#hes constantly angry at me though during the early game!!!

[mindrell]

No, shoo

[magnificentpollytaco]

What are your ocs names? i like your style, it reminds me of late 90s early 2000s anime : 3

thank you so much!!! that's what im trying to go for!!

you gave me the push to make a short intro of all my ocs :D

Lilith, a succubus from the Noctemera subspecies, is quiet and thoughtful, rarely showing her emotions, except when she’s angry. She’s in love with Yui, and being around her softens her usually cold and distant demeanor, though she never lets her feelings fully show. She’s Seraphina’s rival in love, and they argue a lot, but deep down, she considers Seraphina her best friend, even if they’ve never talked about it. Lilith loves poetry and can’t stand chaotic environments

Seraphina, a succubus from the Igniluma subspecies, is playful and flirty by nature. She’s totally in love with Yui and puts all her succubus energy into trying to win her over, though it doesn’t seem to be working. She loves teasing Lilith, who she’s had a deep bond with since they were kids. She absolutely hates chocolate but loves being around people

Yui, an anthropomorphic rabbit girl with a heart of gold. Despite being very shy, her joyful presence always warms the hearts of those around her. She struggles to distinguish between romantic and platonic feelings but loves her friends deeply and unconditionally. Yui is selfconscious about her height and wishes she was shorter

Aiko, a cupid, is an introverted and deeply insecure girl... some might even call her a femcel. She’s Dio’s roommate and spends most of her days holed up in their room, except when she’s needed for her impeccable work as a cupid. Ironically, her own love life is a complete disaster. Aiko is a total gaming nerd and absolutely hates working

Dio, quite literally the creator of the world, is sarcastic and lazy. She spends her days snacking and doesn’t care much about her appearance. In a world full of all kinds of creatures, no one really cares that she’s the creator of the universe.. she’s just another student on campus. She’s always there to help Aiko out of her messes but absolutely hates leaving her room

Akuma, a towering and calm Oni, is actually a bit of a goofball with a cheeky streak. He dreams of being popular with girls, but his awkwardness and nervous rambling always get in the way. Much like Yui, he struggles to tell the difference between platonic and romantic interactions.. and he can’t even figure out his own feelings! He’s Orion’s best friend, a fan of the Bloodhound Gang and absolutely can’t stand silence

Orion is a brooding and strikingly handsome cyclop. Though introverted by nature, he unintentionally attracts a lot of attention from girls, which he openly despises. He’s usually reserved, but when he’s alone with Akuma, his playful and cheeky side comes out to match his best friend’s energy. A dedicated League of Legends player, Orion absolutely hates being in crowded places

Hiroshi, Yui’s cousin, is an anthropomorphic rabbit man. He’s composed and strict, holding his family’s honor and his hometown in high regard. Hiroshi developed a crush on Lilith during his attempt to bring Yui back home, which leads him to visit the campus more often than he’d like. His relationship with Lilith is onesided, he’s completely smitten with this icy woman, who despises him but secretly enjoys the attention he constantly offers, treating him almost like an obedient servant

[bunni-v1]

Congrats for 500 followers! If it’s alright, could I have A, G, J, K, P, and S from the sfw prompt list for Idia? Thanks!

🍓Thank you so much! I'm happy to have so many people who like me so much! This event is good practice for me too, and a breather from the intensity of the fic I'm writing right now. (I'm more excited to write for Idia than anything else, he's just so silly, you know?)

A - Affection: Idia is quite a nervous wreck when it comes to affection, that's for sure. Up until getting into a relationship, he thought the couples that were all mushy-gushy with each other were gag-worthy. However, now that he's in a relationship he's desperately craving that same kind of touch. He's like a feral cat, you've gotta coax him into it, and once he's into it he won't want to stop. Seriously, if you catch him at a good time he's so damn clingy. Lays on top of you, have you sit in his lap while he games, cuddles up to you during movie marathons, smothers you in kisses, all the nasty stuff. He'd rather die than be seen doing it in public though.

G - Gentle: Believe me or not, Idia is very gentle. Yeah, he's sarcastic and sharp with other people, but with you he's different. I mean, he's still... sarcastic and sharp, but it's playful and light. He's having fun and he's trying to make you smile, and that's his form of being gentle. If you were ever really hurt by something he said he might just have to end it all. Seriously, it would make him feel so bad, that he'd be groveling at your feet for weeks. Physically, however, I'd say he's gentle but really clumsy. He treats you like the most expensive piece of jewelry in the world, but he also has accidentally almost suffocated you under his weight at some point.

J - Jealousy: Idia is the most jealous man you've ever met. ("You know other men?") He's got an inferiority complex mixed with imposter syndrome and depression, leave him alone. He's not going to force you to stop hanging out with people by any means -- in fact, he's kinda jealous that you have so many friends in the first place. Still, he huffs and puffs and pouts about how much better they would be for you and how much happier you'd be with them. Again he won't act on anything unless he REALLY felt threatened. Like, if Vil ACTUALLY made a move on you? Game Over, Idia is running from his room to intervene.

K - Kisses: Just like everything else, Idia is an AKWARD kisser. It's not his fault he's so anxious, okay, he's doing his best. Idia's specialty, however, is lazy kisses. You know, the ones where you just lay next to each other early in the morning (in his case, late at night), and just kiss slow and easy, like there's nothing else more important. Those are his faves. Speaking of, he LOVES to kiss your cheeks -- you're just so cute when he catches you off guard. It's the same for him, your little surprise kisses on his cheeks may send him into a heart attack, but he does love them so much.

P - Patience (how easily angered are they?): He has a temper, that's for sure. While it's rarely ever directed at you, it can be kind of scary to see him rage. I mean, his hair literally turns orange and flames up -- and damn is it hot when he's angry. Still, his temper only really applies to things like games or tv shows, rarely would he ever have a reason to aim it at you, unless you destroyed his limited edition merch or something.

S - Security (how protective are they?): Idia is a VERY protective person. He's been through a lot, and he's lost a lot, now that he has you he won't be losing you. He texts you constantly throughout the day to see how you are feeling, and what you're up to. If you're stressed, you are always free to come to his dorm and raid his room for all the comfy blankets and yummy snacks you need. He also literally keeps an eye on you from the campus security feed -- if he sees someone bothering you, either he or Ortho will be there within seconds to ensure you're happy and safe. On the other hand, you standing up for him and making him feel like he's worthy of your love and all the good things he has is all he ever wants. It's all he needs.

[underwaterdevil]

I saw your “Im looking for mutuals to be friends with” post and let me tell you, I have So Many Thoughts about Shigaraki

like, I feel like people don’t really think about how tragic of a character he is! I didn’t really like the way he was framed as a “man-child” because so many of his behaviors, especially relating to video games and action figures/plushies seemed like he was genuinely in so much distress that he was involuntarily age regressing and AFO was using his impaired state of mind to manipulate him into thinking he’s playing a big game of heroes and villains

I think it’s very likely that he was stuck in the mindset of a scared little kid well into his twenties and that AFO forced himself into the role of father in a way he felt that Shigaraki would think of as normal when he knew the situation Shigaraki was in.

this is also reflected in the way that Shigaraki treats Kurogiri like an older sibling, since at the time that AFO… adopted? kidnapped? Shigaraki, he was struggling with the loss of his big sister. In all likelihood, AFO started out by trying to remake Shigaraki’s family with himself as head of the family.

YES I LOVE PARAGRAPHS P L E A S E ENABLE MY SPECIAL INTEREST 🤤

a n y w a y

I totally agree with everything you said. Shigarakis character is so tragic when you get into it. Alot of people are desensitized to media because of how fucked up anime backstories can get, so i feel like Shigarakis situation isnt treated as seriously as it should be by most of the fandom.

Alot of his mannerisms and hobbies are definitely very childish and could indicate that certain things (the hands) could trigger him into a more infantile like state of mind. Thus making him more impulsive, violent, and less concerned with the consequences of his actions with concern to other peoples lives (please note im talking about early shigaraki). Alot of times children will exhibit violent behavior not out of pure malicious interests but because they're state of mind makes them more reactive. I think shigaraki gets triggerd in his everyday life and gets triggered to become violent. For example he gets incredibly violent and angry during stressful situations, more than the fellow leauge members. So there definitely could be an argument made that some part of his brain regresses when exposed to triggers OR part of his brain is less developed due to the trauma.

His interests also show he likes more socially childish things, especially when you take into consideration that hes in japan. If you look at the picture of his room in the manga we see plushes and figurines, which adults definitely collect aswell, but the ones he collects look more like action figures and not really collectable figures (thats just my opinion though) and also the plushy shows that he does have an interest in these more childish things because i kinda doubt AFO or Kurogiri bought it for him.

When people face as bad of trauma as shigaraki did (physical abuse, emotional abuse, neglect, killing his entire family) its not uncommon for them, purposefully or not, to regress to a younger age usually the age at which the trauma occurred. I think shigaraki, wether or not his hobbies have to do with age regression, is at a higher risk of developing this coping mechanism. He is obviously under stress alot. And he was kidnapped by AFO and groomed. Constantly under the expectation of "demon lord" and the pressure of iving up to AFOs potential. I could definitely see him locking his door getting snacks, playing games, looking at his figures and plushies, and feeling his mind slipping him into a younger mental age. But i can also see him get triggerd by any sudden movements or violence and get involuntarily put into a more regressed state of mind.

AFO definitely is trying to make a family for tomura, but not for tomuras sake. We saw that AFO loved his brother and family obviously is something he values so want to have tomura act as his child could provide him some sort of emotional satisfaction. (Along with the satisfaction of knowing his evil is working) And shigaraki definitely treats Kurogiri like an older sibling figure, i have an older sister and the way they interact reminds me of my sister and i. I think shigaraki may subconsciously replacing hana but i also think that tomura is just hanging onto the only person who has been there and provided for him (emotionally).

Sorry if this makes no sense or has mistakes im writing this as my sleeping pills are kicking in and while im watching YouTube so my mind is all over the place but nowhere at the same time lmao im just ranting aboit shigaraki putting whatever came to mind on this post. I might sit down and make an in depth and more well put together post about this ask because i think its super interesting i love tomura shigaraki so much omfg

Thank you so much for sending this ask!!!!

[thebookworm0001]

I would like to know how Taavani's wild magic manifests and has it ever gotten her in trouble?

I love Reycarn's design so much, she looks gorgeous and terrifying! What's your favorite part of her backstory or something that happened during your game?

Ilrith is just beautiful, like a sapphire. How did they become a bard? Were they a popular performer back home?

Keiran look like a sweet cinnamon roll. Is he? (he also reminds me of Alistair. lol) How does he get along with Shadowheart?

Your Lloth-sworn durge looks positively evil. What's the worst thing she does in your playthrough?

Thank you for the asks! I love these!

I would like to know how Taavani's wild magic manifests and has it ever gotten her in trouble?

The better question is when hasn’t it gotten her into trouble. The first time her wild magic acted up, she burned down her house. And giant bonfires in the underdark aren’t exactly helpful. She gives Gale a fair amount of anxiety because a simple illumination spell may end up with them having a Cambion to kill. Summoning spells, polymorphs, teleportation. You name the spell, it’ll happen and at the absolute worst opportunity. Why does she keep using her magic? Probably because it would feel a bit like cutting off a limb. Sussur flowers are not a favorite plant of hers. 

Probably the funniest and surprisingly helpful instance of this was a fight in act 3 and having everyone, Big Bad included, turn into sheep for several rounds. Couldn’t do a damn thing to the enemy but was able to use my one not transformed companion to knock out an environmental thing so the fight could actually end. There was still an angry-from-being-summoned cambion to take out after that but hey it worked. 

I love Reycarn's design so much, she looks gorgeous and terrifying! What's your favorite part of her backstory or something that happened during your game?

She’s got a design I am absolutely in love with. Though I am eternally amused at how many dark urges get this same tattoo lol

My favorite part of her backstory is that she’s always been trying to be a good person. She was raised to treat people well and to seek to help those around her before her Urge came to her. But even when she doesn’t have any real choices about her Urge and the positions it puts her in, she still tries to aim her impulses at people who actually deserve what she’ll do to them. Though that gets more terrifying because she actually enjoys those occasions just on her own. She’s real fucked up. But losing her memory is probably the best thing to happen to her in a century because of the fresh start it gives her.

Favorite thing that happened in the game that isn’t Spoilers is probably just how terrifyingly lethal she is in battle. Her current build means she usually gets to sneak attack at the very start of combat and the damage she does is. Absurd. She is constantly slipping into and out of invisibility to utterly wreck anyone in her path. 

Ilrith is just beautiful, like a sapphire. How did they become a bard? Were they a popular performer back home?

Ilrith would be flattered by the complement. She sorta stumbled into it. Picked up music at an early age and ended up sneaking away to joining a traveling band a lot earlier than is probably wise or safe. But the troupe that she ended up with was fairly popular. They had requests to perform for a handful of nobles around Faerun, even. They dropped off the map a bit when one of their group - a teenager who’d joined them from a group of druids - died pretty horribly. Ilrith just couldn’t will herself to play for a while. She’d finally got back into the circuit when the Illithid picked her up.

Keiran look like a sweet cinnamon roll. Is he? (he also reminds me of Alistair. lol) How does he get along with Shadowheart?

He is such a cinnamon roll. Just. The sweetest. You’d assume he’s a life cleric meeting him because the idea of that darling boy hurling lighting and thunder just doesn’t compute. 

He loves everyone, but has taken to looking at Shadowheart with the biggest puppy-dog eyes. He just thinks she’s amazing. The shar thing is… well. Mostly he feels badly for her. Shadowheart is mostly (pretending to be) annoyed with how much of a goody-two-shoes he is. (They’re gonna get married hehe)

Your Lloth-sworn durge looks positively evil. What's the worst thing she does in your playthrough?

So far? Kill Arabella. Like, very much on purpose gets her killed and got warm fuzzies thinking about making it happen. This is my evil Durge run and I’ve barely gotten to the grove, so it’s going to get so much worse. 

[snappleapple]

their favorite types of kisses

people in this - dream, georgenotfound, sapnap, wilbur, punz, jschlatt, awesamdude, quackity

headcanon!

the most disgusting fluff i’ve ever written

warning - cursing, i think that’s all but if there is more please do not hesitate to tell me :)

word count - 2k

a/n: okay okay, i might’ve lied earlier about that being my last post but this was short and easy to make which is why i would like to feed my readers this early haha. anyways, enjoy and please disregard the errors in this post, i hate proof reading anything lol. also, i’ve been very indecisive on the title and i might change it later and ooh, my masterlist will be made soon. i’ve just been feeling very unproductive these days. also, please put in requests, i am so bored and dumb therefore there are no ideas in this brain. and if you’d like a part 2, i might add more people for the part 2!anyways, peace!

dream -

i get the feeling that dream’s favorite type of kisses would be cheek kisses

he just likes to watch as you struggle to reach his height

“aw look at those little legs do their thing.”

ends up with you not giving him his kiss

and mans becomes SO pouty

“y/n…come on. don’t be this way.” :(

if you don’t kiss him on the cheek, will also become SO clingy and whiny

“why won’t you KISS ME!”

clenches his fists and stomps away like a teenage girl during puberty

slamming the door to your room

so then you have to go and give him all the kisses he wants

his face is slammed into your pillow

you sit on the side of the bed and pet his hair

leading him to stare up at you with puppy dog eyes

“i will give you all the kisses you want. so stop being so pouty, you big baby.”

will literally leave zero feet of space between you and him

taps his cheek to tell you he wants kisses

when you go on dates, will literally make you stand on your tippy toes to get his kisses

does not bend down at all and actually lifts his head higher to tease you

in other words, clingy but rude hoe

george -

george is a classic romantic

he loves just lip kisses

pecks or lingering ones

he doesn’t care

mans don’t need too many kisses

nor does he need to be too clingy

total opposite of dream and sapnap *ahem clingy ahem*

if he wants a kiss,

he will come over to you and get it

doesn’t get pouty if you’re busy

just waits patiently

doesn’t enjoy it when you interrupt him when he’s streaming so you do your own thing

when you’re watching a movie with him,

he will literally only stare at you with his cute smile

and listen to your every criticism of the movie

he likes to just peck your lips whenever he feels like it

and you’re just not surprised anymore

just likes to stare at your lips whenever you talk

overall, is very sweet but not to an extent with showing affection

sapnap -

omg

sapnap just vibes with neck kisses

it tickles his neck and he loves them

giggles when you pepper kisses along his neck and flushes a deep red

“y/n. stop.” giggles between each word

but when you do, becomes the saddest person in the whole world

“i was joking.” :(

when he’s streaming and he begins to miss you

would leave his room and find you just to get a kiss

just like dream, would get angry if you give him no kisses

“GIVE ME KISSIES!”

very amusing for you

and you love to tease him

“i don’t want to give you kissies.”

continues to stare at you with a large frown until you give in and give him kissies

lsg supremacy but i’ll get into this later hehe

you better give him kisses or you’ll be dealing with a very sad sapnap

sadnap :(

wilbur -

wilbur, wilbur, wilbur

what can i even say

total nose kiss guy

i bet he’ll boop your nose twenty four seven

asks stupid questions just to get your attention

“y/n?”

“yes wilbur?”

“is a hotdog a sandwich?”

“why-“

“boop.”

“did you just say boop while you booped my nose?”

if he’s streaming and you bring him a snack

he will hold your face still and leave kisses on your nose

not too clingy but not too distant

likes to be just right with you

if its snowy outside and your noses get red

makes dumb jokes about he is rudolph and you’re mrs. rudolph

just a lot of smooches from wilby

takes you to a lot of hidden cafes in the city

and while you read, he balances his head on his palm, staring at you in admiration

if you’re insecure about your nose, you legit can’t be around wilbur because he will go on a tangent about how beautiful it is

substantially, soft boy hours all day bro, besides when he gets mad then you leave the hormonal man tf alone

punz -

i don’t see a lot of punz on tumblr so here we go

punz loves hand kisses

not to an extent where he has a hand fetish

god no but just like

when your holding hands, he’ll occasionally pull your hand up to his lips and leave a kiss

lots of hand holding

and i mean lots

constantly gets mad fun of for being a simp but ignores those comments because he genuinely loves you so much

likes it when you play with his hair and messing it up

also likes to compare hand sizes with you

always has a hand on your thigh or your hand in his whenever he is driving somewhere with you

even when you go on dates, always holding hands

no matter how sweaty your hand gets, he will hold on

sometimes if he holds on for too long, you have to tell him to let go

“punz, my hand is super sweaty. lets take a break from the hand holding.”

would flat out decline so you would have to pry your hand out of his

he would also love it when you would kiss his hand

makes him feel all polite and precious LOL

would also wrap his pinky along yours when you walk together

he once came with you to a family gathering for christmas and was so SHY

shy boy held your hand for security while your younger siblings made fun of you

afterwards, when you were under a mistletoe, he kisses you on the lips before kissing you on his favorite part of your body,

your hand

c!jschlatt -

jschlatt is a whole mess

the first time you met, he confessed that he would hate you for as long as you lived because you made fun of his boots

now he says he still strongly dislikes you but you’re more tolerable

doesn’t like it when you make him soft and HATES it when he blushes

“why must you do this to me, mother nature?”

also “hates” it when you even touch him because he “hates” you

when he actually confessed to you that he liked you with his grumpy usual grandpa voice,

you kissed him on his forehead, after he bent down of course

he is an actual giant and threatens to squash you like an ant if he feels the need to

is an absolute monster to you but loves it when you kiss his forehead because it makes him feel secure and loved

likes to watch the wind blow through your hair and mess it up but gives you his hat because he like you being “all pretty and shit”

gets SUPER jealous when you hug children

like for example, when you went over to a family gathering at his house, his cousins came up to hug you

and when you let go of the child, the man child comes and lugs you over his shoulder

gets yelled at by his mom and gives her a sheepish smile before rolling his eyes and throwing you down on the sofa set next to him

his mom doesn’t approve of the way he treats you but you tell her its fine because he’s cute

when you are far from any type of civilization or in the safety and solitude of your own home, he wants kisses on the forehead

pointing up to it and bending down so you could reach it

“y/n, i only love you because of your forehead kisses.”

“you only love me for my kisses?” :(

“mhm.”

actually feels slightly bad

“and because of your personality.”

“thank you-“

“shut up. we don’t talk about this.”

in conclusion, give him his forehead kisses or perish

awesamdude -

sam just adores it when you give him jawline kisses

not because it’s basically the only place you could reach but because it’s a sweet gesture

sam is all about sweetness

i mean have you even seen this man on his stream

he likes to watch you while you have conversations with your friends

not in a creepy way but more like an adoring way

cause man does he love you

i mean not only does he love you but his whole family does

and when you’re alone with sam, you love to bury him underneath all of your love

“i love you sam!”

“no i love you more y/n!”

“NO i LOVE you more!”

“NO i LOVE you MORE!”

“SAM NO. I LOVE YOU MORE!”

“okay thank you sweet pea.”

leaving you a bit confused but happy that he accepts your love

when you cuddle, omg

he never stops peppering kisses all over your face and vice versa because your relationship is disgustingly fluffy

when he lends you one of his sweatshirts, you sure as hell better wear that shit out or else (i am leaving a blank threat here)

sam loves technology but you guys sort of have a system

a system that involves mailing each other love letters rather than texting them

you guys also go on a ton of walks just about anywhere

hand holding is mandatory even though you probably look like a child compared to him

just give sam lots of love and in return, you’ll receive lots of love

quackity -

mans cannot leave you tf alone

likes to do ANYTHING freaky around you

“i will follow you to the ends of the earth, mi amor.” or

“ayy, back off.” if anyone gets too close to you

messes with you twenty four seven and makes it his job to drive you insane

plays horror games at two in the morning for fun

and when he gets scared, hides in the safety of your arms

“mi amor. i’m scared.”

“shut the fuck up and sleep, alex.”

“okay.” shuts up quickly and snuggles deeper into the crook of your neck

loves you so deeply but HATES your cat

“look at that little dumb thing stare at me. you got a problem bro?”

your cat also HATES alex

scratches him all the time and hisses at him

if you think sapnap is babie, wait till you meet alex

“y/n he bit me!”

when you glance down, you don’t even see a scratch

“kiss my boo boo.”

wtf

“what boo boo? there’s nothing there.”

gasps as if you offended him

“this boo boo that your el demonio did to me.”

this man will do anything to get boo boo kisses

istg, you once found him provoking your cat to get some scratches

in alex’s mind, ouchies = kisses from y/n

always has ouchies from god knows where and shows it to you

even though you find it annoying at first, you grow used to it and it sorta becomes your thing with alex

alex is babie and you need to take good care of him :)

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our little love part 2 - mafia/yandere au Drabble {angst + fluff}

As always please let me know what you think, I am actually going to go to bed now my brain is angry with me for not sleeping.

It seemed the cycle was never ending, you fucking up and pissing them off, them punishing you by drowning you in their love, only letting you come up to breathe so you could swim in your own guilt and submit to them.

You wince as the victim to your latest fuck up gets another blow to his chest. Taehyung and Hobi held onto his arms as Jungkook and Jimin kick and punch the poor individual. You know not to speak, it’ll only make things worse. Temperament was a fickle thing in their lives, trust was everything, and you still had to build yours up again.

“Y/n help please,” Kai whimpers as you stood with your arms crossed looking away.

“Don’t fucking say her name,” Jungkook growled before punching your ex colleague in the face. You’re frowning, the need to beg them to stop was fighting for exit on the top of your tongue, but you bite it down and pray Kai doesn’t say another word. You know if you do as he asks they’d kill him. Your punishment was to watch silently.

Yoongi strolls up behind you, hands in his pockets before he rests his head on your shoulder, watching the display in front of you both.

“Nothing to say little love?” He whispers as your friend groans out in pain.

Please don’t kill him, you want to say, but you just shake your head in defeat. You want to believe they’re better than this, but the evidence of the contrary was never hidden from you. They showed you every side of them whether proud of it or not with bold eyes daring you to stop loving them, pushing your boundaries and morals waiting for you to snap. But the breaking point never came, you loved them, you shouldn’t and you knew it, but you did. You were completely and utterly theirs, yet still they treated you like you hadn’t seen the worst of them. Like you would run away the second you realised they were monsters, not that they would let you run far, only far enough to let you take a single breath before making you drown in them once again.

Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist, keeping an eye on your reactions. The asshole deserved it, not that they cared either way, he tried to take you away from them, that was enough.

Kai was your old partner before you took a very early retirement, what you didn’t know was that he continued the case you were working on before you left; the case of the seven men you now loved and the reason you quit said job. He had called you to meet up for old times sake and you, very naively in Yoongi’s mind, decided it was harmless. But if it was harmless why didn’t you say anything to the boys? You thought Kai didn’t know the reason you handed in your resignation, but he had been keeping an eye on you all before he realised you were the key to their downfall. He knew you harboured some feeling for him in the past and thought you’d reciprocate when he tried to flirt his way into getting his hands on the evidence you collected, he didnt know you burned it all. You lied to him and said you lost it, same difference anyway. This prompted plan b from him.

“Y/n they’re criminals,” he had said to you. “You’re a cop at heart you can’t love them.”

You floundered at his words when you realised he knew, and yet he still asked you to betray them.

“Kai I think I need to go...”

It was a mistake, you knew it then, but he followed you out onto the street and you hoped tonight the men you loved weren’t keeping an eye on you. Maybe naive was an understatement.

“Are they coercing you Y/n! Do they have something on you or are they threatening you?” He calls after you. “Because the Y/n I know would never love killers, what have they done to you?”

It was when he reached his hand out to grab your arm that your boyfriends decided to show themselves from the shadows. Which lead to the situation now, Kai beat up and bruised beyond recognition, and you forced to watch. He falls unconscious and they let him drop to the floor, you hate this side of them, it was cruel and cold but you’d never leave. They turn to face you now, their anger still present despite the last hour of releasing it onto your old partner. They don’t miss the way you’re shaking, the shallow breaths as you try and keep your tears to yourself. As much as you hate their violence, you hate their disappointment in you more.

——————————————————————————

You’re sitting in Joonie’s lap for what you call the debriefing of your punishment, this happened way too often in your opinion. You look down but he wasn’t having it today, tilting your head to look at him by your chin.

“Why did you get punished today little love?” He starts the same way as usual.

“I went out without telling you guys where I was going or who with,” you say while fiddling with your fingers out of nervous habit.

“And?” Hobi sits across from you in a chair, legs straddling the back and an elbow rested on top with his fist holding up his face. Hobi was hardest to pacify, he was ruthless and unforgiving and while that didn’t extend to you, you still had a hard time with his stubborn anger.

“I met up with Kai, and I let him touch me,” you’ve done this too many times before to not know how it worked. Kai’s ‘touch’ obviously meant nothing to you but for them it was the worst crime anyone could commit against their little love.

You remember the time you nearly tripped in the park and a guy steadied you politely, but you still had to hold Jungkook back from throwing hands.

“Kookie would you rather I fell and hurt myself?” No he hadn’t wanted that so he grumbled in agreement still seething but you cooled it down. “Instead of hitting him maybe you should thank him,” it was a joke but it made the youngest scoff.

“Baby girl why can’t you just be good?” Namjoon’s sigh brings you back to the present. “Why do you always have to test us like this?”

You didn’t mean to, you want to say it but the words are stuck below the sob in your throat. You actually whimper as his tone, bottom lip wobbling pathetically. He hadn’t even told you off properly, but you already felt like a mess as he bathed you in his disappointment. That was the common consequence of your actions and you hated it, you couldn’t do anything right.

——————————————————————————

“Jin do you need help with the food?” You ask your eldest boyfriend politely, he was frowning and you thought it was because today’s meal was too much for him to handle alone, his tone of voice made you realise it was because of you.

“No, I’m alright,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks and you’re left gaping at him like a fish. Jin loved it when you cooked with him, it was your bonding time without the others, although Yoongi would join you from time to time. The others also tried but Jin wouldn’t let them anywhere near the kitchen, they hogged you enough anyway.

You feel your soul deflate, still standing there as he ignored you.

“Are you mad at me too?”

The way you said it made his heart twinge with guilt, but the others were right you wouldn’t learn and your first betrayal was still fresh on their minds. He sighs and you turn away, refusing to crying in front of them for the tenth time that day. What was wrong with you? Ever since that day where they found out who you really were you felt like you werent enough anymore, you tried so hard to make up for it all but you kept messing up. You weren’t like this before, but after seeing the hurt you put them through you were constantly on edge and second guessing yourself. You wish you could go back and stop them from ever finding out.

Jin hears the sniffle as you walk away and he can’t go through with it.

“Wait little love,” he calls for you. “I forgot to cut the onions, would you mind?”

You shake your head, you didn’t mind, but you didn’t trust your voice to answer for you. Youre grateful to Jin for giving you this task, it hides the fact you’re crying, but you know he doesn’t miss it.

——————————————————————————

Jimin and Taehyung were giving you narrowed stern gazes through dinner, it put you off your food which resulted in getting told off by Jin just after he branched out to you in the kitchen.

You felt alone, like the seven men you loved were against you and there was no one to blame but yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly before getting up and removing yourself from the dinner table and dining room, ignoring all of their stares. You decide maybe an early night is best, you could start again fresh tomorrow. You don’t get too far up the stairs before a hand pulls you back, you turn to see Jimin with Tae a few steps behind him.

You’re so used to seeing them laugh and play around that it feels like you’re looking at different people. Even during missions or gun fights, the youngest three were always joking their way through the bloodshed, keeping scores of who got the most headshots and other grotesque games. You remember the time Jimin and Tae called you during he middle of a shoot out, arguing with you and each other over who you loved more out of the two while you begged them to not get shot or killed.

“Why did you go see him Y/n?” Jimin asked, he wore the demeanour he used for enemies and it takes you back to that night.

“I... h-he said he wanted to see me to catch up,” you explain but you know it’ll fall on deaf ears.

“And you thought that was a good idea, to see your old cop buddy?” His tone makes you feel stupid, you weren’t stupid.

“He was my friend Jimin,” you say in disbelief, you know in the end it was a mistake but at the time it didn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“You’re ours,” Taehyung moved forward, towering over you even though he’s a step below you. His face is close to your own, eyes burning into yours as he looks disgusted at the words that left your mouth as if they’re still attached to you. “How do you think we felt when you went to see another detective? Do you have any idea what was going through our heads?”

“Tae I love you,” you lean away from him, searching his face for a hint of softness and love in his gaze, but there was only fire. “You know I wouldn’t, you all know I wouldn’t, I left that life for you why would I turn back to it?”

He stalks away from you without a word, Jimin close behind, giving you a final cold glance before leaving you alone. You thought your love could make them better but if anything you made their darkness worse.

——————————————————————————

Jungkook needed to vent, the only way he knew how was physically. Obviously it wasn’t the cleverest thing he’s done, taking rounds with the punching bag only to open up the cuts on his hand from beating the bastard earlier. He mutters a few curse words under his breath, why did you make matters worse? Maybe they were being harsh on you before today, finding any excuse to punish you a little, test your boundaries and see if you would run, but today they honestly feared that was what happened. They thought you chose to leave them and go back to the life you had before them, but they’d never let you go, they couldn’t let you go. Despite everything you loved them and they worshipped the ground you walked on. You were everything for them now, there’s be no point to any of them without you. Why didn’t you understand that?

He throws another punch to the bag, spreading his blood across them, it hurt like hell, but the thought of you running back to your old partner still played on all of their minds. He wanted to cry, he wanted to find you and beg you to never leave them, they’d be nothing without you.

There’s a knock on the door and he finds you on the other side, waiting for permission to come in. You never waited for permission, it makes him frown, maybe they were too harsh on you today. He could see you shuffling your weight, insecurity screaming through your eyes, you feared his rejection more than his anger.

He notices the first aid kit in your hand, you must’ve heard him. He doesn’t let the fluttering in his chest reach his face as he sits on the bench, waiting for you to come to him.

His gaze is expectant, daring you to cross the threshold and face him, you were no coward, you didn’t fear them the way others did, why were you behaving so meekly now? You force yourself to move and sit beside him, setting the kit down and pushing your hair back behind your ears. He doesn’t move his gaze away from you, even with the sweat and hair hanging in front of his face.

You carefully take a his hand into yours, sucking air between your teeth at how injured it was.

“I’m sorry you hurt yourself because of me,” you say, eyes on his bloodied knuckle as you press the ointment against the open wounds. “Are you sure you want me to stay, I keep hurting you...”

You try to sound like you’re joking, that you’re okay and the hurt isn’t weighing you down with your doubts. He frowns, they really did take it too far. He sets down the cotton wool from your grasp, taking both of hands into his before kissing each finger delicately without letting you look away.

“You’re perfect little love,” Jungkook says, reassuring you with no question in his voice. “We’re the ones who don’t deserve you, we’re mean and cruel but we’re never letting you go.”

You remember how loving they were before that night, maybe while they accepted the truth at face value they could never really forgive you in their hearts. Maybe that’s why they were being like this, they didn’t love you the same way anymore.

“Do you love me?” You had to know, the doubt was eating you alive.

He looks at you as if you’re insane, maybe you are, you don’t know anymore.

“Little love, don’t you see how much we love you?” He asks sincerely. “We would do anything for that love even if it made you hate us, you belong with us, and no one is going to take you away.”

You could see the crazed look in his face grow as he spoke, you believed him, the honestly worn like a heart on a sleeve. But his answer bought a wave clarity to your hazed vision, you made them like this, you made them worse, you had to leave.

[kkusuka]

What about a insecure reader about her and Ushijima's relationship since he doesn't seem all to interested in having her around unless it's for volleyball purposes. So when she starts to drift away from him he's super confused, suddenly Tendou becomes more comfortable to sleep on at movie nights, and Reon seems to know everything you used to tell Ushijima. And he struggles internally because he doesn't know what to do. And the last straw was when you walked in holding Goshiki's hand and he walked over pushing the 1st year away with a worried/pained/anxious face shaking his head saying no because he doesn't to no what else to say but he knows it's not right.

Muddle<3

relationship: ushijima wakatoshi x reader, slight oikawa tootu x reader 

words: 1.5k 

synopsis: Ushijima can’t bare to lose you. 

cw: insecurity

a/n: i havent written something like this in a while and i really missed it! 

Ushijima Wakatoshi was not emotionless.

Simple, but not emotionless.

It was something that had to be constantly reminded before people began to truly believe he didn’t feel anything. He’s had his many licks with emotion, as anyone else would. The joy of finding the one thing he truly loved doing; volleyball. The confusion when his mother began reprimanding him for using his left hand. The overwhelming helplessness when his father walked out the door.

Butterflies when you smiled at him in the hallway, the heat in his cheeks when he saw you in the stands at one of his games. The shake in his hands when he met you at the gates and told you his feelings, very detailed in facts.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was clearly not emotionless.

So why was it he seemed so indifferent to you?

You knew he had to feel something for you, people don't empty their entire heart just because they felt like it, at least you hoped. Of course, as much as he denied, you knew that you would be on par if not second to volleyball. In a sick way; you were fine with it as long as he came back to you and let you share some of his burdens, you were happy.

But as of recently, it seemed that he couldn’t even do that.

Gone were the nights he would fall into your arms outside the gym doors because he’s been practicing for five hours straight. The walks in the park when neither of you could sleep, ones that ended in his arms on the couch watching some random food network show.

So now, as you leone the couch, void of the warmth you so desperately crave; you can't help but wonder if it was only you who felt the distance between you.

Your door unlocked- just as you thought it would. Your boyfriend slipping through the door, eyes immediately finding your body draped over the end of the sofa. He could still see the dinner you had made, glazing over the dirty dishes, proof he was hours behind when he said he’d be here.

“Tosh? Is there any way we can spend more time together? It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve done something.”

“No. Nationals is arriving soon, I cannot do anything about my schedule. We are spending time together right now.”

If Ushijima was not emotionless; how was it so easy for him to dismiss you?

Did you and Tendou always have a Wednesday movie night?

Ushijima raked his mind for the last time he’d seen this; the last time he was in his dorm on a weeknight. He knew you and the redhead were good friends, close since the first year of high school. He remembered something about a sleepover before you had begun dating and the occasional dinner at some fast-food restaurant.

He understood both your and his love for anime, and the movies alongside. But if he hadn’t known any better, he would assume that it was to two of you dating, not yourself and him.

Clearing his throat, you both glanced from your spot, huddled on the couch, inviting him to sit beside you. It was nice, though he knew nothing about what was happening on screen, something about demons and a little girl along with a boy with boar head overtop his.

The second the credits rolled, you and Tendou engaged in a conversation that he couldn’t even begin to understand. Somehow ending in another plan to go out the next night for a store opening that will have a manga that you both like.

Finally, as Tendou left, you noticed how silent your boyfriend had been since getting there.

“Would you like to come with us, Toshi?” Would he? The ice in his eyes held the answer far before he spoke.

“No. I will be practicing.”

The statement seemed like nothing. A simple retort you’ve heard so many times you could predict what he was going to say before he did. The phrase forced the memories of laying alone on the couch and sitting at restaurants staring at the clock for what felt like-- and really was-- hours a night.

You could count o one hand how many dates that he’s been early too, or even stayed the whole time. That’s even when he accepted your invitation.

Your friend had warned you that you would feel like this, abandoned and thrown to the side. ‘Why do you stay?  Clearly, he isn’t treating you right, o find someone who will!’

“Just for a little? We haven’t been out for a while.” you plea, noticing how he was ready to walk away.it felt like ages since you’ve had an actual conversation.

“Y/n, don’t start right now. I am tired, and I have already told you that I am busy. Quite pestering.” pestering? Is that what you meant to him, were you a bother?

Tendou had always reminded you that Wakatoshi wasn’t good at feelings. He didn’t know how to put what he felt into words. You accepted that, you understood that emotions can be harder on some people.

But now, it wasn’t just feeling an word, it was actions. It was the missed dates he never apologized for, the charging past you after practice that he stayed overtime for. It was him turning his back on you before you could respond.

As you turn your eyes catch one of the photos you have taped to your wall, a selfie you and him took during a trip to Harajuku in May. You bought matching bracelets both with small flower charms on each, ‘a symbol of eternal love’, yeah right.

‘If you’re the only one putting in effort, it’s not a relationship, it’s desperation’

Ushijima Wakaothish may not have emotions, but he surely had one.

Jealousy.

Green and far too ugly to acknowledge.

He may not understand the butterflies when you smile or the warms when your hand locks with his, but he knows exactly what the burning in his veins is. The furrow in his brown and deeper frown than normal, he’s jealous, extremely at that.

A fact that anyone who looked at the man could see, his aura radiated exactly what he was feeling, a true sight to behold.

His mind was muddled, what right did Oikawa have to even share the same breath as you, never mind put a hand on you. His mind ran through all of the things he could possibly do right there, he could punch the brown-eye playboy, but then he would be in trouble.

He could make a big scene and yell at him, or he could do nothing, just watch as the Seijoh playing steals your attention. Suddenly he’s thrown into memory, Reon and you chatting at the lunch table. Like you’d been friends for years, the smile that was supposed to only be meant for him plastered on your face.

Then it was Goshiki and his blistered hands that you so dutifully wrapped for him, holding his hand so tenderly that Wakatoshi wondered if it felt like when you held hands with him.

Then to Tendou, your pro-claimed cuddle buddy.

Would it even be worth it to stop Oikawa? Has he already lost you to someone else?

He couldn’t let that happen, not when he still had a chance to keep you.

You were violently ripped from whatever stupid pick-up line Oikawa was spouting by two hands on your hips. Your entire body was pulled into a hard chest as the same two arms cradle you to his.

“Waka-”

“Don’t talk to what’s mine, Oikawa”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry, he practically snarled at the setter, turning the both of you and walking down the hallway to the ext before the brown-haired man ould even retort.

“Toshi are you-”

“Please don't leave me.” Another emotion you’ve never seen from the man, fear.

He was acred, losing you was the end of the world for him. What was he supposed to do if you aren’t there for him? Who will he look at in the crowd to keep him going during the fifth set? There is simply no one that can give him the rush you can.

“I know I’ve been bad, and I’m so so sorry. I can make up for the dates and we can go to the manga store and to dinner whenever you want. We can watch movies after practice and cuddle whenever! Just please don’t leave me for Oikawa!” he pleaded, taking your hands to his, holding you so tightly and yet like you were glass.

“Wakatoshi, I’m not leaving you. Please calm down, I’m not going anywhere.” You move your hands to cup his face, finally taking notice of the tears looming in his eyes.

And you smiled. The smile just for him, taking his head onto your shoulder, slightly rocking back and forth. His hands rubbing along the length of your back.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I won’t let you.”

tags: @bakugos-cumsock @rinsangel

[chubbology]

The Munchies

prompt: a stoner feedee's girlfriend uses him to test out new edibles and deals with his munchies

Remmy returned home from visiting relatives on the last day of December, and he was very glad to be back. They’d fed him well and his pants were tight, but all the small talk and bad vibes had been as much of a drag as usual.

He opened the door to his apartment and breathed in a familiar, potent scent.

“Baby!” Brianna ran from the kitchen and tackled him.

“Happy almost New Year! Wanna hear my resolution? Baking and getting baked. Check it out.”

She brought him over to the counter, where she was almost done filling up three containers of what Remmy had no doubt were various edibles. He ignored the kitchen mess.

“I’m liking what I see,” Remmy laughed.

She preened and then pinched his love handle. “I bet you do."

"These aren’t your typical brownies, though," she said. "This is gourmet.” She kissed her fingertips in a muah.

The first container was full of moist shortbread, the second with a kind of apple crumble dish that looked divine. Last but not least, the third had a jumble of what like peanut butter cups.

“Try something!” Brianna gushed. She seemed to be a little floaty already. “You’re gonna be my new taste tester. I think I could really be good at this. Make some cash, too.”

So Remmy tried one of the peanut butter cups. His eyes widened, and he smiled. “Bri, these are incredible.” He ate another.

“Take it easy. Two should get you stoned. So says the recipe anyway.” Brianna rubbed his pudgy forearm as he eyed the rest in the container, biting the inside of his lip. “Hey. If you’re just hungry, I can fix that. You wanna eat?”

“I’m starving,” Remmy said. A lie, since he’d had a big lunch before driving back. But he could eat.

“Okay, I’ll get you something! Pay day was Monday. Let’s splurge. What do you want?”

McDonalds, Remmy’s mind supplied easily, in an almost salacious tone. His relatives thought they were too good for McDonalds, and now his body thrummed with the desire to just get a truckload of those greasy combos and revel in the guilt and satisfaction of eating every last unhealthy bite.

Then again. Brianna probably wasn’t okay to drive right now, he didn’t feel like getting back in the car, and the scale told him he’d hit 240 recently, “Let’s just order in.”

“Sounds good to me.”

That night, as they ignored the idiots on television bringing in the New Year, the two of them picked at the apple crumble - which tasted as brilliant as Remmy had suspected - and lounged around, enjoying their high. Brianna barely touched her Chinese takeout, and Remmy ate all of his. Then hers. Then he started grazing the kitchen for more food.

Over the course of the next week, the two of them finished off the rest of what she made, plus some more recipes that turned out delicious. Brianna got a pleasant high every time, and Remmy enjoyed the edibles, too, although his experience was slightly different. It was just—

He just—

He got hungry. Munchies but on unholy overdrive. Cranked to eleven and a half. With every high, Remmy became a little more overwhelmed by the sheer amount of food he felt compelled to pack away, savory and sweet. Takeout and fast food and quarts of ice cream. Nuts and fruits, too. Jar of peanut butter here. Tub of icing there. He’d never been very active, so it came as no surprise when his clothes began stretching over his chest and belly and thighs and ass. He popped a button getting dressed one morning and couldn’t stop thinking about it the rest of the day. He hadn’t realized it would happen so quickly, his body converting all the calories into flab. Flab that padded him out chubbier than he already was, and then more on top of that. In the mirror, he started to look big.

Brianna seemed unfazed by her boyfriend’s growing girth. She took to her baking resolution with as much gusto as she did anything that interested her, and even into March, April, and May, she was selling the edibles well and raked in money that almost made her day job obsolete. Remmy was constantly praised for being “the bestest taste tester ever” and enjoyed a steady stream of free highs to balance out the lows of spending most of his time working his IT job from home.

Working, gaming, watching old movies. Remmy already stayed sitting most of the day, but as he gained weight, gained a lot, filling out his desk chair to its limits, crumbs becoming his constant companion, he felt even less like standing up. His weight climbed to 280, 290, 300.

June, July, and August passed uneventfully, and pretty happily, too. Brianna stopped asking him what food he wanted from the grocery store and just bought him things. Bought him things she knew he’d eat when he got high, things that made his ass spread wider on the couch, his arms round out like sausages, his pudgy chest start to really droop. The scale said 320, 330, 340.

Remmy gave up trying to gain control of the new appetite Brianna’s heavenly edibles seemed to install in him irrevocably. When he craved, he ate, and he ate. And like a dam breaking, his body surged with so much excess fat he began spilling out of even his newest clothes.

He was a little ashamed, sure. But quite a few of his relatives were fat, so they couldn't talk, and it felt like sweet revenge to embarrass his irritating parents by becoming so overweight. As for everyday life, well, he just moved around from room to room slower, wore the same stretchy clothes a lot, and that was it. Remmy did mention his weight in passing sometimes to gauge Brianna’s feelings about it, but Brianna only ever giggled, called him cute, and passed him her venti sugary monstrosity of a coffee concoction, which he thoughtlessly sucked down to the dregs, ingesting a thousand-plus calories just like that. This made her eyes sparkle, huge and utterly endeared.

“Like a piggy,” she said, thumbing his fat cheek. “Always willing to eat.”

In bed, she made it clear she liked him the way he was, and was becoming. And it wasn’t long before Remmy realized he was into how big he was becoming, too.

They continued like this. Getting high together and watching movies and making out and snacking. Well, Brianna snacked. Remmy feasted. Gorged himself, to put it precisely, with Brianna’s enthusiastic help. “You look good soft,” she’d tell him, playing with belly fat that his stretchiest t-shirts couldn’t cover anymore.

Remmy would swallow another bite of a snickers and spread his huge thighs a little, with effort. “You call it soft, but I’m the one who gets tired moving from the office to the kitchen.” I’m so heavy, he wanted to say. God, I’m so heavy.

“Just move your computer to the kitchen then,” she said. “Duh.”

It was a seed planted that came to fruition a month later - when Remmy’s food cravings became unmanageable and his weight climbed past 360 - that he felt he would simply be more productive during his day job if his breaks to get food from the kitchen were shorter.

By November, whether he was high or not, Remmy was grazing all day, everyday. What Brianna got from the store became insufficient, and he started a habit of ordering take out most days. In big portions. His scale creaked at 375. When Brianna wasn’t home, he sometimes ate takeout on the scale to see if the number would rise.

On Remmy’s birthday in early December, Brianna made a fresh batch of his favorites again: the peanut butter cup edibles. After ordering pizza for delivery, she got in the shower, and Remmy scarfed down three of the big cups as soon as they cooled. Then he waited, leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone, belly hanging, feet hurting. He didn’t want to go to the effort of sitting on the couch and getting back up again when he could just stay in the kitchen, where he knew he’d end up anyway.

He scratched his supple underbelly. Found a pack of Twizzlers and started eating those.

Soon enough, his breathing slowed as he felt the high slowly come over him. And, as expected, his whole body immediately began to tingle for satiation. Fattening food sung to him from the pantry and fridge and freezer all at once, and it was all going to make him so huge and heavy he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own wide feet, but he wanted it anyway.

He didn’t care if he was pushing 390 now. He’d blown up, yeah. Inflated from a thick guy to obese and waddling. At this point, he was so pumped so big with blubber that he couldn’t twitch without jiggling, but so what? He was hungry. Being high made him want to consume, and so he did. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.

Remmy opened the fridge and took out his birthday cake, which Brianna must have stuck in there after getting home from work. He couldn’t wait to eat it properly. There was no way he could wait until after the pizza came. Besides, it was his birthday. Remmy took off the plastic lid of the round, triple chocolate cake and felt his nerves light up with anticipation. He was going to eat it all, and there was no stopping him.

He found a knife and cut himself a slice three times the size any reasonable person would take. Desperate to get the goodness into his mouth without delay, he skipped a fork and bit right into the gooey, dense cake and mouse and fudge. God, Brianna was so perfect for getting him the unhealthiest cake imaginable. She knew he didn’t care if he was ten pounds heavier tomorrow, if his fat ass ripped his sweatpants open, if he ate so much he couldn’t haul himself to bed—she knew he needed this.

He ate slice after slice, and it was mostly gone when Brianna got out of the shower, looking sexier than usual in her matching purple lingerie. She’d gotten chubbier with so much junk food in the apartment, and fat clung to her in all the right places. But her pudge was a far cry from his angry-red stretch marks and neck rolls. Hell, his moobs had grown bigger than her tits.

She found him in the kitchen, eating and holding his drooping belly, and she rubbed his back, cooing at him when he apologized.

“It’s okay. I figured you wouldn’t be able to wait all night. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Remmy said, but all he could think about was getting his next bite. As she watched him, he tried to hold out. Tried to prove he could stop eating for two seconds. Three seconds, four - his resolve broke and he crammed the rest of a slice into his mouth and chewed, choking back a moan.

“You get the munchies so bad, don’t you?” Brianna grinned and leaned against his belly, patting and cupping his weighty breasts in the way she knew pleased him. “Let’s get you sat down. I’ll bring you what you need. Just sit and relax and watch whatever you want.” They moved to the couch and Remmy sat, the cushions wheezing, his thighs and belly quivering. Brianna tucked the remainder of the cake into his pudgy hands. “Don’t worry about a mess. It’s your birthday. And there’s more where that came from.” She winked. “I just needed to keep this cake refrigerated because it’s fancy. There’s a whole sheet cake on top of the fridge that’s cheap and huge. Covered in icing. Perfect for munchies.”

Remmy could only feel a wave of relief at this news. There would be more cake. And after that, there’d still be more junk in the cabinets. There was pizza coming. His high was just right. Brianna turned on the television to his favorite show and he settled further back into the cushions, feeling his second chin swell out and engulf his first. Everything was just right. He was lucky to have Brianna and food. So much food.

A year later, around the same time, Remmy skipped his usual trip to see his relatives for the holidays. At 520 pounds, it was simply too much effort to move.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[shig-a-shig-ah]

ABEYANCE

» pairing: shigaraki tomura x gn!reader » word count: 4.3k » notes: I have to give a big shoutout to @thebiggergroove​ for sending this in as a request during my 500 follower event and to them and @awkward-confused​ for encouraging me to turn it into a full fic <3 Also this is my first time trying completely gender-neutral smut so I’d love to hear thoughts if you have them :) » contains:  angst, breakup & makeup, alcohol use, explicit sexual content. 18+, minors DNI. » ao3 mirror

Like my work? Support me on Ko-fi or request a commission.

It's early. Too fucking early for Tomura to be awake, at least on a usual day, but his sleep has been fitful at best and so he hadn't even bothered trying this time. He'd spent the night absorbed in one of his games instead, a rare indulgence at this point in his life, but even that hadn't calmed him the way that he'd hoped, hadn't done enough to distract from his thoughts or his feelings, the ones that have his neck constantly prickling and the urge to decay everything in sight nearly overwhelming. Months ago he would have given in to that urge, but there's no Kurogiri to clean up the messes anymore, no Sensei to replace whatever toys Tomura breaks, and so he controls himself. Anything he destroys now is lost for good.

He convinces himself that a shower will make him feel better; he's somehow sweaty from doing nothing, and his teeth feel fuzzy and unpleasant from the residue of too many energy drinks. He'll clean himself up and then maybe he'll finally be able to sleep, he thinks. But the universe apparently has other plans.

He's not prepared to see you in the hallway, was certain you would have left by now. That you'd have wasted no time returning to your normal life, forgetting all about him sometime in the three days that have passed since you two fought.

No. Not fought, he reminds himself, his stomach twisting. Since you left him.

You freeze like a startled animal when you see him, your lips parting and your eyes widening, making it clear you weren't expecting to encounter him either. You've been avoiding him, he realizes - it's the only possible explanation for how your continued presence could have escaped his notice.

His first instinct is to simply push past you, ignore you completely, but the thought of you sneaking around the hideout unbeknownst to him strikes a bitter chord in his hollow chest, and he can't quite tolerate letting you slip away without having to face the consequences of what you've done, even if only in some mundane way.

"I didn't think you'd still be here," Tomura says flatly, fingertips twitching. The itching in his neck feels unbearably deep, the skin crawling all the way down to the sinew beneath, begging to be scratched, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction.

Your eyes stay cast down and to the side, and that deference gives him a petty thrill as you explain your continued presence in a meek, halting voice. "I'll go as soon as I can, but it's been hard to find a place. You know I can't go back to my family, or my friends."

He knows. Of course he knows. He was the one to point it out to you, to make clear that if you joined the League and committed to being with him that you'd be saying goodbye to your normal life. You'd told him then that you didn't care, that you'd stay with him until he achieved his goals, and that the two of you would build a new, better world together.

What a lie that turned out to be.

Tomura wants to tell you that he doesn't give a fuck where you go as long as it's not here. He doesn't need you hanging around the hideout, taunting him with your presence when you were the one who was so quick to agree to leave. He hadn't meant it when he told you to get the fuck out, had just been frustrated and angry, and it wasn't as though the two of you had never fought before. But then you had gone, just like that. It had happened so quickly that all he can do now is wonder just how long you were wanting to go, how long you'd simply been waiting for the right moment.

If he’d known you were looking for a convenient out, he would never have been so stupid as to give you one.

But it's too late now. The damage is done and you've made it obvious this isn't where you want to be, not anymore. That knowledge sits like lead in his stomach and has his teeth grinding so hard he thinks they might crack, but even so he can't quite bear to be cruel to you. So, he only mutters, "Stay as long as you need to."

He's about to move past you, desperate to flee your presence because he can't stand one more moment of just how weak this makes him feel, but he hesitates when your expression softens slightly at his words.

"Tomu..." you start, before trailing off, your teeth catching your lower lip in that thoughtful way he used to find so cute, and suddenly his heart is in his throat. The use of that nickname doesn't help either, the one he wouldn't tolerate from anyone else but that always sounds so sweet on your lips. For a second Tomura thinks you're going to tell him that you didn't mean it, that you want to stay, and an unwanted flicker of hope sparks in his chest. He could forgive you in a heartbeat if you only said you hadn't meant it.

Instead your gaze drops again, your shoulders slumping as you swallow hard. “Thank you,” you mumble before retreating back to your room.

Tomura stands there. The sound of your door closing and the lock clicking into place weigh heavy, and for a brief moment he's awash with the urge to decay it, to simply follow you whether you want him to or not and demand that you take this all back. But he doesn't. Instead he swallows the urge down and forces himself to continue with what he was doing, only returning to his room once he's clean, though he feels no better than when he first set out. There's no assuaging his misery now that he knows you're holed up in your own room just on the other side of the wall. Still here, but not his.

***

Tomura manages a few hours of fitful sleep, and then he lies awake, trying and failing not to keep thinking about you in the room next to his. He's been listening closely but he doesn't hear you stirring. You're holed up like a mouse, hiding and waiting and trying not to draw attention to yourself, as though that could possibly make up for what you're doing to him.

Sometime after dark he rises. He can't stand it anymore, laying here with his own interminable thoughts, and he's desperate to do something, anything to numb this endless suffering. Prior to the League's stranding in this rundown building, he would have left, gone somewhere to clear his head, but there's nowhere to go and he's too noticeable for that now anyway. So instead he goes down to the kitchen, rummages irritably through the sparse cabinets until he finds what he's looking for. It's probably Compress's - the label on the bottle suggests refined taste - but Tomura doesn't care. He twists the cap off with a sneer and takes a long draw, grimacing at the burn of the liquor as he swallows. He takes another drink. Another.

The etched glass bottle was half-full when he started, and it's empty by the time the others find him. Tomura's slumped on the floor by then, leaning against the wall surrounded by dust. It's mostly from debris that had already littered the hideout, but in one pile lies the remnants of his phone. He'd made the mistake of looking through old messages, pictures, and then when he couldn't stand to look anymore he hadn't been able to fight the urge to erase those memories completely.

As a general rule Tomura doesn't drink much, and he can tell by the others' faces that they don't know what to do with him, or this situation. Toga only stares with pursed lips while Jin clutches at his head in concern. It's Spinner who finally does something, who hesitantly hooks one of Tomura's arms over his scaly shoulder and hauls him to his unsteady feet.

"Come on, Shigaraki," he mumbles, "I think you've had enough."

Spinner tries to lead him to his room, but Tomura shrugs him off once they're in the hallway. He can see your door, still tightly shut, and that urge to decay is overwhelming.

"Go," Tomura orders, and Spinner shifts his weight uneasily.

"Boss, I really think you oughta-"

"I said leave me the fuck alone," Tomura growls through clenched teeth, swaying a little. Spinner still looks like he wants to object, but the purple-haired man thinks better of it. He gulps, nods. Goes back downstairs to join the others.

Tomura's eyes settle on your door once again.

***

It's the smell that awakens you first, something acrid and unfamiliar, and then you hear the clattering of rubble. You're still blinking sleep from your eyes when you feel the mattress beneath you dipping from an unexpected weight.

You struggle halfway up to a sitting position and then freeze when your vision clear enough for you to make out red eyes fixed intently on you. Tomura's clambered halfway onto your bed, one foot still planted firmly on the ground, the other knee sinking into the mattress near your hip, his hand braced against the wall by your head, effectively caging you in.

"What are you-" you start to stammer, but he interrupts you with a growl, leaning in until his face is less than a foot from your own.

"How long?"

"W-what?" His face is twisted and angry, his eyes wide and wild, and you feel an unfamiliar flicker of fear somewhere beneath your confusion.

"How long were you waiting to leave?" His breath is sour, reeks of booze, and it's then you realize he's drunk. You've never seen him drunk, not even buzzed. He always stops after one drink, uninterested in dulling his senses much, but now the smell of whisky is practically oozing from his pores.

"I- I wasn't, you told me to-"

"Don't lie to me," he snarls, and you suck in a sharp breath. You've heard that coldness in his tone before, but it was always reserved for his enemies, never for you. It's only made worse by the way his words slur slightly, and the general unpredictability of his intoxicated state; you're not sure what you're supposed to do here, how to deal. What he wants.

You think what you want, though, is for him to leave, to come back when he's sober, or maybe not at all. You lift one shaky hand to push at his chest, trying to create some space between the two of you, but all that happens is four fingers grip your wrist tightly, almost painfully so. You glance to his hand in surprise, your breath catching when you see his bare pinkie hovering shakily mere millimeters above your skin.

He used to wear gloves, insisted on it always, but apparently he's given that up now. He follows your worried gaze, his lip curling.

"You think I'd hurt you? You think I'd-" His sneer stretches into an unsettling smile, a scornful snicker escaping him as he tilts his head, leans closer so that your foreheads are almost touching. "I could never. I...." His eyes soften as they fix on yours, the rage on his face morphing into something else, something mournful and wanting, and for a moment you think he's going to kiss you. Do you want that? He was the who told you to go. You're so unhappy? Get the fuck out of here, then.

So you'd said you would. His red eyes had widened in some combination of fury and dismay, and you’d thought then that you’d called his bluff, that he’d stop you even as you were mumbling at him to have a nice life and retreating to your own room. But he’d let you go. Apparently he'd meant it.

And now you can't understand why he's here, or what he's trying to tell you as he continues mumbling under his breath, words too soft and slurred to make out.

"What?" you ask tremulously.

He repeats it, no louder this time, but the words are clear enough for you to hear what he's saying. "Take it back," he's mumbling. His face is close enough now that you can feel his breath hot against your lips, can practically taste the alcohol on his breath. "Take it back and we can..." His eyes dart to your mouth, and then he lets out a pained, strangled sound. His jaw clenches, the cords in his neck standing out.

It sounds almost as though he regrets telling you to leave, but you quash that suspicion, refuse to let yourself fall into the trap of thinking he still wants you when he's made it clear that's not the case. You can't read too much into this, not when he's not making sense, not when he probably won't even remember this tomorrow.

"You're drunk," you say, tugging your wrist gently from his grasp. He doesn't try to stop you, only sags a little, his head hanging, that curtain of pale hair falling in front of his flushed face. "You should go to bed."

His shoulders start to shake, sharp convulsions that have you thinking for one horrified second that he's crying, but then there's a low, bitter laughter spilling from his lips. "Yeah," he hisses, lurching to his feet. "I guess I should."

***

You try to forget about that late night visit, to dismiss it as the drunken ramblings of someone who has never been exactly stable, but despite your best efforts you can't stop thinking about his words, about what it was he'd meant. Take it back. Eventually, the not knowing is worse than the thought of facing him.

You'd been worried he wouldn't answer the door when you knocked, but he does. He looks god-awful - the circles under his eyes are darker than usual, his pallor sickly and his hair a tangled mess. The smell of stale booze no longer lingers on his breath though, so it seems he was already awake. That he's taking care of himself at least a little.

"What?" he snaps the moment his eyes fix on you, and the anxious knot that had been forming in your stomach only worsens.

"Tomu, can we-"

"Don't call me that," he spits through gritted teeth, and you falter. Nod.

"Sorry." Your voice is timid, his reprimand making your heart ache. "But Tomura, can we...can we talk? Please?"

"I don't have anything to say to you."

"It seemed like you were trying to say something last night."

Tomura grimaces. He knows he came to your room - the absence of your door would have made that obvious, if nothing else, but he also faintly recalls what happened, though not in any detail. His memory is nothing but flashes of your face unbearably close to his, and of you wearing a frightened expression that makes him feel sick.

"It won't happen again," he mutters.

"That's not..." You shake your head, trying to get your thoughts straight. You don't know what you really want from this, what you're trying to accomplish, other than that something in his eyes had made it seem as though he...as though maybe he didn't want you to go after all. "You were asking me to...to take it back." Your throat is tightening in spite of yourself, the last thing you want, but you can't help it. "What did you mean?"

His neck prickles and before Tomura can stop himself he's scratching, fingernails tearing at the thick scabs that have formed after digging too deep the night before. "It doesn't matter," he says. "You won't do it."

"Do what?"

"Stay!" He practically yells the word, warmth and wetness blooming at his fingertips as one of the scabs on his neck rips away, but he doesn't stop scratching. He hates you, in this moment. Hates you for making him say it.

"Tomura, you told me to go!" You can still hear his words ringing in your ears: Get the fuck out of here, then. Can still feel the sharp stab they'd sent through your chest too, a pain that had only worsened when he hadn't stopped you from following those instructions. A pain that has yet to fade in the slightest.

"Yeah, but you weren't supposed to-" he lets out a frustrated growl and then slumps, as though all the anger has suddenly drained from him "-you weren't supposed to listen."

"Oh." Your chest feels tight, the lump in your throat threatening to translate into tears at any moment as the weight of his words sinks in. Was it really all just a misunderstanding? "I...I thought you meant it."

"Like I said, it doesn't matter. You wanted to leave, right?" His voice is raw and tight. "You were just waiting for your chance."

"I wanted you to stop me."

Red eyes snap to yours. Tomura looks shell-shocked, frozen utterly still save for the bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallows hard. Once. Twice.

"Is it too late?" he whispers, choked words you can barely hear over the sound of your own pounding heart. The tears that have been pricking at your eyes finally overflow, forming wet tracks down your cheeks as you shake your head quickly. No, god no, it could never be too late, not for this. Not for him.

Tomura moves so fast that you're barely aware of the distance closing between you. One moment you're staring at him through eyes blurred with tears and the next he's upon you, cracked lips crashing against your own, long arms encircling you so tightly that you can barely breath.

"Stay. Please stay," he pleads, his words thick and feverish against your lips. You respond by tangling your hands in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate to reduce the space between you to nothing, to feel every contour of his body against yours. You're still nodding, your relieved whimpers the only real sounds you can muster through your constricted throat as you work your lips against his urgently. The kiss is salty from your tears, but neither of you care, parting your lips to lick into each others mouths.

"Tomu, I need you," you manage to implore, and you don't have to ask him twice. The arms around you tighten as Tomura drags you into his room, kicking the door closed behind you with a slam so loud the frame shakes. God, he can't get enough of you, the way you feel, the way you smell, all these things he thought he'd never get to experience again but here they are, overwhelming him in the best way possible.

Tomura wastes no time stripping of your clothes, tugging your shirt hastily over your head and then shoving you down onto the bed, five impatient fingers gripping the fabric of your pants until they turn to dust. There was a time you might have complained about your ruined clothing but now you don't care, would gladly watch him destroy everything around you just for the chance to feel him inside you again after these past few agonizing days. You yank his shirt off, letting your hands drift briefly over his pale, scarred chest before hooking your thumbs around the waistband of his sweats, working them down below the jut of his hipbones, just enough to free his straining erection.

You look so amazing spread naked beneath him, so fucking perfect that Tomura can't believe he almost let you slip away. It's not a mistake he'll make twice, he can promise himself that much. When your fingers wrap around his cock he groans, almost comes then and there from the burning relief your touch offers, but he composes himself. There's no way he's going to waste his orgasm by coming in your hand - no, he needs to save that release for when he's buried inside you, surrounded by your exquisite heat.

Tomura needs that now. He jabs two long fingers into your mouth, sucking in a sharp hiss of breath as you lave your tongue over them, and then he's withdrawing them just as quickly, shoving those spit-soaked fingers roughly into your eager hole. It's not enough of a warm-up he knows, not really, but he can barely wait and he knows you can take it.

And fuck, you certainly don't care, are bucking your hips greedily against his invasion, Tomura's name cascading from your lips over and over as he curls his fingers just right, the pads of his fingertips stroking at that tender spot deep inside. He scissors those digits, stretching you open briefly, and then he's removing them, spitting into his palm to make up for the hasty foreplay, smearing that wetness over his length along with the copious precum leaking from his tip.

You whine when he aligns himself with your entrance, practically quivering with the anticipation, the need. Your whole body feels flushed, as though you're boiling over with liquid heat, and you know you won't be sated until he's fucking you so hard you can't see straight, until you're blissfully unaware of anything but the feel of him inside you.

Tomura only hesitates long enough to enjoy the sight of you beneath him, trembling needily for him. Another eager whimper escapes you when he lifts one hand to catch your wrists and pin them above your head; Tomura likes this sight even better, you secured under him where you couldn't leave even if you wanted to, though your wide, shining eyes and squirming form make clear that's not something you desire. No, you want to be here with him, and that knowledge fills Tomura with indescribable relief.

His mouth finds yours again, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip, and then he's driving his hips forward, filling you in one rushed stroke, all the air forced from your lungs in one strangled cry as he fills you with his cock. Tears prick at your eyes again at the sensation, the headiness of the abrupt stretch and the fullness his length brings. That wetness spills over when he starts to move, his cock pounding in and out of you, his tip brushing against that tender bundle of nerves inside.

You feel so good Tomura knows he won't last, but he doesn't think you will either, not when you're crying with pleasure, a sheen of sweat already forming on your skin. He shifts his weight, the hand gripping your wrists holding you more firmly against the mattress, his other hand working its way between the two of you to stroke above your entrance, that extra stimulation sending your hole clenching around his cock.

"Fuck, you're so tight. You like that? Like me stuffing you full?" You nod, your inner walls fluttering, and Tomura swears under his breath. "This is what you want right? No one but me touching you? Me fucking you until you're molded to my cock?"

The tension coiling in his gut only worsens when you nod frantically, your hips rocking to meet each of his thrusts, your lips uttering a steady string of affirmations. "Yes, fuck, yes, Tomu, just you. Want you to fill me up forever, please please please."

Tomura kisses you harder, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, swallowing all your moans as his hand between your legs rubs faster against your sex. He's gasping against you every time he bottoms out inside, setting a punishing pace that has you hurtling towards your peak, and when he angles his hips just right, driving more firmly against that perfect spot each time he works in and out of you, those throbs of pleasure coalesce, that knot in your lower belly snapping violently, every muscle in your body going rigid as you convulse around his cock, riding out those pulsing waves with a long, desperate keen.

The feel of you coming beneath him is enough to send Tomura over the edge, his hip stuttering as he buries himself deep and comes so hard he's seeing white, his cock twitching as he floods your insides with hot spurts of cum. He continues to fuck you until he can't anymore, until he's softening inside you and his seed is dribbling out of your abused hole, and then he slumps over on top of you, his lips nuzzling against your ear and his hand finally releasing your wrists, fingers tracing soft lines up and down your sides instead.

A heavy weight has been lifted now that he has you here with him, that near-loss only driving home just how foolish he'd been. Tomura's not perfect by any means, but he is smart, smart enough never to repeat the same mistakes twice, and he already knows he'll do whatever it takes to not risk suffering this agony again. No, now that you've taken back your parting words he'll do anything to keep you close, anything to ensure that you stay with him for good.

Now that he has you again, he's never going to let you go.

[coffee-and-quill]

Birthday Wishes Pt. 2

Stucky x Reader: You have been feeling neglected lately, but Bucky and Steve promised they would be there for your birthday. When they don’t show up, you are left feeling broken, and they are left wondering how they will every make it up to you

Authors Note: It took a long time to figure out how I wanted to end this. Relationships are hard, they are constant work and give/take. It takes communication and understanding for all parties to feel heard and loved. I hope y’all enjoy, and please let me know if there’s anything else you would like to see from me!

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

It had been three weeks since Steve had seen you, talked to you, held you in his arms. Three weeks of radio silence, and it was killing him. He and Bucky had gone to your parent’s house the morning after they discovered you were missing. As if they weren’t feeling awful enough, the icy look your mother had given them so different from the warm, caring smile they were used to, sent shockwaves through their chests. Steve had begged to talk to you, but your mother had told them that you had left early that morning. You were going somewhere they couldn’t find you or bother you. When Bucky had tried to get more information, she had slammed the door in their faces.

              It took two more days of searching and desperation to figure out that Tony had helped you go completely off grid. “It’s not my place to tell you where she is, you shouldn’t have fucked up this bad,” the billionaire had told them when they tried to force your location out of him. He wasn’t wrong, and that set a heavy weight on their chests like nothing they had never felt before.

              Steve tried to go back to work, but every time he tried to buckle down and focus, or to accept a mission, he thought of your face. What if you wanted to talk to them? What if you came back and he was so caught up in his work again that he lost you for good? He might have already lost you, and the thought alone was enough to bring him to his knees gasping for breath. He felt small, smaller than he’d ever felt in his life. He would take being a sickly, scrawny kid in the 40s over these feelings any day. It got to the point where Fury told him to go home and not come back until his head was in the game again. “At this rate,” the director had grumbled, “You’re likely to get yourself or someone else seriously hurt if you continue as you are.” Steve didn’t argue. Instead, he slumped home, collapsed on the couch, and sobbed. Pain and heartbreak were the only things he knew anymore.

              Bucky was no better. After the acceptance that there was no finding you until you wanted to be found, the former assassin completely shut down. He barely ate and never slept anymore. How could he when there was the constant reminder that you were no longer in his life, no longer snuggled safely between Steve and him. The nightmares came back full force. He had almost forgotten what it was like to wake up screaming in a cold sweat. Now, instead of visuals of Hydra and the chair, and the blood and death that followed him like a storm, he had nightmare of you telling him you were done with him. You told him with a stone face that you’d never loved him, that you could never love a murderer, and you left with him begging and screaming on the floor. During the day he stayed in bed. He felt useless and weak, so, so weak. He was used to suffering, used to the constant weight of guilt on his chest. But this, this feeling, this guilt was far worse. People are constantly telling him that his actions as the Winter Soldier were not his fault, but this was all on him. There was no scapegoat, no evil organizations pulling the strings, no excuses, no one else to blame but himself. He was the reason you were gone, and it was destroying him.

 ()()()()()()()()()

                Three weeks, and you were feeling like absolute shit. You barely slept, ate only what you could unwrap in seconds, and you’re pretty sure you haven’t showered in at least a week. You couldn’t tell what day it was; time seemed to slip and slide together in a meaningless fuzz in your mind. Most days found you on the small couch of the cabin Tony had so graciously offered you, the TV on a low hum in the background playing some sort of celebrity reality program. Not that you really cared. Nothing really held your interest for long anyway. Your thoughts were stuck back in your apartment with your boys. You kept replaying the better times over and over, trying to figure out where you went wrong.

Back when you first got together, Steve and Bucky had been so sweet, so shy when bringing up the idea, so afraid that you would turn them away and they would lose the best thing that had happened to them since they were reunited. When you told them you wanted to give it a try, they had been ecstatic. Their excitement was infectious, buzzing around you like two overenergized puppies who had just been given the best treats of their lives. Those first few months had been blissful, none of you willing to be parted from the other longer than a day or so. You went on dates, ate crappy Chinese food together, snuggled up to each other on the cold nights.

You were crying again thinking about those times. You missed being with your boys more than ever, missed the connection and the feeling of safety and security. You missed the two people who knew you better than you could ever know yourself. You had been stuck on a loop for the past three weeks. Where did it go wrong? When did it happen and how did you not notice? Was it you? God, if you could only talk to them. You had so many questions, so many concerns. Mostly, however, you just wanted a hug. You just wanted to be held between your Stevie and your Bucky and you wanted to feel loved.

It had been around midday, after shoving down a lukewarm hot pocket, that you heard the front door of the cabin click open.

“Damn,” came the snarky voice of Tony Stark, “You look worse than I did after that one Easter party I threw.” Even through the fog in your brain, you couldn’t help but smile.

“That was your own fault, Stark,” you sassed, “Who the hell takes that many tequila shots at a brunch party?”

The billionaire scoffed. “Obviously you have no sense of danger, babe.” You flipped him the finger. “So,” he said, lifting your feet up so he could make himself comfortable on the cushy couch, “It’s obvious to me and to literally everyone else that something went on between you and the two super stooges back home. And by the way they have been moping around the tower and by the grease buildup in Barnes’ hair, they are fairing about as well as you.”

Your ears perked up at the information. You should feel satisfied that Steve and Bucky were feeling miserable for what they did. You should feel relieved that they are getting a taste of what they put you through. Instead, you just felt your heart sink into your stomach. No matter how angry you were at them, you could never stand the thought of them in pain.

“I’m not saying the two don’t deserve it,” Tony continued, “I’m just saying that if your going to make them suffer, at least do it in a way that you aren’t suffering as well.”

“I don’t want to make them suffer,” came you soft reply.

“No?”

“I was hurt.” The tears that had been gathering in your eye dripped down your face at your watery tone. “I was hurt, and angry, and I just felt like I had to run to escape those feelings, so I came here. But the longer I stayed, the less hurt and angry I felt. And then the sadness and loneliness came and I felt like I was drowning, and all I wanted was to be back with them. But I had already stayed away for so long. What if they don’t want me anymore? Or they think we can fix things? What if they realize they aren’t willing to try, Tony? I don’t think I could handle that.”

Tony scrubbed his hand over his face and let out a huge breath. “I can’t answer those questions for you, sweetheart. Lord knows if I could take the pain away, I would. But nothing is going to happen with you sitting here and refusing to talk to them.” You nodded, knowing that what he was saying was logical. You couldn’t solve anything by sitting around and moping, and lord knows you won’t solve anything by running away.

You took a deep breath “Ok. I’m ready to come home.”

“Good.” Tony stood up and adjusted his suit. “Because honestly, the boys have start loitering outside my lab looking like a couple of drowned kittens, and it’s depressing everyone.” He held out his hand for you, which you graciously took, standing and hissing out your cramped muscles. Tony took one step towards the door before stopping suddenly and turning back. “Maybe you should shower first. You stink like that casserole Clint tried to make for dinner that one time.”

Tony barely dodged the chipped mug thrown at his head.

 ()()()()()()()()()

                When you showed up to the apartment you shared with Bucky and Steve, your nerves had been on fire. Steve had opened the door looking he hadn’t slept since you had seen him last. His eyes widened and his arms twitched towards you instinctively, wanting to wrap you in in them and never let go. He held himself back, though it left a deep ache in his chest to do so. You wanted nothing more to go to him, to card you fingers through his hair and reassure him that everything was fine, that you were here and you would never leave again. You had to clutch the straps of your bag until your knuckles were white to stop yourself.

              “We need to talk.” Your voice was small, fragile. You wanted to run and hide all over again, but you knew this needed to be done. Steve nodded jerkily, widening the door to allow you to enter. Visually, everything looked the same; the couch was in the living room, blankets thrown haphazardly across the back, and the table sat in the kitchen with its three mismatched chairs and well-loved surface. However, as you moved further into the space, you noticed a staleness to the air that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t a home anymore, and the thought made you frown deeply.

              Steve closed the door softly behind you. “I’ll go get Bucky,” he murmured, and you shivered. God help you, you were so in love with these men. Even tired and beat down, Steve’s voice still had an effect on you. It reminded you of soft kisses over bare skin in the early morning hours before the rest of the world was awake, of tender love and honey sweet words spoken between breathy moans.

              You pushed the memory to the back of your mind as Steve reentered, Bucky following close behind. You felt your breath catch at his appearance. He looked broken. Dark circles fell under lightless eyes, the grief and despair that sat heavy on his shoulders was visible in the hunch he wore, as if he was being physically crushed by its weight. You could have honestly cried if it were a different situation.

              At the sight of you standing in the living room, he cracked a smile that looked almost painful. “Hey, Doll. I missed you,” he rasped. Hi voice was scratchy and rough from crying. Despite the somber tension that hung in the room like mist, you felt a sense of peace wash over you at the presence of your boys. Despite your nerves, despite your fears and reservations, you smiled at them. The tension melted from Bucky and Steve’s shoulders, and you knew everything would be okay. You could do this.

 ()()()()()()()()()

                The three of you spent hours talking. You told them everything: your fear of being left behind and forgotten, your frustrations with always feeling second place to the duties as avengers, the anger of that night and the emotions of the last three weeks. In turn, they shared their guilt and frustration at their own actions. They told you how they felt that being avengers was the only thing they could do to help people, it was the only thing they knew, and they had been scared to deviate from that routine, even when it had started pushing you away. They shared the fear they felt at finding you gone, and the terror and grief that had set in when they realized you might not come back and that was it for the three of you. Finally, they shared their confession that nothing they had done or would ever do as avengers would be more important than you. They wanted to change, to get better. They wanted to do it for you.

              What started as you sitting across from them quickly transitioned into the three of you cuddled together on the couch, seemingly one entity. Weeks of no contact had starved the boys of your touch, and they couldn’t remove themselves from you if they wanted to. Bucky lay across you legs with his head in your lap, his arms wrapped around your waist. You hand was tangled in his hair, massaging the base of his skull. Your other hand was gripped tightly in Steve’s as you leaned back into his broad chest. His blond head rested comfortably on your shoulder, turned inward to whisper his apologies into the exposed skin of your neck. Every once and a while he would leave a lingering kiss there, the skin tingling nonstop from the feel of his lips. You felt more relaxed than you had in weeks. That night you fell asleep in your bed, bracketed by the two most important people in your life. You would be okay.

[stellocchia]

This is part 4 of the Comprehensive Analysis of c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship during the Exile Arc

Part 1 -  Part 2 -  Part 3

We’re here once more just to suffer... though be fair I did decide to do this to myself, so I can’t really complain there...

As always under the cut we will be exclusively be talking about the characters unless stated otherwise and we will be talking about some serious topics, so keep that in mind

We’re starting this off with the infamous Beach Party stream: Tommy Is Left ALONE at his Exile Party with Dream

Now, quick introduction to this vod, since we find out about some details later on: no-one, aside from Dream, shows up because Dream destroyed the invitations and also Ghostbur won’t be around any longer because Dream sent him away (knowing fully well that that could have killed him since he already heard directly from Ghostbur that rain melted him). 

Basically at this point Dream is taking a step further into the manipulation process by not only making everyone else believe that Tommy didn’t want to see them but by also physically ensure they’d believe that. Also Tommy doesn’t start this one drowning either (perhaps because he was in high spirits the day prior?)

*creeper blows up* “Shit shit shit shit (...) I’m stupid I’m stupid I deserve that I deserve that. No no no no I didn’t I didn’t, today is gonna be a good day, today is gonna be a big day” (first response to anything negative has become taking on the blame, which we see later on with the Community House situation)

“Will Tubbo be there? Maybe! Myabe he will! Maybe he will!” (Tommy still very much missing his best friend)

“He [Tubbo] did boot me out... no no! you know what? I’m in the mood to reconcile!” (a big trait of Tommy’s has always been his loyalty to people, no matter how much they hurt him)

“It was definitely 8 pm GMT, 8 pm G-” *Dream joins the game* *Tommy pauses for a few moments on the Nether bridge completely still and then turns back* (I want to point out that the reaction any time Dream joined was one of absolute fear, for good reasons of course)

One thing that I’ve noticed is that Dream rarely comes from the Nether when visiting Tommy, opting instead for the objectively longer route through the water, which honestly seems to reinforce something he said early on, which was basically that even with the longer route it doesn’t take much effort to visit, and yet Dream is the only one willing to make that effort.

“Hello!” “H-hello?” “Hi!” “Hi ho-” “Where is everyone else?” “Oh... I don’t- I don’t know...” “I’m running a little late, I’m sorry” 

Considering that we know that Dream was in fact the one who sabotaged the invites, therefore meaning he knew fully well that nobody would be there, does the fact that he came late seem like he really wanted Tommy to stew in his own loneliness for a while to anyone else? You know, to properly break his spirit. Also Tommy immediately after this goes to take off his armour (Tommy Slippers included) and weapons, but this is the one time Dream lets him keep it (which, once again, he’ll use as a point against him later on). 

“Wilbur sent out the invites, didn’t he?” “Yeah, yeah no he sent them to everybody. He actually told Tubbo to his- like, he told him, he didn’t even need to give him an invite” “Really?!” “Yeah” (just want to point out that this is in fact not gaslighting, as some people seemed to think at the time, but it is still manipulation)

“I’m sure they said they’d be here by the day-” *watching the sun go down* “Time...” “I- I thought I was late so I’m surprised people aren’t here, but...” (turns out Dream was around 15 minutes late supposedly)

Tommy at this point takes out the cake, but he doesn’t eat any. I do think this is a good time to point out that the further we are into the exile the less we actually see Tommy eating (sometimes he straight up throws away any food he has in the inventory). He also sleeps less and less (or, at least, rests less, after all sleeping doesn’t necessarily mean being well rested afterwards) which we can deduce both from his comments on the subject and his rapidly deteriorating state. 

“Dream, no-one’s here” “I don’t know why... guess I’m most surprised Tubbo isn’t ‘cause he said he was gonna be, but-” (once again harping on to the retoric that Tubbo specifically willingly abandoned Tommy)

“I figured, I mean I figured you’d probably care the least if I was here so I just- I didn’t mind being a little bit late because everyone else would be here, but...” (once again the idea here is: “even if I was late I still came, no-one else did”)

“No-one cares about me anymore!” “That’s not true...” “No-one cares about me!” *Tommy takes his armour off again* “Tommy...” “No-one cares- no-one cares about me!” *Tommy destroys the rest of the cake* “No no no *sigh*” “No-one cares, do they? No-one showed up to my party... and it was the one thing, THE ONE THING they had to do for me after exiling me and fucking me over and not one of them came with me. And... none of them care about me anymore... ‘cause I’m not in L’manburg anymore, ‘cause I’m not with- ‘cause I’m not the vice-president”

Okay, that was a long quote, but 2 things I want to point out here: Tommy had about half of his health here, he refused to eat, take of his armour and marched towards the Nether, which is again him acting with no regard for his own self-preservation. And also there is a bit of Wilbur retoric sprinkled in there, with the whole “people only care about you when you have power” mentality. That’s exactly what Wilbur tried to convince him of in the Pogtopia era and it looks like he’s seeing a confirmation of this through the party. 

“If no-one is gonna put in any effort to come and see me, than I’ll make the effort harder to come and see me then, alright?” 

At this point Tommy has borrowed Dream’s netherite pickaxe and he proceeds to destroy a chunk of the bridge he’s made in the Nether, swapping it out for a one block wide wooden bridge. Of course, it goes without saying that he is not acting rationally, he is hurt and angry at the moment and he wants to convince himself that if others don’t care about him then he won’t care about them, which is why he starts lashing out more after this. And this is the result of Dream’s direct actions by the way.

“What is everyone saying about Tubbo’s compass? What is that? What is it? Explain to me” “I- uh I’m pretty sure that he burned it or something... or he lost it, something like that” “Wha...?” “He doesn’t have it anymore”

Tommy, up until now, didn’t even fully believed that Tubbo had a compass, but with the official confirmation of it being paired with Tubbo possibly willingly burn it, it’s the last straw for Tommy who decides to do the same. Though he doesn’t end up actually burning it, he does goes to take it out of the enderchest and bring it to the Nether. I do want to point out that Tubbo did not, in fact, either loose it or burn it willingly. It was blown up by accident in a creeper explosion.

*Tommy holding his compass over a sea of lava* “He burnt it? On purpose?” “I- I think so” “You know what, wou know what? Y- you know what?!” “Why don’t you- why don’t you sleep on it Tommy? Just wait don’t do anything, you know? Anything you can’t take back and then...” “I don’t sleep anymore Dream...”

Pretty sad scene... also a confirmation of what we said before about Tommy sleeping less and less. Also I’m not entirely sure why Dream was suddenly against Tommy burning the compass when he didn’t seem to be at the start, though it could be because Tommy was so obviously hesitant about it, so he probably wouldn’t have done it either way. Which means that it was a good moment to get friendship points. 

*Tommy standing in front of the portal in the main Nether hub* “I just want to go home... please can I go home...?” “Uhm, do you wanna see the Christmas tree for, like, 10 seconds?” “Can I stay?” “You can’t stay, but you can go look at it, I’ll let you out-” “Why can’t I stay?” “It’s not like they want you anyway Tommy” “wha...?” “Tommy, no-one showed up to your party and everyone was invited. Do you want to see the Christmas tree?” “I’ll just go back...”

This is the one single scene that is capable of making me emotional every single time. Just Tommy’s broken and small voice throughout it is something else... also Dream’s absolutely smug tone in all of it. But, the one thing, aside from the great acting, that I want to point out in all of this is how the reason for why Tommy can’t go back now has shifted from Dream killing him if he does to his old friends not wanting him around any longer. This way Dream gets to fully play the part of the magnanimous friend who still cares while everyone else is depicted as the enemy. Also I do find it interesting that in this scene Dream keeps insisting quite a bit for Tommy to go see the tree (in contrast to the first time where he refused for him to go back even for a few seconds), which almost looks like him testing how effective his conditioning was.

“That guy is gonna kill me, the little guy” *pointing at a baby piglin* “Oh” *Dream proceeds to get rid of it* (Tommy is by now basically dependent on Dream for his own safety)

“Do you need food?” “*sigh* No” (Tommy is literally on 3 hearts with 3 1/2 hunger bars and he is still refusing to eat)

They spend quite a bit of time after this by playing with Dream’s riptide trident and later also with the throwing one. Also Tommy changes his “girlfriend” hot girl for HOTTER girl (because I know you all deeply care for this kind of updates)

“I actually didn’t have a trident before and it took forever to come here, so I got a trident to come here quickly” “Oh thank you! You obviously care about me Dream” (Tommy feeling compelled to thank Dream for literally anything paired with Dream constantly showing off how much effort he is willing to put in)

“Let’s make a guest tent, let’s make a guest tent!” “That’s a... great idea” “In case any guest wanna- I mean maybe even- maybe you- we’ll make it here. It- it needs to be close to me because I’m- I’m really missing contact” (on top of everything else, Tommy was also canonically touch starved)

Dream and Tommy also make a guest tent together (and it’s implied a few times that maybe Dream will use it) before playing with tridents a bit more when it starts raining. Also Tommy builds a cobblestone smartphone were he keeps snapchat streaks with girls (this goes in the list of sentences I never thought I’d type). 

“Hey thanks for letting me keep my armour today” “You’re welcome” “It was nice of you” “I just thought it’d be good for the party and everything” “I’m sorry it wasn’t that much of a party in the end” “Eh, we make it a party together, so” “Yeah”

So, once more I want to point out a couple of things: there is no reason, aside from Dream’s conditioning, for Tommy to feel grateful that Dream didn’t take away his means to defend himself, nor is there any reason for Tommy to be the one apologizing for the party turning out the way it did. But also one other thing I want to point out is Dream’s insistence over them having fun together, which he keeps saying even later on during the prison visits. And I want to point that out because I do really think that Dream believes that or that he, at the very least, does try to convince himself of it. I’m still not entirely sure on that point, but, by now, I’m fairly sure that Dream really does believe that him and Tommy are his warped and toxic version of what “friends” would be...

“I should have died and then- and then I didn’t! I should have died...” (suicidal thoughts)

*Tommy reaching the maximum height with the trident* “I’m alone...” (just a very famous scene here, but also keeping to the theme of loneliness even when other people are around, in this case Dream)

“Just- just build a guest tent Dream! You’re probably gonna be the one who stays in the most so... since you’re my guest” 

*Dream standing inside the guest tent* “I’m in- I’m in my tent my tent” (the implications I mentioned before)

“Maybe I’m just gonna stay here, maybe I’m just gonna live here instead” (referring always to the guest tent and Logstedshire)

This all ends with Dream gifting Tommy the throwing trident (which he then puts in his enderchest) and Tommy also gains a zombie head from their mob hunting.

“Let me keep the other trident please” “What the one that you can throw?” “Yeah” “Okay Tommy, I’ll let you keep it” “Really?” “Yeah, as a gift, a beach party gift. You can remember our bonding experience from today” “Awww, thank you” (this is the conversation as a frame of reference)

“Listen Dream, what do we do now, then? If no-one is gonna come and visit me, what do I do?” “Nah, I’m visiting you!” (Dream really is convinced to me as much the center of Tommy’s universe as he is of his, huh?)

“Dream, as much as I’m feeling happy, I’m not. I’m not Dream. Where do we go from here?” “Uhm, I think that you will come around to liking it here, and you’ll build up your own ‘empire’ here, and you’ll be happy and maybe they’ll come and visit you- like you said! You said the thing about all, like, power right? You have no power and now they don’t visit you, maybe you’ll be- you’ll be back in power and then they’ll...” “I’ll always be exiled” “Yeah but that doesn’t mean you can’t become powerful, you can become powerful away from- away from them”

This is the closing conversation, that ends with Tommy entering the sea and disconnecting once he is on only one bubble of air left. Which, by the way, is a case of Tommy dissociating, which we know because he always later seems confused when logging in and finding himself in the water (meaning the confrontation with Jack at the hotel wasn’t the first case of him dissociating).

Also, while Dream is spewing all of this stuff about how “Tommy can still be powerful here” it’s obvious that that’s not the case. Tommy is not allowed armour or weapons and he is basically not allowed any allies (what with Dream sending Ghostbur away, intercepting Ranboo’s mail and making sure to keep away from Tommy as much as possible). Tommy is quite literally stuck in a position of powerlessness that he cannot escape from with someone who actually enjoys having him at his weakest.

I’ll leave it here for today, because this was literally one of the most intense streams so I had quite a lot to say and this became so damn long... I’ll probably condense the next two together.

[fayesdiary]

10, 17, 21

10) A character you find underrated?

I really like Valbar! He's a really wholesome man despite his initial motivation being revenge, is absolutely busted if you reclass him, is definitely the second dad of Celica's Pligrimage along with Saber and the implication he might have been the third lord alongside Alm and Celica in some early draft of Gaiden makes me really curious about what his role would have been👀

17) How did you get into Fire Emblem?

Ok, this is a long story.

While the first time I saw an FE character was Marth and Ike in SSBB, I didn't pay much attention to them.

My first actual experience with Fire Emblem was watching this italian Let's Play of Path of Radiance by Letal, back when I was in middle school, and boy I had a blast.

I became obsessed with the game, the story, the world of Tellius, the charcters (especially because the let's play gave characters funny comments while they were in battle and other small funny edits, like Makalov having this theme from Punch-Out Wii whenever he entered a fight because he gave him a Russian accent)

Needless to say, I wanted more.

So eventually I got a totally legit copy of Radiant Dawn and played it on my definitely not modified Wii, and while it took a long time to finish I was even more hooked.

Some really fond memories I have are losing my shit over how much the battle animations had improved, internally screaming when the Greil Mercenaries showed up and getting torn apart in the latter half of Part 3!

Don't remember much of what happened after, but eventually I wound up on the Fire Emblem subreddit, some time after Fates was released.

I wouldn't play the 3DS games until last year, but I still lurked on the place, looked at the fanart and listened at what people had to say.

...which most of the time in hindsight was constant nitpicking, arguing over which era of FE is the best, and of course, the "Fates bad" circlejerk that never really stopped but was at its peak in this era. (And while I kinda passively joined the circlejerk at the time, at the same time the game and the world couldn't stop grabbing my curiosity and I'd constantly read and see more about it)

I did play FE8 and FE7(i think?) during this period though. Didn't hook me as much as the Tellius games did, though. In general, my interest in the series was fading a bit.

But then, Heroes came out and I started playing it, and that rekindled my love for the series, not to mention introduce me to a lot of characters I had no idea they existed! (and yes, I was on the FEH subreddit too, but 99% lurking)

It sparked my curiosity enough to even get me to play FE4, especially since it was one of the games most praised by the community!

Oh, and then a certain game came out on the 3DS. I actually wound up playing it some months after it released because my friend let me borrow her 3DS, and it became my biggest FE obsession surpassing even Tellius!

The game's title, of course, was Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, and it's still my favorite FE game and one of my favorite games in general.

Eventually I'd quit Heroes forever, at first because I needed the time to prepare for my high school finals and that game was really starting to take too much of it and then permanently when I realized just how little fun the game was getting for me.

Likewise, I ended up quitting the FE subreddits too. At first it was just because Three Houses was coming out and I didn't want to get spoiled, but then eventually that too became a permanent leave, mostly because as I said before, the main FE subreddit was getting a bit too obnoxious for my taste and I hadn't played FEH in a long time.

Heck, eventually I wound up deleting my Reddit account outright because I realized I was going there just to deliberately get angry to avoid getting bored.

And then... there are the last few years.

While I already was on Tumblr for a few years on my main blog (again, passively), was following a few FE blogs and even contributed to one of them by writing some supports... one day, I had the idea for this blog. And eventually, I decided to go for it and it became a thing.

Originally it was just meant to be a place where I discussed FE and posted my theories, analysis and writings, but then it turned into.. whatever this is😅 Don't regret a thing, though. This is the best place I made for myself as an online community in general, let alone FE! It's like my own well-decorated corner of a wall!

In this past year, now that I had a 3DS I totally didn't modify as well, I finally played Awakening and Fates for myself!

...And Shadow Dragon too, I guess.

I still have a lot of games left I want to play (and that's just from the mainline series, don't even get me started on the Kaga emblemlikes, hacks or other fangames), so this story is far from over!

21) Any rarepairs/crack ships you have?

The main two involve Faye, and are Faye/Celica and Faye/Rinea!

I love both pairings a very normal amount *lying* Even wrote a fic for the latter!

[naomana]

I'm getting more young leo and frank brainrot (I don't know if we ever did get more insight into their backstory but): I like to think they met as kids and leo's line to vito: "but I figured joe there is your best friend.. you guys grew up together, just like me and frank.." just made my brainrot sky rocket. I'm obsessed with frank seeing leo around at school during their early teens and with leo being a bare-knuckle boxer later on in his life, I wonder if he got into a scuffle every now and then with another kid during break. frank started picking up on it, started worrying about it: "I admire his bravery but holy fuck he's going to get himself killed-" and I imagine, like joe, frank would have his own petty local gang and he wouldn't mind having this wound up angry amoeba on his side. although I do like to think that even though he was quite untrained and messy in a fight then, leo was still brutal - he just became a lot more graceful later on in his life when he became a young adult and was stronger.

I may be in love with this picture of leo in my head: a young leo in a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders and slacks, some nice shiny brogues. he always looks so closed off and quiet, but he eventually warms up to frank and joins his gang and starts getting real good at fighting as they get older. they both start maturing and leo slowly develops into what he's like when he's older. I mean he would've even then, as a child had those traits he had when we see him in game. frank would suggest something wild and seventeen year old leo would and will complain frank's ears off, even at this age playing the role of a consigliere - trying to fool proof every idea frank has without intentionally meaning to, he's just a whiny bitch lmao.

I love thisbdjdj stop grtting me more hooked on these two idiots djdj

I can imagine Leo getting constantly hit on by anybody, with his looks (blonde hair and blue eyes?!) and if it's a guy, he's really flustered but has to keep his name clear ya know

[janetbrown711]

Please write the part about Wakko you know what

Important note: This fic is part of my Angelina the First lives au, and as such is part of a different universe/storyline and plot than the rest of my fics. To read about the au/alternate timeline, click here.

Yakko loved studying. He loved learning, and growing, and obtaining more knowledge and skills in any way he could. His dad said he got it from his mother, though his grandma said her mother was a lot more “foolish with her knowledge” than he was, whatever that meant. 

In truth, Yakko had known his grandmother his whole life, and he still didn’t know what to make of her. Sure, his mom and dad constantly contradicted her or told him she was wrong, but Yakko wasn’t sure. A lot of what his grandmother said made sense, as far as he could tell. A good king should be focused on expanding his knowledge and on his people, not on frivolities like playing with toys or with his little brother. It just made sense. 

Speaking of his brother... 

“Yakko! Which is cooler? Red or blue?” Wakko shoved his toy soldier’s into his brother’s face. Yakko rolled his eyes. 

“Wakko, I don’t care,” He scoffed. Wakko frowned. 

“But how will you play then?” Wakko asked. 

“Wakko, I don’t want to play, I have my lesson with Grandma soon,” Yakko said, turning the page in his book. 

“So we should play nowwww,” Wakko whined, placing the toys on his book. 

“Wakko, go away, I’m studying” Yakko huffed in annoyance, pushing the toys off of the book. Wakko sighed, taking back his toys, but instead of going away, he pulled out a chair and sat next to his brother. 

“Whatcha readin’?” He asked. 

“I’m reading about the history of agriculture in Warnerstock,” Yakko stated, figuring there was no harm in telling him, and that maybe it might make him go away. 

“Is it good?” Wakko asked with a head tilt. Yakko paused to think. 

“Ehhhhh.... it’s.... okay?” He shrugged, though he knew the answer was no. It was boring, but one of his tutors assigned it, so he had to read it. Yakko then went on with his reading. However, it wasn’t long before Wakko got bored just sitting there, so he stood on the chair, and peered over Yakko’s shoulder. Yakko did his best to ignore it, but, quite frankly, his brother was driving him insane. 

“Oh, would you look at that! I have to go,” Yakko slammed the book shut and stood, almost knocking over Wakko in the process. 

“Can I come?” Wakko asked optimistically. Yakko rubbed his forehead. No matter what he did he just couldn’t shake him. 

“You know Grandma doesn’t like it when you sit in,” Yakko said, standing up and heading out of the study. Wakko followed anyway.

“I can be good this time! Promise!” He said. Yakko shook his head. 

“Go to your room, Wak, I’m sure mom or dad would love to play instead,” Yakko waved him off. 

“Pretty please? I swear I’ll be quiet,” Wakko pleaded. Yakko did his best to keep his eyes forward, but made the fatal flaw of making split-second eye contact with his younger brother, and saw the puppy dog eyes nobody with a soul could refuse. 

“Fine,” Yakko sighed. “Just... sit in the corner and be sure to be extra, extra quiet,” He said. Wakko cheered and ran ahead of Yakko in his excitement to their grandmother’s private study. Yakko eventually made it, and knocked on the door. 

“Yakko, you’re early today,” Angelina the First opened the door. Immediately her eyes went to Wakko. 

“What is he doing here?” She asked. Wakko stepped behind his brother. 

“He just wants to sit in the corner. He’s promised me he’ll be quiet,” Yakko said. 

“Is this true?” The old queen looked at her youngest grandson. Wakko nodded. She rolled her eyes. 

“If I ask you a question, you are to respond, understood?” She glared at him. Wakko gulped. 

“Y-yes, grandma,” He said. The queen rolled her eyes and stepped aside, letting the brothers enter. 

Yakko took his seat at the center table, and Wakko sat in the corner, next to a bunch of dusty books that hadn’t been touched in goodness knew how long. Hopefully, that would keep him quiet and entertained. 

“Now where were we... ah yes, etiquette,” Angelina the First found the book she was looking for and opened it. 

“A good gentlemen always holds the door open for a lady, why is this?” She asked Yakko. 

“Because their dresses can be too big for them to get it themselves,” Yakko said. The queen nodded. 

“That stupid, why don’t they just fix the dresses?” Wakko mumbled in the corner. 

“Excuse me?” The queen looked at him. Wakko immediately shut up, and faced the bookshelf, running his finger across all the spines. She huffed but decided to move on with the lesson anyway. 

Angelina the First continued to quiz Yakko on his knowledge of etiquette, and of which he aced, and to Yakko’s surprise Wakko was actually behaving himself back there.  She then regaled tales of Warnerstocks history, most of it being boring but a few were... less boring here and there. Yakko did his best to pay attention anyway. History was arguably the most bearable of the subjects, though he preferred when it was about geography more.  

However, towards the end of the lesson, the queen started lecturing about her grandfather, King Reginald the 2nd, and how he failed due to his love of frivolous things, such as gold, jewels, and never bothered to do his work as king, playing around with his “playthings” all day instead.

“And that is why as you prepare to become king it is important to put your studies and learning above all else. A wise king is a good king. You don’t want all of your knowledge to be based on what toy you think is the best, do you?” She said, as some sort of joke.

“That’s stupid too!” Wakko crossed his arms. 

“Excuse me, young man, you have no right to talk to me like that,” Angelina the First stood from her chair. 

“Grandma, he doesn’t know-”

“No! I do! That’s stupid!” Wakko stood on his chair. “Yakko should play games if he wants to. Games are fun. Books are boring.”

“Wakkorotti Alan Warner, know your place,” She warned. 

“Games are fun, you and your lessons are stupid and boring!” He shouted. Angelina’s eyes widened in anger. Slowly, she took her gloves off, before walking over to the now petrified Wakko. 

“Grandma he didn’t mean-” Yakko tried to plead. 

“I’ll give you one more chance, Wakkorotti. What. Did. You. Say?” She asked, now standing in front of the four-year-old. 

“Th-that... that your lessons are boring and stupid,” Wakko didn’t back down. Before either brother knew what was happening, she struck him across the face with the back of her hand. Wakko fell onto the floor with a loud crash. 

“Wakko!” Yakko jumped out of his seat and ran to his little brother, but Angelina I held out her arm. 

“Leave him there, he needs to learn, She said coldly. Yakko growled and bit her. 

“Ow! You horrible, horrible child!” Angelina jumped back. Yakko didn’t care, going to Wakko. 

“Wakko? Are you okay?” He asked, panicking because Wakko was barely conscious. 

“M’head hurts,” he mumbled, sitting up. That was kinda good at least... 

“You’ll be punished for this,” Angelina grabbed Yakko’s shoulder and Yakko gnashed his teeth again. The queen wisely stepped back.  

“C’mon Wak, let’s get you fixed up,” Yakko said, helping him up. 

“Rabid sons of a bastard,” The old queen muttered as they walked by, rubbing the bite marks that were on the verge of bleeding. It was far less than she deserved, so Yakko glared at her once more before leaving. 

The brothers walked in silence as they headed off to the kitchen for ice, not knowing what to say about what had happened. Eventually, though, Wakko gave it a shot. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your lesson, Yakko,” He apologized. 

Yakko sighed. “It’s not your fault Wakko, she never should’ve hit you.”

“Grandma is a meanie,” He sniffled, rubbing his fresh bruise. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Yakko said and meant it. 

In truth, as they were walking Yakko noticed how much of a jerk he was before. He brushed him off and for what? Stuffy lessons with a snappy old lady? Now he knew why his parents always contradicted her. They probably trying to prevent something like this from ever happening. 

“I’m sorry too, Wak,” He said. “I’ve been a meanie to you too.”

“S’okay. I forgive you,” Wakko smiled at Yakko, and Yakko cringed at the sight of his bruise, which was only increasing in size. Thankfully, they were almost at the kitchen by now. 

After a short moment of silence, they eventually reached it and Yakko slowly opened the door before peering inside, and upon finding it empty, he opened the door all the way and him and Wakko got in and went towards the back where the freezer was. 

“Yakko? Wakko? What are you two doing here?” Yakko froze when he heard his mother’s voice. He internally facepalmed, realizing he forgot the spice racks blocked the view of the other half of the kitchen from the door.  

“Mummy!” Wakko ran to her and she and William gasped. 

“Wakko, what happened to your face?” She asked as he hugged her leg. 

“Grandmummy got mad and-”

“Grandma did this to you?!” Lena asked, a mix of concern and rage in her voice. 

“Lena...” William warned, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. Lena took in a deep breath. 

“What happened?” William asked Yakko. 

“Well Wakko wanted to sit in during my lesson with her, and he said her lesson was stupid and she got mad...” Yakko kicked the ground. 

“Oh, I’ll kill her,” Angelina growled, looking at the door. 

“Lena, deep breaths,” William reminded, though he looked angry too. Their mother obeyed, though still obviously very upset. 

“I’m so sorry Wakko, dearest. Here- let’s get some ice on that bruise,” She said, with a soft smile, taking Wakko’s hand and taking him to the back. 

“Is that the full story?” William asked. Yakko nodded. 

“He said it was stupid grandma thought that good princes and kings don’t play with toys or have fun,” Yakko said. 

“Your grandmother is wrong about that, and a great number of things,” William sighed. Yakko nodded. 

“...I bit her,” he whispered. William blinked. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He asked, not quite sure if he heard it right. 

“I bit her, after she hit Wakko and he fell, I bit her, right in the arm,” Yakko confessed. 

William thought about that for a moment. 

“Everything alright?” Lena asked, reentering with Wakko, who now had a bag of ice in his hand. 

“Yakko bit your mother,” William explained and Lena gasped. 

“Are you alright?” She asked him. Yakko nodded. 

“A-after she hit Wakko I wanted to check on him but she wouldn’t let me so I bit her,” He explained. Lena sighed a breath of relief. 

“That’s good dear... just... never do that again. The last thing either of us wants is for either of you two to get hurt, understood?” She asked. The boys nodded.

“Good,” she bent down and gave both of them a tight hug. “Now go play. Your father and I will have to have a long discussion with your grandmother later,” She said, looking back at William.  

“Yay! Let’s go!” Wakko pulled on his brother’s arm, dragging him out of the kitchen.

“See, why didn’t I ever think of doing that?” was the last thing he heard his mother mutter to herself before getting dragged out. 

Eventually, they made it back to the playroom, and Wakko immediately grabbed his toys and began playing with them, while Yakko bit his lip, unsure of what to do. It felt like forever since he played with dolls and toy soldiers, did he even know how to? Did Wakko even want him to play anymore? 

Wakko seemed hesitant too, as when he noticed his brother’s awkward standing, he stopped and looked at him. 

“Do you... wanna play with me?” He asked. Yakko nodded. 

“I do,” he said. Wakko smiled and handed him a prince doll. 

And so, for the rest of the afternoon, the two brothers played game after game, weaving intricate stories all of their own with brave princes, dragons, daring fights, and evil queens they slew together, always having each other’s back no matter what. 

And it was true, from that moment on, Yakko swore to always have his brother’s back, and more importantly, to never become what his grandmother wanted of him. She could rot for all he cared, he’d never let anyone hurt his little sib ever again,

That, he promised. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

[hihigherdi]

I don’t hate a lot of things but I truly hate the cutesy way Tumblr communicates to its users. It is so condescending and disrespectful - its forced whimsy and I hate forced whimsy about as much as I hate “forced fun” at showers, parties and camp. 

I sat in the sun today for a few hours after watering and an early trip to Corte Madera to look at some patio furniture and now my face is on fire. I came home early and started working on a big presentation which was good, as my boss asked for it tonight and we review it in the morning. I also am prepping for my conversation with J. I am going to stay super positive because the changes -  while hard emotionally for him - are great for his career. 

I texted my brother Happy Father’s Day and then again to my niece’s husband who is so wonderful. I spoke to my dad and all he did was obsess on his living options and where was he going to go and what about mom - he is in some cognitive dementia loop, he’s confused and can’t track. I about snapped at him and just breathed deeply through the whole thing. He then proceeded to call me four more times. And then my sister texted, asking if I’d spoken to him (she clearly didn’t, I asked if she tried and she didn’t respond). She went on and on about how she’s so jealous of her ex’s new wife and her new restaurant he financed, and all of his kids went to brunch at their house and honestly, it sounded lovely. She’s so bitter and in a loop of her own; she said “God I need to heal from this” to which I replied yes, if you don’t it’s going to rob you of the life you have left. 

I’m over it. I’m sitting here working after dealing with a father you can’t bother to call because you are so focused on yourself. Breathe Breathe Breathe. 

*********

When I was little - maybe 10 - I remember my dad pulling my sister hard out of her room. I remember him making some gross comment about  her breasts in a picture saying she could be in Playboy and feeling sick. He was constantly drunk, on a boat out in the Puget Sound, he was so drunk that he couldn’t get the boat motor to turn on and we were drifting into the Alaska Shipping Line.  I remember a massive container ship and how loud the booming horns where, how high the waves were. We barely missed it. His dad - whose dad before him threw acid on his face when he was angry - called him stupid as a nickname when he was little and beat him severely. 

My dad heard him suffocating on his own bile/phlegm (he was ill) one night when they were all asleep, and did nothing. He let him die. 

He was traumatized by nuns in Catholic school. He was going to law school when he met my mom but flunked out because he had such anxiety over tests. My mom who was so obsessed with high society ended up marrying a printing salesman who eventually got fired for something - maybe an affair with his secretary, my mom said there were several - and started his own printing company. My mom had to go to work as a delivery driver and she never forgave him. They found a piece of property and bought it and built a big house they dreamed of that addressed their own lack of self and desperate need to “be something”, but that they couldn’t afford, and embezzled money from the company to survive. 

My first memory of my dad was sobbing because he didn’t want to do this father-daughter thing called “Indian Princesses” with me. He did it with my sister and we went a few times, but my mom had to break the news to me that he didn’t want to go. I sobbed on the couch, so confused. In grade school I was this crazy great athlete - he would get so frustrated if I asked him to give me a ride anywhere and once he had to stay with me during a volleyball game. I looked up and he was reading a book. He and I would go to dinner sometimes when I was little but I think I was just a person who could sit with him while he drank. He was a functional alcoholic, never drank at work but at nights and on weekends. He was terrifying and menacing - he beat us with a belt (though I have no recollection of it) and his footsteps coming down the hall were so terrifying, I’d hide in my closet or pretend I was asleep. He got drunk and said some truthful but honest things to my moms family, causing her fragile and essential connection to her sister to snap. I remember swimming on his back when I was little, little, little. That is my only memory of engaging him positively.

One spring, my sister got a husky puppy and then had to go work in Alaska that summer - he didn't like the puppy so he just dropped it off in a neighborhood with a bunch of kids when she was gone. Her name was Kiska. When he came home and told us what he’d done, I got the courage up in my 9-year old body and went on to the deck where he was drinking and told him how horrible of a thing it was that he’d done. He said “well you can go to hell.” and he meant it, I felt it. 

After some kind incident with my mom where she’d be sobbing in a locked room somewhere, my brother and I would always pump each other up and one of us would go in and scream at him. We were terrified but my God, we were so fucking brave. He’d come watch us play tennis sometimes though I never expected it; he’d drive away quickly if we lost. He got so drunk that he fell asleep on the freeway and got a few DUIs - forced into treatment, I remember hugging him when he got back, aware of how performative it was. Sobriety did not last long. 

Through high school, I had to get a ride with him every morning. It wasn’t that we didn’t talk - I wasn't there. We did not say one word - he was so focused on what was in his mind, I didn’t exist. He didn’t ask me one question about myself in those car rides - ever. That’s when I would be so focused on other men driving, noticing me. The worst part is when he’d drop me off, he’d say “give me a kiss”. and I had to. I cannot express how much I hated it, a block away I’d have the door partially open so I could pretend I didn’t hear him. Sometimes I’ve wondered if that was a form of sexual abuse. 

The worst part of it was the power that he had. We’d be watching MASH at dinner and he’d come in and say curtly “I want to watch the news”. He’d not ask - we had no power to stop it. And then he’d kick us out of the family room because he wanted to watch porn. He was gross and the rage sat in my throat, unspoken. Years later, a therapist asked me about my dad and my throat froze up. It’s all so dark and deep and unspoken. My throat hurts just writing this. 

When my sister and brother left the house, things got really bad. Their business tanked and they were desperate. I basically did not exist to them, I made myself small and invisible. One particular weekend, my mom was screaming she was going to kill herself and needed to see a doctor, her migraine was so bad, and I ran into my dad’s den - where he was constantly - and told him we had to take her to the hospital. He got so angry and when he came into her room she said “oh no, please don’t let her take me to the hospital!” I think I kind blacked out in my room. 

He ceased to exist in college - I don’t think I ever spoke to him once. He didn’t reach out once, thoroughly involved in himself. My mom took a pilgrimage to Medjugorje and did experience some healing (thank you Mary), and he went back with her. They took a suitcase of mine where I had accidentally left a book called Blessed Be the Addicts. They thought I had added it on purpose which was the first moment we started this fake dance of me caring for him.

When in church, he listened to a homeless man behind him singing and after Mass, told him how beautiful of a singing voice he had. 

He loved our dog Sandy and when she died, my brother had to take him to the vet and put him to sleep. My dad cried for days in bed.  My poor brother. My broken dad. 

He lost half of their retirement in shorting the market. He got glaucoma but didn’t treat it. I spent a good deal of my childhood and adulthood as my mother’s advocate, hating him for making her life so empty and miserable. One day I came home to them playing basketball in the pool and my immediate reaction was how she had betrayed me. 

He wants to reconcile with his younger brother, they are estranged, but ends up screaming at him. His older brother killed himself. 

He had moments of real kindness and compassion. He also is incapable of deceit and what you see is absolutely what you get. 

And the rest is the rest. It’s what I do now. 

Happy Father’s Day to all of the men who I’d watch so longingly with their daughters - to my friend Gina P’s dad who held her hand as we looked for restaurants for our Tolo dates, he drove us all around to pick the best one, and held her hand as they walked. I stared at them walking hand in hand, confused and shocked, longing for something I didn’t even understand, freaked out he was actually driving us around. Happy Father’s Day to Mindy M’s dad, who came down to the living room where we were, sat on the sofa and massaged her feet asking how her relationship with God was. The kindness. I would be such a quiet observer in these families, knowing I was betraying mine by wanting what they had so I could never linger long. Happy Father’s Day to the youth group counselor who at one point as I sobbed, put my head on his lap and just stroked my hair while saying “You are profoundly OK”.  Happy Father’s Day to my brother whose opinion means so much to me. 

I remember a vivid dream I had when I was in college. That I was sitting in the den with my entire family, leading them through the last years of my parents’ lives. Calmly, rationally. I was so shocked by it but that was a premonition that’s come true. And, there are oceans of grief and rage. 

There won’t be any men, as the ones I choose are so terrible and hurt me so badly. I can’t love them, I only know how to need them, and water seeks its own level. There won’t be sex, as it makes me so anxious, I physically can’t do it, my vaginal walls contract. It’s not fixable. And it’s OK. 

There will be only relief when he is gone. Some sadness. And, peace knowing that I was a decent human being in the end and the hope that I am breaking at least some of these generational bonds.