#hes a bit more rebellious. hes 'fresh'

[supurman-a]

this continues to be one of the best character designs dc did off drop ever. and the #1 character design for a super character. like... cooked so hard

[gatorbites-imagines]

Okay okay but like, how do you feel about Mark x William x Reader? How do you think that’d be, Gator? 👀🙏

Mark Grayson x William Clockwell x Viltrumite male reader 

Headcanons 

Reader is a fellow viltrumite, cuz I had a request asking for William x viltrumite reader but it's just... gone, I can't find it in my inbox, but I know it was there. So, enjoy. 

Make reader the son of Thragg, just for angst and power purposes. Maybe he's a bit rebellious, by viltrumite standards. But its entertaining, so Thragg lets him live and grow up. Also, cuz reader is clearly the strongest offspring he's sired. 

Reader is older than Ursaal and Onaan, but not old enough to stay getting wrinkles and all that. 

Maybe this rebellious nature makes him go to earth, because “stop trying to control my life dad” that people go through.  

Earth is supposed to have been colonized or whatever, so Thragg just lets him. Plus, readers one of the strongest viltrumites and the strong can do whatever they want, ya know? 

I feel this would take place sometime after season one, but before everything started truly going insane. Or more insane than Nolan killing the guardians and all that. 

So, William and Mark are in college together, they are roommates. Mark wouldn't be with Amber anymore, or their relationship isn't really going anywhere. And William wouldn't be with Rick. 

I like to think the reader is smart enough to hide his viltrumite affiliation when he gets to earth. Plus, he's rebellious and it's not like his dad is here, so he shaves his moustache and he steals some clothes somewhere out in the galaxy. 

How the reader gets to earth and meets them for the first time is up in the air. It could be many ways, but at this point the GDA aren't as extreme as they become later on, and Mark is still on good terms with them. 

It probably becomes a deal that Mark has to keep an eye on you, since you are some great unknown and you are clearly strong. They have no idea how strong, but you aren't breaking a sweat when you help out doing hero work. 

You may be your father's favorite child, but you also know what it's like to suffer under his fist. To mold you into the kind of warrior he wants you to be, his eyes shining with pride when you always survive and come back stronger. 

The memory makes you sick, always has. Like something inside you always knew it was wrong and disgusting, what the viltrumites were doing. But when it's all you have ever known, then you just go along with it. 

Earth is a breath of fresh air, and though Mark is very wary of you, he still introduces you to how things work around here. 

And yeah, Mark may be a half-breed, but he is still attractive, in his own weird way. Hes not strong, at least he is nothing impressive, but he never backs down. Its admirable somehow. 

He makes you feel warm inside in a way you aren't used too. You care for your younger siblings in some kind of way, like, you don't want them to die, but you also wouldn't die for them. 

What you start feeling for Mark is stranger, warmer and passionate. It makes you angry and annoyed because it feels like a weakness. 

During this time, Mark would also have broken up with Amber if they hadn't already. Insert him having a whole gay/bi awakening because holy shit... he's feeling stuff for you of all people. 

When he has a conversation with William about his panic, it also clicks that what he feels for you, Mark also feels for William. He gets really awkward for a while, and William knows him enough to know something is up. 

Honestly, I think William and Mark would get together first. Like Mark would be pacing the room, flushed in the face, rambling about you, but then end up talking about William. 

William, who I believe has always had a bit of a torch for Mark would be stunned, but also knows he needs to act now before Mark loses all confidence. So, the two kiss, and end up fumbling through confessions and feelings and all that. 

Insert them falling back on one of their beds and just making out, touching and groping. They don't go further than that, Mark isn't ready, but afterwards William would joke about needing to meet you too. 

Meeting you would be an accident, throwing all their plans into the trash. Some villain shows up, and you end up saving William's life before Mark even gets to change and arrive as invincible. 

Insert William looking reader up and down and going “I see what you mean” to Mark. 

Imagine that you can smell that William and Marks are connected so you compliment mark on his “worthy choice of a mate”. It feels like a compliment even when worded like that, so they both feel a little flushed about it. 

In some way, you end up spending a lot more time with Mark and William, even outside of costume. I don't see you applying for college or anything, since you don't have a legal identity, but you spend time with them on the regular. 

When William starts making you feel all kinds of feelings in your chest, you want to go punch something or someone again. It feels like a massive weakness and you don't like it. 

Yalls confessions for each other would start because you accuse them of doing something to you, like poisoning you.  

You are about ready to kill them for this perceived threat, but also because you don't like feeling something so new and strange, it's scary. 

Then William would try to rationalize it and have you explain what they've done, and so starts you spilling all these strange weird feelings they make you feel. How they make your heart race, your hands clammy, how you feel unsteady even why you fly. It has to be a personal attack, right? 

Even as you get more worked up about it, Mark and William just start smiling and flushing, because it's so endearing to see you pace and try to understand all this. It also means a lot that you feel the same that they do. 

Just insert Mark going “hey, dude” and stopping your angry pacing with a hand on your shoulder. When you turn to glare at Mark, William would jump up and kiss your cheek and be all like “what you're feeling isn't poison, stupid. Its feelings. You know, the ones in there?” and poke your chest. 

You end up needing them to explain this whole dating culture on earth, what you are feeling, why it's okay, and that yes, they feel the same. Then you also get the conversation about descrimination, because they both know what will happen when they are open about the relationship. 

This results in them having to stop you from flying out and threatening the entire world with destruction if they don't accept lgbt+ and other minorities. William would say something like “we appreciate it big guy, but let's not destroy the planet, okay?” and kiss the readers chin. 

A relationship with those two can be a bit wild sometimes. There might also be some insecurity in the reader of not fitting their dynamic, since they've been friends for so long. 

Your sweet boyfriends, as earth don't call it mates, are just... so soft and kind. It makes your teeth ache sometimes. 

Like when Mark arrives with flowers for both you and William, or when he somehow shapes a cloud into a heart when you guys go patrolling. 

William is so affectionate in a way you aren't used too. You were left speechless when he shoves you down on the bed and straddles you, a smirk on his face as he gets comfortable. 

All the kissing has also left you reeling. They do it all the time, they run their tongues together for fun, and not for battle. They have to teach you how to kiss, because “as much as I love being devoured, this is too much babe” 

When the time comes when your father sends Anissa, you chase her off by force. When its Conquest, you are able to keep up with him and stake claim on this planet. 

And when the time comes to battle your father, because that time will come, you are ready to die for your beloveds.  

[gainercontent]

The Naughty List - Part 1

It was Christmas Eve, and 20-year-old Jason Price was in his usual rebellious mood. As the snow fell gently outside, blanketing the small suburban neighborhood in a layer of white, Jason lounged on his couch in a dark hoodie, earbuds securely in place, blasting music that was anything but festive. The rest of his family had gathered in the kitchen, baking cookies and humming carols, but Jason wasn’t having any of it. 

For years now, he'd grown cynical about Christmas. The magic he once believed in had been replaced with indifference and apathy. He hadn't cared about Santa Claus in ages, and to him, the holiday was just another marketing ploy to make people buy things they didn’t need. He never cared for the usual Christmas cheer—family gatherings, gift exchanges, the whole “being together” thing. In his mind, the whole season was just one big commercialized joke.

To make matters worse, Jason had learned that he was on Santa’s naughty list this year. Not that he cared; he’d long stopped worrying about whether or not he got presents. His rebellious nature had only grown over the years, and he wore it like a badge of honor. Sure, he’d gotten a few reminders from his parents, and even a half-hearted lecture about “the Christmas spirit,” but he had rolled his eyes and shrugged them off. If Santa didn’t like it, well, that was his problem.

The house was quiet, except for the sound of Christmas music drifting from the kitchen. Jason scrolled through his phone, avoiding the festivities and ignoring his family’s attempts to engage him. His mom had baked a fresh batch of gingerbread cookies, filling the house with the sweet, warm smell of cinnamon, nutmeg, and molasses. But Jason wasn’t in the mood for any of it. He wasn’t interested in the cookies, the hot cocoa, or even the Christmas tree standing tall in the corner of the living room, its lights twinkling with innocent holiday joy. 

He tossed a glance toward the window. The world outside was still, save for the occasional flurry of snowflakes that danced in the light from the streetlamps. Everything felt like it was frozen in time, caught between the present and the past, and Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t belong in this world of traditions anymore.

Suddenly, a strange noise broke his focus.

**Thud.**

It wasn’t the sound of a car driving by, or even the wind against the windows. It was too heavy, too deliberate. Jason sat up, pulling out his earbuds and staring at the ceiling as the sound came again.

**Thud.**

A faint rustle, like something—or someone—was shifting on the roof.

Jason furrowed his brow, rubbing his eyes. What the hell was that? He’d heard noises on the roof before—possibly squirrels or the occasional raccoon—but this was different. The thuds were slow, steady. Almost rhythmic.

**Thud. Thud.**

He shot a glance at the clock. It was well past midnight. His parents had long gone to bed, and there was no one else in the house. It was just him and the sound of whatever was walking—or stomping—on the roof. 

Jason got to his feet and cautiously moved toward the window, pulling back the heavy curtains just enough to peer outside. The yard was still—no one was out there. The sky was dark and clouded, and the only light was from the moon reflecting off the snow. He listened again, straining his ears for any sign of movement, but the thudding had stopped.

Confused and a bit unnerved, Jason shook his head. "Stupid raccoons," he muttered under his breath. He was about to turn away when a faint, sweet scent reached his nose. 

The smell of freshly baked cookies.

It was the same warm, spicy smell of his mom’s gingerbread cookies. But it wasn’t coming from the kitchen. Jason’s eyes widened as he looked toward the staircase. He could smell it more strongly now, wafting down the hall.

“Mom?” he called, but his voice was hoarse from sleep, barely a whisper.

No answer. His parents were definitely asleep—he would have heard them if they were up. Still, Jason’s feet moved almost on their own, pulling him into the hallway, the smell growing stronger as he passed the kitchen and toward the living room. But the cookies... weren’t coming from the kitchen. They were coming from the fireplace.

His breath caught in his throat. The fireplace. 

He hadn’t noticed it before, but now that he was paying attention, it was almost as if the whole room seemed... different. The Christmas tree lights were flickering in a way that made him feel dizzy. A low hum seemed to fill the air, almost like a song playing beneath everything else.

Jason took a hesitant step toward the fireplace. The hearth was cold, empty—nothing unusual. The chimney was clear, but that strange scent—those gingerbread cookies—lingered in the air like an invitation.

He was about to turn away when, out of nowhere, there was a loud **CRASH** from the roof.

This time, it wasn’t a thud or a rustle. It was a full-on slam, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps—big, heavy boots thumping down onto the chimney.

Jason froze. This wasn’t a raccoon. Or a squirrel. 

Suddenly, the air in the living room grew thick with a strange energy, and the lights flickered once more before going completely out. For a moment, the house was plunged into darkness. Jason’s heart raced as he stood there, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Then, from the other side of the room, there was a noise—a deep, heavy breath, like someone exhaling after a long day of hard work.

Jason’s stomach dropped as he realized: something—or *someone*—was in his house.

He didn’t have time to react before the sound of boots against wood echoed down the stairs. A heavy, jolly laugh filled the space, reverberating in the room.

“Ho, ho, ho!” 

Jason’s mind went blank. He couldn’t believe his ears. Standing in the doorway, just beyond the shadows of the hallway, was a large figure dressed in red. A thick, snowy white beard covered his face, and his eyes twinkled in a way that made Jason feel as though he was staring at something from a dream.

There was no mistaking it. It was Santa Claus.

The old man looked at him with a knowing smile. “Well, well, well, Jason Price. You’re still awake?”

Jason could only stand there, his mouth hanging open. His head spun, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Santa...?” he managed to stammer.

Santa chuckled, adjusting the massive sack over his shoulder. “I see you’re on my naughty list this year, young man. But don’t worry, I’ve got something special for you.”

Before Jason could say another word, Santa reached into his sack and pulled out a plate of warm, freshly baked cookies. The same ones that filled the house with their intoxicating scent. He held them out to Jason, his eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and understanding.

"You’ve been a little too rebellious, haven’t you? Maybe it’s time to find some balance." 

Jason stood there, speechless. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, but one thing was clear: this wasn’t the Christmas he’d been expecting.

With a deep breath, Jason took the plate of cookies. As he did, he realized something—the world outside, the cold, snowy night, and the strange magic filling his house, felt like a new beginning. Maybe being on the naughty list wasn’t the end of it all. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to be learned about Christmas after all.

Jason stood in the middle of the living room, still in disbelief at what was happening. Santa Claus, the jolly old man in red, had just handed him a plate of fresh gingerbread cookies, their spicy scent filling the room and tantalizing his senses. It didn’t seem real—none of it did. But there was Santa, smiling knowingly at him as if he’d been expecting Jason all along.

“Go on,” Santa said with a twinkle in his eye. “Try one. It’s part of the magic, you know.”

Jason hesitated. His stomach, still a little uneasy from all the holiday food he’d already eaten, growled at the prospect of another treat. But despite himself, the cookies looked too delicious to pass up. He picked up one of the small, perfectly shaped gingerbread men, still warm from the oven.

Santa leaned back slightly, his large belly shaking as he chuckled. “Ah, don’t worry, they’re not just cookies. They’ve got a little bit of magic in them. And trust me, they’ll change things for you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, looking down at the cookie. The idea of magic seemed ludicrous—he wasn’t a little kid anymore, after all. But the cookie smelled so good, and for some reason, he couldn’t resist. He took a bite, letting the sweetness wash over his tongue. The spices, the warmth, the soft crumble of the cookie—it was like nothing he’d ever tasted before.

At first, there was just a sense of satisfaction. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he chewed, feeling the holiday warmth spread through him. But then, something strange happened.

A **tingling sensation** spread from his stomach outward, radiating through his limbs like a wave of warmth. Jason froze, feeling a strange tightness around his waist. His jeans, which were already snug after a day of indulgence, suddenly felt even tighter. His stomach rumbled—not from hunger, but from something else, something *different*.

He looked down in disbelief, his hand instinctively reaching for his midsection. 

Jason blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He could feel it—his clothes were tighter, the waistband of his jeans digging into his belly, and his shirt was now stretching across his chest and stomach. He hadn’t imagined it. It was real. He’d just gained weight. Right there, in the span of a few seconds.

Santa, who had been watching him closely, broke into a warm grin.

“Magic cookies,” Santa explained, his voice as jolly as ever. “Each one makes you gain 10 pounds. I can see you’re starting to understand the magic now.”

Jason’s mouth went dry. “Wait... what?” He stepped back, his mind racing. “You mean... this is real? I just gained 10 pounds in like... a minute?”

Santa chuckled heartily, his belly shaking. “Indeed. Those cookies are no ordinary sweets, my boy. They come from the North Pole, crafted in the heart of the workshop, and they’re a part of my gift for those on the naughty list.”

Jason’s mind was spinning. "But why? Is this your way of punishing me?"

Santa waved his hand dismissively, his eyes gleaming. “No, no, it’s not about punishment. It’s about balance. You’ve been living with too much stubbornness, too much defiance. These cookies are a way to teach you a little lesson about... well, about how good things can come from unexpected places.”

Jason stared at him, still not fully comprehending what was happening. His belly was already feeling heavier, the pressure of the extra weight making him uncomfortably aware of his body. He could feel it in his limbs, in his posture—the slight shift in his center of gravity, the tightness of his clothes.

“So... every cookie I eat—what, I get fatter?” Jason asked, incredulous.

Santa gave him a knowing look. “Not just fatter, my boy. You gain weight in a way that mirrors the choices you make. Each bite reflects the way you approach life, and how much you’re willing to let go of your pride, your ego, and embrace something a little more... *sweet*.”

Jason looked at the plate in his hands. The other cookies were so tempting, so warm, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep going down this strange, magical rabbit hole. He’d already felt the effects of the first bite. His jeans were visibly tighter, the waistband straining against the added weight. He could feel his stomach protruding a little more, his face flushed as he glanced at Santa in confusion.

“Don’t worry,” Santa said softly, as if reading Jason’s mind. “You don’t have to eat them all at once. But you should know—you *will* feel the effects. If you keep eating, your body will change. But it’s your choice, Jason. You’re not forced to indulge in the magic if you don’t want to.”

Jason swallowed hard, looking down at the cookie in his hand, then back up at Santa. There was something undeniably *inviting* about it. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. Maybe he could let go of his defiance, even if just for a while. Maybe he could try something new, something he’d never considered before.

“Just one more,” he muttered to himself, almost against his better judgment.

Santa gave him an approving nod. “Ah, good choice. A small step toward a new understanding. Go ahead.”

Jason, a mix of curiosity and temptation swirling in his chest, picked up another cookie. This time, he didn’t hesitate. He bit into it, feeling the warmth and the magic all over again.

Almost immediately, the tingling sensation returned, this time more intense. His stomach seemed to expand as if it were a balloon being inflated. His pants, which were already tight, seemed to fit even more snugly around his hips. His chest felt fuller, as though his body were adjusting to the new weight with an almost *unnatural* rapidity.

He wasn’t sure if it was the magic or his own choices catching up with him, but as the pressure in his belly increased, Jason could only stare at Santa with wide eyes. 

“Okay, that’s... that’s enough,” Jason said, trying to steady himself as his balance shifted. But even as he spoke, the strange sense of satisfaction grew stronger. He felt fuller, heavier, but oddly more *content* than he’d ever felt in his rebellious, defiant existence.

Jason looked down at himself. He didn’t know how much weight he’d gained this time, but the sensation was undeniable. He couldn’t ignore the tightness in his shirt or the weight of his stomach. It was clear that he was becoming a different version of himself with every bite, both physically and, in some strange way, emotionally.

“You’ve learned a lot tonight,” Santa said, his voice kind but firm. “But remember—there’s always room for change. Christmas can be magic, but only if you let it.”

Jason stared at the remaining cookies on the plate, still warm and tempting. His stomach was already uncomfortably full, and he could feel the pressure in his waistband increasing with every passing second. He was getting heavier, and each bite seemed to make the weight more apparent, pushing against his clothes, straining his chest, and making him feel like his body was no longer his own.

He looked up at Santa, who was watching him with that infuriatingly knowing grin, as though he’d anticipated Jason’s every move. 

“I think I’m done,” Jason muttered, trying to push the plate away. The first two cookies had been enough—too much, in fact. He was starting to regret even eating the first one, feeling the weight settle around his stomach and chest. But the strange part was... he didn’t *hate* it. 

His belly groaned beneath his shirt, a reminder of the two cookies already devoured. It was so full now that the idea of eating any more seemed impossible. Yet, there was something about the air in the room that made him hesitate. It was as if there was an invisible pull toward the cookies, a magnetic force he couldn’t quite explain.

“No more cookies for me, Santa,” Jason said firmly, setting the plate on the coffee table, but even as he spoke, his stomach rumbled loudly, almost as if protesting his decision.

Santa chuckled softly, stepping forward with a gleam in his eye. “Oh, Jason. I think you *might* be mistaken.”

Jason's brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Santa placed a finger on his chin thoughtfully. Then, in a flash, he poked Jason’s belly—just a light tap, right on the soft, bloated area just below his ribs.

**Poke!**

Jason gasped. The instant Santa’s finger made contact with his stomach, a strange sensation flooded his body. His belly seemed to *deflate* for a second. It wasn’t just that the pressure lessened—it was like the food had disappeared. The bloating, the fullness, it all seemed to vanish in an instant, leaving him feeling... strangely empty.

And then, the hunger hit. 

A powerful wave of gnawing emptiness swept over him. His stomach growled, louder than before, a deep, almost painful rumble that seemed to echo in the quiet room. Jason’s eyes widened in shock as the hunger intensified, his gut aching with the need for more food. The pangs were so loud, so insistent, that they drowned out everything else around him.

Jason's hand went instinctively to his stomach, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if he could somehow keep the sensation at bay. But the hunger didn’t stop. It was as if his body was screaming for food, his insides hollow, desperate for more.

“What the hell—?” Jason breathed, his voice shaking.

Santa just watched him, still grinning, his arms crossed over his chest. “I warned you, Jason. Every bite of these magic cookies does more than just fill your stomach. It changes how you feel. It alters your desires. And now... you can’t stop. You *need* another bite.”

Jason’s hands trembled as he looked at the plate, the third cookie sitting there innocently, just waiting for him to take it. His mind screamed at him not to do it. He didn’t want to eat another cookie. Not now, not after what had already happened.

But the hunger... the gnawing, relentless hunger in his gut... It wouldn’t stop. His body wanted it. Desperately.

“No...” Jason muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t need another cookie. I *don’t*.”

But the moment he said it, the hunger seemed to intensify. His stomach growled so loudly it nearly rattled his ribcage. The pressure returned in full force, and before he knew it, Jason was hunched over, clutching his stomach as if he could somehow stop it.

Santa watched him for a moment longer, his eyes full of knowing mischief. “I think it’s time for the third one, Jason. The hunger can’t be ignored, no matter how much you try.”

Jason’s resistance was faltering. He didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to give in to this strange magic. But his body was betraying him. He was too hungry, too empty, and the cookies were too close.

In a moment of weakness, Jason reached for the third cookie. It felt like an almost automatic response, his hand moving before his mind could even catch up. He didn’t want to, but his body needed it. Desperately.

Santa’s grin widened as Jason took the cookie and, without a second thought, bit into it.

As soon as the warm cookie hit his tongue, Jason could feel it—more than just the sweet flavor. His body reacted instantly. The warmth spread through him like a shock, and that empty sensation he’d felt only moments ago vanished, replaced with an overwhelming fullness. But this time, the fullness was different. It felt deeper. He could feel his stomach stretching, his pants tightening around his waist, and yet... it wasn’t painful. It was almost *comfortable*, in a strange, indulgent way.

Jason’s shirt grew tighter as he chewed, his chest expanding slightly with every bite. He could feel the extra weight settling on his body, his stomach swelling visibly beneath his shirt. With each bite, it was like he was ballooning outward, the weight accumulating rapidly.

He didn’t even notice how much he’d eaten, how much his body had changed until he looked down. His stomach, already soft and heavy, was now noticeably larger, pushing against the waistband of his jeans. His shirt strained to cover the growing mound of flesh beneath it, and the tightness in his pants was unmistakable.

Santa observed the transformation, his eyes gleaming with approval. “There it is, Jason. Just let go. Embrace it.”

Jason’s hands gripped his belly as if to hold the weight in place, but it was no use. He had given in. The hunger had won. 

But something else was happening now. Jason felt a strange, euphoric warmth spreading through his body. It wasn’t just the cookies that were filling him; it was the feeling of *acceptance*. He could almost hear the soft hum of magic surrounding him, as though the cookies had done more than just make him fat. They had somehow made him *feel* full—complete.

Jason swallowed, feeling the heaviness in his stomach, and for the first time, he felt something that wasn’t just hunger or defiance. He felt... *satisfied*. 

Jason had barely finished the third magic cookie when he felt an overwhelming shift in his body. At first, it was subtle—just a slight tightness in his stomach, like it had been stretched to its limits. But it didn’t stop there. 

The first thing Jason noticed was the pressure around his midsection. His jeans, which had already been snug before, felt almost painfully tight now, digging into his waist. His stomach, once slightly bloated from the previous cookies, had ballooned out significantly, pushing against the fabric of his shirt, the soft fabric straining to contain his expanding form. 

His chest had broadened too, his ribcage seeming to expand with every breath. As he looked down, his belly had swollen outward, a soft but firm mound of flesh that jutted noticeably past his waistline. The buttons of his shirt were pulling at the seams, and the waistband of his jeans was digging into his lower belly, the skin a little pink from the pressure. He could almost feel the weight accumulating beneath his hands as they hovered over the growing mass.

Each intake of breath made him acutely aware of how much he had consumed, and the feeling of fullness washed over him in waves. His belly had become an undeniable presence now, a heavy, rounded expanse that clung tightly to his body. It was as if every inch of his skin was occupied by this new weight, the feeling of it seeping into his legs, his arms, his chest. He wasn’t sure how much he had gained in total, but it was clear that his body had changed significantly with each magical bite.

But as he sat there, dazed from the strange magic, he realized that the hunger still hadn’t fully left him. His stomach rumbled again—louder, deeper than before. It was like a growl that reverberated through his entire body, leaving him feeling *empty* despite the vast amount of food he’d just consumed.

And then, before he could even process what was happening, Santa raised his hand with a knowing smile. The plate of cookies seemed to levitate, the two remaining gingerbread men sliding across the table toward Jason. 

Jason blinked. “Wait, what?” he said, still reeling from the effects of the last three cookies. But it was too late—the cookies were already in his hands, as if they’d been beckoned by some invisible force.

Santa's voice was calm, his tone warm. “You didn’t think it would stop at three, did you, Jason? The magic works in ways you can't predict, but now that you're here, it's almost a part of you. Go ahead... just one more bite.”

Jason’s hands trembled as he held the cookie in front of him. The pressure in his stomach was intense, a reminder of the weight he was already carrying. The thought of eating another one should have made him want to stop, but that gnawing emptiness still lingered in his gut, an insatiable, magnetic pull. His eyes traced the cookie’s edges, the sugary glaze gleaming in the soft glow of the Christmas lights. It was impossible to ignore.

Without fully realizing what he was doing, Jason took the first bite of the fourth cookie. His body immediately reacted, that same sensation flooding through him—the warmth, the magic, the sense of immediate satisfaction, and yet, at the same time, a deepening hunger. 

His stomach seemed to lurch, pushing outward with the added weight. The softness of his belly was now undeniable, the expanse of flesh that had once been confined beneath his shirt now visible as it pressed outward, expanding beneath his hands. 

Santa watched him, still smiling. "The magic doesn’t just fill you—it *changes* you, Jason. Every bite is a step toward something new. Something different.”

Jason couldn’t speak as the second cookie was placed into his hands. This time, he didn’t hesitate. He bit into it almost greedily, as if his body needed it. The flavor hit him all at once—spicy, sweet, with a warmth that spread from his mouth to his belly. 

And as soon as the cookie entered his system, he felt the unmistakable weight of it. 

His belly, already massive from the previous cookies, grew further—his stomach expanding with a slow but undeniable pressure. The tightness around his waist was almost unbearable, the waistband of his jeans digging in, as if threatening to burst. His shirt stretched across his chest, pulling tight over the soft, swollen mound of his stomach. The feeling of fullness had become almost overwhelming, as though his body had reached its absolute limit.

And yet, it wasn’t over.

Jason felt a deep, parched thirst suddenly wash over him. His throat felt dry, his mouth cottony. The hunger had finally receded, replaced by an almost desperate need for something to drink. 

Without thinking, Jason reached for the glass of whole milk Santa had left on the table. The cool, white liquid seemed like the only thing that could quench the fire in his throat. 

He brought the glass to his lips and began drinking, each gulp feeling like it was soothing something inside him. The cold milk seemed to settle in his stomach, cooling the heat from the cookies, and for a brief moment, he felt a little relief. But as he drank, his stomach continued to react to the magic in his body.

The pressure inside him was no longer just physical. His body was growing heavier with each swallow, his stomach expanding and stretching with the milk, the cookies, and the magic working its way through him. The fullness in his body wasn’t just in his belly anymore—it was in his arms, his legs, his chest. Jason could feel the weight of it spreading through him, sinking into his bones, his skin. He was *growing* with every bite, every gulp.

The milk, thick and rich, slid down his throat easily, but with every swallow, he could feel the weight of the magic pushing him further, making him feel more bloated, more *filled*. His body felt like it was expanding not just with food, but with *everything*. The magic was seeping into every part of him.

Finally, after Jason finished the milk, he let the glass slip from his hand. His stomach was so full now that it felt like it might burst. He leaned back into the couch, the weight of his belly pressing against his legs. He was *huge*—his shirt now clung to his swollen stomach, unable to cover the full expanse. His pants, once comfortably snug, now felt like they were cutting into his flesh. The waistband dug painfully into his soft belly, the fabric stretching in ways it wasn’t meant to. He couldn’t even move without feeling the tightness, the heaviness in every part of him.

Santa watched all of this unfold, a satisfied look on his face. “You’re learning, Jason. The magic isn’t about controlling you; it’s about showing you how to embrace what’s already inside of you.”

Jason could barely focus on Santa’s words, his mind fogged by the overwhelming sensation of his body. His stomach was so distended, so *full*, that all he could do was sit there, helpless against the pull of the magic. The once rebellious, defiant Jason had surrendered to it, his body irrevocably changed, his appetite insatiable.

Jason let out a loud, unintentional burp as he leaned back into the couch, the pressure in his overstuffed stomach making the sound escape from him. It was so loud, so sudden, that it echoed in the quiet room, a perfect, embarrassing punctuation to the magical meal he had just consumed.

"Excuse me," he muttered sheepishly, though a part of him was too full and too dazed to really care about the manners he normally would’ve worried about. His stomach was so large now that the idea of sitting up or moving was almost laughable. Every inch of his body felt stretched, as though he was on the verge of bursting from the sheer volume of food he had taken in.

Santa chuckled at the sound, an amused glint in his eyes as he looked at Jason’s swollen form. The old man’s gaze shifted down to Jason’s belly, now a soft, round mound pressing against his shirt. It was clear that Jason had eaten well—too well—and now, he was feeling the full force of that magic.

Jason sighed deeply, rubbing his hands over his belly as it grumbled, still not fully content despite the massive intake. It wasn’t just a growl anymore, it was an ache—one that he couldn’t ignore, no matter how much he tried to distract himself.

"I’m... I’m going to go back upstairs to bed," Jason muttered, his voice thick from the fullness in his stomach. He could feel the weight of the cookies pressing down on him, and though he had no desire to move, he knew he had to. His body felt like it had been stretched to its limits, and sleep seemed like the only reprieve from the intense pressure he felt within.

Santa grinned, watching Jason shift uncomfortably on the couch. "You’re going to need a little more than just bed to recover from all this magic, Jason."

Before Jason could protest, Santa’s gloved hand reached out and poked Jason’s bloated stomach lightly. The action was playful, but the effect was instant. Jason gasped, his belly jumping at the poke, a shudder of sensation running through him. The pressure that had been building seemed to momentarily *shift* as his belly responded, like a balloon inflating and deflating under his shirt.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Jason said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll try to be better next year. But… can I just go to bed now? I feel like I’m going to explode.” 

Santa stood up, his merry eyes twinkling as he patted Jason gently on the belly, a soft tap that felt like the final nudge to keep him in place. “You’ve done enough, Jason. Just remember—next year, you’d better be on the nice list if you want to avoid more *magic cookies*. The world can only handle so much Christmas spirit, you know.”

Jason gave a tired but sincere nod, rubbing his now-aching belly. “Yeah, yeah… I’ll be good, I promise.”

With that, he pushed himself slowly to his feet, feeling the weight of his stomach shift as he stood, and made his way toward the stairs. Every step was a little slower than usual, his body heavy, swollen, and full. But it was Christmas, after all. He had indulged in the magic, and now, all he wanted was to sleep it off.

Before he disappeared up the stairs, he turned to glance back at Santa, who was still standing by the tree, watching him with that playful smile.

“Merry Christmas, Jason,” Santa said, his voice full of warmth.

Jason nodded, a smile tugging at his lips despite the discomfort. “Merry Christmas, Santa. And… thanks for the cookies.”

Santa’s eyes twinkled, his voice low and full of mirth. “Don’t mention it, kid. Just remember, no more naughty behavior next year.”

Jason was already regretting every bite as he made his way up the stairs. It wasn’t just the slow, lumbering pace of his steps, but the deep, weighted feeling of his body. Every movement felt heavier, every step more sluggish than the last. He had never felt so *slow* before. His legs seemed to protest with each step, the weight of the magic cookies settling into his body like a dense, unshakable fog.

Fifty extra pounds felt like a mountain on his frame—his stomach, still swollen from the five cookies and glass of milk, jutted out in front of him like a balloon. It was soft, round, and *massive*, and with every step he took, it seemed to pull down on him, making his movements even more labored. His shirt stretched uncomfortably across his chest, and his waistband was cutting into his belly, the fabric straining against the sheer size of him.

By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Jason was panting, exhausted from the simple effort of going up. He stopped in front of the bathroom mirror, his reflection hitting him like a slap. 

The sight of himself was almost foreign—his once lean frame had been completely transformed. His belly now looked like it was carrying a small beach ball in it. His shirt clung tightly to his swollen gut, the fabric stretched to its limits. Jason’s chest had widened as well, and his arms, once muscular but lean, now seemed thick and heavy, filled with the extra weight that had accumulated over the course of the night. His pants, which used to fit comfortably, were now pinching at the waist, the fabric pulling tight against his thickened thighs and hips.

Jason stared at himself for a moment, taking it all in. His face looked rounder too, a soft flush of color on his cheeks, as if the weight had even settled there. His lips parted, a silent exhale escaping as he looked down at his bloated belly once more, still feeling the pressure build, almost as if he had more room to grow. The fullness inside him was so intense that he could hear his own stomach growling softly, even though he knew he couldn’t possibly eat another thing.

“God, this is insane,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. The discomfort was real, but so was the strange sensation of satisfaction—like he’d just indulged in something he couldn't control. Magic had a way of making everything *feel* so much more intense. And now, he had no choice but to live with the results.

With a sigh, Jason turned away from the mirror, giving his stomach a gentle rub as if comforting the weight inside him. He felt his body shift, a slight jiggle in his belly as he moved toward his bedroom. It was impossible to ignore the strain on his clothes, or the constant pressure on his stomach, but there was nothing he could do about it now. 

He collapsed onto his bed, the soft mattress groaning under his new weight. The cool sheets felt nice against his warm skin, but his stomach was too tight, too swollen to allow him to get comfortable. He shifted a bit, but his belly was so large now that it wouldn’t let him relax fully.

Just as he was about to close his eyes and try to forget about the strange night he’d had, a familiar scent wafted through the room. It was faint at first, but unmistakable—the sweet, warm smell of freshly baked cookies. Jason’s eyes popped open, his heart skipping a beat.

“No way…” he murmured, lifting his head from the pillow to sniff the air more intently. The scent was drifting in from somewhere. The familiar, inviting aroma of gingerbread, sugar, and spice. It wasn’t just in his mind, he could *smell* it.

Jason groaned, his stomach grumbling again, this time from something more than just fullness. It was that same deep, empty hunger he had felt earlier—magically induced, of course—but it was so overwhelming that he almost couldn’t fight it. His body *wanted* more. 

His eyes darted toward the door, half-expecting Santa to appear, carrying another plate of magic cookies. He could already picture them—those warm, sugary treats, the kind that filled him with a sense of indulgence and the promise of more weight, more fullness. 

The thought alone was enough to make him sit up, but the pressure in his belly made him stop. He didn’t know if he could take more, but the smell—*oh, the smell*—was so tempting, so irresistible. 

He groaned and turned over onto his side, clutching at his belly, trying to settle himself down. *Not again,* he told himself. *I’ve had enough for one night.*

But the scent was still there. Faint, but lingering. And Jason realized, with a sinking feeling, that no matter how much he tried to ignore it, that magic had already sunk deep into his bones. It wasn’t just in his body—it was in his mind too.

With a frustrated sigh, Jason closed his eyes again, trying to push away the hunger, the pull of that magic. 

But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that the next time he smelled those cookies, he might not be able to resist. The thought made him shudder, even as he drifted off to sleep, his body still heavy and full, his stomach aching from the weight of what he had already consumed. 

Part 2 will be posted on December 25th

[theguarddogofallyourfeverdreams]

tadashi headcanons

tadashi is here

generally

goody two shoes

never touches alcohol; will get asian flush after the first two shots

has never grown out his hair past the middle of his ears

boxer briefs kinda guy

owns a collection of scarves and gloves because he likes being warm and cozy

plays guitar or some instrument (he has to hes asian asians know)

not only surfs (a surfboard can be seen in his part of the room in some scenes) but also plays tennis and runs

has been approached for modeling gigs because he's well built and tall but he's turned them down, simply not interested in them

not very active on social media but whenever he remembers he has an account he just posts whatever he found interesting for the day like it could be mochi, a bowl of ramen, or littered packaging on the side of the street and then he would disappear off the face of the platform

sent to karate lessons as a kid so knows a bit of self defense which came clutch in situations spawned by hiro's teenage recklessness

he's the type to hide his injuries from his loved ones but get worried over the smallest cuts for them

sleeps like a fucking rock he needs several alarms and even aunt cass telling hiro to cause a ruckus to wake him tf up

learned how to cook from aunt cass because sometimes she is busy and away and hiro gets hungry

learned japanese conversationally from while his parents were still around, routinely tries to upkeep and improve his language ability through japanese books, movies and media

tries to teach hiro and get him to do the same but with hiro's young age and boredom from school he really doesn't think about anything other than his own interests robotics projects and botfighting

listens to pop and calm instrumental music like bossa nova

lowkey a swiftie

heavily dependent on caffeine; like near finals and midterms he can't function without coffee

until at some point he tried out matcha and was completely blown at how the matcha latte didn't give him jitters and caffeine spikes

so a matcha guy but will drink coffee if it's the only thing around

he's not lactose intolerant but hiro is and he makes fun of him for it

has really bad allergies though

keeps an extra futon in the storage of his lab because there have been way too many nights where he just passed out on the floor of his lab too exhausted to go home

i could see him in a VW beetle

or just any car that would run

appreciates any weather for what little delights they hold but interestingly i'd say he's a cloudy, chilly, crisp cold air that makes your breath look like steam, on-the-verge-of-raining day guy because he gets to bust out his cardigan and blazers and make himself a warm little drink

smells like fresh laundry, coffee and delightful little pastries -- like stepping into a warm bakery on a chilly day-- because the brothers have to help Cass open

on days he's busy with baymax and other robotics projects he comes out of his lab smelling more like metal, lubricant, oil, soldering-- all that stuff that comes with mechanical tinkering and is conscious of it; if he has a class after he will go home and shower and make himself a matcha latte and he smells like a bakery all over again

crazy well-regarded not just in his own department but in school overall

like not only was he able to make a portable huggable robot capable of 10,000 medical procedures with a built in defibrillator which is actually insane legend crazy work on its own

but he's insanely nice and kind to anyone he passes by on campus and offers help whenever he can

^ many girls and even some guys are head over heels for him they can't fathom that he's a real person and not some prince that came out of a fairytale

he's lowkey a loser when it comes to his brother (and other aspects covered later) though

since hiro and aunt cass are all he has left of his family he's insanely protective of them, especially hiro who is in his teenage rebellious years

like in an argument with hiro when hiro says something mean to him in the heat of the moment like "Why are you like this?! It's none of your business!!" or whatever he gets sad and even beats himself over it lowkey like "Am I a bad brother after all...?"

there have been multiple instances in which he didn't hang with the gang because he wouldn't trust hiro to run off and get into a botfight in some shady ass crevice of the city SCENE: hiro is grounded by tadashi yet again and tadashi insists to escort hiro to and from school Hiro: Why do I have to be dropped off by you? And you're picking me up too?! And why do I have to wear this stupid T-Shirt?!!! [t-shirt says "i got in trouble for not listening to my brother and nearly getting us arrested]

like look me in my tumblr icon and tell me that's never happened bruh

lowkey needs glasses but has contacts, will wear them if in a rush

hes a cool robotic genius prince in shining armor whos also lowkey really lame and dorky 😭😭😭 

romantically

since he's a goody-two-shoes so he's low-key romantically inexperienced and easily flustered

^ he's probably a virgin ngl

like he gets bitches "oh tadashi? from the robotics department? yeah he's really nice; he helped me carry some stuff this one time. and suuuper cute. would." / "yeah I would date tadashi if I weren't, you know, a heterosexual guy" ...but he doesn't act on any of the action he gets

part of the reason being that hiro hamada exists and that alone is a responsibility in itself

like he had to sew GPS tracking systems into hiro's clothes if he went on a date his date would get interrupted by hiro's jacket pinging from some sketchy ass dead end alleyway like 4 miles away

and even if he brought someone home he wouldn't be able to do anything peacefully since he shares a room with hiro, the only thing separating the brothers being a thin, timeworn shoji partitioning

would blush if brought into a victoria's secret-- he wouldn't know where to put his eyes so he would be flustered and his eyes darting all over the place

^ if one were to ask if he was okay from all the victoria's secrets being revealed in front of him he would stutter like a stereotypical flustered teenage boy

love isnt limited by gender kinda guy

he's just a chill guy who has so much love to spread all around you know

bigger spoon, loves cuddling

love languages acts of service and quality time

vvvvvvv sweet and considerate

sooo gentlemanly

is a clingy sticky affectionate sappy drunk to his s/o

free pastries and coffee for breakfast from the lucky cat cafe

would cook for his s/o maybe even breakfast in bed

would help wash and blow dry s/o hair

very polite (very demure very mindful LOL) often asks before a lot of things "can I hold your hand?" "can I help you with that?" "can I hug you?"

gives his s/o rides home on days they have to go home at night because lets face it even san fransokyo in 20thirtysomething has sketchy dangerous bums

he is very athletic and has crazy endurance from playing sports all throughout school and having to run, chase after, and rescue hiro out of botfighting "misunderstandings"...

^ crazy endurance... iykwim...

soft top, would be open to reasonable experimentation

rarely gets jealous but if he does, bottles it up

until he cant anymore and he does some slightly possessive stuff like putting his jacket over his s/o and he will feel a little romantical when he is alone with them iykwim

is sooo cute just trust

some darker stuff maybe(?) tw/ trauma, death, unresolved issues or whatever idk

as hard as he is on hiro and his loved ones he's hardest on himself

he was old enough to remember and feel his parents death so it was harder on him than it was for hiro

part of the reason why he wants so desperately to help everyone is because he wishes he could have done something to save his parents

it's not explicitly stated but i get the feeling their parents died instantly from a terrible accident that unfortunately first responders weren't able to save (which was probably the inspiration for Baymax, who is portable and capable of 10,000 medical procedures which is crazy work btw)

he lowkey has survivors guilt from it

any nightmares he has of his parents and the accident and he wakes up panicking and teary-eyed he goes to the bathroom to compose himself to not let it affect hiro

lowkey he might have a small issue of basing some of his self-worth off how helpful he is

nevertheless he's a well-adjusted and healthy young man who has gone to therapy and overcome his trauma but experiences from his past influence and manifest in his work of trying to help others through robotics

which manifested in many sleepless days and nights and innumerable pots of coffee during baymax's development stages

hates health insurance companies (don't ask how he feels about luigi's mansion)

hes so so gorg i love love love like since forever

[devoutekuna]

When he's sick/injured

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

A/N- Geto has twin daughters in this

Sukuna-

Sukuna wasn't going to let a measly cold stop him, he was a king after all. Yet he still stays confined to his room not to get his daughter or wife sick. His daughter was rebellious refusing to take orders from anyone, even her father, that's why she went into his bedroom despite being told not to, carrying a big bowl full of her father's favourite soup with some meat inside it. "Hi dad!" Placing the bowl next to him as he sat outside on the porch getting some fresh air. "Hi baby" ruffling her hair as she sat down, maybe he was feeling nice since he was sick?

"I brought you some food" pushing it towards him. "Uraume said that it helps" kicking her little legs as she saw how he ate it, she had made it herself so it would be a blessing if he actually enjoyed it. "I made it myself, with the help from Uraume. She cooked the meat and I made the soup" pointing to it.

"You got more?" Handing her the empty bowl. "Oh, Oh yes!" She was even surprised he liked it, getting up as she ran towards the kitchen. Smiling to himself as he saw how his daughter acted.

Nanami-

During a mission he broke his wrist, fortunately it was already healing due to shoko, yet he had to come home with the white cast visible due to his shirt. "What happened to your arm daddy?" Pointing to the cast. "I fell" lying as he didn't want her to know the truth of how he got it. "Oh."

Pulling out the chair for whenever he came down to eat. "I will get you food!" Smiling up at him as he sat down "Thank you sweetheart" patting her head. Bringing back a bowl full of cereal, it was overflowing a bit due to the milk but it was fine. This was now a regular occurrence during the time he broke his wrist, having his daughter take over his responsibilities despite not asking to.

About to get up to go change the clothes from the washing machine into the dryer but his daughter beat him to it, running towards the dryer as she opened the door, "I will put it in the dryer!". "You don't have to." He knew she'd get upset if he didn't allow her to, but he really wanted her to go spend her time with her friends or atleast something else.

Geto-

Suguru was sick, well it was actually the common cold since it was winter, not a big deal, but his daughter's made it the biggest deal ever. Forcing you to take them to the costume store to buy nurses outfits, making sure that they had all the right equipment before checking on their father. "Daddy, we've come to do a checkup on you!" Her little smiles as she waddled in, pushing a toy trolley full of toy medical supplies. A glass of water, a stethoscope, plasters, temperature monitor, you get the jist. "Yes yes" nodding in response as they tried to close the door behind him. Picking up his daughter as he out them on the bed along with the trolley. "First, we need the temperature thingy" grabbing it from the bag as she stuck it in his mouth, making him almost gag because it was full force. "Mummy is making you soup so you need to rest." Her twin sister was waiting for the soup to be ready so that she could bring it to him.

"Here you go baby" handing her a bowl of soup, watching over as she worked slowly not to spill it.

Putting the bowl on the nightstand. "Now the stethoscope!" Putting it in her ears as she placed it all around his upper body. "It goes here sweetheart" moving her hand so that the plastic touched his bare chest instead of his head. "36! You have a fever daddy" trying to diagnose him, yet she was wrong. Atleast she tried her best.

Gojo-

He was a bit overdramatic when it came to you spending more time with him, one example of this is the fact that he sometimes refuses to use his reverse cursed technique so that you can patch him up.

"Ow!" See normally you'd be the one to wrap him up with bandages but since you were already asleep, his son decided to help out. Using his arm as a handle so that he didn't fall off the sofa as he tightened the bandage. "Your pulling too hard" trying to loosen the material. "It's like a tourniquet!" He was taught to make sure the wrapping was tight or else it wouldn't work. "It's a small scrape" defending himself. "It could get infected! So you need to be safe" he clearly learnt that off you since Satoru was so careless.

Toji-

His daughter has a dream of becoming a nurse, it was always short lived though since she kept changing professions, last week she wanted to be a princess and the month before she wanted to be a president. "Okay dad, I will be your doctor for today!" Sat on the sofa as he watched her try and climb up, he'd never allow someone else to do this to him other than his daughter. The scar on his shoulder was practically healed by now, yet she still wanted to check it out. "Okay, does this hurt?" Pressing down on mark. "No" fingers digging further into his skin. "Now?" Looking back up at him as she sat on his arm.

"Nope" he was already tired of this as she was just messing around but he'd entertain his daughter if it meant seeing her happy. "How about now?" Shaking his head as she pouted. "I can give you paracetamol for now" climbing off the man as she buttoned up her doctor's jacket. "But I said it didn't hurt" writing down some words on a piece of paper. "Well I am the doctor here" smirking at the man.

[megumiluvv]

I Went on a Date With My Brother’s Babysitter

Finally!! The date you’ve all been waiting for (I hope)!! Please ignore any grammar errors, I spent forever on it and I’ll try to fix it as I read over it. (I reread my stuff a lot to make sure I like it still).

There will be more of this au!! Don't worry about this ending just because they went on a date! I still have plenty of fluff prompts and ideas from you guys if you send them in!!

Masterlist

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ❀ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

Choso is a nervous wreck. He can’t even fathom how he managed this, getting you and just you for the day. No uncle, no Yuji, not even Gojo. He dresses casual and waits outside your door, knowing you’re just as nervous as he is.

You change outfits plenty times before just settling on something casual but still nice since you’ll be going to the aquarium and probably somewhere cozy to eat.

Choso waits outside your door and his brain short circuits from how you look. It may be something you’ve worn many times in front of him before, but you’re always stunning in his eyes.

“Sorry if it looks bad, I changed like, twenty times…” You blush and push your hair to behind your ear.

“No, no, you look… you look perfect…” Choso trails off, feeling a little embarrassed by his own casual clothing.

“Thanks… You do too… Goshhh, why is this so awkwardddd?” You blush and rub your warm cheeks.

“Maybe because we said it’s a date…?”

“Right, right…” You sigh and shut your apartment door, locking it carefully behind you.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

The two of you walk out of the complex and head to the aquarium since you (somehow) live nearby, and the weather is nice. As you’re crossing the street, you subconsciously hold his hand, used to doing so during your outings with Yuji. Choso doesn’t say anything about it, instead enjoying the feel of your hand in his.

You show up to the aquarium and Choso pays for the two of you. You enter and instantly drag him to the jellyfish.

“I love these! Oh! And sharks!” You smile excitedly and look around the room of jellyfish.

Choso smiles at your wonder and excitement, showing you the touch tank that you gasp at and carefully touch the tops of the jellyfish.

“They feel funny. I bet Yuji would love it here.”

“He’s more of a zoo kid instead of aquarium.” Choso smiles and watches you fondly. “But he would probably like the tiger sharks.”

“Because they have tiger in the name?”

“Partially.” Choso laughs with you.

“What’s your favorite sea creature?” You ask Choso.

“That’s a tough choice, between sea otters, angelfish, and whale sharks. I also like jellyfish too.”

“Oh gosh, those are all such cute choices!” You smile. “And some angelfish have those stripes like the one across your nose.”

Your voice has a teasing lilt as you trace the tattoo across his nose. His cheeks flush a bit and you giggle.

“Y’know, I never asked where you got the tattoo.”

“It was a rebellious thing against my parents.”

“Really? You had a rebellious phase?”

“It was a long time ago, it’s embarrassing…”

“Come onnn, you gotta tell me someday!” You smile. “How old were you when you got it?”

“It was a before Yuji was born, I think I was 17? Paid in cash and everything.”

“Really? It still looks so fresh.”

“Whatever. I was arguing with my parents and staying with my uncle, he said he knew a guy and took me. He loved the look on my parents’ faces when I came home.”

You smile at the thought of Sukuna instigating something like that, knowing it totally fits the man.

“Your uncle does have a lot of tattoos, makes sense he’d know a guy.”

“Yeah, I kind of regret it, though. Hard to get a job with visible tattoos sometimes. But I think I have enough jobs as is.”

“That’s true. You really work hard for Yuji.” You look up at him with admiration.

He hums in agreement and looks over at an exhibit that has otters. Choso takes your hand and pulls you along.

The otter goes around its little tank, a soft thud each time it pushes off the glass to move to the slide. Choso watches with a small smile on his face and your eyes notice the way his crinkle like when he’s watching Yuji do something. Cute… You think to yourself.

He finally speaks up after a few minutes. “Let’s go pet the stingrays.”

You perk up and follow him, smiling softly as you get to the touch tank. Choso rolls up his sleeves, his forearms having muscle from the various jobs he’s had. You stare for a second too long and he notices, smiling a little and guiding your hand into the water.

The water is nice, and you feel the strange sensation of the yellow stingray’s back on your two fingers, carefully avoiding the stinger and not pressing onto the creature at all. There are some smaller creatures that can also be touched, zebra shark being your favorite in the pool.

Choso watches your face as you watch the fish just swim across people’s hands. Your eyes trail after each animal for a few seconds before moving to the next, a small smile quirking into your lips. He smiles to himself, he could look at you for hours.

The two of you dry off your arms and use the free hand sanitizer. Choso then leads you to the shark tank and you watch the animals, taking pictures and videos (respecting the rules set for photography), and speaking quietly like the sign says in the tank.

“I love love love these sharks.” You whisper.

Choso grins and watches you look around the tank, the way your eyebrows furrow for just a second when kids walk in and talk loudly. But when you realize it’s just a kid, you no longer frown and just smile at the kids’ marvels at the sharks.

Choso watches everyone filter through as you quietly talk about what you need to do this week and other plans.

“I’m practically free tomorrow, that’ll be my housekeeping day, I guess, vacuum, might rearrange… Gojo works Thursday, so I have to watch Megumi. If Yuji wants to come over and have a playdate, I can do that.”

“Mhm, I don’t work tomorrow or Thursday, so I could help. Yuji comes home Thursday morning.”

“Awesome.” You smile.

You go through the rest of the aquarium, stopping by the sharks again before looking through the gift shop.

“Ooh! Yuji would love this!” You smile and show Choso a tiger shark plushie. “And we can get him a book on sea creatures since he can read now.”

Choso smiles and grabs a few things you’d like and buys them before you can see, keeping them a surprise for holidays or your birthday.

It’s now time for dinner. Choso leads you to a cozy restaurant, and you browse the menu for anything that looks good.

“Don’t worry, I have the perfect order for you.” Choso grins.

“Oh? And what is this perfect order?”

Choso points out the most delicious looking thing on the menu and you salivate a little.

“That looks literally perfect.”

“I knew you’d like it. Tastes better than it looks too.”

“Really?”

He nods and you guys go about dinner, talking a little more romantically now that you’re out of casual topics.

“Have you had a date before?” You poke at your food which, indeed, tasted better than it looked.

“Went on a couple in high school, nothing serious. Super casual hookups too, but rare since I was more focused on my brothers.”Choso shrugs. “You?”

“Same.”

He hums and eats a few more bites before you speak up again.

“Is this a casual thing?”

Choso looks up at you, noting the uncertainty in your eyes and voice. He feels his chest tighten a little and sets his fork down.

“…honestly? No. Ever since I met you, I’ve kind of known that I felt more than casual things for you. You’re so kind to Yuji and anyone you meet, you’re funny, not to mention drop dead gorgeous-” He starts to ramble before you cut him off and blush.

“Okay, I get it, charmer…”

“…Sorry, I got carried away. It’s just- I’ve felt this way for so long, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt like this for anyone.”

It’s now Choso’s turn to look at you with uncertainty. He just poured his heart out and you’re just silently staring as he speaks.

“…So you really like me?”

“…Yeah.”

“…I have too. For a while, I think.”

The air now feels a bit lighter for Choso. “That’s… that’s great, I’m glad…”

You smile a little, relieved your feelings were returned. They have been this whole time.

“Honestly, everyone around us keeps thinking we’re dating, it kind of felt like we were.” Choso laughs.

“I know, right?” You laugh too. “Gojo keeps asking if you’ve asked me out yet, then turns it to a little ‘oh maybe I’ll do it first’ thing. I can’t ever tell if he’s trying to make you jealous or if he really means it.”

“Yeah, he gets on my nerves though.”

Choso pays for the dinner and tips the nice waitress you two had, and you hold his hand again as you walk back home in the dark.

“Nice night. Quiet.” Choso muses.

“Mhm.”

“Tonight was nice.”

“Yeah, it was.” You look like you want to say more.

Choso notices that. “What is it?”

“…What… are we?”

Oh. He realized that you both didn’t really put a label on it. Sure, you had admitted your feelings, but you never really acted on it.

“What… do you want us to be…?”

“…” You lean closer to him and he blushes at the sudden proximity.

“…Do you… wanna date? Like actually label it?” He asks, suddenly unsure.

“…Yeah.” You whisper.

Choso lets out a soft breath. “Me too…”

The two of you stare at each other, really close to each other’s faces.

“…I’d kiss you but I don’t think I’d be able to stop.” He whispers.

“…You said Yuji’s not back til Thursday…”

He grins a little at the innuendo and guides you inside his apartment.

“Then let’s savor it, yeah?”

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ❀ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

Taglist (ask to join anytime): @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

@mediokerrv @flooftoof @dazaisfavgf

[bookloover35]

Ink and Fire - Eddie Munson x fem reader.

Eddie Munson was a man of many layers, much like the tattoos he so desperately wanted to cover his skin with. He wasn't the typical guy who walked into a tattoo shop, but then again, Eddie wasn't exactly the "typical guy" in most situations. Long, messy hair, a bandana always tied around his head, and a sleeveless leather vest that made him look like he was on the verge of becoming a rockstar—Eddie Munson didn't quite blend in with the crowd.

And then there was you.

You were a new addition to the tattoo shop, freshly graduated from art school, ready to make your mark on the world, or in this case, make your mark on people's skin. The owner of the shop had taken one look at your portfolio, filled with intricate designs and sharp lines, and knew you'd be a perfect fit. You had the style, the skill, and the attitude.

But you hadn't expected your first client to be someone like Eddie Munson.

He walked into the shop on a Thursday afternoon, all fire and energy, making the entire room seem to buzz with electricity. The door's bell rang as he stepped inside, his boots clicking on the wooden floor, and you looked up from your sketchpad.

"Hey," Eddie greeted with a grin that almost seemed mischievous, his eyes scanning the room before landing on you. "I'm looking for someone who can handle a challenge."

You raised an eyebrow, setting your pen down and giving him a once-over. His eyes held something dangerous—something wild. "You came to the right place. What do you want?"

Eddie chuckled, scratching the back of his head, clearly feeling more than a little self-conscious. "Well, I've got a couple of pieces I want to add, but I'm thinking something... personal, y'know? Something that'll mean something. Maybe a little rebellious."

You smirked, immediately intrigued. The idea of giving Eddie Munson a tattoo that matched his energy was too enticing to pass up.

"Alright, what are we thinking?" you asked, walking over to him as you pulled out a fresh piece of paper. "Something to match that rock 'n' roll vibe you've got going?"

Eddie tilted his head, studying you for a second before answering. "Something that tells a story. Something about freedom, chaos, and, uh... maybe a little bit of fire."

You nodded, understanding immediately. "Gotcha. You've come to the right place."

You quickly began sketching, your hand moving effortlessly across the page, while Eddie watched you with an intense focus, his eyes never leaving your hands as they worked. He wasn't used to being the one on the receiving end of such attention, but something about the way you moved—like you were in your element—made him feel comfortable.

When you finished the rough design, you turned it toward him, your heart pounding a little faster than usual. There was something about this moment, about the strange magnetic pull between you two, that made the room feel warmer.

Eddie took the sketch, his fingers tracing the outline of a flame intertwined with a skull—a symbol of rebellion and freedom. He let out a low whistle. "This... this is perfect."

"Glad you think so," you replied, trying to hide the flush that crept up your neck.

You led him to the tattoo chair, the room humming with anticipation as you prepped your tools. Eddie settled in, his eyes locking with yours. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you now—this wasn't just about ink and skin. This was about creating something that represented a part of him, something that no one else would understand.

As you began the tattoo, Eddie winced slightly, but didn't pull away. You could tell he was the type to take pain in stride, someone who thrived on intensity and chaos, even if it was uncomfortable.

"How're you holding up?" you asked, breaking the silence between you two.

"You're doing a good job," Eddie replied, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze still locked on you. "I trust you."

You smiled softly, feeling a surge of pride. "Good, because I'm just getting started."

The hours passed quickly, both of you lost in the rhythm of the work. As you added detail to the tattoo, Eddie talked about everything—his love for Dungeons and Dragons, his band, Hellfire Club, and his passion for living life on his terms. And with each word, with each laugh that escaped his lips, you felt the connection between you two deepen.

Finally, after what felt like no time at all, you were finishing up the last touches on the tattoo, the fiery design now permanently etched into his skin. Eddie sat up, inspecting your work in the mirror, his lips curling into a satisfied grin.

"Damn," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "I think this is the best tattoo I've ever had."

You leaned back, wiping your hands on a rag, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. "You've got good taste," you replied, your voice light but with a hint of something deeper.

As Eddie stood up, his eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a lingering silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but charged, like there was something both of you were holding back.

"Thanks, seriously," Eddie said, his voice softer than usual as he picked up his jacket. "I knew I could trust you."

"No problem," you said, but your heart fluttered in your chest, the sound of his words lingering in the air.

Eddie grabbed his things, but before he left, he turned to you with that trademark mischievous grin.

"Hey," he said, "I'll be back for more."

You nodded, your pulse quickening, unable to deny the thrill that ran through you. "I'll be here."

And just like that, Eddie Munson was gone—his footsteps echoing down the hallway, but the memory of him, and the connection you shared in that small, ink-stained room, stayed with you.

For now, it was just ink and fire, but you had a feeling that wasn't the last time you'd be seeing Eddie Munson.

[itsangelll]

LOVE LOVE UR WRITING could I please get a fic of 2010 Tom smut of where he’s like a teacher and the reader is in college? Love your writing 🤭

A/n: of course enjoy!! <3 TOOK ME AGES TO WRITE always wanted a teacher Tom smut I can’t lie.

Nothing to say now? ★

2010 era!!

reader is 19!!

warnings:smut swearing reader is rebellious (at the start) angst?

MDNI!!

You were a rebellious kid, parents kicked you out at a young age partying every night staying at your friends houses, with the some money you saved up you started college because you wanted a career at least to get you somewhere. But it wasn’t going so well you couldn’t care about grades, you talked back with teachers always having the last word. Getting into fights you almost had to leave college but you just shrugged it off.

It was a new day and you walked into music class but there was not your usual teacher. He had deep brown dark eyes had black braids over his shoulders and a bandana his lip piercing shimmering in the light, “So who’s this asshole?” You said while walking over to your desk. “This asshole is your new music teacher for the semester call me Mr. Kaulitz or Tom you choose” He said not wasting any time. (I’d call him that any day.)

After a while you started to get pretty bored so you decided to go out get some fresh air maybe light a cigarette? you walked up out of your seat, just to leave the classroom “And where do you think you’re going?” he spoke while writing the last thing on the whiteboard.

You rolled your eyes and turned around meeting his sharp gaze “Um getting some fresh air isn’t it obvious” crossing your arms together leaning against the doorframe, “you didn’t ask to lea-“ he got interrupted “Yeah yeah kiss my ass” you left the room not caring what was gonna happen.

You were probably gonna get another talk with the principal or whatever but did you care? Not at all you were sick of college and wanted to leave as quick as you could but still wanting to achieve something, 10 minutes or so later you came back the class was silent.

You sat back down in your seat eventually Tom came over his tall figure towering over the desk. “So you wanna tell me why you left class without my permission” he spoke calm but firm “Because I wanted fresh air this class is boring anyways.”

Your voice was raised a bit cause you were getting sick of him pushing you, this went on for a few minutes you were starting to get really pissed off, and so was Tom “Fuck sake can you stop getting up all in my business you aren’t my parents!!.” You yelled out not breaking eye contact.

Tom’s facial features was now tense he leaned down and whispered “Look sweetheart I’m getting sick of this are you gonna shut that pretty mouth of yours or do I have to shut it for you?” His voice was rough you were dead silent you didn’t know how to react no one has said that to you ever. He leaned back up looking down at you his eyes were filled with some sort of emotion you couldn’t describe?

-time skip

After a while class was finally over thank god you were packing your stuff up about to leave Tom stopped you. “Sorry you’re gonna have to stay for a while” he spoke his gaze directly on you looking you up and down you groaned and tried leaving pushing past him.

That was no use Tom grabbed you and pushed you against the wall “Are you always this fucking problematic in every class” He spat out You were quiet, you were hitting him trying to get out of his grasp but he already had a tight grip on your waist.

His other hand lifted your chin up to meet his eyes, you felt like you were about to collapse Tom’s gaze was mesmerising he smirked his tongue grazed over his lip piercing, next minute Toms lips crashed with yours his cold metal piercing pressing against your mouth which got you even more weak his lips were soft but very rough at the same time. His hands snaked their way down to your sides having a firm grip you whined giving his tongue access. (I didn’t know what to say. 🙏)

Your tongue was battling his trying to gain dominance Tom won of course no matter how much you wanted to stop you couldn’t it was too good, after a bit he pulled back your plump cherry red lips coated from his salvia. You couldn’t believe what just happened, But was Tom finished of teaching you a lesson? oh no.

“On the desk” He demanded you sat up on the desk he came over towering over you his hand rested on your thigh, while his lips travelled down your neck leaving some marks in their wake but not enough to be seen his hand moved up towards your inner thigh “May I?” Tom whispered his voice was so gentle so soothing (help my soul atp) you nodded his hand moved upwards till he reached your underwear, lightly using his thumb to press over your clothed clit.

Your lips were pursed trying not to make a sound your hips grinded against his hand wanting him to do more “wait Schatz I’ll give you what you want soon” Tom murmured out leaving a kiss on your cheek. Slowly he removed your underwear letting it fall down to your ankles he was in a daze, your pretty pink cunt was glistening “So pretty” his voice tangled with lust.

Tom moved your legs apart giving him more access he kneeled down and dipped his head between your legs without any warning his tongue develd deep into your cunt, “Fuck Tom!” You arched your back squirming a bit his grip on your thighs was that hard they were bound to leave marks tomorrow.

He lapped back and forth between your folds going harder each time, his lips moved up to attack on your sensitive clit. He sucked harshly against your clit causing a loud moan to escape your lips your thighs were about to suffocate him but did he care? no.

Tom’s hand moved up to kneed your breast your nipple getting hard underneath his touch. He wouldn’t stop his attack his tongue felt great against your cunt, “You taste s’good schatz” he mumbled vibrating against your clit. You couldn’t answer moans were escaping your mouth your knot in your stomach was begging for release at this point.

“S-shit Tom I’m close” you whined out your legs starting to shake “cum for me liebe” with those words your orgasm rode out cumming all over his tongue. Tom groaned he lapped at your folds one last time collecting any remaining juices. He stood up and pressed a kiss to your lips you grimaced tasting yourself Tom pulled away, helping you get yourself back together.

You packed your things but then Tom asked “So now are you gonna listen to me during my lesson?” He asked slightly amused his tongue moving across his bottom lip you looked back at him smiling and shrugged “I’ll think about it.” But one thing was true you were now gonna enjoy your music class.

@bunniesthoughts @jadedchar @memzyyy @madzandmore

A/n:this was a lot but I did pretty good :) but I hope you guys enjoyed keep sending me requests cause there amazing I’ll try and post more mwah bye cuties <33

[taldigi]

Angst Time for the Mascot AU!

Nanako was very young when Yu was thrown into the TV. All she knows is that he adored her, but can’t remember the finer Details. Dojima has an incredibly strained relationship with his sister/Yu’s mom due to Yu being kidnapped under his watch. Unlike canon, Dojima isn’t neglectful of Nanako as he is more overprotective. He lost his wife, his nephew, and his sister won’t talk to him. The last thing he needs is to lose Nanako too.

Yosuke recently transferred to Inaba in his first year of middle school, and he was still branded as the “Prince of Junes”, with many of the local businesses hating not only the chain store ruining their economy, but the people running it as well. No one batted an eye when Yosuke disappeared. The Junes nearly shut down due to the manager’s grief over losing his son. Not like anyone cared to see if he was okay.

Chie and Yukiko disappeared around the same time. The entire town came together to search for them, all the way to the next town over. The staff at the Amagi Inn and Chie’s parents spearheaded the search, but they ultimately couldn’t find them. To this day, there is a memorial for the two girls at the entrance of the inn. Both families make sure all the flowers are still fresh and the pictures dusted.

No one bothered to look for Kanji. His only relative was an old woman who couldn’t search much on foot. All she could do was set up missing posters. Everyone guessed that he just was killed by a biker gang or died in a fight. In fact, many people were relieved at his disappearance. “Good riddance!” They would say, with Kanji’s mother being all too cognizant of it.

Rise was a different story. Nearly all of her fanbase rushed to the small town looking for their missing idol. They even harassed several of Inaba’s residents for information, including Rise’s grandmother. But ultimately, like any trend it fizzled out over time and Rise’s place as the top idol was taken. She’s just another reminder for a bad memory for the town.

Naoto wanted to investigate the numerous cold cases, only to disappear as well. Their grandfather was absolutely distraught, doing everything he can to find his grandchild, exhausting every last bit of energy, money, and free time to at least find their body. Nowadays, you can find old man Shirogane at Shiroku Pub, nursing a drink and staring at case files. He and Dojima have a camaraderie with each other.

ooo these are good! A few things from my thoughts:

P4/golden takes place when he's 16-17 and Nanako is 6-7... so if Yu went missing when he was 10, then Nanako would have been a newborn at oldest. I also picture the Narukamis having lived in Inaba and then moving away once their son went missing. I think this warps the behavior of Dojima and Chisato and i can see it being a factor in making it a "Chisato lives" au, too.

Saki and Yosuke went missing at the same time. I actually figure it like a babysitter situation- with a teen Saki tutoring Yosuke when they were attacked. She dies saving Yosuke in the TV world and is the only one who makes it back to the real world as a result. The Konishis and Hanamuras actually become quite close afterwards. I think it's as you said, that the town doesn't care as much about Yosuke going missing as much as they would- say, Saki or Yukiko. But a missing kid is a missing kid and even the more bitter of Inabas citizens have empathy for a mother who's outlived her son (as far as they're aware)

Kanji would have been 9, so it's set before his rebellious phase and before his father dies. It's not so much the "delinquent" that went missing, but the "Tatsumi's Kid". I assume loosing Mr. Tatsumi later on after her son on wasn't good for Kanji's mother, though.

Rise too, would be about 9-10. I think this is before an idol career was even an option- so she's still a very shy and reserved Rise.

Naoto I can see having an investigative air, but it really depends on when their parents died. I like the idea of old man shirogane and dojima as friends. Hell, I bet Dojima calls him "Senpai" LMAO.

pretty on point for chie and yukiko tho.

[yuusishi]

*crashes in through window* hey :]

May I request Riddle, Malleus and Kalim with an S/O who's like their exact opposite in personality? (Like for example, Riddle having a super rebellious s/o)

. . . OPPOSITE ENERGIES !

pairings : Riddle Rosehearts , Malleus Draconia , Kalim Al-Asim x gn!reader

genre : fluff

cws/tws : none

a/n : my window :(

Riddle Rosehearts !!

He has (reluctantly) come to respect your rather rebellious way of life, it isn't exactly different from the way other students in NRC were behaving anyways.

All he wanted was for you not to put yourself in danger and to, at least, follow the most basic rules of the dorms and the school.

Everyone knows Riddle's behavior when it comes to rulebreakers and they also know about your "rules are meant to be broken" attitude, so everyone was understandably confused and some even concerned when you two got together.

Yes, he has a very obvious bias towards you, but it's not by a lot. If you're not a student of Heartslabyul he'll be slightly more lenient (not collaring you unless you did something really bad, etc.), he'll even allow you to break a couple of Heartslabyul's rules if they're the more outrageous ones.

Alongside the rest of the Heartslabyul students, you helped teach him things like freedom and being more carefree, helping him slowly but surely break free from the mindset his mother brought him up with.

You'd sneak him out of his room late at night to go stargazing or sometimes even off-campus on convenience store runs, during school events you'd convince him to take a few minutes off his duties as housewarden to be able to experience the festivities for himself.

Hell, you even said you'd confront his mother for him if he wanted you to. That made him think you really weren't scared of anything.

Malleus Draconia !!

You've gotten in trouble with Silver and Sebek (mostly Sebek) a LOT.

It doesn't matter if you're also a third year, he has complained to you that you can't take Malleus off-campus to go to a 24-hour convenient store run and say it was for one of his late night visits.

But honestly, Malleus has no qualms with all of it, you were a breath of fresh air to him.

Yes, rules are supposed to be followed, but where's the fun in that?

He's going to become the ruler of briar valley sooner than he'd like, is it really going to hurt anyone if he'll indulge in your carefree personality while he can?

So really, it doesn't matter to him what plans you have on his next visit, as long as it doesn't bring anyone harm he has no problem going with you wherever you'd like. Your happiness is also his happiness, you know?

You've introduced him to a lot of...interesting things, mainly very weird food combinations. He was confused when you started dipping your fries in the ice cream sundae as if it was the most regular thing in the world.

He's obsessed with the combo now btw every time you buy ice cream from the Twisted Wonderland equivalent of a McDonalds or a Jollibee he always asks for fries with his ice cream.

Kalim Al-Asim !!

He honestly finds the fact you two are opposites even cuter, it's just like those TV show tropes!!

If you're a worrywart then he's there to reassure you that there's nothing going to go wrong and to loosen up a bit and enjoy the day.

"It's not my first time being in danger, [Name], now let's go to that stall next!" "That isn't as reassuring as you think!!".

He's there to light your life up and let you experience more things that you wouldn't have been able to, and you're there to ground him and keep him from going too far.

If he's holding a party, then he's there to help you socialize more but only to a level you're comfortable with. If you're getting tired mid-celebrations then he'll walk you to your room then greet you goodnight if you don't mind him going back.

He's also fine with staying with you if you want him to!! He just needs to text Jamil then he'll stay with you alllll night, it's just like a sleepover with him there you're both giggling excitedly like kids even if you're tired.

[cobaltperun]

Lost (30 - Finale) - Tangled up in you

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 3.8k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part

-You're the fire that warms me when I'm cold, you're the hand I have to hold as I grow old-

~X~ September 2037 ~X~

No matter how many times she thought about it, Tara couldn’t wrap her head around the passage of time. In a few days your children would turn ten, a few months ago you turned thirty-six and she would be thirty-five in a few months. Mindy and Anika adopted three wonderful children that would turn four next month, and even Chad got married and had a kid of his own on the way! Sam was forty, and she somehow managed to settle down with the female cop that infiltrated the cult over a decade ago, and it was about damn time. Frankly, Tara was grateful to the woman for having the patience to deal with Sam’s uncertainties and doubts in herself.

The point was, the time was passing way too quickly, it felt like she gave birth to Zack and Susan just yesterday and now they were slowly but surely entering their rebellious phase. Well, sometimes, and for small things, but Tara dreaded the moment they’d start arguing with you and her over everything. Soon they’d be teenagers, exploring the world through a fresh perspective, learning more about themselves, truly falling in love for the first time, and all the other things Tara frankly wasn’t ready for.

You on the other hand remained fairly chill about it, saying it was part of growing up and that you couldn’t protect them from everything. Speaking of you, you were on a business trip, to negotiate a deal and handle some minor inconveniences with a partner company. You’d come back tonight, and Tara hoped she could deal with the mess before you arrived.

The entire kitchen was almost at the point of no return, almost messed up beyond all recognition, and Zack and Susan loved it. Tara, however, wondered why she came up with this idea in the first place. “Zack, sweetheart, bring me the cream,” she asked the boy as she took a deep breath and prepared to remove the cake mold around the layered cake she and the twins made.

“Mommy, this isn’t going to hold,” Susan poked the upper layer and it moved! Why were cakes like this?! She made great food these past few days, breakfast, lunch, dinner, as long as it wasn’t really complex, sweets, or any pastry aside from the simplest ones, she more or less could make it, but cakes would one hundred percent be her downfall!

“Nonsense, we followed the recipe, and I watched Y/N make these plenty of times before!” Tara remained hopeful. It would be fine, she did watch you do this even before Zack and Susan were born, even before you two got together. She could do it. So, what if the sink was filled with dirty dishes, or if there was flour all over the counter, or if the stove desperately needed cleaning and the kids and her had cream and filling and chocolate all over their hands and faces and clothes. The cake would be amazing. Maybe a bit too sweet, because she foolishly allowed Zack to add sugar to the filling, and maybe, just maybe, Susan spilled a bit too much vanilla extract into it, but it would be fine.

“Sue is right, Mom, though Mom is more whipped than this cream so we’ll be fine,” Zack set the whipped cream next to her and climbed onto the chair to watch the impending doom he was so sure would transpire the moment Tara removed the cake mold. He was so much like you it wasn’t even funny. Calm, not bothered by most things. Susan picked up some of your traits as well, but Zack was like a sponge when it came to you, picking up your traits and habits.

“It’ll be fine,” Tara said, more to reassure herself than anything else and, with her eyes closed, finally removed the mold, only to feel the layers of the cake the three of them spent hours making just falling apart.

This was why you handled the cooking, you, unlike Tara, could make anything. And you, again unlike Tara, actually loved doing it.

“See? We told you,” Susan ripped off a small piece of the sponge, dipped it into the filling and put it in her mouth. “At least it tastes good?” she offered as Tara nearly dropped her head down on the table.

She would have done it, if Zack didn’t put his hand between her head and the messy table. “Thanks, Zack,” she sighed, lifting her head up and just sitting down on the chair. This was, in one word, a disaster.

Before the boy could reply Tara heard the sound of car pulling into the driveway and, despite the mess in the kitchen, she smiled, taking the apron off and watching through the kitchen window as you stepped out of the car with your bag hanging from your shoulder and a bounce to your step. You could have parked inside the garage, but you were clearly impatient to see your family once again.

“Mom!” Zack exclaimed, running toward the doors with a large grin on his face and Susan immediately followed him, just as happy to see you again after five days apart.

“Clean up first!” oh, who was Tara kidding, this was the longest the twins spent away from you, of course they wouldn’t realize how messy they were. It didn’t help that the kids were as attached to you as she was, they loved you, looked up to you, relied on you. You were everything your or Tara’s parents failed to be, their support and protection and Tara felt lucky she could raise the twins with you. You made one hell of a team if she could say so herself and the twins were happy, and actually excited to spend time with the two of you, unlike Tara or you were when you were their age.

She smiled when she heard your laughter. “Who let you two loose in the kitchen?” you laughed and she heard both of your children laughing and shouting, she couldn’t see what was going on, but she was certain you just lifted them up, and sure enough you walked through the kitchen doors with Zack and Susan in your arms. “Another year or two and you’ll have to take turns, you’re getting a bit too big,” you laughed and kissed their cheeks as they hugged you tightly.

“We tried to make a cake for you,” Zack spilled the beans.

“We made a mess,” Susan fake-whispered to you and then pointed around the kitchen for you to see.

“Well,” you took the horror slash crime scene in front of you in as Tara just sheepishly smiled at you. “There are words that could be used in this situation,” you chuckled, lowering the kids down and walking over to Tara.

She just looked at you, too exhausted by the failure to get up and greet you. And, well, unlike the twins she was aware of how messy she was. Although, your clothes were already stained, so maybe adding a few more stains wouldn’t hurt.

“I missed you so much,” you kissed her as you wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her up, and Tara hooked an arm around your neck.

She deepened the kiss and caressed your cheek, leaving a bit of whipped cream on it. “It’s a complete failure,” she chuckled softly when she pulled back and looked you in the eyes, and she still saw the same intense, absolute love she saw all those years ago. All these years and the love you felt for her didn’t fade even a bit, in fact, it just got stronger with time.

You took her hand and brough it to your lips to taste the whipped cream. “This is fine,” you said and glanced at the filling. “That’s not thick enough though. And you forgot to put the whipped cream on the edges,” you told her, just from one glance seeing where the main issues were.

Well, you were the one who handled the cooking, not Tara.

“Can we fix it?” Susan asked as you lowered Tara back down.

“Maybe next time, I wanna eat what you guys made for me,” you said, and so you just freshened up a bit and came back to the kitchen to enjoy the end results of your family’s efforts. It was just another thing she loved about you, because it didn’t matter that the cake was a mess, Tara, Zack and Susan made it for you, and to you that meant it was perfect as it was.

“See,” Zack grinned at her, and Tara noticed that his grin looked a lot like yours. “Mom is more whipped than this,” he reminded her, causing you to ruffle his hair.

“I mean, I can’t argue against that,” you laughed, taking another bite of the cake.

“Sue got an A for her drawing, by the way,” Zack suddenly said, and Tara watched with a wide smile as Susan blushed when you, proud of her, got up and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m proud of you, Sue,” you smiled, hugging your daughter when she wrapped her arms around you.

Susan shrugged. “It’s just the usual stuff,” she said, though the smile on her face gave away the fact that she enjoyed the praise.

“Maybe, but,” you pulled Zack into a hug as well. “we’re both still proud of you. Both of you. No matter what you get at school, as long as you’re happy and put effort into what you’re doing, we’ll both always be proud of you,” you told them, and it was something both you and Tara told them as often as possible. No matter how big or how small, no matter if they succeed or fail, you would always be there to celebrate with them or cheer them up.

And Tara got up to hug the three of you at the same time. It felt good to have her entire family with her again, even if you were away for only five days.

~X~

It was late at night when you and Tara finished returning the kitchen to the original state. “Did you three have a whipped cream fight?” you asked incredulously as you brought the ladder to clean a few bits of whipped cream stains that somehow ended up on the ceiling.

Tara chuckled uneasily. “I’d like to tell you how that happened, but this whole night feels like a fever dream,” she sighed as she slumped into the chair, exhausted and sleepy, but not complaining for even a moment. Hell, she wanted to clean this all up alone and let you rest. As if you could rest knowing she was fighting the kitchen mess all alone.

At least Zack and Susan got too tired to make a fuss about their bedtime.

You climbed down from the ladder and approached Tara. “I appreciate the thought, Love,” you said, getting behind her and massaging her shoulders and neck slowly.

“That’s the spot,” she sighed contently and closed her eyes, just surrendering to the sensations of your touch over her shirt, well, your shirt, but at this point it was a shared closet. “How did your business trip go?” she asked while you lowered your hands to massage her back, or at least whatever you could reach above the chair.

“Eh, they were being greedy so I went and made it very clear we were paying them enough already, but I might need to look for another export company soon enough,” you said, thinking over the past few days. “Oh, and I managed to make a good deal, the company should earn a bit over a million from it, so that’s always a good thing,” you told her more, going into details on the deal and the work you did over the past five days.

All the while Tara nodded, congratulating, and praising you every now and then. Safe to say, you didn’t have to worry about money, and with how things were going Zack and Susan would be fine and able to pursue any interest.

~X~

Next morning you and Zack came back from the two-mile-long morning jog. Zack’s been training with you almost every morning, nothing too intense, but he went with you on a jog and did some cardio with you as well. He had no interest in martial arts though and just liked being active, and he liked to focus on the training he did do.

You followed him into the home gym you set up and, as he sat down to rest from the jog, you put on your gloves and began shadow boxing. It was one of your favorite exercises, as you moved in response to the imaginary enemy, maintaining the speed and power behind your hits as the doors opened.

You grinned, but you didn’t stop training. “Drawing again, Sue?” you asked, effortlessly switching from one stance to another.

“Yup!” Susan sat down next to Zack with a notebook and a pencil in her hands. While Zack had no interest whatsoever in martial arts, Susan did, though not the way you did. Instead of training or developing an interest in the uses of martial arts, she was mesmerized by the motions, the stances, the artistic side of it as she called it. Repeatedly she captured your movements and stances as she drew sketches, she later turned into detailed pencil drawings. She could easily depict a small fight scene through her drawings, and she was technically still nine. You were eager to see where her talent would take her. And while Zack lacked the more artistic talents, he had his own share of skills, mostly rooted in logic and math.

So, as you continued going through the motions you found yourself thinking you were the luckiest person in the world. You had two wonderful children and Tara with you, and absolutely nothing would make you happier than spending the rest of your life by their sides.

About an hour later, while you were in the middle of punching the sandbag you and the twins heard the doors upstairs opening and Tara came down with laptop in hand. “Baby you need to see this,” the urgency in her voice made you quickly take the gloves off, but the excitement in her eyes told you whatever she had to show you was good news. So, you took a few extra moments to wipe the sweat off your face as she set the laptop on the table.

Zack and Susan ran over to the laptop and paused. “UFC?” Zack read, puzzled.

You raised an eyebrow, that was the last thing you expected, but you leaned against the table and looked at the mail you got. “An invitation for the charity event? All the money made from the ticket sales will be donated,” you read, grinning as you saw the details.

“Is it because we have money?” Susan asked.

Now that you thought about it, you never really told them you were once a world champion. It just never came up.

Tara placed her arms around their shoulders and pulled them a bit closer. “Let me tell you a tiny little secret about your mom,” she winked at you and you pretended to not pay attention as the kids got excited over the idea. “Your mom used to be a world champion, the strongest female MMA fighter in the who world,” she fake-whispered.

“What?! Mom?!” Zack exclaimed, looking from Tara to you and back as if he couldn’t believe that.

“That’s so cool!” Susan shouted and ran over to her phone. From the corner of your eye you could see her Googling you and sure enough she found the proof of Tara’s claim. “It’s true! Look Z, she knocked one lady out in one punch!”

“No way!” Zack ran over to her, and you just smiled as you pulled Tara into a hug.

“You look happy,” you muttered against her neck.

“Mhm. I know you’ll accept,” she said and placed her arms on top of yours. “All these years and you’re still so strong,” she whispered as she turned her head and kissed your cheek. “My badass, adorable, MMA fighter.”

“I’ll show you adorable,” you grumbled, annoyed that she still pulled that out every now and then.

Tara looked a little too pleased with that. “I’m counting on that,” she spoke quietly, just for you to hear her. “Mmm, Daddy.” 

Fuck. She was going to be the death of you.

~X~

A month later you were more or less back in fighting shape and ready to fight. You felt good, light on your feet, with explosive punches and fast kicks and while you weren’t too confident in your grappling all these years later you had to admit that was never your go-to approach to begin with. So, here you were, once again in the octagon, surrounded by the fences and the crowd screaming your and your opponent’s name.

“You sure you don’t wanna give up, I’ll even bring you a chair so you can rest, after all, you might as well be a hag in the cage,” the girl was close to her prime, in her early twenties and, from what you heard, current world champion.

You just unzipped your jacket and tossed it outside to the team the organizers gave you and the girl paled a bit. She looked a bit like Anya now that you took a moment to look at her, only without any respect. “I’m good, brat,” you smirked bouncing on your feet and rolling your shoulders to warm up a bit.

The bell rang and the round began, and in that moment everything else disappeared, nothing mattered but the fight. Your body moved on instinct, with barely any thought in your head as you rushed the woman and landed a few quick, precise jabs.

She stumbled back, still completely open as you went for the haymaker and stopped right before your fist collided with her face. “Come on,” you pulled back and clapped a few times before beckoning her to come closer.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously as you smirked. She was faster than you gave her credit, but you weaved and dodged all of her attempts to hit you. You weren’t even keeping your guard up as she tried to go for your jaw. You just leaned back and brought your fist up, more bopping than hitting the side of her head, but she bared her teeth and tried to go for a haymaker.

You ducked and while her weight was off balance hooked an arm behind her knee and slammed her onto the floor. You didn’t follow up on it though, and instead just took a few steps back. You held up two fingers as she just blinked, looking at you as if she couldn’t believe what was going on. “One more chance, use it wisely, brat,” you said.

It wasn’t like you wanted to humiliate her, it was just that your instinct was to go for the killing blow, you needed to wait for the adrenaline to pass so you could follow all the rules. She tried again, though more cautiously this time. She was more precise, more focused, if you weren’t as relaxed and if she already wasn’t fighting at the pace you were setting she would have been a challenge, as it was, you just glided around the octagon, swaying and moving out of the way of her hits. She tried to knee you, but you just blocked her knee and pushed her back slightly. She stumbled and you went for a high kick. Her eyes widened, but once again you stopped before you could land the hit and stepped back once more.

“Warm up is over,” the easygoing smile disappeared from your face, leaving only complete focus on the fight. The cheers of the crowd became louder when you caught her in a clinch before she could even figure out that you went on the offensive. You hit her twice, breaking her hastily put up guard and then hit her face. While she regained her composure you went for a spinning back kick to the side of her head, ending the match with only a few hits and before the first round even ended.

“And the winner by knock-out is Y/N L/N!” the announcer shouted as the crowd cheered and you raised your arms high. You looked to the front row, to Tara, Zack and Susan cheering for you and, driven purely by emotions you swiftly climbed over the fence and ran over to them.

“Mom you were awesome!” Zack ran into your arms and Susan followed just a few moments later.

“Yeah? Your mom can still kick ass?” you lifted them up and kissed their cheeks.

“We have the strongest mom,” Susan giggled as her and Zack took the belt the judge was trying to give you. He looked uncertain but you just nodded, lifting your kids up higher as they raised the belt up high.

It was a short reunion with the octagon, only one fight, but you remained undefeated in your career, and you were satisfied. You fought one again, with rules and regulations and still won despite all of your instincts telling you to dispose of your opponent. And you got the chance to fight in front of your children, to show them who you once were, before the company, before training became just the way to stay in shape and capable of keeping your loved ones safe.

Eventually they gave the belt back to the judge and just hugged you tightly. With Zack and Susan still in your arms Tara stepped closer. Her eyes softened as she caressed your cheek, and then she just hugged both of your children and you at the same time.

It took years of trial and error, years of fighting to keep you and Tara and everyone else you loved alive, and you’d fight again if there was ever the need to do so. But right now nothing mattered but your family, and no matter what, as long as Tara and your children were by your side you would never be…

Lost.

A/N: So, that’s the finale, as far as the main story goes. As for the future of this story I want to do some side stories, some that are completely canon to Lost, and some that are more what-ifs than anything else. So, maybe I’ll write a few chapters about what would have happened if Tara called R over the night Amber first attacked her. Or maybe I’ll write something you request, so go ahead and tell me if there is something you’d really like to read. Truly, how often I come back to these two is as much up to you as it is up to me. Either way, thank you for reading!

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part

Taglist: @alexkolax

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ AW, FUN’S OVER.❞

—minors dni, implied creampie, poly! satosugu x afab!reader, sub! gojo, dom! reader + geto, overstim, pegging, hickeys/biting, slight dacryphilia? kind of proofread

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ ummmmm. idk where this came from. anyway i wanna breed this man’s ass, sawry for my sins (not rlly 🤷🏽‍♀️)

his chest is heaving, stuttered moans crawling from within his throat, and satoru’s hazy blue eyes struggle to blink back a fresh wave of tears. there’s a vibrant red over his cheeks, ears, his face entirely, matching the shade of his erect cock drooling strings of sticky precum down to his abdomen.

“fuck, i’m spent.” suguru heaves out a breath, pulling his softening cock from satoru’s insides. “need a break. y/n, you ready?”

an arm is bent to cover your eyes, but you adjust it just a bit to peek at your boyfriends. satoru seems exhausted—all dumb and mindless from round after round after round with both of you tag-teaming whenever the other gets tired. he has an iron grip with fingers laced between yours, squeezing even harder whenever he’s close to another orgasm. or what would be another, at this point he’s just shooting blanks, begging for even five minutes to recover, but that’s just no fun, is it?

“y-y/n–!” he tries to bargain with you as you situate between his mark-riddled thighs, the result of you and suguru’s love on his skin. they catch your eye and don’t let go, inflate your ego for a bit and it’s no wonder satoru likes to do it so much.

“you two, please—,” his whiny plea is cut off, muffled by suguru’s lips on his. a hand tugs at sleek, black strands, prompting a moan from geto, and your pussy flutters at the kinky display; even more so as suguru’s hand wanders down to fist satoru’s bobbing cock.

flicking a button, the small vibrator within the harness begins buzzing against your swollen nub, and you let out a moan as your hips thrust forward, breaching satoru’s entrance and sending a shiver up his spine. through lust-filled vision, you see suguru’s cum gush out around the faux dick, a natural lubricant that makes it easy to plunge deeper inside. his nails sink into suguru’s shoulders to leave more red, angry marks, back arching as your hips finally meet his ass.

“bein’ such a good boy, satoru.” suguru pulls back for a second, and you can see the pout on your white-haired partner’s face. his throat has long went hoarse, insults and comebacks since becoming nonexistent, though you can still see hints of that rebelliousness within the blue of his eyes.

“so pretty when you’re filled with my cock, aren’t ya?” he gives a needy whine in reply. “so. fucking. pretty.” and you rip broken moans from his lips when you punctuate each word with a hard thrust. satoru’s desperate cries grow louder, other hand clutching at the sheets as his head plummets into the comfort of plush pillows.

“is my ba–by gonna make another mess?,” your words are slurred, vibrations on your clit tightening the coil in your tummy—a rapidly approaching release forces your hips forward in eager ruts against satoru’s ass. “cum all over himself again?”

“or try to, anyway.” suguru teases your overstimulated boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his tear-streaked cheek. “i think we emptied him out a while ago.”

said man huffs, barely finding his words through a flurry of whimpers and groans. “you— you guys are, ah!, so f–fuck—ing, oh, shit!”

you lean forward, over suguru’s arm still pumping at satoru’s stiffened cock, tossing one of his trembling legs over your shoulder to almost fold him in half. “so what, sweetheart? can’t get your words out anymore, either? fucked you too dumb?

his white brows downturn in a glare. “sh-shut u–“ another hard thrust, fat tip of the strap ramming into his prostrate. “pl–ease, ah!”

a tremble rolls throughout his body, cock twitching in suguru’s hold, before satoru’s body goes limp. the stuttered heaves of his chest fade into deep, even breathes, lids fluttering shut, and he lets out a last, gentle sigh before succumbing to exhaustion.

you and suguru look to eachother, before he taps a finger to satoru’s cheek, whispering ‘you okay, love?��—you’re both content when his head turns away, brows knit together and mumbling an unintelligible complaint, before falling back into a state of unconsciousness.

both of you then get up to fetch towels, water, other aftercare supplies for your passed-out lover; suguru presses a loving kiss to your temple before you part ways for different areas of the house. “aw, fun’s over.”

tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis 🚊choo choo !

[ladybugs12]

Wait ok so imagine like Reader is like a rebellious girl in Avonlea and shes friends with Anne and Cole and Diana and shes lived there her whole life but shes also always been close with Gilbert and they’re in love with each-other but they haven’t confessed yet and Gilbert sees her hanging out with Cole and Cole like puts her hair behind her ear or smth bc they’re rlly good friends and Gilbert doesn’t know that and he like throws up and reader comforts him at his house and they confess to each other and start courting

It has been years since I actually wrote something for tumbler but I recently saw this and even though it has been forever I thought I would do something again! Sorry to anyone who wanted me to write again.

I wrote the first one when I had just watched Anne with an E for the first time and couldn't take Gilbert out of my head haha. 

Ps. I used your idea, but I didn't really run with the sick Gilbert idea much.

Much love <3

Warning: Jealousy, some angst, fluff, Gilbert is a bit insecure, slight gossip?, not proofread

Y/N had always been a free spirit. Though she was raised alongside Diana due to their mothers' close friendship and shared social standing, Y/N never fit the mold of the typical Avonlea girl. While Diana stuck to etiquette and charm school, Y/N climbed trees, helped with farm work—especially at the Blythe farm—and refused to follow what society deemed "ladylike."

She had grown up learning piano with Diana, yes, but she also lied to her parents about studying with Gilbert just to spend more time helping him out on the farm, particularly when his father grew ill. That part of her life had always made her feel more real, more alive.

So it’s no surprise she was thrilled when Cole returned to school. Like her, he didn't quite agree with the expectations placed on him, though he pushed back more quietly. His sweet nature and shared frustrations made it easy for Y/N to connect with him—and, with her help, Diana soon followed. But Cole’s growing family troubles meant he was in and out of school, and neither Y/N nor Diana could do much. Their families disapproved of the bond forming between them and someone of Cole's lower social standing.

That’s when Anne came into the picture. She and Diana became fast friends while Y/N spent most of her time at the Blythe household, helping Gilbert cope with his father’s illness and catching him up on schoolwork. But once Y/N met Anne, it was as if they’d known each other forever. There was something about Anne that understood her in a way no one else had. Anne's presence was a breath of fresh air amidst the storm swirling through Y/N's life.

When Gilbert’s father passed away and he decided to leave Avonlea in search of something greater, Y/N was heartbroken. But his absence gave her the space to focus on the parts of her life she’d been neglecting—her friendships, her studies, her sense of self. They still wrote to each other, though. At first often. Then slowly, the letters dwindled. As Cole returned to school and Gilbert's locations became harder to track, Y/N began to understand: he was doing what he loved. He might not come back.

Until one day—he did.

In that classroom, when their eyes met again, Y/N felt a rush she hadn't expected. It was the same feeling she’d get reading his letters late at night, the same feeling she pushed away over and over. But she didn’t know what to do with it. Her family never talked about feelings—especially ones like these—so she buried them, just like always. And in doing so, she pushed him away.

Romance had become the talk of the class. Walking home with a boy could start rumors. And that was just more reason to avoid Gilbert—especially when he was suddenly looking for any excuse to be around her again.

Gilbert, of course, was confused. He knew they’d grown apart, but he was trying. He wanted to rebuild the closeness they once shared, but she wouldn’t let him.

Then came the day he spotted her at the bookshop in the city. Without thinking, his feet moved toward her.

“Hey, Y/N. I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, catching his breath as he studied her features.

“Gilbert!” she said, surprised. “I could say the same.”

“I was picking up a few things—getting ready to start the farm up again,” he said with a grin, soaking in the moment of finally talking to her again like old times.

She looked away, clearly searching for an excuse to leave. “Oh. Right… the farm.”

What Gilbert didn’t see was how warm her cheeks had turned, or how her stomach fluttered with that familiar but frustrating feeling.

“What do you have there?” he asked, trying to keep her attention.

“Oh! This? Cole recommended it… it’s a romance,” she said quietly, glancing down at the book.

He caught that. Y/N knew Gilbert wasn’t stupid. She remembered reading in one of her mother’s old etiquette books that a subtle way to show interest was to imply what you were looking for. Was she doing that?

She looked up and saw his face—his cheeks flushed too, but his eyes looked… angry? Annoyed? It was a look she’d only seen on him once or twice before.

“Are you—” she began, but he cut her off.

“I should go. Bash is waiting for me,” he said, almost too quickly.

“Oh. Right…” she mumbled, watching him leave.

What were you thinking? you scolded yourself all the way home. He's Gilbert Blythe. Why would he ever be interested in you? That look he gave you—it had to be rejection, didn’t it?

Meanwhile, Gilbert was going through his own storm. Was she blushing because of Cole? Did she like Cole? Her parents wouldn’t approve… right? And what kind of man recommends a girl a romance novel unless he’s interested?

His head spun with thoughts he couldn’t make sense of—until Bash found him lying awake that night, unable to sleep. After some reluctant talking, Gilbert came to realize what he’d already known deep down: he didn’t just care for Y/N. He was in love with her.

Y/N, on the other hand, wanted to disappear from embarrassment. The idea of even looking Gilbert in the eye made her stomach churn. She had to tell someone. She needed to get it out. So she confided in Cole. Not Diana, not Anne—she didn’t want it to become something bigger than it was.

Cole understood. He didn’t ask too many questions. He just listened. And that comfort drew them even closer. They began spending more time together. Walking home alone a few times. Y/N hated that society turned every boy-girl friendship into something romantic. She wasn’t going to let that limit her anymore.

But of course, the change didn’t go unnoticed. Especially not by Gilbert.

The breaking point came one day after school when a group stayed behind to help clean up. Gilbert was wiping the windows when he saw her—sitting with Cole outside, laughing at something he doubted was even funny. Then, her hair fell slightly out of her bun, and without hesitation, Cole tucked the strand behind her ear.

Gilbert felt sick. He couldn’t take it.

He dropped everything and stormed out of the school, catching Y/N’s attention instantly.

“Gilbert!” she called, noticing the pain on his face. He didn’t even look back.

She turned to Cole.

“Go after him,” he said.

“Me?” she asked, stunned.

“Yes!” he nodded, encouraging her.

“Okay!” she grabbed her bag and ran.

“Gilbert, wait up!” she called, chasing him down. He didn’t stop.

“Hey! What’s the matter?” she asked, finally reaching for his sleeve, forcing him to turn around.

“Cole is the matter!” he blurted out.

She froze.

“You hate Cole?” she asked, confused.

“No!” he said quickly, then sighed. “You said we couldn’t walk together anymore because it would be improper. But you walked home with Cole yesterday,” he said, the doubt heavy in his voice.

She looked down, caught. “I just thought…”

She paused, too afraid to admit that she pushed him away because she didn’t want just friendship. So she deflected.

“Why does that even matter?” she challenged.

“It matters because I wanted to do that!” he exclaimed.

Her heart stopped. “You wanted to walk me home? I thought—”

“I’ve been trying since I came back, but your eyes have been on Cole,” he said, nervously shoving his hands into his pockets—something only she would notice meant he was anxious.

She let out a shaky breath and gave him a gentle push. “It doesn’t matter if Cole walks me home. I don’t like him like that…” she hesitated. “But you…”

She looked away, her cheeks on fire.

Silence filled the space between them, thick with tension and unspoken feelings—until she felt warm hands on her face, gently guiding her to look up.

“You…?” he asked, eyes locked on hers. “You have feelings for me?”

Gilbert knew it was bold to touch her like this. But he hadn’t felt this close to her in months, and he had to know it was real.

She nodded, and his smile lit up like someone had just handed him his medical license.

She closed her eyes, heart racing, half-thinking—was this it? Were we about to kiss?

But instead, he chuckled and pulled back.

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he said with a grin so wide it made your knees weak.

She could have melted into the ground from embarrassment.

“Let me walk you home?” he asked, grabbing your bag.

“Yes!” she said a little too quickly. “That would be lovely.”

it’s safe to say that later that week, Gilbert Blythe left a letter on the school’s notice board.

[nickjunesource]

Have you changed your mind about Season 6 since the press release? Do you still think there will be an ambiguous ending? Are you excited?

Well we're certainly disappointed that they're dragging out ambiguous Nick for what seems to be about 8ish episodes this season. We'd expected him to take a bit more of a rebellious streak, with him starting off more June and Holly-motivated, working within the system to try and bring about change (much like he's done so far with killing people like Guthrie, Fred, and Putnam), and handing over select info to to Tuello while not feeling comfortable working with a government, and developing to become more about burning down the system itself and engaging more with Mayday/June's rebel squad as reforming within isn't effective with so many happy with things as they are. So for Nick specifically, we're changing our guesses to his story primarily about breaking free of his dependency on Gilead (which is the only real home he's ever known), building up a sense of self worth that doesn't depend on the approval of a father figure, standing up for himself, and engaging in external resistance activities that aren't associated with June or Lawrence and don't involve using the system against itself to clean up Gilead. If done right, this can be a great story, but we truly don't trust this show, especially given they've clearly decided to redeem Serena of all people.

We're cautiously hopeful for a decent, fulfilling season with a great internal journey for Nick, but we've lost hope for any significant rebel Nick scenes which is disappointing. And June is likely to be pretty insufferable but that's pretty par for the course with her but it'll likely be pretty rough this season. We're not keen on Luke going rambo or Serena being redeemed, but we have lots of interest in Janine still, and the Whartons, Moira, and Lawrence all have our interest. We still think the ending will be ambiguous, but we do feel like the tone of that will shift. The press release makes it seems like Juke is done; that they're working together as coparents for Hannah and that they love each other in that capacity but are no longer in love. And thank god for that- this should have been the case come the first episode of season 5. No, we suspect the ambiguous ending will now be whether or not June and Nick are together, broken up/separated but clearly could get back together, or if June will be on her own and single. We can picture a scene of them starting anew, with each of them introducing themselves to the other- "It's nice to meet you." and signalling a fresh start free of Gilead and full of promise.

With Max and Lizzie both listing the Bridge Kiss in 4x03 as their favourite moment, which is a scene involving Nick and June coming passionately together after what was marketed as a betrayal back in s4, we could see something similar to that again where they reunite and join together after a "betrayal", only this time with them going off together into the rebel zones rather than Nick returning to Gilead. There's a scene in the full trailer where it doesn't appear that Nick is wearing his wedding ring, so we can't help but wonder if Nick is going to bridge the gap this time and join June at the end of it all.

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Forty-Three

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Before Fireheart could really ponder over Yellowfang’s words, he was back to work—though now, at least, with a strengthened, newly bloomed energy. Whitecloud gave him orders and discussed tasks with him, looking at him as keenly as he had before Fireheart had talked to him about deputyship. Perhaps he sensed Fireheart’s returned willpower… not that it really mattered. Fireheart had a job to do, and he was going to do it.

As if to praise him for his brightened attitude, the oppressively cloudy skies turned ragged and patched, revealing the stars and the moon. Suriin’s half-shut eye grinned as the air’s chill lost its biting edge, apologetically pulling the fog back.

“Don’t let that ease you,” Yellowfang said to Fireheart one clear night. “Things that frolic in the mist are still about. Follow not a silhouette or a scent you do not recognize.”

Not the least of which being the dogs, Fireheart thought as he nodded respectfully.

The snow was not keen on going away; it hardened and crunched under paws, sticking to the ground and turning brown, losing its oddly calming beauty. Cats had to step carefully to avoid making too much sound, often following well-trod paths where the soil rebelliously fought back and reemerged. Granted, it was still freezing, but it was so good to have solid ground under Fireheart’s paws again.

However, despite what Fireheart had been told, prey did not return as quickly. The plant life of the forest had not grown back yet, leaving most of the prey that had not retired underground or fled south in the fall to wander further away from the usual hunting spots in search of anything they could eat. What could be caught was still skinny and stringy, and most of it went to the nursery’s tenants and the elders. Fireheart wondered more than once, going to bed with a growling gut, if this was how ShadowClan felt all the time.

That wasn’t the end of their troubles. The dogs were still wandering around, now in the south, never spotted but always scented to varying degrees of freshness. The Clan was left with very little fresh ground that had anything to hunt, but no one was bold enough to risk heading south and testing their luck.

Greystripe, though, had an idea, one that he whispered to Fireheart for him to suggest (“I don’t think Whitecloud would be keen on hearing it from me,” he said). Fireheart quickly went to the deputy as he was visiting his aunt in her stinking den and reported it to them both.

Whitecloud blinked. “You think we should try it?”

“I do,” Fireheart said, trying to ignore the squint of puzzlement Bluestar was giving him. He had long given up on her remembering him. “We really should have been hunting there earlier, but, well, the dogs made that a bad idea. But now that they seem to be near Sunningrocks…”

“I understand.” Whitecloud’s eyes were lit with approval. “Get a patrol together and head that way. I hope you find something good.”

Fireheart bowed his head to both of his leaders and backed out of the den, turning around and trotting back into camp. It was still very early; only a few cats were awake, none of them eating the meager rations that could hardly be called a prey-pile.

“Teaselfoot, Sandstorm, Frostfur,” he called. “Could you come with me, please?”

The cats in question looked up and joined together in front of the smaller warrior, but they all regarded him with the same respect they gave Dustpelt and Whitecloud. It did, admittedly, make Fireheart feel just a little bit taller.

“I’ve spoken with Whitecloud about an idea of where to hunt,” he explained. “You don’t have to come with me if you don’t approve, but I think it’s going to guarantee us a meal or two.”

Teaselfoot’s ears perked. “Well, well, Fireheart’s going to suggest something unusual. That’s new.”

Frostfur swatted him with her tail. “Where are we going?”

Fireheart braced himself for protests. “The Houses.” Before any of them could react, he hurried on. “The humans constantly have their seed-bags full in their yards. I know how well those squirrels and birds eat. We couldn’t go there before because, you know, the dogs, but I think we should try our luck while the dogs are elsewhere.” Sandstorm narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I know, the Clan doesn’t really know how to hunt there, but I do. I can give you some tips as we go. Are you interested?”

The older warriors looked between each other, silently trading curiosity and skepticism. Fireheart held his breath, waiting for all of them to say no.

Frostfur was the first one to speak. “I think we should do it. I’m in.”

“Yeah, I’ll go too,” Sandstorm said. “If for nothing else, for a chance at a decent meal.”

Teaselfoot sighed dramatically with good-natured teasing. “You’re really twisting my tail here, Fireheart, but I suppose I can’t refuse the offer to feed my Clanmates.”

Fireheart snorted. “Feel free to turn around at any time. Come on.”

The patrol was in the woods in moments. The snow outside of camp had been trampled down enough that there were plenty of paths to take to keep their steps quiet, even as they thinned out the further away from home they got. Fireheart picked the one he knew best and started off at a brisk pace, his Clanmates following and chatting behind him.

“If only the dogs hadn’t been here this winter,” Frostfur said. “We could’ve gotten so many good meals.”

“Yeah, but then we’d have to contend with kittypets whining about strangers taking their food,” Sandstorm said. “No offense, Fireheart.”

Fireheart looked back at her. “Actually, I didn’t know any cats who hunted when I lived there. One cat told everyone he did, but I know for a fact he never left his yard.”

“Ooh, kittypet lore.” Teaselfoot craned his neck forward. “Was he the one that told you about us?”

“Oh, no, everyone knew about you,” Fireheart said, turning around again. “Even far back into the neighborhood, kittens were warned to never go into the woods, or they’d be eaten by giants. I don’t think the grown-ups believed it, but it kept everyone behind the fences.”

“As they should be,” Sandstorm said. “You think you’ll see any cats you know, or are they scared of the snow?”

Rosy and Smudge, please don’t find me and give the game away, Fireheart thought. “It’s a little too cold and dark for them right now, I’m sure. My one friend only ever came out at night because I liked to, and I’d make him explore with me. If he’s still around, he should be asleep.”

To his relief, his Clanmates accepted this, turning to each other now and talking about hunting. Fireheart led on, offering a word or two when a question was lobbed his way.

They were within sight of the Houses when a strong scent hit his nose. He stopped, lifting his tail for everyone to copy him, which they did.

“Humans are close,” he said in a low voice. “Look and see if you can spot them before we get to the street.”

Sandstorm growled under her breath. Hesitantly, the patrol continued on, their eyes, ears, and noses keen. The evergreen plants were reoccurring through this part of the forest, blocking their usually clearer (albeit branch-infested) views. Wherever the humans were, they were being quiet, too, and this close to the Houses, their scents were more or less everywhere.

Finally, a voice sounded off, shouting into the woods and making all of the cats jump. Fireheart crouched and scooted to the right until he was well-hidden by a bush and could peer out of it, his Clanmates following suit.

Through the stiff leaves and bare twigs, there was a pair of humans. Both were garishly colored with their heads covered and hair hidden. The shorter one was speaking to their companion—from the tone, they were scolding them, and by their loud whisper, they were not eager to be heard. The second one’s face twisted and stretched in a grimace, but they said nothing, just shifted the long grey thing in their paws and lifted it slightly.

“Stars help us,” Teaselfoot whispered, sounding almost scared. “I know that thing.”

Fireheart looked at him. “What is it?”

“A rronakrak*.” Teaselfoot’s tail puffed out in agitation. “I’ve heard of them in stories. They’re the claws of humans.”

Fireheart peered at the thing. “It doesn’t look too dangerous to me.”

“You’ve never seen one before?” Sandstorm hissed. “I thought you had a stone that showed you things.”

“I guess it didn’t have one of those on there.” Fireheart rolled a shoulder as best as he could. “What’s wrong with it?”

Frostfur now, calmer than the younger warriors. “Stories say a human just points that thing at something, and the end of it explodes with thunder and fire louder than any noise in the world.”

“And then whatever it was pointed at dies instantly,” Sandstorm added with another muted growl. “See, this is why humans are mucked up. They have the audacity to steal the fire of Horoa and turn it into a tool of murder. So many animals just trying to live their lives get killed by what should be ours, and should never be a weapon used by some random mortal.”

 Fireheart frowned in confusion. “I thought Horoa kills things, too.”

“Monsters and wraiths, sure,” Sandstorm said flippantly. “But they don’t count. They’re dangerous and ought to be dead.”

Fireheart was about to ask, “Well, didn’t his fire nearly kill us?”, but the humans started walking forward, heading past the faces of the cats, still talking to each other. Human-like, they never noticed their audience, and shuffled through the snow further into the forest. The rronakrak was pointed down the entire time, harmlessly cradled in its bearer’s hold.

“What do you think they’re going to kill?” Teaselfoot whispered, as if the humans could hear them from this far away.

Fireheart immediately perked up. “I think they’re looking for the dogs!”

“We should be so lucky,” Frostfur muttered. “They’re probably going after a deer or one of us.”

“We have no reason to be killed,” Fireheart told her with a bit of sternness, like she was a paranoid apprentice. “If they wanted us dead, they would have done it before I ever came to ThunderClan. I saw the humans before the fire with one of those things, and never before that. It’s most likely dog-related.”

His Clanmates didn’t look convinced, but he could see the hope dawning in their eyes. He gave a firm, supportive nod, then beckoned with his tail.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get some prey before they come back.”

Whitecloud was somehow calmly startled when Fireheart’s patrol burst into camp, each carrying a piece of prey (Fireheart had two; he hoped some cats noticed). They tossed their prey onto the pile and rushed up to Whitecloud, ignoring the surprised looks on everyone’s faces.

“We saw some humans in the woods,” Fireheart said immediately.

Hisses and growls, as he had assumed, followed this news. Whitecloud waited for the noise to stop before asking, “Did you see where they went?”

“They were on the Houses border,” Fireheart explained, “and they went deeper into our territory. We didn’t see them again—we just hunted and came back here as quickly as we were done.”

“Then they could be anywhere,” Dustpelt said, coming to stand beside Whitecloud. “Would you say they went south…?”

Fireheart nodded, finishing Dustpelt’s thought. “Where the dogs are.”

“They had a rronakrak,” Frostfur added. “Fireheart thinks they’re looking for the dogs.”

Murmurs followed this, cats looking at each other questioningly, as if their Clanmates had the answers.

“Humans don’t usually hunt dogs,” Whitecloud mused. “They hunt with them. But the deer aren’t around yet, either, and the pheasants are gone…”

“There’s no other reason for them to be around,” Fireheart said. “They don’t kill cats with those, do they?” At Whitecloud’s headshake, he continued eagerly, “So the only thing here of interest is a pack of cat-killing dogs. I’m sure of it now—they’re here to help us.”

Dustpelt frowned. “That’s very ideal, Fireheart, but we can’t count on that to be the end of our problems. You have the chance to be wrong.”

“As in anything,” Fireheart replied simply. “But I have the chance to be right, too.”

Dustpelt gave him a skeptical head-tilt, but he said nothing else. The Clan spoke to each other—and, to Fireheart’s delight, a few of them seemed optimistic at the prospect.

“What’s our next move?” Mousefur asked. Fireheart wasn’t sure if she was asking Whitecloud specifically, from how her head turned to him and Dustpelt too.

Whitecloud took a moment to close his eyes in thought, before opening them again and moving to the meeting stump. The Clan gathered around immediately; all faces turned up to him with hope and fear.

“As long as the dogs are still scented in the south,” he announced, “we will continue to hunt in the north. Fireheart, it’s clear that your hunting patrol to the Houses went well—” Exclamations interrupted him as cats stared at Fireheart. “I approved it, everyone, stay calm. I think that we can make a couple trips here and there beyond that border, if hunting doesn’t improve here in our own territory. Fireheart, you won’t mind leading more patrols that way?”

“I’d be happy to,” Fireheart responded, his own voice loud and clear.

“Then that will be an emergency plan.” Whitecloud’s tail waved and curled. “For now, we’ll keep our noses to the ground and watch the humans if they continue to tramp around our territory. Stay north, and stay close to camp if you can help it.”

“When can we train outside again?” Brackenpaw shouted, clamping his mouth like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Whitecloud gave him an amused look. “When we can safely say the dogs are gone. If Fireheart’s right, and those humans are here to take care of them for us, that may come sooner than later.”

Out of the corner of Fireheart’s eye, Cloudpaw shuffled his feet uncomfortably, his tail tucked between his legs. Fireheart made a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight.

“Is that all the news?” Whitecloud asked Fireheart. At Fireheart’s nod, he said to the Clan, “For now, let’s stay inside camp tonight. We’ve got prey to last us for a night, and we’ll send out multiple hunting patrols tomorrow.”

Like a waterfall, he smoothly jumped down from the stump and passed through the crowd as it dispersed. Willowpelt caught up to him and asked something Fireheart didn’t catch; he disregarded it and padded to the prey-pile (thankfully larger than usual), picking out one of his catches, a fat squirrel. He immediately turned and walked to the nursery, where Goldenflower was sitting alone.

“Where are the ants?” he asked, setting down the squirrel in front of her.

“Asleep, thankfully.” Goldenflower licked his ear. “You look starved, honeymouse. Why don’t you have this?”

Firehear couldn’t help staring down at the squirrel, his stomach threatening to growl. Looking back up at his mother, he said brightly, “I only need half.”

Goldenflower purred and crouched, nudging the squirrel until the bottom half was pointed at Fireheart. He crouched himself and started to eat, forcing himself not to rush.

As he ate, he eyed the cats around him. They were talking about the dogs and the humans, mostly. It pleased him that more of them looked hopeful than afraid.

You have faith that StarClan’s looking out for us, he thought to them. Have faith that this might be their doing, too.

*”Rronakrak”: a gun - literally “thunder-stick”.

[windser]

i feel like writing for russell adler would revive me. but idk where to even start. he definitely has that mature vibe but the whiplash of bell's pov in cold war to his seemingly usual persona amongst allies in bo6 is both feeding me and stumping me.

i get the impression he likes to be pushed a lil bit, something to break the mundane of the strict and norm (i.e woods and sims). loves to banter with all his snarky quick quirps.

i like the idea of saddling him with an upstart (not a rookie) but someone who has been proven in regular operations and up for evaluation for the 'shadows'.

giving adler the fun job of coaxing out their rebelliousness, while also awakening something that he'll have to suffer the consequences of. (less of in bed by 9pm for a fresh start and more partying out until midnight with energy to spare).

just ideas. open to suggestions