#i know a few people have done this but i want to do this again

[thoughtfulfiction]

Operation: Den Prep

Author’s note: I feel like Joe is very dramatic about things he can’t control and impending parenthood is definitely chaotic. Hope you enjoy this fluffy piece!

All you wanted to do was take a nap. You weren't asking for much. Just an hour, maybe an hour and a half of uninterrupted sleep.

But no. That would be too easy.

The cars that lined the driveway couldn't be a sign of anything good. Joe wasn't really one to throw parties, and with exactly four weeks before the baby's due date he wasn't exactly the most chill or relaxed man in America. If anything, the cars were a sign that you wouldn't be getting that nap in any time soon.

A gigantic sigh leaves your body when you walk in the door. There are people—strangers— in your home, scrubbing every square inch of the place.

"Joe?" You call out, attempting to scoot past the people dusting the vents.

"He's upstairs in his office," a woman responds kindly, in the midst of scrubbing baseboards. Your friend Nikki, who was with you all day, stares at everyone in shock before helping you up the stairs.

You caught your breath a little while running your hand over your baby bump, feeling like you climbed Everest. Nikki knocks on the door and waits for Joe's voice, telling you two to come in. Your husband was seated at his desk, highlighting sections of The Expectant Father: The Ultimate Guide for Dads-to-Be, surrounded by several other parenting books.

"Joseph..." Nikki begins since you still can't breathe. “What the hell is going on here?"

"Language," Joe says without looking up from his book, "he can hear you."

Nikki turns to look at you and you shake your head, not wanting to get in the middle of it right now. Your eyes were telling her to just focus on one problem at a time, the biggest issue at hand being the cleaning crew taking over the house. She seems to agree. "Okay, let me try that again," he nods, finally looking up, a disinterested look on his face. “Don't know if you know this but, there are people downstairs treating your home like it's a warzone on germs."

"I know. I hired them to do exactly that. Because it is." He says in a matter of fact tone. “I want everything to be perfect when the baby comes home. The house needs to be as clean as possible so he has a safe environment.”

“Joe, this isn’t prepping for the end of days. You realize babies don’t come out demanding hospital-grade cleanliness, right?” Nikki jokes, leaning against the doorframe.

Joe doesn't find it funny. “Do you even know how many germs are in the average house? I read it’s millions. Millions, Nicole. I’m not risking it.”

You sigh, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He was adorable when he got like this—focused, determined, and completely over the top. It was endearing, but you could already tell you'd have to reel him in before he booked a hazmat team to inspect the nursery. “Joe, I appreciate what you’re doing. I really do. But we’re supposed to be relaxing these last few weeks, not running ourselves into the ground.”

“You’re the one who should be relaxing,” Joe said, standing and gently guiding you to sit in his chair. “You’re growing a human being. That’s a full-time job. I can handle everything else.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Joe, I don’t need you to handle everything. We’re a team, remember? And besides, I don’t want you burning yourself out before he even gets here.”

“I’m fine,” Joe insisted, his tone firm but caring. "I promise. I just...want everything to be right for him. He’s going to depend on us for everything, you know?”

Nikki sat down on the couch in the corner of the office, still grinning. “I’m not gonna lie, this is kind of impressive. Most dads just install the car seat and call it a day. But you? You’re basically turning this place into a baby-friendly, germ-free utopia."

Joe shot her a look but didn’t argue as you let out a yawn. "Are you tired?" He rushes out, "they should be done in our room, you can go take a nap if you need it. I was serious about you getting some rest."

"And so was I about you getting some rest. We won't be sleeping as much when he gets here so getting a head start on sleepless nights isn't the wisest business decision."

"Okay," Joe folds the corner of the page that he's on and stands up, kissing you on the side of the head. "What if...we kick Nikki and the cleaners out and we go take a nap?"

"Um hello?" Nikki waves her hand in the air, "still here, in the room, with both of you. I can hear everything you're saying."

Joe doesn’t bother acknowledging her, his eyes focused on you as you nod with a laugh. “I love you, Nik, but he’s right. I need to lie down before I collapse.”

Nikki smirks, standing and brushing imaginary dust off her jeans. “You’re so lucky you’re carrying my baby, Y/N. Go take your little nap, I’ll see myself out.” She pokes Joe in the chest as she passes. “Joe, co-parenting with you is going to suck, but I gotta admit—you’re going to be a killer dad. You just don’t need to stress yourself into a heart attack to prove it.”

Joe rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. "For the last time, it's OUR baby. Not yours. There is no co-parenting."

"Sure," Nikki smiles, patting him on the back, "sure buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night. By the way, good luck kicking out the cleaners. I'm pretty sure one of them is power-washing your oven.”

She’s gone before Joe can reply, leaving you shaking with laughter as he mutters, “I’m changing the locks tomorrow.”

When you woke up from your nap, Joe was gone. You found him downstairs, scrolling through the notes on his iPad, intense focus that you'd really only seen when he was going over film. It was heartwarming to see that he was taking impending fatherhood as seriously as he took his job. In a way, being a dad was like taking on another job. With endless hours, no days off and no pay. But the rewards? They were going to be worth everything.

Sinking into the spot next to him, you leaned your head against his shoulder. “What are you up to?”

"Going over the checklist," he replied, his hand automatically resting on your belly, absentmindedly tracing small circles with his thumb. "We've got a bunch of deliveries coming tomorrow to get the nursery done which will probably take a couple days. Then we need to start getting the fridge stocked and pack our hospital bags. I was also thinking we do a trial run to the birth center."

"A trial run? Why?"

“I need to time it,” he said, his fingers still drumming softly against your bump. “Traffic could be bad, you’ll be in pain, and I’d rather not have to deliver a baby in the car. I mean, I can learn how to, but I’d rather not.”

You couldn’t help but smile as his focus shifted momentarily, his hand now lightly tapping your belly like he was sending a secret code. “Joe, we’ll be fine. We’ll get there when we get there. Not everything is gonna go to plan so let’s not waste time but trying to plan out every detail.”

“I hear you and I get what you’re saying but I’d rather be overprepared than caught off guard,” he muttered, flipping to a new note with his free hand. His other stayed firmly planted on your stomach, as though he could steady the world by keeping a connection to the little life inside. “Oh, and dinner with our parents tomorrow…that’s going to be something.”

"Be nice. They mean well," you reminded him, nudging his arm.

“Sure, but last week my dad said something about bourbon on baby gums helping with teething. I had to pretend to choke so I wouldn’t laugh in his face,” Joe said with a soft laugh of his own. Then, without thinking, he leaned down and whispered against your belly, “Just ignore your grandpa, buddy. We’ll do teething the right way.”

Your heart swelled at the gesture, and you reached out to thread your fingers through his hair. “Joe, you’re already such a good dad, you know that?”

His eyes softened as he looked up at you, his hand still cradling your bump. “I just want to get it right, for him… and for you.”

"You will. And you know how I know?" He shakes his head, his eyes locked in on you, searching for your answer. "Because once you put your mind to something, you don't let anything or anyone stop you."

For a moment, he’s quiet, his gaze softening before he speaks. “You’re gonna be a great mom, you know that?” He reiterates your words, his voice is barely above a whisper as he leans in, sneaking a kiss.

Your laugh is light, but your heart swells as he places his lips on yours one more time. “Kid’s pretty lucky,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours as he pulls back. “And he doesn’t even know it yet.”

The rest of the evening is spent ironing out some minor details of Joe's fool proof baby plans.

Your husband is not the handiest person in the world. He's more of a "I'll hire someone who's more qualified" kind of guy. Exhibit A? Full time chef so he doesn't have to cook. Exhibit B? Full time cleaning staff. To be honest, he probably doesn't know how to change a tire. But he also probably has access to triple A and one phone call from Joe Burrow might actually have everyone working that day rushing out to answer the call. With all that being said, you assumed that putting together furniture would not be something he'd be inclined to do. And then a few weeks ago he, Jimmy and your dad spent three hours building a custom Bellini crib. Now that he had a taste of satisfaction in knowing that he put it together with his own hands, he wanted to build everything in the baby's nursery.

Today's project consisted of your dad, Jimmy and Joe putting together a bunch of things that were delivered while you, your mom and Robin sorted through baby clothes and collected freshly washed laundry to place in his closet. Every tiny sock and little hat sent butterflies in your stomach at the thought of your own tiny person wearing these clothes in just a few short weeks. It was both daunting and exciting.

Throughout the day, more people were walking into the house, Ja'Marr came in first since he pretty much lived next door. Sam showed up 30 minutes later, a tool-kit in hand. A few high school friends even drove from Athens to help.

"Guess Joe called in the calvary." Robin says with a laugh, putting the onesies she just pulled out of the dryer in neat stacks to count and fold.

A few hours later, the three of you took a look at the inventory laid out before you. Your son probably had enough clothes to last him through four outfit changes a day for the next few months. You mentally reminded yourself to cut everyone off from buying any more articles of clothing until further notice.

The doorbell rang and Joe magically appeared downstairs to answer it, his Jeff Ruby's catering order had arrived. A few staff members carried in all the food and Joe thanked them on their way out. Before you could even ask, he said "you don't think they're all working for free do you? Had to give them a few incentives." You simply shook your head, a smile forming on your lips as he disappeared upstairs again.

When the guys were finally done, everyone gathered downstairs to eat dinner, casually chatting about life, Ja'Marr giving a recap of his offseason so far and what trips he had planned. Everything was actually normal until your mom spoke up.

"So, who are you guys gonna have in the delivery room with you?"

Joe nudged you under the table with his knee, giving you a look like "here we go."

"Um...we're still finalizing details of the birth plan. I was just thinking me and Joe for now, the less people seeing me at my worst, the better," you joke, trying to keep it light.

"Well what about visitors?" Robin chimes in. “How soon after are we going to be able to meet the little one?"

"We were thinking the next day. Gives us time to settle in, get some sleep and then have you guys meet him," Joe says casually. That seems to satisfy all parties, your parents nod in understanding and you breathe out a sigh of relief that the conversation doesn't go any further.

Pretty soon after dinner, most of the guests are gone and Joe asks if you want to see the nursery. You immediately hold out your arms and let him lift you to your feet, keeping a hand on the small of your back until you reach the room. Before he opens the door he covers your eyes with his other hand. "You ready?"

"Yes," you let out a small laugh, the anticipation eating away at you, "you've been hyping up these packages for weeks let's see what you’ve done."

"Alright," you hear him open the door and he guides you inside by the hand, still keeping your eyes covered. "3...2...1."

Some of the big things had already been put together. The walls had been painted, the closet space was set up, Joe had brought an LED starry-night ceiling projector (on top of the chandelier that was already in the room) and a sleek, modern changing table with a with several gadgets you weren’t ready to mess with. Yes it was too much. No, he wasn't going to return any of it.

Your eyes scanned the room: a plush, white rug that looked too soft to step on without socks, a glider that seemed to have more tech features than your car, and a Dyson purifier glowing faintly in the corner. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of all the hands that had come together to make it perfect. “He’s not even here yet, and he’s already so loved,” you said, your voice catching slightly.

"He definitely is," Joe says happily, knowing he and his team nailed it. "Come on, I'll give you a tour." He gestures toward the window, "blackout curtains. I read that they can help babies and toddlers sleep better. They can also help regulate the temperature and reduce noise. For temperature though, I got a Dyson obviously, it's supposed to be the best.” He walks you over to the next spot. “Over here we have the changing table."

"Does this...have a built in warming pad for wipes?"

"Yeah isn't it great?” He beams, “so his little butt is warm when we change him in the middle of the night."

You let out a soft laugh at how much of a softie he already is for someone he hasn’t met yet. "He's gonna be mad we're changing him either way, warm wipes or not. But I know you’ll be using it so it’s fine.”

He opens the top drawer of the changing table, "I put some miscellaneous stuff in here. All organic. Silk-blend crib sheets, swaddles, and burp cloths that I washed yesterday so they're ready to use. Over here is the feeding station and the mini fridge, which I'm really excited about."

"Why do we need a mini fridge in the nursery?"

"Think about this. I'm on overnight baby duty and you're catching up on sleep. Our baby is sobbing because he's hungry. Instead of making him wait while I go downstairs and grab a bottle, we just have the bottles in here. And then this little compartment on this side is a freezer so we can have milk storage bags in here too since the bottle warmer is right there. And watch this,” Joe said, pressing a button on the bottle warmer. “It’s like a Formula 1 pit stop but for babies. Two minutes tops, and he’s good to go.” You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at his comparison.

"You know what? I'm not mad at it. Keep going."

"Right next to the fridge is the actual feeding station so we've got a couple pillows here next to the chair, burp clothes and then a little table in case whoever is in here needs water or to set something down. White noise machine is over here. You gotta play with the setting there's like 100 sound options and custom settings. The baby monitor is cool too, it has HD video, two-way audio, sleep analytics, the whole nine.” Joe pick up the expensive contraption. “Here, let me show you some of the noise machine settings."

He was too excited for you to decline, so you motioned for him to go ahead. "This one is ocean waves," he said, hitting a button. A soft crash of waves echoed through the room. "And this is rainforest sounds. Oh, and this one—"

"OW!" you yelped, clutching your belly and bending forward slightly.

Joe froze mid-button press, the sound of chirping birds now filling the nursery. "What? What happened? Is it happening?" His voice rose an octave as he practically leapt across the room to you.

You couldn’t help but laugh through the sharp jolt of pain, waving him off with one hand. "Relax, Joe. It’s not labor. It’s uh...lightning crotch."

"Lightning what?" His panicked expression turned to utter confusion, and he blinked at you like you’d just spoken a foreign language.

"It’s this sharp, sudden pain down there," you explained, gesturing vaguely toward your lower half. "Totally normal. Just your kid punching my nerves like one of those UFC fighters you're obsessed with."

Joe stared at you, wide-eyed. "That’s a thing? That’s allowed? Why does no one tell dads about this stuff?"

You shrugged, still giggling as you slowly straightened up. "Welcome to pregnancy. Every day’s a surprise," you reassure him, patting him on the back.

Joe ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely rattled. "Okay, so let me get this straight. So far, there’s morning sickness, swollen ankles, back pain, weird cravings, and now lightning crotch? What’s next? Spontaneous combustion?"

"Would you calm down?" you teased, reaching for his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. "It’s not that bad. Just part of the process."

Joe let out a dramatic sigh, muttering, "You’re making a whole person, and I can’t even keep up with the symptoms."

"You’re doing great, babe," you said with a smirk. "Now, are you gonna show me what’s in the next drawer, or should I add 'Joe having a meltdown' to my list of pregnancy side effects?"

That earned a laugh from him, and he shook his head, pulling himself together. "Fine. But I’m looking this lightning crotch thing up later," he said, giving you a playful glare before opening the next drawer.

Joe is going through the various assortment of baby blankets but what catches your eye is the bookcase. You step closer to it, running your fingers over the leather-bound spines. "Are these…first editions of Goodnight Moon and Oh the Places You’ll Go?"

"Collector's editions," Joe corrected with a sheepish shrug. "My mom used to read these to me,” Joe explained, his voice soft. “I figured…maybe I could do the same for him. Only with the fanciest versions, of course.”

"Of course,” you affirm. “You're adorable. This place is...a lot. But it's genuinely perfect Joe, you guys did an amazing job, thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, I should be thanking you. You're making us parents soon."

"I know. Being in here and seeing it finished makes it feel more real. There's gonna be an actual person using this stuff. That's insane."

He grabs your hand and leads you out of the room, "it is insane. And I can't wait. I wonder what he's gonna look like."

"I hope he looks like you, that would be so adorable. Having a tiny version of you would be a dream."

Joe chuckled, a soft, boyish sound that made your heart flutter. "You’re setting the bar pretty high for this kid," he teased, then paused, his expression turning serious for a moment. "But really, no matter what he looks like I know he'll be perfect."

The two of you stood there in the quiet of the hallway, the soft hum of the mini fridge in the nursery the only sound. For a moment, everything felt perfectly still—just the two of you, on the edge of an adventure that would change your lives forever.

You said goodbye to the last of your visitors and you turned around to Joe standing in the middle of the living room holding a notepad and a pen. "Where did you even get that, weren’t you just hugging your mom?"

"I had it on the coffee table. We’re supposed to watch the video for our prenatal class, remember?"

"Right now?" You ask, looking at your phone. It was only 9pm but it felt like at least one in the morning. You felt like Joe with his strict bedtime during the season.

He nods, already reaching for the remote. "I have big plans for us tomorrow so yeah, now is the perfect time."

"Alright, put it on." You relax into him, grabbing your blanket. "You're really gonna take notes?"

"Yeah. This is for educational purposes, I need any helpful tips I can get."

"You're sure you're gonna be able to watch and write things down? I don't want to scare you but, it might be intense."

"Babe, I get chased by grown men who want to take my head off for a living. Intense is my middle name," he places the notebook on the table and ditches the writing utensil, lazily placing his arm around you before starting the video. "You know what? I might not even take notes this time, I'll probably watch it again in my office in a few weeks when we get closer to the due date and take notes then."

You shrug, letting him do his thing. "Whatever you say, babe."

Joe's relaxed posture slowly turned a bit more tense as the video went on, the graphic image of the baby crowning was unfortunately going to be engrained in his memory for a long time. You had to stifle a laugh as his usual cool, calm, and collected demeanor cracked like a fine china plate dropped onto tile.

"Is...is that what we're gonna go through? What you're gonna go through?" His voice was shaky, as though he’d seen a ghost.

"Yup," you emphasized the ‘p’ sound. "That right there is the beauty of childbirth Joseph." You could practically feel his discomfort radiating off him.

"Oh my god." Joe muttered, his eyes wide in disbelief as he tried to mentally recover.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. "You know, it’s not all that bad. It's just...well, it’s a lot. And it’s very messy.”

He blinked at the screen, still not sure how to process what he’d just witnessed. "Right, sure, a lot. Just—" He exhaled dramatically, trying to find words. "I need a drink. I don't even like alcohol. Or we should maybe just call it a night and go to sleep. I need maybe a small...break from the miracle of life."

You chuckled, wrapping yourself up in the blanket and snuggling into his side. "Welcome to parenthood, Joe. Just wait until you're actually in the room. This was just the trailer."

Joe leaned back, a hand on his forehead as he processed the visual overload. "Little man needs to stay in there a little longer. I'm not ready to watch that horror film."

After declaring that the two of you needed a break from baby stuff, you and Joe took it easy the next day, diving into a true crime marathon after he came home from his morning workout. It was the perfect distraction from all the overwhelming baby prep. But today, he was back at it—better than ever.

"Did you know that newborns don’t have kneecaps? They have cartilage where they should be. They don’t get kneecaps until later."

"Wait what?" you ask, clearly confused.

"Yeah, I read it this morning, it's crazy. He isn't gonna have knees for weeks. I could've used that trick in 2020," Joe adds nonchalantly, his tone as casual as ever as he brushes off his knee injury from years ago. The way he brings it up so easily makes you laugh.

"What else did you learn?" you ask, your curiosity piqued.

Joe glances over at you, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "I read that dads who are involved early on in caregiving—like diaper changes and feedings—bond with their babies faster and more strongly. So I’m all in on that."

"Baby?" you ask, tilting your head to the side as you look over at him.

Joe pipes up, looking away from his hospital bag, still gathering his things. "Yeah?"

"You didn't have a choice on that one. You were gonna feed him and change his diapers whether you liked it or not," you laugh and easily catch the t-shirt he tosses at you. It just happened to be your favorite one you liked to steal and it smelled just like him. That was definitely coming with you to the hospital.

You stand up from your spot on the floor, checking everything off your list. You had comfy clothes, fuzzy socks, four outfits (just in case), a phone charger, a portable charger, a water bottle and a robe which you'd never worn before but Joe insisted you bring it because what if this was the one time that you actually needed it. "What's in your bag?"

Joe opened the Nike duffel and let you take a look. "Why do you have your backup iPad in here?" you ask, a little puzzled.

"OTAs start two weeks after he's born. I need to glance through stuff and make sure I'm ready," he explains, glancing at you with a shrug.

You roll your eyes playfully. "Fine, but what are these doing in here?" You pull out his Bose noise-canceling headphones. "Are you gonna tune me out while I'm in labor?"

Joe looks at you with wide eyes, practically dropping the headphones in surprise. "What? No!" He quickly pulls out another pair, a sheepish smile on his face. "I brought some for you too, just in case you want to listen to music and, you know, maybe tune me out a little."

"You're really thinking ahead, huh?" you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

Joe shrugs, his smile growing. "I try."

You nod, crossing your arms. "I mean, I guess we’ll see if those headphones get a workout during the labor part."

Joe gives you a playful look, his tone still light-hearted but his eyes full of genuine excitement. "I’m just saying, if you need a little escape from my endless rambling during contractions, at least you have options."

"Oh Joey, I love you."

“I love you,” he sighs, pulling you into a tight hug, feeling steady kicks against his stomach. "And I love you too, baby boy. Kid can't stand not having the attention on him," he smiles, his voice soft but filled with affection.

"Taking after his dad already?" you tease, the corners of your mouth lifting into a grin.

Joe pulls back slightly, raising an eyebrow with a mock-serious expression. "Now you know that’s just not true."

You chuckle softly, resting your head against his chest. "I guess we’ll see, huh?"

He lets you go and the two of you go through all three bags one more time before Joe announces the next task. "Are you ready for our hospital trial run?"

"I still think it's ridiculous but if it'll make you feel more comfortable then I'm in."

Joe carries all the bags down the stairs, tossing them by the door and has the stopwatch open on his phone. "Okay, here we go." He presses 'start' and grabs the keys and the bags while you stand in the kitchen, taking a sip of water as you waddle to the car.

"Babe, why are you going so slow? We're on a time crunch here."

"Well if you must know, your son is crushing all of her internal organs and grinding my hip bones together. If I walk too fast I’ll pee. And then you'll have to get me new clothes and I'll have to change. That'd be really bad for your time crunch."

He drops it immediately. "Okay you're right, take your time."

Once he helps you in the car he rushes around to the driver's side and buckles in, opening the garage door and pulling out of the driveway. You're holding the phone, watching his time as he drives carefully but efficiently, weaving through the streets like a man on a mission. "What if there's traffic that day?" You ask.

"Then I'll figure it out. I just need ballpark range how long it'll take us to get there." He checks the stopwatch again, the third time in the last five minutes.

"Joe, you don't have to treat this like you’re at the two-minute warning during the Super Bowl when you’re down one score."

His grip tightens on the steering wheel despite your words, his jaw clenching as he glances at you, "better to be safe than sorry."

You shrug, reclining in your seat to take some pressure off your back.

"You good?" He asks gently, his hand finding its way to your leg. "How’s the baby doing?" Joe asks, glancing at you between turns, a hint of concern in his voice. "Should we pull over so you can stretch?"

"No, I'm fine," you sigh, a smile tugging at your lips as you settle in more comfortably. "I could really go for some ice cream right now though."

"We'll get some on the way home," he laughs, a relieved chuckle escaping him. "Call it a reward for a successful trial run."

He pulls into the parking lot of the birth center with a sigh of relief, glancing at his phone in your hand. "13 minutes, not bad at all," he says with a sense of accomplishment.

"Yeah, that's great," you smile, a playful glint in your eyes. "I want a scoop of rocky road and a scoop of raspberry sorbet. In a bowl."

"Together?" he asks, his eyebrows raised in mock disbelief.

"Yes," you reply, grinning.

Joe pulls out of the parking lot, a proud smile on his face as if he just completed an Olympic event. "Mission accomplished. Ice cream in five minutes."

A week later, Joe was going over a food list with his chef Morgan. "For quick snacks, I was thinking Greek yogurt with granola and fruit, hard-boiled eggs—she'll need the protein. Maybe some string cheese or cheese cubes, nut butter with apples or bananas. We’ll definitely need to stock up on protein bars," he lists off items, looking through the fridge and cabinets.

"What‘a going on in here?" You walk into the kitchen and spot Morgan jotting down every word Joe is saying.

Joe looks up and smiles at you but then pauses for a moment, his eyes tracking your every movement as you waddle over to the counter. He raises an eyebrow. "You alright? You're walking like you just got off a horse."

You roll your eyes playfully but feel a grin spread across your face. "Nice to see you’re paying attention."

"Seriously," Joe says, now focused on you with concern. He steps closer, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders as he watches you shuffle around. "That’s a pretty pronounced waddle. You okay?"

"Yup, just one of the perks of carrying a tiny human in there." You shrug, trying to act casual about it, but it's hard to ignore how much effort it takes to move these days.

Morgan, glancing between the two of you, stifles a laugh. "It’s the baby," he explains with a knowing look. "The weight shifts, and her body’s getting ready for the big day."

Joe doesn’t look entirely convinced. "I don’t know, babe," he says, lightly tapping your belly. "Maybe we need to get you some support or something. You shouldn’t have to waddle all over the place. Like one of those belly belt things to help take the weight off your hips.”

You smirk. "Trust me, I’ve got it covered. But thanks for noticing."

Joe looks at you, giving you a soft smile that says he’s both amused and a little concerned. "Yeah, no problem. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable."

"Thanks, Joe," you tease, giving him a playful nudge before you turn to Morgan, who’s still scribbling on his notepad as Joe turns his away again. "So, what do you have so far?"

Morgan lists off everything he’s written, "Trail mix, chia pudding, pumpkin or sunflower seeds—"

"We never have those in the house," you note, crossing your arms. "Why now?"

"They're high in zinc and other nutrients that support lactation," Joe says simply, not looking up from the fridge.

"That's helpful but I really will probably need fruit, veggie sticks and hummus since you're interesting in me increasing my protein intake, maybe some avocado toast and smoothies too? Keep it simple, Morgan. I’ll also need the lactation cookies I sent you."

"Noted." Morgan says, catching Joe’s shake of his head as you laugh.

"Just get her whatever she wants," Joe sighs, exasperated, but with a fond smile. "I’m actually glad you brought up the cookies, Y/N, because I wanted to run something by you. Both of you, actually."

You sigh, already dreading the conversation, and the chef looks up from his list. "What’s up?"

Joe pulls out a folder from one of the kitchen drawers, showing Morgan the list of the “best” lactation cookie and energy bite recipes he could find.

"Babe," you groan, "I told you that you're overthinking the cookies. They’re just cookies."

“Lactation cookies,” he corrected, already flipping to another recipe. “These are important. They’re, like, your fuel.”

"My apologies your honor," you laugh again, "carry on."

Morgan laughs too and Joe playfully glares at him. "Yeah—yeah, laugh it up guys." He gestures toward the folder, "I highlighted the key ingredients on each recipe.”

The chef raised an eyebrow at the sheer number of recipes. “You want me to make all of these?”

You stand up and take a peak at the extensive list, "you don't have to do that Morgan, just make a few batches of chocolate chip and call it a day," you sense Joe tensing next to you and you rub his back a little, "you're doing that thing again. Where you're freaking out instead of relaxing. You need to relax," you say with a small smile, guiding him back to calm.

You take your eyes off of Joe and focus your attention back on Morgan. "Thank you for never flinching at his insane requests, but if these cookies don’t work out, you can just order some. As long as they have oats, flaxseed, and brewer’s yeast to support milk production, then I should be fine."

Morgan nods, jotting a few more things down before he leaves to head to the grocery store. Joe looks at you, his expression softening. You nod at him, offering a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, you’re not the only one who’s done their research,” you say, nodding your head as his lips twitch into a smile.

"I’m impressed.” He gives you tiny claps, the playful gesture breaking the moment of seriousness. “Speaking of research...I may have one more surprise for you."

"I don't think I can handle anymore surprises," you groan, "can you just tell me what it is?"

"I don't think you know what a surprise is," he laughs rubbing your back, "let me just show you and then I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day."

"That's a lie,” you reply flatly, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, fine. It’s definitely a lie," he admits with a sheepish grin, shrugging like he’s caught red-handed.

Joe takes you to the most unlikely place to reveal a surprise. "Joe...why are we in the bathroom?"

"This is the surprise. Do you see anything different?"

You look around, not sensing anything extremely out of place. Until you see it and tears start pooling in your eyes. "How did you—when did you do this?"

"It's just a little something I put together to make things easier for you when we're home. There's another one in the closet downstairs. I'll move it out so you have easy access when it's time." He pauses, taking a second to collect his thoughts. "I just want to make sure you’re as comfortable as you can be. I know this is going to be tough on you, and I...I want to feel like I’m helping, even if it’s in a small way."

A postpartum station, not the most glamorous gift in the world, but it was one of the most meaningful things he'd ever done for you. Imagining him sitting in his office or sitting up in bed at night doing all this research to ensure you were comfortable made you want to cry. You never thought the sight of adult diapers, nipple cream, and a portable stool could bring you to tears, but here you were, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness behind it all.

Joe gently wipes at a tear that slips down your cheek, his expression softening as he says, ‘hey, don’t cry. I want you to have everything you need. You deserve it."

You blink back the new tears threatening to spill over, shaking your head in disbelief. ‘I can’t believe you thought of all this. Thank you, Joe.

"Pretty much," he shrugs, giving you kiss on the side of the head. "Just one more thing to check off the list."

"And what's that?"

"Bringing him home and having him here, physically with us."

You laugh, resting a hand on your lower belly, on top of Joe's hand. "Oh yeah...that one minor detail."

“Minor detail?!” Joe grins, his eyes bright with amusement. “I think that’s the main event, babe. Let’s hope I don’t need a stopwatch for that one.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding you in the moment, “Thank you, Joe. For this…for thinking of everything. If you’re this amazing now, I can’t wait to see you as a dad.”

His expression softens, his gaze dropping to your belly as if imagining the tiny life inside. “I just want to make sure you both have everything you need,” he says quietly. He spoke with such quiet certainty that it left no room for doubt—this wasn’t just a job to him; it was everything.

The lump in your throat returns, but this time you let it linger, because this—his quiet devotion, his unwavering effort—is why you fell in love with him. “You’re already doing it,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “And you’re doing it perfectly.”

Joe smiles, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Good. Now let’s get through the rest of this list before he gets here and turns everything upside down.”

Your laugh echoes through the bathroom, the two of you standing there in the glow of anticipation, knowing your lives were about to change in the most beautiful way.

[genderqueerdykes]

The whole "transandrophobia debate" is so tiring. I've been here long enough to have seen people not just say the same exact shit about aromantic and ace people, or even bi people, but transmen and mascs themselves. Like, not only have we figuratively been here, with people using the exact same talking points against aros, aces, bis, nonbinary people, literally just people using neopronouns, etc. etc. but we've also LITERALLY been here before.

It's especially frustrating because it was only a few years back that conversations finally opened up to address the damage people like Calvin Garrah and Blair White have done internally to the trans community; and now we get to log onto tumblr-dot-com and watch people get called "whiny afab trans people" and "they-fab" AGAIN.

I'm just so tired of people who do not know queer history, especially not the shit that has happened on this website alone in the past 15 years, picking a new letter of the acronym that is acceptable to bully, walking into the tags that group made for themselves to discuss their own issues, and telling them they're wrong and disgusting for "taking up space" in the queer community.

huge round of applause for this ask, seriously. thank you so fucking much. thank you for taking the time to write this up and send it. i hope you're having a wonderful day. sorry for the long ass text dump, but you brought up so many good points that i want to touch on

Like, not only have we figuratively been here, with people using the exact same talking points against aros, aces, bis, nonbinary people, literally just people using neopronouns, etc. etc. but we've also LITERALLY been here before.

EXACTLY this. it's literally the exact. same. bullshit. that people have pulled in the past. i cannot stress enough about how the anti transmasc rhetoric right now is exactly like the anti ace and anti aro bullshit we had going on 5 - 10 years ago. it was seriously bad and it's the exact same as this is now. people were so obsessed with hating aromantics and asexuals in the exact same fashion. nearly every other post had aros or aces as the butt of the joke. people were just constantly making posts making fun of sex repulsed aces. telling us that we're "not really queer" and that we're just "taking up space and resources". it was literally the NORM to bully aromantic and ace people on here for YEARS. it was like EVERYONE had a shitty opinion about aromanticism and asexuality and they NEEDED you to hear it. it was relentless. it was inescapable. it's still happening, but it used to be even worse because people were just obsessed with waking up and mocking aros and aces on this hellsite.

and now people are doing the exact. same. thing. to trans men and transmascs. the new punching bag has been chosen and its transmascs and men. and people will do ANYTHING to make them the butt of the joke, no matter WHAT the conversation is. tiktoks and instagram reels and twitter and tumblr posts talking about how people gladly misgender transmascs and tell them they're "confused girls" and "delusional tomboys". i cannot stress that it is the exact same intensity and level of hostility as what you pointed out. it's the same. it's not to say that this didn't happen before.

like anon pointed out, people were treating trans men and mascs like shit back THEN too. back then, they were getting mocked for being "uwu soft deer prince boys" and white boys with fluffy hair and shit like that. they were getting told that T would make them aggressive and ugly and that they'd instantly go bald. people would literally torment guys who wanted to take T. people were so mean about T back then, not like it's gotten any better. people would yell at transmascs and go "TESTOSTERONE WON'T MAKE YOU INTO AN ANIME TWINK!!!!" and other weird ass shit. people were still treating trans men and mascs this way 10 years ago, it's just gotten worse and worse and worse.

honestly i'm SO sick of people calling AFAB people "whiny". i'm SO sick of it. i'm intersex, i'm not AFAB, and I'M tired of seeing people treat each other like this. it's not cool to hate on AFAB people! it's not cool to make fun of AFAB trans people! it's not cool to refuse to say trans man and say "AFAB trans person" instead! it's not cool to be an asshole!!!!!!!!!!! i'm gonna say it:

if you perceive an AFAB trans person or """"THEY-FAB""" talking about their issues in a serious manner as "whining," you are being misogynistic as fuck. if you think that people assigned female at birth are inherently whiny literally just for TALKING, you are being misogynistic as HELL. the fact that word that these people default to is "whiny" speaks a lot. like that specific word is crucial because it tells you literally every single thing they think about AFAB people. it's so misogynistic it makes me literally see red. they are stuck on the fact that that person is AFAB, and because that involves the concept of "female", it means that that person is inherently whiny, stupid, and annoying. this is sexism. this is misogyny. it's NOT progressive, and it becomes transandrophobia really quickly! which is a real thing that you need to care about!

if you've lived a transmasculine or trans man life, you know that transandrophobia is real. that's why i've never understood the "Transandrophobia isn't real" thing because. if it's mostly trans women and transfemmes who aren't also trans men telling you that transandrophobia isn't real... how the hell would they even know that? like ask yourself how the hell would a transfeminine trans woman know what it's like to live as a trans man? it's not comparable to when that woman was a cis man. cis manhood and trans manhood are not the same thing at all in terms of how we're treated societally. you can't compare the way cis men are treated to the way trans men are treated, they're not the same.

if they're not transmasculine, and they're not a trans man... how the hell would they know how people treat transmascs and trans men? i mean seriously think about it. why would you listen to someone other than a trans man about the experiences trans men face. what the hell? like seriously why are we encouraging trans women and transfemmes to talk about the transmasculine experience if they haven't lived it? why are we encouraging trans women and femmes to TALK OVER trans men and mascs? why are we encouraging trans women and transfemmes to speak as experts on a life they literally do not lead? why are we encouraging people who literally don't know what it's like to talk about the experience like they live it every day? this makes no fucking sense.

nobody encourages you to listen to trans men talking about trans women and their experiences and life like they've been there personally. nobody encourages you to listen to trans men explain OTHER PEOPLE'S struggles and identities FOR them. i don't like that we've created a narrative where AMAB trans women and transfemmes are the only ones who are "right" about things and thus the only ones we should listen to, and the only ones who have the right to talk. trans women and transfemmes have so much to offer our community, and we do need to listen. we do need to care about our transfeminine sisters. we do need to listen to what it's like to be a trans woman. trans women and transfemmes can be wildly intelligent, insightful, caring, compassionate and wonderful people, and can know and learn a lot about life, but that doesn't mean that we know every single experience out there firsthand. i don't like the idea that people think that trans women and transfemmes know EVERYTHING about queerness and should be your ONLY resource on it.

i don't like that. it creates an echo chamber.

why can't we let trans men, transmascs, and AFAB trans people speak for themselves? like seriously: why? what's the reason? literally what is the reason because i can't find it. there's literally no good reason to tell someone to shut up just because they're AFAB. have we forgotten the concepts of sexism and bioessentialism?

imagine if people went around saying "whiny they-mabs".

imagine if people were on here saying "whiny AMAB trans people".

the queer community seems to go through cycles where people pick a handful of identities to use as a punching bag and a scapegoat. that's all this is. people want to scapegoat trans men, transmascs, and AFAB trans people into being the "bad actors" that they can blame for all of their problems and "everything that's wrong with the queer community". they want to blame all of their problems on us because facing their problems head on is hard and scary. they want to blame us for everything wrong in the community instead of lifting a finger to improve it. they want to make trans men look like evil, shitty assholes to try to make trans women look better by proxy and it just. isn't. working.

like, as a trans woman, i'm honestly just fucking over the "only listen to trans women/transfemmes" shit because it feels like virtue signalling and an attempt to suck up to us for brownie points. it's really not flattering at all. it's honestly insulting. we're not the monolith of the queer community. we are manipulated, abused, and oppressed, but that doesn't mean you have to shut other people up when they talk about their own oppression. i have to be real with you, so much of this behavior just comes across as people parroting something just so they can be accepted into a group, to belong somewhere. it feels like a lot of insecure people who just want a pat on the back for saying something easy. it feels like people genuinely don't give a shit about what we have to say and are more concerned with showing off "how much they care" about our struggles. you know... virtue signalling. it feels disingenuous and like it's being done for display purposes only.

it also seems like a lot of people just join the queer community because they view it as the Catty Petty Bitch Drama Community. like some people latch on to that really bitchy catty sassy gay man stereotype and think that's all there is to queerness. they think all it is is bullying other people and telling them what to do and being mean for how they dress, act, present and feel. they want someone to bully. they want someone they perceive as weaker than them to harass. they want to join the community so they can pick a "team" to fight against all the other "teams". people want to turn it into an us vs. them within the community itself, and i have no fucking idea why.

if you are frustrated with cisheteronormative society and how it treats you, don't punch laterally. don't punch down on someone who's on your own team. you don't need to hurt other queer people, we aren't the ones who hurt you. you'll feel like an empty husk for the rest of your life if all you do is chase catharsis, as it is fleeting, not fulfilling.

[goldweaverr]

Hi! I just saw your first post about our beloved Kremnos prince, Mydei, and I absolutely love it! ❤️ You captured his character so beautifully, especially his views on love and romance. I adore how meticulous and accurate you were in portraying him—I completely see him that way too! Our prince carries the heavy burden of his family's royal lineage and the countless people who rely on him in the name of Kremnos. This perfectly explains his inexperience with love and romance—he simply has no time or hasn't been able to find someone to share such a connection with. I absolutely love how you portrayed his behavior when he finally discovers someone he can truly open his soul to! It’s so beautifully done! ❤️ I wonder—have you ever thought about Mydei letting his lover take the lead in bed? Whether it’s because of his inexperience or his eagerness to explore, the idea is so captivating. I love imagining Mydei finally letting go, allowing himself to be passionately ravished as he releases all the pent-up stress and burdens he’s carried for so long. It feels so fitting for his character—a vulnerable yet liberating moment where he can truly surrender and experience love in its rawest form. ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

OH MY !! I wasn't expecting such a lovely response at all, I'm so flustered, thank you so so much !!! I'm glad we share an opinion and I'm so glad you like how I portrayed him !!! I was hoping people would see The Vision™ so I'm beyond happy to know that not only has it reached, but others see it too ~! I'm very overwhelmed with the positive responses, and I'm more than happy to be sharing a space with so many fellow Mydei fans!! I finished the quest today and haven't been okay about him since, I hope he doesn't get sidelined too much as the story progresses and more characters get introduced because I sincerely love him so, so much <3

Again, thank you for your kind words!! They mean so much to me!!

And as for that lovely idea... muehehe let's get to it then ! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ I hope I can do it justice !

— NSFW! MDNI! No spoilers!

Love. In it's rawest form.

He knew he could let you take control. All your midnight rendezvous so far had him taking the lead. It just simply felt natural to be the one to drop you on your back — hand behind your head to soften your impact against the already soft mattress — and pleasure you until you can't take any more. Until all you can do is scream his name endlessly. Until you forget there were Titans out there to worship instead of him. That was his role towards you, it felt only natural. He didn't mind it one bit, he was more than happy with it. Steadied above you by the strength of his arms, staring at the gorgeous sight of you unraveling underneath him, your expressions, the eye contact, your nails on his back. It was divine.

Sometimes, you two would spice it up a bit by making slight changes. Trying a few new positions. You were both still so new to this, taking it really slow to remain comfortable. Yet so eager to explore more of each other, of love, and sex, intimacy. Although he understands there's no shame in having discussions about these things beforehand, it still felt easier for him to learn through action. If something bothered either of you, neither would hesitate to express it, and everything halts. He's not an animal. He understands boundaries, limits, preferences, comfort.. he doesn't shy away from expressing his own, and wants you to always be equally as comfortable. Love is not meant to be uncomfortable.

For example, one thing Mydei found he doesn't like is when you're on all fours and he's taking you from behind.

The position felt... Uncomfortable to him in a strange way. He found it felt a bit degrading to you, and it prevented him from seeing your face and expressions. Which upset him when he came to realize that not staring at your beautiful face while he's making love to you takes away so much of the intimacy that brings him comfort during these activities. He loves watching your reactions. He even likes talking to you through it. Lacking that made him feel vulnerable in a way. So after you were done, he told you how he felt, and that was the last time the position was used. Simple as that.

You had both been thinking about bringing it up, but wondering how to approach it.

He might not look like it, but when it came to this newfound love, he was so no less eager to discover everything that came with it. He wanted to know everything about you and show you everything about him. He wanted to know how to kiss you in the right ways, how to hold you with a grip that's balanced between protective and loving, how to be there for you in a way that doesn't suffocate you, where on your body to put his lips so that he drives you insane, what pace of thrusts makes you see stars in the glory of Kephale's morning...

And through it, he discovers himself. He's learning along with you. He doesn't know much about these parts of who he is, he's endlessly grateful you've given him this opportunity to learn and get to know himself more. And his recent thought is that it might be nice if sometime, you were to get on top of him and ravish him the way he usually does to you.

But, that can't be right? He can't ask you to do that, can he? Is he allowed to want this? Shouldn't it be his job to pleasure you and take care of you? It might be shameful if he wanted to just sit back and let you do all the work...

You, on the other hand, were thinking about it endlessly. Wanting to watch him relax, watch him unwind. Wanting to be the one giving him pleasure for once, he deserves it. He takes so much care of you, always putting you above himself, in every aspect. Even outside of your relationship, he's always putting others first. Prioritizing Phainon's safety over his own, even the two outsiders above himself. Putting the city of Okhema and it's citizens safety first, putting the wants of his people above his own... He's never given enough credit for how much of himself he sacrifices everyday for others, because they view him as too distant, too rough, too cold... His actions speak louder than his words, and his actions are constantly putting himself in harm's way if it meant someone else would be safe.

So, for once, he deserves to turn his mind off. Turn off his senses and his desire to please. To just enjoy being taken care of, being loved, being thanked for everything.

So when midnight came around (or the hour people got used to being midnight, not like the endless sunlight indicated much for them) and you two found yourself tangled up in the usual dance that happens so often, you decided it's now or never. As Mydei began to slowly guide you towards the mattress, lips never once leaving yours, you turned your position around an dropped him down instead. The sudden movement broke the kiss and left him with an expression of shock on his face, staring at you questioning what just happened. You smile at him and gently push him up a bit more, letting him get entirely comfortable on the bed. He follows your lead slowly, unsure where this is going, but curious to see what you're up to. Your expression remained calm, a smile that looks almost like a smirk, mischief and adoration in your eyes as you stared into his fiery gold ones. "let me take care of you" you broke the silence by saying. His mouth opened slightly, as if to answer, before it closed again after not finding the right words. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he doesn't break eye contact, "take care of me?" He asks, tone full of uncertainty. You nod, "you're always taking the lead. In battle, in bed.. why don't you just let me thank you this time, hm?" Your voice came out soft and gentle as you began to straddle him, hands pushing him down slightly so he can be fully relaxed into the comfortable bed and he follows your every silent order as you get yourself comfortable on top of him. His lap, your throne.

This is what he's been thinking of. He should be happy. But he finds himself feeling a bit guilty, like he doesn't deserve it, like this isn't fair to you, and that prevents him from relaxing entirely. The worry on his expression was clear to you, you understood each other through the tiniest of microexpressions, and you could tell what he was thinking. "You're worth everything" is all what you say in response to soothe your worries, deciding to follow in his example and let your actions speak louder than your words.

You pressed your lips in kiss gently, moving against his in a soft rhythm that felt too innocent considering the moment blooming between the two of you. His hand came up to grip the back of your head carefully, letting you do what you want and following along as best he can. Your hand on the other end got to working off the armor on his body, shedding away the last piece of protection that separates his bare body from you, thinking to yourself how grateful you are that he trusts you to this extent, to allow himself to be this vulnerable and unprotected in your presence. His hands shift as they help you take off his clothing, the sound of metal hitting the ground resonating as more and more pieces are thrown off to the floor carelessly until he was naked. Although it was all about him tonight, you still pulled away to strip yourself as well, not wanting him to feel an imbalance in the dynamic between the two of you. As soon as you were naked, he leaned in to kiss you again but you dodged his lips with a playfully chuckle, he lets out a sulking scoff in response.

You begin to kiss his jaw, running your tongue over the spot you knew he liked, before you slowly went down to his neck. Your arms wrapped around his waist to drag your chest flush against his, wanting to feel him as close as you can as your lips continued to explore his neck, as perfectly sculpted as everything else about him is.

Marks left shamelessly decorating his neck, paying no mind to how easily they can be seen through the little clothing he wears. Your hands and mouth worked in tandem to assure his pleasure, one hand busying itself rubbing his length up and down slowly, another playing with his chest, as your mouth kept leaving kisses and bites and hickeys all over his neck and collarbones, tongue tracing over the red marks adorning his torso. His breathing heavy, his chest heaving up and down quickly, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise them, shameless moans and grunts and groans coming from above you. Sneaking a peek over to look at him, his eyebrows are pressed together tightly in pleasure as his eyes are closed shut, head leaning back, sweat dripping down his forehead.. a divine sight. One that motivated you to work even harder to pleasure him. Your mouth left his neck and went down to take a nipple in your mouth, earning you a harsh jolt of his entire body that made you yelp. "Sorry.." he apologizes sheepishly, face red as his hands try to distract you by roaming all over your body. You suppress a chuckle and plant a quick smooch on his lips to tease him, and he lets out a quiet groan as he rolls his eyes at you. You get back to what you were doing, sucking his nipple the way he does to yours, hand playing with the other way, all while your other hand never left his length, giving him just enough friction to stay excited, never enough to cum.

Eventually you let go of his chest and pull back for a minute to admire your work so far, admire how he already looks spent despite you barely being halfway through your mission. He'll complain and scold you for all the marks left across his torso tomorrow morning, but you'll deal with that problem later, currently you feel proud of yourself. Your gaze moves over to the vein on his bicep and your nail drags against it softly, idly, as you consider your next move. He stares at you wordlessly, anticipating what's next. He might not be admitting it through words, but he is entirely enjoying this. He doesn't understand why he'd hear some men complain about feeling their pride sting if they ever let their partners take the lead, if anything, Mydei has never felt more like a king than he does in this moment, all the attention on him as he's practically being worshipped. He feels so powerful, but most importantly, so loved.

You make eye contact with him again, a gentle expression as the friction between your gazes could practically be seen as sparks of electricity. "I love you" he says, breaking the silence but igniting that flickering flame that needed a fuse. You smile, not responding, but instead immediately pushing yourself down to the ground to kneel in front of him, preferring to answer him with more service. He props himself up on his elbows to keep watching you intently, as you wrap your arm around his length again, and bring your lips to it. He's used to gripping your hair when you go down on him, guiding you to the pace he prefers, but this time when he grips he makes no other moves, trusting to let you take the lead entirely how you want to. You won't deny him his pleasure after all, it's you.

At times he has the most random thoughts. Like if the walls are actually thinner than he thinks. Like if anyone on the other end can hear the mighty crown prince moaning out his partner's name. Like if Aglaea's golden threads can even pick stuff like this up, oh no ....

But a jolt of pleasure brings his thoughts back to reality as he redirects his attention back to you.

He isn't ashamed of what he has with you. He's afraid of where it might take him. Of how much he's willing to do for you. He knows every minute spent with you indulging in romance and desires is playing with fire while he's made of gasoline. And he'll burn down to ashes in his most graceless moments when he's bare under your gaze that burns gold into his skin, liquifying his flames into a puddle of adoration for you.

While maintaining eye contact with you, a silent exchange of vulnerability, it spoke an endless capacity. An unspoken sentence of 'Y𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦' ringing loudly in your ears. '𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴'.

You brought out the best out of each other, but simultaneously the ugliest human parts as well. Brought out the honesty he's hid from others and himself, brought out the desires he's kept ignored without caring about the hole they were digging in his soul. Gnawing away at his very being and turning him hollow. Brought out the love he was afraid to ever confront. But he's here now, confronting it and ruling over it's court. And tonight is the summit of Mydei's seemingly pathetic life. The two of you are wrapped up in a galaxy of your sins; summed down to nothing but a constellation of the most raw human desires. Who were the titans to demand worship when they knew nothing of what true religion was. This was a ritual. An exchange of souls. It meant more to Mydei than anything else has. This was raw, this was love. He could live in a reel of this night replaying endlessly forever.

The rest of this cursed world could matter later, to hell with every prophecy that demands his presence, nothing felt more worth experiencing in this moment than your mouth on him and your heat surrounding him and your praises spilling against him and your touch killing him and bringing him to life a thousand times over in this bed.

This was love in it's rawest form, and they can call Phainon the chosen one all they want, but Mydei feels like he's received the greatest blessings this universe has to offer him when he made eye contact with you the first time, and if the black tide was to eventually swallow even the last standing holy city, then to hell with all of it if you'd still be by his side.

[cottonlemonade]

Behind Closed Doors

word count: 1242 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: University AU!Iwaizumi x chubby!Reader

genre: spicy, tad of fluff for cushioning

warnings: mdni

request: Hi! I love your stories!! Could you do lunch, 22 procrastination with iwaizumi please!!! Thank you 😊 || fluffy-spicy, at a party with boyfriend Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi knew better than to question why you pulled him away from the commotion in the common area and dorm hallways to find refuge in his room, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was about more than simply wanting to escape the ruckus of the party. When you had grabbed his hand, you said something about needing his “professional opinion” and with every step, his sinking suspicion that this would not be anything innocent was confirmed. Closing the door behind you, he was gently pushed to sit on the edge of his desk and waited, tense with anticipation. It didn’t seem like you were still mad about earlier, when he may or may not have thrown a bit of a hissy fit about the revealing outfit you chose for the night. All it took from you was a cocked brow for him to immediately regret his possessive outbreak, and he begrudgingly promised to never do it again. You got on your tiptoes to kiss him so… you had forgiven him, right? 

The party beyond the door was in full swing from the sound of it. Music, hoots, and laughter could still be heard, albeit slightly muffled. He swallowed as he admired your plump silhouette in the dark room, the only light coming from the lamp on the other nightstand his roommate once again had forgotten to turn off. The tight little skirt and deep neckline of your top he had commented on a few hours ago were now a godsend when you stepped closer, slotting one of your legs between his. 

“I thought since you are the expert on fashion…”, you began, looking far too sweet to match your actions, “what do you think about this?” 

Soft fingers ran along the collar of your shirt, pulling it a little lower to expose the black lace of your bra. His breathing became shallow. 

“It’s new. I wanna know what you think since you’re so concerned with my wardrobe.”

Your boyfriend held back another apology and instead said in a voice, that still stayed raspy even after clearing his throat, “I might need a closer look first.” 

He leaned forward to set butterfly kisses on your bare skin.

His lips gently brushed over your breasts, your neck, your jaw, before he sweetly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear so he could catch your lobe between his teeth.

The warmth and softness of your body pressed against him, the hot tingles on his lips that never went away since your first ever kiss, and the delicate smell of your perfume made his head spin. He soon felt the familiar pull in his lower abdomen and drew you closer, turning the sweet gentle touches into hungry ones. He craved you now. 

His free hand wandered over your thighs, up to your hips, and down again only to settle on the curve of your ass and when he pressed his lips again to yours he had you smiling into the kiss.

Not long after you slipped your tongue into his open mouth and rolled your hips against him did he start to feel completely drunk. 

You hummed and chuckled when he pushed even closer so he could squeeze as much of you as possible. 

“I need you.”, you whispered through a sigh. You sounded so desperate for him. 

More than anything did he wish he could give you what you wanted, wished he could just lock the door and prove his love until neither of you was able to speak anymore. But the walls were thin, his roommate could return any second and the people outside got increasingly rowdy, so it would not be unlikely for them to mistake his door for theirs.

And so he shook his head, partly to clear his thoughts, clouded heavily by the feeling of your plush thigh, no longer accidentally rubbing against his bulge. 

“If Trashykawa comes back, I’m done for.”, he said half frustrated half apologetic, kissing your collarbone ever so gently.

You frowned, broken from the spell of passion. “He’d tease you about getting laid?”

Iwaizumi shrugged and nodded. “He still gives me shit about that time in the kitchen.”

“We were never caught in the kitchen.”, you said in surprise.

He chuckled, “No, not that. When he caught us making out that one time.”

“He does live a sad existence, doesn't he.”

Your boyfriend shivered a little when your nails tenderly scratched the back of his neck.

“I would be sad, too, if someone else did this to you.”, he murmured, tracing the tip of his tongue just above the lace of your bra.

“Not fair.”, you pouted.

“I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could help you.”

A small protest escaped his lips when you removed yourself from his embrace, leaving him cold and wanting.

Seemingly aimless, you strolled to his bed and let yourself fall into his comfortable sheets. Iwaizumi‘s mouth curled contritely, seeing you stretch so far away from him.

“I really can’t go back out there like this.”, you said quietly, and ran your hand along your body.

He watched in awe as you wiggled out of the little leather skirt and took off the shirt, too, noting with an appreciative grin that your underwear matched. In the next moment, he threw panicked looks at the door. What if someone came in and saw you like this?

Yet, the softest moan brought his attention back to you. He didn’t dare to move or blink, not wanting to miss a thing.

You were lying on your back, one hand between your sinful thighs, teasing yourself.

“Don’t do this to me.”, he begged in a failing voice.

He was sure he stopped breathing altogether when your fingertips slipped into the cups of your bra.

“But it’s so much fun.”, you whispered with a little pant, arching your back, leaning into your own touch as you started to tease your nipples.

As he watched you squirm and gasp, all Iwaizumi could do was try to ignore the roaring in his head and the growing problem in his pants. He should be the one to dip his fingers into you. He should be the one to take off your bra and grab handfuls of your tits and tummy. 

“I’m close…”, you whined, squeezing your legs together and locking eyes with him.

“Cum for me, princess.”, he told you, calmly.

Covering your mouth with one hand to conceal your climax, Iwaizumi watched his gorgeous, daring, evil girlfriend twitch as you came down from your high.

You let out a happy sigh like one might after a refreshing drink and smiled at him through glazed eyes.

“You feeling better now?”, he asked with a smirk.

You gave a small nod.

"You'll be the death of me.", he said defeated, letting his gaze wander over your devilish body, every inch of which he wanted to touch, mark, and worship.

"Come here."

You raised an eyebrow. "What happened to your determination?"

"It watched you play."

You laughed quietly, hiding your face in his pillow with the most adorable giggle, as if you hadn't just driven him to madness.

You got up and took your sweet time returning his sheets to their original state. A gesture he would have considered thoughtful if you wouldn‘t do it in that cursed lace.

Finally, you walk back over, stopping a few inches before him, waiting.

"Could you help me out, pretty girl?"

art: @ikizamade222 on Twitter

a/n: thank you so so much anon for the request and kind words! I’m sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

Also thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for helping me edit! 🫶🏻

[astertimberwolf]

I feel insane (in a good way) because I somehow managed to do this to myself: resolving all of my trauma, with very little to no guidance. Blindfolded. In the dark. With pitfalls sporting spiky bottoms surrounding me on all sides and while balancing myself on a thin thread.

I did fall and survive being impaled several times, where I thought I was done for, for good- each time thinking "this is it, this is how it ends" ...and yet, finding a way to climb back onto the darn thread over and over again. It only cost me like...

(Hold on im gae, tired and counting with limited brain cells and energy)

...16-17 years of my life to get there? Yeah. That's how long ago it's been, since depression hit me hard... All the way up until now.

That's a long-ass time. Over a decade and a half...

...Was it worth it?

Remains to be seen. Depends on how the next couple of years play out.

I hope a healed mind, heart and body will finally give me the chance to thrive- something I've been robbed of for all of my youth... No thanks to my shitty parents and other blood relatives that enabled neglect and abuse. No thanks to all the people who sexually assaulted or groomed me, r*pist included- and definitely no thanks at all to the shitty human beings that bullied me, used me, made fun of me, verbally, emotionally and psychologically tore me down, never gave me the benefit of the doubt, called me the worst names in any book ever written- and betrayed my trust, taking advantage of my ignorance, benevolence and naïvety. Y'all can go f*ck yourselves. I have forgiven very few of you- and only partially when it comes to some of the things you've done to me. Some (people and things), I will never forgive... Karma will return the favor tenfold, don't you f*cking worry.

*takes a deep breath*

Despite the justified rage boiling up inside of me for all the shit that I've had to endure... I know I've done damage as well, some of which permanent. If anything, I want those people to know that 98.5% of the times where that happened, it really wasn't intentional, planned or whatnot. Life is just chaotic- and at times I've snapped where I couldn't take the pain anymore. But I've become a lot stronger, wiser, kinder, better- and I won't show my anger / rage / ugly side if I can help it.

I'm far from perfect. Doubt I'll ever even come close to scraping- or even so much as seeing perfection.

I'm battered, but sharper than ever. Like steel being turned into a sword, hit after hit. I hope the blacksmith of life is happy with their work. They've created a weapon that will cut through anything in its wake- and will hopefully be used to defend rather than offend.

May blood never coat my blade again.

You will patch up all the holes in 2025.

(this isn’t a post about knitting)

[jareaul0ver]

I love you, I'm Sorry

wc: 978 warnings: angsty but a happy ending! pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

A/N: omg im actually posting?? don't get used to this i go back to school soon and probably wont post anything til either spring break or the summer

Two Years Ago

You were pacing around your apartment, waiting for Nika to come over like she said she would.

Nika's been your unofficial girlfriend for a while, but you never put a label on what you had.

But she was leaving for the W soon, and you either wanted all or nothing with her.

A few minutes into your pacing, there was a knock on the door. You walked over and opened it, seeing Nika's smiling face. "You wanted to talk?" She said.

You nodded and invited her in. "Do you want anything to drink? Coffee or tea?"

Nika shook her head and sat down on your couch. "I'm okay, thank you."

A small sigh left your body as you went over and sat down, leaving a bit of space between the two of you just in case everything went south.

"What's this about?" She asked cautiously.

You took a deep breath and leaned back into the couch a little. "You're leaving soon, and-"

"That doesn't mean this has to end, if that's where you're going with this," Nika interjected.

A small frustrated sigh left your lips. "What even is this, Nika? Are we girlfriends? Or just casually fucking?" She stayed silent and you just scoffed. "It's your choice, either we put a label on this, or I'm done."

The last thing Nika wanted was to completely lose you, but she didn't like the ultimatum you were giving her. "That's not fair, I need to focus on basketball-"

"And just lead me on the whole time? Have me thinking we could be something more, even though we never will be?" You tried to keep your voice steady, but it was getting difficult.

She sighed and stood up. "I- I'm sorry, but I can't do this," she said before grabbing her things and walking to the door.

You stood up and watched her. She was so ready to leave, no hesitation. "So that's it then? You're just leaving?"

Nika's jaw twitched and she stared at you for a moment. "I"m sorry," she mumbled before opening the door and leaving, letting it close behind her.

You forced your eyes away from the door and looked out the window, watching the May atmosphere warming up the world, but it felt so cold in your apartment without Nika.

It hadn't been that long since Nika left for the W, and everyone already loved her. She charmed everyone she met, other players, fans, the media.

It's like she trained herself, got lessons on how to be a people person. She never was before. She was always polite, but kept to herself.

Except around you. You always were able to break down her walls and see what was really going on with her, how she really was.

But now you see this people pleaser on TV and social media, and all you can do is complain to your friends about it.

Two Summers from Now

After a while, you had managed to get over Nika. Well, more so over what happened with her.

You'd always have a soft spot for the girl, she saw you and supported you at your worst, and you could never stop loving her because of it.

It was ironic. You were about to head out to Seattle to visit some friends, and Nika was about to get on a plane back to Storrs to see her friends.

At this moment, you broke no contact with her. You sent her a text, hoping she didn't have you blocked, or that she didn't change her number.

You were a little surprised to see an answer from her short after you sent the message. The two of you ended up talking about life, realizing that just maybe, you could be cool with her.

She gave you some advice about Seattle, and you let her know how excited the other UConn girls would be to see her again.

The next few days went by in a blur. You were in Seattle, taking in the scenery, leaning out the window of your hotel and having a drink.

I love you, I'm Sorry

You were still in Seattle. You didn't realize that Nika had messaged your friends, asking what hotel you were at and your room number.

She came back early, and she wanted needed to see you before you left. She wanted to attempt to fix things.

Nika's feelings for you never left. She knew that she reacted badly when you told her what you wanted, and she wasn't sure that she could forgive herself for walking away so easily.

But she at least needed you to know that she still loved you.

At about 10pm that night, there was a knock on your hotel door. You looked over in confusion before getting up from your bed and walking over.

You opened the door, and it was like everything from the past few years came flooding back. "Nika?" You invited her inside. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to say sorry for everything. For the way I reacted back then, I was a dick about it, and you didn't deserver any of it," she said.

You were speechless, so she took it as her que to keep going. "I was the worst, and every time I go for a drive I think about the ones we used to take to clear our heads. I swear, it haunts me-" She cleared her through.

"Nika-" You said, but she cut you off.

"I still love you, I'm sorry." The words fell from her lips so effortlessly, you couldn't help but want to give in and see where it led.

So you did. You caved and rushed up to her, pressing your lips against hers.

It lasted for a few seconds before you rested your forehead against hers. "I love you, and I'm sorry, too."

[puck-luck]

the "slut summer" conversation | beaquinn

notes: no actual smut, but there are references to sex (specifically, beaquinn's first time and squirting). use of generally degrading words for women (slut, whore) but they are not used as insults. this takes place on DAY 7 of stg (chapter 1). now you know how bea originally brings up her "slut summer" to quinn. enjoy! thank you once again to captain (@captainlexaproluvr) for the request ;)

WC: 2,193

––––––––––

“Said she wanted five guys, she ain’t talking ‘bout burgers,” Trevor says under his breath, shooting Bea a glare. He’s awfully slut-shamey for someone who wants to have sex with Honey so bad.

Bea pays him no mind. She smiles and replies sweetly, “My pussy already got murdered, Trev. I didn’t need five guys.” The fact that she wants four– and already checked one off the list– is irrelevant. She actually needs to have that talk with Quinn today, to get ahead of things. She doesn’t want him to feel blindsided when she flirts with Jack, Luke, or Cole. As much as she’s dreading it, Bea knows it has to be done. 

“No way Quinn ‘murdered’ your pussy, Bea,” Jack jumps in, air quotes around the word. “The dude doesn’t fuck.”

Bea laughs. “I assure you, he fucks.”

Speak of the Devil– Quinn appears at the bottom of the stairs, making his way into the kitchen. “Yeah, I fuck,” he says. He comes over to Bea first, smoothing a hand over her hair and dropping a kiss on the top of her head before he heads toward the kitchen. He shoulders past Trevor to get to the fridge.

Oh, she wishes he hadn’t kissed the top of her head like that. She might’ve miscalculated. He might be attached already. 

“Well, fuck your way to church,” Jack says. “Bea’s making everyone go with her.”

Quinn’s eyes flicker over to Bea again, an amused smile on his face. He shrugs. “Okay,” he says. “It’s not like there’s anything else for us to do on a Sunday morning in this place. Everything is probably closed.”

“It’s true, everything is closed on Sundays except the grocery store and the gas station,” Bea verifies with a nod. She’s not quite sure how Quinn managed to peg the town in less than a week, but it probably wasn’t very difficult. Litchton is sleepy and small and isolated– of course everything is closed on Sundays. She adds, “And the church, of course.”

Trevor finds his way to the fridge. 

“Why can’t we just stay here?” Jack asks.

“Because it’ll be fun,” Trevor replies, turning and clapping Jack on the shoulder. He even squeezes Jack’s muscles just to be a pest. “It’s our chance to become one with the community, Jacky.”

Well, that and he’s probably wondering if a certain girl will be there. Bea can’t blame him for assuming. The church is a huge thing in this town, it just so happens that Honey is one of the few people in the area that only go when they’re asked to. She has a really complicated relationship with God– Bea knows that better than anyone. “Yeah, Jacky, it’ll be good for you. Why don’t you two head upstairs to change?” She looks over to Quinn, who is grabbing a glass from one of the upper shelves of the cabinets. His t-shirt is riding up, revealing the soft skin of his abdomen. Ugh. Bea can’t believe she has to have this conversation. She hopes, if nothing else, that she doesn’t cry. Quinn can even yell at her– Bea just doesn’t want to cry. “I want to chit-chat with Quinn for a second.”

Trevor and Jack race upstairs, always competing. Bea can hear them pushing each other until they reach the landing, then slamming their bedroom doors shut.

Bea stands and walks over to the counter, taking a seat on one of the stools. 

Quinn is filling his glass with water, but he meets her eyes when he’s done and smiles. “Good morning, Bea.”

“Good morning, Quinn,” Bea plays along. She’s not sure how to do this. She’s never had to tell someone that she wants to hook up with his two brothers and one of his closest friends before. If only there was a good line that everyone knows– an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ for Slut Summers. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure,” Quinn replies, taking a swig of his water. “What’s up?”

“It’s about last night,” Bea says, trying to tiptoe around the subject without digging herself too far into a hole. If she doesn’t bring it up now, she’ll be leading him on. Or, honestly, maybe not– maybe Quinn was looking for a one night stand. If that was the case, why would he kiss her on the head when he came downstairs this morning?

Quinn pulls his eyebrows together, his face growing more serious. “What about last night? It was okay, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, my God, no, you were great,” Bea says. “I wasn’t lying when I said you fuck.”

Quinn’s serious expression softens. “Okay,” he says. “Then what is it?”

“I had a lot of fun,” Bea tells him. “I just– well, I need to be upfront with you.”

Quinn takes another sip of his water and gestures for her to continue.

Bea takes a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about this summer, okay? I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want, especially when it comes to you guys, and I’ve decided that I’m not looking for anything, like, serious right now.”

The corners of Quinn’s lips turn up. “Okay, so you’re looking for hookups,” he says. “That’s actually what I was going to ask you. I was a little disappointed when you weren’t in bed this morning, I wanted to talk to you about what I want, too.”

“Oh?” Bea asks. That’s promising– he’s smiling about the fact that she wants to hook up, and he was already planning to ask her about it. “Um, I mean– it’s complicated, what I want, so maybe you should go first.”

Because then she can know what he wants and act accordingly… it’s a path that’ll save her from taking the wrong step before things even really start. Bea’s playing it graciously, but really, the offer to let Quinn go first is very selfish. She doesn’t like being selfish, but she really doesn’t want to hurt his feelings right after they slept together and had a great time doing so.

“That’s really kind of you,” Quinn says with a chuckle. “Very thoughtful, Bea. But… you started this thing. I want you to get whatever it is off your mind.”

Damn him for being so logical. Maybe she should’ve stayed in bed and let him talk first, so that she could have an out. There’s so much pressure here, being the one to reveal the dynamic that they want, especially when hers is so… abnormal.

“Okay,” Bea says slowly, trying to find the best words to string together without sounding like a total whore. She doesn’t want Quinn to think she’s disgusting– she’s not sure why he would, or why she cares so much, but she would probably curl up into a ball and die if he started judging her. “Um, for me, this summer is about… experiencing things… with different people.” She speaks slowly, watching his reaction, but his face is impassive. “I don’t want to put all of my eggs in one basket, if you… get what I’m saying.” She presses her lips together in a line and waits.

Quinn raises an eyebrow. When he speaks, he sounds a little surprised, but not angry. “So you want to… see other people?”

Bea nods tentatively. 

“Anyone you have in mind?” Quinn asks. 

Bea’s pretty sure he’s already figured out the people that she wants to see. She bares her teeth to him in an awkward smile, bracing herself for the anger. If it’s coming, it’s coming now.

Quinn sets his glass down on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest, bending down so his elbows rest on the counter. “Like who?” he asks.

Bea licks over her bottom lip and bites it, grimacing slightly. “Litchton isn’t a big town, and there aren’t many attractive men here that I haven’t already considered,” she says. “So… when Honey told me there was a group of guys living here this summer… I thought it might be interesting to… partake.” 

Quinn nods along with her words, but doesn’t speak, seeming to sense that she’s not done.

“And it’s not that I’m not very interested in you, Quinn. You’re– well, you’ve got a magic cock and I am very happy that you were the first one, but I would feel like I missed out if I didn’t explore my options in the house. How many chances does a girl get to have a Slut Summer with a houseful of attractive athletes?” Maybe she goes too far with that last sentence.

“And you want… all of us?” Quinn asks after a beat of silence.

“Not Trevor,” Bea says. “I’m not exactly interested in, uh… all of that.”

She’s lucky, because Quinn laughs softly instead of frowning at her negative perception of one of his best friends. He stands tall and lets his arms fall to his sides, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Okay,” Quinn says. “But I don’t want to know anything about what you do with Jack and Luke. They’re my brothers. I don’t want to think about them like that. I already know too much. As long as you keep us separate, it’s fine with me.”

“Really?” Bea asks. “You’re not… angry?”

“Why would I be angry?” Quinn asks. “It’s not like I have a claim on you. We hooked up last night, but that’s it. We had fun. I’m not going to stop you from exploring your options.” He pauses. “Although, I would like to hook up again.”

“Me too,” Bea agrees quickly. “I want– yes, I want to keep hooking up with you. It was really good, Q. I literally thought I was going to squirt or something when I was on top.”

Quinn’s eyes brighten. “Oh, yeah?” He grins crookedly. “Tell me more about that.”

Bea blushes and pushes her index finger against her nose, covering her mouth slightly. “Maybe not right now,” she says. “But I’d be happy to… try and make that happen later, if you want.” She shrugs, pinching her lips together to try and stop a smile from growing on her face. She’s just found something Quinn seems to like. She wants to use that to her advantage.

Quinn nods, looking thoughtful. “I think we could make something like that happen.”

Bea laughs, which makes Quinn laugh, and it takes them a moment to collect themselves. Bea feels loose and relieved, glad that Quinn isn’t screaming at her or judging her or kicking her out of the house and banning her from ever returning.

After they calm down, Bea leans forward a bit. “So, what were you thinking? This morning, I mean. What were you going to ask me?”

“I was going to ask if you were looking for anything serious,” Quinn replies, a little smile still gracing his face. “Without saying too much, I, uh, got out of a relationship recently. She and I were together for a long time and I wanted to let you know that I don’t think I’m ready to, y’know, rush into anything.” 

Well, if that’s not interesting. She’s not going to push, but Bea wants to know more immediately. She loves gossip, loves knowing people’s business, but she’s sure she’ll get plenty of openings to ask Quinn about this relationship over the summer, if he’s willing to share. 

“I want to keep hooking up with you,” Quinn continues. “Because I am ‘very interested’ in you, too. You’re the most interesting thing going on around here, Bea. I think we could be really good friends.”

Bea grins. “I think so, too. You might be hyping me up too much, though. I’m not that interesting.”

Quinn snorts out a laugh. “Whatever you say.”

A quick silence passes between them. Footsteps start to sound overhead– one of the boys must be done changing. 

“Look, I’m really glad you’re not upset,” Bea tells Quinn quickly, before they’re interrupted. “I didn’t want to mess things up so soon.”

“Don’t worry about me, baby,” Quinn teases, using the same tone on the word ‘baby’ as he did the night before. He’s teasing her, messing with her like they know each other well enough to do so. It’s refreshing. “I think if this had happened when I was younger, I wouldn’t have taken it so well. I probably would’ve… I don’t know, agreed? But I would’ve been miserable the whole time?” He laughs, although Bea doesn’t find that very funny, and continues, “But it’s just a summer, right? I don’t mind sharing you with the other guys. I’m just glad you told me. It would be a different story if you started having your Slut Summer without telling any of us.”

“Yeah,” Bea replies, smiling wide. Quinn gets it. He understands. Bea feels a little silly– she was worried for nothing. She nods, hearing someone’s feet pound against the steps, making their way back to the kitchen. “It’s just a summer. Let’s have fun.”

Quinn returns her smile and goes back to his food, just in time for Jack to enter the room at a sprint. He looks around wildly, then raises a fist. “Dude, let’s fucking go, I win!”

––––––––––

i love u forever beaquinn but u guys were so stupid for saying you'd be "casual" and "good friends"

[caledine]

Types of whumpees in a team

( This is just a few, lmk if you can think of more c:<)

Youngest teammate Whumpee

You get your reckless and brash whumpees who’d who’d do anything to prove themselves

Unknowledgeable new to the field

“ I can do it, on my own.”

Angry and defiant till their hurt

Trying to act tough but just people pleasers

Being left behind for ‘safety’ and probably the easiest to break

“ it’s for your own good Whumpee. It’s not safe out there.” queue them getting captured from said place that’s deemed safe

Stupid plans?? Youngest learns just how bad not thinking things through results in

Doing things due to pure peer pressure

A go to hostage since team would fight tooth and nail to get them back (?)

Always doing busywork and never on the field

“ I have done everything from making coffee to doing your laundry— How is this hero work? “

Being deemed not strong enough

Medic/ Doctor whumpees

Either stoic or overly doting

Exhausted from caring to much

Just exhaustion whump in general !!

Always the caretaker and never taken care of

Full ER / too many patients

Natural disaster or a horrible fight leaving them swamped with injured teammates ( maybe they’re hurt too)

“ I know everyone’s hurt— hold on i need a second…”

Getting hurt and knowing just how doomed they are

Using all the good supplies on the team and leaving themselves with ‘alternatives’

Trying to talk other members through healing themself, knowing if they faint they are as good as dead

Does your Medic snap?

“ How many times have i told you to be more careful?! every single time your in my office you’ve brushed death again—“ ( Angry or worried?)

Stitching themself up because they think they have the knowledge to keep themselves healthy too ( knowledge ≠ strength to save themselves )

Second in command/ Right hand ( Could be a sidekick?) Whumpee

A glorified PA juggling all the ‘less important’ tasks or running errands

Never getting the authority / leadership they want over the team

Always picking up everyone else’s slack

Paperwork and all the busywork and never getting the full credit

Sometimes people are too tired to be nice

Snappy, defiant and never backing down

Always trying to one up other team members or get recognition or affirmation because they never seem to get credit

Stuck in Leader’s shadow

The moment Leader is out everyone expects them to know what to do

“ I don’t know— Leader never let me have any say-?”

Loyal beyond fault ( too much so) maybe they let people be dicks just because they’re teammates

Too forgiving

Maybe Leader sticks the blame on them for failed missions

the perfect stoic whumpee 🌟

Leader Whumpee

Exhaustion, overworking, passing out , thugging through sickness — Leaders normally the one who checks in on people, but who checks in on them?

Putting themselves last

Guilt of failed missions, maybe blame from other teammates

Trying to guide the team while injured ( concussions 😌)

Never really being part of the team just there to keep themselves healthy too in check

Breaking under pressure

Survivors guilt

Being replaced

Leader being held hostage because the team would be in shambles without them

Humiliation— make the team stop believing in them

Self sacrifice

“ I’m sorry i know it’s my responsibility…”

Struggling to ask for help because they’re scared the team won’t come to them

Their life revolves around keeping their team safe, too selfless

The team just expecting them to know what to do

Trying to juggle looking after the team with Hero work

Doing all the chores, being expected to do the most and be selfless

Their higher ups see their overworking as a good thing and feed into it

Everyone just always assumes they’re fine because pfftt they’re Leader of course they’re fine!!

Stoic but pathetic ejenkeosos

Sighhh i just adore team whump. I could always go on about this because the amount of possibilities are near endless. Give me complex relationships between characters!! Make your whumpees suffer while no one around them bats an eye, toxic team dynamics suck but the whump around them… Found family but make it hurt comfort!!

[socialpants]

Tiktok already has a hyper sensitive location filter. It took me a while, as a user from Finland, to start seeing non-Finnish content, and if I took a few days off, that content filter seemed to reset. The content I made also didn't seem to reach people outside of Finland, and Tiktok does specifically say in some introduction text that they emphasize your local audience.

If they wanted to restrict content completely they could do that, however, I don't think this situation is really headed that way.

There are 2 options for how fascist this gets and both are bad: #1 is a forced partial sale. Someone flashed 50% stock sale (to Elon, but Zuck and Bezos are hardly out of the picture), but that's just a number. The actual number could be 5% or 20%. It doesn't really matter, because with this option the goal is to give the illusion of having done The Thing I Promised. It doesn't need to be a controlling share portion. The spin will be that a sale is made and control secured and yay America see Trump daddy did the thing. Tiktok has already done a deal with Trump personally (Idk if we'll ever get to know about the extent of personal deals and money sums) so they continue operating according to how he likes, but knowing him, this is going to be actually what the Heritage Foundation likes. He has no preference other than himself.

Option #2 is"special leniency" that's extended over and over and over again until the initial ban can be legally/officially overturned. Tiktok continues operating as per usual with special considerations to what Trump likes, as in what oligarchs and despots and other similar ghouls want. No sale is ever forced. And there's no need, because they paid for the president and the president accepted payment. They may have to pay for the president again later on, depending on how long he's in the office.

Zuck may not be happy with Tiktok, but no one's asking him what he wants right now. Can he provide personal wealth to Trump? Then Trump will listen. If Zuck can't top what Tiktok and China is providing him, Zuck will just have to suck it up and share. These people aren't friend. They're frenemies with the goal of controlling all the money and staying untouchable.

Excuse the rambling and if this derailed a good conversations. I haven't slept in a few days and am tired and angry.

[llitchilitchi]

blog update? vent? what I wanna do going forward? this is long and ranty

I am not going anywhere, please remain calm :)

so this has been on my mind for the better part of a year now, if not longer. I don't think it's a secret or a shock to anyone that I am barely engaging in mcyt-related fandoms, even more so when it comes to creators. the community has for a large part transformed into something that I don't want to necessarily be a part of.

I am saddened at what has become of the CCs that I liked and found comfort in back during lockdown. I don't want to delve into any of the things that have happened over the last few weeks, much less months and years - I made it a rule for myself to not keep up with "drama" (I genuinely hate the word. a lot of it is pointless bickering and people being stupid and vile over small things that could have been solved privately, or people attacking others for no reason, and those that do not fit under the "people are stupid" umbrella are matters far too serious to be labelled as drama or discourse) and I try to not comment on it much. I can't help the two posts from time to time but the truth is, seeing discourse on my dash for days on end is wearing me down. and it often feels like that is all there is going on anymore.

as of, this is not me denouncing my love for dream and the dream team, or their friends and supporters, much less the fan community around them. there are many kind people who I cherish and I am grateful that they welcomed me in and shared my art and talked to me about it. these comments and conversations mean more to me than you could ever imagine. I've forged friendships here that I never could have dreamed of. I've never felt so comfortable in a fandom before and I don't think I will ever fully leave it behind.

that being said, I also doubt that I will be posting too much about anything mcyt-related. I haven't really been doing anything for the fandom anyways, not really. I enjoy the fan projects, and I am very grateful that I managed to get on the c!Dream zine as an artist, and I am looking forward to sharing that piece with you guys! it's one of my favourites that I've ever done, so look forward to that, and go support the project if you can! but to post only when it's related to projects feels a little insincere.

I am mostly writing this because there were a couple more projects that popped up, and I hesitate to join. not only because my involvement with the fandom is miniscule, but also because I feel a little worn and tired and gross about everything that has gone down. and I dread that by the time I get to actually work on a piece, the exhaustion and resignation will turn into distaste and unwillingness to do anything.

I still want to support artists and writers in the fandom. I will continue reblogging stuff, maybe even post some of my own (I have been itching to do a small illustration for monarchy again, but I've been incredibly busy, so don't get excited), but for the most part I think I'll be slowly turning towards other fandoms and original content. oh yeah, I there are OCs incoming.

I miss this fandom, and the community, and every good thing that came with it, but it does not feel sincere to keep engaging too much. I will likely stick to DSMP for the most part, if I will stay in the fandom at all. the real people around it just make me sad.

I don't have a conclusion to offer. no tl;dr. I wanted to get this off my chest. my feelings about everything going on are complicated at best. there's a yearning to come back and a revulsion at what many of the CCs are doing that keeps me away. a yearning for the excitement and love I felt once. maybe it'll come back. for now I just want things to calm down and if that isn't possible here, I will be minding my own business. so if you see me posting about Things at Inappropriate Times, do know that I simply do not wish to engage in the bad anymore.

[pollux-starsz]

As always, dca slasher au belongs to @wyervan ! Check them out!💖💕

BRIGHT COLORS, EYESTRAIN under the cut.

do you see the vision of them all on the phone together

i was maaayyyybbeee listening to jack stauber's "baby hotline" while making this

Part of me wishes Moon's hair turned out a bit better but I didn't feel like fixing it last minute💔

Rambles!!

- Hear me out but I have this vision of them in a dress while she's in a suit and then she's just checking them out the entire time. Can you blame her, have you SEEN Moon in a dress. And the chest hair? Yeah, she's definitely checking them out.

- Sun intentionally doesn't have the entire phone showing because he's unaware that Moon and Kalamela have spoken about her knowledge on the killings. (In a sense, he never calls at the wrong time. Always after they've finished talking about it!)

Adding onto that, I oh-so excitedly want to talk more about that so hear we go! Moon found out that she knew about 4ish months into knowing her, it was after he'd found her in the back of the restaurant, drunk out her mind after 7 overtime shifts in a row. She just ended up saying how she knew everything but didn't want them to get into more trouble since they were nice to her. And not a lot of people were nice and stayed for so long! To her, 4 months felt like 4 years. They would talk over the phone afterwards and he'd always check in to "make sure she's okay", which he was! But it was also to make sure she didn't tell anyone or did anything to rat them out. Sun isn't aware because Moon doesn't think it's any of his business what the two of them talk about together. Not that she'd ever rat them out, she isn't getting herself killed over that!

- TW: Mentions of substance abuse for this one.

Kalamela has a history of drug abuse, and she does still use sometimes. But she's been trying to go clean ever since Ethan's dad didn't feel like being a huge part of the picture. Even better that the biological mother couldn't care for him either. She'd often use until she could barely think straight. The first 3 months in knowing the boys she'd still been using, but after Sun caught her, the two of them forced her into rehab and since then she's been clean. Ever since the two found out about Ethan, they'd been more strict about checking in on her, whether she likes it or not. Sun's more worried that Ethan might be affected if she ends up using again, and yes, so Moon! She's just scared that they'd abandon her, Ethan would be taken away and she'd most likely be killed off because of it. Whether she's hurt the kid or not. For the most part, her and Moon made a deal to go on a walk any time she felt the urge to use again. And if they couldn't go for a walk, like if it was raining or if he was closing for the night instead, she'd paint or sculpt. The original concept for this drabble of lore was way darker and I did NOT need or want my colorful girl to just be killed off so I had to make it better and have them try to offer help so she'd stay clean =')

- She took them to an expensive, and I mean EXPENSIVE, restaurant that was a few ways away from the Arcade (opposite way to Crystal Cove, where she works), and she spoiled them shitless. And out of the blue, so Moon asked what was up and she said she wanted to do something special for them because they've done so much for her. And she didn't have enough time off of work to do something more proper so she thought food would be the best option because they like going out to eat. Her love language is physical affection but when she feels like that isn't enough, she resorts to gifts and outings and anything else that may be entertaining to them!

- I like to think that the way she confessed was just Sun and Moon staring at her quietly as she stutters and tries to word it as best as possible while also trying to explain that she likes both of them and would love if it worked out between all three of them but it's just the boys trying to decipher a bunch of "Uh, um, uhm, uhn, mm, hmm" and random words because she's freaking out. They did, in the end, figure out what she was saying! Now did they accept her confession and say they like her back?! I don't know, I didn't get that far in my head yet. You share your thoughts on that💔

- I always imagined her being badass and driving up on her motorcycle to pick the boys up and they just stare in awe because she's so fucking cool. Like yes that's their cool motorcycle chick colorful sweet as candy girlfriend let them admire her!!!!

- For the two of them, they all have their own ways of having a moment. For Moon, she knows he likes to be held since she likes it too. They both have some kind of urge to be held and cradled due to some sort of either a past experience or its just a feeling. Moon likes to be held more than when he holds her but it's also a nice feeling to know someone feels safe in your arms, right? For Sun, she likes to just let him go on and on about his day, something he likes and he does the same for her! Just two pretty ladies chilling and rambling each others ears off while holding hands and sharing a drink!

end of rambles for 2nite🎉🎉

[baejl]

#1 fan

twice 10th member au

jade surprises MiSaMo during their promotion

masterlist 👽 requests are open feedback is awalys important to me!

“Do I look good?” Jade asked the staff, laughing only by seeing herself in the mirror. 

Fully dressed in the MiSaMo merch, Jade looked like a truly MiSaMo maniac. The managers even managed to get her a headband with the unit’s name written in a rose gold style. 

It was MiSaMo’s concert at the Japan Dome and, being one of their producers - a request that came from the girls themselves - she was able to watch, closely, her members working their best to make it possible while also preparing for TWICE’s comebacks. 

Mina asked Jade a few weeks ago if she could go and watch the concert, but she wanted to surprise them, so she told Sana that ‘maybe, I don’t know’, and she had never seen Mina so sad like that day. Jade didn’t even tell the other members about this surprise, so nothing could go wrong.  

The plan was simple: she’d dress as a fan and ‘invade’ the stage, trying to take pictures with the girls and even make them sign a board the staff had prepared. Luckily, they hadn’t seen her with her new hair color yet, so that should work perfectly with the mask on her face. 

Ironically enough, she had booked a room in the same hotel as the girls, just to make it even funnier. 

“I think they’d freak out.” Jade’s manager said, also laughing.

“Poor Sana…” another staff member chuckled . “She’s going to be so scared.” 

From backstage, Jade could listen to the whole concert and, to prevent the girls from catching her during the outfit changes, she’d hide in the equipaments room. Luckily, it was almost time to put her plane to action. 

After taking some pictures to roast the girls later, ‘Baby I’m Good’ was coming to the end and she headed to the wings of the stage, her heart racing with anticipation. Holding the board written ‘MiSaMo Marry Me’, she waited for their manager's signal. 

As the girls composed themselves to start the encore, the manager gave her a quick nod, signaling it was time. Jade held up the board and slipped onto the stage, running and screaming, like many fans she had seen doing. 

The crowd erupted into confused murmurs and scattered cheers as people began to notice the figure moving toward the trio.

“MINA! SANA! MOMO!” Jade screamed, running down the stage.

Momo was the first to spot the ‘fan’. Her jaw dropped, and she froze mid-step, her mic lowering slightly, as she looked around confused. Sana turned next, her eyes widening in disbelief. Mina, ever the composed one, blinked in surprise. 

“Please, sign this to me!” Jade said in japanese, even handing them a pen. 

Momo froze, trying to understand what was happening while Jade hugged her multiple time, doing the same to Sana and Mina. 

“Wait!” Mina said, getting closer to Jade, looking her straight in the eyes. “Jade-ssi?” 

“No way!” Sana groaned, her nervous smile turning into a surprise one. 

Jade took her mask off, revealing her face to the entire dome. The crowd’s confusion turned into deafening cheers as they realized who it was. The three girls shouted in union, hugging Jade as she laughed out loud. 

“I can’t believe it!” Momo said in korean. “You fooled us!” 

In the meantime, a staff member headed Jade a mic. 

“Security was so bad, I couldn’t resist.” Jade joked. 

Sana, unable to contain her excitement, hugged Jade once again. “What are you doing here? You didn’t tell us! And this hair?!” 

“I didn’t tell anyone, actually.” Jade explained. 

The trio laughed. Of course, she didn’t. 

As the cheering subsided, Momo grabbed a mic, her voice still tinged with laughter.

“Guys, you probably know this already, but Jade isn’t just our fellow TWICE member, she’s also one of the producers of this unit.” she told the fans that went insane once again. “She worked so hard on the songs you’re hearing tonight, and we couldn’t have done it without her.” 

“Ya,” Jade said, taking the headband off. “this isn’t for me, though. I came to surprise you.” 

The fans laughed. Sana chimed in, her eyes sparkling. 

“That’s right, ONCE! She poured her heart into every note, beat, and made sure everything was perfect. Jade-yah,” she looked at Jade, who shook her head, as a sign for Sana to stop. “thank you for believing in us and helping us create something so special.” 

Mina got closer as well, rubbing Jade’s back. 

“Producing for your own members isn’t easy, but Jade has been making it with so much care and love. We’re so lucky to have her, not just as a producer but as a friend. Let’s all give her a huge round of applause!” 

The audience didn’t hesitate, their cheers reaching deafening levels as Jade stood awkwardly, scratching the back of her head but clearly moved by the gesture.

As the atmosphere shifted from emotional to celebratory, Sana grabbed Jade’s hand. “You’re not getting off that easy,” she said with a grin. “You’re performing the next song with us!”

Jade’s eyes widened in mock horror. “I didn’t sign up for this!”

But there was no escaping it. Before she knew it, Momo and Mina had dragged her into position as the opening notes of New Look played. The choreography was second nature to Jade, who had been involved in its creation, and despite her initial protests, she quickly fell into step with the girls.

The sight of Jade dancing alongside MiSaMo sent the crowd into a frenzy. Fans chanted her name, waving their lightsticks even harder as the four women shared the stage in a joyous, impromptu performance.

But, the second the song was over, Jade hugged the girls, quickly running off the stage before they made her do anything else, making the fans cheer and laugh at the same time. 

The moment she got backstage, she high-fived the managers. 

“Mission accomplished.” 

[zorilleerrant]

"You consider me your priestess?" the girl - the old woman, now, but you can still see her rosy cheeks the first time she came to visit you - asks you. It's hard to determine her tone of voice. She doesn't sound offended, at least, although she also doesn't sound like she believes you're a god. That, at least, is expected.

You wave your hand vaguely. You didn't get the gesture quite right, but humans always change their body language, and it's been too long since you needed to be human for anything. "It's not that you are. But you're the closest I've had in generations, and I would mark you one, if you want me to." You sit, casually, on a bench that wasn't there a moment before, hoping she'll do the same.

The old woman eyes it suspiciously. She's been here for every birthday since she found the place, and many informal days besides, and she knows there was never a bench here. Still, with a weary sigh, she sits beside you. "I'd like that, I think. I never had the test scores to join any of the big priesthoods. Get one over on them, a little bit." She laughs, and her teen years, writing scathing takedowns of theological papers, come back into view for a moment.

You touch her hand. There's a spark of magic. You don't need to, you never used to, but humans are more skeptical these days, and even your most devoted follower doesn't remember the old ways.

For a moment fleeting even by her standards, you wonder if she might have brought them back. But the fishing town isn't what it once was, and no one much makes the hike up here anymore, save curious children and nostalgic adults.

"Do you want me to do anything?" your priestess asks you, a wry smiling wrinkling the still plump curve of her cheeks. "Carry a sign, maybe? Rush into the town and curse their names for not giving you your due respect? I can do a mean scolding these days."

You laugh, hand still resting over hers. "If you like." The idea of her running among the fishmongers, giving over amulets with every sale, making rude gestures when they're refused, is incomparable. The only thing she really needs is The Book, though. You fold open your altar, the way she's done so many times, and bring out the box she admired enough to start polishing gently when she came to visit, telling you about her travels and her art.

"Oh, you again," your priestess says, in delight, laying a delicate hand on the smooth wood. "I learned woodworking and inlay because of you, you little scamp." When she draws her fingers down the sides, this time, the box opens, with a click she can barely hear. Her ears aren't what they once were. Her gasp is the same as it ever was, though, and she taps The Book reverently.

"I never had many rules, even back in the beginning," you tell her, opening the cover so she knows it's safe. "What ones I had don't matter so much, I think - although I'd ask you to be careful where you summon storms, if you try it." You don't know if she has the power for that, anymore. She delved deep into magic in her mid-life crisis, but you've rarely seen her use it since, and you don't know if hers has waned or blossomed in her twilight years.

She looks over the spells. She can read the annotations, still, at least. "It's a lot of power for one person." She flexes her fingers, summoning wisps of what might be the core of some major working, if she concentrated a little harder. "Would you mind if I taught these to people? Not to join your priesthood, mind, just so there could be a little more magic in the world."

You pause. You should have considered that. Many of your siblings have left their words and their magics to the world as their respect faded away, and even more have begun recovery as lost arts. You didn't know your priestess was a teacher. You knew she'd taught a few times, when the calling struck her, but never that she felt the need in her heart. "Of course," you say. The spells are mostly weak now, you think. The time for hiding them is long past. If there's something in there that can help, so be it.

She grins at you. Her teeth are still hardy, and the candlelight flashes pleasingly against them. "Of course you'd mind, or of course you wouldn't? Don't give me any loopholes, now, Your Divinity," she laughs at her own joke, the way she started doing when she broke free of childish attempts at maturity, but still, she waits for your answer, taking your hand in hers again.

"Share them however you'd like," you tell her, knowing that it means she'll record it down to scans and recreations, "the knowledge within is yours." It's clear she'll get years of delight out of it. You don't know how much she might change the world of the handful of enthusiasts she chooses to work with her. It's a nice bookend for a life full of adventure, you think, a discovery like that.

She kisses the book, gently, on the gilded cover. Then, almost as an afterthought, she kisses your cheek as well. "Thank you," she says. Then she opens it again, absorbed in the pages, well past when the evening grows dark. You keep the candles burning higher for her, so she never has to stop her perusal. It's soothing, to watch a priestess once again hard at work. She looks up. "Is this the gift?"

"What?" you ask, caught off guard. Even through all your disciples, you never managed to learn which times connect to each other in the mind of a human. You'd thought that question long forgotten, and hadn't planned on answering right now.

"The gift you said you wanted to give me. Is The Book the gift?" she asks, in confusion. Books are wonderful, powerful things, of course, but they aren't secret. Hidden, often, and protected, and sometimes held to only the most intimate of worshipers, but they're nothing unexpected, not for a deity to give.

You lean back on the bench you never rose from, and wonder if you should bring in desks for those she plans to teach. "No. I was going to offer you your choice of afterlife, when the time comes." You watch her as she frowns. You wonder if she already has an answer in mind. You wonder if she knew since she was knee high with a scraped arm, or since she was a teenager bent on escaping her classmates, or since she was learning to grow and just choosing her passion. She just looks at you, not answering.

Then, weary minutes later - weary for her, where each night brings aches the day didn't; you're happy to wait - she asks, almost rudely, "not soon, I hope?" Her chin juts out as it used to.

"Not so soon for you," you say, thoughtfully, "although too soon for me, I must admit."

She nods, still cradling The Book carefully. "I thought, once you'd made me your priestess, I'd end up going where all your servants go," she says, sounding, of all thing, patient about it. You don't know how much she knows about your afterlife. You've never discussed it with her. Even when you were popular, once, that was never much of the details that caught people's eye.

"Normally only monks go there," you say, not that you'd discourage her, if she wanted to stay always by your side. "It's a place for quiet contemplation, mostly. Even of my priesthood, only the ones who valued their silence ever stayed." You can see her, in a long gown, roaming the halls in a circle, thinking. You can't see her enjoying it for more than a short time.

"You'd have to send me away," she says, ruefully. Then she pauses to think. "You won't pick for me? I can pick?"

Still, you think, she might have you picking her home, anyway. So many of yours did. Even the ones who earned the highest honors left everything in your hands, and here she is a priestess of moments only, ready to upset everything. Or nothing, if you ask her not to. You close her hands around The Book again.

"Think on it," you say, and wait for next year.

While other god's shrines are magnificent, yours is a bit too humbling. And yet a little girl visits you every year after stumbling upon it, never missing a year even as she grows old. Deeply moved, you decide to give her a parting gift greater than what any other God would dare to give.

[lisannastraussisanangel]

Do you have any darker/sadder fairy tail headcanons?

(Trigger Warnings for Homophobia and Suicide)

Some of mine include:

The Strauss’s parents are still alive, but they were part of the crowd that turned on Mira. Elfman and Lisanna ran away to stay with her.

Fried was raised in a high society family, but was disowned after coming out to them.

Gray did attempt suicide once when he was a teenager. A few months later when Lisanna “died”, he saw what that did to everyone else in the guild and swore to never try it again. It took something as extreme as what happened on Galuna to push him past that edge again.

Like Medusa, Evergreen’s stone eyes were actually a curse. She hated herself for them until she met Fried and Bickslow and saw what they could do with their eye magic.

I'm a big fan of sad/dark headcanons. I really like those! Especially the Strauss one. Imagine the parents being the first to turn on them and the heartbreak they went through

Let's see what I can come up with...

Dark themes below

As much as Erza tries, she hasn't fully forgiven Jellal. Sometimes she'll have flashbacks to what he did while their alone and has to fight it down. She loves him and trusts him, but part of her will always fear him (he's noticed these random moments and it kills him)

Similarly, Lisanna flinches when Elfman lifts his hands. Everytime she thinks he's going to hit her like he did all those years ago. At first it was just when he was using his takeover but now it's all the time. She doesn't know why it's getting worse

Juvia was sexually abused when she first joined Phantom Lord. She trained hard to protect herself and that's how she became S-Class. It was all about survival

Natsu self harms. He doesn't realize he's doing it because it's not the 'usual' methods. One of the main things he does is shred his skin with his nails/claws. He plays it off as training injuries

A lot of the women cannot have children or have really hard pregnancies because of all the injuries they've sustained. Specifically Juvia, Erza, Kagura, and Ultear cannot have kids. Levy, Lucy, Minerva, and Kinana would have very complicated pregnancies

All of the children of the tower of heaven have a hard time taking jobs that require construction. The PTSD of being slaves will never leave them. A lot of them actually can't do any building at all without having breakdowns. (This is why Erza takes on a leader role when rebuilding the guild. She wants it done as fast as possible to minimize the chance of having an episode)

Wendy's fear of abandonment is way worse than she lets on. She has nightmares constantly about the entire guild disappearing again, her friends dying, or worse. When people go on long jobs, she often gets antsy and needs to be reminded that they will return and are safe. Carla can barely leave her side most days

[tgmsunmontue]

A picture is worth 1000 words - 4/?

Hangster post-TGM events, Jake and Bradley becoming friends on Instagram through increasingly competitive thirst traps.

ONE TWO THREE

                Jake still isn’t quite sure what the deal is with Rooster, but while he’s posting a few times a day now, there isn’t a single selfie or shot even with people in the slew of new photos Rooster has posted. He wonders if he should try and somehow ask for one, not sure how it would come off. Not sure why he cares. If his suspicions are right then Phoenix has done a fine job of curating a decent archive of pictures of Rooster, and that’s fine, but Jake wouldn’t mind… well.

                Maybe Rooster trying to get his attention?

                He doesn’t need to know he’s already got it.

                Regardless he taps out a request for proof of life and then wanders off to find Kara.

                “Hey, can you take some photos of me?”

                “Sure. Doing what?”

                “I don’t know… just stuff.”

                “Okay stuff.”

                “Like… swimming or working out I guess? Maybe riding again?”

                “Okay… I’m starting to sense a theme here. Are you… are these for your Instagram?”

                “Yeah. Maybe. Why?”

                “Because the theme I’m sensing is thirst traps… like. Are you trying to make your followers horny?”

                “Uh…”

                “Oh… one follower in particular huh?”

                “Kara…”

                “Oh, don’t you Kara me. This is payback for all those times you made fun of me for drawing love hearts around pictures of Kaleb.”

                “I heard my name…?”

                “You printed off pictures of him especially! He was my best friend!”

                “Was?” Kaleb asks and Jake gives him the finger, because he’s well aware of where Kaleb’s true loyalties lie, and they’re with Kara, which is where they should be.

                “Jake wants me to take photos so he can post thirst traps on Instagram.”

                Kaleb turns to him and Jake pulls a face.

                “Don’t judge. I’m… trying to figure something out.”

                “With thirst traps?”

                “We can’t all be married to our high school sweethearts living out a happily ever after.”

                “Your high school sweetheart is still single, if you wanted to look them up…”

                “Pass thanks…” Jake mutters, because they’re single for a reason and he’s glad he dodged that bullet in question.

                “Jake’s got his eyes on Rooster.”

                “Which one is that?”

                “Cockadoodledo.”

                “Huh. Should have guessed. I’ll take your photo.”

                “Rather you than me!” Kara calls after them and Jake just gives her the finger.

[mewnewew]

Sir Crocodile x Reader

Yes I know, where the hell were you, yadda yadda. What can I say? Drama, tea and a better understanding on life. Anywho, cooked this up when I wasn't feeling so great. Have fun w this.

TW: MENTIONS OF KIDNAPPING, SCARS AND POSSIBLE SEXUAL ASSAULT

God, it's so infuriating and pathetic of him. He hates this, understand? Hates this.

If it were up to him, he'd destroy the whole thing, down to molecules just for the sake of what they've done.

But he can't. He needs to find his wife. His little perfect wife. The one who'd yell even when she wasn't angry or sad or happy, just generally. His wife whose laughter always changed, from outrageously loud to soft snorts, always at wrong times, who was his opposite in the most classical way. Hell, most people didn't understand how they got along, and sometimes even he didn't know it as well. She'd readily challenge his decisions and debate with him over the most inane topics, from jam to how he didn't like ketchup. His wife.

He hates that she was caught. He hates that she was taken away from him. She wasn't even in a dangerous place. She just was.

He sits down at the chair and table offered holding his auction pad tightly. He takes an inhale of the cigar, sighing. He needs to calm down.

2 hours of auctioning later, he saw her be dragged up on stage. Dressed in some lingerie, looking drowsy and blinking slowly. She'd been definitely drugged. Oh he's gonna kill them. Her hair was longer than he'd ever seen it, now reaching her ass. He instantly put his paddle up.

Half an hour later, he'd just bought his wife back. For 2 billion beri. The minute he saw her in front of him, she blinked slowly, tilting her head to the left, curious. He picked her up and she gazed at him quietly, then smiled.

"You look at me with so much care. Do you know me or something?" She said in a voice smooth like honey.

"We're married. Don't you remember?" He said, walking to his ship.

"Oh...." She murmured. She seemed lost in thought.

When they reached his cabin, he placed her on their bed, then looked at her.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

(Later on, Daz would bring a doctor who would inform Crocodile that it was either blunt force trauma to the head, or the trauma of whatever happened to her which caused this. He showed some of the bruises on her scalp to Crocodile as he explained it. And even more later on, Crocodile would slowly disintegrate the men's careers and then finally them relishing in their screams of terror)

She shook her head. You love me. He wanted to shout, you love me so much you would stay up every night just to make sure I'm home. You would give me a space to be comfortable, to let down my guard, to heal. Why can't you remember? Why can't you come back to me so that I can heal you?

But Sir Crocodile didn't do that. What he did do, was pick her up again and take her to the bathroom.

An hour later, she was curled up, clean and without makeup, in a robe beside him, eyes curious and quiet but face calm.

Ah, she was starting to be curious. Good.

A few years later, a whole 3 years where he'd spent talking to her, reminding her of things, feeling his heart race as he saw some semblance of her former self come back, he came into the bedroom after a unfortunately long meeting to find her scrambling to meet him.

He blinked in surprise as he automatically placed the base of his hook under her thighs, holding her up and to him as she beamed at him, hands now cupping his face. Could she? Was she-

"Crocodile, I remember"

He could feel his breath catch. His eyes growing wider, his ringed hand cupping the back of her head, fingers tangled in her fluffy hair.

"You do? You really-?" His voice cracking, but God could he feel hope rising in his chest, enveloping his chest.

"I do!"

Sir Crocodile just held her tight, turning his head to kiss her ear. His voice shakier than it was in a long time, a slight, shaky and joyous smile blooming on his face.

"I never lost hope, my love"