#domestic animals make my heart hurt

[gojosconsort]

heheheeeeeeeee sex with husband!suguru cuz his pregnants wifes libido is literally over the roof with these raging hormones. she is like a dog in heat.

𓂃୨ৎ mdni. pregnancy, riding, creampie, breeding kink, body insecurity (related to pregnancy weight), multiple rounds of sex, aftercare, domestic fluff

the house is quiet, late afternoon sun filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the living room. suguru’s sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over the back, watching you shuffle around in nothing but his oversized shirt, the fabric stretching tight over your swollen belly. seven months pregnant, and you’re a vision—curves fuller, skin glowing, but there’s a restlessness in you, a hunger that’s been there since the hormones kicked into overdrive. you’re like a dog in heat, insatiable, craving him morning, noon, and night, and fuck, he loves it. loves you. loves the way you’re both animals now, rutting like you can’t get enough.

you catch his gaze, pausing mid-step, and he sees it—the glint in your eyes, the way your thighs press together. ���suguru,” you whine, voice thick with need, and he’s already hard, cock twitching in his sweats at the sound. you’ve fucked three times today already—once in the shower, water slicking your skin as he pinned you against the tiles; once in the kitchen, bending you over the counter; and now you want more. he grins, lazy and predatory, spreading his legs wider. “c’mere, baby,” he says, low and rough. “you’re gonna kill me, but i’m not complaining.”

you’re on him in seconds, straddling his lap, hands fumbling with his waistband. your belly presses against him, heavy and warm, and you hesitate, a flicker of shyness crossing your face. “i’m so… big,” you mutter, cheeks flushing, hands hovering over your stomach. “what if it’s too much?” suguru’s heart twists—he hates when you doubt yourself, especially now, when you’re carrying his kid, looking like a fucking goddess. he grabs your hips, firm, pulling you closer. “you’re perfect,” he growls, eyes dark with want. “and i want you so bad it hurts. let me fuck you ‘til you can’t think.”

his words light you up, shyness melting under the heat of his desire. you free his cock, thick and leaking, and he groans as you stroke him, your hands shaky with eagerness. “ride me,” he says, voice almost a command, but there’s pleading in it too. “i love watching you fuck yourself on me.” you whimper, nodding, but your movements are slower now, the weight of your belly making it harder. he sees the struggle and helps, hands guiding your hips, lifting you slightly as you line him up.

you sink down, slow at first, and fuck, it’s heaven. he’s deep, stretching you wide, and you both moan, raw and loud, as you take him fully. “so tight,” he rasps, hands roaming your thighs, your ass, gripping hard enough to bruise. “every time, baby, you feel like a dream.” you’re hesitant, trying to find your rhythm, but the hormones have you desperate, hips rocking before you can stop yourself. he helps, lifting you, letting you bounce, and the sight—god, the sight. your tits, fuller now, straining against his shirt; your belly, round and heavy; your face, flushed and needy, lips parted as you pant. he’s obsessed, wants to burn this into his brain forever.

“suguru,” you gasp, hands braced on his chest, nails digging in. “s’too much, but i need it.” you’re a mess, grinding down, chasing the friction, and he loves how wild you are, how you’re both reduced to this—animals, clawing at each other. he thrusts up, meeting your movements, and you cry out, head tipping back, the sound driving him feral. “that’s it,” he grunts, hands sliding to your ass, spanking you lightly, just enough to make you jolt. “fuck yourself on my cock, baby. cum. for me.”

you try, bouncing harder, but the weight slows you, frustration flashing in your eyes. he senses it, takes over, lifting you effortlessly, slamming you down in time with his thrusts. “let me help,” he murmurs, but there’s a mean edge to it, a teasing lilt. “can’t even ride me proper with that belly, huh? good thing i’m here to fuck you right.” you whimper, clinging to him, and he loves it—loves how you need him, how you give yourself over completely.

he’s deep, so deep, each thrust hitting that spot that makes you see stars, and you’re loud, moans spilling out, unfiltered. “more,” you beg, voice breaking, and he gives it, relentless, fucking up into you like he’s trying to plant another baby right now. “fuck, i want another one,” he groans, hands cupping your belly, imagining it swollen again, full of him. “gonna keep you like this, always.” you shudder, turned on by his words, by the idea, and he feels you clench, milking him, pulling him closer to the edge.

“suguru, i’m—” you don’t finish, orgasm hitting hard, ripping through you. you scream, body shaking, and he holds you through it, thrusting harder, chasing his own release. “fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he pants, watching you fall apart, loving how you drench him, how you’re his. he comes seconds later, spilling deep inside, groaning as he fills you, the thought of breeding you again making it that much sweeter. you collapse against him, panting, sweaty, and he wraps his arms around you, kissing your temple, your hair, your shoulder.

you’re still trembling, and he shifts, careful not to jostle you too much, laying you back on the couch. “one more?” you mumble, half-joking, but there’s that glint in your eye, the hormones still raging. he laughs, soft but wicked, already hard again at the thought. “you’re insatiable,” he says, climbing over you, but his touch is gentle now, hands stroking your sides, your belly. “gimme a minute, baby. let me take care of you first.”

he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen, helping you sip, wiping sweat from your brow with a cool cloth. “you feeling okay?” he asks, eyes searching yours, checking for any discomfort. your weight’s been on your mind lately, and he knows it, so he leans down, kissing your stomach, murmuring, “you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.” you smile, shy but warm, and he kisses you properly, slow and deep, pouring all his love into it.

“i love you like this,” he says, settling beside you, one hand resting on your belly, feeling the faint kick of your baby. “all needy, all mine. and fuck, when you ride me?” he grins, teasing, but there’s awe there too. “it’s the hottest thing. you’re perfect, baby.” you laugh, swatting him weakly, but you’re glowing, the insecurity fading under his praise.

“again soon?” you ask, voice soft, and he chuckles, pulling you close, already planning the next round. “soon as you want,” he promises, mean edge creeping back, but it’s wrapped in devotion. “i’m keeping you pregnant forever if it means this.” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, curling into him, and he knows—he’s never loved you more than now, wild and wanting, carrying his child, his life.

he stays there, holding you ‘til you drift off, his hand never leaving your belly, already dreaming of the next time he’ll have you bouncing on him, fucking like animals, building a family one hot night at a time.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn��t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[iannmin]

loser boyfriend san ♡ | 최산

pairing: domestic san! x reader (just san being an absolute sucker for his s/o <3), fluff (too much fluff)

a/n: realistic little moments of what san would be like because we all love san (if there are any spelling or punctuation errors, please ignore them)

୨୧ ‘ masterlist ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

loser boyfriend san who comes into your room in the middle of the night dragging his shiba plushie, eyes barely opened, just because you had a nightmare of being chased by a running broccoli in the middle of the streets. but he doesn't judge you, and holds you close in his arms, listening to all of your incoherent blabbering, hiccupping and sobbing, tears soaking a wet patch on his sandokki pajamas. after which, he tugs you to bed, lying beside you. the morning after, you wake up to san sprawled on the floor, hugging his shiba plushie close to his chest.

loser boyfriend san who takes pride in bringing you and your mom to the nail salon. and he absolutely does not care about the stares he receives when he links arms with you and your mom, striding in like a proud kitten. he waits patiently by your side, head resting on his arms, examining each and every procedure. "jagiya, doesn't it hurt? they are snipping off your skin!" san exclaims. oh,, such dumb boy. "san, it's my cuticles, i don't feel a thing" and when you and your mom attempt to explain to him what a french tip is, he smiles and nods sheepishly, even though you knew very well that nothing went into that boy's head <3

loser boyfriend san who claims to take taekwondo and gym classes to "man up" yet every time you fall sick he can't help but bawl his eyes out. "jagiya, it's okay, it's not your fault. it's just a little cough, that's all" you whisper while running your fingers through his hair. san, who had his head buried in between your breasts looks up at you, dragon eyes softened into swollen doe eyes. but your words didn't seem to help. he blabbers, tears beginning to well up in his eyes yet again "what if you die? what if you never wake up again because your cough killed you? what if-" "SAN. I'M NOT GOING TO DIE, IT'S JUST A COUGH"

loser boyfriend san who never fails to beat the housewife agenda by packing you cute lunchboxes when you had lessons to attend. every time you opened up the hello kitty themed lunchbox container, your friends would be in awe about how he managed to make the cute octopus shaped sausages, a heart-shaped omelette and fruits cut into different animals. once, you had forgotten your lunchbox at home and not even two hours into class, san showed up at your school running to you while frantically pointing at the lunchbox. "i can't leave my baby starving" is all he said to you before hurrying off to his school in a bike because he doesn't have a drivers license (...)

loser boyfriend san who travelled 8 hours to your parent's house without you knowing, just to ask for their acceptance to be your husband. "There is no one who provokes or quarrel with me. I can save her by fighting off bad guys because I have taken exercise hard and i can give her a lot of love because i grew up in a loving home. If you allow me, i will make her happy and comfortable all the time." and of course your parents were over the moon.

and that was the last time you had the rights to call him your loser boyfriend, because now he's your loser husband, and you still love him very much <3

[aestknowsbest]

It was apparently a running joke that Bernard gets his romantic advances and flirtations from media, what with the whole B necklace given to Tim. And I was thinking that romance novels and movies/shows were probably the only actual portrayals of romance that he was exposed to because his parents weren't exactly lovey dovey and quite frankly they seem like they don't want to be together at all.

This is something that I personally experience actually, so maybe it's a little bit of projection speaking here. But either way I wanted to think about Bernard seeing things in a romantic subtext in full for the first time and it jumpstarting him reading romance novel after romance novel to get a glimpse of what love is supposed to be, how others see it and show it. So now he has a very.... special way of communicating his adoration for people. Like the freak he is (the theatre electives didn't help any either, I'm sure.)

Bernard: "Do you ever think about how the curve of your neck and the dip of your collar bone is moulded perfectly for the sole intent of cradling the head of another?"

Tim: "Is this your way of asking for cuddles?"

Bernard, already making grabbing hands: "Absolutely. Come here."

--

Bernard: "How completely and utterly tragic it is that in life, death is a guarantee but love isn't."

Tim: "Sunbear, we are not taking that rabies-infested raccoon you found in a dumpster behind the bar home to my houseboat and your apartment doesn't allow animals. It was frothing at the mouth, Bernard."

Bernard: "My heart is broken, I will never love again. I bared my pried open ribs to you only to have it clawed at by your very hands."

Tim:

Bernard: (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)

Tim:

Tim: "... I'll look into domesticated options for you. It can run around the docks and you can train it to chase your dad."

Bernard: "So this is the warmth through the trees in the deepest darkest depths of winter that poets spoke of. To be known so intimately and cherished so dearly! I could faint."

Tim, rolling his eyes fondly: "If you do, I won't catch you."

Bernard: "Nevermind fuck you actually."

Tim: "I love you too "

--

Bernard, laying upside down on a sofa with Tim sitting on the floor next to his head and reading: "If cannibalism is synonymous with wanting everything of your lover to the point of consumption, the greed of taking in all they have to offer in willingness or not- even flesh and blood and scraps–"

Tim, typing away on his laptop: "Morbidly curious on where this is going."

Bernard: "Shh, let me finish! I was just wondering how you would taste. What would you prefer to be seasoned with? I'd personally like to be flavoured with honey-glaze, or maybe lemon pepper? Garlic?"

Tim: "Well since humans taste like swine, I supposed there'd need to be a complementary flavour profile. You'd be sweet, and I'd be something distinctly Umami, so I'd settle for smoked or roasted? With paprika."

Bernard: "I love you so much."

--

Bernard, spoken off-handedly while grocery shopping: "If ever you were to die, I'd harden your heart into stone with calcium and keep it in a case so that I carry you with me always."

Tim, staring longingly at a 30pk case of Monster: "And where is this coming from?"

Bernard: "My mom once read me Mary Shelly's biography as a bedtime story over the course of a week. She carried her husband's heart in her purse after his passing when he drowned in the ocean and his heart didn't turn to ash after his cremation so she snatched it out."

Tim: "Beatrice, frankly, scares me. And I love you too, darling."

--

Bernard, lying in bed next to Tim and staring at him:

Tim, sighing and rolling over to face him: "Honeybear?"

Bernard, fidgeting with a pillow: "Being near you is like being in a vacuum."

Tim: "That's a new one. Do you want to elaborate?"

Bernard: "It feels like I'm drowning in everything and nothing and like my chest is caving in. It makes me feel heavy and light, it feels like a contradiction. Loving you hurts in a way I'm not used to hurting. It doesn't feel like sacrifice. It makes me feel safe. I don't know if I'm saying this right, it's hard to articulate."

Tim, pulling Bernard close and pressing his nose into his hair: "I know, I understand, Bear. Intrinsically. I love you too."

[tarnishedsilverjewelry]

Hola! Me alegro de ver otro blog de M ^^

Can I request Bi-Han as a parent of a boy or girl around 4 or 5 years old who is very clingy? they don't leave his side and follow him wherever he goes. I love clingy kids, they're so adorable, and I definitely love reading domestic Bi-han.

What fatherhood does to a man

A/n: It’s getting harder and harder to NOT name these ‘The father That stepped up’ guys😭 Also, ah yes the grumpy old man and adopted sunshine child trope my BELOVED!!!! Also I see everyone saying Bi Han is mean and I’ve seen some ppl make him abusive WHICH IS WRONG!!!!! He is raised on tradition!!! Tomas says a line that says “his father’s honor” insisted on taking him in!! HES GRUFF AND A GENTLEMAN!!! HES ONLY MEAN TO HIS BROTHERS🗣️🗣️🗣️….sorry I got a little heated there💔 also also this is based on something saw here (I can’t remember who posted it, sorry) which was like what if Bi Han was pretending and didn’t actually betray his brothers so…yeah

Warnings: Mentioned death, blood and gore. Also angst. Bi Han actually has a heart guys‼️‼️‼️ so maybe ooc and also also no use of Y/n. The child has a name:3

Bi Han stared at the small girl in front of him

She and her family had unfortunately been caught in Lin Kuei battles, which led to the death of her parents by the hands of the enemy clan.

Bi Han stared at her, clutching her fathers cold hand with both of hers begging him to wake up saying that mommy wasn’t waking up either with a blood covered blanket and two stuffed animals crammed under her arms. One bright pink winged-cat plushy and a pastel pink and pastel purple unicorn with holographic tinsel in its mane

Bi Han sighed, and walked towards her, going in his knees to seem less scary. “Child, your parents will not wake..I…I’m sorry.” She turned to him, tears pouring out of her eyes and in a shakey voice asked “Why not?” Bi Han sucked in a breath.

He was a man most acquainted with seeing gore and death. Seeing bodies and blood with nothing new to him, but she couldn’t be older than 4. She’d lived in a secluded house with her parents and farm animals, and he doubted they would slaughter the animals in front of her.

“They…were caught in the cross fire. And unfortunately they have ascended to the heavens, and cannot bring you with them.” How he wished his brothers were here. He was raised to see emotions has weak as the future Grandmaster. “But they will watch over you and guide you as best they can from where they are.” He added quickly, remembering the line from the day Tomas was brought home

The girl nodded, and looked back at her parents corpses. “Oh. So I’m all alone?” Bi Han shook his head. “No, if you allow me to..I will take care of you. I know I will never replace your parents, but I will try to raise you fairly.” The blue ninja awkward opened his arms for her, and she collapsed in them sobbing.

Bi Han would normally be annoyed with the child, but now seeing a girl so young lose her whole life in one night by the enemy���he couldn’t even imagine being upset with her. Not when she got snot and tears on his uniform (not the shoulder he didn’t want to accidentally hurt her with the pointed shoulders), or when she asked him to gather what little remained of her old life.

When Tomas bright with him a small box of memories from his old family—he’d scoffed at it. Tomas would be a Lin Kuei now, he had a new family now. What did he need with memories from before?

But now? Now he understood. Bi Han helped her find what remained from her old room—A few pink floral pillow, 3 hand made quilts, a set of slightly burnt ice skating gear, and more stuffed animals—before finding a box large enough to fit what little was salvageable. When something caught his eye. On the floor was a fallen bookcase, and strewn across the floor were pictures of her parents.

Bi Han asked her if she’d like them, and she nodded trying to wiggle out of his grip. “No, there is glass on the floor. You don’t have shoes on, you could be hurt.” She nodded, sulking only slightly. Bi Han set the box down and helped her pick out 5 pictures of her parents, and 3 of all three of them. He even managed to find two fairly large photo albums that were fairly good condition to take too.

“Bi Han?!” Finally, his brothers were here. The girl whimpered slightly and leaned back against him. “It’s alright. It is only my brothers.” He assured her quietly, repacking her things before walking out. “Brother wh—“ Kuai Liang stopped short seeing the girl tear streaked face and covered in soot and blood. “Oh dear..” he muttered, walking forward.

Tomas followed him, reaching out for the box Bi Han held. “Hello there,” He smiled slightly at her “my name is Kuai Liang. What is yours?” She peered up at Bi Han who nodded slightly at her “Chao-Xing.” She muttered, cuddling further into his elder brother. “How old are you, Chao-Xing?” Tomas asked softly. “I turned 4 yesterday.”

Bi Han silenced their bubbling questions, looking down at the uncomfortable girl who was growing more and more tired. “Enough questions, let’s head back. She is tired.” He said firmly, taking the lead of the group who nodded.

They arrived at camp in two hours, and would be back at the compound the next afternoon if they left before first light. “Grandmaster!” Sektor called loudly, drawing attention. Chao-Xing stirred slightly, and Bi Han silenced her with a glare. “Quiet, Sektor. We will talk soon.” He growled, breezing past her heading for the tent that had been set up for him.

Bi Han tucked her into his bed, leaving the box of her things at the foot of the bed and left guards with stern orders to find him if she startled awake. Then he left to find Sektor and his brothers.

That night, he slept in the chair in his large tent, and when he woke Chao-Xing was curled up in his lap. Bi Han picked her up and wrapped her up in the small throw blanket that was on his bed to keep her warm on the journey.

He oversaw the clan packing up tents as the sun rose, and when Chao-Xing woke up he plated her some breakfast and ate with her on his right knee. The journey to the compound was quick, Chao-Xing fell back asleep some time before arriving and awoke to him ordering someone to clean her things and take them to her new room.

“Chao-Xing, would you like a tour of the compound? I can show you the gardens?” Kuai Liang offered, and she nodded somewhat hesitantly. “Not yet, she needs lunch first. And then she’s getting her measurements taken for new clothes, and then a trip to the medics.” Bi Han told his brother. Hua frowned. “No shots?” She asked quietly. “If they aren’t needed, then no.” She seemed satisfied with that, and let Bi Han take her to wherever her lunch was

After her trip to the doctors, where she thankfully got not shots, Kuai Liang and Tomas took her around the compound and ended the tour in the flower gardens. Chao-Xing enjoyed the gardens, mainly for the koi pond in it.

“Careful Chao-Xing! Don’t fall in!” Tomas laughed, gently pulling her away from the edge of the pond “I like fishes. Pretty.” She replied, looking at the fish in awe. “Yes they’re quite pretty, aren’t they? Maybe in the morning you can come out here and help feed them.” Kuai Liang said, enjoying the way her smile widened

At dinner time, Bi Han found them laying in front of the koi pond with Chao-Xing between his brothers. “Chao-Xing, dinner.” He said, voice surprisingly gentle. She stood up and ran over to him, talking about how pretty the fish were. “Yes the fish are very pretty.” He agreed, eyes drifting to his brothers in silent thanks.

Kuai Liang talked about her possibly feeding the fish, which made her perk up. So of course he agreed, and said he’d do it with her. But only if she ate her veggies at dinner. She poured up at him, but he managed to keep strong against her puppy dog eyes

Tomas struggled to not point out how easily he took to fatherhood.

Weeks passed, and soon Chao-Xing had been here a full month. It became routine for Bi Han to wake up to her curled up in his bed, and before breakfast they would feed the koi fish together. Then he’d help her chose an outfit and get dressed, go eat breakfast and train while Chao-Xing did her lessons

Chao-Xing proved to be a very smart girl, and finished her lessons an hour early every day (unless it was cursive then she finished her lessons on time) and always watched him train with his brothers

Then it was time for lunch, after which Bi Han would take her to the sides of the training grounds and meditate with her before teaching her basic stances for kombat. After that, she really had free rein to do anything within reason. But she chose to follow him around quietly.

Her wide eyes never strayed far from him, she even would sit outside his office during meetings. He would exit to see her staring up at him, pink winged cat plush in hand. She was always hot on his heels, and he didn’t mind too much. She was 4, and lost her family in a very traumatic situation. He couldn’t understand fully, but he could be sympathetic.

One night when he was tucking her in, and checking for monster per her request he asked her. “Why do you not sleep in your bed? I don’t mind waking up to you in my bed, I’m only wondering.” Chao-Xing sniffled and admitted “I keep getting afraid you’ll go where mommy and daddy went. And I’ll be alone.” Bi Han swallowed thickly. “Even if I did go there, which I’m not, you would still have the Lin Kuei to look after you, and Kuai Laing and Tomas to care for you.” She smiled a little at him. Bi Han smiled back.

He didn’t mind when he’d wake up in the middle of the night to her gentle knocks, when her night terrors got bad, when she followed him around, watched him train even though she seemed to hold little interest in becoming a ninja like him.

He didn’t mind, but others did apparently

His brothers made no comment about it, mainly because they had seen Tomas in the same way for many years. But Sektor had made a small comment about it. “I never understood why parents allowed their child to cling to them in such a way.” Chao-Xing tilted her head at the words, eyes dampening with sadness. “Well I’m sure that the parents don’t mind. They are their children, after all.” He growled, eyes narrowing at her.

Chao-Xing may not have understood the message, but Sektor did.

‘Never talk like that about my daughter again’

BONUS! DIALOGUE BETWEEN KOMBATANTS

Bi Han: You were so easy to trick

Shang Tsung: You are weak to think of a child over greatness

Shang Tsung: My offer still stands, with your power our victory will be assured!

Bi Han: I would never betray my family for your petty lies

Liu Kang: I did not take you for the kind for fatherhood

Bi Han: neither did I

Bi Han: was there a chance I would betray my family in this timeline?

Liu Kang: Your daughter changed the timeline in more ways than one

Kuai Liang: I never thought I would be an uncle

Bi Han: I never though I would be a father

Bi Han: I apologize for making you think I would betray you, brother

Kuai Liang: Just tell me your plan next time, and I’ll be happy.

Tomas: What does Chao-Xing want for her birthday?

Bi Han: She keeps asking for a puppy, which she won’t be getting

Bi Han: I apologize for making you think I would betray you, brother

Tomas: I forgive you brother, just warn us next time.

[sundaysconsort]

Since your reqs are open hehe 🤭

I would like to make a request for a blue birdie 💙 and domestic fluff 🤭 (i have nothing specific in mind, so I'll leave it to your beautiful creative imagination!! 💖🤭 Take your time with this req, hehe!)

Also, my first time making a req- 🧍‍♀️

Entry: " Recipe to Reminisce "

Pairing: HSR! Sunday | Reader

Information: After the incident in Penacony, it would take time for everyone to settle back into life on the Express. However, some crew members find adjusting harder than others, particularly their new addition, Sunday. Wanting to make him feel welcome, you research how to make one of his favorite dishes that you overheard him longing for. | 4.6k word count.

Tags: Domestic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Light Teasing, Tenderness, Pinning, Admiration, Hurt/Comfort, Longing, Appreciation, Subtle Flirting, Praise, Unestablished, Misuse of ingredients.

Though you had never mastered the delicate craft of baking, the absence of time spent in the pursuit had never bothered you. Life among the stars kept you perpetually on the move, grappling with the cosmic currents of your adventures on the Astral Express. After your long and exhaustive trek from Penacony, your intrepid crew found a moment's reprieve, a rare stillness in the ceaseless tide of your travels as plans for the next voyage to the enchanting land of Amphoreus began to take shape. This lull in activity stretched over the span of a week, and amidst the maps and charts spread out like a celestial tapestry, you recognized a golden opportunity. It was the perfect chance to warmly welcome the newest addition to your diverse crew, ensuring he felt at home among the swirling constellations and the unfamiliar chaos of life on the express.

You find yourself in the dimly lit confines of the Trailblazer's room, surrounded by the tantalizing scents of fresh ingredients as you prepare a heartfelt welcome gift for Sunday. A deep sense of apprehension fills the air, as you worry about the possibility of him wandering in and catching you off guard during your clandestine preparations. The thought of March discovering your secret and spreading the word sends a chill through you—this moment is meant to be a tranquil escape, a chance not only to prove your baking skills but also to convey to Sunday that he is no longer alone in this journey.

As you glance downstairs, the vibrant camaraderie of your friends echoes in the background, their laughter and chitchat filling the atmosphere with warmth. Himiko is lost in her world, savoring the rich aroma of her coffee, while March and Stelle are caught up in animated conversation over their sugary drinks. Despite their delight, you can’t shake the longing that gnaws at you—a yearning for the comfort of fresh meals, something sorely missed during your travels with the express, where dining means waiting until you reach the next destination.

Determined to turn your cravings into something special, you made the journey back to Penacony three system hours prior, gathering the necessary materials to craft the perfect sweet dessert. The excitement of creating something from scratch fills you with purpose, especially after having asked Pom-Pom to install a kitchen ahead of time. Thankfully, the kitchen arrived just in time for this culinary adventure, providing you with the perfect space to channel your creativity and affection into a dish that will surely bring joy to Sunday’s heart.

Tonight's mission was set in your mind: bake a delicious tray of Pudding Tarts to brighten up Sunday! You pictured the silky custard filling nestled in crisp, golden pastry, and the thought made you smile warmly to yourself, filled with anticipation for the delightful treat you'd create.

As the night wore on, the vibrant sounds of laughter and chatter from your comrades began to ebb away, leaving the bar enveloped in a tranquil hush. The lively atmosphere faded, replaced by the soft hum of the fridge, a soothing backdrop to the stillness that settled in. In the quiet, you found solace, relishing the companionship of Shush, who stood silently by, patiently awaiting the moment to craft a drink.

Seizing this opportunity to take the lead, you crept down the staircase with the stealth of a cat, your heart racing with excitement. Balancing a precarious stack of ingredients, you maneuvered carefully, each step a delicate challenge as you fought to keep everything in your grasp. At last, with a triumphant lift, you placed the colorful array of bottles and mixers onto the bar, a small victory that made you beam with pride.

As you scroll through the contents on your phone, a familiar recipe catches your eye—it’s the one you saved for Tarts. A sudden realization washes over you: you mistakenly prepared for Cream Tarts instead of Pudding Tarts. Surely there can't be much of a difference, right? You murmur this to yourself as you tidy your workspace, surrounded by all the ingredients you’ve assembled.

You take a moment to check your supplies: the refrigerated pie crust dough looks perfectly chilled and ready to work with, check. The instant chocolate pudding mix sits in its packaging, promising a rich indulgence, check. Milk, creamy and cold, is prepped next to the dry ingredients, check. You have the whipping cream, fresh and inviting, check. The powdered sugar, nestled snugly beside it, will add the perfect sweetness, check. Finally, you eye the grated chocolate, a decadent touch for garnish, check.

With everything in place, it's time to dive into the baking process.

You follow step one by preheating the oven to an appropriate temperature. Taking the chilled pie dough you prepared in advance, you began rolling it out on the surface you lightly floured, cutting out twelve 3-inch circles.

"Keep an eye on the dough scraps,” you remind yourself, knowing they will come in handy later for re-rolling to create the final circles. You think aloud, clapping your hands together, and watching as a delicate cloud of flour billows and settles softly over the dough. “Seems simple enough!” you muse, encouraged by the process.

Moving on to the next step, you carefully press each dough circle into a mini tart pan, ensuring they fit snugly against the sides, creating a perfect little vessel for the filling to come. The cool, smooth texture of the dough molds easily beneath your fingers. With a fork in hand, you proceed to poke small holes in the base of each tart shell, a crucial task to allow steam to escape during baking, preventing any error during bake. The rhythmic tapping of the fork against the dough fills the kitchen, a satisfying sound that echoes your anticipation for the delicious tarts to come.

Unbeknownst to you, a solitary figure had remained hidden within the confines of the room. As the soft sounds of your baking filled the air, he lifted his head, sharp golden eyes fixated on your delicate movements. He watched intently, every detail of your actions captured in his gaze, as he remained cloaked in silence to ensure he did not disrupt the rhythm of your culinary endeavor.

As moments passed, it became increasingly apparent to him that you were blissfully unaware of his presence. With each step he took, his feet barely whispered against the floor, a ghost gliding nearer to you from behind.

Suddenly, his voice broke the quiet, smooth yet edged with authority: "Hm. And what do we have over here?" The sound sent a shiver down your spine, for it belonged to none other than the last person you had hoped to encounter at this moment—drawing you from your creative sanctuary into the light of scrutiny.

His first reaction is one of surprise and curiosity, the corners of his brows lifting as he takes in the sight before him. You attempt to mask your baking efforts, going to great lengths to hide the evidence without making your fabrications too glaringly apparent. A flush of embarrassment creeps over you at the thought of being discovered by Sunday, your heart racing as you navigate the tension between your secret and the other person's inquisitive gaze.

You keenly attempt to spin a complex web of deception, artfully dodging the conversation’s focal point. Yet, your evasive tactics only serve to heighten his curiosity, drawing him deeper into a labyrinth of intrigue over your peculiar unease about the possibility of him uncovering your creation. After all, if your carefully crafted work were truly meant for the rest of the express members, he muses, there would surely be no reason for you to obscure it from him. He is not the type to divulge secrets about your playful mischief, especially if you wish to keep this particular matter under wraps.

As he begins to connect the seemingly disparate dots, a flicker of comprehension dances in his eyes; he starts to assemble the fragments of your intentions, gradually deducing the true identity of the intended recipient of your work.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” he says, his voice calm and sincere, each word carefully chosen. The seriousness of his expression reveals a deep understanding of the situation at hand, you didn't enjoy it despite his polite mannerisms. “I mean no harm. Would it be better if I step aside?” His gaze is piercing, filled with an awareness that suggests he has already unraveled your intentions, leaving you feeling exposed under the weight of his judgment, or perhaps, it's your mind raising the intensity on its own.

"I would appreciate that, though I—never mind." You shook your head, a sigh escaping your lips as your gaze fell away from his piercing eyes. Instead, you focused on the delicate pastry resting on the counter, its surface glistening under the warm kitchen lights as you awaited the oven’s familiar melody signaling that it was ready. A rush of conflicting thoughts swirled in your mind. Would it be more suspicious to ask him to leave, to disrupt the uneasy tension that thrummed between you? Or if you invited him to stay, would he see through your facade and guess that it was merely an attempt to quell his rising suspicion? It felt like a mental chess game, and with this man, there seemed to be no winning move.

Choosing to remain silent, you relinquish control and let him proceed as he wishes. As you turn your attention back to your work, an unsettling awareness creeps in, sharpening your senses to the weight of his gaze fixed intently on your creation. A flurry of questions swirls in your mind—had you inadvertently erred in some way? Does your work meet his expectations? You had felt confident in the process up until now, the steps seeming straightforward and manageable… but now, doubt tugs at you—what if you overlooked an important detail?

♫♪♪~ ♫♪♪~ ♫♪♪~

Placing the tart shells in the oven upon its chime, you'd crouch to the ground and eye your pastries closely through the tinted glass. It is recommended to bake for about five minutes or until they turn golden brown.

At last, your gaze drifts back to Sunday, where you find him deeply immersed in the well-worn pages of the book he carries everywhere. With a hint of curiosity, you step away from the warmth of the oven, your attention drawn to him. Despite the tumultuous events that unfolded in Penacony, a smile spreads across your face. Sunday appears remarkably transformed, his previous burdens all but lifted. No longer confined by the weight of his family legacy, he has shed the label of "Bronze Melodia." Instead, he stands before you as Sunday of the Astral Express, exuding a newfound sense of ease and self-assurance, while still carrying internal troubles which leech off of him. His ideology captured your interest when you first stepped foot in his dream, and you recall your initial instinct being that he couldn't possibly be a villain. Perhaps misguided, yes—most certainly—but not inherently bad.

"Sunday? I hope this doesn’t come across as insensitive, but I’ve been pondering something for quite a while now…" Your voice finally cut through the hush of the bar, like a soft breeze on a still evening, as you summoned the courage to speak.

"Hm?" he responded, the sound a gentle hum, his gaze lifting from the pages of the book he had been lost in. The warm light that filled the room caught the edges of his halo, causing it to shimmer ethereally, casting a golden glow that framed his features in an otherworldly light.

"What exactly is the burden that comes with being Bronze Melodia?" you asked, your curiosity intertwining with a hint of hesitation. It felt like a delicate subject to bring up—like disturbing the surface of a still pond, unsure if it would ripple out with unintended consequences.

"Ah, it is to bear the weight of listening to the myriad problems and vexations of the Dreamscape’s residents, offering them the guidance they seek. That was my solemn duty as Bronze Melodia," he answered, his voice steady and calm, yet a veil of unresolved emotion lingered in the air. It was challenging to decipher the depth of his feelings—he often cloaked himself in silence, guarding whatever turmoil may lie beneath that serene facade.

"What about you?" You could feel empathy radiating from you, a warm pulse of connection amidst the flickering shadows of the bar.

"Me?" Sunday questioned, his voice softening into an uncertain whisper. It was as if your inquiry had plucked at an untouched string within him, revealing a vulnerability he rarely displayed. No one had ever ventured to ask him such a straightforward thing; it was a simple question made complex by the weight of expectation. Who, after all, saves the savior? Who brings comfort to the strong? Destined to fend for themselves, he ponders your implication.

♫♪♪~ ♫♪♪~ ♫♪♪~

"You need not carry the weight of others any longer, Sunday," you urged softly, your voice a gentle reminder amidst the bustling kitchen. "Take care of yourself for the time being; you truly deserve it, no matter what doubts you harbor." As you finished speaking, you sensed his intense gaze lingering on you, a mix of contemplation and vulnerability reflected in his eyes. With a heavy heart, you turned away, the aroma of baked goods wafting from the oven guiding your steps, feeling the warmth of his gaze on your back as you walked away, leaving him to ponder your words in the stillness that followed.

As you open the oven door, a rush of warm air escapes, carrying the enticing fragrance of freshly baked pastry that dances around the kitchen. You carefully extract the delicate tart shells, their golden edges glistening under the soft light, and gently place them onto the wire rack you’ve prepared, allowing them to cool and crisp. The sweet and buttery scent envelops you, a tantalizing promise of the delicious creation that awaits.

Suddenly, Sunday’s voice cuts through your reverie, warm and inviting. You glance over at him, noticing the subtle change in his expression—now softer, almost tender. A flutter of warmth fills your heart, stirring emotions you hadn’t anticipated. Yet, despite this newfound gentleness, a hint of hesitation lingers within you. Your gaze flits between him and the bustling preparations surrounding you; uncertainty clings to your tongue.

Before you can gather your thoughts, he speaks again, his tone earnest and encouraging. “It would be an utmost pleasure to help. You’re making tarts, aren’t you? I have experience with this process if you’d allow me.” His offer hangs in the air, filled with an unexpected promise of collaboration, leaving you to ponder the implications of letting him in.

"Sunday, I genuinely appreciate your eagerness to lend a hand, but… I want to handle this myself. Is that alright with you?" You feel a surge of determination as you envision impressing him with your baking skills, knowing that every detail is crafted with him in mind. Moreover, you smile softly, adding, "Didn’t I mention you should look after your own needs? I promise I’m perfectly fine on my own." The warmth of his thoughtful gesture touches you deeply.

With a nod, Sunday recognizes your longing for independence and hesitates momentarily before stepping back, allowing you the space to carry on. Yet, you notice a flicker of conflict in his eyes, as he tussles with your desire to prioritize his own needs while he is left wanting to ensure you’re truly okay.

You let out a relieved smile, the tension in your shoulders easing as you grab a large mixing bowl. With determination, you begin whisking together the rich, velvety chocolate pudding and cold milk, your hands moving in stirring circles. However, the absence of an electric mixer quickly becomes apparent; the task proves to be far more laborious than you anticipated. Within minutes, your arm begins to ache, the constant motion wearying and unyielding. You can only imagine how effortlessly the mixture would have transformed into a thick, luscious consistency had you only plugged in the machine.

Frustration wells up, and you set the bowl down with a soft thud, letting out a groan that echoes in the quiet kitchen. It doesn't go unnoticed—Sunday, with his unwavering attention, shifts his focus toward you. You take a moment to rub your tired face, finding solace in the brief respite. When you open your eyes again, you’re met with a sight that leaves you momentarily speechless. He quietly steps in to continue the task, his movements determined and graceful, a stark contrast to your earlier struggle.

His gaze finds yours, conveying an unspoken message full of insistence, urging you to take a break. Somehow, it makes you realize that both of you deserve a moment of pause—even as you remind him that he should do the same.

Once you feel prepared, you gently lift yourself, ready to tackle the task once more. With a playful nudge, you encourage Sunday to shift aside. Though he hesitates for a moment, a subtle smile dances across his face as he shakes his head in mock reluctance, ultimately giving way. With a sense of accomplishment, you carefully pop the now perfectly whisked chocolate pudding into the cool embrace of the refrigerator, the two of you working in delightful harmony.

After allowing the rich pudding to chill for a tantalizing ten minutes, anticipation bubbles within you as you dash to the fridge. Once back at your workstation, you dive in with enthusiasm, scooping a generous spoonful of the creamy filling into each delicate tart shell. As you work, you catch sight of Sunday thoughtfully tidying up the supplies you’ve set aside, effortlessly managing the clutter without any prompting. You can’t help but appreciate his consideration; perhaps his arrival in your kitchen wasn’t an obstacle but rather a serendipitous opportunity to deepen your connection in this serene moment.

In a separate, spacious bowl, you pour in the glistening whipping cream, its surface shimmering in the light. Gradually, you add a dusting of powdered sugar, the fine granules drifting like soft snowflakes into the bowl. Sunday takes charge of the electric mixer, the rhythmic whirring filling the air as he beats the mixture. You watch with a mix of pride and longing as it transforms into a thick, airy concoction, soft peaks forming elegantly. Yet, a frown tugs at your lips, a small shadow crossing your heart. Sunday catches the shift in your expression and looks momentarily puzzled, though his expression is somewhat hard to distinguish due to its subtlety.

With a pastry bag graced with a star-shaped tip in hand, you take a moment to admire the cloud-like whipped cream before you begin piping it atop the chocolate pudding. Each swirl is an artistic flourish, an invitation to indulge. Finally, with a flourish of your wrist, you sprinkle finely grated chocolate over each tart, letting the shards fall like dark confetti, completing the dessert with a touch of opulence. The tarts shimmer under the kitchen lights, each one a masterpiece waiting to be savored.

“What exactly is it that’s left you feeling dissatisfied?” Sunday’s voice is gentle, almost coaxing, as it weaves its way through the heavy air of disappointment that briefly clouds your expression. You take a moment, inhaling deeply, as though the breath might help you gather your thoughts and ease the sting of regret that’s been lingering ever since the mishap.

“I accidentally made the wrong pastry,” you confess with a hint of sorrow threading through your words. The realization washes over you like a cold wave, and you feel a mix of frustration and regret bubbling just beneath the surface. “Pudding tarts should have that perfect, rich custardy filling—something dense, comforting, and evocative of home,” you explain, your voice trailing off as the weight of your disappointment seeps into the atmosphere around you. Despite the undeniable beauty of the creation before you, it feels tarnished by the expectations you had set in your mind.

The tart glistens under the soft, warm light, the delicate surface boasting intricate patterns and hues that speak volumes of your skill and dedication. Yet, instead of pride, you find yourself marred by the haunting presence of your error. “But instead, I ended up with a lighter, smoother pastry cream…” Your voice falters, “I—I wanted to present you with a pudding, not this…” The words escape your lips softer than intended, almost like a whispered secret, and you feel a pang of anxiety rip through you, praying he hadn’t caught the slip of your tongue—the inadvertent mention of 'pudding' that hangs in the air, uninvited and heavy with unfulfilled intent.

The tension in your chest tightens painfully as you await his response, your heart racing. You wish more than anything you could snatch back the moment, rewind time, and recapture the perfect sentiment you had hoped to convey. Each passing second feels stretched, laden with anticipation, leaving you to grapple not only with the pastry but the delicate thread of expectation that now hangs between you.

“Haha—” Sunday chuckled softly, the familiar sound wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His tone, soothing and free from mockery, eased the tension in your chest. “It seems the use of coercion is unnecessary; you’ve openly admitted that your actions were motivated for me. Though, I wouldn't consider myself somebody worth this effort,” You felt your cheeks flush as you lowered your head, a mixture of embarrassment and defiance flooding through you. With a sigh, you crossed your arms tightly, trying to adopt a façade of nonchalance, though inside, you were anything but calm. ", I appreciate this, and while I may have my perceptions of who I am and how to make amends for my past, I'll make an effort to be open towards your guidance and support."

Even amidst the uncertainty of his potential error, he showered you with praise, his voice rich with warmth and encouragement. As his gaze lingered on you, a gentle glow sparkled in his eyes, illuminating the kindness within. Yet, there was also a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, a mischievous glint that ignited something within you. With a swift and daring sense of rebellion, you lifted your head, your hands dusted with flour from your latest baking adventure. In a moment of light-hearted defiance, you playfully swiped the white powder across his cheek, leaving behind a mark of your shared joy.

Sunday's expression transformed into a mask of confusion, his wings twitching in response and his eyebrows arched high as he sensed the powder settling onto his skin like fine dust. The Halovian slowly raised a gloved hand, fingertips brushing against his cheek, and stared at the pale residue now clinging to them, bewilderment etched across his features, as if he were piecing together a puzzle that made no sense. “That’s for laughing at me.” you declared, attempting to veil your embarrassment.

You quickly shifted your stance, the flour dusting your hands as you brushed them on the kitchen towel that hung over the oven, accompanied by a pair of well-worn mittens. A soft huff escaped your lips as you turned to look at him, unable to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Here,” you said, your voice laced with a hint of embarrassment. “I... I’m sorry for, um, this.” With that, you handed him the towel, offering him a chance to clean himself up from the minor chaos that had erupted in the kitchen.

As he took the towel from you, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. A foreign affection blossomed within his proximity. You turned your attention to the nearby counter, reaching for a plate that gleamed under the warm light. Carefully, you arranged a couple of freshly baked tarts atop the plate, their golden crusts glistening invitingly. You hesitated for a moment, the weight of the moment making your heart race. “Welcome to the Astral Express, Sunday,” you finally said, your voice steadier now, filled with a mixture of excitement and a touch of apprehension about sharing this special place with him.

The weary man stood with his wings, once a proud emblem of paradise and hope, now curling protectively toward his lips, as if concealing a smile that flickered with the subtle brightness of a distant star, shimmering deep within the hazel depths of his eyes. Each gesture you made seemed to awaken a long-buried emotion within him, one he had long since surrendered in his ascent to the formidable role of family patriarch.

The crushing weight of responsibility had created an immense chasm between him and the warmth of joy he had once embraced so freely, a chasm that had only widened with the recent separation from his beloved sister. Memories of their laughter and shared dreams haunted him, leaving a palpable void that echoed with the yearning for those lighter, cherished moments of their youth. The gleam of hope he had once held dimmed, overshadowed by the ache of loss and the burdens of duty, yet as he looked at you, an ember of that joy flickered, igniting the faintest hint of a smile.

Sunday chuckled softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “You know, I appreciate this more than you realize. But there is no need to go through all this effort just to make me feel welcome,” he said, the warmth in his voice evident.

“I think you're worth it,” you replied with a smile, your eyes sparkling as you lifted the tart to your lips. The rich, chocolate flavor enveloped your senses, sending a wave of sweetness through you. As you savored the moment, you caught a glimpse of nostalgia flickering in Sunday’s eyes.

He stared into the distance, lost in thought. “This reminds me of my sister and those afternoons in the kitchen,” he began, his voice low and distant. “We’d whip up all sorts of things, but I always went straight for the pudding. I remember getting scolded for sneaking too much—” He chuckled at the memory, a light blush creeping across his cheeks. “I just couldn’t help myself. The way it melted in my mouth…”

You leaned closer, intrigued. “What did she say when she caught you?”

“She would get this stern look on her face, arms crossed. ‘Sunday, save some for everyone else!’” He recited her words, and the image was vivid; a younger version of him with a cheeky grin, caught in the act. "It had a considerable impact on my singing voice," he explained, his tone relaxed as he recounted the experience. "Because of this, my instructor urged me to avoid certain habits and practices, emphasizing the importance of preserving my vocal quality so that I could perform at my absolute best." He chuckled softly as he continued, "Our teacher referred to me as a duckling, a nickname that stuck with me throughout my lessons."

You both smile, the moment stretching comfortably as you take another bite of the tart, the chocolate-rich and decadent. The room felt warmer, filled with the echoes of shared memories and the sweet taste of connection. “Here’s to the pudding bandit,” you teased, raising your tart in a mock toast.

Sunday couldn't help but shake his head at the fond absurdity you displayed before playing along. "To the pudding bandit," he echoed, clinking his tart against yours, his eyes twinkling with delight. You both took a bite simultaneously, savoring not only the sweetness of the dessert but also the deeper bond forming between you—one chocolatey bite at a time.

Fin.

A/N | I pray I wrote Sunday accurately... I made it long to make up for my lack of Sunday content. I was afraid I'd write him poorly, and even now, I try my best to stick to what I know and describe more than include dialog. I fear writing them ooc. Sobs.

[muzansfangs]

How they eat you out.

Starring: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x f!reader; Shinji Hirako x f!reader; Isshin Kurosaki x f!reader;

Format: short-imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, language, dirty talk, overstimulation, shibari, vaginal fingering, oral sex (reader!receiving), daddy kink, marking the partner, hair pulling, praise kink, possessiviness, pussy slapping, edging, orgasm denial, dom!Grimmjow, dom!Shinji, dom!Isshin, small age gap between Isshin and the reader, sub!reader;

Plot: they love you, they love you so much that giving you oral has become an art for them. But they all have a different style, their own unique way of doing it. How do they eat you out? What do they do to make you melt under their skilful tongue?

PART ONE| PART TWO| PART THREE.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.

This man is a menace. A predator, he is keen to devour you messily, obviously. When he eats you out, Grimmjow makes you feel like a hapless antelope chased down the savanna by a leopard, caged in his chokehold, quite literally. His nails felt like claws digging onto your thighs to keep you in place at his mercy. In his shimmering piercing blue eyes, you did not fail to recognize the panther living inside of him. Grimmjow was a wild animal, you had to deal with it.

When he feasted on you, he always did it as if he was a starving man. He lapped, groaned, manhandled you to accomodate you in a position he enjoyed the most in that very moment and he even slapped your pussy, if you dared to protest.

Albeit he could be rough, though, he would have never hurt you.

Grimmjow was not a man prone to pour his heart out in tear-jerker love confessions. After telling you he liked you, he meant it and confined himself to territorial gestures and passionate nights of lust and love. His ownership over you was already established, yet he loved to remind you of how deeply he cared about you and your ultimate pleasure by spending hours with his face buried between your legs.

He could never get enough of you, of your taste, of the way you writhed beneath the licks he gave you. His tongue lapped at your core non-stop, his feline eyes scrutinizing in delight the way your face scrunched up, as he made you navigate the different seas of lust and pleasure.

As you laid on your back, his hands keeping your legs spread in front of his face, his mouth worked on your pussy to make sure not a single inch of your flesh was left untouched. You could swear you had even heard him growl as you bucked your hips up erratically. As a reflex, your knees spasmed and you attempted to close your legs. Wrong choice. Terrible accident.

“Keep your fucking legs like that, woman” he rasped out, forcing them back down as he shot you a resentful glare through his lashes.

You whimpered, hands covering your face in dispair as you panted “G–Grimmjow, baby, I’m sorry! It’s too much…” you gingerly whined, only to hear him snort and flick his tongue over your sensitive clit as a delectable form of punishment.

“You better be sorry. Look at you, soaking wet, and trying to rob me of my meal. Stop bitching around” he chided you, making you gawk as your hand reached out to grasp a pillow and you playfully hit him with it over his head.

This was such a natural course of events for you two. Moments of domestic tenderness and play time paired up with steamy activities. Maybe, deep down, you had truly tamed him!

Grimmjow groaned and slapped your folds as a payback, making you regret having chuckled at him and his dumbfounded expression the moment the fluffy pillow had landed on his face. Had you, by any chance, forgotten who was in charge? The audacity of acting like an alpha, when he was supposed to be the one, at least in bed, was surely going too far.

“You little pest, you know what? I’m done tongue-fucking you. On your hands and knees, now” the blue-haired former Espada ordered you, standing back up and unbuckling his belt right before your now rounded eyes.

Oh, well, your little stunts always led to him sheathing himself deep into you and hours spent in sitting down with a certain discomfort. Little did he know you always tried to piss him off to get pinned down like that and, honestly, he did not feel like complaining.

Not when he could mark you down over and over again.

Shinji Hirako.

Your boyfriend and his unhealthy, enervating, obnoxious obsession for doing things in unconventional ways had repercussions on sex too at times. While it was always an enjoyable experience, there were days it could lead you to insanity. Shinji loved to vary. You surely could not say sex with him was static, basic. On the contrary, it was appallingly turbolent. Along with loving to give you oral, Shinji literally put you in every possible position humanly practicable.

Upside down, preferably.

Dangling from the ceiling, ropes meticulously tying your limbs, you whimpered at the feeling of Shinji’s pierced tongue flicking your bundle of nerves. Your body shrieked, jaw going slack as your eyes fluttered closed to enjoy the sensation to its fullest. His sarcastic and infuriatingly childish attitude were reflected by his actions. He was born to tease you, to break you down piece by piece, until you were nothing but a whining mass of sweat and pleas.

“Your hole clenching around nothing is calling me, babe. Can you hear it whisper to me? Atta girl, you’re doing so fuckin’ good for me” your boyfriend crooned, his lips still hovering over your dripping sex, amber eyes drifting down your body until he made eye-contact with you.

Arching your back, a breathy moan ripped from your throat, your movements restricted by the ropes amplifying your perception to the maximum level “Shinji! Baby, please, just … Just add a finger, I can’t do this anymore” you begged him, teary eyes meeting his cunning ones, through your eyelashes.

Honestly, you had lost count of how many times he had brought you close to the edge only to let you down on the verge of your orgasm. He loved watching you bewailing, wiggling around, when all you could do was begging him to just finish you off. It was satisfying, amusing even.

“Damn, this greedy pussy’s so hungry for me. Have you heard her, babe? She wants a finger to fill her up! Fine, fine, I think it’s time to feed her. Brace yourself” Shinji casually chimed them, eyeing you amusedly with his characteristic shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

He was overly sassy, when it came down to you and your presumably pathetic antics. Testing your endurance, your patience, your self-control were delectable activities he loved to involve in your intercourses. His divious ways of unraveling you piece by piece, watching you unfold before his sharp eyes radiated a very much unparalleled sadistic aura you had never seen in anyone else before him.

The moment he glided his finger down your slit, temporizing for a little longer around your opening, before finally burying his finger into you, made you almost sob in need. Eyes squeezed shut, you shrieked, foreteeth sinking onto your lower lip almost causing it to bleed. It was still not enough, you needed more, you needed him.

Your feeble protests did not go unnoticed, though, and your partner was kind of feeling guilty for having edged you for so long. He sighed, ducking his face back down to your heat, darting his tongue out to swirl it over your clitoris. Adding a second finger, he began to scissor them into you at a fast tempo, the silver sphere on his tongue stimulating you in the right spots.

“Shinji! Babe, I’m— Shit!” you cried out in ecstasy, the pleasure coiling on your lower abdomen making it hard for you to stammer out a sensible speech.

Out of your head, breathless, knackered, you arched your spine and the sound of your strained moan eachoed through the walls of your empty flat. Finally, he had let you reach your pined climax. Chin glistening, coated by your juices, Shinji took a step back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

That smug smile of his never ceased to make butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Your pussy has such ‘a foul mouth’, when I eat her out. Yer should tell her to behave, damn it” he jested, earning a tired eye-roll from your behalf. Asking him to keep his attitude on check was the equivalent of talking to a wall.

“Untie me now, Hikaro Shinji. Or I will be delighted to show you how foul my mouth can really be” you countered back, only for him to snicker and begin to loosen up the ropes restraining your limbs.

After all, you were both far from being done and you were sure as hell not going to let his tantrum slide that easily.

Isshin Kurosaki.

The things this man would do for you go beyond your fervid imagination. He is not a boy, he is a man, husband material to be precise. Isshin knows how to please a woman and, according to him, the best part about giving you pleasure and incommensurable bliss is watching you unfold before his adoring eyes. One thing about him: you are his queen and priority. He would literally neglect his own urges and needs to take care or yours.

“I think I will skip the dessert tonight” Isshin announced, wiping his mouth with a napkin, eying you through his dark eyelashes from the other side of the table.

You knew exactly what he meant by that and you unconsciously found yourself pressing your thighs together under the table.

“You skip the dessert, but maybe you have had too much wine” you teased him back, albeit you played along his goofy game of seduction and shot a coquettish gaze towards him.

Isshin grinned and stood up, stretching his arms over his head, before he circled the table and stopped right next to you. His eyes devoured you, as he dragged your chair along the floor, parting you from the table with ease. He always made you feel as light as a feather, his strength something he was so proud of.

Cocking your head to the side questioningly, you flicked your gaze up to him “What are you up to now?” you inquired, watching the way he dropped to his knees right in front of you. He had insisted for you to wear that dress all day long and now you could finally see why he had been a literal pest.

His hands carefully hiked up the flowy skirt of your dress, his smile widening as you did not hesitate to be collaborative and hold it up in your hands while be settled his hands on each of your rotula, cupping it and pushing your legs apart for him. When he went down on you, Isshin never put you through too much trouble. He specifically asked you to simply enjoy the experience and pull at his hair. He spoiled you, he lavished you.

His hot breath fanning your clothed sex made you suck in a breath and he leisurely tugged the hem of your panties to the side to expose your folds to his longing eyes.

“Hush, baby, let daddy enjoy his well-deserved dessert, alright? I need it so badly, baby. It’s been so long since I did it” he dramatized the situation, eliciting a chuckle from you as his tongue tickled your clit.

“But, daddy, you did it yesterday morning on your desk! – you pointed out, lolling your head back as you securely tangled your fingers between his hair, tugging at them gently – Was it not enough?” you asked him, hips bucking up unintentionally and pulling a husky grunt out of him.

Enough? Of course it was not enough. This man loved nipping, lapping and sucking your pussy dry. He needed to do it, at least, twice a day.

Before his tongue could finally dive into your wet cavern, he knitted his eyebrows together, scoffing “That’s offensive. You left me starving, darling. Let daddy be happy, please, be a good girl” he pleaded you, his mouth leaving a sloppy kiss over your pubes before his tongue made you see stars.

Keeping it low with him was impossible. Either you laughed out loud, or you let out pornographic screams of pleasure hard not to hear down the streets.

Especially, when he left the window open for letting people covet what was rightfully his.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I’m so glad I have finally completed this series! Maybe, one day, when my requests will be opened again, I will add other characters too but as for now let’s just enjoy these ones. As per usual, your support means a lot! Thanks for having read this piece and I hope you’ve drawn enough enjoyment to simp for those folks. Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated! Also, writing for Isshin has been hell on Earth, help🥹

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @brittscafe @kr0wu @kryptoniteforsale

[lee-laurent]

Little Green Monster - Luke Hughes

Summary: Riley wants his dad. And Luke is not his dad

content: children, tantrums (child punching, kicking, screaming), doubts about relationship, kissing, past oc x ex!john marino

wc: 3.3k

notes: the highly anticipated part 6!! this one is a bit of domestic life, but also dramaaaa. maybe luke wasn't as ready for a relationship with a mom as he thought (hehehe) ENJOY

"What does a cow say?" Luke asked as Riley handed him a plastic cow.

"Moooooooo!" Riley laughed, clapping his hands together as he put his plastic sheep in his little barn.

"Good job, Ri! You're so smart."

This was the first time that Luke had spent unsupervised time alone with Riley. Tori had gone to the basement of the building to do some laundry and had asked her boyfriend to stay and watch Riley for ten minutes. Riley was quick to rope Luke into playing farm animals with him, but Luke was enjoying it to be honest.

"Moo! Moo!" Riley took the cow back, bouncing it up and down like it was walking. "'Ockey."

"Hockey? What about hockey?"

"'Uke play 'ockey."

"I do, that's right."

Riley shook his head, frustrated that Luke wasn't understanding what he was saying. "No. 'Uke play 'ockey?"

"You want to play hockey?"

He shook his head again, standing up and toddling over to the coffee table. He grabbed the TV remote, shoving it at Luke's chest. "'Uke play 'ockey!"

"Ohhhhh, you want to watch hockey?"

Riley finally nodded, sitting down in Luke's lap as he sat criss-cross on the floor.

"I don't know if Mama would be happy if we watched TV right now," Luke sighed, knowing that Tori was pretty strict about the screen time. She didn't want to raise an iPad baby.

"'Ockey?" he tilted his head to the side, waiting for Luke to turn on the TV.

"Okay. What hockey should we watch?"

Luke flipped through the watched videos on YouTube, noticing that most of them were highlights of John or Sidney Crosby. He knew that Riley really looked up to his dad, so he wasn't surprised. But that didn't mean it stung any less.

"Dada!"

"You wanna watch you dad?"

"Dada!" Riley clapped, picking up his toy cow again.

"Alright."

Luke clicked on one of the fan made highlight videos of John, watching Riley's face light up when he heard the announcers say "Marino." Was that Riley's last name too? He didn't really ask Victoria much about that kinda stuff. He could tell she didn't like talking about her past with John.

"Mama's home!"

"Mama! 'Ockey!"

"Are you watching hockey with Luke? That's so fun, baby!" she smiled, pressing a kiss to both of their heads.

"How was the laundry room?" Luke asked, setting Riley down on the couch.

"Super exciting," she rolled her eyes, smiling at him playfully. Luke shook his head, leaning down to kiss her. "You resorted to the TV that fast?"

"No," Luke laughed. "We were playing farm animals but then he decided he wanted to watch his dad play hockey."

"So you're a push over?"

"Rude," he placed a hand over his heart, feigning a hurt expression.

"I'm joking. He loves watching John play. Almost as much as he loves seeing him in general."

Luke nodded, leaning down to kiss her again.

"What're your plans today?" she asked, pouring Riley a bottle for his snack before nap.

"Not sure. Might go to the gym with Jack for a bit. He's pissed I've been sleeping here. After that... nothing? Come back here and make out with my hot ass girlfriend."

"Not gonna happen, bud. Your 'hot ass girlfriend' has a playdate with her baby daddy."

"You're seeing John? Why didn't you tell me? I would've come."

"Because it's for Riley to have some proper family time."

"But the three of us hang out all the time," he frowned.

But Tori continued, not realizing how much her words were hurting him. "He needs some... regular family time. My therapist said it's a good thing to do. So, we're giving it a try."

"Your therapist? Why am I so out of the loop, V?"

"I just... I didn't want to stress you out, Luke. I'm doing fine, I just need some guidance when it comes to managing co-parenting."

"Oh. Well, I'm gonna go home and shower. Enjoy your 'playdate.'"

"Luke-"

"See you later, Tori."

She sighed, shaking her head as the front door closed. She threw the towel she was holding down on the counter, resting her head in her hands. She took a few deep breaths, trying to center herself. Maybe dating wasn't the best idea after all.

Luke arrived home to the apartment he shared with Jack, his mood soured by his earlier conversation with Tori. He didn't like how she'd worded it as "proper family time." Why wasn't him spending time with them the same? And therapy. Why didn't she tell him, her boyfriend, that she was doing therapy.

Jack was sprawled on the couch, watching some stupid show he'd found on Hulu.

"Hey, man. You ready to hit the gym?" he asked, not even turning to look at Luke.

"Yeah, but can we talk for a sec. I need some advice," Luke slumped down on the sofa next to his brother.

"Sure. What's going on?" he clicked the TV off.

"It's about Tori. Well... me and Tori. She told me this morning she's having some family time with John and Riley. Said it's important for Riley to have time with his dad. And she mentioned seeing a therapist about co-parenting. I didn't even know she was struggling with that stuff. Like am I that shit of a boyfriend that I couldn't even tell my girlfriend was struggling with her kid. And now I'm questioning if I'm really cut out for this whole thing."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Cut out for what? Dating someone with a kid?"

"Yeah. It feels like no matter what I do, I'm not measuring up. I'm always in John's shadow. And with Tori so focused on making sure Riley has time with John, I'm starting to wonder if I'm even needed in their lives."

Jack leaned back, studying his brother. "You're taking on a lot, man. It's not just about being with Tori; it's about being a part of Riley's life too. And John's presence makes that even trickier."

"I know. I really do care about Tori and Riley," Luke said, rubbing his face. "But it's tough feeling like I'm never going to fit into the family like John does."

Jack looked at him thougtfully. "You gotta ask yourself if you're ready for all this. This relationship isn't just about having a girlfriend; it's about stepping up and helping with the responsibilities that come with Riley. That's a lot of work."

"I want to be ready," Luke admitted. "But sometimes it feels like I'm just the guy who's not John. It's hard to see if I'm making a difference or if I'm just background noise."

"It's a lot of stress to take on. You need to think if you're prepared for that kind of pressure. Are you ready to be there for Riley, even when it's hard? Especially since he's a toddler. You have to be consistent and supportive."

"I guess I gotta evaluate if I'm ready for that," Luke said. "I thought I was. But this is a lot more complicated than I realized."

"There's an extra layer of complexity to this, dude. But I'm here if you get overwhelmed."

"Thanks for being honest with me, Jack. I needed to hear this."

"No problem," Jack replied. "Now let's hit the gym and work through some of that stress. Sometimes a good workout is all you need to clear your mind."

Jack's perspective had helped Luke realize the gravity of his situation, now he just had to think about where to go next.

~~

Tori walked into the park with Riley in tow, his lunchbox in her hand. John was already there, sitting on a park bench with a big smile when he saw Riley running towards him. Tori waved politely but kept her distance, wanting Riley to have some time with his dad.

"Hey, Ri-Ri!" John called out. "How's my buddy?"

Riley just giggled and clung to John, clearly excited to spend time with his dad.

"Thanks for bringing him. Missed family time."

"No problem," Tori smiled. "He's always excited to see you."

John nodded, moving his gaze to Riley. "So, how's everything? You've been busy lately."

"Yeah, things are a bit hectic. I've been trying to get more hours in working," Tori admitted. "But Riley's been good. He's adjusting well. Spending time playing with Luke."

John's eyes narrowed slightly, thinking of his next words. "You know, I've been thinking. It's important for Riley to have a stable environment. And, uh, Luke... well, he's still pretty young, right?"

Tori frowned, "What d'you mean?"

John leaned forward, lowering his voice as if someone was listening in. "I've noticed he's been around a lot. But, you know, having a young boyfriend can be tricky. It's not about him hanging out when he feels like it."

Tori crossed her arms, her expression guarded. "Luke's been doing his best. He's trying to be involved."

John shrugged, "I'm sure he is. But it's a lot for someone who's still figuring out their life. I mean, Riley needs someone that's going to hang around, not someone who could just leave whenever."

"I guess..."

John reached over, ruffling Riley's curls. "It's good that you're thinking about what's best for him."

"Yeah. Always."

"Have you been watching lots of hockey, Ri?" John changed the subject, hoping he'd planted the seeds of doubt in Tori's mind.

"Dada play 'ockey!" Riley clapped, snacking on some of the cheese that Tori had packed for him.

"You watch Dada play hockey?"

"Yes! With 'Uke!"

"Oh." John wasn't sure how to react to that. Sure Riley was watching him play hockey, but he was doing it with Luke. He could be watching it with him instead.

"It's great that he likes hockey, isn't it?" Tori grinned, breaking up some more cheese for Riley.

"It's awesome that you're watching hockey, but wouldn't it be more fun to watch with Dada?"

Riley, not understanding the subtext of John's question, just giggled. "Dada play 'ockey!"

"That's right, buddy," he glanced at Tori. "You know, Tori, maybe we could make that a regular thing. Just you, me, and Riley. Watching games together on my off days. Didn't you say he should be getting time with both his parents?"

Tori hesitated, her eyes flickering to Riley as he played with his lunchbox. "I don't know, John. We've been trying to keep things... balanced. I want him to spend time with you, of course, but I also want him to get more comfortable with Luke."

"I get that. But just remember, no one can replace his dad. I'm not saying Luke's a bad guy, he's just young. And let's be real, Luke's got his whole career ahead of him. Do you really think he can handle the responsibilities of being a father figure?"

"I'm not asking Luke to be Riley's dad. He knows that. But he's trying to be there for us, and I appreciate that."

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Tori. Or for Riley to get attached to someone who might not be around for the long run."

"I appreciate your concern, John," her tone a bit sharper than before. "But I've got his under control. I'm making decisions based on what's best for Riley."

"Of course," John raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just looking out for our son. That's all."

Riley tugged on John's sleeve, oblivious to the tension between his parents. "Dada, play 'ockey?"

"Sure thing, buddy. How about we practice shooting some goals together? Think you can beat Dada?"

Riley nodded eagerly, and John jumped at the opportunity to step away from the awkward conversation but also show Tori how good of a dad he was. "Come on, let's go play!"

They moved to a small concrete area near by, Tori watching from where they were sat. She knew John was trying to do something, but she couldn't deny the importance of his relationship with Riley.

"Alright, show me what you've got, Riley!" she cheered, moving the conversation with John to the back of her mind. As Riley focused on playing hockey with his dad, Victoria couldn't shake the idea that things were about to get more complicated.

~~

"Hey, you haven't been over for a bit? Riley's been asking for you," Tori smiled into the phone, mixing Riley's oatmeal in a bowl.

"Oh, um, yeah. Just been super busy. Sorry," Luke replied, fiddling with a stray thread on his hoodie.

"Oh. That's fine. D'you wanna come over for dinner tonight?"

"I have a training session with Nico. Sorry."

"Did I do something wrong?" Tori asked nervously, setting the bowl down for Riley. "Blow on it, Ri. Hot."

"Ooo 'ot!" he waved his hand, blowing on his food.

"No, Tori. I'm just busy."

"Are you su-"

"I'm busy, Tori. Drop it. I'll talk to you later."

"Oh, bye, Lu-"

He'd hung up. Tori sighed, moving on to making her own breakfast. Just as she was turning on the coffee pot, she heard a clattering sound. She turned around to find that Riley had thrown his bowl onto the floor, oatmeal covering the floor and bottom of his chair. His face and hands were also covered, his spoon discarded next to his bowl. She sighed again. It was going to be a long day.

She grabbed a wash cloth to start washing up the mess on her kitchen floor. As she crouched down, wiping up the oatmeal, Riley started crying, his fists rubbing at his eyes.

"Ri, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm, though the exhaustion was already creeping in.

"Noooo!" Riley wailed, kicking his feet in frustration.

"Okay, let's get you cleaned up," Tori murmured, lifting him out of his high chair and carrying him to the sink. He squirmed in her arms, his cries growing louder as she tried to clean his face and hands.

"I know, baby, I know. We're almost done," she said, her patience wearing thin. As soon as she set him down, Riley threw himself on the floor, wailing at the top of his lungs.

Tori stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to do. She really didn't want to get a noise complaint. She had already been feeling off after the call with Luke, and now this. She needed help and Luke clearly wasn't an option right now. She picked up her phone, scrolling thorugh her favourited contacts until she got to John.

The phone rang twice before he answered.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, um, are you busy right now? Riley's having a rough start to the day, and I could really use some help," she admitted, her voice dripping with desperation.

There was a pause on the other end before John responded, "Yeah, I can come over. Give me 20 minutes."

"Thank you, J. I really appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it. I'll be over soon."

Tori hung up and looked down at Riley, who had moved onto his back, his sobs becoming hiccups. She knelt beside him, brushing his curls from his eyes. "Daddy's coming, Ri. It's gonna be okay."

Riley sniffled, "Dada?"

"Yeah, Dada's coming." She knew she needed John's help today, but she couldn't help but wonder what Luke would think if he knew she hadn't called him. Surely he couldn't be upset, he'd said he was busy. He'd been "busy" a lot recently.

John arrived at Tori's apartment, the sound of Riley's wails echoed through the hallway. He could hear the frustration in Tori's voice as she tried to soothe their son. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to walk into.

"Thank God you're here," she sighed, stepping aside to let him in.

John crouched down beside Riley, trying to get his attention. "Hey, big guy. What's going on?"

"Dada!" Riley cried, reaching out for John. His face was tear-streaked, and his eyes puffy from crying.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he soothed, picking Riley up and holding him close. But Riley continued to squirm, resisting his dad's hug.

"Riley, we're here, okay? Let's take a few deep breaths."

But he wasn't listening. He kicked out, hitting John in the stomach, and trashed in his arms trying to escape.

John winched, but held on, walking around the room with him. He was gently bouncing the toddler in another attempt to soothe him. "I know you're upset, buddy. It's okay to be upset, but we need to use our words."

"Look, Ri. It's Pooh bear. Do you want to hold Pooh bear?" Tori offered, holding up his favourite stuffie.

Riley shook his head, burying his face in John's shoulder, his body trembling from the aftermath of his tantrum. "You're okay, Ri-Ri. We're right here. Daddy's here."

It took a few more minutes, but Riley's sobs finally calmed into hiccups. His grip on John's shirt loosening as exhaustion took over his body.

"I think he's finally calming down."

"Thank you, John. I really couldn't deal with that on my own today."

"It's okay. This stuff is hard. But we're in this together, remember?"

Tori sighed and sat on the couch, motioning for John to join her. "I know. I just... I wasn't ready for the terrible twos. His first real toddler tantrum, I mean. I didn't know how to calm him down. And you're his favourite person."

"You did fine," John reassured, cradling Riley. "He's just overwhelmed and didn't know how to express it. We all have days like that."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just hate seeing him so upset."

"Me too. But he's okay now, and that's what matters."

As Riley settled into a deep sleep in John's arms, the room grew quiet. Tori watched John cradle their son, his hand gently brushing through Riley's curls. The tenderness in John's actions stirred something in her--a familiar warmth she hadn't felt in a long time. She was so grateful for John's help, but seeing him like this, being so good with Riley, brought back memories she thought she'd moved past.

John looked up and met her eyes. There was something in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. Without thinking, Tori leaned forward, her eyes flickering to his lips. John noticed, and in the heat of the moment, he closed the gap between them. His lips pressed gently against hers. The kiss was soft, lingering, filled with longing and familiarity.

For a moment, Tori kissed him back, all the good times from their relationship flooding her mind. But as quickly as it happened, reality crashed back in. She pulled away, her mind spinning with guilt.

"I--I shouldn't have done that."

"Tori..."

She shook her head, standing up quickly. "No, John. This isn't right. I'm with Luke. I... I shouldn't be kissing you."

"Tori, I know you're with Luke, but I can't pretend I don't care about you."

"It can't mean anything, John. I'm trying to move forward, to build something new. I can't go back."

"I-"

"I think it's best if we forget this happened."

She knew she had crossed a line, one that could complicate everything with Luke, but there was no undoing that she had just done.

"If that's what you want, Vic. But you can't ignore what's still there between us."

She didn't respond.

"Let me take Riley to his room," John offered. Tori nodded, watching as John carefully carried the toddler to his room. As she heard the soft click of Riley's bedroom door closing, she sank back into the couch.

"I'll head out now. But, Tori... if you need anthing. Call me," John said, standing near the front door.

"I know, John. Thanks. I mean it."

He gave her a nod, and turned to leave her with her thoughts. She couldn't deny the kiss, or the feelings that it stirred. But she was scared--scared for what it would mean for her and Luke, and what it might mean for the future she was trying to build.

[m3l0nfl0at]

Hi, I just wanted to say I enjoy reading ur Kuroo’s stories, the way u portray him is so accurate and y/n is very relatable. I don’t know if u take requests but here’s an idea, what if y/n’s sister has a kid and Kuroo and y/n is babysitting.

And after they finished babysitting they’re having a late night pillow talk about their future domestic life.

juno - t. kuroo

kuroo x f! reader ; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, no y/n used, reader has a niece, playful teasing, kuroo gets suggestive for like a second but nothing major, future hints for just say yes! timeline, 3.3k words

summary ; your sister asks kuroo and you to babysit your niece for the night, which leads to you thinking about the future of your relationship

melons recommended melody ; may you never forget me - temachii

links ; just say yes masterlist and taglist request

Answering your sister’s call was the last thing you expected to do today. Only for her to explain that she wanted you to babysit for a couple of hours. It’s not like you’re not good with children, it's just more that you’re not really the playful type. In what other children at your age had lacked in education, you lacked in imagination. Every time your niece wanted to play you felt guilty for not playing along. Yet for some odd reason your niece loved you? Every time you saw her at your sister’s house she always came running to you like some magnet. However, you hadn’t introduced her to Kuroo just yet. Due to him feeling “an enormous pressure” with you being her favorite and something along the lines of he can’t take your place. You always laughed at his snarky comments like sure, he could take your place as the favorite relative? Yeah right.

“Can I come with you?”, you look over at Kuroo questioningly. You both give each other a blank stare, you confused and Kuroo thinking you didn’t hear him. “Yeah, I thought you were coming with me this whole time?” Kuroo nods unaware that he made that decision. You wave him off, remembering him making a remark yesterday about he’s going to replace you and be the best relative. Kuroo slides right next to you on the couch, kissing your cheek before laying his head on your lap. “I’m kind of scared, your niece seems to effortlessly love you. I think I might have to bribe her to take your spot.” You laugh at him wanting to bribe your niece, truly a conman aura. You start playing with his hair, “Well my niece loves anything I love, so I’m sure she’ll love you too.”

Upon arrival at your sister’s, Kuroo's nerves never once faltered; he knows you talk highly of your niece. What’ll happen if he doesn’t impress her or even worse makes her cry on instinct? Will you break up with him? Realize he’s terrible with kids and then break up with him? Glancing over to Kuroo in the passenger’s seat you see him fiddling with his fingers, a habit he picked up from you. Knowing the feeling all too well you grab his hands, “No need to be nervous we’re just watching my niece. Don’t worry, she’s really well behaved and super smart for her age.” Kuroo nods knowing if anything happens you were right beside him, you laugh. “And you really thought you were going to replace me looking like a nervous wreck? You have a lot to learn my love.”, kissing his cheek as you hop out the car.

Knocking on your sister's door, hearing footsteps and her animals patter beyond the door. Her husband opens the door greeting you and Kuroo before you hear your niece’s footsteps running down the hallway. You bend down as your niece greets you in a big hug, “There she is! Did you miss me?” Kuroo’s heart clenches at the sight of you with your niece. “I have so much to show you and tell you! I got student of the month and I also did this art of me and-“ your niece glances behind you. “Um, who’s that?”, you laugh looking back at Kuroo nodding in his direction letting him know to introduce himself. “I’m Kuroo, I’m your aunt's boyfriend.”, he extended his hand out so she could shake it. She slowly takes steps to him before grabbing his finger and shaking his hand suspiciously.

“Auntie, can he play with us?”, you tap your finger against your chin. Kuroo coughs, interrupting your thoughts, “I guess so.”, you both stick your tongues out at each other. “Alright sis, the dog and cat are fed so just keep an eye on them. Don’t give them any more treats please!”, she glared at you knowing you often bribed them. “As for her, bedtime is at 9:00 since it’s the weekend.”, your niece huffs as you ruffle her hair. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours, thank you both for agreeing to watch the house.”, you nod as you walk your sister to her front door, locking it for safety. Turning around to see Kuroo and your niece staring at each other, you could just feel the awkwardness in the air. “Ok you two, what do you want to do first?” Kuroo looks at your niece shrugging. “Let’s go play in my room!”, you grab Kuroo shaking the nerves out of his shoulders as you follow your niece to her room.

Walking to your nieces room you feel yourself deflate, you hate playing pretend. How could you possibly be so bad at something that wasn’t even real? Your niece grabs multiple character toys before handing some to Kuroo and to you. As she tells you the narrative for her pretend play you look over at Kuroo, seeing him listening intently even wanting to add some plot points. You smile, for someone who was a nervous wreck a couple of minutes ago, he suited this role nicely. Kuroo was always so attentive and patient you knew he would get along nicely with your niece. “Auntie! Are you listening? Stop looking at your boyfriend.”, Kuroo laughs as you look away guiltily, apologizing.

“Ok, now that you’re focused auntie! You’ll be the fairy cat, while Roo is the DJ cat, and I'll be Gabriella, the human.” Kuroo looks at the toy your niece handed you, poking at its feet, giggling. Halfway through playing you decide you were going to excuse yourself to the bathroom. It wasn’t till your niece heard the door click that she put down her toys and looked at Kuroo. “Roo, I think auntie doesn’t really like playing pretend but you’re really good at it.”, Kuroo smiles before he decides to backtrack. “Why do you think that is?”, your niece pulls him closer before whispering in his ear. “She says it’s a secret but I think she just doesn’t know how to pretend.”, she pulls away from Kuroo’s ear before grabbing her toy once again. “But she tries, that’s why she’s my favorite.”, Kuroo takes a mental note to ask you what the secret is later. Ruffling your niece’s hair, “Well thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that.”. She giggles at Kuroo and continues to play pretend with him.

As you go in the bathroom you feel yourself relax, hearing your niece giggling felt somewhat rewarding. Knowing she finally had someone interesting enough to play with was a relief. You knew she would get attached to Kuroo, I mean he often worked with children due to his job. Feeling appreciative for him, you decide to take this time to update your sister on how everything is going so far. Opening the door to go take a picture of the fur babies but instead are met with the sight of Kuroo dramatically playing with your niece. Snapping a picture of that instead, making sure to make it your lock screen when you have time. Watching them from afar, thinking of how your future with Kuroo might look. Taking a moment to imagine a mini combination of you and him walking around your apartment. Thinking of moments like Kuroo holding a baby, Kuroo teaching your kid volleyball, or watching him play with your child from afar. You feel yourself fall deep into the comfort of the moment, just watching how amazing your partner was and continues to be.

Slowly walking away forgetting the task at hand, you softly head downstairs. Kuroo turns around to find your back turned to him and all he can think of is that he hopes you're okay. Snapping back into the moment with your niece as he hears you continuing to head downstairs. You find your sister's black cat laying in its cat tower, giving it strokes on its back. Looking around to find her pet beagle, only to find it also resting in its pet bed. Sending pictures and a text to her, reassuring her to continue having fun because everything was going swiftly. Walking around her house you see a picture of your sister and you as children in her hallway, you falter seeing your parents behind you in the picture. You touch the frame baffled how long ago this picture was from, thinking back to the day. Your parents were fighting but your sister paid them no mind, she was always such an independent thinker. You remember her telling you that they were just dumb adults and to only focus on her and taking a beautiful picture. To end up so different from her, you wonder what went wrong, why you were so…different?

“Auntie! Kuroo says you make the best smoothies! Can you make me one?” You and the pets are disturbed by your niece's booming voice traveling through the house. “Oh did he? You know what since he said that he has to help me make it now!”. Kuroo keeps a pace behind your niece while you stand in front of the staircase, for safety reasons. You peck Kuroo on the cheek, “Which smoothie are you talking about? You’re the one who usually makes me smoothies, handsome.”. Kuroo hugs you from behind as you start looking through the cabinet for a blender. “I’m talking about the chocolate banana one you make for me, when I want a sweet treat.”, you nod remembering that one time you made it for him when he got home from work. To be fair though, chocolate made anything taste good but hearing Kuroo brag about it as if it was the first smoothie he ever had in his life, made your heart beat ten times faster.

“Ok lovie, I’m going to look for the ingredients but when I say cover your ears-”, you demonstrate. Even though she knows how to do an action so simple, you don’t want her to feel alone. “Make sure you cover them because the noise is really loud, okay?”, she flashes you a thumbs up heading to sit down at the table. Kuroo pulls out a chair for her, leaning on the counter top so he can monitor you both at the same time. Your niece gets up to look at all the artwork displayed on the fridge, looking for a specific piece. “Here it is! Look auntie! This is the one I did in class, it’s us!” You stop chopping for a second to look at the artwork she’s showing, bending down to her eye level. “This is such a well drawn picture, lovie. I see you drew my hair nice and pretty!” pointing to the picture, letting her know you understood it. “Oh! You even added little cat ears to us like your toys! I love it, can I take it home with me?” She nods as you give her a hug. Kuroo smiles to himself so hard it hurts, you were so easy to love it was effortless. From your kind personality to your adoring smile, he would never doubt his ability to love you.

You hand the drawing to Kuroo so he could place it by your phone, remembering to take the drawing home with you guys. Kuroo drags your niece to the living room, asking her if she wanted to watch anything as you finished chopping the remaining smoothie ingredients. “Ok lovie, cover your ears!”, you watch your niece cover her ears but unexpectedly you see Kuroo covers his as well. As you start blending, you watch Kuroo get up and place his elbows over your ears. Laughing at how considerate and ridiculous your boyfriend was. Flashing a thumbs up to signify that you finished up blending, Kuroo let’s go setting up three glasses. “Ok lovie, order up!”, your niece comes running to get her smoothie. “Wow, so good! Roo was right, it's delicious!”, you smile looking at the clock seeing it was almost time to put her to bed. “Thirty minutes till someone has to go to bed!”, you pinch her cheek before giving it a quick kiss. “No fair! I felt like I spent no time with you!” you look down sadly, seeing her pout. “Well, I can read you a bedtime story and we can do your night time routine together! Just you and I, no stinky Roo there.” she laughs as Kuroo rolls his eyes.

Making sure to do her whole routine with her as she talked about various topics to the episodes she watched to the things she learned in school. As she’s talking you start to comb her hair, braiding it. You see her in the mirror yawning as you tie off her braid. You help her dust the bed before tucking her in. “Auntie, can you read me something with Roo?” you stop before kissing her head. Nodding, going to go call Kuroo, “My love, I think you’ve officially taken my spot…”, Kuroo grins pulling you into a side hug. “Welp, I told you this would happen. Nothing lasts forever baby, let’s go.”, you tell Kuroo to go ahead while you pick her favorite book. Entering the room hoping you chose correctly. “I know I haven’t read to you in a while lovie, I hope this is still your favorite.”, you pull out the book behind your back. She nods excitedly, “Well it’s my favorite when you read it to me.”. You start getting embarrassed realizing why she liked this book so much, hiding behind the book. “Roo, auntie reads this book the best she does these voices and makes the sound effects and everything!”, Kuroo looks over at you grinning. “Oh does she now? Well I can’t wait to hear it. I’ll hold the book while you read babe.”

You cough, clearing your throat while you shakily read the title. “Auntie, you’re not doing the voice…”, she pouts. Kuroo looks at you seeing how embarrassed you are, “No need to be embarrassed auntie! Please Roo needs to see how awesome of a storyteller you are!” Deciding to put your pride aside you start reading with the voice, hearing Kuroo chuckle at how bizarre you sound. Making sound effects and all, Kuroo thought you were incredibly dorky in an affectionate way. As you finished reading, you saw your niece slowly starting to drift off to sleep, telling her softly goodnight. Lighting up the room with her night lights before exiting her room, shutting the door. As one door closes another one opens, “We’re back! Sorry for coming a bit earlier than expected, we were tuckered out.”. You wave your hands, telling her that it was no problem. You bid each other a goodbye before getting in your car heading home.

Getting home you immediately feel exhaustion take over you, changing clothes and getting ready to sleep. Coming out of the bathroom you see Kuroo dusting the bed, getting ready as well. He meets you halfway before lifting up his hand, expecting a high-five from you. You laugh as your hands meet, “We’re the best relatives ever!”. He grabs you, pulling you into a hug, laughing at his exclamation. Shaking your head and going to lay down on your side, “Tetsu can I be honest with you?”. Kuroo bobs his head, “How bad did I give you the ick while reading that book?”, he laughs and you suddenly feel the urge to crawl in a hole. “I KNEW IT!”, you hid under the covers not wanting to see any sign of life. Kuroo lightly pulls the covers down, “You didn’t give me the ick per say. More like “I got with a major dork.” but I knew you were a dork when we met so I wasn’t too phased.” He kisses your head before pulling you into a cuddle, “You know I think because you’re such a dork that’s why your niece favors you so much.”. Your fingers dance around his chest feeling guilty about getting so much love from your niece. “You know, till this day I really don’t know why I’m her favorite. I can’t even play pretend correctly.”, Kuroo remembers what your niece told him earlier that night. “You know your niece said you had a secret. Care to tell me what it is…?” you look up at him, raising a brow. Trying to think deeply about what secret you told her, only to reach a blank. “Tell me more about this said secret Tetsu?”, Kuroo starts petting your hair.

“She said you had a secret about why you don’t like playing pretend with her.”, you sigh, shaking your head. “I used the word “secret” as an excuse not to dump my trauma onto her.”, still Kuroo starts nudging you hoping you would take the hint to open up. “My parents didn’t really allow me to be a “kid” so I don’t really know how to pretend. I just get a little insecure about it, I mean how does one not know how to play pretend? It’s not even real!”, you laugh at how frivolous it all sounds. Kuroo takes in what you’re saying thinking about your… strange parents. Feeling sympathetic towards you, knowing his parents allowed him some sort of kid-like innocence. Even though his parents had a rocky relationship they never included him, allowing him to focus on friendship and sports. “You can play pretend, that is how we got together in the first place baby.”, you bump his chest playful. “That was a life or death situation, not the same.” You both laugh remembering how you both were so entranced on selling yourself as a couple, years ago. “Don’t think too hard, loving someone like you isn’t complicated. You’re a very caring and nurturing person. Everyone is attracted to a beautiful soul like yours, especially me.”, you roll your eyes.

“You know Tetsu spending today with my niece made me think about us… about having…” Kuroo’s heart stops with each break you take, are you about to say what he thinks you’re going to say? “About having a possible child together someday?” Kuroo felt his heart burst out of his chest, seeing you with your niece being a dork but being oh so kind, he couldn’t help but think of you being a mother. A mini version of each other walking around? Get him a defibrillator, stat. “I mean I know we haven’t gotten married yet and maybe it’s too soon to have children but having a child would be something to start thinking about.” hearing Kuroo’s heartbeat increase as you continue talking. “If it’s a boy, it’ll have your crazy hair or if it’s a girl it’ll have my nose, it makes me think how badly I want that. With you.” You look up to see Kuroo’s face blank, you laugh thinking you’ve broken him. “I know that I don’t come from the best family but I want to be able to give my child an opportunity that I didn’t have, a loving family.”, Kuroo pulls you into a bone crushing hug feeling your sentiment deeper than you could ever know. A loving family, you and him together creating another beautiful life, what more could he ask for? He settles into your shoulder, speech coming out muffled. “You’d be the greatest mother. Seeing you with your niece, I’d never doubt your motherly abilities. You love people so seamlessly and that’s exactly what a child needs.”, you tear up in his arms feeling a sense of peace wash over you. The man you loved, who grew with you these past few years, never once doubted your ability to be a mother.

“So, when do we get started?” you laugh. “No way! You have to marry me first Tetsu.”, Kuroo lifts his eyebrows. “That’s manageable. Expect it soon, always be ready!”, he pecks your lips before you both fall asleep. Kuroo knew he had the ring stashed away in his closet dresser beneath the million novelty ties you got for him each holiday. Truth be told he got that ring after your first official month living together. Living together showed him that he didn’t want to do this life with anyone else but you. This one joke between you was sooner than you think.

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia: tysm anon for requesting! i try to portray kuroo as accurate as possible so tysm for the reassuring words! i hope all my readers find comfort in my kind of weird girl character because we all deserve some kind of rep. request for just say yes time line are open please consider requesting just like this lovely anon!

taglist: @0tsukie

@m3l0nfl0at on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[flyingwargle]

august fanfic recommendations!

this is indeed going to be a series. check out july's recommendations!

(also, feel free to give me recs! i'm kind of picky, but i promise to look at what you suggest before adding it to my 80 tabs of fics hehe. rec your own fics if you want 😎)

some of these fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too) t. 6.1k. sakusa gets hung up on the idea of indirect kissing and indirect hand holding and becomes enamored by the idea of holding atsumu's hand. lovely prose, sakusa is insane in this (affectionate) and atsumu is very loving.

Watching You for Love t. 6.6k. sakusa moonlights as a dj and atsumu finds him out. THIS FIC!! amazing prose and imagery, and sakusa falling for atsumu is also beautiful. please give it a shot <3

Hall Pass t. 6.8k. sakusa and atsumu discuss one another's hall passes and sakusa gets hung up on why atsumu's is saeko. i admit, i still don't know what a hall pass is despite reading this, but it depicts a somewhat jealous sakusa and saeko kissing atsumu, which is more than i could ever ask for.

atsumu, atsumu, let down your hair t. 7.1k. sakusa and atsumu move from fwb to being in a relationship but it's hard to be domestic after being physical. we love healthy communication in a relationship in this house.

the 28 postcards you left me t. 8.3k. after breaking up, atsumu leaves postcards for sakusa in animal crossing. this hurt to read, especially with how in love they were, until they weren't. there's a happy ending, though <3

The Jacket In Your Closet t. 8.6k. once upon a time, atsumu gave sakusa his newly purchased jacket because he saw him uncomfortable in a crowd. atsumu's forgotten about it but sakusa never did (and continues to have a crush on him).

stuck between a rock hard place, or something m. 10.4k. atsumu starts popping boners whenever sakusa opens his mouth. hilariously written and sweet <3 this made me so glad that i like girls because the way sakusa is described here is just. wow. he really is attractive. good for atsumu.

Situated Motionless in the Center of the Heavens t. 15.1k. "For a very long time, Atsumu could barely stand Sakusa. And can you really blame him? It’s Sakusa, the human equivalent of the feeling you get when you bite into a chocolate chip cookie and realize with profound disappointment that it’s actually oatmeal raisin instead." if that doesn't convince you, just know that atsumu is dense af but he ends up realizing his love in the end.

From Afar t. 17.4k. i could probably make a list of skts fics where sakusa has some kind of ability and intends to keep everyone at arm's length until miya atsumu ruins everything. the ability that sakusa has in this is unique and plays into his mysophobic tendencies beautifully. the way he and atsumu compromise with his gift is a delight as well. just beautifully written overall <3

Again, until it's perfect. t. 18.2k. sakusa and atsumu accidentally pull off a minus tempo quick and they start practicing it. i read this after situated motionless in the center of the heavens, and let me tell you - going from dense atsumu to dense sakusa is so, so good. they're so dumb, i love them /affectionate

One Track Mind m. 18.8k. suna and osamu publicly break up and sakusa is left wondering if it's a good time to tell atsumu that he loves him. hilarious, introspective, with some spice. a perfect blend for an excellent fic <3

In Pursuit of Happiness t. 19.1k. modern magic au where sakusa works at a magic shop after selling his happiness, and atsumu is a pest trying to make him feel happy again. lovely worldbuilding and slowburn!

Better Find Another Superstition t. 21.3k. 7/7. another modern magic au where sakusa and atsumu are forced to work together to resolve an issue with the city's magic supply. hilarious prose, and very light-hearted with a cool magic system in the background. one of my favorites <3

how can I not be moved (by you) t. 26.4k. 3/3. an achingly beautiful magic au where sakusa runs an apothecary and atsumu is a warlock. the worldbuilding is rich and the slow burn is delicious. absolutely beautiful and fluffy <3

pascal's wager t. 34.1k. 6/6. a sakusa character study and his obsession with superstition from atsumu's pov. beautiful writing, lovely wingmen to help atsumu (gourd bless osamu, akaashi, and bokuto) and lovely prose <3

the awful daring of a moment's surrender m. 34.2k. 7/7. in which sakusa lies to himself that he wants nothing with atsumu but atsumu is persistent. beautiful prose (i read so much of this writer's works, they're all so good) and lovely ending <3

Teach Me, Tune Me, Tempt Me e. 38.8k. 10/10. sakusa asks atsumu to teach him about the many firsts needed to enter his first relationship. oh, the pining, the angst, and of course the smut was on point.

sunaosa

working backwards till it rhymes t. 4.2k. gin congratulates suna and osamu on their anniversary, except they aren't dating. or are they? hilarious prose and premise, absolutely loved it.

reasons to microwave an elixir t. 8.2k. university au, modern magic au, roommates to lovers galore. i absolutely loved the prose and how sunaosa developed over the fic. definitely one of my favorites!

you never have to wander, wonder t. 22.6k. suna is the cameraman for the twins' buzzfeed-like worth it youtube series. lovely, lovely pining and prose.

iwaoi

What spring does with the cherry trees e. 7k. pwp with lovely prose and so much love between iwa and oikawa. reading it made me feel soft and fluffy.

galaxies, within you t. 21.1k. makki and mattsun are the absolute best in this. i love the seijoh4's banter and friendship, and how iwa and oikawa eventually confess their feelings for each other. the prose is hilarious and beautiful!

bokuaka

35mm t. 20.9k. 3/3. another fic where akaashi and bokuto slowly fall in love through high school but more movies, akaashi is a movie buff, and lovely prose <3

other

but i am strong (strong enough to carry him) t. 5.3k. atsumu gets a call that osamu has a breakdown and he, aran, and suna comfort him. a beautiful brotherly fic and the helping hands around osamu.

A Full Stomach g. 6.9k. kageyama notices that hinata is eating less and less these days and intervenes. hinata protection squad arise! so much fluff to the hurt, my son deserves everything that karasuno gives him <3

if it's me, it'll be okay t. 9.1k. yachi discovers she's aromantic and goes through it. also, she's best friends with sakusa and it's the best thing ever. a lovely exploration of aromanticism, please give it a shot <3

city's on fire t. 10.5k. cyberpunk au where the twins can hack into memories and rewrite them. the worldbuilding is unique and the twins' relationship is achingly tender but painful with a happy ending.

An Opponent Is Announced g. 13.1k. sakusa has no idea who oikawa is while the rest of the jnt does, hence commencing a (non-serious) investigation into him. love the character dynamics and plot, just a fun, light-hearted read.

a best man's worst problems t. 14.1k. kagehina. tsukishima is asked to be kageyama's best man at his wedding and to give a wedding speech. lovely outsider pov of kagehina's blooming relationship through the years from one very exasperated salty dinosaur.

Safe & Sound t. 17.3k. 5 times kitagawa daiichi ignored kageyama's suffering and 1 time karasuno didn't. oh boy, this hit me in the face with the ANGST and then the comfort. emotionally prepare yourself for this (i wasn't, and my heart shattered in a million pieces).

Common side effects m. 89.9k. 16/16. kuroken. THIS FIC WAS SO GOOD. kuroo is a depressed 30 year old reconnecting with kenma after 3 years of silence. it depicts the monotony and depression of adulthood so well, and the cast is so loving and supportive of kuroo while he was going through it. please give this a shot <3

[daisyjonesgf]

the lakes (3) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

masterlist

2.3k words

warnings: angst, talk of mental illness and su!cidal ideations, allusions to trafficking, mentally unstable reader who's in denial, allusions to death and violence, hurt/comfort, arguments, something gets thrown in anger, terms of endearment, dreams of domestic bliss, savior complex Finnick and reader, no use of y/n, unedited

⠀ 𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The familiarity of the train car made you shudder. The first time its elegance had amazed you, but now it was commonplace, a trade for everything else that had been given. The escort who you'd known for years, but always blocked out because of her unmatchable insensitivity was babbling on in her overwhelming syrupy voice as your brain buzzed with anxiety. When the smashing of a glass on the train's wall brought you back to the audio of the train cab.

“Can we wait to break things until the games? After all this time, Finnick, you still need your manners." She tutted, waving her hand in the air. “Plenty of time to get the aggression out later, right now just bask in the attention. Now I'm going to go check over the mentoring plans." Her neon purple eyebrows were so animated when she spoke and the color assaulted your eyes, the click of her heels echoing she exited.

Finnick had buried his head in his hands over a counter top as you quietly knelt down to pick up pieces of shattered glass. An Avox would end up cleaning the mess later, but you didn't feel comfortable just leaving it there.

“Why can't I help you?" His voice was much softer and more broken than you'd expected. Calloused hands holding his face as he stared out the train window.

“Help me?" Your confusion was evident. "You have helped me.”

“No I haven't, I'm an enabler." He shook his head, sniffling through the tears you hadn't noticed forming, your heart cracking.

You stood, dropping the glass pieces you'd been holding to approach him. "No you're not, Finnick, enabling what? Talk to me.”

He turned to you, "Talk to me. You're always trying to take care of me, angel, and I love that about you. But you use it as an excuse to hide the fact you're not doing better.”

"I am doing better, I don't understand what you're talking about, Finnick! I understand if you're angry, I just-”

"What? You looked at Annie and thought, ‘She’s too fragile to handle this, so why don't I take it all on for her? I can handle this.’" 

You nodded, “I can! I couldn't let her- I couldn't let her die.”

“But you can let yourself?" He had raised his voice ever so slightly, but it was enough that your chest was tightening. “You're punishing yourself for what you had to do to survive when you were 17! This isn't about altruism, this is about guilt."

“I'm not selfish.” Your voice was steely, you were angry. Why was he trying to pry at things that were of no matter to the present issues? "I'm doing my part, it wouldn't be right of me not to!" 

"Nobody thinks you're selfish except yourself. You could die because you want to prove something about what happened in the arena. That arena is gone, you need to focus on the now. On your now, not mine. You want to suffer in silence, you want to focus on everybody else to make up for living.”

"Stop it, Finnick! I don't want to talk about this. Be upset with me, but there are more important things to focus on.” You refused to make eye contact as you wrapped your arms around your body. There was a rebellion to plan for, no time for a psychoanalyzation of your brain, so you needed to deflect.

“You're my wife, angel, there's nothing more important to me than that. Especially since I've done such a shitty job letting you sit there, comfort, and listen to my problems while you only ever ask to be held. Why don't you trust me?” He stepped closer to you, voice delicate.

"I do trust you.” You kept your eyes planted on the ground. He was supposed to be angry or sad, but not whatever this was.

"Then why don't you say anything after you get a call from the Capitol? Why is it always only a few minutes after your nightmares to discuss how you feel, but every other waking moment is about me? I want to protect you, I want you to stop ruining yourself over the past and let me help you like you do for me.”

“I don't want to talk about it, Finnick." You were pushing down the onslaught of tears beginning to fall down your frozen face. “Can we please, not talk about it." You whispered as you shrunk into yourself.

“We have to start dealing with it, you are self-destructive, just because you hide things doesn't mean you're better set then Annie is. You are not going to step into this arena and sacrifice yourself for someone to make up for the fact you killed Conway six years ago."

“You're being mean."

“No I'm not, I'm being honest. You won't deny it because you know I'm right, this is a suicide mission to make up for all of them. Dying the second time around doesn't bring them back and neither will anything else. But if you put yourself in danger to make up for things we all had to do to be where we are now, you'll be killing me too.” 

You began walking straight past him, to comfort and be comforted was the dance that held you which was being broken as each second passed. This was unfair, having trauma didn't make you as hurt as him or Annie. You just had natural human feelings about what had happened and reconciling for that wasn't dangerous.

“You can't just walk away when I stop coddling you for a second, this is all going to be okay, if you can recognize and let me help you heal. If we're gonna do this I need the rational version of you." He trailed behind you as you kept walking.

“I don't need to be coddled, I'm sorry if you're sick of me trying to help you and everyone else, but that doesn't mean-" You gasped for air, “I'm just, I'm trying to help, maybe I am making up for what I did. I'm just sorry and I'm trying to help because I can't bear seeing other people having that light snuffed out of them. I want you to feel safe, and Annie, and Mags, and Ondine, that helps me.”

"See we can start there, you don't have to make up for what you did. Everyone did things to survive, we were kids. I can help you if we talk about it.”

"How are you supposed to help me, Finnick? I did worse things than you did, of course I'm guiltier, I preyed on someone's mind, on their feelings for me and then I killed them. And I'm so, so sorry for it everyday of my life and I feel it gnawing at my insides. I'm sorry that he's dead. I'm sorry that I was manipulative. I'm sorry for the person's I created. I'm sorry that I lied to you. I'm sorry that you're right. I'm sorry that I need to make it go away, Finnick, and it won't go away until I give it something equal even if it means I-” You wiped the tears from your face, “Finnick, I don't talk about it because being with you is reason enough to keep my grounded most of the time. I don't need to say anything when I see you and it's an easy reminder why I'm living."

“You shouldn't want to live just because of me. I want to be there for you, but when you feel that way I need you to be honest. You don't need to atone for any things, you deserve life. If we're going to go into that arena, you need to start believing that because I will not let you die. I love you and I need you to survive, to make it through with me to the end.”

You'd stopped walking and were leaning your back against the train wall. Nodding slowly, you were exhausted.

"I know you don't believe that right now, but I will make you believe it, my love.” His hand caressed your face and the radiating warmth made your ice cold face shudder.

You stared at him in silence before you let the sobbing take over your body. " I'm sorry, I don't know how to deal with it. I want to be better, I do, but I just can't. It won't go away.” His arms enveloped you like sunshine, guarding you from everything else.

“I know, sweet girl, I know." 

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Meanwhile Haymitch had to take the initiative to begin introducing his new tributes to the pack of well known, well introduced victors. Unbeknownst to Katniss and Peeta, he would of course be pulling strings to make sure they were in close proximity or at least had the attention of certain victors for the plan being hatched.

Katniss had not seemed thrilled at the idea of Finnick, but she was rarely thrilled with anyone.

“This year we have some volunteering, which will definitely spice things up a little bit. Two couples in one game, especially when one has been adored by the Capitol for years will keep their attention." Haymitch gestured to the screen where you were sending Annie back to the line with the other female tributes.

"Didn't she also have a relationship with the male tribute last time, isn't that how she won her games?" Katniss asked.

“Yes, Capitol Princess, she is just as adored, but more tame. The less cocky side of the duo you could say."

“I bet you he's not going to protect her when it comes down to it since she did the same thing last time. He's got to know that's just how she plays the game." Katniss reasoned, doubt of everyone taking hold.

“I'd be extremely surprised if that happened, they've been with each other for years and oh-" The cameras zoomed in on the seaweed and made rings on your fingers as you held hands. “Looks like that bond has gotten ever stronger. They'll be a pair and if she does die it would be a sad day, Katniss. She's a really nice lady regardless of what she did to win at 17.”

"It's not that different from you, you just got lucky.” Peeta remarked.

“I'm just saying she wouldn't be an easy ally to trust, I mean didn't she kill all of them when it came to the end?" Katniss shrugged, leaning forward. 

“This isn't about trust, it's about survival. You need allies, even if it means they end up dead at the end, you need them to survive. You're both fresh meat, these people have built a repertoire with each other for years. You're gonna need some of them on your side for as long as you can." 

"And you want us to go with them?”

" It wouldn't be a bad idea.” Peeta shrugged, "If he's gonna protect her then we'll be protected too.”

"Yeah until we become perceived threats too.”

"Hey, I'm just laying out your options. There are 22 tributes to pick from, I know these people so I'm giving you my insight. Whether or not you decide to take it is up to the two of you.” Haymitch gestured at both of them before turning back to the screen." So District 5.”

              𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Finnick, what's the plan?" You asked as you two lay in the silky sheets of the bed.

"We have to get Katniss to trust us so we can get her out of the games. We'll be able to plan more once we get there.” His hand lazily lay on your shoulder,  grazing strands of your hair.

"And you'll keep me updated? No secrets?”

"No secrets, my love.” You hummed contently as you snuggled yourself deeper into his shoulder. "When we're in the arena, you need to stick by me. They'll probably try to split us up somehow, we can't let that happen.”

"I can take care of myself if it does.” You assured.

"I know that, but I need to know that you're safe. That you're not trying to throw yourself in front of someone else to save them before you.”

"Even if it's Katniss?” You said lightheartedly.

"We need to get her out of there, but I won't let that be at your personal risk. I owe you a real wedding, remember?”

"Oh, I remember. One with a dress.”

"Any dress you want, angel. So you have to listen to what I say, just this once, and stay with me in the arena and do as I say to stay alive.”

"That's two times.” You joked. " I don't know if I'm capable of doing that.” 

“Haha, very funny." He rolled his eyes. Silence took over for a second and you closed your eyes to let yourself rest with him. “I promise we'll get out of this and you'll get the life you deserve, we deserve."

“I trust you."

“Good because I mean it. We'll have our house back overlooking the ocean where little kids will run around outside, soaking up the sun and salt air. They'll have your beautiful laugh and your hair that'll whip around as they run.”

"And you're angel eyes, plus that disarming smile. We'll have to be on the lookout or we'll always give them their way.”

“You can read to me as I fish, you can sit on your favorite rock and I'll collect you all treasures. Annie and Mags will watch them so we can occasionally sneak away to swim in the sunset." 

"Oh you've got it all planned out, haven't you?”

"Of course, my love, the perfect life we can have when we're free from all of this.”

"Then I guess I'll have to listen to you to make that happen.” You laughed tiredly, body relaxing.

"Exactly, Mrs. Odair, so I can make sure our dreams come true, that everyone gets a chance to do the same.” Oh, your sweet, sweet boy. 

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all so much for reading and for all the feedback! someone mentioned wanting to see haymitch presenting them and I thought that would be a great addition so thank @almostjollypizza for suggesting that! not gonna lie this was kind of a difficult chapter to write but I hope you guys enjoyed it, I'm excited to get to the Capitol and the stuff there. I have so many ideas! likes, comment, tags, reblogs, and asks are all super appreciated, love you guys, thank you! 💋

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautfulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @skjdksjdhdjd @meri-soni-meri-tamanna

[bullet-prooflove]

Home: Terry Bruno x Reader

Tagging: @beardedbarba @justreblogginfics @Storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life @witches-unruly-heart

It’s late when you knock on Terry’s door, later than you intended. You’d gone back to your apartment initially after work but you were restless, pacing your way through the carpet. It didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel like home. Your stuff is there, at least most of it but you still couldn’t settle. There’s an anxiety vibrating through you, an urgency, it spikes through your system leaving you reactive, defensive.

Hyper-vigilance.

You’ve felt it before. Your nerves are flayed raw in the aftermath of the adrenaline. It usually happens when things get dicey in the field but this right now, it’s emotional. It’s the product of the man who used to hurt you, stepping back into your life as if nothing ever happened.

You clasp the compass that resides around your throat, your fingertips rubbing over the tiny diamond in the centre.

So that you can always find your way, Terry had said you as he helped to put it on.

Home was where Terry was, it has been for a long time now.

It had been raining when you’d taken the subway. Your car was in the shop, and truthfully you could do with the walk, you thought it might diffuse some of the excess energy that was pulsing through your veins.

When Terry opens the door he isn’t expecting you, there’s a beer in his hand and he has the game playing in the background. You’re soaked through, water running off you in rivers, trailing from your hair and dripping down your face.

“I thought you were staying at yours tonight.” He says, setting his beer bottle down on the oak end table. “Christ, get in here, you’re gonna catch your death.”

The next few minutes are a whirlwind, Terry drawing you into the bedroom where he helps you strip out of your wet clothes and takes his time drying you off with a towel. There’s a tenderness in his touch, a domesticity and for a moment you find yourself falling even more in love with this man as he takes care of you. He pulls out his worn Yankees t-shirt from the dresser drawer and drapes it over your naked form before helping you into a pair of  his boxer shorts.

“Whatever’s happening right now. Whatever’s put you in this state I’m here ok?” He tells you, cupping your face between his hands. “When you’re ready to talk I’m here.”

***

It takes a while for you to thaw out. Terry tucks you into a blanket on the couch, makes you tea, it’s hot and sweet and just what you need as you listen to the rain patter on the windows outside. His leans back against the cushions, his arm on the back of the sofa, his thumb trailing over the curve of your shoulder soothing over it. It’s a light touch but it’s everything  you need and more because Terry gets you, he knows when you need space and when you need a little reassurance.

“I have to tell you something.”

He reaches for the remote and flicks the sound onto mute. The game still plays in the background but his eyes aren’t on it, they’re on you as he angles his body so that you have his full attention.

“I’m not really sure where to start.” You told him, fingers toying with the hem of the t-shirt.

“Why don’t you tell me how we got here tonight?” he said gently. “How you turned up here in the rain, soaked through?”

“It’s Paul, my ex.” You told him by way of explanation. “He’s consulting on a case of mine, it’s got me all in a spin.”

“Alright.” Terry said shifting from side to side. “If you still have feelings…”

You can see the hurt in his eyes, he’s starting to shut down but you reach out, your hand grasping his arm on the back of the couch as you reinforce your words.

“No.” You say it so venomously you can see the surprise on his features at your tone. Your fingers reach up to the back of your neck, trailing over the tiny patchwork of scars that reside there. You can feel them prickle like they did that night. “He was an addict.”

“Oh…” Terry said, his thumb trailing over the indentation of your wrist. “That must have been tough to live with.”

He’s starting to get it now, your reaction to this suggestion of moving in this morning. You’d lived with Russo for two years, he knew it had ended badly but he hadn’t expected addiction, it raised a lot of questions and he had theory, he just hoped he was wrong. You nod swallowing hard.

“Those scars, the ones on your back, your neck and shoulders. He did them didn’t he?”

Your eyes burn and you couldn’t stand to look him in the face. You focus on the game instead, the green of the pitch blurring your vision.

“He put me through a mirror when I wouldn’t pay a drug debt. They were threatening his career, to turn him into his Captain…”

“Did he...” Terry trails off because he couldn’t bring himself to say the words instead he supplements.  “Was there more?” He says finally.

 You shake your head.

“That was the first time, the only time. But you know my history. Once was enough.” Your father used to drink, you’d seen violence from an early age . You survived it, didn’t let it colour you but sometimes there were cases that hit too hard, the ones where a husband kills their wife. Those are the nights you don’t come home for hours, you go the gym. You beat the hell out of something until you couldn’t function, until you crawl into bed exhausted. Afterwards he cradles you close because even though you hadn’t said anything Terry knew, he always knew.

“Did he hurt you again?” Terry asks quietly and you shake your head.

“He wanted to get back together, he’s been sober over a year but… “ You meet Terry’s eyes. “He’s not even sorry about this…” You gesture at the scars that pucker the skin at the base of your neck.

You remembered the hours you’d spent in the hospital as a doctor removed glass from your back and neck, the stretch of the skin as they stitched you back together. It could have been worse you told yourself, it almost was, the doctor had told you. You were lucky you hadn’t suffered nerve damage; it was all just superficial.

“I started it when refusing to give him the money.” You recount.

“And he ended it by shoving you through a mirror.” Terry remarks you, his voice rough. “What do you want to do about this?”

“I am going to suck it up, and wait it out, he won’t be there for long and I think he got the message.” You tell him. “I’ve paired him with Sinclair for now, hopefully there will be as little interaction with me as possible.”

Terry presses his forehead against yours. He knows this is hard for you, that you’re walking a fine line. You both don’t trust to take it up the chain of command, shit like this, it never works out well for ones that do report, you just have to look at what happened to him to understand how fucked up the whole thing is.

“I am here for you.” He tells you, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek. “As your partner or a cop, I’m here for whatever you need.”

Love Terry Bruno? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[notjustjavierpena]

Doesn’t javier’s wife get tantrums when she is pregnant?

Unreasonable (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: She sure as fuck does. Javier is too in love with the idea of her carrying his child to get mad about it though.

Summary: First-time pregnancy and a husband who breathes a little too loudly is enough to make you rage.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, pregnancy and all the following symptoms (e.g. puking), pregnancy rage, cravings, kisses, reader is hormonal and unreasonable

Word count: 1.5k

Unreasonable

“Could you breathe a little louder?” You ask from the bed. You throw your novel to the side, unable to concentrate, while sending daggers in your husband’s direction. 

You are sitting against the headboard of your bed with all the decoration pillows scattered across the sheets, unable to find one that seems to do the job of supporting your aching back during your first pregnancy. This second trimester is hell on Earth; morning sickness, sore breasts and back, hormones running amok in your system, and no way of getting comfortable. It doesn’t help that Javier seems physically unbothered, daring to move around with ease in your shared home while folding laundry. 

“Honey,” he says gently, turning towards you with a smile that you find provoking, “I’m not breathing differently than I usually do.”

You seethe from your position because you know he is right. The book you were reading amongst several candy wrappers lies face down next to you as if it’s hiding before Javier has figured that is what he should be doing too. You cross your arms over your chest but your boobs feel too big and sore for you to do it the way you normally would. Every instinct in your mind is telling you to attack because you have no way of seeming reasonable in this, “Do you have to squeeze a soccer ball out of your pussy in three months?”

Javier raises his eyebrows at your crude choice of words and your terrifying mental image, “No…”

“That’s right,” you huff and then suddenly you are off into a scolding interrogation that Javier can do nothing about but endure. Your stare can freeze the sun, “Let’s see. Do you have to pee all the time?”

“No…”

You go on, “Do you find yourself crying over commercials on the TV with no way of stopping it?”

“No.” 

“What about your pelvic floor?” You think smoke might be coming out of your ears, “Do you feel like it is going to rupture when you try to reach something you have dropped on the floor?”

“Honey…”

“Does your back hurt so much that you contemplate if it’s easier to just pee your pants instead of getting up?” You ask. Ironically, you have the biggest urge to get up and pace around the room like a caged animal.

“I could massage your back,” he suggests so sweetly but not even that can calm your rage. 

“Haven’t you done enough?” You growl, “This is your little fucking love-goblin growing inside of me and all you had to do was grunt like a caveman and roll over.”

Javier blinks, trying a feeble protest, “Baby… I don’t think tha—“

“Don’t you ‘Baby’ me!” You rage against him, heart beating rapidly in your chest, “I am here either suffering in bed or waddling around like a goddamn incubator! The least you can do is try to make me feel better!” 

“I just offered a massage that you declined so maybe you want some time for yourself instead?” He tries again.

“Time for myself? How on Earth am I supposed to spend time for myself when you are breathing so loudly that our neighbors can hear it?” You avoid his gaze. 

He opens his mouth to speak but you are not done.

“Not to mention the nausea that follows me everywhere I go. Quality time with good old nausea!” You throw your hands up in the air in exasperation, “If I had a dollar for every time I have puked up my guts since you put this baby in me, I could buy myself a private island and be rid of your wheezing airways!”

You inhale deeply and frantically as you run out of breath. It’s then you decide that you are done, scooting further down on the bed to lie down on your side with one of the pillows supporting your pregnant belly. 

You fume quietly. Javier stands immovable. 

Eventually, you pout too. Your husband moves to stand by your side but he doesn’t touch you, “How about we order some food? Do you want to order some food?”

“Actually, Javi, no, I don’t want to order some food,” you reply, still with an attitude. 

“Are you sure, baby?” He gently presses on. 

“Yes, obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t say it.”

“I’m gonna order some food for myself then,” he lets you know, walking back to pick up the laundry basket. 

“Yes, fine, whatever,” you sigh loudly, “I don’t care.”

But you do care. As soon as the doorbell rings with Javier’s food delivery, you have thought about the million different things that he might have gotten for himself to eat and it has caused your stomach to rumble. You pout for real this time. 

Eventually, it becomes too much and you get onto your feet, tiptoeing down the stairs to satisfy your curiosity. You don’t need the food; you just want to see if your guesses about Javier’s dinner menu are correct.

You peek out from behind the door frame, staring into the kitchen where he is placing the delivery bag on the counter. The whole house smells like pizza and fried food, the scent having dragged you downstairs to gaze longingly as your husband is rummaging through the plastic bag to empty it of its contents. 

You spot the box of french fries next to a strawberry milkshake and frown, shifting slightly where you stand and trying not to feel emotional about your stomach growling for food. You lean your cheek against the doorframe and sigh loudly. 

“Hola, mi amor (hello, my love),” your husband suddenly says and even if you purposely made him aware of your presence in the room, you still feel on the spot when he notices you. 

“Hi,” you try to get a better glimpse of what he has ordered for himself, “What are you having?”

“I decided on that pizza place on the corner where you also get your haircut sometimes,” he says nonchalantly and you curse your emotions for getting the better of you earlier. You love that place. 

“Really?” You whimper. 

“Yeah,” he continues and stuffs a few fries into his mouth as he takes out a pizza box from the bag, “I really wanted one of their shakes. You know… the ones made from three scoops of ice cream? And then I thought I might as well get some fries because you taught me about dipping them into it, remember that?”

“Y-yeah,” you suddenly feel your bottom lip starting to tremble. The idea of not having a strawberry shake in your hand and their pepperoni pizza with a stuffed crust is close to torture, making you so unbelievably upset that you start to cry big and ugly tears. 

Javier tenses. He abandons the food on the counter the second he hears you, taking long steps to get to you quickly. He wipes his fingers in his shirt so he can brush tears away from your face, cooing softly as you wail, “Honey, shhh… There’s no need to cry.”

“I’m sorry, I was so mean,” you blubber to the point where you are heaving for breath, pregnant belly jumping as your whole body trembles, “I didn’t know that I wanted their milkshake and pizza so badly and now it feels like I am missing out. It’s really stupid but… The baby wants that strawberry milkshake, Javi.”

“I know,” he soothes and laughs softly as he brings you into his arms, giving you a hug whilst you continue your miserable crying, “That’s why I got you one.”

“What?” You sniffle, pulling back to look at him and showing off your red, puffy eyes. 

“I got you a shake,” he clarifies with a small smile, “And I ordered you a pepperoni pizza too.”

Relief washes over you and you cannot help letting out a little, shaky laugh amidst your tears, “You did?” 

Javier nods, eyes soft and smile warm, “Of course, I did. Te conozco (I know you).”

“With a stuffed crust?” You ask, suddenly shy and looking innocently through your lashes. You feel like you’re thirteen again, crushing on your husband all over. 

“Stuffed crust,” he confirms and the smile turns into a grin. He presses a kiss to your cheek and blows a raspberry until you giggle, “No need to cry. El bebé sabe que su mamá está triste (The baby knows their mom is sad)."

“Can’t have that,” you wrap both arms around him and repeatedly kiss his face; nose, cheeks, lips, chin. He closes his eyes, taking each with a sigh that’s nowhere near annoyed. You kiss his lips in the end, “Gracias, esposo (thank you, husband).”

“De nada, mi amor (you’re welcome, my love),” he lets go of you after one last kiss, walking to dig out one more strawberry milkshake from the plastic bag and then handing it to you. 

You take a long sip and do a happy dance without thinking. Meanwhile, Javier gets out your pizza too and suddenly all memory of why you were so angry earlier is gone.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[blrecs]

Hi, can I ask your top 10 favorite BL media ever (can be manga, anime, manhwa, manhua, etc)? Why do you love them? Thanks...

Damn, way to ask for an impromptu thesis defense! jk but this is actually a very difficult question for me. There's no reason why you should known this about me, but I’m one of the least decisive people when it comes to answering "what is your favorite ____?" or "what are your top [x]?" So here are ten bl manga that I have loved, in no particular order, which I hope will at least partially scratch your itch.

1. The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese (manga and movie), by Mizushiro Setona

I've already written about my "Cornered Mouse" feelings twice, most recently almost ten (!) years ago here. There was a period a few years ago where I'd reread both "Cornered Mouse" and "Chopped Carp" on Valentine's Day, and every year I'd keep finding new things to enjoy about it. So fortunately/unfortunately, I don't have much more to say here. Imagase is a classic bl type, a particular fan favorite archetype of the flirtatious and obsessive bottom who has hidden his pure love for so long that it can now only be expressed through sly and manipulative means. Mizushiro Setona has always excelled at portraying desperation (which is related, but not identical to the recent trend of "yearning"), and with Imagase she is truly cooking with gas--every panel of Imagase hurt and lashing out at Kyouichi is a work of art. But what really makes this story excel is Kyouichi, who fits one of my favorite archetypes of "the man who is kind of bad but not for any particular egregious reasons." He lets Imagase bribe him into a bad scenario, lets himself be lulled into complacency and a domestic relationship with Imagase, then too easily capitulates to Imagase's doomspiral tendencies, before finally leaving a very good woman so that he can get back with his gay ex-lover. Put like that, he sounds like a bouquet of red flags, but actually reading the story reveals a man who is by turns considerate and selfish, openly vulnerable and closed off, emotionally intelligent and a dumbass. Perfect catnip for me.

As a bonus for this post, I also want to plug the movie version of "Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese." I haven't watched many live action bl adaptations, but this one is a highlight to me because it really leans into the idea of being an adaptation. It deviates, quite significantly towards the end, from "Cornered Mouse" and especially the events of "Chopped Carp," but in a thoughtful way that highlights how much the screenplay and the director really internalized the story. Instead of simply trying to get the actors to copy and paste the manga panels into real life, this is truly an alternate version of Imagase and Kyouichi, one that highlights how they are both bad people to fall in love with, but maybe bad in just the right way for each other. In some ways the movie version of "Cornered Mouse" is actually the ideal live action adaptation of the Ugetsu/Akihiko/Haruki subplot of "Given," which is a thought I will have to unpack some other day.

2. Old-Fashioned Cupcake, by Sagan Sagan

I recently wrote a whole post on it, so enough said! There's a reason I own both the JP and Eng version of both volumes as well as the Chil-Chil booklet from when they won best series in 2021. This also has a drama adaptation, which is very serviceable! However, one of the best things about the original story is Sagan Sagan's incredible paneling and technical skills, which can only be enjoyed through the manga.

3. The "Pornographer" series, by Marukido Maki

Back when I was still making Futekiya threads, I did a little rudimentary blurb here. Of her stories I've read, "End of the World With You" is the best and most accomplished, but the Pornographer series ("Pornographer," "Mood Indigo," and "Pornographer Playback") is the one that most grabbed me by the heart and throat and shook me to my core. Kijima is an underrated Terrible Man (see above discussion of Kyouichi from "Cornered Mouse"). Yes, his initial gambit with Kuzumi is trolling of the highest order, but the true depths of his personality flaws (his selfishness, his stubbornness, his cowardice) are slowly and expertly revealed through the course of the story in a way that makes me clench my fists, it's so good. I never turn down a story that is about inspiration and writer's block, and the fact that Marukido Maki paired that story arc with a multi-year saga of two men in a kusare-en relationship (Kijima with his editor Kido) is the cherry on top of the most luxurious sundae. A dynamic I love is when two people realize their attraction to one another but mutually realize they are unable to act on that attraction in a meaningful way because of various circumstances, and that is "Mood Indigo" in a nutshell. That these themes (Bad Men, trolling, a relationship that happened at the wrong time) all come back in "End of the World With You" just proved to me that Marukido will always be a bl idol to me.

4. Secrecy, by Haruno Mami

Short Twitter thread about it here. Probably the weirdest entry on this list, but it's a story that has stuck with me for twenty years (!). Upon rereading, it's surprising similar to Pornographer: a golden retriever-coded (literally, based on Haruno Mami's interstitial doodles) younger man falls in love with a beautiful icy older man who takes advantage of him. There's an uneasiness to the relationship of the main couple here as they navigate the age gap and differences in their abilities to be vulnerable/express love and affection. It's rare to see a short-ish bl so readily admit that the main couple struggles to be on the same page and yet is so adamant and convincing that the main couple loves each other and wants to make it work. Hiroki, the older businessman, is cognizant of his issues, even going so far as to say that he is caught up in his own sense of superiority and self-pity, which makes him treat Satoru poorly. But Satoru has main character energy, with an Itadori Yuuji-like capacity to absorb the terrible things that must happen to him, and through sheer force he powers them into a happy ending. A story that is very much of its time (1996) but nevertheless timeless to me.

5. When a Man Loves a Man series, by Nitta Youka

I love to be contrarian, so of course this is my favorite Nitta Youka series and not Harudaki. "When a Man Loves a Man" is IMO the host club story to end all host club bl stories and the original love triangle discourse-bringer, with powerful maneater uke Takaaki at the center being flanked on one side by Iwaki, king of the oily seductive older men semes, and on the other by Shinkawa, one of the most pathetic/delightful "too proud to say I love you / work rivals in the streets and hangdog yearner in the sheets" younger semes. This is a telenovela of a bl, one for the messy bitches, a little ode to exes who keep coming back in your life and fucking it up, more a story about managing pride and ego than falling in love, which makes it kind of like a seinen manga but with sex and hosts instead of cooking or fighting or detective work or mid-life crises. The early volumes take patience as Nitta discovers her style and becomes more comfortable with faces/anatomy, but the later volumes are the stuff of 2000s bl opulence: long legs, suits with big watches, host club backgrounds that look like fancy hotel lobbies, and men with center parted long bangs blowing in the breeze.

6. Illumination, by Yamashita Tomoko

I wrote a full review of the series for my Notion site, so I don't think I have much to add here. Yamashita Tomoko is another one of my manga idols; she can do no wrong as far as I'm concerned, and "Illumination" is one of my favorites. It's a typical one volume bl with a longer title story and several unrelated shorts but shows off Yamashita's skills at quickly sketching out characters and imbuing them with an ordinary, realistic melancholy. I only wish to one day write something with as much grace and punch as "Illumination."

7. Endou-kun no Kansatsu Nikki (and sequel), by Hayakawa Nojiko

The only entry on this list that has the typical "two dudes in high school" plot, which is me accidentally telling on myself. Crudely, this is a story about lust and adolescent passion, but rendered so artistically in Hayakawa's style that it seems more poetic than it has any right to be. In my post recommending "Ima Made Kore Kara" (a collection of doujinshi that are vaguely related to the Endou-kun and Kurayami stories), I wrote that Hayakawa has "a pliant, soft style with her lines and paneling that reminds me of Yamashita Tomoko" and that "she loves using negative space to move you from one side of the page to the other." Her characters are rarely situated in detailed backgrounds, mostly against white space, but that highlights her elliptical style, with panels that are wholly focused on a hand reaching out for someone, the back of a character's head, a silhouette. And very few bl mangaka use sound effect lettering as effectively as she does, like in one of the early chapters of "Kansatsu Nikki" where the sound of a passing train crowds out the characters in a tense moment. All of Hayakawa Nojiko's series feature beautiful art, of course, but the Endou-kun series in particular feels like a descendent of the Year 27 style. The story itself is good as well, with lots of little, well-observed character dynamics and dialogue, but what's life-changing really is what Hayakawa Nojiko can do with a little bit of white space and some lines.

8. Red Blinds the Foolish, by Est Em

One of the most est em of est em collections, as it stars a longer title story on bullfighting (she would later go on to make a whole seinen series about bullfighting called "Golondira"), a shorter unrelated one-shot on shoemaking (she would later go on to make a whole series on shoemaking called "Ippo"), another one-shot on soccer (a throwback to "Ultras"), and finally a story about the stories we tell ourselves about art, starring ballet ("Tableau No. 20" and "Seduce Me After the Show"). Basically you could read this one volume and get the whole est em primer, and that's not even mentioning the fact that one of the chapters of the title story reuses images from her time as a Death Note (!) doujinka.

est em's best stories operate from a place of dream logic, the way a good movie must start from an arresting image. In the title story, everything revolves around penetration: sex of course, but Mauro's work in the slaughterhouse, Rafita's performance as a matador, the horns of the bull piercing through human flesh, a stabbing from Maura's past. It's easy to see why bullfighting appeals to est em, who in the title story braids multiple narratives about living and dying into the doomed figure of the matador. In est em's world, the matador is no different from the bull, which he impales; victory over death is a day-by-day affair, so there is no point crying over the outcome, only the artistry of the present moment. A heady, philosophical theme that seems like it would make for overwrought reading, but est em's skill is translating those things into bold, dramatic images: Rafita's cape which moves like a separate limb, the ribs of a bull echoing blood draining into a grate, the loneliness of the matador in a big empty ring, early morning after a cow gives birth. I don't think "Red Blinds the Foolish" is est em's best work, but among her bl works this is the one that most obviously summons up a mood, a smell, a place, and a theme. One could teach a whole writing workshop on it, if it were still available in print (RIP Deux Press).

9. The "Mainichi Seiten" series, story by Sugano Akira and art by Ninomiya Etsumi

If the Mainichi Seiten series were tagged like an AO3 fic ("raised by brother," "everyone in the family is gay," "picked up off the streets," "found family," "writer/editor"), you'd think it'd be like any number of similar stories, maybe even a "Super Lovers" clone (god help us). But very little I've read in the world of bl has come close to the journey Mainichi Seiten takes us on. The story begins, rather inconceivably, with Obinata Taiga learning that his older sister has married his former high school crush Asuou Shuu before leaving the country. Taiga is the eldest of four brothers and happens to be Shuu's editor at a sci-fi magazine. Shuu, on the other hand, has brought with him an adopted son who is about as thrilled with this setup as Taiga. And we're off to the races.

Mainichi Seiten begins with Taiga and Shuu's story, but its longest arc is actually about the youngest Obinata brother Mayumi and Shuu's adopted son Yuuta. The series as a whole is a startlingly insightful meditation on family. What does it mean to grow up? How much can you take for granted that your family members understand you, and how do we communicate with the people we love? Mayumi is one of my favorite bl characters, a willowy impish bishounen who shamelessly crosses back and forth between "being girly" and "being a man," and he's one of the best fictional representations to me of how we "codeswitch" between interacting with our family and interacting with friends/strangers. And Taiga, Shuu, and Yuuta, both individually and together, are a brilliant rumination on loneliness and acceptance, and show that it is impossible to believe one person can satisfy all your emotional needs. Love comes in all different forms, from all different perspectives, in all different life stages -- it truly takes a family in the case of Mainichi Seiten, even if that family is the most unconventional blended one.

"Clear Skies" is unfortunately another victim of the DMP/June limbo, which published the first installment (volumes 1 and 2 of "Clear Skies") but never got to the rest of the stories in this series. It ruins my day every time I think about it, so I try not to think about it very often. That said, I'm definitely due for a reread of this whole series.

10. Choco Strawberry Vanilla, by Psyche Delico

"Ohhhh my god Cathy do you like a story where there's a chaotic and uneasy love triangle? Where two people have a long and complicated history with each other that cannot quite be labeled as love? And a third party is dragged into the mess and you feel really bad for him? Should we tell Doyak? Shall we reread Love or Hate?"

I'm actually joking in this case because "Choco Strawberry Vanilla" is more than a love triangle, it's a primer on how not to do polyamory. Rarely do you ever see a love triangle that is so balanced (any one member of the triangle feels some sort of way about the other two) in its extreme imbalance (no two people's feelings are fully reciprocal or on the same page). "Canis" this is not; Psyche Delico's specialty is the unhealthy relationship that goes on for too long because the characters are willing, if not actively desiring, to be treated poorly. If the characters of "Choco Strawberry Vanilla" could or wanted to talk about their feelings and set proper expectations and boundaries, they would not be in the situation they are in in the first place, but as it is, one of them is learning to identify jealousy like he's on the world's most psychosexual episode of "Blue's Clues," one of them is willing to be treated as a spitroast conduit so long as he sometimes gets cuddles and a nice smooch on the forehead, and the third is... I seriously don't know what's wrong with Take and I don't want to know. This premise--three outwardly normal but inwardly emotionally fucked up men fall into a polyamorous threesome-- shouldn't work, but it does. It's not pretty, it's not healthy, and you should not try this at home, but damn if Psyche Delico doesn't sell it as an utterly unique entry into the bl genre.

And that's everything! I hope you enjoyed this, even if it may not be exactly what you're looking for. At the very least, well, I hope this gives you a little peek into my aesthetic principles, which seem to consist primarily of ummmm bad men failson-ing their way into uneasy happy endings...!

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Do you have any Kane headcanons?

I sure do! <3

Rating: T  Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?•ko-fi•

EDIT: shout out to @reallyrallyauthor who has just posted some amazing headcanons too!

Smells floraly. It’s not an extreme/off putting smell, but it hits you every now and then. At first, you think it’s just his body wash or something, but pretty soon you work out it’s just him. (My brain is telling me especially like a Hawthorn scent for some reason.) 

Animals love him. It’s almost like they are hypnotised/drawn to him. Wild animals will act domesticated/docile around him. Pets will instantly bond with him. He doesn’t seem to bat an eye at this and just acts as if it’s completely normal. 

Once a grizzly bear came out of nowhere when you were both on a hike, despite the noise you had made sure you’d been making. You’d frozen, grabbing at Kane’s arm. But Kane had just cocked his head to the side and the bear had sat down peacefully. 

“It’s fine.” Kane had told you, voice even and quiet.

But when he saw your panic, he’d nodded his head to the side and the bear had walked off that way. 

He didn’t understand why you’d dragged him back to the car. “It was fine.” 

“Grizzly’s kill people Kane.” 

“We were safe.” 

“You can’t know that.” 

He’d looked at you carefully, as if you were a toddler trying to convince him you’d see a flying pig. 

He doesn’t like to shake hands when meeting new people. It’s unsettling for him, makes his skin crawl. But he’ll do it anyway once he learns about social niceties to try to fit in. However, he’ll grab your hand afterwards and squeeze it rhythmically to calm down and get rid of the stranger’s touch. 

He gets overstimulated easily in new situations around new people and will just shut down, not speaking and avoiding eye contact completely. His warning signs are subtle and easy to miss unless you’re paying attention. 

However, if you’re near he’ll find you and just say, “leave.” quietly. 

He also comes to you when he’s overstimulated, most of the time he’ll just bury his face in your neck to shut out whatever is causing him distress. 

Despite not liking touching strangers he is more than happy to touch plants, animals and inanimate objects. And you. 

In fact he rarely does anything without some kind of physical contact with you. Holding your hand or touching your arm or leg, putting his head on your shoulder, practically laying in your lap. He’s like a cat. 

Doesn’t like it when you’re upset. It’s one of the rare times you see an immediate reaction from him, even if he doesn’t understand what’s upset you or made you angry he’s doing whatever he needs to to fix it. To stop you from feeling pain. 

Someone once pushed you rudely in the supermarket and you frowned. Kane was one second away from throwing a punch. You had to drag him out of the shop and explain that that wasn’t an ‘appropriate response’. 

He has settled on being very vocal if someone is impolite towards you, just saying “Rude.” very loudly and pointedly while staring the offender down. 

People don’t like his stare. The one he only seems to use when something’s gone wrong. When someone’s trying to square up to him. It seems to stop them in their tracks and make them reconsider. Causes a little spike of terror in their hearts. 

He’s never used the look on you, only gazing at you quizzically or softly. 

He follows you around, a little lost at times. Needing to be in the same room as you. 

At first it was a little disconcerting. The way he’d climb into your bed in the middle of the night. How he once got in the bath with you (fully clothed and not understanding your shock). You never feel scared around him though, you know he’ll never hurt you. 

Thank you for reading!

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[nortsauce]

HERE COMES NORT, YAPPING ABOUT FANDOMS THAT I’M NOT EVEN IN!

(And i’ll be typing the rest here because there are too many slides so read bellow)

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

My LONG ASS rant on how MHA (among other things) fails to present its ab*se victims in a good way,

Starring the todoroki family

So, i know literally no one cares but i feel like it needed to be said: but MHA has a BIG issue with victims of abuse being treated kinda shittily, to making whole arcs about their abusers.

This isn’t a HUGE thing, as the lack of sympathy for Hawk’s abusers was definitely there, but they still were portrayed in a semi-sympathetic light. This is not the main focus however.

I’m sure many could go on and on about Bakugou and Midoriya’s relationship, but thats not what i’m focusing on.

I’m focusing on the most OVERLOOKED and ABHORRENTLY handled dynamic of the Todoroki family

I will be going over each of the characters and why they suck in some way, but as a whole i have to talk about this: Each one of the characters of the family are all victims of abuse in some way, and represent the different ways that trauma affects the victim, i understand that.

All in all, they do a good job of portraying the different ways in which the people handle abuse,

Endeavor being one who never dealt with his past egotistical superiority complex and threw his baggage onto his family/children to live vicariously

Rei being the one who is emotionally/physically damaged to the point of a mental break

Touya being the ex-golden child, and the one who continued the cycle of violence (and misogyny but thats another topic for another paper)

Fuyumi being the one who holds onto an idealized version of a family that possibly only existed in her dreams, being codependent and longing/working to get those “happy times” back with her family, clinging onto smth that was possibly never there

Natsuo being the one who is (justifiably) angry at his abusers, cuts his family off and goes to pursue his own life/dreams

and finally shoto

the one who realizes his role as the golden child is only for his parents to live vicariously, breaks his cycle and is trying to figure out who he is.

These are all great representations of how people cope/handle trauma, and i believe that was on purpose, considering that it also speaks on abuse of children on baselines of being in a famous family.

However, certain aspects are clearly not handled properly; allow me to explain.

Shoto, the youngest of the family, is often seen as the architect of the abuse, as the family was actually quite “fine-living” (i’ll come back to this) before shoto was born.

There were obviously cracks in their family from the beginning, Touya being the golden child despite not being able to physically handle his own power without hurting himself (an allegory i’ll discuss), the fact that Enji (endeavor) basically bought his way into marrying Rei, and of course enji’s complex of being less than All-might.

However, many characters seem to blame the birth of Shoto for breaking the camel’s back, and starting the domestic violence that had already threatened to spill through.

It’s shown through the anime that shoto has a kind heart and never liked enji, due to the fact that he would harm him, his siblings, and his mother,

but for being the tritagonist of this show, we never get to see how he really feels. In all of this, perhaps we could see him feeling guilt for being the reason his family is broken, the possible resentment yet dependency he has for his father, the thoughts on how he feels conflicted yet guilty about his mother and continues to blame himself.

Its interesting how he never stops blaming his father, but regardless we only get his apathetic views on his father and no one else. Its saddening to see the sideline of the victim of abuse while his abuser gets a whole arc. But i’m not there yet.

Moving on we have Natsuo and Fuyumi. I grouped them together because they both have opposite ways of dealing with their trauma, as Aforementioned: Natsuo tries to cut all ties while Fuyumi tries to be a “normal” family with her remaining members.

Both of them have valid ways to why they act this way, and its tragic, however, the way they deal with their youngest sibling, shoto, is disheartening to say the least.

Both of them understand how Shoto was physically abused since he was 5, and neglect to form any sort of connection with him despite his better efforts in natsuo’s case, using him as leverage against his father and nothing more, while in fuyumi’s case, basically presents him in her fantastical version of him in their fantastical “perfect” family life, causing him to have multiple meetings with his abuser and forcing him to relive the trauma so she can have peace of mind.

In hindsight, this is all interesting heavy topics to explore in a character, and i was honestly curious to see how it would be handled

however it all faltered as soon as I saw the hospital scene.

SPOILERS:

After Dabi’s Dance, the todoroki family comes to visit Shoto and Endeavor in the hospital, both of whom are heavily bandaged and bed-ridden.

Despite this all, Rei, Fuyumi, and Natsuo force todoroki, who is burnt and recovering his voice, to get up and walk over to his father’s ward to speak to him.

Shoto, despite being unable to form full sentences, makes it FULLY CLEAR he does not want to be there, by closing the door to his ward, and attempting to leave. Despite his clear efforts, his family makes him go in to talk to him.

this 16 year old boy being forced out of RECOVERING, fully bandaged and barely able to talk, forced to visit his abuser to hear him cry about not being able to fight his own son, depsite also being his son and physically harmed by him since childhood.

In my opinion that wasn’t a good move on any of the family’s part.

Rei is a difficult subject to discuss. She is clearly a victim and has been for. while. She is mentally distant after being harmed for so long and spent time in a psyche-ward to handle herself.

Saying that she was a bad mother would be too far in my opinion, as she did her best to provide a nice life for her kids as well as defend them from her husband.

Not much is said about her, but from what we can tell she loved her kids very much, until the abuse started.

I feel the blame for shoto began with her, not being able to face her own son after the “death” of her first and the fact that his face reminded her of the abuse she’s faced from endeavor.

Her character is honestly an interesting one, but she is not safe from my scrutiny of the hospital scene. She was very brave for facing her abuser like this, however, she did not have to drag her bedridden youngest into the fray.

She is the DIRECT reason shoto has a scar on her face, (indirectly endeavor’s fault)

But i will never blame her for the abuse she faced for her children, by her husband and to an extent, her own son touya, which leads me into my next point

SPOILERS

Touya, aka Dabi, is the “Late” eldest brother who was originally Endeavor’s ticket into living vicariously to defeat all-might and be the number 1 hero.

I could go into the psychology of his character but he is ultimately very interesting. In all honesty the way he is presented as being the consequences of endeavor’s actions is palpable and honestly quite raw. At a young age, he was handling the pressure of being his father’s perfect creation, and the fame and fortune that followed as he sought his father’s approval. Soon, his quirk began to burn him every time he used it, a fact that endeavor ignored to pursue his goal. Touya’s power became self-harm at some point, an allegory for his disregard for his own life and well-being for his father’s dream which ultimately (literally) exploded on itself.

Touya’s story is interesting, from his abuse causing him to act like his father craving his approval, which lead him to act put against his mother and shoto, while laying his baggage onto his younger siblings, to losing his mind and realizing that he wanted his father dead and continuing the cycle of abuse further.

This is all a deep and interesting way to look at abuse and how the abused may become an abuser, HOWEVER.

MY critique here, is how sidelined his whole arc is, as his story is more portrayed of Endeavor’s past coming to haunt him, all for the watcher to sympathize with endeavor rather than understand how the abuse endeavor put onto touya made dabi. This whole arc was framed to be sympathetic towards endeavor, and to fear Dabi. Don’t even get me started on how Shoto’s feelings meant nothing in this arc, as well as being immediately cut off by a surprise cameo of a character that possibly discredited Dabi’s expose video on his abuser.

Finally, we get to talk about the elephant in the room: Enji Todoroki, endeavor himself.

What is there not to say about this man.

I feel I should start eith the obvious:

The forgiveness/sympathy arc for endeavor was quite possibly the worst thing to ever happen in the anime, and this is not subjective.

The whole arc is based around how Endeavor is a victim of his own mind and is trying his hardest to make up for being a terrible person.

Personally, i love to see character arcs of villains becoming a better person, but thats the very thing: Endeavor is trying to ask for forgiveness from his family, who he abused for 15 YEARS. This is no exaggeration as Shoto is now 16, and his cracks started forming as soon as he was born.

Endeavor had illegally married a woman that he basically bought his way into,

was illegally “breeding” (eugh) for quirk benefits,

Treated one of his son’s like a vicarious version of himself

Physically abused his son (age 5+) his wife, and verbally abused the rest of his children

isolated his son

treated his son like a weapon

and finally felt too prideful for any sort of meaningful apology.

This all adds up to a character who only felt sorry for his actions after the consequences started hitting him in the face, as he only felt remorseful when Shoto refused to be associated with him.

Now, some of you may be thinking: “A lot of characters are forgiven for more, why would he be the exception? It’s fictional why do you care?”

There are several reasons to why I care but i’ll speak in terms of framing for now. This show is highly influential to not only kids (as it is a KIDS SHOW) but to adults as well. May i direct your attention to the man who saved a woman from a murderous ex-boyfriend by blocking his machete hits all because My Hero Academia inspired him to take action and be a hero?

Or how about a murder that took place because the accused was inspired by an invader zim episode (the dark harvest)

Whether you like it or not, fiction HAS an affect on reality. Yes, we can determine what is real and what is fake, but you cannot deny that a lot of what media we consume helps us be who we are.

If the show promotes more sympathy towards an abuser than their victims, then people may find themselves sympathizing real world abusers over the voices of victims.

I wont speak on delicate subjects but I can already see affects of this happening, as people rally to defend famous people accused of being abusers rather than listen and provide support to the alleged victims.

In conclusion, These topics are definitely not easy to write, and I, for one, am NO expert and my word should not be used as gospel truth or a guideline on how to write these characters.

This is all simply my opinion on how the bias towards abusers in the show leads for the message to be skewed and marred in action.

I understand that no one is perfect, but if we only reward and sympathize with those who only seek redemption after they face scrutiny, then we lose the meaning of what makes someone worthy of forgiveness.

These topics are deep and interesting, but the way they are handled in this show is simply bad writing.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk and again: no shade towards the writers. Just critiques!