#i know how you guys feel about that crusty man and his much less crusty brother alright. i know what you want

[skrunksthatwunk]

making a crossover for idiot losers that nobody will like (<- very invested, cannot be stopped)

[luvtak]

Dating TXT

❀ this is the fluffiest of fluffs i swear

❀ a/n i hope i was successful in making this super super gender neutral, but if anything needs to be changed lemme know!!!

❀ w/c 1414

Yeonjun: Everything is fond and over the top. Everything is heightened. He squeezes so tight when he holds your hand—which he is always doing, and whenever he hugs you, he takes up every bit of breath in your lungs. He fusses over you like a mother hen, making sure you’re eating well, and your jewelry is placed right. Yeonjun always needs to be touching your skin, his hand on your thigh at restaurant, back hugs while you’re waiting in line at a café, arms wrapped around your shoulders or waist even if it inconveniences you both. So so so corny; sings love songs to you and whispers lines from romance movies, it makes you laugh but you can never tell if it’s because you actually like it, or you just love him. He is so in awe of you, sometimes the boys will catch him staring at you and whispering “wow” under his breath; he thinks you’re so beautiful and cute that when you wake up and your face is swollen and crusty he thinks you’re the most adorable thing. If he notices you’re even a little bit cold he’ll burrow you in all his warmest clothes and blankets until you are sweating and on the verge of heatstroke. When he kisses you it’s so sincere that you can feel every bit of love coming off him, even if you’ve just been fighting—especially if you’ve just been fighting. He always lets you pick the restaurant and never gets mad if you can’t make up your mind about where to go, in his mind he’ll take you anywhere as long as it makes you full. He is sweet and silly and never lets you think any less of yourself than he does, and he thinks a lot of you.

Soobin: The most domestic relationship ever. Seriously you guys are 20 going on 84, matching sweaters and in bed by 8. It’s a very earnest love—it’s maybe not overtly passionate or earthshattering, but it’s so fulfilling, and he makes you feel so safe. The kind of boyfriend to carry a picture of you in his wallet. Always so shy, whether you’re in front of a dozen people or it’s just you two alone, he will be timid about his actions—in a very sweet way. Hesitant to touch you, but when he does it’s so careful, like you might break. Learns how to do your hair: if it’s short he figures out how to clip fringe back so it stays out of your face… if its longer he tries his very hardest to learn to French braid, its always messy but done with love. Holds your hand while you cross the street to make sure your safe. Gets matching lanyards and phone cases, and takes dozens of pictures of you both with them. Making you bread and pastries on a free weekend fresh from the oven and telling you its only so good because he made it with you (though you didn’t do anything to help). Rides the train with you at night time so you don’t get scared, even if that means he has to get back on to go all the way back to the dorm. Sends pictures and funny stories every hour while he’s on tour. Tells you he loves you so much you need to adopt Odi. Cherishes and honors you like no one before, makes sure you never go a day without knowing he adores you.

Beomgyu: the silliest man you’ve ever come in contact with, and yet you’ve never felt more understood by anyone. Being with Beomgyu means you’ll never feel unwanted or alone. He has a way of knowing what you need before you do; texts you when he thinks something bad has happened, orders what you’re craving before you tell him, tells you he loves you too right before you say the words. Lays in bed with you at night joking but being so honest about all of his big feelings for you. Thinks you’re the most interesting person he’s ever met, is always telling the boys something he learned about you and saying “isn’t y/n so cool” when all it is an animal fact you learned from national geographic and told him about. Listens to every song you tell him you like. Starts wearing clothes that are your favorite color just so he can hear you say “you know Gyu, that shirts my favorite color.” Listens to everything you say and can recite it at a moment’s notice. Becomes friends with all your friends and all your family. Makes fun of you but never goes far enough that it hurts your feelings. Will watch movies and shows that he hates if you like them, while he can’t keep quiet about the complaints, he never actually turns it off. Will give you the most sincere and lovely compliments out of nowhere—he needs to make sure you know he appreciates you… he loves you so much he can’t contain it, and everyone who knows him knows.

Taehyun: the most charming boy you’ve ever met. Knows everything about you—from your favorite food to what you want your epitaph to be. Takes you on dates to science museums and 5 star restaurants. Comes with you to all your little appointments, you need a haircut? He’s sitting with you. You need to get a cavity filled? He’s in the waiting room. Cooks you dinner and makes you rate every bite, with threat of no dessert. Giggles with you over stupid things one of the boys said to him that afternoon. Wears the same outfit again and again because you complimented him on it once. Learns the words to your favorite songs so he can sing them to you like a lullaby. Always always always pulls out your chair and opens the door for you. Helps you study and grants you a kiss for every right answer. Wraps you up in his arms when you’re sad, whispers all the things he loves about you right in your ear. Charms your parents ten minutes into meeting them. Tells you he loves you at the end of every conversation. Buys couple rings and tells everyone about them. Kisses every one of your knuckles when he holds your hand. Stocks up the dorm with anything you might need—hair ties, your favorite snacks, the pain meds you prefer—he’s got it all. He never goes a day without telling you how happy he is you’re in his life <3

Kai:  Dating Kai is like being with your best friend every day, nothing is a big deal—it’s all easy peasy. He picks up habits from you sooo fast: sooner or later you’re saying the same phrases and telling the same jokes. Everything is cozy, it was at least 9 months in before he ever saw you in cute date clothes because you guys are always wearing pajamas. Perfect date for him is watching movies or playing games with good food. The easiest way for me to explain what loving him is like is listening to a pop song, while it may be repetitive and mindless it makes you so happy and feels so familiar. He brings you to lunches with his sisters where you all make fun of him  and he just cracks up because he’s so happy you all get along. You can tell him anything, and he’d never judge you: it could be the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done and he’d say “that’s cool dude, why were you so worried?” Also the boyfriend to never call you pet names, he’d think calling you babe or honey would be so cringe his mouth can’t even form the words. You leave a hair tie at the dorm once and now he never takes it off, it’s his favorite bracelet and you can’t have it back. Will not tell you he loves you if anyone is around, and if you tell him he will turn beet red. However, he is constantly draped over you and touching your skin, like you know he’s upset with you if he’s not literally on top you at every moment. With all of his awkward squabbling’s throughout the day, as soon as you’re laying in bed together he tells you how much he loves you and how good of a day he spent with you. Loves you so much even if can’t always find the words <3

© luvtak

[mr-orion]

ok I must have more lore on this Icarus I keep seeing since I’m officially in love with him and want to kiss

he and I should kiss

also may I draw him bc that drawing you posted of him gossiping tickles my brain so much-

"I guess if the inspiration strikes... me being your muse must happen."

Oh boy. He's a bit of a firecracker and not very PG. He's in fact, kind of mean. As for the kissing, you and Ray both, though I think Icarus will shake you down for all your cash before you start getting any affection. As for drawing, yeah! I'm always grateful for any drawings and honestly treasure each one I get!

I don't see the harm in saying it as it is. He's a prostitute and escort. Man is raking in the big bucks working under Stags INC. The only reason Ray and him are friends is because Icarus has a lot of intel on the people manning the cartels. While Ray initially got his cooperation by bargaining to sweep his drug use under the carpet, he found Ray is a fun guy and not too sleazy to be around. Plus he's fun to tease, which is Icarus' favorite thing.

He's a Stav'raw, as opposed to Ray who is an Auveri. Unlike Ray he cannot fly. He has dense bones and his wings are only good for a glide. Which, he doesn't preen them. He was never taught so he is absolutely matted with feathers he hasn't thought to pull out. He's actually much more vibrant but because he's so fucking crusty with feathers from his whole existence you can't really tell. Additionally the sclera of his eyes is black. Along with his mouth and lips. He also gave himself a split tongue.

He comes from a very neglectful household with a mother who was a first generation Earthian and a non-existent father. He found his profession as a way out of that bad situation. Though Icarus' dream job is being able to help kids someday. He wants to be a pediatrician for alien children, believing that if one adult had noticed the abuse happening to him he could have been helped.

While Icarus doesn't think he'll make it because of his job history, Ray encourages him. Also reassures him that there are other ways he can help people. While Icarus is bummed he's only just starting to get into the 9 years of schooling at 28, he remains hopeful.

His hobbies consist of video games, nursing classes, clubbing, taking his dogs for walks along the beach, and riding his motorcycles around.

Another fun fact is that this man is absolutely the best of friends with Rays older brother Rowan. Though he has no clue the two are related because they look nothing alike and it's just never comes up. It will be chaos when all three of them figure it out and Rowan tries to beat him for trying to rizz up his beloved sibling. Ray will also get a scolding for bringing sweet, innocent Icarus into his less ethical detective practices. Ha.

Additionally, in freak coincidence Rowans child, is also his niece! He genuinely had no clue until one night in a deep conversation his best friend opened up about how similar Icarus looks to his niece, Onyx's egg donor. Icarus developed an even deeper hatred for his twin sister that night upon Rowan opening up even more about what his sister did to him. (It gets real fucking dark, so I'll spare those details.)

Icarus absolutely hates talking about his blood relations unless its Onyx. Who he treasures deeply and is so proud of. And by proxy Rowan. Of course. Who is his bro, his best friend, his pogchamp.

I can't think of much more, if you want to know something specific please feel free to send more asks!

[papirouge]

Turkish and Arab men have beautiful face structures 👀 I agree too and GOOD HAIR. All the guys I knew that were middle eastern or turkish also smelled wonderful. Idk what cologne they used but I loved how so many these guys knew how to groom themselves well. some had a good skin care routine. While other guys thought washing their asses or brushing their tongue was “gay” at my old church I had friends who married young complain about their husbands not knowing how to wash their dicks, buttcracks and finger nails. The stories of wearing days old underwear and socks with holes was so off putting. Just nasty. Some of them were just… you couldn’t water board that out of me

Before replying, I want to point out the crazy energy shifting in your ask: from their heights of Eastern men finesse appreciation........to the dirty buttcrack of crusty Western scrotes.... I-💀 WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME, ANON??😭

FACE STRUCTURE + GOOD HAIR(LINE) IS EVERYTHING. A good square jaw/chin can do a lot! That's why on that aspect Eastern men are superior to Westerners BIG TIME (they tend to not age as badly as them too). Even Western White supremacist scrotes admit their own shortcoming by identifying themselves as masculine vikings when they are balding chinless Western Europeans.....not Slavs lmao Some Western men are very handsome though but their aging process is CRIMINAL. For example, I've always found Benjamín Allen (model) very beautiful, but then he hit the wall like mad once he hit (only) 26 YEARS OLD

(left: 20 years old / right : 26 years old💀)

There are some exceptions ofc. Nicolaj Coster Waldeau is aging like fine wine....👀 (I'm not into older men like that but damn...he's fiiiiiiiiiiine - I love his quirky nose<3). Hands down the most attractive White man in the industry💗 Unproblematic terfy* Danish KING🇩🇰🤍

And yeah, I'll trust Middle Eastern and Jews over any other demographics when it comes to hygiene, bc their religion makes it compulsory for them to remain clean and wash their hand regularly. Meanwhile, Westerners had this thing of being scared of water over weird superstition... It's funny how Westerners think that people from 3rd counties are dirty when the plagues were neither in Africa or Asia, but EUROPE and was transmitted through rats and other filthy routines....*shudders* Back when I was in Tanzania, at the restaurant, there was always someone wandering through the table with a bowl and a jug of water so that people could wash their hand before eating. In countries with less infrastructure, they are way more cautious with hygiene by taking easy actions like that. And in before "but the plague was centuries ago, now people have good hygiene!!" just know that here in France, it's not rare for me to see people leaving the toilets without washing their hands.... They are bioterrorists and should be prosecuted along with Al Qaida tbh

And yes, I've read body horror stories about people not washing their ass crack or their legs on reddit (it's always reddit...). People were saying they didn't feel the need to wash their legs because the water was flowing down there anyway....but what they didn't understand is that you still have to scrub the dead skin out of your skin!!! It's like saying "oh I don't need to wash my towel bc my body is clean after showering uwu" I've also read the stories of people WHO WERE NOT WASHING THEIR BATHTUB and were walking inside with FLIPFLOPS so much dirty it was, I-

[genderlesssinner]

We're baaaccckkk

I'm not crying you're crying

Papa Wyvernwind is not as.. Stuffy as I expected so far.

Sam casually wearing the Aeormaton hoodie, how dare

Oh my love Dorian

I need Dorian to make it back home now no matter what. I know he probably thinks he won't, but that's exactly why I need him to

Wind spirit sword oh FUCK yeah

Oh my god 'a drunk old man'

Now who was this kid talking to Chet

If he has a kid I'm going to die

Oh no worse he's gonna feed his ego

The arrogance on this crusty old gnome istg 🤣

DOZENS oh dear gods

C poppers

A PAINTY matthew please

Did I mention that I still think Vord is a bitch?

Samuel fucken Reigal

PICKLE!!

Pikey to the rescue

Ooo fancy armor for the Bullshit King

TRUTHBEARER It's perfect

Why do I feel like Doomseed is a fake name

"and I walk away"

That's a long page for armor damn

Liam casually saying Orym loves Dorian HOOO I know he doesn't necessarily mean romantically but !!!!!!!! And going to talk to his dad though! AAAA

The slow burn is BURNING yall

"He's Dad and he's Daddy" I love Robbie so much

I love him so so much

Ash having this heart to heart while being a 8 ft tall titan person is wonderful

They all need a hug holy shit

I was just thinking that it seems like Kiki sees herself in Imogen a bit

Keyleth: I have to convince my friends

Most of vm is present or nearby sooo.. Literally like 3 or 4 of them are in THIS room. Scanlan is the only one truly unaccounted for (which has me so curious)

GOLDFISH 😭🤣🤣 Never living that one down

the callbacks tonight yall

"is she a mode of transport like Essek was" CRYING

Maattthhhhheeewwwwugghhh I hate when he has them roll and is like "okay" jsvjshskxhc

Yes thank you guys for remembering Nana could stop the Fey time fuckery

LIAM. ANOTHER CHARACTER. AAAAAA

TRAVIS. Why are you looking for the Bright Queen. What are you doing you little gremlin.

The ask for aid is smart the hint for her staff.. Less so. Oh look she has a sense of humor, sweet.

"who says I haven't already?"

"she does." perfect

I do not trust her with Ashton for HALF A SECOND. No. Nuh uh. Nope.

...and of course he's gonna go straight to her. *sigh*

Lots of thoughts about Bright Queen and the Luxon but I don't have words for it

Chet is such an ass sometime dear god

MORE WHISPERS AAAAA

Chet's little fan boy is gonna make me loose my mind

Poor Matt sometimes running for these guys is like herding cats but man I love them all

OH WAIT FUCK HOW I don't know how I forgot Chet made a deal with Morri that explains.. A lot.

She altered this little guy's whole life

"Whats special about this egg, Chetney?" love when he does this

"He faints."

I am dying

I'll say it again. I love Travis's reactions

This whole thing is gonna be so bad for chet's ego, gods help me

If Chetney dies in a bed he made in a museum to his work... Holy shit. I guess we find out next week.

Prepare yourself for more of my rambling bullshit

I apologize this is gonna be LONG as I just spew my thoughts while watching

Oh right Liliana is here I forgot this is where we left off OOF

The Weave Mind built the fortress, okay okay okay

Burrow Site?? Ah the dig to the cage

Oooh no he's using Liliana for the projection??

Oooo fae info dump

Are the Unseelie part of how Ludinus does the widespread projections? Or is he just rallying the troops

I am both stressed and love how eager Travis always is for things to go poorly

So much teleporting if they do this and going to the Fey is time fucky so that could be bad I hope they remember that and maybe Morri can still help with that?

Istg Travis. That die roll is gonna get Chet one day and no one is gonna believe it at first cause he fakes out so much

"we're not interesting enough for that" TAL

Part of me really hopes they turn the Sorrowlord fully against Ludinus but I also don't want that sombitch anywhere near Fearnie

Always walkin and talkin, or they would never get anywhere. Ever.

This meeting should be interesting.

WHO ARE THE OTHER DRAGONS MATTHEW?

I know my love, J'mon is one. Who are the other two.

Love having telepathic bond, hell yeah Imogen

GET IT LIL MAN dayum WHO IS HERE MATT AAAAA THE WHISPERSSSSS

Braius apologizing to Fearne is hilarious to me Fearne is the last one to be picky about relationship stuff yet he kissed Imogen and it it's fine lol

TALIESIN IS SO INTO THIS I love Taliesin's reactions to everything omg

"shut up baby I know it" LIAM LEMUR O'BRIEN

I have so many mixed feelings about all of this wow okay

Thank you for stopping them Matt

My boys? WHO DID YOUR HALFLING EYES SEE ORYM?

Oh no oh um is that papa Wyvernwind?? It iiisssss oh shiiiiiiitttt

Hoo boy, those are big ass golems

WHO IS THE SILVER DRAGON MATTIE

Oooh man I love these absolute chucklefucks

The beacons are lit

Cerkonos!! Fuck yeah. Ashari!

Vex is like fuck the politics we have to *stop* this

Everytime they say Sunder King it sounds SO FAMILIAR and I can't remember it's driving me bonkers

That is one hell of a name Matt

Oh SHIT the dragon Zone of Truthed the whole damn place ooooff

Oh shit Braius of of everyone being able to lie? That totally won't bite is in the ass WILL IT SAMUEL?

VOX MACHINA ASSEMBLE BITCHES

OH SHIT the fucking bright queen vouching for the mighty nein shiiiitttt if she only knew

Taliesin: happy wiggles

Oh poor kiki dealing with all these assholes on top of everything else

Dorian thank you oh my god I was sitting here like Ash pls I love you but this one time keep your opinions to yourself you beautiful dumbass

Oh no

Okay maybe it's okay that Braius can lie ...maybe

Many months = two whole days

A GUY WHO MAKES Chairs crying

"what's the Platinum Dragon's mother's name?" Hoo that throwback

Oh boy Sam is making something Canon rn

Interesting okayokayokay

Oh Ashton oh no

Oh. Okay. No I'm vibing with this though.

Fearne flashing the room would be hilarious

"quick spin the bottle" XD

Oohhhh showing them is uh an interesting choice right now with the uh exhaustion that comes after

Fuck shit I missed a bit because technical issues hell

Oohhhhhh hh my sweet bard boy

Robbie is such a wonderful story teller ugh

Orym blue screening over Dorian and his horsedragon, love him

Chet is gonna wolf out ain't he.

Tiny sexy breath 🤣🤣🤣

Aaand there it is. Ope he's not actually changing okay okay

OH SHIT TITLES OH MY FUCK AKXBSUHVG

I totally got distracted and missed something said but it's fine I'll watch again Monday

Chet

Oh

What

Where's papa Wyvernwind

Yeeeeeee

I forgot his name is Bronte

Yeah no tracks okay fuck.

Break time! More rambling fucker in the second half yall

Go use the bathroom and get drinks and snacks

[jiminrings]

hi OHMDHHD STEM KOO is the cutest and sulky stem!koo!!! r u kiddinggg. So What if jungkook sees yoongi eating off of y/n's lunchboxes and his mind just goes...

stem koo sees someone else eating from his lunchbox(s) and freaks out 🥺🥺! senior oc is like o_o! thank u for writing

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo’s so mad that he might pop a vein

“do i even wanna know what happened to you last night?”

yoongi grimaces at you first thing in the morning, his grogginess proving no hindrance in being annoying himself

you’ve woke up with no hangover at all because you didn’t go back to the party to get your fill, the fresh experience still a little new

“jungkook asked me if i could walk him home and i did.”

:O

you did wHAT now

sure, yoongi knows that no matter how ruthless you could be, you’d still go the extra mile if someone asked you to

but for jUNGKOOK?!?!

as in jungkook, the junior you have (maybe had at this point) a crush on, and have been making lunchboxes for a duration of two weeks?

also jungkook, the same guy who was a colossal asshole and have been more or less giving away the lunches you’ve secretly been making him??

THAT jungkook????

“y/n what do you have to say for yourself?” he gasps audibly, trying to shove at you but not without almost poking his eyes from pointing out the crusties

alright you expected this

you kinda deserve this

“buT he was like, two seconds away from a breakdown so i felt compelled to take care of him.” 

that bit’s actually true and kook was about to cry in the middle of a party right then and there

he would’ve also rubbed his eyes raw to the point that he’d forget he made the stupid decision of wearing his eye contacts!!!

“yeah, yeah, i understand that part!!!” yoongi admits and he commends you in all honesty, “but what if he misinterprets that?”

oh

you stop in your tracks at making a hangover bagel, attention clearly more piqued this time

“but there’s nothing to misinterpet..?”

LMAOOOO

ok maybe that’s where you’re wrong

yoongi scoffs at the question marks floating above your hand, scoffing even more when you still don’t get it

“no offense, but have you ever seen jungkook? he looks like the type to get attached too quickly. to the delivery guy. to a stain on the wall. to a laminated copy of his class schedule. he’d be a puppy sniffing at your heels in no time, y/n.”

>:(

“no he wouldn’t.”

......

uhhhhh

you, in fact, should probably listen to yoongi more

it’s monday and for the entirety of your day up until lunch, you’ve been getting stares at the back of your head!!!

you can’t see who but you kNOW that someone just keeps looking at you

you want to stare back to creep them off but you just!! can’t!! tell!! who!!

it’s frankly getting annoying and it’s making the hairs at the back of your neck stand up

“you’re the bEST!! you made me lunch and i didn’t have to beg??” yoongi exclaims when you slide a lunchbox towards him, hugging you by force when he sees that it’s his favorite rolls inside

lol cute

if only you didn’t view yoongi completely platonically and in a very repulsive way, he would’ve been your boyfriend by now

“yesterday. you didn’t beg yesterday and you only had to beg twenty times in the days before that,” you chuckle as he squeezes you, having to tug at his hair as soon as the hug started getting too long

man that is fREEING

you wipe off the imaginary crumbs he’s given you, scratching at the back of your neck when you furrow your brows in annoyance

“hey yoongi, is there someone behind me? jesus, someone’s been staring at the back of my head all day and it’s literally burning me.”

he’s been glancing up the whole time, cheeks full from the rice and it’s only when you call him out loud that he sTOPS chewing, head tilting automatically

yoongi actually starts chewing faster and that makes you THINK he has something to say, making you feel pressured nonetheless that you jostle him to get him to chew faster

jeez why’s he choking now

you offer your water bottle to him that he takes a longer than necessary sip from, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, only to nonchalantly gesture to the back of you

“you mean jungkook?”

huh

alright WHO now

listen

you have nEVER seen jungkook like this

BUT NEITHER HAS JUNGKOOK EVER SEEN YOU LIKE THIS

NOR YOONGI

NOR EVERYTHING LIKE THIS!!!

he woke up extra early and all because he was beyond motivated

and he even stayed up last night to search up crafts!!! 

origami box crafts to house your eyedrops that he was gonna return to you!!!

but tHEN he realized that the paper would quickly be ruined regardless if he puts them in his pocket or backpack

and so jungkook mADE a little drawstring pouch instead

but then it started looking a little too plain and a little too perfect that you’d probably think he got it from the store and that he didn’t make it himself!!!

SO NATURALLY

jungkook had to design it somehow and learn how to stitch on a heart!!!!

but what if that was a little too romantic for eyedrops?? :///

alright fINE

he stitched on an outline of a carebear holding the heart

bUT WHAT IF you’d think it was just a ratty hand-me down or something???

jungkook stitched on your initials on the carebear

..... hold on

is he even sure that those are your initials

fuck it

jungkook has an origami box, a carebear heart initial drawstring pouch and a plain ol’ ziplock baggie in his backpack just in case

he devised a strategic plan on how to drop in the item at the last minute when he decides which approach to take after he finds you

a-after..... he finds....... you

is that..

is that his fucking LUNCHBOX????

THAT’S HIS LUNCHBOX???????

jungkook could literally see red

his yearly check-ups are all up to date but holy fuck absolutely NO ONE said that his blood pressure is capable of rising up like this

all he has is tunnel vision for his pastel blue lunchbox and the unfortunate blonde guy attached to it

he has NEVER walked this fast with so much purpose

he doesn’t even realize that people are going out of his path because sheesh they’ve also nEVER seen jeon jungkook from stem ever look this determined nor furious

he’s clenching his jaw so hard that he might not have to get his wisdom teeth taken out

“that’s my lunchbox.”

jungkook seethes from his teeth and the vein at the side of his neck is making the same appearance as his flared nostrils

he’s seeing red to the point that he doesn’t even realize that he’s seething at his senior, and even min yoongi at that

he’s seeing red and his blue lunchbox at the same time that he doesn’t even realize that you’re sitting rIGHT next to where he’s stood while he stares yoongi down

no one knows how to react actually

you’re too frozen, yoongi’s too appalled, and jungkook’s too angry

oh my fucking god

wAIT

it’s actually dawning on you that you’re about to get found out in front of jungkook and almost half of the entire university a-and-

“you think you’re the only one with the same blue lunchbox in the world?” yoongi recuperates from his shock and saves you as soon as he realizes the gravity of the situation when your eyes are wide and emotional instead of being narrowed and blank, “you’re not that special. think again, kid.”

yeah his tone might’ve been patronizing

but gOD yoongi is beyond offended

yeah jungkook might be a lil pissy bitch but he IS eating from “his” lunchbox or whatever

but never in a million years did he think that the kid would have some balls on him to approach him like that

fyi yoongi would nEVER come to his senior like that!!!! he wouldn’t even have the gall to come up and approach seokjin like that just some years ago!!!!!

jungkook balls his fists at that and he comes down off of the situation a little, but it never gets quite diffused

“maybe i’m not.”

his gaze lightened on yoongi but it’s still as hard as it’s skeptical, walking away wordlessly but not without sending you a soft gaze quickly

“but i know that sticking my nose to where it should belong is my specialty.”

[potatoes-is-are-food]

hello!! idk if request r open but if so can i request dilf shigaraki x reader? or just in general like older guy shigaraki and a younger reader!! obvi legal LOL!! like hc or whatever u want!! can it be fluffy and smutty to!! thank you!! and please!! hope ur well!! <3 lmk if u got my ask bc lately my tumble has been glitching!

Some Dilf! Shiggy headcanons for ya nonny 

- He’s older, and of course more mature, but he’s definitely still Tomura. A little crusty but very pretty, and he still plays video games.

- Ages like fine wine. Has only gotten more beautiful. Just a stunning man. A few more scars now than when he was in his 20s, but they look good on him.

- He never got with anyone when he was younger due to being busy with his work. He’s still busy, but less so now that he’s got lots of subordinates.

- When he meets you, a pretty young thing exactly like he always pictured having, he becomes intent on getting you.

- His slightly yandere tendencies have never had an outlet before, so what better time to indulge?

- He’s not totally above the idea of kidnapping you, but he’s much more patient as an older man. He doesn’t mind waiting if it means you’ll come to him.

- It’s not too hard to dazzle a slightly naive young person, just flash a few black credit cards and some shiny shit and they’ll eat out of the palm of your hand. Literally, if that’s what you’re into. So that’s what he does, but when you only show vague interest in all that and more curiosity towards him, he’s a little stunned.

- The fact you actually like him and he doesn’t have to do anything shocks him a little, he always assumed romance was more of a give-and-take situation, but you keep proving that wrong. You’re sweet without him having to do anything and you just enjoy spending time with him.

- A small part of him wishes he could’ve experienced this sooner, but considering you’d have been way too young at that time he’s not pressed about it. You’re worth the wait. And he’ll tell you that. Older Shiggy is much more in touch with his feelings and doesn’t mind telling you stuff like that.

- He’ll get you whatever you want on the rare occasion you ask for anything. It’s really common for him to get you things you don’t ask for, but rather stuff you show interest in or talk about. He thinks it’s precious how you always say he doesn’t have to do that. As if he doesn’t know and enjoy spoiling the hell out of you.

- He may be older but he retains the sex drive of a touch starved 20 year old until the day he dies. The only difference now is that he does occasionally get tired, but give him a minute and call him daddy and he’s ready to go again.

- He’s much better at aftercare as an older guy. Very attentive to your needs, he’s conscious of the fact it’s impolite to leave you fucked out on the bed and toss an energy drink at you like he’d have done in his youth. He takes the time to fix you up and tuck you in before he goes back to playing Assassin’s Creed 27.

[wornoutmouse]

Baby Daddy Shigaraki fanfic pt2

It was a miracle that no one questioned the name put down when Shigaraki had to sign the birth certificate. You summed it up as fearing for their lives but it could be many things you try to convince yourself as the reality of your new life truly set in.

The after birth pain, though constant, was numbed whenever you looked down on your son's face. He had yet to do anything more than sleep, much to your annoyance. And was aggressive when breastfeeding  much to Shigaraki's enjoyment, "Just like his father." 

Dabi was the second one to hold Daiki after Komugiri but the look of horror on his face when you fully released the baby into his arms was one that deeply concerned you. "It's breathing." He whispered to you eyes wide.

You signal for Komugiri to stand close behind Dabi just in case he really lost it. "Yeah Dabi.....he is breathing...cause that's what living things do." 

Time skip

You sigh as you finally set Daiki down inside his new bed for a nap. His small face looked so delicate surrounded by soft lavender blankets. His whole room theme was a soft purple as preferred by Komugiri. 

You closed the door till there was only a sliver of light coming in just in case he woke up again, then you headed to your living room. 

Shigaraki sat on the couch shirtless and flicking through TV channels. "Why are you still here?" You ask as you walk to the kitchen to find your tea. "What do you mean?" You stir four teaspoons of sugar into your coffee. "I got Daiki under control, you don't have inconvenience yourself."

Tomura flicked through the channels once again. "You and Daiki are not an inconvenience, you're both my responsibility now." You release the spoon causing it to clink loudly against your ceramic cup. "I don't want you to force yourself to be here, you've obviously proved that you don't really want to be apart of this."

"Y/N come on now this again?!" "Yes this again!" Shigaraki groaned scratching idly at his neck. "I've already missed the hidden trailer off Daiki's life I'm not going to miss the prequel sequel." You groan softly, "Stop talking in video game terms you know I don't understand!"

Shigaraki stands up and walks to the kitchen now leaving only the island separating you. "Look you can hate me all you want, I don't care, hell I'm used to it. But you are not keeping me from my son." You shudder at the tone Tomura spoke at.

There were very few times when you've heard this voice and luckily it was never directed to you. This voice meant that what he said was final and he would not go back on it no matter who got in his way. "I would love to have you in his life Tomura, but I don't want what comes with it." You finally say, making Tomura throw his hands up in defeat.

"What do you expect me to do woman?! Make him tag along on "Bring your child to work day?" You turn away trying to contain your annoyance in fear of waking up the baby. "I'm giving you one chance to get your shit together, don't mess it up." Behind you, you could hear the steady steps of Tomura retreating, "And I'm giving you a chance to see how stupid you're being right now."

Before he completely walked away he stopped, "I am going to check on Daiki since it seems like he's the only one that appreciates my efforts."

Once you heard the familiar creak of Daiki's bedroom door you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. "How did I get like this?" 

It of course was on a Saturday, as all good stories do. You were working a waitress job at Denny's as a way to earn some pocket money for your first year in Japan. 

"Table 3 we got your Bourbon Chicken skillet, Fish and chips, two waters, and a cherry sprite." Your say setting down all your items before walking to the booth next to them. 

"Hello welcome to Denny's, what can I get for you all tonight?" Dabi at the time, had a nonchalant hand over Twice's mouth most likely to stop his internal bickering. Komugiri was navigating the kids menu with a then 15 year old Toga. Spike ordered some Fish and Chips as per usual and Shigaraki was starting at your tits.....

Shigaraki was staring at your tits.....

He was STARING- I think you get the point

"Hey birthday bitch what are you ordering?" Dabi said snapping Tomura back to the present. "Uh.. get me a steak skewer." Dabi gasped, "I spent all my time and hard work scrounging up money and you get a damn steak skewer for your birthday?!" 

The five stages of grief came over you internally as you had been standing there way past your recommended time. "If you guys aren't ready to order, I'll just come back-" 

"No no no, we are ready. Can we get chicken on a stick with a side of grapes and fries for the young lady. Steak and eggs for me...Dabi? Dabi leaned back simultaneously releasing twice. "We would like a 3-egg omelette-with some cock!" 

You didn't get paid enough for this.

"I'll get you the omelette but I'm afraid I'm out of stock for that last part." You smirk, putting down the orders so far. Dabi snapped the menu shut, "Do y'all have chicken tenders?" Dabi asked, looking at you hopefully. You nod and he fist bumped Twice for some unforeseen reason. 

"Uh get crusty over there a Supreme Sizzling Skillet." "Wait why can all of you get chicken but I can't?!" You wrote down the orders and glanced at Shigaraki who was now looking directly at you as if you held all the answers. "Okay for drinks?"

   As you got off work, you took the back alley entrance to the bus stop. "Hey." Your scream and toss a punch into the darkness effectively making skin to skin contact. "Ow what the fuck?!" "What do you mean what the fuck you're the rapist!"

Shigaraki's signature light blue hair appeared from the shadows almost glowing from the dim alley light. "Rapist? No, I'm more on the lines of stalker." You stand there for a moment rethinking your life choices. "Yeah okay well I'm going to go-" "Wait!" 

You feel half of a hand grip onto your wrist stopping you in your place. "I uh... Think you're cute and, ah crap what did Dabi tell me to say?!" 

As he mulled over his choice of words you hesitantly reach into your purse for pepper spray. "Uh I was wondering if I could get to know you?" He finally ended off staring at you expectantly. You looked back at him expectantly.

"I know this seems creepy but I'm not exactly good at talking to people that are not my friends so you're kinda boss level interaction." For a while your stare at each other as the cold fall wind blew past the two if you. Giving up, you sighed and pulled out a price of paper, "Look, if I wake up tomorrow and none of my underwear is missing and window is not mysteriously open, I'll give you a call, but don't expect it!"

And he didn't expect it. To your surprise, you never found any ominous signs of entry into your substitute home, and he never 'conveniently' showed up at your job. 

Even so, the very fact that you called him was during a moment of weakness. You were extremely home sick and you had just moved into your new home that was only equipped with a fully furnished bedroom and a microwave. 

When you heard the hesitant knock on the door you quickly put your cup of noodles down and opened the door. In your face was a rose...a single rose in a pot. 

Thats different

"It was short notice and it's not like any flower places were open.... So I stole it." You gingerly take the plant into your hands, "It's the thought that counts (?) Come in." You shut the door behind him and set the plant in the kitchen. 

"You must forgive the dryness of my home, I just moved in so there isn't much going on." Tomura hummed as he felt his bones relax as the warmth of the house filled his body. You stared at each other for a while, awkwardly sweating back and forth. Finally, you both opened your mouth to speak up.

"I didn't know I'd get this far so.."

You blink at each other before you double over with laughter. "Uh okay, well how about we watch a movie, get comfortable. The TV is in my room so I hope that doesn't bother you." 

You put on Wall-E for lack of better mood as Tomura hesitantly settled on your plush bed, hands clasped tightly between his thighs.

You two watch these movie in silence and shared popcorn. It wasn't awkward silence though, it was needed. A unspoken message saying that you both acknowledged that this was weird but it was a good weird. Both of you were willing to give it a try.

"Hey pass the popcorn." Tomura said blindly patting the air in front of you. "No you've ate most of it already!" You opted to keeping the bag as far as possible. "It's good popcorn now hand it over." You continue to resist but he was more stubborn.

Unable to think of any other way to save your beloved popcorn you clench your eyes shut and deliver a small peck to the tip of Shigaraki's nose. 

Almost as if shocked, he slides away holding his nose gently. You huff with airy laughter at his flushed face, "Told you, this is my popcorn." 

You smile softly at the memory wiping away a stray tear from your face. "One chance... I'll give him one chance."

You tiptoe to Daiki's new room and peek inside. It was too dark for you to see inside so you opened the door completely. You blankly look into the empty room before falling to your knees. "SHIGARAKI TOMURA I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" You scream into the night air as you glared into the baby less crib.

"Man are you sure you should have him here? He's still a newborn and nothing's baby proof, hell this is a bar so it's far from sanitary!" Dabi said glancing into the baby carriage. Daiki sleepily gazed up at Dabi and babbled. 

"Y/N and I are going through a small set back so I decided to give her some space." Tomura unclipped Daiki from his carseat and picked him up holding his head in a four fingered hold. "We decided to give her some space isn't that right?" He cooed at Daiki who gingerly hit his nose.

"Dude stop, seeing you with a baby is giving me the creeps." Shigaraki glared as Dabi took a shot, "Ignore your uncle Dabi he's just mad he's not as cute as you."

Komugiri was washing dishes until a shiver went down his mystical spine, "I feel a disturbance in the force.

[1-800-seo]

1-800-SEO presents: — Where Is My Mind?

genre: dystopia/slight angst/escapism

pairing: Johnny Suh/Gender Neutral Reader

warnings: IV’s/needles, intravenous use of narcotics, bad coping mechanisms, alcohol use, depictions/descriptions of poverty to a degree, implied sexual activity, dreams

word count: 2506 words

in affiliation with: @127-mile ‘s

drive in fic collaboration

summary: Based in a future where your wildest dreams can be lived in for a few hours through intravenous methods, vices and virtues blur. Scraping by is all you can do, and escapism is all you live for. Maybe that will change when you meet him. (Loosely based on Inception.)

The familiar haze of mental fog clouds your mind, it coats the edges of your thoughts like a viscous syrup. You find yourself in a wheat field, the golden crops stretching for as far as the eye can see ahead of you. The swirling breeze passes over your hands and you feel it tickle, a sensation you’ve not felt in a long time. After taking a crisp piece of the surrounding plants into your hands, you feel each and every texture it offers with a fingertip. It’s not like you’ve ever touched real wheat before, you want to imprint it to memory. With the piece of crop still in your dominant hand, you turn your head, body following its arc too, and your eyes meet a cottage. The building just exudes a comforting energy, it's homely even when your real home is nothing alike. The trees that are positioned off to the side of the cottage provide the right amount of shade, one side of the house has full direct sunlight and the other is gently shaded, but in a comforting way. You drop the wheat and make your way over to the cottage. As you make your way up to the front door, following the perfectly placed path, you take in the smell of the decorative flowers that adorn the surrounding gardens. The smell of real flowers is something you’re not used to. Finally upon reaching the door, you outstretch your hand to grasp the door handle. The moment your skin makes contact with the sun-heated metal, a blinding hot white shoots across your vision, and pulls you out.

Waking up is never easy, but it’s not like you’re not used to it. The moment you open your eyes you are met with the same dingy apartment as almost every other wake up. Your arms feel weak from lack of circulation as you reach across to pull out your IV. It doesn’t sting, you’ve done this so many times, it’d be surprising if it did. As your eyes adjust to the light you start to make out the time, it’s displayed on the heads up view of your plexi-wall, and reads 11:36PM. Stars, it’d been 7 hours since you last ate, and your body is definitely letting you know as it starts to wake up from its lulled state. You shift your wobbly legs away from the crusty office chair you were sitting on and begin to make your way over to the food dispensary. You hold your palm over the sensor as a silver sachet slides out and into your palm. You make quick work of depositing its contents into a bowl and mixing it with hot water, your hunger spurring you to be swifter.

Before you know it, all of the food has been devoured, your stomach full, and the night is ready to be conquered. You have no desire to leave the flat, nothing calling you besides money to leave the (lack of) comfort of your home. But of course, money always beats out desire, and so you hastily put on your shoes and proofed jacket, grab your safety umbrella and backpack, and leave. Things had to be paid for, and your credits were seriously running low, if you wanted to continue with your expensive hobby, it meant scrounging. You’re not dumb, you knew that daydreaming wasn’t a cheap, safe, respectable, or even remotely healthy hobby to have, but at this point it was escapism, freedom from pain, and so you’d do anything for that sweet peace.

Once you’re at street level, you put up your umbrella. At this point it’s better to be safe than sorry, the acid rain warning that you saw on your dash ringing out in your memory. It never used to be like this, acid rain was once unheard of, but in the last ten years pollution came to the point that even the water cycle couldn’t be trusted. That’s the joys of living in urban scum, you think to yourself. Your ears register the faint sounds of sizzling rain droplets on your umbrella and you're grateful for it now. Your pace quickens, and after a blur of around 20 minutes walk, you arrive at your workplace.

Workplace was definitely too light of a word to call the building that stands before you. The imposing structure juts out into the dark with brightly coloured lights on its each corner, signalling its presence, as if it was easy to miss without the lights. The commonplace sound of thumping bass echoes about the street for meters, and it only gets louder as you walk up the stairs and into the building. A sign reading ‘Sondaero LivingSpaces’ greets you, but you know full well the people here are barely living. Oh no, this type of place is home to some of the most prolific daydreamers; well, the most prolific for the underground scene. You step through a set of large doors and out into the main courtyard. It’s an indoor park, filled with neon bioluminescent plants, and jarringly placed speakers. If this was any other establishment, the sea of ravers surrounded by people daydreaming on cot beds would be jarring to you, but you’re so used to it that you couldn’t care less; or more so, you’re plainly desensitised to it.

You find your way out onto the dancefloor and surround yourself with people - the more people the better, it just makes your job easier. Safely hidden in the palm of your hand is a biometric chip you crafted yourself. Implants are a little drastic in your opinion, especially when cosmetic, but this was a necessary thing to you considering it earnt you money. The function of the chip worked like this: every person is assigned biometric numerical values by the government of their country, this is to make controlling their finances easier without having a physical device like a debit card or a mobile phone. Instead each user is assigned these numerical values based on their facial bone structure, and the chip's job was to scan this using minute sensors. All you had to do was simply wave your hand in the direct vicinity of their face, and await results - those results being the chip draining their bank account of credit and depositing it into yours. The waving part is complicated in normal use, but when at a club, where wild dancing is the norm, it makes hand movements so much less conspicuous. As you imagine the small amounts of money gradually making its way into your account a man approaches you to your side.

The guy has long-ish dark brown hair, with eyes of the same colour and a tall stature. He begins dancing near you, slowly moving closer and closer towards your vicinity. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to this man, he was objectively good looking, and the smirk he was wearing on his face was hard to ignore. Before you know it, he’s leaning in your ear and shout-whispering: “hey, do you wanna get a drink with me, angel?” The confidence in him to skip all normal greetings is astounding to you, but in some ways that makes him even more attractive to you, so you whisper-shout back “yeah!” and lead him over to the bar by the elbow.

After you have a few drinks in you, dancing becomes thoughtless, and swaying and grinding on the nameless man is even easier. “Yo, what’s your name?” You ask over the pulsing beat. His response is a finger trailing up your spine with the words ‘Johnny’ leaving his lips. Maybe those disquieting thoughts aren’t only silenced by daydreaming, maybe this could be another outlet. That thought curls in your mind, the wispy tendrils of a coherent thought fading like a misty night.

A few more drinks in your systems leads you to going home with the man, but your memories fade away as the night (or should you say early morning?) carries on. It passes by in a blur and the next thing you know you’re being startled awake by a cat sitting on your chest, with an unearthly headache.

Once you finally manage to extricate yourself from the cat’s grasps, you sit up and immediately notice the sleeping form of Johnny next to you on the tatami, his chest rising and falling with each breath. As quietly as you can, you tiptoe up off the tatami floor, acknowledge the ache throughout your entire body and move towards his kitchenette for a glass of water. Unbeknownst to you, Johnny apparently has a rudely noisy water purifying outlet attached to his faucet, and it decides to make itself known the moment you hover your palm over the on sensor. Johnny quickly stirs awake at the noise, and he sleepily opens his eyes in your direction.

“Wha-what’s going on?” He asks, squinting as his dark eyes adjust to the light. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was just trying to get some water.” You respond, tottering back over to the tatami, glass of water in hand. “Um, I’m sorry, I don’t really remember much of last night, did we uh- what did we do?” You’re aware your question was haphazard, but the incessant hangover looming in your head has your thoughts less than clear.

���If you are wondering if we had sex, the answer is yes, but the only thing I remember is waking up covered in… unsavoury stuff...so that certainly was a way of knowing how. I also know that apparently at some part of the night we decided to dream ‘cause I had to tidy up the gear earlier, but to put any worries at bay, I’m clean and vaccinated so...yeah.” He finishes the end of his sentence, trailing off. Well, at least the mystery man is somewhat of a gentleman, and he’s not gonna give you anything nasty which is always a good thing. You realise his late night cleaning must’ve turned to yourself at some point considering you are somewhat dressed and clean, but you can’t find it in you to care, you’d come to this shameful point so what did a bit of aftercare matter.

“Oh ok, and thanks for letting me know. I’m clean and fully vaccinated too.” You respond, unsure how to act around him. Perhaps he feels your apprehension, and in answer he pats a spot on the tatami next to him, just away from his cat too. You make your way over to the spot, feet padding on the floor as you go. “Your cat’s cute, they decided to sit on my chest this morning. Despite knocking the breath out of me, they’re pretty charming.” Johnny’s eyes widen at this knowledge before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. It’s somewhat comforting to hear such a genuine laugh; it takes your mind off the world of insincerity around you.

“I apologise for Ten, he gets cuddly in the mornings.” Johnny picks up his cat to give you more space, Ten’s legs sprawling wide in the air before being put down to safety.

There’s something so warm and familiar about Johnny’s presence, it has you naturally leaning into him, and his arm comes to rest around your shoulders as your head gently leans on his chest. The feeling is just so warm and despite knowing you don’t know him well, it almost feels like you do. It feels like a lover long lost, and now he has returned a warm feeling spreads throughout your chest. It’s almost inexplicable, and if you were to try to justify it to anyone other than yourself, a wave of embarrassment would certainly wash over you.

Looking down at you, he meets your eyes, and they seem somewhat fond; not what you were expecting to see. “Do you fancy dreamin’?” He asks, still maintaining eye contact? “Hmm, sure, hopefully I’ll remember it this time.” You reply with a smile and he reciprocates.

Before you even open your eyes you’re met with the sensation of skin on skin. Beneath your fingertips you feel, what you suppose is a firm chest, and when you open your eyes your suspicions are confirmed. Your hands are resting on Johnny’s taut chest, and of course this is what an unscripted dream with the two of you looks like. You feel that you are naked too, and his hands rest gently around your waist, a relaxing gentle weight reassuring you he’s still there. You meet each other’s eyes and the tension is palpable in the air. He dips his head down and kisses you, lips melting together with ease. His hands move from their placing and trail down to cup the small of your back, your bodies meeting infinitely closer.

The two of you move together like jigsaw pieces slotting into place, there’s no conscious thoughts, only the two of you existing in this dream space. Part of you can feel Johnny’s thoughts swirling as you share the hazy unstructured scape. There’s hints of lust mixed with a sleepy mindset, probably left over from waking up moments ago in the real world. He’s set on being a lazy lover right now, selfishly devouring you with no haste in any of his actions, just taking these moments for himself. He can feel your thoughts just as much as you can feel his, he knows you’re feeling relaxed with him and he’s pleased at that, he knows how good you feel right now and he’s proud. He wants to use all of this time to make you feel good. You’re both in agreement that losing yourself in each other is ever so easy, and so you both fall into the other's grasps.

The second time you wake up, Ten is resting on your feet, warming them from the slight chill of the room. Johnny had roused quicker than you, and he’d already removed the IV from your arm. You spot him winding up the fluid bags and putting them into the insulated case they reside in. “How are you feeling?” He asks whilst disposing of the needles in the marked sharps box. “Good, lighter than usual. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, albeit mostly imaginary.”

The floaty feeling remains in the forefront of your consciousness. Despite feeling lighter, less burdened, you’re aware that you need to change your vices. Constantly daydreaming, forming relationships through them, isn’t healthy. Continuous escapism isn’t a way to live; numbing yourself over and over again won’t solve anything. With a new fervor to gain meaning in your life, you rise from your place on the tatami. “What are your plans for today, John?” You ask, perhaps vices and meaning aren’t that different from each other.

long time no see! this is my penultimate fic :(( hopefully u guys enjoyed it! I know it’s not like my usual style and is somewhat offbeat but I hope it makes sense hehe <3

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt 2

Pairing: Eventual Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Length: 1.5k words

Warnings: Too many commas, some extra ‘u’s in words as I’m Canadian..., not enough time spent world building. Hope y’all got an imagination.

Notes: They meet! They meet!  (Tags at the end.)

PART ONE

The morning sun saw Frankie already awake and amidst his trees. He knew that most people thought him stubborn by wanting to run his little orchard himself. He had heard the whispers, seen the side glances, the quirked eyebrows. The odd reputation he was gaining was worth the solitude and peace he had found.

The reputation of Town Recluse was better than That Ex-Cokehead Murderer. A small part of his brain knew that he was being too hard on himself but a larger part was convinced he deserved it. 

So, he worked his penance here. Frankie nursed the trees back to fruition, his sweat and blood sacrificed to bring forth life; refusing to use pesticides or any form of agent that might harm another living thing. Deer, rabbits, mice, and bugs were the bane of a harvester’s business but Frank had decided to find joy in their presence. If he didn’t have to see another death until his own, that would still be too soon.

It had taken him three years to get anything more than a few barrels of apples. Most asked why he didn’t just cut them all down and start anew. They didn’t understand, hell he barely did, but in his soul, Frankie knew he needed to prove that he could do good. He had made his own baskets, built sheds, mended fences, and slowly built the business and a small loft for himself in the old barn.

Looking down the rows and rows of trees, Frankie was starting to get the feeling he might need help this harvest season. It wasn’t easy for him to acknowledge this but if he didn’t get at least one helping hand, more than a few bin-fulls would go to waste. Frankie decided he would put up a flyer on the notice board the next time he went to town and pray that only quiet people would apply.

The trees were his pride and joy. A variety that had been lost and forgotten until he had bought the aging orchard and a man named Tom Brown had come along asking about the fruit.

He felt at peace when he worked as it let his mind focus on the job at hand and was tired enough to slip into a deep slumber at night. Previously plagued by nightmares, long days of pruning, fixing, or working in the mill proved the cure for a dreamless sleep.

“I’m sorry, how much did you say the total was?” you asked while rapidly trying to do some math in your head. If you purchased everything you needed at the hardware store that would only leave you forty-seven dollars left in this week’s budget. And it was only Monday. “Ermm, on second thought, I don’t know if I really need the plaster and trowel just yet. I’ll just take the drywall and screws, please.”

Leaving the store, head down, you were feeling like such an ass you didn’t even notice the two older ladies watching your exit and whispering madly to each other. The owner of Hank’s Hardware, whose name was oddly Allan, kindly helped you pile the drywall into your truck box. You were too busy with the tie-downs to notice him join in on the developing whispered plot.

Unable to resist, you purchased a bouquet of sunflowers. They were your favourite and, once you mentioned that you were new in town, the sweet older gentleman selling them gave you an extra bunch for free. The bright flowers lightened your heart enough to almost, almost, make you forget your even lighter wallet. 

The laden-down truck was nearly out of town when you spotted an open-air market down a side street. It had a surprising number of booths set up and looked so welcoming that you couldn’t resist.

Slowly walking between the stalls, you smiled at each vendor and complimented their handiwork. A few you recognized and thanked for the delicious foods they had brought by when you had first moved in.

You wished you could have supported more of the vendors, you respected their ability to create and be confident enough to share their wares. Taking one last look around, your gaze was caught by a familiar logo: it was the same one you had seen scattered across your porch a few weeks ago. ‘Catfish Cider’ in bold script framing a picture of a gnarled old tree. Maybe you should buy some and have Jacquie over for a less depressing girl's night? But could you afford it, even with leaving behind some of the reno items at Hank's?

You didn’t realize how long you had been standing there staring at the display until a voice called out.

“You gonna buy something or just wanted to block off my stand?”

Whipping your head up you noticed the man standing behind the stand for the first time. His face, for the moment, set into a grimace you assumed was due to him being upset at your loitering.

“I dunno,” you fired back, annoyed by his annoyance and too tired to stop yourself from saying a bratty, “is it actually worth the money?” 

His grimace turned into eyebrow-raising shock, the tan skin of his rather attractive face reddening a shade or two with anger.

“Oh, you have such a discerning pallet to know better?”

“I- what? No! I just want to make sure I’m spending my money on something worthwhile.”

“Like flowers?” He challenged, his stance widening and arms crossing across his chest. 

You’d seen that pose too many times in the past; Brad used to tower over you posturing himself just like this asshole at the market. He liked to hover over you menacingly any time you had mustered up your courage to state an opinion or to belittle your ideas. It made you inwardly flinch, making you angry at yourself for still acting like a meek victim, and then, in a show of great maturity, you projected that anger onto the stranger who initiated the exchange.

“Like it’s any of your business!” You cried out in a shrill voice you didn’t even recognize as your own. “But yes, these flowers make me happier than anything else I’ve seen today could.”

“I’ll have you know-” he ground out, jabbing his finger at you.

“Nope!” You interrupted him, “I’m going to stop you right there. I’m done listening to men like you!” 

“Men like me? Men like ME?” He crowed, “Pray tell, what the hell do you know about men like me?”

Had you been acting like a functioning adult you might have realized that your voices were beginning to get noticeably loud. A small crowd around the two of you had stopped what they were doing to listen while also trying to look like there weren’t eavesdropping.

“I know all I need to,” you proclaimed, not quite able to stop the tremble in your voice. “and I’m not going to waste any more of my life listening to one.” With that, you sharply turned and made your way through the suddenly thick crowd of people.

Once the adrenaline from your encounter had worn off, you found yourself crying in your truck and regretting the way you had snapped. The hot guy at the stand might have been a bit brash with you but he hardly deserved you taking out all your inner turmoil on him like that.

Frankie winced again, thinking about how quickly out of hand the conversation had gotten. His remark was supposed to come out light and teasing but he was out of practice talking to people. Pretty people. People who were framed by armfuls of sunflowers, whose skin glowed in the Autumn sun, who had a ready smile for everyone she talked to. 

He had found himself craving one for himself, and when she had stopped at his booth, looking lost in thought, he silently begged for her to look up. Impatient, he just blurted out the first words that came to his head and instantly regretted even trying. His cheeks grew red from embarrassment and Frankie just stood there looking at her blankly, not sure how to salvage the situation.

Before he could open his mouth to apologize though, the woman responded with a retort of her own. While it could have been interpreted as teasing, there had been a fiery glint in her eye that had pushed his pride button. Frankie was suddenly ready to throw down or at least regale her with the accolades of his cider and how it came to be.

What a mess he had made. He had riled up the beautiful stranger to the point her voice had wavered with barely repressed emotion. Not to mention the stir he had caused in front of half the town.

Once the market quieted down and everyone was closing up shop, Greg from the stall next to his, called over, “Know who that was?”

Even though it had been over an hour since the spat, Frankie knew he was referring to the woman with the sunflowers.

“Hopefully just some Leaf Peeper, I’d hate to run into her again.”

“Oooooh I dunno,” mused Greg, “A woman with passion in her blood like that can be a boon to crusty old men like us.”

Frankie noticed the gleam in Greg’s eyes and felt an odd burning in his stomach because of it. It was not jealousy at the unbidden image of Greg and the woman together. Definitely not.

PART THREE

@rebelliouscat @pedro4ever @speakerforthedead0 @yespolkadotkitty @ilikechocolatemilkh @weirdowithnobeardo @pedro-pastel @disgruntledspacedad @a-skov 

[bernardolovesanita]

BernardoLovesAnita Watches 2021 - Commentary Highlights

Mouthpiece's outfit in the opening looks so good on Ben 😩

Riff and Bernardo making a beeline for each other. Pure art.

Riff: How many times I gotta tell you, Bernardo. I don't speak spic.

BOY YOU DESERVED AN ASS BEATING THATS WHY YOUR BITCHASS GOT STABBED

My boys 💜🇵🇷

Brian's Krupke owns my heart. His little dumbass. The only cop I'd trust. 🥺

LOOK Riff can Choke but Mike Faist with the paint on his hands smoking the cigarette is an ICONIC look

Bernardo: Its stupid. We gotta do it, but it's stupid.

BERNARDO KNOWS! He knows the Sharks shouldn't have to be a thing but he has to protect his people 😭

Anita and Bernardo OWNED that dance floor. I don't care.

Riff laughing at Krupke and his whistle 🤣 me tooo

I love Chino's little dance

I deadass would love to just see the full choreo of the dance instead of turning to Tony and Maria. Give me more Anita and Bernardo.

Tony: I'm a by the book kinda guy.

BULLSHIT

Tony: I'll make him like me. Everybody likes me.

Bitch, I don't.

Anita's got better self control than I doooo

Who fucking decided Tony would do all that climbing and parkour shit? Was is Spielberg? Kushner? Ansel? Who's idea was it?

Tony and Maria feel "in love" because it's forbidden. If they weren't from two different worlds it wouldn't be so dramatic.

Are we going to ignore that Anita and Bernardo had the QUICKEST of quickies? Like they went into the bedroom at the beginning of "Tonight" and got freaky just for that song? Talk about Speedy Gonzalez

I don't like physical touch but I'd kill for a love like Anita and Bernardo's

Anita: Here, dead man. Eat your eggs.

OUCH IF ONLY SHE KNEW 😭😭😭😭

Bernardo really had his hands full with Maria and Anita

I still need to know why they got a poor extra SWEEPING HER FIRE ESCAPE! Por que?

I would risk it all for David and Ariana's portrayals of Bernardo and Anita. They are so fucking good. My heart can't handle itttt

Ay, Maria. It's not because of the two of you. The world does not revolve around you and your crusty white boy.

YES ANYBODYS BEAT HIS ASS

Anybodys has more balls than all the Jets put together. I said what I said.

That prostitute locked herself in that cell because she knew the Jets were rotten 😭

Poor Krupke 🥺

Tony and Maria and their dumb little weddings. This one makes less sense than in '61 when they're in the dress shop.

Tony: I swear to you Maria, there won't be no fight.

TECHNICALLY THOUGH Tony didn't break his promise because he said "there won't be no fight" which is a double negative which means he actually said "there will be a fight"

Tony had PLENTY of time to throw the gun into the water before Riff got it back. And he never fucking did. If he REALLY gave a shit about ending the violence he should have.

MIKE FAIST IS SUCH A 😩 DANCER LIKE PLEASE Give him more movie musical dancing roles

Anita singing about getting dicked down while praying at church is the most on brand thing she's done in any production.

Tony: I'm different now.

Proceeds to beat the shit out of and murder Bernardo...seems like you're very different 🙄

NOTHING THAT BERNARDO SAID WAS WRONG! Even if Tony isn't like that

WHOSE FUCKING KNIFE WAS THAT??????

Once again Tony's dumbass gets his bestfriend, his brother killed. Bernardo didn't want that. No one did.

Chino holding Bernardo so he didn't die alone hurts so fucking bad.

I know "I Feel Pretty" comes after the rumble in the stage production but it takes so much away from the film LIKE B R U H

WHY ISNT THE FIRST PERSON SHE ASKS ABOUT HER OWN BROTHER???? Like nruh if there was a fight my brother was involved in and I hear someone got stabbed I'M ASKING ABOUT MY BROTHER FIRST

Anita in the morgue breaks my heart. Why'd it have to be her? That's her lats memory of him. Seeing him pale. Dead.

Maria: If you let them take you away from me how do I forgive you for that?

BITCH! Because you can forgive him for killing YOUR BROTHER but not for turning himself in WHICH IS THE RIGHT THING TO DO! And knowing how hot racism was vack then within the system he would have had such a lenient sentence.

Subconsciously Tony wanted to kill Bernardo because that was the only real thing between him and Maria. Bernardo was his obstacle.

Krupke is so gentle with Anita 😭

AY MARIA HE'S COVERED IN YOUR BROTHER'S BLOOD AND YOU DECIDE NOW IS THE TIME TO FUCK HIM???? Fucking Christ almighty. Thank the gods this is all fictional.

MARIA DESERVED THAT SLAP

THE FUCKING AUDACIT Maria really shoved Anita

Anita's not crying over Bernardo now. She's crying over how fucking stupid Maria is being.

Anita tells Maria "he'll have to go away and you will have to go with him" because it has taken everything in her not to beat the shit out of Maria's dumbass self.

MY BOYS LIGHTING A CANDLE AND SAYING A PRAYER FOR NARDO OH MY BOYS 😭💜

Quique is the only Shark with any common sense and that is why this us a Quique stan blog.

Shrank: You're not his widow or anything.

Shrank is so fucking disrespectful SHE MAY NOT HAVE BEEN HIS WIFE IN LAW BUT SHE WAS HIS PARTNER FUCK YOU

Graz just wants to see Tony. Let her see Tony 😭

Anybodys "leave" wasn't a threat but a warning. Anybody knew it wasn't gonna end well.

This new version of the incident at Doc's hits so much more because of Graz and Velma begging the boys not to hurt Anita. The way Valentina talks. Fuck.

Why do my tears taste like soap??????

[among-starz]

What the MLQC/MLDD boys use to wash their hair

I don't know why I thought of this, but I did and now it needs to be out for the world to read. If I slander your fav boy, I'm not sorry.

Gavin

-As much as I hate to say it, this man is a 2-in-1 kinda guy.

-My man can't make himself a proper meal, much less clean his hair.

-I'd be inclined to call him a 3-in-1 kinda guy, but he does say in his hair washing ASMR that he can't use body wash on MC's hair, so at least he's got that going for him.

-Once you start dating he'll just use what ever you buy for him, he doesn't care.

-He probably also uses axe body spray . Plz Gavin, buy some cologne.

Victor

-If you're like me, your first thought would probably be that he's got a lavish hair care routine.

-I mean, the man probably buys 400 dollar cologne 20k dollar watches, so he's got money to spare

-but something about the man makes me inclined to think the only thing in his shower is a crusty bottle of 3-in-1.

-I mean everyone's got a weakness, and something tells me our man Victor's weakness is his hair care.

-Yes, i did just say his hair care is worse than Gavin's, no I will not change my mind.

-MC would relentlessly make fun of him.

-Would be very stereotypically Victor about the whole thing "Who cares what I use in my hair, idiot. Go write me a proposal."

-But the next time MC comes over the 3-in-1 would be suspiciously replaced with the most expensive shampoo, conditioner, and body wash he could find on such short notice.

Kiro

-Oh my man has a bomb hair care routine. Savin would drop kick our poor Kiro before he even thought about touching a bottle of 3-in-1

-Good thing he's always had a good hair care routine

-Gotta maintain those golden locks somehow, and separate shampoo and conditioner is a good start. More like the bare minimum.

-And he knows all about what kind of hair products to use and what to avoid.

- You'll never find silicone in our Kiro's shampoo, that's a fact.

-That wouldn't change when he starts dating you, in fact you guys probably have cute hair care/skin care dates together.

Lucien

-I feel like Lucien could go either way, but he definitely knows how to properly care for his hair

-the question is, if he'll actually do it.

-My guy gets, what, 4 hours of sleep a week, there's no way he washes his hair properly.

-The only reason he showers more than once a month is because his peers in school started complaining about the smell.

-Don't get him wrong, he's got all the shit to get his hair all nice and clean (not a 3-in-1 man, sorry Victor you're alone on this one.) he just don't got the time or willpower to do it.

-Once he starts dating you he'll start taking care of himself more, and that includes his hair.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Akio’s Idea

CW: Some vague past noncon references, discussion of traumatic events, referenced minor whump, referenced Oliver being gross as shit - all vague, Akio Gets An Idea, modern slavery

(Lisa Huang appears in Teenage Dream)

“Thanks for driving down here, Lisa.” 

“No problem.” Lisa Huang pushes her glasses back up on her nose, sitting back in the hard plastic chair in the side room with its large conference table. The faint sounds of the gym are still audible here. Lisa’s got one ankle laid over the other knee, hands behind her head as she looks around. The heavy knit cap on her head is a deep saturated orange, the rest of her clothes a mix of faded gray and blacks. It makes her look, just a little, like she’s wearing a pumpkin on her head. “I needed to meet my sister for lunch some time this month, so I figured, two birds one stone. The drive down was really pretty, anyway. Wow, the gym has hardly changed at all, has it?”

“Not really.” Akio gives her a half-smile. He’s in his own casual clothes, just a hoodie over a t-shirt and jeans. He feels like she’ll see his heart beating, the way he shifts from foot to foot. Lisa was always good at reading people, better than Akio’s ever been, anyway. “New equipment, new kids, but… you know. You probably didn’t exactly get lost.”

“Ha! No. I could have walked to this room with my eyes closed.” She gestures at a large framed photo across the room, settled along a wall between two windows. “They haven’t even changed the team photo. We were, like, kids when we went there.”

Akio looks over his shoulder.

He’s right in the center of the photo, next to the old governor, smiling brightly for the camera. On either end of the line, their coaches. Spread throughout the center, all of them, a range of ages, wearing matching windbreakers and gym pants, smiling. All of them, smiling.

One of them, missing, presumed dead.

“Yeah, Mark’s still really proud of that, I guess.”

“I remember. That crusty old guy’s what got us the WRU sponsorship. Mark just about had a stroke when they wanted to do that whole marketing campaign with us.” Lisa laughs. Akio doesn’t. His nerves are shot, and he doesn’t want to make small talk about WRU. Not knowing what he knows. Not with who’s waiting in the hallway.

Lisa seems to pick up on his reticence. Her laughter fades, and she tilts her head, some of her black hair brushing along her shoulder. “Aki? What’s up, man? I haven’t talked to you in, like, six months and then you ask me to come down to the old gym and say it’s super important but you can’t say why on the phone. Talk to me, man. I don’t mind being here, but if you’re going to propose, I have some real bad news about how thoroughly I am not going to do that. Nothing personal, I don’t want that mess with anyone else, either.”

That does pull a laugh from him, and Lisa relaxes slightly. “Don’t worry, Lees, I’m not asking you to-... anything me,” Akio says, heading for the doorway to the conference room. His palms feel sweaty. His palms never feel sweaty. He can swing through the air and only feel the perfect rush of what his body can do, he can land on his feet, he broke an ankle once without a sound, but now… now he’s scared.

Scared of what he’s going to show her.

Scared of how she could react.

“I’m actually sort of dating someone,” Akio confesses, after a pause. “I mean. I think we’re dating.”

“Honestly, you not knowing if you’re dating someone or not is the most Nakamura thing I can imagine,” Lisa says cheerfully. “You haven’t changed much, either.”

Has he not? He feels like a whole different person since he found Tristan again. Like he’s aged ten years in a few weeks. A new anger burns under his skin, fury at grieving the loss of a boy who was never actually gone.

“What’s his name?”

Akio stops, hand on the doorknob, and turns to look over his shoulder at Lisa’s impish little grin. 

“Oh, fuck off, Aki, you think I didn’t know? We practically lived together at the gym. What’s his name? Is that why you wanted me here, to meet him maybe?”

“His name’s-... uh, his name’s Ben. He’s not here, but. Okay, so. There’s something I needed to show you today. I want to show everybody from the old group, but… but I wanted to start with you.” He can feel heat in his eyes, unfamiliar fear making his pulse thrum. Something in his expression makes her own smile fade.

Lisa Huang leans forward, dropping both feet to the floor. She watches him, dark eyes traveling over his face. “Aki? What’s wrong?”

Akio laughs, a little helplessly. “Just… so much is wrong, Lisa.”

“Talk to me, Nakamura. What’s going on?” Lisa’s concern is open, and genuine, and he can’t think of any way to answer except just to open the door, glancing to where Chris is waiting sitting on a bench in the hallway, and gesture him inside.

Chris comes in slowly - he’s nervous, too, and one hand grips tightly to the oversized plastic feather necklace he’s always wearing, rubbing his thumb over the carved vanes. He’d be less recognizable, Akio thinks, if he still had the long blue hair and not the short copper. As it is, he’s all giant green eyes and narrow chin, black compression shirt under a loose oversized blue one, black jeans, wearing his friend’s old black-and-white checked shoes. 

Lisa glances at him, and he’d be less recognizable, maybe, with blue hair, but Akio sees the color drain from her face as she takes in a man who is, as far as she knows, a very dead boy. She moves to stand, gets halfway up, drops back down into the seat again. “Aki-” Her voice catches, cuts off. “Akio, what-... who is-”

“Lisa.” Akio’s own voice is rough, staying close as Chris steps inside further, then stops. His thumb rubs at the plastic feather, his other hand curves over his stomach, gripping into the fabric of his t-shirt. “This is-”

“Tristan fucking Higgs.” Lisa cuts him off, getting to her feet again. “He’s-... Aki, Tristan’s-”

“A little less dead than we were supposed to think he was. This is, um. Christopher Stanton.” When Lisa looks at him, eyebrows furrowing, Akio shakes his own head in response. “He was Tristan Higgs. Our, our Tris-... but he ended up-”

“Lisa,” Chris says, suddenly, the name slotting into place in a mind where memories still slip and slide out of his awareness seemingly at will. They stick or they don’t, and Akio doesn’t know what makes the difference. His eyes light up, and he takes another two steps forward, then stops when Lisa flinches slightly back. “Lisa, um, Lisa… Lisa-... you, you, you you did, um, you did, you were good at the uneven bars, were, you you you-you… you wore the, the same ponytail holder every time you did a meet.”

Lisa’s eyes fill with tears, the glitter of them visible even across the room, and her hands come up to cover her mouth. “Oh my God,” She whispers. She sits back down, but it’s more like her legs simply stop working, dropping so heavily the chair creaks beneath her. She keeps whispering, oh my god, oh my god, over and over, her face ash-gray, her eyes locked on Chris’s face. 

“Wha-... what…” Lisa takes in a breath, and then another, and Chris moves closer to her, bit by bit. Neither of them is able to close the last foot or so of distance, and Akio watches them, his own lips pressed together into a thin line. He’d expected her to deny it, to call this a joke, to call Chris an impostor, but-

Lisa was the one closest to Tris, other than him.

Lisa remembers him well enough to see him in the older, more angular face in front of her, knows him well enough to hear in his speech and the way his fingers tap carefully on his own skin - finger-twist tap tap tap - that it’s Tristan, through and through.

“What happened to you?” Lisa manages. She sounds like she’s choking on the words.

Chris rocks a little, uncertainly, his eyes drifting to look to the windows, the walls, drifting over the framed team photos over the years. “My, my, my parents-... after-”

“I remember that. But you-... you had to go live with someone-”

“My, my aunt.” Chris’s eyes find the old photo of the team with the governor and lock on. His pale eyebrows come together a little, frowning. Something in his face goes distant. “She, she, she… she gave me up.”

Lisa looks at Akio, who nods. “It’s true, as far as I can tell. He went to stay with his mom’s sister, and then… WRU.”

“After he ran away?”

Akio swallows, and shakes his head. “He, uh. He says he never ran away.” He doesn’t mean to talk for Chris, but Chris is moving away from them, staring at the photo on the wall, wandering towards it and away from he and Lisa entirely. “She, uh. She sold him.”

Lisa jerks forward, as though she’ll be sick on the floor, and closes her eyes. “That’s not possible,” She says, in a low voice. “That can’t be what happened. They would-... nobody would do that to someone, nobody would-”

“They did it to him. He didn’t even know who he was, Lees. They gave him a new name and did that thing where they take all his memories and they sold him to someone.”

Akio knows the look on Lisa’s face. Her mind is spinning, overwhelmed. He knows the feeling, he’s cycled through it a hundred times now, his body and brain working to understand that while he was crying in his bed missing his best friend, visiting his parents’ fucking graves to leave flowers for him, Tristan was locked up somewhere, not even knowing who he was.

“But WRU only takes people who sign up on purpose.” Lisa’s hands drop. Her mouth barely moves. There’s almost no sound to the words. 

Akio takes in a breath, glancing over at Chris, standing in front of the photo of the team at the governor’s mansion. “So, I asked, he says-... that’s a lie. They… steal people. Or people get given to them, like Tris was.”

“Who-... who did they sell him to?”

“Him. I was, was, was sold to him.”

The two of them look over to where Chris is pointing at the center of the photo. Akio moves over to him, Lisa pushing herself up to follow on his heels. 

Akio’s eyes follow the line of Chris's arm, to his index finger pressed just lightly against the glass covering the photo in the frame. Lisa jerks in a breath.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” She says, voice flat, almost empty, the emotions struggling to catch up to the pile of information building up. “That’s-... that’s the governor that got fucking murdered-”

“Right before he was supposed to testify against WRU,” Akio says, blinking. “I remember. Our coach was super pissed because of the publicity. He had some kind of bombshell something that was going to-... oh. Oh shit.”

If Chris hears either of them, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking at the man in the photo, tracing the line of his face with his fingertip. 

"Right there," Chris says. “I was there.” His voice is nearly drowned out by the sound of creaking, of shouting, of bodies in the air or on mats coming in through the open door. Behind them, out in the practice area, nothing changes. Everything is the same, with Tristan and without him. Life went on.

Life goes on.

Here, though, the silence draws out, as Akio and Lisa stare at Chris's fingernail, with a star sticker stuck to it, and at the photo of the old governor, the one who died, with his arm around Akio's shoulders. Here, time stands horribly still. 

"What do you mean-... you’d been… I mean, we had been told you’d, um, that you’d… you know-"

"Under the, the, the desk." Chris taps lightly on the glass. The desk was right behind them, in the photo. His finger is tapping just behind Akio's legs. "I was... right, right, right there. He, he, he, he liked that no one ever saw me. I was there.”

Akio looks at the smile on Governor Branch's face and remembers how his skin crawled at the man's too-friendly touch. How he’d kept asking questions about Tristan, pushing until Akio had gotten upset. How he’d joked with them and Akio had gone home and taken a shower that nearly burned him from the heat just to feel clean for reasons he couldn’t explain to himself. 

How the governor kept asking about Tristan.

"I'm going to be sick," He whispers. Akio Nakamura, smiling gymnast, is standing right in front of the fucking desk. Oliver's hand curved around the ball of his shoulder and he's leaning in and, oh god, they're all smiling, all of them.

Their coaches had been so happy for the photo op.

“Tristan-” Neither of them correct Lisa on the name. “Are you-... are you saying you were under the desk when this photo was taken?” 

Lisa’s in the photo, too. She’s off to the side, not really looking at the camera, smiling tightly. Lisa never liked photos, and she didn’t even want to go to the governor’s mansion that day. Her hair was longer then. 

“Probably. Some… sometimes he would, um, he, he, he would, he would… make me wait in his, his, his room.”

“Gross,” Lisa says, weakly. “How-... how old were you?”

Chris blinks. He’s lost, Akio thinks. Inside his head, inside the memories he can’t hold on to very well. Grasping on with slippery fingers to images and thoughts that someone will have to remind him of later. “They, they, they, they told me to say I-I was eighteen.” He presses his finger directly over Oliver Branch’s face, digging the flat of it in until a smudged fingerprint nearly obscures the man’s face entirely. “They beat me un, until I said it.”

“WRU did?”

Chris nods. 

“But you weren’t…”

“No.”

"Why would Governor Branch buy-... But why..."

"Too pretty," Chris whispers. "Too, too, too pretty for... for, um, for for anything else. He, he, he… wanted young." There's a healing wound on his forehead sure to scar and his green eyes are dark and Akio should move, before he throws up on the photo.

He can't. He keeps staring at the desk, like if he tries hard enough, he can step in and tell a younger version of himself Tristan isn't dead, he's right there, just look. Just look. Just look.

Tris was right there the whole time.

While Oliver Branch looked at Akio Nakamura like dinner laid out for him on a plate, he had Tristan under his desk, and when they left he probably pulled him out from under the desk and-

Akio has to turn away, then, jamming his hands into his hoodie pockets and walking away, to the window, breathing in and out as he stares at the cars in the parking lot outside. His blood rushes in his ears, pounds through his temples. His fingers pulse.

Behind him, Lisa asks Chris about his life now, and he answers, in his familiar stammer that Akio had missed so much when he had to live without it. He talks about his brother, going to college.

All of it is-... good, that Tristan rebuilt, that he has people now, a family. But he had a family then, one he should never have had to lose. 

Akio has to let them talk, because he’s afraid if he opens his mouth he’ll start screaming.

How many people has this happened to? Akio knows the company line. People disappear into WRU sometimes, running from debt or criminal charges or homelessness, and they get a whole new life. 

But he knows the other side of it now, too. He knows Chris - he knows his dead best friend was never dead at all. He knows what happened to him. He’s met a houseful of others - Chris’s older brother with a pretty smile who told him none of us ever want it, not really. The other quiet brother who has a scar on his neck he won’t talk about. The others who stared at him when he came over, terrified to get close to him, scared he’d turn them in.

Akio has started looking at the street kids he sees sometimes and wondering who ran away from WRU and who’s going to end up there. 

He’s started to wonder if it has to be that way at all. 

When he trusts his voice again, he says, “Did-... did WRU know you were-... weren’t willing-” It’s stupid, he knows better, but he wants - he wants so badly - for it to have been some kind of terrible misunderstanding. If it is, he tells himself, he can pull back from this.

If it is, he can focus on Tristan, he can walk away from the rest. 

“They, they, they call us ‘underagers’,” Chris says, and he still doesn’t look away from Oliver Branch’s face. “We, we, we have special rooms. They… know. We’re... we, we, we... we sell for more. After I, I waas rescued they, um, they they they sent people once. To take me back. My, my, my brother kept me safe.”

Akio feels a rush of heat that threatens to burn him alive in his own fury. WRU has been giving the team money and marketing opportunities and bullshit since-... since they met the governor, who had been the one to hook them up with WRU in the first place, and… and the whole time he’d known what happened to Tristan, he was what happened to Tristan, Governor Branch and his oily fucking voice and his stupid jokes and he had Tristan the whole time.

WRU knew.

They know.

They’re still doing it, probably, hurting people like Chris, sending fucking SWAT teams after them if they get out. How many people are out there hurting like this?

There’s an idea that’s been building in the back of his mind. Foggy, barely-formed. But as his anger lights him up, Akio feels the pieces coming together. Speaking up, speaking out, telling people what happened to his best friend will probably ruin his career. It could ruin his life.

But there are a lot of people like Tristan Higgs whose lives are already ruined. A whole lot more whose lives will be if nobody ever stops it. 

If he’s going to speak out, he might as well make sure everyone is listening.

“Lisa, do you still speak to the girls from the Canadian team?”

She nods, frowning. “Yeah, I speak to a bunch of different people still. Why?”

Akio looks over at Chris, at Tristan Higgs’s face. The last day he saw Tristan was at his parents’ funeral, wearing an ill-fitting suit and rocking against the weight of grief, his aunt saying it’d be awhile before he could come back to practice.

He’d never returned.

Then the texts stopped, then his aunt said he’d run off, then she said they’d found his body. Then then then. One lie after another, so she could fucking sell him. So WRU could make money off someone who needed help, who Akio couldn’t hear crying for him, for someone, for anyone, to get him out of this. 

Akio turns back, and to Lisa and Chris he’s nearly a silhouette of darkness backlit by the light from outside. 

“What if we-... what if we make it so WRU can’t do this anymore?”

“How?”

“I have an idea. Just... what if we make it so nobody can ignore what’s really happening anymore?”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @cubeswhump ,  @whump-tr0pes  @whumpiary @downriver914 @vickytokio

[panicinart]

🔞Nsfw alphabet🔞

🍪 06 Billy Lenz 🍪

This was at the beginning just a giant ramble on my part but then I decided to just make it a nsfw alphabet since a lot of the things I already wrote fit under the category's. Because not all 100% fit in it I changed a few things on the templates I found and made more or less one of my own, i guess it's more detailed???

also i feel on one part really fucking awkward and uncomfortable because of the backstory he has :/ I just ignored it hope that's okay UwU

Idk, I hope you guys enjoy it !

Edit: I sadly can't add a under the cut thingy apparantly it's broken on mobile and I'm only on mobile for tumblr. Sorry :(

A = Aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

🍪The after glow makes him feel more vulnerable then the whole act itself, kinda like post nut clarity. Please be soft and gentle with him. Wait a few minutes until he gathered himself and ask if it's okay to touch him.

🍪If he assures you it's okay 👏HUG👏THIS👏MAN👏. A big and gentle bear hug, small kisses around the eyebrows, cheek and forehead, he will MELT in your arms like sweet honey.

🍪He will nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck a bit, you will also hear some soft muttering from him. Nothing that really makes sense, but it's clear that they are small declarations of love.

B = Body part (how is their body build? any favorite body part of them and their partner?)

🍪He has a bit of a belly, enough to squeeze but not enough to get a full hand. He also has a good a amount of muscle, especially on the arm and shoulder area.

🍪To be honest Billy doesn't really have any favorite body part of himself, since the day of his trauma he doesn't really concentrate on how his body is, how it feels, what he likes or doesn't like. But if His s/o has any favorite body part on him and they tell Billy what it is, it will make his day and watches out to keep it healthy and the way his partner likes it.

🍪Billy really likes his partners cheeks and eyes. Your cheeks color themself into a pretty pinkish red when embarrassed or flustered, and your eyes are a gateway to your many emotions, they also have such a pretty, warm and welcoming twinkling in them when you look at him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

🍪More on the translucent type and heavy on the tongue. It is a normal amount and the taste a bit bitter. At first it has a strong taste but fades away quite quickly.

🍪It's also more watery and a bit sticky kinda like honey.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, do they have a dirty secret?)

🍪My guy has bit of a masochistic tendency, he ignores it and doesn't want to talk about it. You will finde out eventually how deep the rabbit hole goes.

🍪He also wishes to be more on the submissive side for Intimacy but his own mind doesn't allow it. The risk on geting a PTSD flashback and panic attack is to high, so it just stays as a fantasy.

E = Experience (do they know what they're doing?)

This is the part I ignore because I fell REALLY uncomfortable about it

F = Favorite position (which position(s) do the like the most?)

🍪He likes it too keep it traditional, plain old missionary style, but anything were he is on top and has full few of your body is good! It will just take some time until he is willing to try new positions.

G = Goofy (are they more serious or do the like to clown around?)

🍪Dead serious, no laughing no joking. If you joke around you can see his distaste on his face, he also makes an annoyed click noise with his tongue and roll his eyes.

🍪It's more because it makes him feel like you don't take it seriously, the way he shows himself for you the amount of trust he shows, it all makes him feel like you don't respect it or take it for granted.

🍪But that doesn't mean you can't laugh around if something awkwardly funny happens, like bumping heads or geting too tangled up. If Billy is in a good mood you might catch a smirk on his face.

H = Hair (any hair down there? How do they groom it?)

🍪The hair is relatively strong and straight, it isn't really long and well kept. It's the same color as the hair on the head.

🍪If it gets too out of hand he will trim it with a razor.

I = Intimacy (how are they during sex in a romantic aspect?)

🍪The hands wander a bit and massages any place Billy can reach (usually the arms and hips). He also always keeps eye contact, you don't need to do it back, but his intense stare will always be on you.

🍪Kisses, gentle touches, him nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck happens quite frequently. He also might stop for a second to admire your beauty.

J = Jack off / Jill off (how do they masturbate and how often?)

🍪He goes straight to it, fast and relatively rough pumps he usually uses his hands but somehow he got his fry fingers on a simple fleshlight, he sometimes uses it.

🍪Will clean up IMMEDIATELY

🍪It's really rare Billy jack's off and often he just ignores the glimpse of horniness he has. So maeby once or twice a month max.

K = Kink (any kinks?)

🍪At the beginning my guy is very vanilla but Billy finds what he enjoys very quickly.

🍪One kink you both indulge is mutual masturbatetion. Sometimes he doesn't feel secure enough for sex so it's a good way to please the need of intimacy. Plus watching his partner touching themself and making a small show for him is really hot.

🍪You have 3 guesses what comes next. Yep it's voyeurism, he isn't that much into it like OG Billy but he still enjoys it nonetheless. Just walk around with barely any clothes and do your usual stuff, you will catch him starring at you from a corner with a heavy blush on his cheeks.

🍪He is also into cockwarming, Billy often keeps his dick inside his s/o for a while after he came. He loves how close it makes him feel towards you and the comforting warmth you give.

🍪Orgasm denial on himself, you don't even need to start it he probably already started it himself, but you can encourage Billy to hold it back longer.

🍪He also enjoys edging, he indulges in it more often then he likes to admit

For some reason I headcanon that he is also into sounding but it's a guilty pleasure of his

L = Location (were do they like to have sex?)

🍪Bed, it's nice warm and comfy. But with some time he also is willing to have sex on the couch.

M = Motivation (what turns them on/gets them going?)

🍪The jaw and back of the ear is a great place to give kisses and soft touches, it's calming and reassuring for him, but also a turn on.

🍪The inner thighs is also a place if you want to turn him on but good god the man has some self control.

🍪Billy absolutely melts when his partner cuddles up to him, he might stiffen up a bit but the cute expression you have and the way you snuggle up to him warms his cold crusty heart (and it also makes his body go brrrrr).

🍪If his partner, like mentioned before, walks around with bairly any clothes, phew, he will lighten up like a Christmas tree.

N= No (what's a turn off/they don't want to do?)

🍪Anything were the consent isn't clear or maeby questionable (consensual noncon).

🍪He also refuses to hurt his partner even if they ask for it, the only thing you might get is a soft slap on the inner thigh if you act bratty.

🍪Billy being submissive is a no too, he needs to be in control and therefore is always the dom.

O = Oral (do they like to give or receive? How is their skill? How do they react during receiving?)

🍪He is really good at oral! The tounge is quite thick and a bit longer then the norm so he reaches all the right places and it will take a really long time until his jaw aches.

🍪It's also a way he pleasures his partner if the needed inner security isn't there, he just goes down on you until you scream in pleasure and beg him to stop.

🍪Billy is a bit embarrassed if you suggest to him to go down, but accepts it after a while of thinking, and let me tell you, he is a MESS.

🍪He really tries to stay calm and stoic, but his heavy breathing and restlessness say otherwise. He also often chokes out a moan and gulps heavily.

🍪When he cums his head falls back and lets out a shameless moan, with a desperate attempt to keep face Billy claps a hand on his mouth to stifle out the moan.

P = Pace (how is their thrusting? Hard, fast, deep ect)

🍪Slow and more on the sensual side but it is clear as day that he is nervous and cramps up. His whole body is tense and in between he just freezes up. Give him time, the best is to mimic his pace.

🍪It's very nice and calming. He might be bad at showing affection but you can feel the passion and love he gives every touch and move. The thrust are slow and rhythmic but also hard and deep.

Q = Quickie (do they like Quickies, if yes how often?)

🍪He doesn't like it, sex is a way to express his love and passion for you it's never about lust, quickies don't give him the time to show you his affection.

R = Risk (any risk their willing to do?)

🍪He can be the bottom if asked, you both need clear instructions on what to do and what not. Safe words is also a must + a lot of Aftercare.

S = Stamina (how long can they go? How long do they last?)

🍪It's usually 2 rounds but they're loooong. Billy's self control is going strong and one round can last up to 30-45 min if you both want to take your precious time. If you both are going hard on the orgasm denial he can last up to a hour.

T = Toys (any toys they like? If yes, what toys do they like on themselves and on their partner?)

🍪He doesn't really have an opinion on them, they exist, he used / tryd out a few but he is kind of meh about it.

🍪The only toy he uses is a see-through simple fleshlight.

🍪Billy is also okay with his s/o using toys on themselves, he encourages it a bit since he's not always able to meet their needs.

🍪If you want him to use toys on you, you need to ask and explain what they do. He knows simple dildos and vibrators but if they don't look like traditional dicks he is lost and doesn't know what it is for / how to use it. (Billy is kinda iffy about bondage stuff and things that can hurt his partner).

Use a sounding rod, but sssshhh you don't have that info from me

U = Unfair (are they a tease? How do they react if teased?)

🍪Sometimes he is a smug bastard that likes to tease you and wait until his partner begs him to continue, especially if he goes down. But that's really it.

🍪If Billy is the one that is getting teased he can take that shit like a champ. But after a while his walls break and he becomes a blushy mess, depending with what you tease him he will look away shyly. But don't go overboard.

V = Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

🍪 Billy rarely talks or makes any noise if not non, so you need to learn how to read his body language, it's okay if you don't succeed at the beginning, the man is hard to read.

🍪 The only noise you get from him are deep growly grunts, huff's if you're really good he will choke up a moan.

W = Wild card (random nsfw headcanon(s))

🍪Oof sex going to take a loooooonnnng time until he feels comfy with it. The trauma in his past is the main reason why he feels so conflicted with it.

🍪It probably will take MONTHS when not a year until he feels comfortable with it (and doesn't shove away his horniness) but when it happens it's very spontaneous. Nothing that he plans.

🍪When you both managed to get undress fully, foreplay is a must! Not only can you both learn what is the right place to touch and what not, it's also a good way to show him a positive side of sex and that it isn't just a game of lust.

🍪Also small note here it's normal that he dips out of sex, he could get a flashback or just doesn't feel comfortable with it anymore. If that happens, just give him space maeby a cup of hot chocolate and if he allows it some back rubs to calm down. Assure him it's okay and he doesn't need to pressure himself. You both probably need like 2 or 3 times until it goes to the meat of the things.

🍪Usually a top dom, if you both are together for a longer time he might goes bottom dom, but these moments are rare.

🍪The giving and receiving in general is mostly balanced but honestly only because he needs the reassurance of your love so baldy, if it wasn't for that, he would mostly do the work,(the control it gives him helps to fight against any nervousness and fear that there might be hiding).

🍪So if your a bit of a pillow princess / prince / heir to the throne you got the right partner!

X = X-ray (what's going on under those clothes?)

*cracks knuckles* 'aight, let's fucking go

🍪Billy is shorter then average not by much, but oh boy he is THICK. This makes him roughly about 5,2 inches in length and 6.5 girth when erect.

The avrage American dick is in length 6 inches and girth 5, as comparison

🍪He has two notable veins on the underside, their sensitive so give it a good lick, you will feel him shudder.

🍪His junk also hangs a bit, about a 50�� degree angle, it varies a bit depends how aroused he is.

🍪And it is also yellow like the rest of Billy's body, just not that intense and on the tip, it has less of a yellow and more of a caucasian skin color.

Y = Yearning (how high is their libido?)

🍪 He isn't that interested in sex so it's pretty low. I headcanon him as demisexual.

🍪On is own he may have sex once a month or so.

Z = Zzz (how quickly do they fall asleep?)

🍪Billy's s/o will fall asleep faster then him, always. He uses this moment to play with his partners hair or give them a few kisses.

[paperpocalypse]

red.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 20. Washing their back/hair in the shower.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader 

Word Count: 1,662 words

Warning: Implied/referenced murder

[A/N: No shower, just sticking Five’s head underneath a sink faucet. Also Villain!AU :)]

It really was too bad.

You had liked Elliott – honestly, you did, and you don’t like a lot of people. Sure, he was ridiculously paranoid, and his Jell-O molds boasted flavors that could alter the timeline all by themselves. But he had been a nice man, a harmless man, and you don’t like killing nice, harmless men unless you have to. Personally, anyway.

If only he had been cooperative for a few more hours …!

“What a shame,” you murmur, tucking the last corner of the blanket underneath his head. At least taking a bullet to the heart was almost as quick as being incinerated by a nuclear missile. Somewhat. In any case, you think to yourself as you stand up, he’s as good as gone; Diego and Luther will probably want to bury him once they get back. Societal convention, and all that.

“Anybody still here?”

(Speak of the devils and they will appear –)

“In here,” you call out, smoothing out your clothes and hurrying into the kitchen before the two brothers – mainly Diego – can make their own conclusions about the living room. As expected, they greet you with suspicious frowns as you come to a stop in front of them.

“What’s going on?” Diego demands.

“Hello to you, too,” you reply lightly. The man only narrows his eyes, and you scratch the back of your head, absently wondering if he does, in fact, like you enough not to turn you into a knife block. “So … things got a bit out of hand with Elliott while you guys were out.”

“What do you mean?” Luther asks.

You shrug. “I had no choice.”

“No choice?”

Diego’s jaw clenches, and he pushes past you towards the living room. “What did you do to him?”

“What he would’ve done to me if I hadn’t shot him first,” you reply evenly. You linger on the boundary between the kitchen and the living room, staying a respectful distance away as they stare down at the covered body. “If it makes it any better, it was quick. I didn’t torture him or anything like that. Not that I know how to.”

“Lucky for him,” Diego retorts. Nevertheless, his expression is calmer that you thought it’d be, and it puts you less on edge. It’s obvious that he’s still upset about it, however. “At least he didn’t suffer too much.”

“Yeah. He didn’t have much time left, anyway.”

The two brothers nod reluctantly, glancing at each other and then down at the body. You cross your arms, fingers brushing the hand-sized weapon just above your hip as Diego turns and bumps past you towards the door again. Probably to find a shovel. Luther, the big old softie, lifts Elliott from the red-leather sofa where you had wrapped him up.

He moves toward the front door as well but stops in front of you, uncertain. “You wanna …?” he starts, motioning the body towards you slightly.

You shake your head. “You two should do it. I already did my part.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I know you got along with him pretty well, and –”

You cut his rambling off with a pat to the back, ushering him along – if you look at the Elliott-shaped cargo in his arms any longer, you might actually start feeling guilty. “I’m one hundred percent positive. Just hurry up, yeah?”

He blinks down at you, then nods. “Okay. Just – come down if you change your mind.”

“Sure thing.”

With that, the hulk of a man wanders away with Elliott, and you walk over to the now vacant couch. Sitting down, you press your palms down into the leather. Is it still slightly warm? You resist the thought of standing back up and lean into the backrest instead. Jesus, you’re getting soft. He was expendable. There’s a thousand more Elliotts out there in a thousand more timelines, anyway.

Inhaling deeply, you take your pistol out. The barrel has, of course, cooled down by now, and you inspect it with careful fingers. But before you can take aim at one of the UFOs tacked onto the far wall, you hear a sound downstairs.

“Five?”

His footsteps are nimbler than usual as he climbs up the stairs. You put the pistol down and push yourself out of your seat, blinking in surprise as the teenage, bloodstained face of your partner comes into view. Everything about him is bloodstained, actually.

Save for the black suitcase gripped like a lifeline in his hand.

“So that’s where you disappeared to?” you exclaim, immediately taking the suitcase from Five and placing it on the coffee table as you shepherd him to the bathroom. “A killing spree without me? I had to settle for the conspiracy man.”

“You did it already?”

“It was in self-defense.”

Five scoffs lightly, shedding his jacket and leaving it on a chair as the two of you walk through the kitchen. “I’m sure it was.”

“It’s true! I mean –” pushing the bathroom door open, you consider, “fine, I got a little stir crazy while everyone was gone. But I didn’t think he’d pull the rifle on me.” You turn on the sink and feel the water run through your fingers, cold and then warm. Perfect. “But enough about me. Whose blood did you bathe in?”

Five loosens his tie. “The board’s,” he tells you.

He keeps his expression professional, but there’s no mistaking the pride just begging to surface in his tone. You raise an eyebrow and hum, tugging him closer to the sink by his tie.

“Impressive. But there’s more, isn’t there?” you guess, trying not to sound like an eager child. Your eyes rove over his profile. “Here, let me wash your hair. It’s getting crusty.”

He rolls his eyes but leans over the sink nevertheless, grunting a bit when you push his head underneath the faucet. Pink water streams down onto the white porcelain and into the drain. As you lather up a bar of soap and begin scrubbing his hair, he speaks, his voice somewhat muffled by the lip of the sink. “I offed the Handler, if that’s what you’re asking.”

A grin spreads across your face. You rinse the last of the bubbles from Five’s hair. “It was.”

“You sound happy.”

“I’m ecstatic.” Running your fingers over his hair one last time, you force your hand off to grab a towel. “Almost everything’s in place now, isn’t it?”

“All there’s left to do is reset the suitcase, have Vanya blow up something next to JFK, and then all of us can head to Commission headquarters.” Removing his head from underneath the faucet, Five holds out a hand and you place the towel in it. “Smooth sailing from there.”

“Well, I do love a good boat ride.”

He huffs out a chuckle as he finishes drying his hair, running the towel under the water again. Your heart turns soft and goopy when his eyes dart to meet yours knowingly, just for a split second, before he wrings the towel out to wipe the blood from his face.

It’s a moment you’d like to savor a little longer, but the image of the suitcase in the living room inevitably shakes you out of it.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it while I work on resetting the suitcase,” you tell him. “Shouldn’t take too long – ten minutes or so. I hope all of your siblings are back by then.”

“Highly doubt it,” you hear him mutter as you head out the door, and you don’t bother to hide a snort. Each one of the Hargreeves – Five included, even though he often acts like he’s above it – has a fondness for wreaking their own special kind of havoc on each timeline. Might as well have some fun before pulling the plug on humanity, after all. Burn your name into the book before it closes.

You slip into Elliott’s bedroom to grab a hangar, then head over to the living room. The suitcase sits innocently where you had left it; you carefully undo the latches and open the case just enough to sneak the hook in. Each one of this particular model has a sweet spot – and you could find it in your sleep. You had helped design the damn thing, after all. Not that your contributions were ever appreciated.

No, Dr. Geraldine Tynnsdale had to be a “true kindred spirit with the vision of the Commission” for the past twenty-five years.

Taking credit for everything.

After some careful prodding, you feel a satisfying click.

“There we go,” you praise the suitcase, withdrawing the hangar and popping the lid open. A sense of adoration fills your chest, replacing your feelings of malice as you stare at the familiar array of knobs and buttons. Beautiful. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

Just as you thought, it takes less than ten minutes to get everything in order. The bathroom door unlocks just as you finish inputting the coordinates for headquarters, and you look up at Five (who’s now sporting a freshly cleaned uniform, at least for the visible bloodstains) with a self-satisfied smile as he approaches the sofa. Overwhelming pride for a job well done fills your bones; you had missed your projects dearly these past two weeks.

“Ready?” He tilts his head contentedly, hands in his pockets.

“Ready,” you echo, standing up. “I suppose we’ll have to round up your siblings now.”

The flat look on Five’s face makes you snort again, and you pick up the suitcase while placing your other hand in the crook of his elbow, escorting the two of you towards the back door where Luther and Diego had gone. 

Soon, you think, you’ll be free. Free to do whatever you like, make whatever you like, with Five at your side and no one to answer to but yourself. 

A smile graces your face as you squeeze Five’s arm. Whoever said that happy endings don’t exist for people like you?

[angxlyxn]

pet - dabi x f. reader

summary: Dabi is intent on showing everyone just who you belong to.

warnings: NONCON, light smut, obsessive behavior, burning/branding, captivity, talk about body weight/appearance, emotional and physical abuse, suicidal/dark thoughts

a/n: hello lovelies!  this is actually my first requested piece on this account, and was sent in by the lovely @hotwings0203 <33.  i’m sorry that it’s not some of my best work, because i wasn’t entirely sure how to approach writing for someone like Dabi, but i tried my best!  thank you so much for requesting this love, it was so fun to write and i hope you enjoy it anyways!

wc: ~2.8k

“Hey, dollface.”

You jolted up at the sound of the harsh voice, the gruffness of it scratching against your ears and causing you to cringe a bit.  

“Look at me, won’t you mousey?”  He called again.  You hesitantly shifted in your spot, turning to face Dabi with a blank expression on your face.  You made an effort to show as little emotion as possible, flattening out your features and trying not to give him an opportunity to take advantage of your natural timidity.  

“Come ‘ere,” he said simply, a bit of bile catching in your throat as he jerked his fingers towards himself, the motion reminiscent of an owner calling an unruly pet to his side.  You carefully walked up to him, each step sending a series of prickles through your toes, the soft skin on your feet feeling as though it was being punctured by a bunch of needles.  

He held a palm up just as you reached him, signaling you to stop and wait for his next command.  Like a pet.  He smirked a bit at your obedience, dropping his hand lazily onto his lap and leaning back into his chair, legs widening and posture relaxing as his cerulean eyes drank in your stilled body.  

“Hm..You’re getting too thin, angelface.”  His calloused hand shot out, grazing your stomach and pressing into your hip bone.  “You’re all skin and bone,” he said with a little too much glee.  

You couldn’t deny his remarks.  You had been here for so, so long, and taking care of you wasn’t exactly Dabi’s first priority.  The sickly way that your shoulder bones were pushing through your skin and the torn babydoll covering your body attested to that.  The nightgown that so sparsely covered you wasn’t even yours, in fact, but one that Dabi had mysteriously obtained from a house that he definitely did not burn down.  

“Come,” he said simply, resting a hand down on his lap.  It was not a suggestion, but a command.  You shamefully lowered your eyes, obediently following his directions and sitting upon his knees in a less than graceful fashion.  Your back was fully upright, form tense and rigid in the uncomfortable position.  Dabi, however, was not a fan of your reluctance, and suddenly wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you backwards into his chest and grazing the top of your head with his scarred chin.  You fell into him, limp and powerless against his vice-like grip on your torso, feeling much like a ragdoll as you rested your body against his.  

A laugh bubbled out of Dabi’s lips as he held you.  “Really, look at your ribs!”  He said, snatching up the hem of the gown and pulling it up to your chest.  You flinched at the exposure, still not fully accustomed to the fact that he could do that to you, that he could do anything to you.  His hand moved down to your lower half, pressing into your hip bone uncomfortably and toying with it in a disgusting manner.  Still his fingers fell lower, gripping your inner thigh and grazing over your clothed heat, an involuntary shiver erupting across your legs as he did so.  

“Little whore,” he chuckled lightly.  He finally released your dress, letting it settle back over your legs and he pulled his other hand away from where it was laying tantalizingly upon your creamy thigh.  You let out a breath that you were holding in as he did so, glad to be free from his teasing touches.  His fingers settled in your hair, petting it lightly, although his gentle massaging provided you with little comfort.  Instead, they just felt patronizing.  

Your body jolted as he fastened his fingers on your scalp, pulling harshly on your locks and flinging your chin backwards as he tugged.  A gasp left your lips, followed by a light whimper as you moved to try and resist him, body squirming and fingers pulling against his arms pathetically.   “Now tell me,” he spoke as you struggled.  “Why aren’t I enough for you?”  You looked at him, confused, your body stilling despite his burning grip on your hair.  

“W-What?”

“I see how you act around crusty over there,” he said, nodding to the door that led out of his bedroom.  You assumed that he was talking about Shigaraki, the nickname seeming too cruel for the man, who had been at least more civil to you than Dabi ever was.  “You basically whore yourself out to him and the other guys whenever I allow you to talk to ‘em.  Fucking beggar.”

“I don’t k-know what you mea-”

“God, really?  It’s bad enough that you’re a slut, but turns out you’re stupid too,”  He said, seething.  “The way you talk to them, like you’re begging for them to fuck you.  The way you let your dress ride up on your legs when you sit near them.  I see it all, dolly.”  You cringed once more at the nickname.  You thought about his accusations, trying to look for a way out of this situation, preferably one where you don’t end up with burn marks all over your neck.  Survival instincts kicked in as you softened your body, turning your brows up slightly and pouting a bit.  You looked like a child, or maybe a lost puppy.  Exactly what Dabi liked.

“I’d never give myself to anyone b-but you,” you said, slurring your words and stuttering purposefully.  

“Mm..” Dabi hummed.  “Really pet?”  

You shook your head affirmatively, swallowing down the bile that had made its home in your throat.  He looked down upon you, his eyes gleaming contentedly, cerulean orbs penetrating the dim light of the room.  

“Prove it.”

Your eyes widened a bit, pupils dilating as a smirk stretched across his cruel face.  

“Down.”  His eyes flicked to the floor, gazing upon the cold cement that lay beneath his planted feet.  His grip on your hair released as you moved to get up, legs shaking as you lowered yourself before him, kneeling on the icy floor.  

“You know what to do now, don’t you pet?”  You gulped heavily at his words, letting your eyes drift to the sickening bulge in his pants.  Trembling hands reached out and undid his belt, your fingers fumbling awkwardly with the buckle as you did so.  

“Good.”  You watched with bated breath as he slid his pants button out of its hole and unzipped his pants.   He reached into his boxers next, freeing his cock and looking down at you expectantly.  

You reached your hands out once more, this time taking hold of his throbbing member.  Your fingers grew slick with a bit of precum, delicate digits tracing it down his shaft as you massaged it.  Dabi’s head fell back as you finally took his dick into your mouth and maneuvered yourself closer to him, just as you knew he would want.  Your tongue glided over it, caressing the veins that sat on his length as you licked up and down his cock.  He let out a sinful groan, letting his hand wander to your hair and grabbing your locks back up between his calloused digits.  

“Hnnn...Little whore, that’s right…” He murmured, looking down on you with a piercing gaze.  “Getting..close,” he said, and you took this as your sign to up your already strenuous pace.  You nursed him to his climax, cringing as he finally peaked, a moan tumbling involuntarily from your lips as he began to shake.  He emptied his load into your mouth, ribbons of white painting your throat like a canvas.  A gasp left you as he pushed you back, causing you to scrape your hands against the floor beneath you as you caught yourself, seed dribbling down your chin and falling onto the silken fabric of your nightdress.  He stared you down, catching his breath as he tucked himself back into his pants.  

“Swallow.”  The word came out breathy and depraved.  Your eyes widened a bit.  You never got used to this part, despising the taste of the salty streams that always coated your mouth after your sessions.  Cringing, you willfully gulped down and licked the area around your lips, gazing up at him with watery eyes, just as you knew he liked.  

Dabi looked down at your disheveled state, eyes roaming over your body and brows downturning in fake pity.  He reached his hand out, gliding his finger beneath your lash line and gleaning the tears that had gathered there.  “Poor little slut…” He drew his tear-coated finger from your face, lifting it to his mouth and running his tongue along the wet digit.  He rubbed his hand against his charcoal colored pants before standing up, purposefully stepping over your vulnerable form and accidentally clamping the sole of his shoe down on your locks, which were splayed across the chilled floor of the room.

You whimper in pain, the tug on your hair adding to your already aching headache.  He gazed back down at you, mockery swirling within his cruel eyes.  “I’m sorry angel, did that hurt?”  He pouted down at you.  His words were far too enunciated, making you feel like a child as you laid helplessly.  “Here, let me help you up.”  Dabi reached his arm out for you to grab, intertwining his long fingers with your quivering hand.  

He pulled up on your arm, dragging you upwards from the floor.  Just as you thought the whole ordeal was over, you felt a searing pain spread through your hand.  You tried your hardest to tug away from the man, who was now wearing a sickening grin on his face as the familiar burn of his flames licked across your palm.  “Agh!” You screamed in anguish as you writhed around.  “Stop it!  STOP!  PLEASE!” He doesn’t cease his torture, instead just looking on as the flames began to dance up your arm.  

Before you can even try to beg him again, he begins to speak, voice uncharacteristically soft. “Oh dollface, you know I can’t stop.  I got to prove to everyone that you’re my favorite little plaything.  My little doll.”  You looked at him in complete horror and began to scream, your full body convulsing at the sheer pain that he was inflicting on you.  You watched him out of the corner of your tear-brimmed eyes as his eyes widened at your thrashing form.  The pain suddenly lessened as his grip on your hand let up, but your arm was still throbbing. You were certain that it was going to scar.  

Looking down, you realized that the burn had managed to form some sort of spiral pattern around your arm, the burn marks looking almost akin to vines.   Sliding down the wall and cradling your injured arm, you sobbed to yourself, not even taking notice as Dabi left the room.  Your only focus was on your limp limb, and the horribly apparent scars that now covered it.  

Dabi shut the door behind him, clicking the lock into place and leaning against it for support.  His head was spinning, thoughts mingling and grating against the expanse of his mind. For some reason, seeing you so utterly despaired and broken after he burned you had pained him. He tried vainly to push that thought from his mind, the very notion of empathy so foreign to him that it disgusted him, that it repulsed him to his very core.  Before he knew it, his mind had wandered over to his childhood, to the many tortuous years that he had long sought to forget.  He remembered the cruel way that Enji had conducted himself around his mother, the way that he would shove her around and condescend her without a care in the world.  He shook the thoughts off quickly, pushing away the guilt that was slowly climbing through his stomach and threatening to suffocate him if he spent too much time thinking about it.  Before long, that shit eating grin he always seemed to wear returned to his face.  He thought about the marks he had given you, the expanse of charred skin that now covered your boney arms.  Now everyone knew that you belonged to him, as they should.  You were his property, and others should know not to touch what belongs to him, what is rightfully his.  And you were just this.

You jolted up from your position at the click of a door, dropping your arm which you were previously nursing.  You backed away from his looming form as he entered the room, shutting your eyes tightly and clutching your arms to close to your chest.  You felt Dabi’s presence before you as he crouched down to your level, slowly reaching out for your singed arm.  You whimper as you sensed him growing closer, your eyes quietly cracking open and falling on his larger frame.  You braced for his touch, drawing into yourself and shielding your face with your hands as he approached you, waiting for a strike or another flame against your milky skin.  All you felt, however, was a benign grasp on your burnt arm. You hissed in pain, trying desperately to pull it back, but his hold on you wasn’t letting up, not even slightly.  

“Please..let go of me.  Just.. even killing me would be more merciful than this.  Dabi, at this point...” You whimpered out pathetically, stopping short as the tears pooling in your eyes betrayed you and began to stream down your reddened cheeks, the trickles of tears a testament to how truly afraid you were.  His sudden change in demeanor had only seemed to scare you more, uncharacteristically kind eyes boring into your own.  

“You know doll, I’ve done so much to get and keep you here. Do you really think I’m going to let you go that easily?  Honestly?  I didn’t think you were that dumb.”  You cringed at his pointed words.  “Hmm.. I don’t plan on letting go of you for...however long you live, I suppose,” he finished, punctuating the threatening sentence with a chuckle.  You didn’t dare say anything else as he dropped your wrist, charred arm falling into your lap. Dabi lifts his head to meet yours, sapphire gaze piercing through you.  He kept eye contact as he grasped your singed arm, bringing your heavy hand to his mouth and pressing a few chaste kisses against your sensitive knuckles.  

You gathered your wits and courage as you averted your eyes from him.  “Why are you doing this?  You’re never..like this.”  He just stares at you, standing himself up and backing away from your form.

A few chuckles fall from his lips, the grating sound swiftly turning into full blown laughter as he wrapped his scarred arms around his chest.  “I forgot how much I loved that fearful look in your eyes.  The way you stare at me like I hold your life in my hands.  It’s so..satisfying.  But you know, I’ve still got to be nice to my doll every once in a while.  Can’t have my little toy breaking, now can I?”  You looked up at him, horrified at his condescending words.  “Now, I wish I could stay, but I’ve gotta go.”  Your eyes glistened as he began to stride away from you, calling back to you over his shoulder. “More heroes to kill and chaos to create, you know the drill.  I’ll see you later babe. Be good for me,” he smirked. And with that, he left you alone again, locking the door behind him as he paced out of the room as though nothing had even happened.

Once you were certain that he was gone, you let yourself go. Tears poured down the apples of your cheeks and you muttered out a silent prayer, hoping that someone, anyone would hear you and free you from this horrendous place.  You weeped until you tired yourself out, eventually letting yourself fall asleep.  All you hoped for as you fell into your slumber was that it would be your last rest, and that soon it would be the salvation of death that would be taking you, rather than the cold embrace of sleep.  Anything would be better than staying here another day, and if dying was what it took to leave, you didn’t care.  You just needed to get out.

You refused to be just a mouse caught in Dabi’s trap.  But deep down, you knew that might be exactly what you will remain as, for the rest of your miserable days.  An animal.  A toy.  

A pet.