what poisons it for Dean—is what John does right after. And this is what I meant about John "poisoning the well". John apologizes for putting everything on Dean's shoulders right before... leaving Dean with the bag for the rest of eternity. It isn't like John's going on vacation—he's going to Hell. But he still permanently makes Sam Dean's responsibility. He doesn't even tell Sam what's going on—he treats Sam like a child and makes Dean his permanent guardian, permanently foisting his parental obligations on his parentified son right after apologizing for allowing him to become parentified, and that ruins John's speech.

I think Dean selling his soul has several interconnected motivations, and absolutely—a gigantic one is Dean's parentification and the belief that he is disposable. Dean feeling disposable and like sacrificing for his family is all he's good for was never going to be solved by one conversation, but John's one conversation is also ruined, and arguably just makes Dean more resentful because John pushes at this scabbed over wound for Dean, making it raw, and instead of wrapping a bandage around it, he ultimately pushes his thumb in. However, also leading into Dean's demon deal is 1) Dean loves his brother. 2) Dean being made to feel responsible for Sam specifically for his entire life 3) Dean's believes he came back wrong and him being alive is unnatural (it's left a hole in his chest—he feels unbalanced—angry—off—almost monstrous) and sacrificing himself will restore the natural order and help him escape this looming monstrosity. 4) Dean is trying to escape John and Sam's expectations and demands—that he fulfill John's dying wish and make himself responsible for Sam by saving or killing him. In a disturbing way, it's how Dean is liberated.

By making the demon deal, Dean has fulfilled "saving Sam" through an very unintended loophole, and avoided "kill Sam"—a mandate Dean was perpetually haunted by all of season 2—that Sam was determined to enforce at every opportunity while knowing it was what made Dean want to die! Being responsible for the whole rest of Sam's life makes Dean tired—it's why he says he can't handle the weight on his shoulders—he can't handle the pressure and the expectations that he chain himself to Sam's destiny for eternity. He's tired. He just wants to escape... and he initially sees his demon deal as a light at the end of the tunnel—as a way to get away. It makes him feel good for the first time in a long time (3.01)... because he is freed of the burden of his family's expectations and demands. When Dean starts to explore why he doesn't care that he's dying... that's where he confronts his parentification and objectification.

[anyasathenaeum]

omg thank you !!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺 you make write about "Vash & Wolfwood his wife didn't know she pregnant" the write beyond my expectations its cute and silly both of them.

😂😂

oh and some one request about vash bonding with the kiddos. can u make version about please wolfwood how big daddy girl he is and protective to his litter 🥺🥺 ?

once again thank you for you wrote it !! i love you write (really) 🥺❤️

A/N: Absolutely I can! I saw another lovely person request the same idea so they're both through this! Some girl dad Wolfwood headcanons coming up! Also sorry it's been a little bit between postings - my life is gently crazy atm

Warnings: AFAB!reader in this one, continuation/extension of previous request

So, as per these headcanons, I can absolutely see Wolfwood being a girl dad to twin girls

He would absolutely pass out during their birth, but he also becomes smitten by them the moment that they're placed in his arms - the two little girls who, in an instant, become the most important thing in his life (asides from and in addition to you)

Wolfwood would be the kind of dad who would outwardly seem cool, calm and collected, always laughing or not taking things super seriously, but inwardly? Man is PANICKING.

It's obvious from the time your little girls are babies - the sweat on Wolfwood's face as he holds them close to him, rocking them so gently as if he's afraid they'd shatter if he moved too quickly too suddenly gives him away

As does the split second of panic that crosses his face whenever one of the girls hits themselves or gets hurt or begins to wail - man is panicking internally and lowkey overthinking things until whichever of his baby girls got hurt is back up on her little chubby toddler legs and smiling as if nothing happened

Sometimes, Wolfwood ends up talking softly to both girls, telling them stories in the dead of night when he's woken up from his own nightmares and can't sleep - it calms his heart and soothes his soul in a way nothing else does

He would never admit to this, of course, so the only way you know this is because one time, you woke up in the middle of the night and Wolfwood wasn't next to you. So, you went to check on the girls, and sure enough, Wolfwood was there, softly speaking to his babies as he gently stroked their cheeks as they slept happily in their cribs, lulled by their dad's voice

You never let Wolfwood know that you knew he did that, granting him that little private moment of peace

As the girls grow older, Wolfwood would happily banter with his girls - they'd be as feisty and more quick-witted than the two of you put together, always getting into some kind of mischief

Wolfwood would be the grumpy kind of dad who his daughters would absolutely try to annoy and tease and poke fun at, even from the time they're toddlers

Like he'd be out on the porch, smoking his cigarette, only for him to hear giggling from around the corner and he sees both of his little girls pretending to smoke too with a piece of chalk or something as the cigarette, just like their dad

"Hey, hey! Cut that out, (Y/N) will skin me if they see you two doing that! You tryna get me killed?!"

He tries to remain calm and collected as he says that, but the girls can easily see through his mask and know dad's panicking and they scurry off, giggling mischievously

Wolfwood's love and protectiveness over his girls is evident to anybody who witnesses him interacting with them

Especially as the twins get older - the glare that Wolfwood would send to anybody who dared get even a little too close to one or both of his girls would be withering

You and Wolfwood both would teach your baby girls to be absolutely lethal if it came down to it - they'd be trained to defend themselves and can absolutely hold themselves in a fight

I feel like the twins would inherit their dad's ability to appear calm and collected even when bad things are going down, and they definitely inherited his smile

It's a bit uncanny when all three of them, Wolfwood and both girls, can hit you with the same smirk (definitely makes you wanna pull your hair out sometimes)

Wolfwood would be so proud of his girls, but he's just a bit too proud himself to show it sometimes (you've definitely caught him getting teary-eyed over something your girls did, only for him to cough and brush you off)

"I'm not crying, the hell you talkin' 'bout, sweetheart? Just got somethin' in my eye!"

Bottom line - Nicholas D. Wolfwood loves his girls more than anything, and would give anything to ensure they're happy, loved, and safe in a heartbeat

Taglist: @ryuukami4, @spacioussoul, @iceoblivious, @yuudofu

[pyreemo]

I NEED TO VENT

Ok, so, I need to talk and ask for advice but so far this is the only place I can do it.

My mother is driving me insane. She treats me like an extension of herself and if I don't do anything to her standards or something of the sort, she lectures me about how she raised me to be good worker and shit. WOMAN, ALL YOU DID WAS GIVE ME INSECURITIES!!!! (i.e. saying my essay on sharks back in homeschool sounded too smart to be me, while she sat on her ass playing games.)

And just an hour ago, she did it again and I have to get up early tomorrow; she talked at me till past midnight!

And, it's embarrassing to admit this, but I have a bit of an issue with picking at my skin when I get anxious. Mom HATES it and tonight, she saw that I had picked again and threatened to take my laptop and phone if she ever caught me doing it again. Not my fault I wasn't shown healthier coping mechanisms growing up.

At this point, when she treats me like this, I don't even cry or give a reaction, I give her the most neutral face imaginable.

Tonight, she also said that if I don't do better at work (to her standards) she was going to make me quit... I'm almost 20 years old and she said she was going to make me quit my JOBS. And before anyone says anything about my age and still living with my mom, for the record, rent these days is expensive.

Don't even get me started on the religious abuse she's subjected me to for the past 10 years.

I've only really talked with my dad about this but he doesn't give a fuck about what's going on. He's more interested in drinking beer and smoking pot. He lives with one of my aunts and he doesn't really talk to me, just gives a routine good morning and goodnight text then nothing.

I'm tired of having to hide who I am and who I want to be just to appease my mother, not to mention a father who doesn'tcare as long as he gets the freedom to get wasted.

If anyone can give me advice on how to handle this, I'd greatly appreciate it!

[iced-water]

I saw heretic. I loved it. My mom and I have been talking about it. I loved the cinematography. Hugh Grant was great and so were Sophie Thatcher and Chloe East.

If you want to read my more in depth and personal rambles they’re under the cut. :)

What fascinates me most is Mr Reed and how he’s in this position. Hugh Grant has given glimpses into the backstory he made when prepping for the movie. He sees Mr Reed as a lonely person who had few friends, a groovy professor who’s trying too hard to relate to his students, and someone who might’ve lost someone close to him. It feels like Mr Reed is a man who’s dealt maybe with a lot of grief and loss. The religion stuff is just an extension of him trying to gain a sense of control or just comfort. I’m pretty sure he vaguely states that something happened and he turned to religion for that comfort.

The more I’ve thought about the movie the more it felt similar to me and my journey as a trans person not as a religious person. I didn’t grow up religious my mom’s side was Unitarian and my dad’s family was Methodist I’m pretty sure, but going to church for them was more of a community thing. In the end my parents weren’t religious. The film is of course about religion I’d be remiss to ignore that, but when Mr Reed interrogates them about their religious beliefs it reminds me of that questioning of transness sometimes from other trans people. His one true religion being control reminds me that some trans people believe dysphoria is then only way you can be trans. It’s that deep seated need to feel like you’re right and everyone else is wrong even if it means hurting others to prove it.

The scenes of Barnes and Paxton stuck in his basement reminds me of the years I spent in believing I wasn’t trans enough. This belief that you’re wrong. Like Paxton I tried so hard to fall in line with this Mr Reed type thinking. Like when she wants to through the disbelief door to please him. In the end it didn’t matter which door it leads to the same place. I felt like I was making a choice but I wasn’t and in the end like Barnes and Paxton the two doors led to the same place. I’d chosen the nonbinary door but because of what I’d been told I ended up in the same place. Like them I didn’t actually get what I needed. I just found myself deeper and lost, desperate to pretend I was okay.

It was also a humanizing movie showing them in a way where none were right or wrong. The religious characters aren’t bad and neither is the atheist character. It’s about an exploration of belief and of faith. A great video by Kat Blaque explores the transphobia from trans people towards nonbinary people in particular. She talks about how she sympathizes with them and sees they’re struggling with their own dysphoria. In a way Mr Reed is the same if we take into account hugh grants insights about Mr Reed. He’s someone who’s struggling and hasn’t found a good outlet to deal with it properly.