#fudge tell my brain to stop talking.

[brairslair]

op monster trio x fem!reader nsfw headcanons

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors need to scram)

a/n: remember, these are hc’s and just my opinion!

don’t forget to like, reblog, and comment to support my work! mwah <3

“just enjoy this”

luffy:

very talkative and vocal during sex

always just says whats on his mind

“wow, you’re so wet for me already”

“you look so pretty when your face scrunches up like that”

“that feels good. go faster”

not shy at all about moaning and can get really loud sometimes

like there will definitely be noise complaints

kinda a pleasure dom, but can also get really needy sometimes

wants to make sure you feel just as good as he does

“does that feel good?”

“how’s this?”

“you like it when i do that?”

loves bringing food into the bedroom (obviously)

aphrodisiacs? yes

licking whipped cream, hot fudge, caramel, etc, off your body? yuh huh

and his stamina is HIGH

he also gets really excited about trying new things, and will try pretty much anything once if it’s something you’re into

one of his favorites is mirror sex

spreading you out on his fingers or his dick and making sure you watch yourself

he just wants you to see the beautiful view that he gets to see

plus then he gets double of you, and more you is always good

loves when you get vocal, so if you’re on the shyer side he will definitely work overtime so he gets to hear you

will make it a game to see how loud he can get you

he also speaks portuguese bc it makes sense and also i said so !!!!

sometimes his language setting accidentally switches to portuguese when he’s fucked out

“vou meter em você ate você gritar meu nome”

goes crazy when you say his name

even crazier when you get so cockdrunk that you start babbling nonsense

honestly he can’t help but laugh

like full on belly laughing like a maniac while he’s breaking your brain

but he just thinks you’re the cutest and he can’t contain himself

sometimes he’ll have a conversation with you while you’re in that state, acting like he can understand anything you’re saying

“feels good huh?”

you’ll whine out something indecipherable in response

“yeah i know!”

he’s always happy if you tell him what you want and how you’re feeling

because he just loves you so much and he wants you to enjoy it too

because he thinks you deserve the world

can also get pretty dominant/demanding sometimes without even realizing it, just because he’s so blunt

he’s just a man who knows what he wants and goes for it

if he’s especially needy, he gets a little more rough with you

holding your hair as he fucks your mouth, because your eyes look so pretty when you look up at him like that

or fucking you hard and fast to chase his own release, leaving bruises on your hips from how tightly he’s gripping them

even then, he’ll always do frequent check ins to make sure you’re still enjoying it

messy kisser

loves kissing and licking and nibbling all over your body

definitely leaves marks

he’s also not shy about PDA, (mostly because he does not understand the social construct of what is and is not appropriate to do in public), so he loves when he gets to see his love marks on you the next day

thinks u look rly pretty with his love all on you

he’s really good with his mouth

could eat you out for hours, and wont stop until your whole body is shaking

big fan of face sitting

definitely more of a tits guy

always smiling into your kisses, wether he’s sweetly kissing your lips, leaving a trail down your body, or teasing your clit

loves to make you squirm, so edging you is definitely fun for him

he likes seeing you be all needy for him, especially since he’s usually the needier one (can you blame him)

definitely also challenges himself to see how many times he can make you cum in one day, and keeps track of his records

really enjoys using his devil fruit powers on you too, and laughs in excitement when it makes your eyes roll back

always gets you both water and plenty of snacks afterwards, falling into a comfortable conversation or putting on your favorite movie

zoro:

you’re the only person he feels comfortable enough to be this vulnerable with, and he trusts you with his life

you are always his number one priority, no matter what, and that naturally carries over into your sex life

he’s extremely attentive to you, in and out of the bedroom

knows your body better than he knows his own

always knows exactly what you need and just how to make your eyes roll back

he’s a “just relax and let me take care of you” kind of guy, and all he cares about is making you feel good

after all, you always make him feel good, even without doing a single thing

but of course he soaks in anything and everything you graciously give him

he quietly feels undeserving of your love, so he’s really big on being praised

your sweet words only spur him on to make you cum even harder

usually more of a soft dom

but if you ask nicely, sometimes he’ll let you take care of him when you know he needs to just relax

he’s gentle with his strength and careful not to hurt you

likes to fuck you hard but slow, wanting it to last as long as possible

he lives to hear your pretty noises of overstimulation as he makes sure to hit the right spots with every agonizing thrust

your legs held over his shoulders so you can feel every inch of him

doesn’t pick up his pace, even when you’re trembling and trying to move your hips against his

“i’ve got you. just enjoy this”

not super talkative, but definitely gets more vocal the more comfortable he gets being intimate with you

lots of grunts and groans against your neck

sometimes an occasional moan or curse will slip out

when he does talk, it’s soft and low, whispered for only your ears to hear

his voice gets a little deeper when he’s like this, and it grounds you and shakes you to your core somehow at the same time

he loves kissing you, and pouring every feeling he can’t put into words onto your lips

rly likes watching your face to see every pretty little expression you make

likes seeing how good he’s making you feel

also really big on eye contact

wether he’s fingering you, eating you out, fucking you, you’re giving him head, whatever, he wants to look into your eyes and watch them as they get all glassy

“hey, look at me. keep your eyes open”

a little bit into dacryphilia , because it feels so intimate to him

making you feel so overwhelmed with pleasure that it brings you to tears, then kissing all your tears away as you fall apart for him

he’s also really good with his fingers because of how much dexterity he’s built up in his hands from all those years of swordsmanship training

the reason he also has insane stamina ^

if you get bratty with him he’ll get bratty back (he’s a part of the sassy man apocalypse)

sometimes if you’re being particularly bratty, or when he gets cocky after a really good training session, he can get a little more riled up into being more talkative and commanding

but he still never loses that softness, because to him you’re angel on earth, and his love and adoration for you is overflowing

“if you’re that needy, just ask for it. don’t need to make a fuss”

“that’s it, keep going”

“go ahead, you can let go for me”

“tell me what you want me to do and i’ll do it, but you have to use your words”

if he’s feeling really confident, he might pin you against his surface of choice while he ruts into you, licking into your mouth to savor your taste

^ he feels guilty at first for being rough with you, but any fears of him being selfish fly out the window when he hears you moan his name all desperate and hoarse and fucked out

“you like it when im rough like this, huh?”

“what was that, honey? you gotta speak up”

“i know you’ve got one more in you, baby, don’t hold out on me”

no matter what, he always makes sure you cum at least twice before he does

he’s not super into pda, but he secretly loves when you leave marks on him

especially when you scratch up his back or his chest

they feel like battle scars and make him feel all proud and shit

he’ll “discreetly” show them off walking around topless, but he’ll still glare at anyone if they make a comment about it

he also joins the pda train anytime he sees you talking to another man that isn’t a part of the crew

or any time he’s drunk off his ass ^^

thigh/ass guy

he loves feeling your body shutter and twitch from his touch

he doesn’t smile too often, but you sometimes get lucky enough to see it

he’ll hold your jaw up and smile lazily into your sweet kisses while he fucks you deep with his fingers

constantly longs to show his devotion to you, and takes his time to make sure you feel it

lots of sleepy and lazy sex

also shower/bath sex

he lives to hear your sweet sounds

he will not stand for it if you try to hide your pretty little noises from him

“c’mon, don’t do that. let me hear you”

“don’t get all shy on me now”

“there’s my girl”

he’ll always put a pillow under your hips

he likes to wrap his arms around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible

he also just finds it really hot when you arch your back

he’ll fuck you so good that you genuinely cannot stand after he’s finished with you

then he’ll run you both a warm bath, hold you to his chest, and wash off your body and your hair as you both relax into the comfortable silence

sanji:

worships the ground you walk on (seriously considered starting a religion)

loves to be romantic and set the mood

cooking you both a nice intimate dinner, lighting candles, peppering rose petals, giving you massages, etc etc

but once you guys actually start getting intimate, he cannot WAIT to get his hands on you

but he still respects you and treats you like a fucking queen, because to him you are

not an exaggeration by any means either, he will build you a throne

he asks permission before kissing you

won’t touch you unless you give him permissiom

will do or say genuinely anything you ask him to, no questions asked

but will also pathetically rut his hips against your clothed cunt while you make out and cum in his pants if you allow it

he can get rock hard just at the sight of you

not even in a pervy way, it’s just that you’re sooo sexy and everything you do is like his siren song

definitely a sub

loves receiving, and feels blessed with every ounce of pleasure you grant him

but making you feel good gives him just as much pleasure, because he worships you after all

knowing he’s the one making you feel good really gets him going

he’ll worship your body for HOURS with no expectations to receive anything in return

he can get off untouched just by knowing he’s making you feel good

loves eating you out, and is extremely talkative

more than willing to be on his knees for you at any time

loves praising you (of course) and is always eager to encourage you

“you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen”

“you taste so sweet, mon amour”

“want you to cum so badly, sweetheart”

“please let me help you come undone my love”

he loves when you praise him too

however, he also goes crazy when you get a little mean

likes it when you use him for your own pleasure after a restless night or a frustrating mission

or when you edge him for hours as punishment for making a flirtatious comment towards another woman (atp he only does it to get this result)

he is also not beneath begging !

sucker for romance during sex too

loves holding your hand while he makes you see stars or while you let him use your mouth

kissing all over you while you both fall apart

babbling and whining against your lips about how much he loves you

loves when you mark him up, and will proudly show them off

practically gets heart eyes every time he looks at you, but his eyes are BULGING when he sees your perfect tits

loves sucking on them while you ride him

very cheesy and dramatic lines and pet names, but they all come straight from his heart and he means every single word

really likes it when you pull his hair

definitely whimpers and whines and moans your name like a prayer

says “thank you” when you let him cum because he’s so polite

probably has a breeding kink

definitely has low stamina at the beginning of your relationship and doesn’t last very long, but builds it up over time

still makes sure you’re more than fully satisfied even if he’s already finished

would let you tie him up, blindfold him, gag him, whatever you want, and he would enjoy the fuck out of every second

he would still complain and whine about not being able to touch/see/praise you a bit though

super passionate kisser

also always extremely sensitive, because it’s you

lots of cuddles and kisses and sweet words after the two of you are done until you fall asleep with your limbs tangled

asks are open!

[strangelittlestories]

Today I plan to tell you That I love you.

The words lurk all day Lurching, lost, round my stomach Rattling up my throat Occasionally threatening To rock up early And open themselves to strangers.

I keep them on track Barely.

Finally, After dinner, (Vodka fog from ill-advised cocktails  Thickening in my eyes) I open my mouth Heart pumping pure sincerity And what comes out (those sweet three little words) is:

“I hate buses.”

“What?” You’re not angry (Yet)

“I really mean it.”  This is true. But in a minute My brain will catch up to my heart.

“What?!?” You repeat. Louder. Amused, but perturbed. The bartender is watching us Like dinner theatre.

Currently, this is an amusing non-sequitur. I could brush this off Let the ill-timed thought wend  its lopsided way onwards And this will be a cute anecdote.

Instead, I run after it. I chase that thought down Like I am fleeing justice.

“The thing about buses, right? Is that you never know when they’ll turn up.”

“There are literally schedules On the bus stops.” You reply, Carried along in the slipstream Of my accelerating rant.

“Schedules are at the mercy of traffic And traffic is god of chaos That calls judgement down from uncaring skies In a blare of horn honks. Don’t talk to me about schedules.”

“*Fine*. I won’t.” The tenor of that ‘fiiine’ Is a warning light. I ignore it.

“Buses turn up when they feel like it, They always take longer than you think (Because - again - traffic exists And none of us are free of sin) They don’t go where you think half the time, There is So Much Waiting And every part of the journey Is out of your control. I would rather walk for hours, I would rather cancel plans, I would hire an e-scooter Even though I think they’re Very Silly Rather than take one bus. I’d say that buses are my own personal hell But at least with hell, I know I will *get there* And I’ll be on time.”

“Sweetheart…” You say. And the warning light in your voice Flashes red Klaxons are sounding Someone is calling the president And texting their family To tell them - ironically, given how this started - That they love them. “...what the *flip*?”

I puff myself full of indignance Ready to let these fiery feelings Run their route When the right words Finally wend their weary way To my stop. I deflate And flag them down.

“I got a bus here.” I say. “Even though I hated it. I repeatedly get buses to see you Because you live far away Near no good transport And it’s quicker than walking. Just.”

“What are you trying to say?” You take my hand And it’s like you know The map of me.

“I don’t know my own feelings Most of the time. They roam where they will They keep no schedule They conform neither to the laws Of gods nor mortals

I spent a lot of time waiting for them When I was young And eventually I worked out I’ll only know they exist When they’re taking me somewhere. Often where I don’t want to go.

I know that I love you When I realise I am willing To go out of my way If it brings me to you In the end.

Because love is not just a thing That squats in your chest It’s actions you choose to take And I only notice it When I verb the noun And realise I’ve changed my life To fit it On purpose.

And I took a bus to get here To you Even though I hated it.”

And you say: “Gods you’re so fudging weird. ... I’d get a bus for you too.”

[changingplumbob]

Woods Household: Chapter 1, Part 6

In this part Samir undergoes his first transformation and Reece has the opportunity to host his first guided meditation. The couple also talk about what's different with Samir now.

Low level content warning: Some sim spice and mentions of death

Reece is lost in meditation, so much so that he doesn’t realise he’s begun to levitate! He feels like he can sense Samir out there, panicked and pacing. He tries to push the thought from his mind and picture Samir calm. Breathe in, breathe out, repeat. Breathe in, breathe out, repeat.

...

At the top of the peak Samir is fully transformed now. The rage is burning through his eyes but he needs to get hold of himself. He feels himself thinking breathe in, breathe out, repeat. Breathe in, breathe out, repeat. His heartbeat begins to slow and he’s able to think again. What’s important again? Finding the killer? We ought to rip their throat out! Protecting Reece? He should be safe. But the killer is out there somewhere. Samir's thoughts are at war with each other.

...

Reece feels himself coming out of a trance and hears a banging in the distance. When he stands up he finds himself shocked as a rampaging werewolf heads for the bathroom.

Samir: *gruffly* I told you to lock the front door

Reece: Fudge! I had to go back out to the garden, I must have forgotten to relock it (the watcher forgot to relock it and is regretting it so much just this second)

Samir: *panting* I don’t want to hurt you blondie

Reece: You won’t, you won’t. Here, you’re in the bathroom now so we’ll just lock this one. You won't hurt me. But Samir… are you hurt?

Samir: *howls* I scared you *howls* I shouldn’t have done that *howls*

Reece: It’s my fault really (it’s the watchers fault for forgetting). And it's the first time you've changed, everyone usually messes up on their first time at anything

Samir: *howls* I… I can’t change back *howls*

Reece: Maybe... maybe we just have to wait it out

Samir continues to howl and Reece hopes he won’t be stuck like this long. The first transformation was always going to be rough but… is it really worth it? Samir's howls grow more painful and Reece worries he might not be able to come out of it. Surely answers are not worth Samir losing himself.

Reece takes some steadying breaths and thinks about his own family. What would it have been like to have seen his parents killed? His sisters. Heck, even Carson. His brain would be unlikely to rest without answers, just like Samir. He really couldn't say how far he would or wouldn't go for them.

All he can do is be here for when Samir needs him. Curled on their bed Reece manages to get a minute of sleep here and there, woken frequently by Samir’s pained howls. Watcher he hopes Samir’s not in agony.

I feel bad for Samir, locked in the bathroom all he does is howl. He howls so much that he grows from a pup to runt in a couple of hours.

Samir feels something strange come over him. Yes he's a werewolf but this is like an extra instinct. He felt something like it earlier, the need for meat. But this isn’t the same. His senses are all working overtime and he wants… no he needs to claim what’s his. His territory, his life, his love. A small voice in his head tells him it’s not proper but before he can stop himself, he’s pissed on the floor, marking his territory. After this he returns to howling. Eventually a fog comes over him.

Samir shakes his head, trying to be free of it. The fog pushes him down and he feels his body burning up. When he can breathe again he realises he’s in human form, and there’s a light knocking on the door.

Reece: I haven’t heard a howl for a while... are you okay? Please don’t be unconscious, or have chewed your own arm off

Samir looks around him trying to remember where he is and what is happening. The bathroom looks intact, he managed not to smash anything. But there’s a puddle on the floor. Oh watcher was that him?

Reece: Samir, if you can speak then... please speak to me. I’m losing my mind out here lover

Samir: I’ll... I'll be out in a sec blondie, I just need to… tidy up

Reece: Do you need any help cause I can help

Samir: It’s fine, I got it

…

Samir: I scared you. I told myself I wouldn’t but I did

Reece: It was a shock, can’t lie about that

Samir: There’s no proper apology but I am so sincerely sorry

Reece: Hey, it’s okay. It wasn’t totally you, I know that

Samir: It was like… these two voices in my head. Both me, both wanting different things. I didn’t know what to do, I just felt like… like I needed you

Reece: So you came home

Samir: Yeah, I came home *kisses* Hey, do you know you smell really good

Reece: Uhh what?

Samir: It’s like my senses have gotten sharper, and you smell *chuckles* delicious

Reece: *blushes* So you can smell more, anything else different

Samir: I want meat, like FRESH meat. I don’t know why but I'm craving it

Reece: You do have a fondness of food so I guess an obsession with meat could make sense

Samir: And I want to… I don’t know, defend my stuff. Is that weird?

Reece: You’re a real life werewolf, I think we’ve gone way past weird

Samir: So... you’re not scared forever

Reece: Of you? No. Of our potential grocery budget, yes

Samir: *chuckles* I can try hunting. Come give me a hug, I need you in my arms

Reece: I do love your cuddles

Samir: And how about my kisses

Reece: *smiles coyly* they’re not bad

Samir: *chuckles* not bad huh

The two share a frenzied kiss before Samir lifts Reece off the ground.

Reece: *between kisses* I mean… they could… or… I forgot… what we…. Saying

Samir: *groans* Damn, I thought kissing you before was good

Reece: What? *panting* Is it not good now?

Samir: *grins* Before, I’d feel where you kissed me but now, when you kiss me I feel it pulse throughout me. I can tell where your lips are still but the pleasure... it radiates

Samir: Sort of like my body is singing to yours. I guess touch is another sense that’s heightened

Reece: Want to take it up a notch then boss? Test how good it can get *laughs* for science

Samir: I don’t know. What if…. What if I hurt you too much

Reece: Samir, you haven’t before, you’re not going to start now. I trust you. Trust me, you can control yourself. The only way we can find out is by trying. And hey, this is why we have a safe word right?

Samir: You had better do *kisses* exactly what I tell you to

Samir took a steadying breath and led Reece to their bedroom. As normal he controlled what happened, but this time his satisfaction was brighter than it had ever been. When they finished he curled up next to Reece, longing to stay enveloped in him.

They had only gone to bed together at 2am but having managed moments of sleep Reece was ready to get up at his normal time. He carefully slid himself out from under a still sleeping Samir and quietly headed to the kitchen. There he ate his leftover salad while thinking back on the post transformation woohoo. He'd been right of course, Samir didn't hurt him, he'd maintained control the whole time. Maybe it was just what Samir had been saying beforehand, but Reece had felt like his body was singing right back to his lover.

Samir: Did you sleep okay? You didn’t get up spooked or anything?

Reece: I did not get up spooked or anything. I was able to get up early because... I did some napping while you were rampaging. Is that horrible?

Samir: *through food* No, I’m glad you were able to hold it together better than me during the transformation

Reece: What do you mean? You didn't break anything I could see

Samir: When I didn’t want you to come into the bathroom… I had kind of… marked my territory

Reece: Umm… did you do that the way I imagine it’s done

Samir: *sighs* Yes, I pissed on the floor. I had to make sure that whoever is out there knows this is our house, and they’re not coming in here and taking anything more of mine *growls*

Reece can't help it, his mind runs away with him when he hears Samir being territorial. If he had it his way Samir could be territorial over him 24/7.

Samir: These cold cuts aren’t doing it. I need something… fresh

Reece: Maybe you should go catch something

Samir: Like a fish?

Reece: Like the deer population… that are probably being kept in check by the werewolf or werewolves or whatever. I was thinking of trying to host some meditation at the rec centre so I’ll be busy

Samir: Fine. But I’m marking the place first, can’t have any rogues bothering you

…

Reece’s first guided meditation goes pretty well. Three of the women on the lot come to join in as he talked about deep breaths and clear skies. None of them see Samir when he gets back from the hunt as they have their eyes closed. Samir sees them though and is happy that Reece is able to keep trying to be a zen guru despite having a lone werewolf for a boyfriend.

Samir is busy boxing when he hears some visitors to the rec centre discussing the midnight howling. Whoops, that was him for sure. To fuel up after he grabs some of the meat he caught and wolfs it down eagerly. Reece decides to do some studies of the sky while I sit nervously, quite worried he’ll get hit by a meteor like Mortimer. Samir turns to the books again to try and understand some more of his new state of existence. Unfortunately, he doesn’t find anything helpful.

Samir: I just wish they had some stuff that wasn’t fiction

Reece: I’ll have a look online, try order us some stuff. Oh, Keira’s calling

Samir lets Reece take his phone call and realises he can now hear a faint buzz, his hearing must be better now. Looking around for bees he notices that both wind turbines are smoking, they must have got ruined in the storm last night. He heads off to try fix them, boosting his handiness to level 2.

...

Reece: Is the chord this, or is it different...

Noe: They’ll give anyone an instrument nowdays

Reece: Hey man!

Noe: Come on, I’m not cool enough to get a birthday party invite?

Reece: I just had a quiet one with Samir, there wasn’t a party to miss

Noe is in a tense mood but Reece tries to calm him down, what do you know it works! Did I mention Reece aged up with all 5 positive character value traits? No. I forgot didn’t I, I was too busy letting him fulfill his romantic whims. He did! Well done Reece! He and Noe play some football and it actually goes… well. He gets a focused moodlet from doing so well. Is this an alternate universe? Did the game hear my football complaints?

Reece: Please tell me you’re not messing with the electric grid with metal tools

Samir: Why? Is that bad?

Reece: You must be winding me up

Samir: Was Noe all good

Reece: Yeah I think so

Samir: Thanks for not making me come say hi

Reece: Hey, I know your boundaries

Samir: Lets do dinner

Reece: Can you do me after

Samir: *grins* So needy

The couple head around to the grill. Samir puts some sausages and peppers on while Reece takes the chance to geek out and play some video games on his phone.

Reece: What do we do about friends and family anyway

Samir: What do you mean gorgeous

Reece: Will we, you know, let the wolf out of the bag

Samir: *sighs* I don’t know how people will react

Reece: They should react positively, I mean you’re even more buff now

Samir: *chuckles* pretty sure you’re the only one checking me out

Reece: Oh, I don’t check out. I blatantly ogle you

Samir: *smirks* You’re becoming a bit of a werewolf ally there

Reece: Lover... what did you mean when you said... you had two voices inside your head when you were in wolf form

Samir: Should have figured you’d remember that. It was kind of like having two sets of instructions at once

Reece: Like a Gollum Smeagol situation

Samir: I don’t know what that means

Reece: It just means we need to try help your good side win out

Samir: Damn it! I thought these sausages would be fine but I really just need more meat

Reece: I can grab a plate for you, don’t worry. Then maybe I could... taste your meat?

Samir: *snorts* I guess good boys can get seconds

Samir gains the werewolf diplomacy perk and Reece is indeed a werewolf ally now. However neither of them want to be allies with whoever is responsible for the death of Samir’s parents. It’s more that they understand that werewolves can be good and bad, just like human sims. When they get to bed, after woohoo of course, Reece cuddles up to Samir, who can’t believe he snagged such an understanding boyfriend.

Previous Part ... Next Part

[goldeneyedgirl]

Ficmas22: Day 11: Hybrid-verse Babyfic

I cannot believe I'm posting this.

Let my bad judgment be a gift for you all.

This is one of the baby-verse concepts that I considered for Hybrid verse. This is the most coherent one, I think. Ask flowerslut, she is the champion of these takes.

ANYWAY, I might have to do a follow-up for more baby-Jasper interaction but this is definitely something that establishes the universe.

This fic is very much entrenched in the characters, world-building and mythology of Hybrid, so I would hit the tags to catch up if you haven't. Or play it fast and loose and go in blind; I support you.

I hope you enjoy it and I don't lose all credibility <3

Graduating from high school eight months pregnant wasn’t exactly something I planned for. 

But then, getting pregnant in high school wasn’t on my to-do list either. I’d felt ridiculous taking the pregnancy test in the first place, when Mom had told me that I was infertile my entire life. All of my plans had been based on the fact that I’d never be a mother, and that had always been my normal. I’d known it so long it wasn’t a tragedy, it was just a fact. 

To be faced with two extremely positive pregnancy tests was impossible. It had taken me over a week to believe it. That despite everything I knew about myself, about how my mother had raised me, I was pregnant. 

And I somehow had to tell my parents, and find a way to contact the Cullens. 

It went exactly how I expected - both my father and Simon were incredulous and there was a very emotional lecture when I confessed. About how this would change my life, how young I was, how they had wanted more for me. That I had a choice to make. 

That made me feel sick. Because my first instinct was abortion. I wasn’t even eighteen, my boyfriend and his family had disappeared without any contact details, and the combination of the baby’s biology was… messy at best. There was no guarantee my baby would make it full-term, let alone be able to function in human society. And maybe I was panicking, maybe I felt alone and very young and small and lost, especially with both my father and Simon looking at me with such exasperation. Maybe I wanted to fix this mistake, undo it, so they would stop looking at me like that. So that maybe they’d give me a hug and tell me that it was going to be okay.

But the practical side of my brain told me that it was incredibly dangerous to opt for an abortion now. That I risked drawing too much attention if I went in for any medical procedure - I had no idea what my bloodwork would look like in comparison to a humans. That any sort of official medical records outside of broken bones and a concussion were dangerous - especially without Jasper around to hack the hospital database to fudge anything abnormal. 

And the idea of a baby. Jasper’s baby. We’d never talked about children because they had never been an option. I had no idea whether he’d wanted children when he was human, whether if we had known it was possible. This decision felt too huge for me to make alone, but I had no way of calling him. And I really hated him for that; that Bella and Edward’s awkward drama was the reason that I was watching my father pour his second shot, and Simon just kept pacing. 

And what if… what if this was my only chance? What if I never saw Jasper again, and I got the abortion, and regretted losing my chance? If this wasn’t just the result of Mom lying to me about my body, but an actual one-in-a-million-chance? 

It was too much.

//

I tried so hard to conceal my pregnancy, which wasn’t easy when I weight 95 pounds soaking wet. For a while, my saving grace was layers of winter clothing, hiding the bump under sweaters and swing dresses. 

But nothing good lasts forever. The charming Lauren Mallory cornered me in the bathrooms towards the end of winter; the school had the heat so high I’d been sweating under all my layers and had slipped into the bathroom to peel off my jacket and sweater for a moment. And wearing only a t-shirt and jeans, there was no denying I was knocked up. Lauren had been delighted and scandalised by her discovery and the prospect of drama; she found out at the beginning of fourth period and by lunch the entire school knew. 

In a town as small as Forks, gossip is practically currency and I was a prime target from classmates, admin staff and teachers - everyone had an opinion, a though, a back-handed insult or joke to make. Lauren and some of her cronies had thought it was hilarious to make jokes and whispered behind my back, just loud enough so I could hear it. The other students treated me like a parasite, or a punchline. Several nasty jokes - and a betting chart on who the father was - were scrawled across the back of a toilet door. Some asshole broke into my locker and filled it with condoms.

It was tough. 

Bella treated me with more contempt than usual when she found out, obviously assuming that I’d hooked up with someone human after Jasper. She took to avoiding me, blatantly moving cafeteria tables when I tried to sit with her and talk. I wanted to shake her, to point out that the Cullens had left us and this loyalty to them was admirable but unhelpful, especially when the kid was Jasper’s. But Edward had somehow convinced her that I was an anomaly, a singular impossibility, or maybe a liar, and that vampires could not father children and that whatever Jasper and I had was less than her and Edward because of some imaginary hook-up I’d had with one of our classmates. 

Maybe I was a little bitter. 

But despite Bella’s very best efforts, everyone at school had correctly guessed that Jasper was the father. More than once, I heard people call me names under their breath, or people yelling things out at me, about being the reason the Cullens had left. 

I had a hard time caring, truly. My decision to keep my baby was not one I was regretting, but it wasn’t exactly how I imagined it when I had gone over my new reality. I was exhausted, sick, sore, and miserable. Carrying a half-vampire baby was hard work - angry bruises bloomed all over my stomach every time he kicked. I was eating twice as much as I had before, and yet I was losing weight. More than once, Simon had hooked me up to a drip to rehydrate me. Morning sickness was a joy that hung around long after my first – and second – trimester. Seizures, fainting, and dizzy spells were all common occurrences.

Dad was terrified for me, I could tell. Simon was handling the medical side of things as best he could, and Cynthia had become my champion - the one who was always reminding me how wonderful a baby would be, how everything would be better once he was born and I wasn’t so sick anymore. But Dad… he was the one that checked on me through the night when I was exhausted but the aches in my body prevented me from getting a wink of sleep; he was the one that made me snacks at one in the morning when I was starving. He was the one that was with me through every seizure, every fainting spell. 

“You’re going to be okay, Alice.” He would kiss my head and say that reassuringly, and I know he was trying to convince himself but he convinced me. I would be okay. 

//

By the time the summer arrived, I was as ready as I could be. My bedroom now sported a crib that Cynthia and I had painted blue, pushed against the wall next to my bed. I had learned to knit, and managed to make a wonky blanket, a hat, and a pair of lopsided socks. I’d bought most of the baby’s clothing and toys from thrift shops and online, to try and get my pitiful savings and my allowance to stretch far enough. Dad had bought the crib and a pram for me at a garage sale. Simon had bought the baby a fancy plush bear; a sign that things weren’t perfect but I was forgiven, at least.

The only good thing about losing so much weight was that I didn’t need to buy any maternity clothing. Almost everything still fit me fine. 

//

My baby boy, Oliver Brandon-Whitlock, was born at 3:11 am, five pounds even. He had slightly curly black hair, and big green eyes. And there was no mistaking who his father was - he looked just like Jasper. 

Simon had insist that I risk a hospital birth, terrified that something would go badly wrong if I opted for a home birth and, honestly, after all the pain I had been in over the last eight months, he didn't have to argue with me for long. I wanted all the drugs they could give me. And even my dreams didn’t warn me of the result - an emergency c-section three weeks early in the middle of the night. 

And he was beautiful. The second that they laid him on my chest, I knew him. He was mine and Jasper’s. Even though I had never gotten a clear view of him in my dreams and visions, I recognised his face. 

He seemed more alert than a typical newborn, his eyes meeting mine as he watched me carefully until they whisked him off to be tested and bathed, as the doctors stitched me back together. 

I’d like to say Ollie and I bonded in the first few hours of his life, that I held him and promised him the world and sang to him, but that would be a damn lie. I bullied the first nurse who walked into my room into helping me take a shower, and then I slept for fourteen hours without disturbance. My family, my doctors, the nurses… they all just let me sleep, assuming it was the emergency surgery that knocked me out. But I was just… so sad. Sad that I was alone. Sad that Jasper didn’t even know about Ollie. Sad that I’d brought a baby into such a messy, unplanned life. 

It wasn’t until Ollie was nearly a whole day old that I finally held him. 

// 

The plan that Dad and Simon had helped me make was that I would defer college for a year. And I would spend that year preparing to move out, just me and Ollie. Dad and Simon would pay me my allowance, plus a little extra for housekeeping whilst they were at work and Cynthia was at school. The logistics of how I would afford to live and study and raise Ollie were still fuzzy, but it was the start of a plan. A future. A life. 

//

Ollie wasn’t a big fan of sleep, unfortunately, and I blamed his father’s genes for that particular joy. It was a good night when I managed five hours of broken sleep, but it was hard to be mad when his little face lit up every time I appeared. His favourite place to sleep was on my chest, or if I dragged his crib in front of my bedroom window when the sun was shining. He liked it when I sang to him, cooing at me happily. 

Having Ollie in the house changed the mood, and I quickly became determined that I could do this alone. I had survived the pregnancy by myself, I could raise my baby by myself as well. I was the fuck-up, the one that had made this choice, so it was all on me. No one in my family would be woken in the middle of the night by Oliver’s cries. No one would have to deal with his laundry, with feeding or bathing or calming him. They could cuddle him and play with him, but everything else was up to me. 

I began mainlining sugar and black coffee like a crack fiend, and took to sleeping the rare times when Ollie did. Days blurred together a lot with exhaustion, but I had a routine. Not once did I miss doing the laundry or picking up the groceries or vacuuming. I didn’t want to give anyone the chance to tell me I was a shitty, terrible mother. That I was out of my depth and I was taking an innocent child down with me. 

I knew my Dad was worried, and Cynthia too. I overheard Simon tell my dad a few times that I was just trying to get into the rhythm of having a newborn, that he was watching me for depression. That I’d come to them if I was struggling. But it sounded like Simon was trying to convince himself, too.

And I really did fucking love my son. I loved how he gurgled at me when he woke from a nap; I loved the way he rubbed his face against his bear, how he giggled and squealed and just was - such a happy baby. I had taken hundreds of photographs of him, capturing very little grin, every giggle. 

//

At the end of July, Simon dropped the bomb. 

I’d had a long day - Ollie had decided to run a fever overnight, and spent most of the day grizzling and insisting on being held, not even allowing me to put him in the sling. I’d finally gotten him settled before dinner, and the exhaustion was weighing me down - it had been tempting to go to bed as soon as he’d fallen asleep. But I’d managed to make it to dinner, and was pushing my food around - I was both ravenous and too tired to eat. 

And then Simon carefully set down his fork and looked meaningfully at my father before he spoke. 

“The Cullens are back.”

My fork scraped against my plate when he said that, but I didn’t look up. I hadn’t been prepared for that - I simply wasn’t getting enough sleep to have a full vision, and hadn’t for months. They were there, just beyond my reach, but with Ollie waking up so many times at night… well, they’d just have to wait until he was sleeping through the night. 

“Apparently Esme Cullen didn’t like the city,” Simon continued, his voice gentle. 

“Or rather, Edward got over himself,” I murmured, taking a minuscule bite of rice and fish. It was easy to blame Edward and Carlisle for this; Edward’s word was family law and Carlisle gave in to Edward far too easily. Jasper’s choice to go with his family instead of staying with me was a raw spot that I avoided at all costs. I wasn’t… I wasn't angry but I was hurt and heartbroken and lost. Just thinking about Jasper made me feel like a wounded animal, cornered and trying to last out to protect itself from hurting more. 

And now they were back. I had somehow survived with a healthy baby without them, and they’d finally come back to Forks. After months of being so goddamn sick that I’d had to cut my hair off because it was so brittle it was snapping; after being on I.Vs to rehydrate me; fistfuls of vitamins every single day because my absorption was so low; Simon forcing fortified protein smoothies on me at every opportunity - he was still trying to do that, honestly. All the bad and ugly was done, so the Cullens had deemed it time to return. 

Maybe I was angrier than I realised. 

“What are you going to do?” Cynthia asked quietly, watching me. She’d been a rock during all of this - several of her friends had ditched her on their parents’ orders because of me, and she had said she didn’t care and didn’t want to be friends with judgemental assholes, but I still felt terrible. 

“Cynthia,” Dad said firmly, as I took another mouthful to avoid answering that question. I chewed slowly before I looked up. 

“I’m going to finish dinner, and have a shower, and go to bed,” I said calmly. “I am going to get some sleep. Tomorrow, Ollie and I are going to Port Angeles to pick up some stuff. On Saturday, I’ll go and talk to them.”

“Alone?” Cynthia was looking worried now. 

“Alone,” I said firmly. “I don’t want Oliver near them until we’ve had a talk.”

“No, I meant… do you want me or Dad or Pa to go with you? As back-up? You don’t have to do this alone.”

I looked at my younger sister, who was looking at me so kindly. Who hadn’t said a single negative thing to me since I got pregnant. I needed to tell her how much that meant to me. How I don’t know what I did to deserve that kind of love and loyalty, but I treasured it. 

“No. Not this time,” I said, sounding more certain than I felt. “Maybe the next one, when they know about Ollie.”

“Do you think…” Dad began before stopping. 

“What?” I asked, looking at him, and Dad sighed. 

“Do you think the Cullens will go for primary custody?” Dad asked. “Is Jasper likely to…”

“No,” I said with certainty. “Jasper won’t try to take Ollie away.” I was far more worried that the discovery we had a child would make him disappear again.

//

My so beautifully planned out visit to the Cullens did not transpire as I envisaged it. Which was mostly go over there looking gorgeous, being distant and perfectly articulate and giving them a piece of my mind. 

Instead, Simon was called in to cover a shift at the hospital at the last minute, and Dad had taken Cynthia to Port Angeles to see a movie. He’d offered to take Ollie with them, but I hadn’t wanted to spoil Cynthia’s plans - and Ollie had started crying when I went to leave - so I decided to bring Ollie with me. 

So instead of a blow-out and the insanely cute purple lace sundress I had planned on, I found myself walking up to the Cullens’ front door in a t-shirt and cut-offs with my son in the sling across my front, cooing away. 

I felt like I was sealing my doom when I knocked on the front door. Like everything had suddenly become much, much more real. 

“Alice?” Esme looked delighted when she opened the door - perfectly unchanged from when I had last seen her, except she was wearing a hideous yellow plaid dress that had to be destroyed at all costs - but then looked utterly perplexed as Ollie’s presence registered when he squealed. “Alice, Jasper’s going to be so pleased to see you, come in.”

“I’m glad you’re back,” I said, adrenaline running through me, as Esme escorted me through the house. 

“What’s that smell?” I could hear Emmett in the sitting room as we walked through. I wondered what Ollie would smell like to them - to me, he just smelt like baby, with a hint of the shampoo I used on him. Sweet and familiar. 

“Alice!” The whole family - and Bella - were gathered in the living room, turning to greet me as I walked in. 

“Hi,” I said awkwardly, with a smile that was more of a grimace as their smiles faded into confusion and shock, Ollie letting out a coo of delight at the prospect of eight brand new people who would, in his limited life experience, want to cuddle and fuss over him. 

“What…” Emmett said softly, as Bella shook her head at me when we made eye contact; judgemental pain in my ass.

“Oh my,” Carlisle managed, looking like he’d really like to be pouring himself a drink. 

But Rosalie was in my orbit in a split-second, her hands practically twitching. “What’s his name?” she asked, watching as Ollie looked around the room in curiosity.

“Oliver,” I said, my hand falling protectively to his head. 

“Can… can I hold him?” Rosalie looked at me, her eyes oddly hopeful. 

Oliver let out a sound of enthusiasm at the sound of Rose’s voice, one little hand reaching towards her. 

“Sure,” I said, slightly surprised. I knew Rose’s complicated history with children, but I also assumed she’d be much, much crueler to me. That she’d be one of the worst of the Cullens to deal with. I carefully lifted Ollie out of the sling and passed him over into Rose’s waiting arms. As she cradled him, the most beautiful smile lit her face. 

“Aren’t you handsome?” she said, and Ollie beamed at her, his chubby hands reaching out for her hair. “He’s perfect, Alice. Aren’t you, little man?”

Suddenly, there was a gentle hand on my shoulder, and Jasper was standing next to me. I forced myself to meet his gaze and resist the urge to fling my arms around him, slap him, or burst into tears.

His expression was peaceful, utterly calm. But the look in his eyes was complete heartbreak and misery. 

“Congratulations,” he murmured. “I’m happy for you.” I could see it so clearly, that whatever he was assuming - that I had moved on - was the end for us. That the situation was utterly hopeless for him. 

And the righteous indignation rose its ugly head. He couldn’t look at me like that, as if he had lost something.

I scowled, crossing my arms over my chest. “You and I need to have a talk,” I said flatly, as Rosalie and Esme absconded with Ollie to perch on the couch together. Ollie was the center of attention, and loving every moment. Carlisle and Emmett were crowded around the couch, too, watching as Ollie examined the world around him, occasionally squealing or cooing.

“We don’t have to. I understand,” he said, and the unhappiness was practically seeping from him. It made sense, honestly. The sight of his mate with an infant that - in his eyes - was someone else’s child. The human side of him might have academically understood that I could move on, but the instinctual part… 

I was actually surprised that Jasper hadn’t recognised Ollie yet. Vampire instincts were so sharp and almost animalistic - I had assumed Jasper would recognise Ollie by scent. Or the fact he was a tiny clone. I was practically a damn Xerox machine. 

“You missed all the really fun parts – like telling my parents. They were not happy. And finishing high school looking like I had a watermelon under my dress. All the judgement and gossip. Oh, and labour. Sixteen hours, and then they had to take me to surgery because I was too small,” I said. “Next time, a phone number or an email address would be super helpful.”

“What?” Edward hissed, but I was too busy watching emotions flicker across Jasper’s face – confusion, hope, fear, relief, and sheer bewilderment. 

I marched over to the couch and plucked Ollie from Rosalie, before handing him to a suddenly wide-eyed Jasper, who held him away from his body. Luckily, Ollie was cheerful and just blew a spit-bubble at him, before sucking on his hand.

“Happy father’s day,” I said, and if Jasper could have, I think he would have fainted. 

“W-what?” he managed, looking down at Ollie, who stared back. 

“What?” Edward said, jumping up in shock.

“He’s Jasper’s?” Esme gasped. 

“Did any of you actually look at him? Of course he’s Jasper’s,” Rosalie sniffed. “That’s not how you hold a baby, Jasper.” She was at his side, trying to resist taking Ollie back, but I could see it was a losing battle. 

Everyone just stared at Ollie, who was done with all the strangers looking at him, whilst being held so awkwardly, and let out a wail that had both Esme and Rosalie cooing at him, and all the men looking alarmed, as I scooped him back up and let him rest his head on my shoulder.

“He was born three months ago, but he’s definitely advanced,” I said, quietly, pulling a pacifier out of my pocket when he began to whine. “It’s been hard to hide that.”

Jasper was clearly not yet processing anything beyond the word, ‘father’, so Carlisle came to the rescue. 

“It was a normal pregnancy?” he asked, as Ollie whined, snuggling against me. 

I let out a bark of laughter. “There was nothing normal about it. It lasted the longest eight months of my life,” I said frankly. “It was hard. I… I didn’t think we’d both make it at times.” I could feel Jasper moving closer to me, a protective gesture. 

“But you and Oliver are both healthy now?” Carlisle looked fascinated by the concept, and I didn’t want my baby to become an experiment. 

“For the most part,” I replied. No one could deny that I was at least ten pounds underweight, and Simon still hadn’t ruled out postpartum depression. He had me at the Baby Clinic every Wednesday to chat with the nurses, just to make sure. And Ollie had just recovered from what I was assuming was a mild allergy to our fabric softener. 

“And he’s human?” Esme asked, her eyes soft and her hands clasped in front of her. 

“He’s advanced,” I said, rocking him as he grizzled at me. “He’s already laughing and grabbing things.” Dad and Simon hadn’t commented on that aspect, and I was grateful for it. “The nurse said he looked closer to four or five months when she saw him last.”

“He’s beautiful - just like his mother.” Jasper’s voice was low, for my ears only, and I turned to smile at him. He was looking at me with this devoted look, one that he usually only wore when we were alone. 

“Sit down Alice,” Esme said, motioning for me to move to the couch. “Why don’t you tell us everything?” 

I moved carefully, Rosalie half orbiting me, but Ollie was dozing now. 

“How is this even possible?” Edward finally blurted out, loud enough that Ollie let out a whine around his pacifier, and I rubbed his back to soothe him. 

“When a man and woman love each other very much,” I intoned sarcastically and Edward scowled at me. “Edward, Jasper and I had sex and I got pregnant. I know you’ve convinced yourself and Bella that I’m some kind of miracle or impossible occurrence or a liar, but…”

“He’s not even a little bit like us?” Edward shot back. 

Jasper let out a rumble of displeasure and Bella moved closer to Edward. 

“He hasn’t been a big fan of sleep,” I admitted. “He doesn’t seem to need much.”

Jasper was sitting beside me now, one hand oh so carefully reaching out to brush a curl from Ollie’s face with a look of wonder. 

“I want to say I’m still mad at you all. I’m furious, I’m hurt and I don’t trust you not to pull a stunt like this again,” I said flatly, making eye-contact with Carlisle. “I’m here because Ollie deserves both of his parents.” And I still love his idiot father. 

“Of course. If we had known…” Carlisle began apologetically. 

“No. It doesn’t matter if I was pregnant or not. You should have respected me - and Bella - enough to talk to us. To communicate like adults. Left us a way to contact you if we needed help or just closure. It was cruel,” I shot back. “Edward shouldn’t get to dictate your entire family’s lifestyle based on whatever pang of guilt or nihilism he gets. I won’t let him do that to me or to Oliver.”

“Edward truly thought it was the best…” Esme began.

“No. He thought about himself. He didn’t think about us at all. About Bella sitting in a room for months, so depressed she was practically catatonic. He didn’t think about me being taken to the E.R. six months pregnant because I was having back to back seizures,” I said calmly. “He didn’t think about the fact that Victoria and Laurent are still out there, and we both have a target on our backs. Edward decide to run away rather than face his feelings and problem solve. We were an inconvenience to a life dedicated to self-indulgent misery, so it was easier to run.”

Silence. 

“I mean…” Emmett began, and everyone glared at him. 

“Catatonic?” Edward turned to Bella, horror on his face, and Bella averted her gaze.

“Yup. All through winter. I did my best to be a good friend, I understood how bad it hurt to be left behind,” I said sweetly. “Supportive, understanding, the works. Thanks so much for having my back during the pregnancy, Bella.” My tone was poisonous and Emmett whistled. 

“Some unresolved issues?” He offered, and Rosalie scowled at him. 

“Thanks to Bella’s constant protests about who knocked me up, there was a betting schedule on the back of the girl’s bathroom door right up until graduation,” I said. “Really made me feel supported.” Like I would have for her, if Edward had ever deigned to touch her. 

“You were alone?” Jasper asked me, and I could almost feel his irritation. 

“Cynthia had my back from day one, without question,” I said. “Dad was onboard before Simon was, but I think Simon … I think he was so worried about the medical side of things that it came across as anger. I was pretty sick.”

“But at school?” Ollie was limp against my shoulder now, completely asleep. I could hear him sucking on his pacifier as we spoke; a comforting sound to me. 

“When the estranged daughter of one of Forks’ most out gay couples gets pregnant in senior year and the family of the baby’s father leaves town with less than two days notice, the gossip is pretty intense. Everyone has an opinion, and most of them aren’t good,” I shrugged. “It’s over now. I graduated, Ollie’s healthy, I’m alive.”

“We can help with the medical bills,” Esme blurted out, and it was a sweet gesture. I knew - even before I came over - that Esme would want to fix things, to heal hurts. But some of them would take time to fade; there was still a lingering urge to start screaming at them. 

“Of course,” Carlisle said. “I will arrange to have that taken care of on Monday. Your parents shouldn’t have to deal with the entire financial burden of a newborn shared by both our families.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I wanted to refuse because of my pride but honestly, Dad and Simon’s savings had taken a hit from my pregnancy - especially with them so carefully putting aside money for when I did move to college. It wasn’t like I could live in the dorms with a baby. Not to mention that Cynthia would be headed to college in three years, and I didn’t want her college fund to take a hit on my account. The Cullens had gross amounts of money - my hospital bills would be loose change to them. 

“Anything you need, Alice. At all,” Jasper looked up at me. 

“Thank you,” I said finally, wondering exactly how the conversation would look when I asked Jasper for some kind of goddamn allowance to keep Ollie in diapers and pacifiers. God, my life was ridiculous. 

//

Standing out by the car, I carefully put Ollie into the carrier in the backseat before I turned to Jasper. 

“I’m sorry for being so dramatic and coming over …” I began but he shook his head. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out to cradle my face so gently, and I absently leaned into his touch. “For everything.”

“It’s going to take time,” I said honestly. “If you want to try again, if you want to be in Oliver’s life as his father… it’s going to be take time for me to trust that you’ll be there when I turn around every single time.”

“Alice…”

“You need to make that choice; I made mine a year ago. Whether you’re up for raising him with all the human needs that goes with that, all the late nights and puking and diapers and crying. The bad and the good. You can’t just disappear without communicating. We would have to be a team,” I said in a rush.

“And if you and I are going to be together again, we need to take it slow. We need to build up that trust again, we need to figure out how to balance us and him, I need to figure out how to be a mom, if you want to be involved, you need to figure out how to be a father…”

“Alice.” Jasper took both my hands. “I don’t need time to decide. I want you both. Without question. All the bad and sad and ugly pieces. You are my family.”

I couldn’t resist it then; I leant forward to wrap my arms around him. “I missed you, you dumbass,” I mumbled into his shirt. Maybe I got a little teary, but when I pulled back I wasn’t sniffling. 

“You should come over tomorrow, and we’ll have a talk alone. Work out how this is going to look,” I said. “Let you hold Ollie without Rosalie looming over your shoulder.”

Jasper let out a chuckle. “I think Esme was over the other shoulder,” he said. 

“You should see my family with him, it’s ridiculous,” I sighed, and then checked my phone. “I need to go, or his routine is going to be out and I will pay the price tonight.” 

His gaze wandered to Ollie, sleeping comfortably in his carseat. “What’s the W stand for?”

“Hmm?” I turned around; Ollie’s blanket was tucked over his legs, the wonky monogram that Cynthia had carefully stitched into the fabric visible. “Oliver Whitlock Brandon.”

Jasper’s immediately looked up at me, surprise written all over his face.

“We can change it. I didn’t want to hyphenate incase you wanted to opt out,” I said quickly. “And I didn’t want to give him family names because I wanted him to be his own person. But we can get his birth certificate reissued.”

“Whitlock,” Jasper said. “Not Hale. Not Cullen.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Because he’s not a Hale or a Cullen. He’s a Whitlock,” I said. “We can make it Brandon-Whitlock if you want. You can pick out a middle name or-”

Jasper leant down and kissed me suddenly, lifting me til I was on my tiptoes. 

“You are perfect,” he said as he broke the kiss, my head spinning. 

//

Jasper looked pained as Ollie vomited his entire breakfast down Jasper’s shirt. I laughed, reaching out for him. 

“Welcome to fatherhood,” I said cheerfully, wiping Ollie’s mouth. He was still spotless, thankfully. “A lot more puke than you’d ever expect. Throw your shirt in the hamper, and I’ll take the laundry down.”

Jasper stripped off and honestly, it made me rethink how slow I wanted to take rebuilding our relationship. I had been the one to put a pin in our sex life - especially until Carlisle could figure out a functioning form of birth control for us - but seeing the boy half-naked in my bedroom was definitely testing me. 

“Alice, can I borrow your charger?” My bedroom door flung open, and Cynthia walked in, still texting before looking up to see Jasper shirtless, me in my underwear, and Ollie babbling in my arms. 

“Huh.” Cynthia looked Jasper up and down before flouncing over to perch on the end of my bed. “No wonder you ended up pregnant.”

“Cynthia!”

Jasper was smirking, as I put one hand on my hip as I faced my sister.

“What? I speak the truth. If you took a photo of all that,” Cynthia gestured towards Jasper who was pulling on a clean shirt, “and showed all those judgemental bitches who question ‘how someone ends up pregnant at 17 in this day and age’ exactly what you’re working with, I think they’d get it. Hell, I think they’d thank you for continuing the gene pool.”

“Knocking. Have you heard of it?” I asked through gritted teeth, as Jasper took Ollie back from me. 

“I need a charger,” she said, holding up her phone.

“Ugh!” I stormed over to my desk. “This is the gift I give my son. To be an only child.”

“Thank you Alice,” Cynthia simpered at me as I tossed her the charger. Well, threw it in the direction of her head. 

“We’re not going to have any more?” Jasper asked me, sounding wounded, and I span around to stare at him in horror, Cynthia looking between us like a tennis match. 

I was about to lose my temper on both of them before Jasper cracked and started laughing and Cynthia joined in. 

“You’re all terrible,” I informed them, right as Ollie started laughing too. 

—

[asksoldieron]

Soldier On Says: Meet Your Blorbos!

Here is a menu for the ask blog! It's not complete. All of these characters live in my brain. All of 'em. And me. Obviously. Sometimes. This is a quick reference for the main cast, and myself.

The Author: Me. OOC. Only not entirely OOC because I'm autistic and you're not gonna make me stop masking. I exist on the internet and I have many names! I'll answer to Wyvr, Wy, Zero, Zee, The Author, NKOF, Mx. Foole and probably "Hey!" if you phrase it right. Pronouns are xe/they/it, or whatever, just don't gimme a gender. I'm sick of it.

Cousin Violet: My in-story avatar, the embodiment of causality. She has a sick sense of humour. I swear I've met her IRL. She'll only tell you what she wants you to know, and nothing more. Answers to Violet, Cousin Violet and she/her.

Baron Yowie: My other in-story avatar. We haven't seen much of him. He's the embodiment of chaos. Violet is the page and he's got the ink. He'll also only tell you what he wants you to know, but he won't be as nice about it. Answers to The Baron, or Dr. Ink and he/him.

From Hyacinth's House...

Erik Weitz: That kid with the metal eye. The default version is all gown up, but I can age him down if you need. Answers to Erik and he/him.

Mordecai Eidel: Erik's uncle, the depressive street musician. Answers to Mordecai, sometimes Em, and he/him. If you call him Morph and you are NOT Diane, you are in for a verbal beatdown. (Gentle reader, you are definitely not Diane.)

Hyacinth: The medic and defacto leader of the house, although this is often contested. No last name. Answers to Hyacinth or Cin and she/her.

Barnaby Graham: One of Hyacinth's ex-guardians. He's dead. I can get him for you, but he will not be thrilled. He knows he exists in a constructed universe for the amusement of others and he's so done with it. Barnaby or Mr. Graham, he/him, and if you call him Gray he will punch you.

Milo Rose: The shy guy with glasses. He prefers not to "talk", so expect text without quotemarks, and occasional images. Answers to Milo, and he/him.

Ann Rose: Milo's alter ego and best friend, the one who sings and wears dresses. Answers to Ann or Annie and she/her. This is a Calvin and Hobbes situation, folks. None of us will give you a definite answer on whether she's real or not.

Calliope Otis: An artist. Not quite Milo's wife, but they decided they didn't need to get married. Just Calliope and she/her.

Lucy Otis: I know I did that one post where the baby version of her spoke, but you don't need to talk to the baby version. She's 11 now, she can talk for herself. Answers to Lucy or Lu and she/her.

Dave Otis: Lu's little brother. He's six now. Prefers Dave or Davy and he/him.

Euterpe Otis: Calliope's little brother. Kind of a screwup, but willing to help out with the kids in an emergency. Euterpe or Uncle Terp and he/him.

Maggie D'Iver: Erik's friend/girlfriend. "Maggie" is fine, don't call her "Magnificent" unless you're her mom or the cops. She/her. Again, I will age her down if necessary, but the default is an adult now.

Brigadier General Glorious D'Iver: Maggie's mom, Sanaam's wife, and a former tykebomb. Better call her General D'Iver or the General if you know what's good for you. She/her.

Sanaam Sadiq: Maggie's father and the General's husband. He's a sailor, we don't see him as much as we'd like. Call him Sanaam, only his wife calls him Captain. He/him.

Diane Desdoux: Our Monster. In-story, the others don't know she lives with them, not yet. We'll fudge it a little for the blog. Just call her Diane, and she/her.

Others...

John Green-Tara: Erik's friend and reluctant kidnapper. He's under a lot of strain. Better call him John, if you call him Johnny he might scream. He/him.

Seth Zusman: The street school teacher and Diane's nephew. "Seth" is just fine, for friends or students. He/him.

Soup: Otherwise known as Anthony Rinaldi, but he would like to be called "The Fox." He will answer to "Soup," but he would LIKE to be The Fox. He/him. Default version is an adult, but I can age him back down if you need.

Cerise Poirier: Ann's friend from the club where they both work. She's a dancer. Cerise or Miss Poirier and she/her.

David Valentine: Hyacinth's other guardian. Seems to be a god now? David, David Valentine, Saint Valentine (he wishes) or Glitterslut. He/him.

And there are more!

But you'll have to read the darn story!

[geminimoonbeamx]

Reality Bites: Dazed&Confused 6/6

A/N: Better late then never, right? 

Warnings: This is probably the most tame of my chapters. Hella emotional tho, Taking a peek into the teenage boy psyche always needs a disclaimer. 

Parings: Steve Harrington x Plus Sized Reader

Summary: Steve attempts, messily, at making things right. 

Chapter Six: There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

“I asked for chocolate sauce, dickwad!” 

The angry, red faced man is huffing, shoving the sundae across the register and into Steve’s face. It’s very much lacking fudge sauce. 

Fuck, not again. 

Before he can make even more of a mess- Robin intervenes. 

“We’re sorry about that sir, how about we get you a brand new one. On the house” 

The sandy haired girl shoots him a sharp look as she takes over for him, handling yet another unsatisfied customer. It seems like there was a never ending percussion of those lately, Steve couldn't even perform his duties. His minimum wage, minimum brain power duties. 

Heading to the backroom, he’ll get his head straight as he takes inventory. Take a breather, come back better, he recalls Coach's words. He wonders just how long he’s going to need to be benched for. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Robin enters stomping, the door slamming shut behind her “I cant run this shop all on my own, you know?” 

“I know!” Steve protests, holding up the clipboard. He is working, just…not well. He hasn't been sleeping very well, either. “I’m-I just? I know” 

Guilt is a heavy emotion, he remembers overhearing that sentiment from some quack shrink as he sat between his parents in her oversized office. His mother had swallowed hard and his father had wrung his hands and Steve? Steve couldn't have been older then ten, and yet he was the only one who absorbed any of it. Never forgot 

“So you fucked up” Robin starts bluntly, talking over his groans “With the cheerleader, right?” 

There’s no use lying to her “Yeah, pretty bad actually” 

“So fix it. You’re obviously all” she broadly gestures to him with her hand and a semi disgusted face as she takes over inventory  “Screwed up about it. Go full white knight on her. Isn't that what girls want? Jeeze Harrington, you’ve dated like half the girls in Hawkins- why do you suck so bad at this?” 

“Robin…I really messed up” 

That seems to catch her attention. She stops, mid air, re-shelving an industrial sized canister of butterscotch chips “Like, how bad?” 

“Pretty fucking bad” He admits, 

Steve’s hesitant to tell her because he knows, he knows how it sounds. Knows that what he did was beyond shitty and anyone who hears of it is going to think he's scum of the earth.. He musters the courage and tells her anyway, well most of it.

“You’re a real dick. Do you know how many known registered sex offenders there are in the state of Indiana alone?” 

He grimaces, because yeah-

 He thought about that, that and all the other things in those woods that could’ve killed you. Imagined you face down in a ditch. Running from creatures that shouldn't exist. That he reassured you didn't- 

-But only after he was already driving away. The anger and liquor as potent as it was toxic. It clouded any better judgement that he’d gained in the past few years.  He made it about halfway home before his BMW had screeched to a stop, tires half left hot on the asphalt in perfect black donuts.

By the time he got back to the quarry, you were already long gone. 

From the party. From his life. 

He’d only caught glimpses of you since. Flashes of swaying pony tails and tensed shoulders. You’d made it a point to stay as far away from him as possible, the entire mall frigid in your wake. 

“Have you tried talking to her?” Robin wonders. Trying to be helpful, in her own inexperienced way. 

“Hah. Have you?” Steve shakes his head, leaning against the cool tile of the wall “She’s not exactly the easiest person to talk to, On a regular day. So” 

“You sound like your scared of her” 

Steve totally is. “I’m not” 

“Then go apologize for being an absolute garbage can of a boyfriend. Bring Flowers and grovel. Alot. ” Robins big brown eyes roll into the back of her head “And seriously, Steve, if you don't start helping me out here, I’m going to HR” 

“Do we have one of those?” 

Robin goes out the same way she came in, the door slamming heavy, but not before giving him a look like she really considers him to be the stupidest person alive. 

Steve thinks, in that moment, that Robin might be his best friend. 

Doesn't he have a type. 

Two days later Steve musters the courage to talk to you. Finally. 

Gives himself an entire pep talk in his car while he’s parked outside of your house. His pep talks are famous, had taken the basketball team all the way to State. Baseball to nationals. You’re capable of what ever you set your mind to, he’d preach. You’re the only thing holding you back. 

Lets go kick some ass. Team. 

The sun is harsh and bright. Record highs as it inches closer to the 4th, the towns in a total buzz. Giddy and busy as they prepare for celebrations- that big festival the mayors throwing seemed to having everyone upon their ante. Go big or go home. 

“What like, with me?” you questioned him, the last time you’d laid together. In his bed, that Friday before the cursed night at lovers quarry. Your hair everywhere and naked from the waist up and propped against his favorite pillow. He’d happily sacrificed it for that view. 

The light from the movie plays tricks on your face as you paid more attention to it then you did him. Your eyelashes a mile long, fluttering as your eyes follow the fast moving animation. 

“Mhmm. Should be a good time”

“I guess?”

“I’m supposed to be driving the kids, since Dustin gets back that week-

You snort, judgmental and amused. Without even looking at him “So what? We’re co-babysitting? That sounds super fun” 

“It will be. We’ll watch the fireworks. I’ll buy you a corn dog-“

“Steve” you hiss as he slides an arm around your middle and tugs hard, bringing you in as close as possible. 

“-maybe finger you on the Ferris wheel” he whispers into your cheek, nosing at the side of your face “What’da say?”

“That you’re a total perv. There's gonna be nothing but families there” 

“Then you’ll have to wear that skirt- that jean one? With the flowers? No one will notice if I” 

He’d gotten a face full off pillow and a half huffed maybe. 

The carnival’s a pipe dream at this point and he knew it. 

Even getting you to talk to him was a long shot. Get this, Steve sucks at calculus and slinging ice cream- but women? He excelled at women. Ever since he could remember, they’d fawned over him. Cherub cheeks pinched and fluffy hair pat from an age young enough that it definitely gave him a complex. 

All it took was an apology, a half decent one. A cheap bouquet. A kiss-

That last part was not an option, he’d like to keep his teeth, thank you very much. 

The other two wouldn't do either, no. Not with you. With you there’s really only one thing that could remedy this whole clusterfuck of a situation. 

Armed with an arrangement that the florist deemed “she’d love” and a shake, Steve decides it’s time to tell you the truth. 

 Mreow

The huge cat knocks against his shins, screeching as he climbs the steps of the wrap around porch. Huh, at least someone still likes him. Steve tries to juggle the roses and running his hands through thick fur and almost eats concrete for his trouble Bowie’s uncaring of his plight, of course, and trots away tail swaying. 

What-

“Mother fucker!”

Oh, you seem like you're in a good mood. This is gonna go so well. 

He follows the litany of curses, around the side of your house. He’d never been back this way, actually if he really thought about it- he’d rarely seen your place in the sunlight. Picked you up for work once or twice and snuck out through the front door, but that was about it. The thought is equivalent to sucking on a fresh lemon. 

The side gate is tall and formidable. And unlocked. 

He doesn't know what he’d expected; but the sight that greets him surely wasn't it. You’re hunched over a huge rose bed- wielding a pair of garden shears. Going to town on the the bush, foliage flying in all directions. 

It's chaos, and it roots Steve still for a moment. He’s debating on whether this just showing up thing was a good idea. He could’ve called, really he probably should of- 

“Oh my god” 

You’d been too busy beheading the rose bush to notice him, but when you do your eyes go wide and you nearly fall over, before bolting up, fist tight around the extremely sharp shears. So sharp even, that the sunshine seems to gleam off of them. 

Huh. 

“Put the weapon down” Steve jokes, trying to make light. Maybe “slowly” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

And yeah, he deserves that. 

“I came to apolo-”

“Get out, Steve” 

That he had expected. 

“Wait, we really need to talk about this-” 

“No we really don’t” You protest. You’re gonna bolt, it’s like your go to. It’s part of the reason he wanted to do this here. At your home. Where could you run?

“Well I need to talk. And I need to tell you how sorry I am, and- I uh. I need to tell you about some other things, too. Some really important things.”

Your arms are crossed over your chest and you glare up at him. If you could set him on fire with your eyes, he’d be burnt to a crisp. But beneath that, subtle and barley hidden, he can see how uncomfortable you are. 

“Here, these are for you” He holds out his hand in offering. Peace. Parlay. He’ll take anything right now. “Pistash-ahoy. Your favorite, right?”

“You’re not gonna fucking go away, are you?” you groan, finally. After a long moment of glaring at the flowers. The shake. Steve, and his existence. 

“I will, if you want me to- after wetalk though. Just, hear me out. Cause I’ve been trying-“

“I just don't think we have anything to talk about. You made that crystal when you left me at the quarry” your voice shakes, just a fraction “ It’s not like we we’re dating or anything though. So it’s whatever” 

“It’s not whatever. You keep saying that, like you aren't always pissed at me

“You left me in the woods, anyone would be pissed about that? 

“I was a Jack ass back in the woods, really, and everything I said came out side ways but not all of it was bullshit-“

Your eyes are an intense squint.

“-leaving you. I shouldn’t have done that. I really- fuck okay. I wasn’t mad at you, not totally. I ran into Billy like two seconds before I found you and shit just got…out of hand”

Billy had been vicious, eyes dancing in the shadows of the bonfire. He’d slung an arm over Steve shoulder, pulled him tight. 

To passer bys it looked friendly. Maybe the feud was finally over, dust beneath the bleachers of Hawkins High

“You think breaking your nose was the worst I could do to you, Harrington?” He’d said it feather light, “What would your girlfriend do if she knew what you liked to do at night with little kids?”

“You’re batshit. I don’t know what you’re talking about”

Billy’s grin had been all too canine. 

“Yeah? You gonna play that hand? I don’t know what you're talking about” the sandy blond fake whined “See if that’ll work with anyone. Whatever you and Max we’re doing with the band of freaks, I’ve kept it to myself. Ya know, like a good older brother does. It would suck if someone started digging into why the Crawleys fields got set on fire- I still haven’t stopped picking husks outta my rims”

It’s a threat. Obvious and sharp and Steve knows it’s watery and weak. Hopper would squash anything that leaned him or the kids over the line into the wrong side of the law, wouldn’t he? 

“Fuck off, Billy. You don’t have crap and you know it” 

“You know what I do have? Nothing to lose. You on the other hand…you’ve got a lot going for you here in this hell hole, huh? I’d hate to fuck it up, really” Billy’s grip goes choking tight, just for a moment his voice even and lower than he’s ever heard. And then Steve’s released, head spinning and Billy’s put distance between them. Like it never happened.  

“Keep your bitch on a leash. Oh and Steve- you’ll have to come practice at the Rec. You learn to plant those feet yet?” With a tip of a red solo cup, Billy’s disappeared back into the crowd. 

“So what you lost a dick measuring contest to scumbag Billy so you took it out on me? Fuck you”

No.

No?

Yes.

“I should’ve never left you there, and I won’t do anything like that. Ever again. I tried to come back- I wasn’t thinking about how dangerous those woods are” 

You shake your head, the woods are fine. It was whatever,

“No they are. I shouldn’t have lied to you. There’s also of…stuff-“ a decades worth of history “between us, that we need to square. I know. But I don’t think we can do that if I’m not honest with you” 

“Lied to me about what?”

“I’m going to start this off by saying that I could go to jail for telling you this. Bonafied federal prison. I signed NDA’s. Like. A lot of them”

Steve sighs, goes and places the shake and the bouquet on a random porch step. He needs to wring his hands, flex his fingers.

“What the fuck, Steve?”

“A couple years ago, when Will Byers went missing? He didn’t just get lost in the woods”

Your face is screwed up, brows knitted. Nose scrunched. 

“He went somewhere else. Here but not here, some kind of flip side alternate dimension. Hawkins Lab fucked with some major shit they shouldn’t have and opened a portal, I mean, there’s a buncha’ science-y stuff that happened too, obviously.”

“You’re lying. You’re fucking with me-“

“No-“

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m really not. I’m finally telling you the truth. Like I should’ve that night in the car.

Because you’re not going crazy Y/n and neither is Bean.

Will got lost inside, bot other things…creatures, they got let out. Lots of them. And we thought when Eleven, this uh little mutant girl that Dustin calls an X-man, Mike Wheeler's girlfriend actually-“

He cuts himself off because he’s worried you’re gonna faint.

Genuinely.

You’ve gone pale and are staring at him horror struck in a way that he’s never seen in real life. Reminiscent of black and white horror films that played on static ridden channels. 

Pretty girls as they hid from the slasher.

Mina Harker before Dracula sinks his teeth. 

“Y/n? I’m sorry, I just. I had to tell you. I should’ve- before”

“Did it kill Barb? The…thing?”

Barb Hollands funeral was on a sunny day, nearly a year after she’d gone missing. Her parents cried, Jonathan and Nancy stood intertwined and Steve? Steve hadn’t swam in his pool since.

Guilt is a heavy emotion.

He nods. 

You might cry, you should. Instead, you’re barley even breathing. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s going to be okay, okay?” He rambles, heavily. You’re okay. He’s okay, everyone’s alive and it’s going to stay that way. He can tell Hopper? He’ll do anything. As long as you just stop looking at him like that. 

“Babe-“ he reaches out

“Don’t” you hiss, “don’t touch me. You need to leave” 

“Come on-“

“I’m serious, Steve! Get the fuck out-“ you shove at his chest hard. 

Plant your feet Harrington. 

“Go! I don’t want- any of- this isn’t real” you keep shoving. Eyes finally welling. Hysteria bubbling “this isn’t real. You fucking promised”

You collapse on the wide steps of the back porch, sending the shake sideways, sticky and melted and pooling pistachio green beside you. Almost on you. Not that you care, head in your hands he doesn’t even know if you notice.

Steve had a panic attack, once. 

Eighth grade. 

His parents, both of them, had made a beyond rare appearance at a baseball game. He’d fucked it up, butter fingers and nerves and had hid in the locker room. Inconsolable and terrified, much as you are now. 

No one had been there for him. No one had held him together while he took two steps outside of his body. Scared shitless of what that third would do. 

Steve sits on the ground beside you. 

He won’t leave. He’s stuck, shackled. Settled. 

Planted.

I cant believe were done. I’ll miss this story, miss Steve and Billy and the world of Hawkins. But I’ll miss Jelly Bean and Princess Peach the most. @allaboardthereadingrailroad​, thank you for creating this with me. On to the next venture!

[ridestomars]

ever since i saw this tiktok, my brain cannot stop thinking about steve parenting/being the kids older brother. this is a concept that is so dear to me.

i just know that when steve was working at scoops, he would always give the kids free ice cream as a reward for their every achievement, as small as they may be. mike rode the bus for the first time and survived? he deserves a milkshake! lucas made noodles and they turned out to be edible? it’s sundae time! max got a B+ on her math exam? the whole stock of chocolate ice cream belongs to her now! and don’t even get me started on the dirty looks he would receive from the customers when he let the kids cut in line!! i think that by the end of each month, steve would receive a letter from the company saying that they received 10+ complaints about a “gang of kids terrorizing the store”.

he doesn’t care because screw company policy and everything else that they tell him to do; and he couldn’t care less about the customers complaining that their sundaes are small compared to the sundae he just made for that curly haired kid.

oh, but lemme tell you: the kids will take advantage of that and will always imply that steve’s playing favorites. and poor captain harrington will comply to their manipulation because he :( doesn’t :( have :( a :( favorite !!!! he loves them all equally. so whenever max tells him that “dustin’s ice cream is bigger than mine!”, he will immediately scoop more ice cream into her cup and add more fudge, so that he won’t have any more complaints. which usually never works because if one of the kids notices it (and they will!), they’ll bug him until he almost runs out of ice cream.

meanwhile, robin watches the whole ordeal by the store’s counter with a “what the fuck?” look on her face. ah, tuesdays at scoops…

steve masterlist | main masterlist | navigation

𖤐 hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep ─ currently accepting requests for concepts & moodboards for eddie munson and steve harrington.

[tanyawritesstories]

Love Comes With A Hat | Kung Lao x Reader

So this fic was actually based off of a dream I had a few months ago. It's based off the movie characters looks because that's the way I saw it in my brain. It's the first fic I've written for a Mortal Kombat character so I hope y'all like it and that it's accurate.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: technically there's smut but it's brief, pregnancy, drinking, angst, feelings, pregnant reader, Bo Rai Cho is a warning all his own

•••

You stared at the test in your hand, not experiencing the emotions you expected. You were shocked more than anything, it had only been one random night. It was an accident. An accident you remembered quite vividly. It had started as just a few innocent drinks with Kung Lao, Liu Kang, and their master Bo Rai Cho. But if you learned anything about Bo Rai Cho that night, it was that he liked to drink and he liked to buy drinks for everyone. That's how you and Kung Lao both ended up more drunk than you wanted to be, and if you had learned anything about Kung Lao that night it was that he was a flirty drunk. A very flirty drunk. You were too tipsy to care about your respectful relationship with the Shaolin monk and just happy that your friend was showing you some romantic attention. You shamelessly flirted back and for some reason Liu Kang, who you later learned wasn't actually drunk and just kept lying about the supposed vodka soda he was drinking, let you and his best friend continue to get more and more handsy with one another.

At the end of the night, Liu had dropped off you and Kung Lao at their temporary earthrealm lodge and gone to take Bo Rai Cho home since he was blackout drunk. At least you and Kung Lao could still stand. The second the door was closed and locked, he was on you. His hat was thrown to the side as his lips moulded perfectly with yours. You could taste all the alcohol he'd consumed and it only intoxicated you more. After spending half the time at the bar with his hand up your skirt, Kung Lao wanted the real thing. He had picked you up and set you on the table, laying you down and stripping everything off your bottom half. He eagerly explored the treasure between your legs with his fingers. Even when drunk, Kung Lao was precise with his movements. He brought you to the edge with just his fingers before licking your juices off of them and taking off just enough clothing to free his member and plunge it deep within you.

Everything was a blur after that. He was thick and scraped every euphoric nerve in your body with his movements. Your muscles burned and twitched with every groan and growl he let out, his mouth right next to your ear. It wasn't long before that delicious pressure built back up within you and snapped with a few well aimed thrusts. You remember the warm feeling spread through you as Kung Lao released inside, both of you too drunk to worry about protection beforehand. You laid in an uncomfortable position on the table until Kung Lao pulled out of you and stumbled to the bathroom. You were able to get up and clean yourself off a little, put your skirt back on, and collapse on the sofa. Which is exactly where Liu Kang found you when he got back. He let you sleep and took you back to your apartment in the morning after giving you some herbal pain remedies.

You didn't feel any different the next day, or the next week. You threw up a few times the day after, which you were sure was because of the amount of alcohol you consumed. A whole month and a half passed before your nosey roommate, Mia, brought up the idea that you might be pregnant. She had been keeping track of every strange thing you had done for the past month. From getting up to go to the bathroom in the night more than usual, to the random mood swings, to falling asleep at your desk, and eating pickles with hot fudge the other day. Not to mention, your period was three weeks late and you hadn't even noticed. Mia wanted answers, for you as well as herself, and had already bought you a pregnancy test which she promptly thrust at you.

Now, staring at the little stick that read 'pregnant' in plain English, it was all starting to hit you. You didn't go to see Kung Lao and Liu Kang very often. Once, maybe twice, a month if you weren't busy, to put it simply: you didn't know what to do. You heard knocking on the bathroom door before you heard Mia's voice. "You ok in there, hun?" You blinked back tears of confusion and answered her. "Yeah, I'm ok." You stuck the test in your pocket and exited the bathroom to find Mia standing right outside the door. "So, what's the verdict?" You didn't say anything and just handed her the stick. "I knew it, so who's the daddy?" You cocked an eyebrow at her blunt question but decided to answer. "One of my best friends," you said quietly. Her eyes widened as she handed the test back to you. "That's gonna be tough, how are you gonna do it?" You frowned. "Do what?" She shrugged, the nonchalant look on her face starting to annoy you. "Tell him, ya'know, that he knocked you up." You looked at the test in your hand, feeling the strong urge to just snap it in half. "I don't know."

~~~~

You waited two more months, deciding not to tell Kung Lao. He and Liu were your best friends, you didn't want anything to ruin that. You couldn't stay away from them forever, they were already wondering why you hadn't come over the last couple times they invited you. You sent them your work over the computer instead of in person, all the information you had been gathering about potential new champions. Just a few days ago Liu had called just to check in on you, thinking you might be sick or injured. You assured him you weren't but you knew you didn't convince him, he could spot a lie from a mile away.

You had started going to the doctor, getting the proper care and tests done to make sure you and the baby were healthy. You even had ultrasound pictures of your little one, that seemed to cement something in your mind. You needed to tell Kung Lao. Sooner rather than later, before you started showing, there was no hiding it then.

You called Liu Kang before you left and asked him if you could come stay at their place for a night or two. That concerned him a little bit but ultimately he was glad that you would be coming to see him and Kung Lao again. You packed for a couple days and drove for a few hours into the woods where the boy's temporary earthrealm residence was. It was secluded back in the woods along a river popular with fishermen in the morning hours. It blended in and allowed the boys to hide in plain sight, mixed in with the few other fishing cabins along the river. No outworld ruffian would look there.

You arrived at the cabin later than you wanted to, having stopped three times to use the restroom along the way. You had tried not to pack your bags that heavy but you needed clothes and you needed all your computer equipment for work. You grabbed the lightest bag you had and went inside, hoping one of the boys would be able to help you with the rest. The door was unlocked, as they had been expecting you, and you walked right in. You entered the living room and found that master Bo Rai Cho was also visiting. He was sat plopped in front of his new favorite thing ever since you introduced him to it, the television. You set your bag on the floor and he took notice of you. "Y/N!" He got out of his chair, fast for a man his size, and strode over, pulling you into a tight hug. "It's good to see you again." You winced in his tight hug until he let go and you smiled at him. "It's good to see you too, Master Cho." He returned the smile and clapped you on the shoulder before walking to an open window. "Liu Kang, your friend has arrived!" He shouted.

It was only a few seconds until Liu Kang came bounding into the room from outside. You smiled at him and he walked over to pull you into a hug, he almost seemed relieved to see you. "It is good to see you again," he said, pulling away. You half smiled and nodded. "It's good to see you too, Liu. Um, you mind helping me unload my stuff?" He agreed without a second thought and walked out to your car with you. You stopped by your trunk and swallowed hard, your muscles tense and nervous. How were you going to tell Kung Lao? "Is Kung Lao here? Usually I'd see him," you commented. Liu grabbed a few of the heavier bags, lifting them with ease. "No, he is out running errands. He should be back in an hour." You sighed and hung your head, not knowing what to think of that. "Is something wrong?" You took a deep breath and looked over at the concerned young man. "Liu, I need to talk to you."

You both unloaded your car before walking down by the river, through the small flower garden they'd planted. You both took a seat on top of the retaining wall, separating the river from the land. "Now, what do you wish to speak to me about?" Liu sat with his legs criss-crossed, perfectly relaxed. You tried sitting the same way but ultimately just dangled your legs over the wall. "Um, I know I haven't visited in a while, and there's a reason for that.." you stared at the water, avoiding eye contact. Though you could see Liu out of the corner of your eye, looking at you with a worried expression. "That night I crashed on your couch...did Kung Lao ever tell you what happened?" You hesitantly looked over at Liu and his eyes fell to the dirt. "Yes, he told me the day after." You looked back at the ground and sighed, Liu reached over and placed his hand on your knee. "There is no need to be ashamed, you were inebriated. Your judgement was clouded, both of yours." You closed your eyes trying to will yourself not to cry. "There's more to it.." you figured you just had to say it and blinked away tears, looking over at Liu who had his head tilted in curiosity. "Liu, I'm pregnant."

His mouth slowly dropped open as his mind processed the information. His gaze dropped to the ground and his reaction just made you feel worse. "I know, I'm sorry," you said. He looked back up at you. "It is not your fault," he squeezed your knee reassuringly, "this is Kung Lao's business now, you need to tell him." You sniffled and a tear managed to escape down your cheek. "I know, when he gets back will you tell him I need to talk to him? Maybe, give him and I some privacy so we can talk it out?" Liu nodded and gave you a small smile, "of course." You could tell Liu was still trying to comprehend what you told him as you both walked back to the house and he helped you settle in. He tried to strike up normal conversation but it was awkward, you felt like an outsider. After a while you offered to clean the place to try and distract yourself and neither of the men objected.

Kung Lao was gone for longer than expected but eventually he came back, Liu took him aside while you unpacked the groceries. You saw them standing in the corner talking though you couldn’t hear their words. You stared for a second and could read Liu’s lips. ‘Talk to her’ he was saying. You tried to calm yourself down and at the same time psyche yourself up for what you had to eventually tell Kung Lao.

You had just finished putting everything away when Kung Lao approached you. “Liu Kang said you needed to speak to me, privately,” he said. His tone was curious this time, not as serious as he usually was. “Yeah, can we..” you trailed off as you motioned outside. He nodded and waved for you to go first. You walked back out to the same spot you and Liu had sat earlier, on the retaining wall by the river. Kung Lao took off his hat and set it next to him, he knew it was easier for you to talk to him without it ever since you said it was distracting and you were staring at it instead of him. He smirked at the memory and looked back at you, waiting for you to speak.

“What did Liu tell you I needed to talk to you about?” You asked, wondering how to start the conversation. “He just said you needed to talk and that it was important,” he answered bluntly. You nodded and fiddled with the ultrasound pictures in your hoodie pocket. You had worn it to hide the tiny bump that had started to form over the last couple days. “Um, about that night a few months ago-” “I’m sorry,” he interrupted, “I know I should not have gone that far. We were both not ourselves that night.” You smirked. “No, I’m not complaining, but there’s more to it..” you sighed. “I’m not sure how to tell you this but..” you could see him becoming worried. You took one of the photos out of your pocket and handed it to him. He looked confused but took the blurry image, trying to figure out what it was. “You got me pregnant.”

His eyes widened and he looked over at you. “I’m sorry,” you said with a sad look on your face. You weren’t sure what compelled you to say it but you felt like you had just ruined someone’s life. You watched him as he stared at the picture, nothing was clearly visible but it must have seemed convincing enough to him. You slipped the pregnancy test out of your pocket and showed it to him too. You heard him sigh and just kept silent, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts. “How far along are you?” he finally asked, his voice scarily cold. “A little over three months,” you answered. You bit your lip before asking a question you needed an answer to. “What are we going to do?” He handed you the test and picture back. “I don’t know.” He said. You were hurt, he had nothing else to say? Your moment was interrupted by Bo Rai Cho calling out that dinner was ready.

Kung Lao helped you up and you walked inside together, he was silent the entire time. You made eye contact with Liu for a split second as you took a seat at the table and his shoulders fell, your expression gave away your emotions. Bo Rai Cho set down the meal, a kind of special fish concoction he had come up with that you normally loved. This time though, it made your stomach turn. The second the aroma hit your nose, nausea hit you badly and you could practically feel the vomit rising in your throat. “I’m sorry, excuse me,” you said quickly before getting up and dashing to the bathroom. You had just enough time to brush your hair out of the way before you emptied your stomach into the toilet.

“What might be wrong with her?” Bo Rai Cho asked. “I didn’t mess it up again, did I?” Liu looked at Kung Lao, his expression urging the other monk to go check on you since this was his doing. But Kung Lao stayed put and just stared back at Liu Kang, his expression unwavering. You could still be heard throwing up in the bathroom down the hall. Liu finally got up and went to check on you. He grabbed a cup of water and a wet cloth to clean off your face. “Lao?” You asked out loud between dry heaving breaths. “No, it’s me,” Liu answered. He kneeled down next to you and rubbed your back until your body finally stopped it’s rejection. “Why didn’t he come?” you asked, sounding defeated. “He does not know how to, right now. He will learn soon," Liu tried to assure you. "He doesn't want any part of this, I know he doesn't," you admitted as you slumped into the corner. Liu handed you the glass of water and watched as you downed it all, thinking. "He will come around, I will talk to him."

You spent the rest of the night in the spare bedroom, hiding and crying. The realization that if Kung Lao didn't help, you'd basically be left alone to raise a child and that idea terrified you. You hoped Liu could talk some sense into him. You loved Kung Lao, only you didn't know how to tell him. The thought of him completely rejecting you because of this was heartbreaking, you wished there was a better solution or any solution at all. Bo Rai Cho felt bad that his cooking had made you sick and made up for it by making you some calming tea and getting you anything you wanted. But the thing you wanted most was Kung Lao back.

You barely slept that night and asked Liu if he could bring your breakfast to your room. You could smell how good it was from your room but you didn't want to get up, you just wanted to hide. Someone knocked on the door and you called out for them to come in. You expected it to be Liu Kang with your breakfast, but Kung Lao had brought it instead. You immediately looked away from him, all the shame and embarrassment coming back. "May I sit?" He asked. You shyly nodded and allowed him to sit on the edge of the bed and hand you your food. "I thought Liu was bringing me breakfast." You wondered out loud. "I wanted to," he said, "I need to apologize for yesterday. I reacted badly." You shrugged. "You reacted normally to shocking news," you replied, slowly starting to eat your food. Kung Lao looked at the floor as he thought about what to say. "I thought about it all last night and...I want to be a part of it. I'm not going to let you do this alone."

Your eyes locked with his and you could see the sincerity in them. You couldn't believe it, your eyes welled up with happy tears. "You're serious? You want to help me?" You questioned. A small smirk came to his face and he took one of your hands in his. "Yes. This is something that will affect us for the rest of our lives. I want to be a part of my child's life." You set your food aside and threw your arms around Kung Lao, hugging him. He was caught off guard but hugged you back. "We can do this," he whispered in your ear. "When is your next doctor appointment, I want to be there." You pulled away just enough to see his face. "Not for another month, are you sure?" He nodded. "I think it's about time I showed up to one," he said with a smirk.

~~~~

You met Kung Lao in the hospital lobby and checked in with him, finally glad to have him with you. It was a lot less embarrassing and anxiety inducing, despite the fact that most people were staring at his hat. He stayed by your side with one hand on the middle of your back protectively all the way up to the correct floor, where you had to check in again.

"I'm here for an ultrasound appointment," you said to the receptionist. "Alright," she said, glancing questionably at Kung Lao. You smirked to yourself, he was intimidating. Nobody would dare fuck with you while Kung Lao was at your side. "And who have you brought with you today?" The woman asked, looking again at Kung Lao. You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it. "I'm her boyfriend, and the father," he answered. The woman nodded and went back to her computer. You turned your head to look at him, a huge smile coming to your face. Not wanting to give anything away, Kung Lao just looked at you and winked.

The receptionist got you checked in and you both sat down to wait for your name to be called. You leaned close to him and whispered. "Boyfriend, huh?" He smirked. "It was the only way I could think to tell you," he said, his tone of voice giving away his teasing. You giggled and rested your head on his shoulder, happy when he put his arm around you in return. Your name was called and you both walked back to an exam room. Kung Lao took off his hat and leaned it against the wall, the room was small and he didn't want to accidentally cut anyone.

The nurse took your vitals and asked you a few questions before leaving you and Kung Lao to wait for the doctor. "Can I see it?" You turned to look at him. "See what?" He uncrossed his arms. "The baby." "You will be able to see it on the ultrasound-" he shook his head, interrupting your sentence. "No, your stomach," he clarified. You understood now and laid back on the table, pulling your shirt up to expose your stomach. Now on month five, your bump was getting increasingly hard to hide.

"Can I touch?" He asked. You nodded with a smile, his curiosity and interest was adorable. Kung Lao placed his hand on your stomach and after a moment he began to rub it around. A sudden discomfort peaked in your stomach area and you looked at Kung Lao, who was as surprised as you. "Was that.." you put your hand on your stomach right next to his and after a couple seconds the discomforting, tiny jolt happened again. "It's kicking!" You beamed, “this is the first time I’ve ever felt it.” Kung Lao took your free hand in his, the look on his face seemed genuinely happy this time. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt,” he said. “Besides the night we made this happen, that is.” You let out an actual laugh, there was the Kung Lao you knew.

The doctor came in and set you all up for the ultrasound. Kung Lao waited impatiently by your side. “The gender should be visible if the baby cooperates, would you like to know?” The doctor asked. You exchanged looks with Kung Lao and came to a conclusion. “Yes, we would like to know,” Kung Lao answered. The doctor nodded and Kung Lao held your hand as the doctor moved the device around your gel covered stomach. The doctor let you both see the screen as they looked around, pointing out things and details that made no sense to you. As long as the baby was healthy that was all that mattered to you.

The doctor finally removed the device and handed you tissue to wipe off your skin. “Looks like he’s all good in there, just stick to what you’re doing and take it easy,” the doctor said. You smiled, “he?” You looked at Kung Lao who looked back at you with a smile. “We’re having a baby boy..” Kung Lao didn’t think, he just pulled you into a tight hug. He’d never been happier in his life. He was going to be a father to a little boy, one he could teach everything he knew, one he could get his own little hat. Everything would be perfect. He kissed your cheek. “I can’t wait to tell Liu Kang.”

[ballorawan740]

SCP Scenarios: When their kids swear at them (REQUESTED)

Main Masterlist | SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Rules | Request | Socials | My Original Post

Requested by: @Astro_KeySimp

WARNING: Swearing (sorta)

Ok so I kinda made the reader into the child since don't remember if you wanted the reader to be a child or not, so if it wasn't to your liking, then I'm sorry, but I can make a separate version on where the reader isn't the child

It kinda became more of the SCPs and doctors being dads than their reaction to their kids swearing

SCP 073 (Cain)

Cain was walking around with you since you were bored and there wasn't anything to do

Being unaware of what some of the staff were saying, ye went over to grab you some food for later in case you got hungry

Once you both went back, he watched you play with some Legos and was talking as if it was your Lego friends talking to you

Cain looked away for just 10 seconds and heard you shout out "Wow! He said that her baby's such a bi-" which shocked him as he heard it

Cain looked around and made sure that nobody was around the room and was somewhat surprised that you was the one saying this

Being a good dad he is, Cain explained to you carefuly that you shouldn't say that word because it's bad

And being a sweet shy child, you obliged and stopped saying the word

Til this day, Cain had no idea about where and who you've heard the word from and is very much more self-aware

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

Abel is that type of dad who would teach you all the bad words and encourages you to say them

It's the researchers who had to teach you top not to say those words

One time, Dr Glass came in to examine you and had rewarded you as usual since you were so cooperative

You drew a picture of you and Abel talking in a garden with bright coloured flowers

Simon asked if he could see your drawing and saw that the conversation you and your dad had was those of swearing

This surprised Simon since you knew so many at such a young age but wasn't totally shocked since he knew that you were Abel's child

And knowing him, he wouldn't teach you to be nice, so Simon took the job as a mother hen and taught you to not use those words around people

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

Ok, so I'll keep this SCP short since I, again, don't know what I should write for this adorable, squicky, neon-orange, bubby blob

Another SCP who doesn't cuss

This adorable squishy boi here was about to have a heart attack when he heard you swear fir the first time

He had to ask you worryingly where you heard that phrase and you just said some guy wearing a white jacket

999 sighed knowing that you'll grow and couldn't do anything to stop it

He did, however, mention that you should try and avoid saying those things to anyone and that they'd most likely have a heart attack since you were his child and you won the genetic lottery for being the cutest and outgoing child in the world

The only other person who knew of this was Dr Glass (sucks to be him ngl, he do be a mother to everyone) and he had to help poor 999 with teaching you better words

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

YAY! Another SCP who would teach their kid to swear

682 has such a dirty mouth like 076 and would 100% teach you all the words he knows

Similarly to what happened with Abel, you were taken for an interview with Dr Sophia Light since she was assigned to you

She's such a sweet and kind doctor to be around and would teach you anything and everything you would probably need to know all the while keeping an eye on you in case you become overly aggressive like 682

You were just eating some sweets Lights had given you for good behaviour and overheard some researchers swear

Remembering what your dad had taught you, you just repeated those curse words while clapping at your achievement

This had shocked Sophia and that researcher since you were known to be a moderately shy and quiet child who normally wouldn't say those things despite being 682's child

Sophia had to ask if you understood the meaning of those words and shook your head as an indicator for no

She had to carefully find her words and told you to never speak of those words again and took you back to 682's cell

You went and hugged your dad and told him that you learnt from the doctor that those curse words were bad and neither of you should say them

682 had a headache after that

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

I have a hard time thinking that 049 would teach his child to cuss and would avoid swearing in front of them at all cost

Like, he barely swears anyways but he wants to stay classy and sassy for his innocent child

Just like the other day, his kiddo, you, was curious about the whole surgery thingy he does on the dead bodies, so you asked him to teach you and so he did (like the good father we nevah had)

So you learnt some new, yet difficult, words (cuz we all have a nonexistent pea-sized brain) and somehow, you managed to fit in a curse word

This did surprise 049 as he had remembered that he didn't teach you those foul words

He had to give you a talk about using such words and you teared up since you thought that people used them to express their affection to others

Unsurprisingly, 049 took his sweet time looking for the guy who 'taught' you this and wanted to use him as a case study for your future lessons

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Another parent with such an amazing influence on children

035 would teach and enable you to use swearing as a form of expression

So you were free to say whatever you want as long as they aren't directed to our mask here, especially if it's in a negative way

Otherwise, you'd be punished (No not like that! He'll just ground you from your favourite TV show/movie)

The researchers were surprised, not about you swearing, but how you use them through expression

Except for this poor guy who was new to the foundation and bumped into you by accident

This rookie found himself listening to you cursing like a sailor (maybe not that much but more or less on the same level as Samuel L Jackson)

Word got out and everybody laughed at the poor rookie and told him more about your background and how you love to swear (apparently swearing will prolong your life, so you'll basically be immortal here)

035 was impressed by the whole ordeal and rewarded you with more shows to watch whenever you're both free

SCP 105 (Iris)

Iris would accidentally swear in front of you and whenever she realises it, she would tell you to not swear at people since it wasn't very nice

So she would use words to replace the swearing like "oh fudging hell not now" and "no sugar honey ice tea"

The foundation felt that it was slightly unnecessary but went with it anyways

They'd even go as far as saying that it's ridiculous, but who are they to judge?

Iris was your mother and she's a single mum too, so she felt the need to be overly beating but would occasionally let you decide on your own since you were only 12

The foundation members did tell her that you will eventually grow and more of these words will be used but she just hesitates

As a teen, you did begin to use foul words more often and Iris would argue about how you're using them, especially towards her, your own mother

Needless to say, you both felt bad and made up

SCP 106 (Old Man)

Now this old man right here doesn't exactly speak, or at least very rarely

And if he does, he'll most likely be talking to you or the foundation staff if he needed some help finding you

He'll most likely be able to understand what the researchers are saying, even if they aren't speaking English

My own personal hc is that 106 understands English, German, Spanish, French, Chinese, Arabic and Indonesian and probably many others

Every now and again, somebody would come in and teach you new words and give other lessons like maths and poetry (our favourite)

You came back home to tell him all the things you've learnt as he watched you in awe as he braided your hair

You've even used some new phrases, including swear words while talking and 106 was pretty impressed

I feel that he's quite neutral with swear words since words are words and are used as a form of verbal communication

So I don't think they'll be much change in his behaviour to whether you're swearing or not

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

Now with 096, all he does is scream

So basically, somebody else would have to teach you some words

It's not to say that 096 is a dumb animalistic creature with no soul and just kills people who look at his face

He isn't stupid since he manages to find anyone who looked at his face from the other side of the globe

And he seems to understand what the researchers are saying, or at least on a more intermediate to moderate level

You'll learn about swear words from the other researchers, whether they'll be teaching it to you intentionally or you've overheard them

The foundation could really care less, but would at least prefer that you chill a bit if you got carried away

096 would act all cheery when you learn more new things as it's not like the foundation would let him out anyway, so he'll be living the outside world life from you (How relatable, but more with babysitting and dating, cuz I'm too pretty for anyone to date XD)

Like with 106, I don't think 096 would have any special reaction towards swearing, but would probably be screaming internally for a bit since he knows that it isn't a nice word

Dr Jack bright

This mf right here is one of those parents who would be kind but firm

Bright would most definitely give in to your curiosity and teach you whatever you want to learn but would warn you of the dangers

Depending on what it is, he would even go as far as giving you your own personal guard who would stay with you and train you

And unfortunately, this guard has such a foul mouth, so you're constantly exposed to such words

Luckily for the both of you, Jack Bright doesn't really care about swearing as long as you're not being extremely inappropriate if you were to work

He would even joke around with you sometimes and would even start the conversation with swearing

For instance, he'd just surprise you with a "Yeet his mf outta my sheithole"

And yes, you did laugh at his antics

Some would even say that you're an exact clone of him but more stable (for now)

Well, Bright is an amazing dad, but I'd say just below Dr Glass

Or maybe even on par with him

Like Bright is a goofy dad that has all the terrible dad jokes and Glass would be the type of dad to look out for his kid

Dr Simon Glass

Dr Glass would most definitely avoid using swear words, especially if you were under 15

Even if you were over 15, he'd still avoid swearing unless he wants to make a joke or 2

So most of the time, you'd learn all the swearing from other people and SCPs

Sometimes you would swear by accident and Glass would just look at you, slightly disappointed

I'd say he doesn't exactly care about you swearing per see, but would rather you avoid it

It's cuz Simon is the best dad a dad could ever dad and nobody could prove me wrong here

He's also one of the top best dads compared to the others on the list

He's basically your best friend so he'd let you vent and its the 1 time he'd let you swear to show your emotions

Simon would 100% know your thoughts and behaviour

He's just that good at reading people, especially you - almost to the point where people would say he's an SCP cuz I swear he's just empathic and telepathic

As mentioned before, Glass would be the type of dad to care for your mental health

It's not that the others don't, it's just that Glass is a top their God of Psychology and would come to you before you even know you have depression

He would even crack a joke sometimes

So every so often, he would shout out "LANGUAGE!!!" from across the room before you could even bat an eye and say anything

Dr Alto Clef

Another top tier dad, but swearing addition

Your godfather would literally be Jack Bright

Then it's Kondraki and Glass

He would let you swear on a daily basis and would join you

Sometimes you be looking at your Oppas/Noonas and be like: "Oh fxxk me!" and Clef, who's in the next room, be like: "Yeah, fxxk me too!" (Yes but no sis! No incest pls!)

Other times, you would be in the same room as Clef and Bright and you'd join them in being chaotic

And poor Kondraki  is just there at the back trying to do his work peacefully

One time, Kondraki had to grab a Simon Glass to help stop the chaotic trio

And OML did it end so well

You were easy to manage tbh, with the exception of you swearing

Clef and Bright would most definitely encourage you to swear more

Especially Clef since he does have a twisted sense of humour

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Kondraki is totally the type of person who would tell their kid to mind their own language

But he secretly doesn't care and his child knows it

His style of parenting is similar to Simon's

And yes, Simon is your #1 godfather/uncle

You'd go to him for emotional support since Kondraki sucks at that

Sometimes you'd swear at him and he'd get mad though

So yeah, running to Glass is a wonderful idea

And we all know that Kondraki doesn't mean what he said

He's just extremely introverted, but he's rather sensible - Usually...

Anyways, he would ask Simon on tips and advice on how to get you to stop swearing so much and he just gave Benjamin a parenting book (Like fr guys, let Glass have some rest, he's tired of babysitting over 100 dozens of pets in the zoo and all the other babies who work in it)

[rehkkuma]

she's all yours | okuyasu x reader

summary: unlike his partner in crime, Okuyasu lacked experience in the dating field. Once he believes that he may have a chance with his crush, his best friend begins to get in the way.

words: 1.8k

disclaimers/tags: fem pronouns, modern AU (basically just phones being involved), tiny bit of angst, fluff, and cursing.

He was staring again. The poor 16-year-old boy couldn't help but notice every single detail about her: the slight tilt in her walk whenever she went up the stairs, how she would tie her shoes, and the unfortunate glint of light in her eyes whenever she spoke with his best friend.

Y/n L/n was someone extremely special to him (whether she knew it or not). She could read his expressions so clearly, sometimes knowing more about Okuyasu than Okuyasu did himself. The emotions he couldn't quite put his finger on, she always had an answer to. At times, he felt undeserving of the friendship he had with her. After coming to terms with his developing feelings for the girl, of course she began to get closer with his best friend.

He was painfully aware of the difference in treatment he received compared to Josuke. While Josuke could be referenced as Morioh's pretty-boy delinquent, Okuyasu was more like the intimidating ruffian that stood by his side. Obviously, Y/n did not think of Okuyasu in that way, but her perception of him didn't matter if he was considered nothing more than a friend.

"Hey," Josuke called out, concerned for his friend.

"Y-Yeah?" Okuyasu stuttered, trying to regain his thoughts.

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

Okuyasu silently thanked Y/n for standing in a crowd with other students. If she stood any further from the school's front entrance, it would've been easy for Josuke to pinpoint who he was eyeing.

"Nothing, really. Just thought I saw a cute girl."

Josuke shrugged his shoulders, repositioning himself so his back laid more comfortably against the tree. "Well, if you do see one, ask 'em out or somethin'. I wanna see you have your first kiss before we graduate," he chuckled.

"Mhm, yup," Okuyasu responded, eyes now glued to the grass he was sitting on. He was about to spew out a self-deprecating joke but stopped himself once he noticed Y/n approaching the two of them. Immediately, he recognized Josuke's energy shift from disinterest to eagerness.

"Y/n!" Josuke cheerfully said, waving at the girl.

"Hi, you two!" she waved back. Once coming close enough, she sat down along with the boys, her knees lacing together in a criss-cross position. Because of the short distance between her and Okuyasu, the boy could smell the flowery essence emitting off of her body. He wasn't too fond of fragrances, but the one Y/n had was light and sweet-- perfectly suiting her personality.

Before he knew it, Okuyasu was staring again. The only thing that got him to snap back into reality was the cry of laughter Y/n let out after Josuke made a funny remark.

"Did you hear that Okuyasu?" Y/n choked out, leaning back with both hands on her stomach.

"Y-Yeah." Okuyasu fake laughed, really having no clue what the hell was going on.

"God," Y/n sighed as she wiped off the faint tears forming in her eyes. "I wish I could hang out with you guys a bit longer, but I just wanted to drop by and say hi. I gotta help out with some chores tonight."

"It's all good," Josuke smiled. "But only if you promise to call me tonight."

The girl rolled her eyes while getting up from the ground. "We'll have to see about that, Jojo!" She then stuck her tongue out before scurrying off to her house.

Josuke chuckled, slowly placing his chin on the palm of his hand. "She's pretty cute, isn't she?" he said, eyes glued to the girl's figure in the distance.

"Yeah, she sure is."

* * *

Okuyasu could remember the first time he met her as clear as day: his hands were tucked deep into his pockets, feet dragging along the sidewalk while he was on his way to school. Unlike his regular routine, Josuke was unable to walk with him due to an argument breaking out between him and his mother. It seemed like a bummer at the moment, but maybe it was actually a blessing in disguise.

"Fuck!"

In front of Okuyasu's feet laid a girl. Her uniform was stained with a bright red juice and its can rolled next to her. He didn't recall exactly what happened, but he did feel someone's face hit his chest before hearing a thud.

"I didn't get any on you, did I?" the girl asked with panic.

Okuyasu, hands still in his pockets, shook his head. "Mnn. Don't think you did."

"Okay, thank God. These stains are so hard to get rid of."

That was one of the first things that Okuyasu remembered from Y/n. Her casual way of talking was enough to make any stranger feel like a good friend. Something about this girl piqued his interest.

"Guess it's not your first time, huh?" he hummed.

"You'd think I'd learn my lesson after the third time."

After the small accident, Okuyasu took the girl to the laundromat. Classes would begin in any minute, but neither one of the pair minded skipping it.

"Oi, what're you gonna be wearin' in the meantime? Don'tcha think the teacher's gonna kick your ass for showing up like that?" Okuyasu pointed at the revealing tank top she wore.

"Yeah, definitely. That's why you should totally let me borrow your top," she winked.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself. I don't even have a clue on what your name is."

"L/n." she replied crassly. "It's Y/n L/n."

That was several months ago. Since then, their relationship started to significantly grow. From sending short texts to sharing a few inside jokes, to hanging out every other day after school. In Okuyasu's eyes, it was inevitable for him to fall for a girl like her.

Right before he could spill about his crush to his best friend, Josuke had already introduced himself to her. It crushed Okuyasu to see the girl he loves slowly start to move on from him-- to his own best friend nevertheless.

All of his frustrations were best to be kept to himself. No way could he express his jealousy to Josuke or Y/n. Out of all the girls that fawned over Josuke, why did she have to be one of them?

**Brring**

Okuyasu rolled his body to the other side of his bed. On a nightstand was his phone that rang. The alarm was just loud enough to break through the pessimistic thoughts roaring through his brain.

"Who's this?" he asked, too lazy to check the contact number.

"It's me, Okuyasu! Why, is it that hard to use a second of your time to check the contact name?"

He recognized that voice anywhere. It was her.

"Aw, look. I was in bed, alright?" he smiled, feeling his mood change immediately after speaking with her.

A small giggle echoed from the other end of the phone. "Alright! I wasn't here to nag you all night anyways." The girl then cleared her throat with a cough before soon speaking again. "I was thinking we should hang out tomorrow. For ice cream, maybe. Just us."

Small butterflies began to form in his stomach from hearing the last sentence. "Just us" had never sounded better.

"Sounds good to me."

"Great!" she nearly interrupted. "A-Ah, sorry! I just got excited. It feels like we've been parting ways the past couple of weeks, but I promise tomorrow's gonna make up for it!"

"It's alright," Okuyasu sighed. "See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow!" she repeated.

* * *

Was it just Okuyasu or did she look way cuter today? The makeup she wore differed from the one she usually had on, her accessories managed to compliment her eyes even more, and she even put an effort into customizing her uniform like Josuke and Okuyasu despite expressing her laziness multiple times. She looked like an absolute doll.

"Hmph." She huffed. "You've been doing that a lot lately," she said flatly.

"Doing what?"

"Staring at me like I'm some crazy person."

Okuyasu internally panicked for a few seconds but composed himself. "You just look pretty lately, that's all."

He expected a cheeky comeback in return but was left with a bashful smile from her instead.

"Let's just hurry up and get ice cream..." she said, eyes faced to the ground.

Okuyasu nodded at her suggestion and began to walk, making sure his pace wasn't too fast for Y/n. He'd occasionally give a glance at her direction to know if he was walking at a comfortable speed for her.

Several minutes of walking and a few casual conversations later, the duo made it to the ice cream shop. Y/n ordered a mix of her two favourite flavours while Okuyasu ordered two scoops of mocha almond fudge. Feeling a bit more gentleman-like today, Okuyasu insisted on paying for the both of them.

"Thanks for the ice cream!" the girl said, taking a small lick of the cone. "I feel like the more I hang out with you, the more things I owe you back," she chuckled as the two left the shop.

"Don't sweat it. Hangin' out with you's enough for me." Okuyasu smiled.

"Ah, really?" she blushed. "That's... really sweet of you."

There she did it again. No witty comeback. Just a flustered reply.

"Somethin' up with you? Eat something bad today?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"You're just actin' a bit different, that's all. Not sayin' it's bad though. I kinda like it." Okuyasu continued to walk on the sidewalk but stopped once he realized Y/n was frozen still. "Hey, you comin'?"

Y/n began to slowly jog her way to Okuyasu. When she caught up with him, she paused once more, now looking into the young boy's eyes. "I feel like you don't hear yourself talk sometimes," she said. "I can't tell if you're flirting or you're just naturally this oblivious."

He didn't know how to respond. He was starting to get nervous from how close their faces were. If he wanted to, he could practically count each beauty mark on her face.

"Well?" she said.

"Well..." Okuyasu tried to come up with something but found himself paying more attention to the girl's lips. They looked plush and soft with a slight glossy coat from the ice cream.

Eventually, the girl noticed where he was looking at. Slowly, she closed the already small gap between the two.

"Okuyasu," she breathed out with a gentle tone. "I really like you."

"I-" he stuttered. "Not Josuke?"

"Josuke?" She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and chuckled. "I don't know what you think is going on between us, but it's not that. He's not exactly my type either."

Okuyasu couldn't believe what he was hearing. Before he could say anything back, he felt her lips against his right cheek. It was a delicate kiss. Maybe a bit sticky, but it made his heart do several backflips nevertheless.

Once her lips left his skin, she stood awkwardly in front of him. The way she looked up at his eyes with that lovestruck gaze made Okuyasu realize something he didn't before: he wouldn't need to jealous of other guys. It was clear that Y/n L/n was all his.

[mageofseven]

Bros and undateables react to MC who bakes in the middle of the night when stressed

I read this and my brain was like "so Beel's dream MC?". Of course, doing it out of stress isn't good, but Beel would definitely enjoy midnight sweets~

Anyway, will do, Nonnie! Please enjoy 😊

Also, like always, I'm splitting this into two parts: one for Brothers and the other Undateables for space reasons.

~

Lucifer:

Was heading to the kitchen to get himself more coffee to continue his paperwork.

When he saw the kitchen light on, he expected to catch Beel raiding the fridge.

Instead, he found MC at the oven, pulling out another set of cookies to add to the already monstrous pile of them on the counter.

"MC, what are you doing?"

The human jumped at his voice then gave an awkward laugh.

"Baking..."

"Yes, I have eyes, Love." He tells them. "What I mean is, why are you baking at 1am?"

"...I dunno."

The man sighed before approaching the human and turning off the oven.

"Regardless, I believe you've made enough cookies for one night. It's time for bed."

The human didn't move however.

"Darling?"

"I can't sleep..."

MC proceeds to explain how they get bad anxiety at night and how usually they can power through it, but with some school stressors on top of it, it became overwhelming and they just needed to do something to distract themselves.

The demon frowned.

"Love, you should have just came to me if you were having issues."

"But you're busy with your work--"

"That doesn't matter if you need me though."

The firstborn smoothed down their human's hair, which was messy.

"Now follow me to my room. I'll make sure you get some rest."

"But what about the cookies?"

"I'm sure Beel will wander in and take care of them for you."

Mammon:

Just got back from a party and was heading to the kitchen to grab a snack before heading up to his room

Only to find MC awake and... icing a cake?

"Oi! Human! What's with the cake?"

"I baked it."

"Well duh. But why?"

The human finished icing it, making the cake a colorful one with all of the brothers' colors.

"Because I wanted to." The human shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Do you want a piece?"

"Uh.. sure." The demon mumbled.

He hopped onto the counter next to them as he watched them grab a plate and cut a piece for him.

MC handed the plate and a fork to him.

"It's red velvet." They said proudly.

"Yeah, yeah..." The man mumbled, taking a bite.

His eyebrows raised.

"Man, this is good!" His face went red at his words so he dialed back. "I mean, its okay... ya know."

MC gave a small smile, but it quickly fell into a heavier look.

"Hey, what's with that face??"

MC quietly hopped on the free counter next to him.

They didn't answered, just lightly kicked their feet as they stared at the floor.

"Oh c'mon, Babe, talk to me 'ere!"

MC sighed.

"I'm sorry. My anxiety is just bad tonight... I wanted to keep busy."

...oh.

The Avatar of Greed sat the plate down and put his arm around his Human.

"I don't get why you went to straight to baking..." The demon thought aloud. "But it doesn't matter. I'm home now, got that? You don't have to be anxious on your own..."

MC gave a soft smile.

"Thanks, Babe."

"Nothin' to thank me for. Now just let The Great Mammon take care of you!"

Leviathan:

This boy's sleep schedule is kinda fucked up

So it's not unusual for him to be up at 3am.

The Avatar of Envy ran out of pop in his room so he ventured out to the kitchen to get some more.

Which is how he found MC in the kitchen with like... seven cheesecakes???

"...What am I looking at?"

"Cheesecake."

"Well duh, normie." The demon rolled his eyes. "But why did you make cheesecake at like, 3am?"

Silence. Levi was suddenly worried that they hurt his Human's feelings and the look is their eyes definitely wasn't filled with the positivity that he's used to.

"Look..." He came up and hugged them close. "I just don't get it. Please don't be upset."

MC laid their head against their boyfriend's chest.

"It's fine." They mumbled. "I'm sorry... I just couldn't sleep so... I just came in to bake and this was the outcome."

"You should have just came to my room." He pulled back to look at them. "You could have been watching me play Rune Factory or something."

MC turned away from the demon, wrapping their arms around themselves.

"I'm not too clingy... right?"

"I... what?"

MC sighed.

"I didn't go to you because I was worried that you just wanted time to yourself and I'm always with you during the day..."

Levi just shook his head at every word they just said.

"Look... I always want my Henry with me." He blushed. "And yeah, I like my time away from other people, but that doesn't include you; just other normies."

"Are... are you sure?"

"I mean, yeah." He mumbled. "So... just don't worry about it, okay?"

Satan:

This man usually has a better sleep schedule but tonight he had stayed up reading just a bit too long.

He started heading to the kitchen to get some water and found MC with counter surfaces covered with cupcuakes while they looked really stressed and teary-eyed down at the one they were drawing on with icing.

"Kitten?"

MC jumped and quickly raised their hand to wipe their eyes.

Satan strode over and stopped them, looking down into their eyes.

"Kitten, what's wrong?" He wiped away a fallen tear.

They avoided their boyfriend's gaze.

"It's not working..." They mumbled.

"What are you talking about?"

"The cats aren't turning out right..." Their gaze falls to the dozen cupcakes with cat faces drawn on them in icing, but didn't meet the human's standards apparently.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. Surely they weren't in the kitchen crying over cupcakes because their designs weren't coming out well?

He sighed.

"Give me your hand." He took the human's hand with the bag of icing and brought it over a cupcake. He guided them with the design and helped them make a cleaner-looking cat.

"Thank you." MC sniffled.

Satan pressed a kiss to their forehead.

"Now what's the real issue, Little One?"

MC didn't say a word, just lightly sat the icing bag down and stared at the cupcakes.

Their boyfriend waited patiently and just rubbed circles on their hand with his thumb.

"I... I'm not gonna be sent away if I fail a class, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

MC shifted their gaze to the ground.

The blonde sighed once more and wrapped his arms around their waist.

"Talk to me, Kitten."

They sniffled.

"I'm failing my Hexes class." They mumbled. "This semester got so much harder and my grade took a nose dive... and the requirements to stay in the program say I gotta keep my grades in a certain range..."

"MC... you should have told me sooner." He tightened his embrace around them and set his chin on their shoulder.

"B-But you can't always help me--"

"Yes I can, Kitten. I'm always ready to help you when you need me."

"Satan..."

He kissed their cheek.

"And trust me when I say I would never let anyone take you away from me." He told them. "I'd fight the whole Devildom to keep you by my side."

He placed one last kiss on their temple.

"I'll help you study tomorrow. For now, let's clean up and get some rest."

Asmodeus:

Another one who just came home from a party and was heading towards his room when he heard a frustrated sigh come from the kitchen.

The demon poked his head inside and found MC staring down at... something. Whatever it was supposed to be, it just looked like charcoal now.

"Doll? What are you doing up?"

MC sighed.

"Baking." They eyed the black brick on the counter. "Or well... tried to anyway."

Asmo stepped inside and immediately went over to kiss his human.

They smiled a bit.

"Welcome home."

He smiled back and gave his Doll a big hug.

MC relaxed into the hug.

"My anxiety is just bad tonight for basically no reason." They explained, burying their face in the crook of his neck. "I was waiting for you to come home."

"Aww, Dolly." He pulled back and kissed their check. "You should have texted me! I would of been home sooner!"

"No, no, it fine." They pulled away. "Did you have fun?"

"Yep! Of course, I would have had even more fun if you came me, but I still made do~."

He gave them another kiss, this time on their nose.

"Now why don't we lay down now, hmm?"

MC smiled.

"Okay, thank you, Azzy."

Beelzebub:

Midnight kitchen raid. A usual nightly occurrence.

This time however, the Avatar of Gluttony's nose was greeted by a sweet smell as he approached the kitchen.

"Oh Beely!" The human displayed their plate full of fudge squares to him. "Please try them and tell me what you think."

Was he dreaming? The man felt like he was dreaming. Still, he didn't hesitate to accept the human's offer.

He made quick work of the fudge and smiled happily at his Muffin.

"Good?"

"Amazing." He stepped forward and hugged his human.

After a moment though, his smile fell.

"Wait...what are you doing up?"

Silence.

"Muffin?"

MC broke away and sat the now empty plate in the sink.

"I dunno. I just couldn't sleep." They explained. "I guess I just..."

The demon stared down at them, waiting patiently.

"Ugh..." MC let their face fall into his chest.

He stroked their hair quietly, brows furrowing in concern.

"I got a test on Friday and no matter how much I study for it, I can't stop stressing about it." They sighed.

"What class?"

"History..." They mumbled. "Why do we have to cover a whole century of events in one test?"

Beel patted their head and hugged their human close.

"Can I sleep with you tonight, Beely? I don't think I wanna go back to my room."

He kissed the top of their head.

"Of course, Muffin."

Belphegor:

Believe or not, its common for Sleepy Boy to be up late at night.

He sleeps so much during the day that he's usually awake starting from after his dinner nap to about 4 or 5 am.

Hence him being awake at 2am and heading towards MC's room, only to notice that their room was empty, but there was noise coming from the kitchen.

He found his Human sitting on the floor in front of the oven, staring into it.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting for the brownies to bake." They said dully, not looking away from the oven.

"Are you baked?"

MC lightly hit his arm, but broke out into a small smile.

He smirked.

"Come on, I mean, who bakes brownies at 2am and just stares at them?"

Their smile fell, as did their gaze; they stared down at their bare feet.

Belphie frowned.

"Okay, what's the problem, Butthead?"

No response. He gave a small flick to their head.

"Ow..." The human rubbed their forehead, looking to the Avatar of Sloth as he stared expectantly at them.

They sighed.

"I've been getting nightmares lately... at least I think I have been."

The demon raised an eyebrow.

"You think you've had nightmares?"

"I... can't actually remember them." They mumbled. "All I know is that I'll have them and wake up crying with my heart pounding... but I can never remember why. Like, what the dream was about..."

"How long has this been going on?"

"About... two weeks I think?"

He flicked them on the forehead again.

"Ow!" They rubbed their forehead once more.

"Dummy. You are literally dating the demon whose an expert on sleep and stuff."

Silence. He sighed.

"Come here." He pulled them in for a hug. "Come to my room. I'll keep the nightmares away, got it?"

[elliotoille]

Do you have any advice for understanding hands better? I’ve been practicing them for years but feel like compared to other aspects of anatomy it’s the one thing I haven’t seen much improvement in. I draw both from life and images and draw nearly everyday but nothing I’m doing seems to help

I personally get by mostly from remembering poses that I’ve already practiced a ton, like I figure out how to draw it once and am able to file that away in my brain and use it again later, and tweak bits of the pose or the level of simplification to suit what I’m drawing. 

I’ve paid special attention to drawing hands for like.... most of my life so I have a LOT of poses I’m easy comfy with now, but when I need to figure out something complicated or new, I can usually work it out by breaking a hand down into shapes, remembering a few key points/”rules” from what I’ve learned about hands in order to help me break it down in a way that makes sense. And if that’s not enough either, then I take photo refs. 

^^^ here is a pose I use a ton. I have a quick way of drawing it from various angles. the first time I had to draw a pose like this, I had to think and figure it out, but in drawing it a bunch of times and having to use various angles like this, I’ve eventually come up with a quick, reliable way to draw it from a few of the most common angles that fits the style I like to draw in. I’m blessed with a good memory for observations, so when I see a beautifully posed hand, I can usually really quickly analyze what I like about that pose and why, and that helps me absorb it so I can recreate my saved impression later. But I know not everyone thinks the same way. it might benefit you to quickly scribble down a study in a sketchbook when you see a pose you find beautiful and want to learn from for later.

^^^ here are some poses I had to stop and spend time figuring out, calling up the “rules” for how hands are built to kind of logic-out how they should look from angles I’m less familiar with. results can be mixed, but... if I end up with something expressive that fits the style of the rest of the drawing, I’m usually really forgiving of fudged anatomy or slightly wonky proportions. as long as the thumb is on the right side and there aren’t too many fingers, that’s a great start lol.

^^^ and here are ones I had to take reference-selfies for. I try to use this as a last resort because 1) it’s a lot of trouble 2) interrupts my drawing and 3) if I’m not careful I stick too close to the reference, and the drawing ends up with the hand looking referenced and the rest of the pose not, which is jarring to me. not to mention I have tiny manlet wrists that without fail, look horrific and emaciated in photos, and the lens distortion makes my fingers look scary too... ugh, photo reference has definite flaws. I actually don’t like the look of drawings for which I can Really Tell the artist drew from photo reference, because most often that means they’re taking the ref too much at face value and incorporating ugly lens distortions into their drawing. so I have to think extra hard not only about interpreting the ref, but also might have to make multiple passes just to get the hand to look normal, AND match the style of the rest of the drawing.

Anyway, here are some of the ““rules””” I mentioned earlier that I fall back on to help me figure out more complicated poses:

1. probably seen this before, but basic proportions. the palm is usually half the total height of the hand. obviously you can mess with this purposefully. 

2. I think of joints as like, ball joints or hinges. I find that easier than trying to remember bones & muscles. here’s a drawing of the wrist as a hinge. note that when you’re thinking of it this way, it’s a shortcut, but a shortcut is only good if you use it with precision. notice the pin for the wrist hinge is not just halfway, it’s closer to the top of the hand. being precise about that is what allows this shortcut to work. the heel of the palm juts out, while the top of the hand transitions into the wrist quite smoothly.

3. simplified planes. planes are important yo. in super simple terms: top is flat, bottom is round. this works on the fingers too, actually. the tops are bony and tendony, and the bottom is where the fat is, so it’s rounder and soft

thinking of the hand as abstract shapes REALLY helps simplify the task of drawing hands, and is just as helpful even if you are drawing from reference. I can say “the palm is a box” and obviously the palm is not really as simple as a box, but if I think of the palm, wrist, and each finger joint as various shapes of box, then all of a sudden, psychologically, my task is SO much easier. I’m not drawing a Hand, which is hard, I’m drawing boxes, which is easy.

4. that prominent knob some people have on their wrist? that’s on the pinky side.

1. the knuckles aren’t really a flat row on top. the hand is like a cup right, so your palm can hold water and things. so we can think of the hand as a box to make figuring out the pose easier, but when it comes down to it, you’ll want to make it more of a curve. this curve is why you can see multiple fingers in a side view

2. when curled up, the fingers nestle together. the fingernails also turn slightly toward the center. even if I’m simplifying the hands significantly, I usually still draw the fingernails because they are SO useful for communicating the pose of the hand effectively.

3. lots of people suggest to think of the hand as a mitten, grouping the pinky/ring/middle fingers and singling out the index finger. this works great, the index finger is more independent from the other three. on the flip side, those three are really stuck together; if you’re drawing the pinky curled up all the way, then you better not draw the ring finger sticking straight up, cause that would HURT. anyway, singling out the index finger leads to more interesting poses in my experience.

1. this is another illustration of top = flat and bottom = curved. this is a really easy way to organize your line quality. straight lines and sharper angles where there is bone, and soft gentle lines where there is muscle and fat. your drawing as a whole will read very clearly if you find some guidelines like that to stick to, as it means all your lines are intentional and thoughtful.

2. this one’s about overlaps. when forms overlap, it makes a crease, and when you draw that crease you’re communicating which form is in front of the other. in the second drawing I reversed all the creases, and it looks.... messed up. think about how pieces connect.

so when you’re trying to make up a pose without using specific reference, I think it’s good to think about the.... flow of energy through the pose. honestly, I know it’s really abstract, but if I have an ability to make interesting poses that communicate weight and movement, the things that make people say your character feels ALIVE, like they really EXIST in a space... it’s because I started to think of poses this way. imagining streams of energy bouncing through the body, flowing down the limbs and out through the fingers. this is why hands are so important to me, cause they’re where the kinetic energy of the pose ultimately ends up. I talk about it when drawing the torso and arms and legs, but an interesting drawing has a bounce back and forth between opposites: for every curve, an opposing straight line, alternating back and forth down the entire body. if you’re sensitive to the energy of the pose, then even very simple poses will be interesting to look at.

anyway, with regards to hands, I imagine the energy getting sort of cinched in as it passes through the wrist, and then emanating out through the fingertips. I hope my drawing at least SORT of communicates this imagery. it makes sense because that’s BASically how the bones in the hand are anyway. and then the right side of the image above is just demonstrating some highly simplified gestures. see how the fingers fan out and curl in, rarely parallel to eachother. when you’re figuring out the pose, using a line to stand in for the row of knuckles is super valuable.

aaand finally, here’s two hands where I intentionally neglected correct anatomy and proportion because I felt it worked better for the style of the whole drawing. Left side: since this is a really simple and cartoonish style, I was thinking back to kids’ and shoujo manga I have read where the style was very solid and distinctive, but definitely NOT overly concerned with correct anatomy, or even really drawing hands, uh, “well” at all. to me, that sort of approach has a Look that I like to invoke sometimes, since for years I felt like I learned a bunch of anatomy and proportion and drawing from life actually in detriment to the liveliness and appealness of my drawings. this hand is mushy and makes very little sense, but it turned out as intended. Right side: sometimes I like to pretend fingers only have 2 bones in them, cause i am a Queen and i do what i want

and there you go. I hope that helped, like, at all? Look at real hands and photos of hands and hands in motion, but also look at drawn hands as well. find what you like, and work towards expressing that yourself. and remember the hand is part of the whole drawing. not only in the art style like I’d been talking about, but because the angle and placement of the hand is reflected in the angles of the arm, which in turn reflects on the angles of the shoulder, which affects the whole torso, etc etc etc. and the techniques you can use to understand and draw the rest of the body, works on hands too. as you improve everything else, your hands will improve as well.

DISCLAIMER: I whipped up these diagrams quickly, they’re not meant to be good drawings or accurate refs, just diagrams to illustrate my thought process lol

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | one

A/N: Here’s the beginning of my new mini-series!  I hope you all enjoy it.  It will definitely be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, so be prepared!  There will be five parts!

SUPPORT MY WRITING HERE: https://ko-fi.com/spine_buster

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

                                                                   *     *     *     *     *

Brock Boeser felt like he was at some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, with everybody around the circle introducing themselves and their similar predicaments.  The group was in a big meeting room at the local community centre, and when he walked in, he saw a group of dads playing basketball in the gym.  He sort of wanted to join them instead of being here, in this room, with all these people that he didn’t know talking about what they were going to talk about, but he’d done this back in Minnesota, at his mother’s behest with his siblings, and he was going to do it here, too, in Vancouver, to make her happy and ease her mind and to make sure that he was easing his own mind.  

“Um, hello everyone.  My name is Brock Boeser.  I’m from Minnesota, but I’m living in Vancouver.  And um, I’m here with you all because my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.”

“Hello Brock,” everyone smiled at him, and he smiled and nodded back.

“So it was your dad that was diagnosed,” the leader, a kind, older woman named Esther who had greeted him at the door and stuck with him until everybody sat down, egged on a conversation.  He knew she was doing it because he was new; everybody in this room probably already knew each other.  A part of him actually wondered if anybody knew who he was.  “When?”

“Um, he—he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2010,” Brock revealed, stuttering it out.  He knew he’d have to be open at these things – open so people could empathize with him, open so he could empathize with others – but it was still tough for him to do so.  “But he—it’s—it’s not just Parkinson’s.  Two years after he was diagnosed, he was in a car accident and suffered a traumatic brain injury.  In 2017, he was diagnosed with lung cancer.  He beat it but then in June it returned to his liver and chest.  In July, he had a heart attack and his heart stopped beating for 15 minutes.  I was with him and—I—it’s—it’s a lot, as you can imagine,” he tried not to start crying right then and there.  Imagine that – first meeting with a Parkinson’s Society of BC support group and he’d bawl like a baby.

“Goodness me, Brock,” Esther said.  “He has support at home?”

“Um, well, money isn’t an issue now, but when I was growing up my mom worked three jobs to make sure we were all taken care of,” he revealed.  “I’d pitch in too wherever I could, obviously.”

“But it’s been tough for a number of years.”

Brock paused.  It had been tough for a number of years.  It had been really tough for a number of years.  He nodded his head.  “Yes ma’am.  I try to take it day by day.”

Esther nodded as well.  “I don’t know if you pray, Brock, but I know a couple of members around the circle do, and, well – you’ll be kept in all our prayers.”

Brock saw a few people nod their head.  Another older woman, probably his mom’s age, clutching a rosary; a Sikh man dressed in a casual suit; a younger woman, probably in her thirties, with short blonde hair.  He appreciated the sentiment.  He knew that people took prayer very seriously – that people suffering took prayer very seriously.  It was, realistically, one of the kindest things somebody could ever say to you: “I’m praying for you.”  “Thank you very much,” he said, nodding his head once.

***

There was an arrangement of cookies at the end of the meeting.  Even after the 90 minutes of everybody talking about their experiences and emotions, they apparently liked to stick around afterwards as well just to mingle.  It didn’t all have to be doom and gloom, he thought.  It didn’t all have to be about Parkinson’s or about sick people or losing your loved ones all the time.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about the news.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about sports.  The weather.  Anything.  Anything to make a connection with someone beyond something so tragic.  

After stuffing an entire Fudge-O cookie into his mouth, he looked up to see a young woman staring at him, holding her trenchcoat in her arms.  She was smiling to let him know she was friendly.  He was embarrassed because he knew she just saw him stuff an entire Fudge-O into his mouth.  “Hi,” he said, his mouth still full of cookie, the sound of his voice reflecting that fact.

“You’re Brock Boeser, right?” she asked sweetly.  “You play for the Vancouver Canucks?”

“Yeah,” Brock couldn’t help but smile.  He swallowed the rest of the cookie even though he didn’t really finish chewing it.  “That’s me.  Are you a fan?”

“My step-brothers are more so than I am,” she said.  “But I’m a fan of the team, yeah.  I’m Grace Gillespie,” she extended her hand to shake his.  “God, they’re not gonna believe me when I say I met you.  They’re gonna freak.”

Brock couldn’t help but chuckle slightly.  “Do you—I mean, do you want a picture?  I don’t mind at all.  I’ll sign an autograph on a napkin if you want me to.”

“Well…it’s a bit awkward to ask you at a Parkinson’s Society of BC meeting, but we could go to the Starbucks down the street and I could buy you a coffee.”

Brock was slightly taken aback at her forwardness.  He shouldn’t have been.  Girls came up to him all the time.  All the time.  And they were most definitely not shy.  But he wasn’t exactly expecting it to happen here, of all places.  A bar, sure.  Out with Petey or any of the other guys, absolutely.  But not here.  “Yeah…yeah sure,” he stuttered out.

“Then we should go,” Grace smiled.  She turned to look behind her.  Brock saw Esther picking up a few Oreos.  “Thank you for leading another great session, Esther,” Grace said.  

“Oh you are most welcome Miss Gillespie.  How is Hamish these days?  You didn’t speak much today.”

“He’s been doing fine lately.  His caregivers have been working around the clock for him.  They just work wonders, don’t they?”

Esther nodded.  “They are angels on Earth.  Anyways – we’ll catch up next week,” she said, leaning slightly on her leg to look beyond Grace and to Brock.  “I hope to see you here again next week, Brock.”

“Thank you, Esther.  See you next week,” he said, realizing he made the commitment before he could even realize what he was saying.

***

“I take that was your first meeting?” Grace asked as she set down the two lattes on the table against the window where Brock was waiting.  

“Was it really obvious?” Brock asked.

Grace shrugged her shoulders.  She didn’t want to make him feel self-conscious.  “It was the stuttering that gave it away, at least to me.  I know I stuttered a lot the first few times I came to these meetings.  I wasn’t the most comfortable talking about my dad’s condition to a room full of virtual strangers.  But within just a few months I realized the people in that room are the kindest, most empathetic, most amazing people that I’ve ever interacted with.  So I became a lot more open.”

Brock was transfixed by every word that Grace was saying.  “So you’ve been coming here a long time,” he said.

Grace nodded.  “My dad got diagnosed with Parkinson’s when I was fourteen.  I didn’t start coming here until I was about eighteen, though.”

Brock knew he shouldn’t ask.  He knew he shouldn’t.  But his brain had ulterior motives, and his mouth – well, his mouth listened to his brain, because it apparently needed to know.  “Is your—is your dad like my dad?” he asked.  “Does he have, like, other problems complicating things?”

Grace shook her head.  “No,” she said softly.  “But the Parkinson’s is enough for him.  I mean he was diagnosed just short of ten years ago and he’s already on puréed foods.  It’s not—I mean, you know as well as I do that it doesn’t regularly develop that fast.  But that’s…I don’t know how you do it.”

Brock didn’t know either.  Some days he didn’t.  “I just take it day by day,” he said simply, just like he said in the meeting.  “If I think about it too much…that’s when it’s bad.”

“I hear ya,” Grace said, taking a sip of her coffee.  “But let’s…not talk about this for too long.  Do you like Vancouver?  Do you find it nice?”

Brock appreciated the change in topic.  “I love it here,” he nodded his head, smiling.  “The city’s great.  The fans are great.  My teammates – I mean they’re amazing.  What do you do?”

“I’m a dance teacher at Goh Ballet – little kids and teens, mostly.”

He wasn’t expecting that.  She was drop dead gorgeous, sure – Brock wasn’t blind – but he wasn’t expecting to hear she was a dancer.  “Do you, like, dance in the real ballet?”

Grace snorted slightly at his phrasing of ‘real ballet’.  “No.  I pursued it only up until a certain point.  I was good, but uh, I stopped when my dad got diagnosed.”

“Why?  Don’t they always tell people like us to have, like, an outlet or whatever?”

“They do.  But I loved my dad more than I loved dance.  And I would have rather spent the time that I was spending on dance with him instead.”

He understood where she was coming from, and he wasn’t there to judge her.  “And your brothers you mentioned, did they help too?”

“Oh no no no.  Sorry – I should have specified.  I’m an only child.  Like, the only child between my parents.  But they divorced when I was six and when my mom re-married I gained two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo.”

“How was the divorce?” Brock found himself asking.

“You ever see footage of a nuclear bomb exploding?” Grace giggled as she asked the question.  It caused Brock to laugh too even though the analogy she was making was dreadful.  “It was awful.  The type of divorce nobody deserves, you know?  I became a pawn, basically, and my parents would only speak to each other through lawyers.  Even stuff concerning me.  It was bad.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“It was.  But it’s the only life I know,” she said.  “He was lucky my mom ended up marrying another rich guy.  I mean, my mom only marries rich men,” she giggled slightly again.  “That’s how Jasper and Theo became my step-brothers.”

“So your family has money?” Brock clarified.  “What’s it from?  Dad a lawyer or something?”

“Not exactly,” Grace said.  “My dad and his brothers own a private equity firm that started like this,” she pinched her fingers together, “and went like…” she continued, spreading her fingers and moving her hands around her like a bomb explosion.  “Gillespie Brothers Investments.  I’m sure as a Vancouver Canuck you’ve heard of them.  I mean they wanted to buy the Canucks before the Aquilinis.”

Brock hadn’t heard of them, but he now knew he’d have to do some snooping when he got home. “I haven’t heard of them.  But I mean – sounds like they were successful.”

“Three billion dollars is pretty successful to me,” Grace quipped.

“B—Billion,” Brock sputtered out.  “With a B.”

“With a B,” Grace nodded.  Brock had no idea he was sitting across from the daughter of a billionaire.  She didn’t act like a billionaire.  Not like Brock knew what billionaires acted like.  He’d never met one before in his life.  Well, besides Francesco.  “But tell me more about what you like about Vancouver.  What about the nature?  I always kind of fine a good long walk along the Seawall or through Stanley Park really clears my mind from all…this.  What about you?”

Brock smiled.  “I find the white noise of downtown clears my mind.”

***

“You want my number,” Grace said as a statement rather than a question as she and Brock exited the Starbucks.  They were kicked out.  They’d been there for so long that they’d been kicked out because they were closing.  Their coffees had gotten cold.  They hadn’t ordered new ones.  And now they found themselves on the deserted sidewalk, jackets put on hastily, and Grace came up with that.

Brock looked down at her.  They’d been able to look into each other’s soul for the past few hours.  “Of course I want your number,” he said.  There was no reason to hide it.  No reason to deny it.  No reason to have to wait until next week to see her again as they sat around in a circle in a community centre talking about their parents.

He took out his phone.  She gave him her number.  He texted his name to hers so she’d have his.  When that dance was done, she looked up at him.  “I’m really glad I met you tonight,” she said, her voice sincere.

Brock nodded.  “I’m glad I met you too.  I—I really enjoyed this.  And I mean—I needed it.”

Grace smiled, nodding her head.  “I needed it too.”

“D’you—” Brock stopped, trying not to get too far ahead of himself.  “D’you need a ride home?”

“Oh no no, my driver is right there,” she motioned her head towards a black Mercedes waiting by the curb.

Brock hadn’t noticed the car until now.  “Chauffeur?”

“Billionaire dad,” she winked.  Brock understood.  She took a few steps back before smiling one more time.  “Call me,” she said, before flipping her hair over her shoulder and walking towards the Mercedes and getting into the backseat.  Brock watched as it drove off, making a right at the end of the street.

He would definitely be calling.

[lady-of-the-lotus]

Xuexiao Goes to the DMV

Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen go to the DMV (aka Where Hope Goes To Die) and share a kiss.

That’s it. That’s the fic.

Xuexiao - T (just for some cursing) - Read on AO3!

*

“If you hear about someone going berserk in a DMV on the news, that’ll be me,” the mechanical text-to-speech voice reads aloud, and Xiao Xingchen turns to Xue Yang questioningly.

Xue Yang reaches over and turns the volume down on Xingchen’s phone. “Meant to send that to A-Qing.”

“Are we going to be escorted out? Again?”

Xue Yang grins and looks around the room. They’ve already been at the DMV for over an hour. Dozens of people are draped limply over the hard orange seats, eyes glazed, going down for the third time in a sea of government bureaucracy.

“Ticket 4352, now being served at window thirty-three,” announces the robotic voice over the loudspeaker.

“It would take an alien invasion to wake these people up,” Xue Yang says as a man in overalls shuffles past. “You should see these people. This must be what a lobotomy post-op recovery room looks like.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Like the world’s most incompetent deli, filled with zombie customers waiting to eat the brains of whatever the opposite of employee of the month is. Well, ‘brains.’ They work at the DMV, after all.”

Xiao Xingchen adjusts his sunglasses. “Let's not be mean.”

“And we can all hear you,” adds a woman on his left. “Not that it made much sense.”

Xue Yang makes a face at her and turns back to Xingchen. “If they make me come back a third time, I’m going to go postal. You know, going postal should be called ‘going DMV.’ It’s catchier, for one thing, and I’ve never so much as stepped foot in a post office—”

“I’m keeping you far away from post offices. Those poor people have suffered enough.”

“How so?”

“Well, there must be a reason they go postal, right?”

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. “If the post office has the same taste in music as the DMV, I don’t blame them. Who picked this station? If it’s not Justin Bieber it’s whoever inflicted ‘Kiss Me Through the Phone’ on the world. I’d like to do something to them through the phone, and it won’t be a kiss, I can tell you that much.”

Xiao Xingchen takes a Snickers bar out of the fanny pack Xue Yang has vainly begged him not to wear. “According to the television commercials, this will improve your mood.”

“My mood?” Xue Yang takes a bite. “If I have to hear ‘Baby’ one more time—”

“Ticket 9753, now being served at window fourteen.”

“ ‘Served.’ Ha. As if.”

Xiao Xingchen feels around for another Snickers bar but comes up empty. He should have planned this better. He’d sensed Xue Yang’s mood coming on last night as Xue Yang went through his documents. He’d been cheerful enough until he found his birth certificate in the bundle of papers he’d been given after leaving his last group home.

Then he’d grown strangely quiet, and wandered aimlessly around their apartment for an hour, carrying his phone around with him and switching between a half-dozen different YouTube videos before deciding to bake brownies at 1am and burning them when he got distracted playing video games. He wasn’t paying much attention to the video game, either, going by his cursing as he got repeatedly blown up by what Xingchen suspects was a twelve-year old somewhere in Japan, and eventually gave that up to go take apart their toaster in the interest of “fixing” it.

Now he sits beside Xingchen, jiggling his leg. Xiao Xingchen wants to ask him about his birth certificate, but he hadn't dared to last night, and doesn’t dare now.

“Ticket 9755, now being served at Window 26.”

“Weren’t you 9754?” he asks Xue Yang.

“Oh, crap—” Xue Yang jumps to his feet and rushes to Window 26, brushing past a mohawked man holding a ticket marked 9755. “I’m 9754.”

The woman behind the glass may as well have been carved from wood. “You missed your number.”

“There was no announcement!”

“Or your number isn’t working. It’s not showing up on my computer.”

“What the hell does that mean? I’m on the screen! Look!” Xue Yang jabs a finger at the screen above the booth. At the bottom of the list it reads Ticket 9754 – Window 26. “9754! Window 26! All you need to do is take my picture—”

“Get back in line. Get a new ticket. Window 13.”

“Get back in line?” He looks over at the line for Window 13. It wraps around the entire room. “I already have a number! I’m on the screen!”

“Back. In. Line.”

“Just take the damn photo—”

Xingchen lays a hand on his arm. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll get back in line.”

“Like hell we will! I’ve been here since 5 o’clock—I made an appointment! I even brought my own pen! You ever watch Monsters Inc.? You know Roz? Are you her evil older sister? Because you look exactly like—”

“Back of the line.”

“Younger sister, then. Happy?”

The woman doesn’t bother shrugging. “You’re blocking traffic.”

Xingchen begins to move, heading in the wrong direction. Xue Yang has no choice but to follow or else let him walk into a column plastered with posters emblazoned with, Make your visit easy - download the forms at dmv.gov! , Streamline your visit - make an appointment online today!, and We’re here to help!

“Let’s just go home,” says Xue Yang. “The gray, water stained walls are starting to close in. At any second I expect a giant ball to roll towards us. Well, wrong movie—whatever. I’m sick of this place. It’s cursed.”

“We’re just going to have to come back, and you’ll have wasted the hour we already spent here.”

Xue Yang groans and gets in line behind a woman with three small screaming children. “This whole thing is stupid. We can barely afford rent, let alone a car."

"We will, one day. Besides, it's good to have a license."

"We’ll just take trains and buses everywhere, or you can learn to drive. We'll fudge the vision test."

Xingchen laughs. Xue Yang relaxes slightly at the sound. After a moment, Xingchen slips his hand in his. He’s not one for public displays of affection, but there’s an edge in Xue Yang’s voice that has nothing to do with his return to Window 13.

Xue Yang’s hand tightens in his, and Xingchen rubs it reassuringly with his thumb.

“You again?” says the woman at Window 13 when they finally make it there, twenty minutes later.

“That power-mad dictator at Window 26 wouldn’t take my picture.”

The woman tilts her head at Xue Yang. “She wouldn’t?”

Xue Yang tilts his head back at her, as if to say, I know! Who wouldn’t want to photograph me ?

She smiles, a synthetic smile that reminds Xue Yang of his friend Lan Xichen’s dimpled little fiance. “Strange.”

“ ‘Strange’? I knew she could have just done it had she wanted to—”

The woman blinks at him, her smile growing faker by the minute. “I’m sure what she told you was accurate.”

“Sure, and there is no war in Ba-Sing-Se—”

Xiao Xingchen squeezes his hand, and Xue Yang stops talking and passes her his form. She stamps it a second time and hands him another ticket.

He and Xingchen return to the waiting area. Xue Yang puts his boots up on the seat next to him, resting his head on Xingchen’s shoulder.

“Describe the room to me again,” Xingchen says, trying to distract him from his brooding and, with any luck, keep him from taking out his Swiss army knife and carving his initials into the seat and get them kicked out again. Xue Yang has a talent for describing things, and Xingchen has been trying to encourage him to start writing.

Xue Yang begins to play with his long sleek ponytail. “Purgatory’s antechamber. Humanity’s lost-and-found. A void where time has no meaning. Pit of despair and industrial cleaner.”

Xingchen chuckles, making sure it’s loud enough for Xue Yang to hear.

“If their posters were honest, they’d all be in Comic Sans font, with things like, Where hope goes to die; This is your home now; Nothing escapes our pull, not even time; Human sacrifices while you wait—”

“Human sacrifices?”

"Yeah, I think so."

A crackle of static over the speaker as a new song comes on. “You know you love me, I know you care...Just shout whenever and I'll be there….”

Xue Yang starts up violently, but Xiao Xingchen gently pulls him back down beside him. “Some kind of cannibal conspiracy?” he asks, hoping Xue Yang’s knife has remained in his pocket and is not seconds away from being embedded in a blaring loudspeaker.

Xue Yang settles back against his shoulder. “I’m positive Overalls Guy never returned from Window 17. He’s probably in the office barbecue pit.”

“This must go all the way to the top. Shift supervisor too, I’d guess.”

“Baby, baby, baby oh….Like baby, baby, baby no….”

Xue Yang stops playing with his hair and starts picking at his black nail polish. He’s feeling a bit better, Xingchen’s shoulder warm and solid. “I swear that Roz lady put a curse on me. They all probably dance in a circle around a stack of burning Social Security cards every night, chanting.” He squirms, suddenly bored. “You got any more food? I’m starving.”

Xingchen rummages in his fanny pack. “Just a burned brownie.”

“I swear I set a timer!"

The timer had gone off while Xingchen was in the shower last night. Xue Yang had simply ignored it, too absorbed in trying to virtually blow up his twelve-year-old nemesis. He tends to ignore timers while cooking, usually followed by a mad rush to the kitchen to salvage dinner. “You know dinner is ready when the smoke detector goes off,” he likes to say.

Xue Yang sniffs the crumpled foil surrounding the charred black brownie chunk. “Is this the same foil I wrapped your tuna sandwich in yesterday?”

“We only have one earth!”

“Xingchen, I swear—” Xue Yang stops, rolling his eyes fondly. He’s never met anyone who can be so annoying and endearing at the same time.

Xingchen takes the brownie back. “I'll eat it. I like the burned bits.”

"It's all burned bits."

"Exactly. Perfect."

“She knows she's got me dazing, 'cause she was so amazin'....And now my heart is breakin', but I just keep on sayin'....”

“Who wrote this? I swear I won’t hurt them. I just want their address.”

Xingchen knows he shouldn’t laugh at that, but he can’t help it.

They sit there for another half hour, talking. Xue Yang has succeeded in denuding the nails of his left hand when his number is finally called. He gets his photo taken by a man with glazed eyes and no chin, and is shuffled off to the next waiting area.

“They refused to show me my photo,” he says as they settle back down. “I swear the camera stole my soul and is using it to power the fluorescent lights. I feel at peace now. Kind of floating.” He discovers a piece of gum in his jeans pocket and begins to loudly blow bubbles, making full eye contact with the annoyed Bluetooth Guy and irritated Woman With Facial Tattoo Of Bugs Bunny. “I am one with the DMV demigods, part of something larger than myself.”

“Like joining the army.”

“Or drowning in the ocean.” He lays down with his head in Xingchen’s lap, boots on the edge of Bluetooth Guy’s seat. “Why does your fanny pack smell like patchouli? Have you been burning weird hippie incense again? You promised you’d stop after you set fire to your curtains.”

Xingchen would rather Xue Yang didn’t semi-cuddle him in public, but Xue Yang’s energy is calmer when he’s touching Xingchen, and he lets him stay. “It’s that new candle you bought me, remember?”

“Right. Bought you.”

“What do you—”

“I thought it was peppermint.”

Xingchen bites his lip. Xue Yang is…well, he can read well enough to pass a driving test, but his education was…slipshod at best. Next on Xingchen’s list is encouraging Xue Yang to get his GED.

“You smell like a music festival,” says Xue Yang. “I must have grabbed the wrong one in the store. I sniffed all of them. My picture is probably hanging beside the register of every Bath & Body Works in town: ‘Beware the Candle Perv’—”

“At least someone was willing to take your picture.”

Xue Yang laughs. Xingchen rests a hand on his chest, heedless of the people around them. He likes how Xue Yang feels when he laughs, his whole body shaking, making no attempt to hide his feelings. Xue Yang makes him laugh so often, it’s a special joy for him to return the favor.

They’ve been there almost two and a half hours when Xue Yang’s number is finally called. As if the DMV curse is kicking in again, the loudspeakers creep up another few decibels.

“Like baby, baby, baby no, like baby, baby, baby oh, thought you'd always be mine, mine….”

“Xue Yang—” Xingchen starts before Xue Yang can say anything.

“I know, I know. This is penance for my putting that egg in Song Lan’s shoe last week. The DMV knows all. The DMV was here before us, and will be here after we are gone. The DMV—”

“—The DMV will make us wait in line again, if we don’t hurry.”

Together they go to Window 10, where a drab little man sifts through Xue Yang’s documents. “Fifties, balding, completely dead inside,” Xue Yang whispers to Xingchen.

“I’m thirty-nine,” says the man in a monotone, not looking up, “and you’re missing a birth certificate. And what’s this stain on your Social Security card?”

“Definitely not blood.”

The man stares at him with eyes that, had his life force not already been sucked out of Xue Yang by an afternoon at the DMV, would have done the job. “Current passport, or birth certificate.”

Xue Yang hesitates, then slips a folded piece of pink paper under the glass partition.

The man unfolds it with the sterling speed of a drugged snail and spreads it over the counter. He lines up Xue Yang’s Social Security card, bank statement, and birth certificate, and examines them line by line as if he’s a Bletchley Circle analyst and Xue Yang’s documents are intercepted enemy transmissions.

He looks up at Xue Yang. “Is this a valid birth certificate? There are no parent names listed, and the date of birth has an asterisk—”

“I know what it has!”

“What’s your date of birth?” The man slowly pushes his chair back. “I’m going to have to get a supervisor—”

Xue Yang slams the counter. Xingchen lays a hand on his arm. It’s a miracle Xue Yang’s knife isn’t out. “Don’t you fucking dare! This is what they do when—just Google it, okay? I don’t know what day I was born, they just put whatever date they thought was accurate—”

Xingchen swallows hard.

He had known Xue Yang had grown up in foster care, but had assumed he had been given up by his parents as a child when they could no longer take care of him.

Not—not abandoned as an infant—

“And change the fucking station!” Xue Yang adds. “If I have to hear that stupid fucking song one more time I will go fucking berserk —”

The man’s dead-eyed stare intensifies. “Sign here,” he says after a moment, pushing a slip of paper at Xue Yang.

“You want my love, you want my heart….And we will never, ever, ever be apart…”

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Xingchen asks as they step outside. The words sound hollow, and he wishes he had simply remained silent.

Xue Yang takes a deep breath. It’s almost cool out, a welcome change from the week’s heat. “Well, we escaped. Now we just have to get help for the others. Or do we abandon them to their fates? I vote we abandon them. You should have seen some of the looks I got. It’s like they never saw someone threaten a DMV employee before, something I’m willing to bet happens a dozen times an hour.”

Xingchen takes his arm as he begins to walk. It’s easier than using his stick in the crowded city. “Xue Yang…”

Xue Yang’s muscles tense beneath his arm. “What?”

“Nothing.” He bites his lip. He’ll have Xue Yang feeling better soon enough. “What street are we on? Turn in on 33rd.”

“What’s on 33rd?”

“Just let me know when we’re there. 33rd and 7th.”

“The train’s on 36th.”

“But the restaurant’s on 33rd.”

“The what?”

Xingchen wants to smile, but is afraid Xue Yang might take it the wrong way after what happened at the DMV. For someone who does his best to project an I-don’t-care attitude, Xue Yang is surprisingly sensitive.

“What’s today’s date?” He already knows the date, of course. It’s been on his mind for weeks now.

Xue Yang’s arm grows even stiffer. “Is this a ‘you-don’t-know-when-your-birthday-is-so-every-day-is-your-birthday’ thing? Because—”

“Not at all… Remember the day we met? You made fun of my shirt—”

Xue Yang frowns at this sudden change of subject, but goes along with it. Better than talking about that damn birth certificate. “It was white, and ruffled. You looked like an escapee from a high school production of Hamlet. What was I supposed to do?”

“You crashed a motorcycle not three feet from me. An unregistered motorcycle with stolen plates.”

"I bought you coffee to make up for it, didn’t I?”

“You had them put four sugars in my cappuccino. It was undrinkable.”

“One was a Splenda, and anyway I took you to dinner to make up for the coffee, didn’t I?”

“Pizza at one of those dollar-a-slice places you have to stand at a counter to eat. I paid for it.”

“And I paid for your kombucha, whatever the heck that is.”

“And I paid for the band-aids we had to go buy after you cut yourself after playing catch with your knife.”

“You were distracting me!”

“I was quietly eating my pizza.”

“The light reflecting off your shirt ruffles got in my eyes.”

“Four dollars for the band-aids. You insisted on Hello Kitty.”

“Spongebob was also on the table." He wrinkles his nose. "I've got about three-fifty in my pocket, if you want it. But what’s your point, exactly?'

Xingchen smiles. He enjoys winding up Xue Yang, and it’s by far the most effective way to distract him when he’s in a dark mood. “Just that you better not put extra sugar in the fondue.”

“The what?”

“A-Qing read me the dessert menu. Chocolate fondue with bananas, blueberries, pineapple, and cherries. Strawberries, too, I think, and marshmallows, maybe even non-charred brownies—”

Xue Yang stops walking. “Xingchen—”

Xingchen lets go of Xue Yang’s arm, takes his hand instead. Kisses him soundly, right there on Sixth Avenue.

“Forget your birthday," he says. "We have a new date to celebrate every year." He gives Xue Yang's hand a little squeeze and kisses him again. “Happy anniversary, Xue Yang.”

*

Liked it? AO3 👉👈

Ruffle shirt reference

Obviously, Xue Yang was simply distracted by how pretty Xingchen was.

[anac-arb]

I want a “what if” fic where Draco goes to the infirmary because Hermione break his nose and he sees them take out the time turner and decides to tag along with out really knowing what he’s doing.

Hemione pulling out her wand and threatening him to leave the Malfoy family with no dessendants if he interferes with their plans. He having to go with them because they don’t trust him not to mess things up.

Draco: So they just gave you a dangerous piece of magic because you wanted to be a bigger swot????

...

Hermione: Is that really what my hair looks like from the back?

Draco: See? It does look like a bird nest!

Harry elbowed him in the ribs.

...

Draco: I AM NOT SAVING THAT CHICKEN!

Hermione: You make one wrong move Malfoy and I let him eat your stupid brains.

Draco: They don’t eat brains......

Draco: Do they?

Harry smirks

Draco: Did you really just went back in time to save that thing???

Harry: No, to save Sirius Black.

Draco: ARE YOU MENTAL?? THAT’S THE STUPIDEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD! HE WANTS TO KILL YOU POTTER!! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE!?!

Harry: I wonder the same thing at least once a week...

...

Harry explaining Sirius being innocent. Draco actually feeling bad about it knowing he’s family.

...

Draco: So...

Hermione: Shut up.

Draco: What are we waiting for?

Harry: The werewolf.

Draco: ha..ha..

Draco: ....

Draco: YOU’RE NOT BLOODY KIDDING, ARE YOU???? I should’ve known! Follow Potter, end in the forbidden forest! I should’ve known!!!! I told you there were werewolves in here Potter! I TOLD YOU!!!

Harry (trying not to laugh): shhhh

Hermione actually trying to calm him down.

...

Draco being impressed by Harry casting the patronus.

...

Draco: I AM NOT RIDING THE CHICKEN!!!!

...

Sirius asking who the new kid is and telling Draco it’s nice to know Cissy’s kid. Draco being a little emotional about meeting Sirius too but just nodding and trying to act like it doesn’t matter.

...

They realizing Snape and Fudge are about to entre the infirmary and Draco walking up to them before Harry and Hermione can realize what is happening. The gryffindors thinking he’s about to tell on them.

Draco: I demand retaliation!

Dumbledore (looking funny at him): I’m afraid there is nothing we can do about the hippogriff, Mr. Malfoy.

Draco: I am talking about Granger, she hit me, marred my perfect face...my mother will not be pleased to know I have yet another scar! (Makes dramatic gestures while telling Harry and Hermione to move with his eyes.) Do you see it?? Look!

Dumbledore playing along and smiling complicitly.

...

Ron being shocked but grudgingly accepting that Malfoy was somewhat decent for once.

...

Draco receiving a letter from Sirius and beginning their pen pal relationship.

.

.

.

Probably to be continued.

English is not my first language and I wrote this in a rush because I couldn’t stop daydreaming about it so please excuse any spelling or gramatical mistakes.

[levihantrash]

Priorities

For Levihan week Aug 2021 Day 2 prompt: confessions

Also based on a cute ass tumblr prompt by @sanothebreadpup <3 hope you like it!!

Summary: It’s been a while since Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long. Erwin suggested going to Levi for advice on managing prioritises. Instead, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

note: no smut but lots of spicy poetic touching

cross-posted on ao3 🤪

-----

Hange wanted to confess. It had been months since they knew that their best friend status with Levi could potentially be tweaked to include just a bit more romance, and they knew they had to be the one to take that step. As much as Levi was quick-witted on the battlefield, he wasn’t quite the risk-taker in ordinary settings. In fact, Hange figured Levi would sip tea beside them until he was greying and would probably be as content with the arrangement.

Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long.

Out-of-the-blue, though characteristically charismatic, Erwin gave the soldiers a pep-talk on how they need to know what to prioritise (i.e., humanity's victory).

Inspired, though the speech’s intended audience was clearly for new recruits, Hange tried to prioritise their tasks. Within a day, they got overwhelmed, the list being more of a reason for delay than for action. Moblit, well-meaning as always, tried to get Hange to focus on one at a time but that was unthinkable to them. One at a time meant that the confession would never happen. There was too much to research. Too much at stake. Too much for one inconsequential confession.

Unknowingly, Erwin saw Hange wringing their hands, muttering to themselves in the dining hall.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t prioritise the important stuff,” Hange grumbled. Perking up at the mention of priorities, Erwin advised Hange to seek Levi’s guidance.

“Levi only does one thing at a time once he sets his heart on it.”

Eager for a chance encounter with someone they technically already hung out with on most days, Hange asked Levi for help. More accurately, in perhaps the most roundabout manner, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

“For research,” Hange said, almost convinced by their own performance.

“You can do that yourself,” Levi said reasonably.

While starting a task was horrendously difficult, Hange was not one to give up once they began on one.

“You’re the only one here who can bake.”

Eyes narrowed, arms folded, Levi was not buying the compliment. He had a pile of papers left to read. Hange’s whims could be settled by someone with more well-matched interests and time management.

“Go ask Petra.”

Hovering nearby with another paper for her captain to sign, Petra noticed Hauge's crestfallen face.

“It’s not about the baking being done but who Hange is doing the baking with,” Petra whispered, as discreetly as she could.

"I'm busy," Levi said, loud enough for Hange to hear, heedless of Petra’s input.

“Alright.” Hange sighed, internally fuming that they should’ve found a more legitimate excuse. Bluff out something like Erwin’s orders. Levi followed Erwin’s orders without question. Hange’s requests were dealt with more scepticism. Not that Hange had the best track record of requests.

In the end, Hange prepared the baking supplies, because even if titans couldn’t stomach cake, it was an experimental endeavour. Practically speaking, they could give some baked goods to the juniors. Maybe even gift some to Levi.

Stumbling into the kitchen with too many ingredients in hand, they found Levi leaning against the entrance looking positively sullen. Upon spotting Hange, his face morphed into a more acceptable, neutral expression, nodding towards them.

"I thought you were busy!"

Levi shrugged, grabbing some of the ingredients from their arms. "I was. Didn't you want to bake?"

“I guess?”

The sudden change of mind was too abrupt for Hange to wrap their head around. A hopeful glow had unfortunately begun growing in them. Levi was being exceptionally nice today. No doubt that he was usually nice. Just not will-bake-for-your-titans kind of nice.

"Erwin said that you are really good at prioritising tasks,” Hange said, slowly digging through the cabinets for the utensils.

"Huh. Let me guess—he wants you to learn from me."

Hange scratched their head absent-mindedly. "He did tell me to ask you."

"I'm not actually very good at sticking to a task,” Levi admitted, wondering where in hell Erwin got the idea that he was focused. If he were, the paperwork would have been submitted, instead of lying around, flapping aimlessly in the wind before Petra (and Oluo) offered their generous help. He refused—every time. Levi was simply good at keeping a blank face and reporting to Erwin that he needed more time, which Erwin must have mistaken as a sign of seriousness than a sign of procrastination.

“You are! You finished work before coming have, didn't you?”

Levi didn’t breathe out a word, silently pouring through the book of recipes.

"What do you want to bake?"

Hange didn’t mind his lack of response, pondering over his poor cover-up question. "Something easy. What about bread?"

"Bread isn’t easy."

Difficulties translated into the promise of adventure for Hange. Pumped up, Hange prodded at the picture of an unremarkable loaf of chocolate banana bread.

"Let's do it anyway!"

“Suit yourself.”

-----

The small touches were the ones that were hardest to ignore. Hange felt the accidental-deliberate brush of Levi’s elbow when he reached over to choose an ingredient. Other times, he guided their hand with the right amount of strength for stirring the batter. His fingers over their stirring hand were firm and reassuring.

“You’re stirring too fast,” Levi said patiently.

“You’re distracting me,” Hange replied half-heartedly.

“Oh, am I?” The fingers left Hange’s hand. Just as Hange was about to lament their moment of folly in allowing that to happen, the fingers reached out towards their face. Forcing in a breath, Hange felt Levi’s thumb rub out a chocolate stain at the side of their lip.

“How did the chocolate get there?” Levi murmured, more to himself than to them.

“I was snacking on some of the chocolate bits a while ago…” Hange said cheekily, licking the side of their lips only to realise that Levi’s thumb was still there. Their tongue brushed his finger, and in that contact, Hange was ready to collapse from self-generated sexual tension.

Though his eyes widened noticeably, Levi quickly resumed his blasé expression. Rubbing the rest of the stain out, he walked to the tap to wash his hands. There was some hesitation, before he hurriedly turned on the tap, letting the water run for two seconds over his hands before going back to his position next to Hange.

Unsure as to whether to be offended or pleased by the sight of Levi cleaning the evidence of their encounter with such carelessness, Hange busied themselves with breaking eggs and separating yolk. If it had been Levi with a finger lined with fudge, Hange would’ve licked it spotless. With permission, of course.

To pay him back in kind, Hange plotted their own routine of touch as well. The touches became bolder, starting innocently enough. From casually brushing away hair that was poking Levi’s eye, to going behind Levi who was busy slicing up bananas and placing both hands on the counter. Their arms were now on either side of him, conveniently taller than him so that their head could peer right over his shoulder. The cutting didn’t cease—it only got more rapid, the bananas becoming neat circles in a matter of seconds. Hange let out an impressed whistle, hands not leaving the counter.

“Stop distracting me.”

“Oh, am I?”

One drop of the knife, and a swift turn later, Levi found himself staring straight into Hange’s bright, beautiful, heavily eye-bagged orbs.

"Hange, do you know why I'm in the kitchen at 2am baking for some shit-brained monsters?"

“Titans don’t have—”

“Because I have priorities.” Levi interrupted, not allowing Hange to clarify what the physical anatomy of titan subjects entailed.

Hange blinked, maintaining an oblivious exterior. “Your priorities include titan research?”

“You know what I was going to say.”

“Somewhat. I want to hear you say it out loud, though.”

Grimacing, he concentrated his gaze on Hange’s collar instead. Skin flushed, collarbones peeking out mischievously. Bad idea.

“You little shit.”

Their laugh was quieter, milder than the ones they let out on other days. “My favourite little shit! So what are your priorities?”

“Wiping the blades. Cleaning the toilet. Dusting under the tables. Doing laundry. Having enough tea. Baking with a scientist who thinks—”

Hange pressed a gentle hand on his mouth. “I get it.”

“Which part do you get?” Levi asked, enjoying the fact that when he moved his lips, they grazed Hange’s palm. How would it be like to replace that hand with their mouth?

“That you like me.” Hange grinned, tugging Levi by the straps of his apron just a bit closer.

An unexpected flash of clumsiness made Levi knock down the bag of flour, spilling it onto the floor. The fall clouded up the vicinity in white dust. Gaining confidence with obscured vision, Hange held the back of Levi’s head, tracing his undercut, admiring how his immaculately combed hair had come undone. An attractively dishevelled mess. Hange was in no hurry. Yet.

Levi, in a spur of restlessness, looked up at Hange questioningly. Eyeing their faint smirk, he tilted his head sideways, watching carefully for any sign of reluctance. An impatient “are you going to kiss me or not” from Hange; a straightforward command was what he needed to hear. No time was wasted pulling Hange into an urgent, searing kiss. Backed against the counter, hands cupping Hange’s face, Levi devoured the sensation. The taste of sugar, fruit, flour, and chocolate clung onto the entwinement, as Hange breathily pressed up against him. Erwin had warned them both. Love in the military meant the threat of loss. The possibility of sorrow. As he felt the rumble of Hange’s satisfying groan beneath his lips sending an unprecedented warmth through his body, he was certain. He would have loved Hange whether he kissed them or not. Death would happen, whether or not Hange rubbed his waist in soothing, awe-inspiring strokes. Right now, he would die in absolute bliss.

To be honest, Hange would’ve been disappointed if they didn’t end up fucking, or at least, aggressively kissing eventually. Erwin’s advice was only a stronger reminder that Hange was never one to be conservative. They loved Levi, as a comrade, as a friend, as the person whom they would kill for, if it meant saving his life. Still, having Levi sneak a hand into the bareness of their back, sucking their neck with a hot tenderness that made their head spin, they knew that chastity and platonic hugging could not be the only option.

“We should’ve done this sooner,” Hange said, peeling away his jacket.

“Couldn’t tell when the right time was,” Levi said, starting on the buttons of Hange’s shirt.

The door creaked open.

“This is your idea of asking Levi for help?” Erwin said, a thick eyebrow raised as he surveyed the mess.

With some willpower, he stopped unbuttoning Hange’s shirt. Lightly pushing Hange away, Levi straightened up, less than pleased with the interruption.

“Erwin, you better have something worthwhile to say if you—”

“I’ll clean this up.” Erwin, fully recovered from his shock, was beaming.

“Huh?”

“It’s about time,” Erwin said, with the proud sincerity of an unwitting matchmaker, gesturing towards the door.

“We owe you one, Erwin!” Hange waved at him on the way out, while Levi cast him a grateful, wary glance. With his hand was secure on their back, and Hange’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, there was no care for an audience. Only the smell of baked goods and unfinished business fuelled their steps towards a private space. A place where they would end up in each other’s arms—spent, sweaty, and deliriously at peace.