#i'm not kidding i will burn everything to the ground

[lasshoe]

[bandgie]

Stuffing to Give

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, AGE GAP, reader has an asshole family, hickeys (brief mention), cumming inside, Yunho bites once, clothe tearing, no protection, size kink if you squint, Yunho says 'young pussy', stomach bulge mention

3.5k words

notes! sorry I've been gone, life or whatever. buuutttt happy holidays! this fic took me too long but for being in a drought, I'm proud of it. hope you enjoy :) (divider from @/anitalenia) tag! @desirehorizon

“You know, you should be looking for a husband. Not worrying about your classes or anything like that. No man likes a woman too smart for her own good.”

It was your mom who opened the can of worms during Thanksgiving. The air was already uncomfortable being that distant family who were more like strangers sat at the dinner table, but mentioning that you’ve been single for so long, at such an ‘old age’, made everything a thousand times worse. 

You’re not even old. Some would argue being in your mid-20s was still very young. 

But no matter how much you’ve tried to defend yourself. No matter how many times you said you just wanted to focus on furthering your education, your aunts and uncles pressed one and one thing only. 

Your uncle lifted his fork to his greasy lips, the white meat of the turkey forcing itself into his already stuffed mouth. “Y’know, your youth will only last you for so long. You’ll end up an old cat lady and regret not settling down.”

Regret. You hate that word, as if these people know anything about you, let alone have a right to say how you should live. The food you're trying to swallow feels too big for your throat. There’s a burning in your chest. A feeling you’ve tried desperately to suppress since the holidays started. 

Anger. Hate. Hurt. Disgust. Fear.

You don’t want to be here anymore. 

Dramatically, you throw your fork on the table. The silverware clatters harshly against your plate and bounces until it lands on the other side of the table. The chatter stops immediately, all eyes on you as you stand so quickly the chair topples to the ground.

A pin could drop and it would echo in the quiet room. 

“You know what? Fuck this. Fuck you. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me getting knocked up. It’s fucking weird. Get off my dick.”

Aunts gasp. Some Uncles laugh. But your mom, her eyes are so wide and shocked as if she wasn’t the one who started this whole issue and didn’t do anything to defend you. 

Her own daughter. 

“And you.” You look at her, but it’s hard when your vision blurs. “When I do find a husband, and when I do have kids, don’t expect to hear from me.”

Voices call your name as you turn away. Someone tries to hold you back by the forearm, but you tear from their grasp. Your only goal is to get the fuck out of there, heading for the front door and slamming it on your way out.

It’s cold. A gentle breeze blows your hair as you turn to the side of the house. The crunch of leaves sounds on the ground therapeutically. You can’t help but look at the pretty orange and brown beneath your feet. It’s the only thing keeping your frustrating tears from falling. 

But you don’t see that there’s already someone at the side of the house with your gaze on the ground. You forget how close the houses are in this neighborhood.

“Bad day I take it?”

You lift your head, surprised to see someone already at your spot. The sun is setting despite the early hours. The only thing illuminating his face are the porch lights. His cheekbones are high. His brown hair is decorated with a few gray strands, framing his handsomeness perfectly. His lips curve into a smile, but more friendly than humorous. 

Shit, you’re staring. “Oh you know, just family butting in when they shouldn’t.”

He grins at that. “Ah, good ol’ holiday joy. I can’t stand them either. Pretending they know me when they don't.”

Relief settles on your shoulders. At least you aren’t alone. “I know right? They change my diaper once and suddenly think they know what’s good for me.”

The man laughs. His smile lines deepen at his lips and his eyes close for a brief moment. You smile at him.

“I know the feeling all too well.” He studies you when he opens his eyes again, gaze dropping to your nylon-covered legs and the cut of your dress. He travels up to your face smoothly. “What was your name?”

It takes a second for the effect of his gaze to fade, but you manage to tell him. “I’m studying Chemistry right now. On my way to getting a Masters.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh wow! That’s really impressive! You look too young to have all that under your belt already.”

His compliments make you burn. “Oh, thank you. I just study hard.” You tuck a strand of hair that blows annoyingly in your face. “And you are...?”

“Yunho.”

You furrow your eyebrows together. “You know? No, I don’t think I do.”

He looks just as confused, but then realization settles on his face and he laughs again. This time, he clutches his stomach and bends over, getting close to your bubble. Not that you mind, you like the smell of his light, earthy cologne.

“No- not ‘you know.’ Yunho. Y-U-N-H-O.”

That smile is still on his face when it clicks in your mind. You feel your face burn from embarrassment, covering your mouth with cold fingers. “Oh my god. I’m such an idiot. Yunho. Okay, I get it.”

You’re still burning when he chuckles again, deep and velvety. “No worries. I think that’s the first time that’s happened to me.”

The two of you laugh once more before you settle into silence. The quiet doesn’t last long when he asks, “So why are you out here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Maybe it’s the warm, pleasant feeling in your stomach from talking to Yunho, but you don’t have an ounce of hesitation in telling him. “My family has always bugged me about starting a family. The moment I graduated high school, it’s like the only thing I’m good for now is popping out babies.”

Yunho scoffs. His jaw clenches attractively and you hate how your legs press together upon the sight. 

“I know completely where you’re coming from. Trust me, that nagging never goes away. I’m already well above my prime and my brothers still bother me about finding a wife. With all this gray hair? I don’t think the ladies would want an old man like me.”

A demon must possess you because you speak before you can even think. “What? Yunho, I know we just met, but you’re like…very attractive. Finding a wife won’t be hard for you, even if you think you’re old.”

The lift of his eyebrow says it all. He’s shocked, at the very least. He stands straighter, towering over you. You hadn’t realized he was leaning against the wall to appear smaller, but his height stuns you.

He cocks his head to the side. “You think so?”

It takes a moment to gather your thoughts. His defined chest shows through his black turtleneck, nipples pebbling in the cold. His lithe arms wrap over his chest, adding to the clothed cleavage. If his upper body looks this good underneath clothes, you can’t even imagine anything less.

“I…” Fuck it. “Yeah. I do. You’re tall, handsome, fit, and some chicks dig older guys.” 

He scoffs a little, but it’s more from embarrassment than pride. His full cheeks blush further and you know it’s not from the cold. If you manage to play your cards right, you can ditch your family dinner for a different type of feast.

Yunho’s smile turns darker, more sinister as he looks down at you through his bangs. “Oh yeah? What type of chicks?”

“If you want to get specific, maybe the one standing in front of you.”

His grin deepens. Bingo.

-

His car is nice. Like, really nice. The seats are leather and he's got interior lights that shine when he opens the passenger car door for you. 

What a gentleman. 

But it’s his flat that impresses you the most. The ones you see are usually in the movies, either too small for any average person to live in or big enough for a whole town. Yunho has the latter.

You want to compliment him. Or more so, ask what type of job he has to afford all this space, but the large hands on your back push you to the bedroom and remind you why you’re here in the first place.

He doesn’t bother closing the door when you two make it to his room. Yunho cranes his neck down, lips ghosting over your own before he finds your neck instead. You lean to one side, hands going up his back trailing to his hair that you intertwine with your fingers. His mouth is so warm on your cold skin. It has you shaking for a brief moment before you get used to his heat.

Yunho starts with pecks. His lips feel plush and delicate, causing your flesh to rise with goosebumps. He moves to the center of your neck and kisses there too, but just when your eyes are starting to flutter shut and your mouth opens to sigh, he bites. 

You gasp instead. “Ah! Yunho!”

He doesn’t pull away from your throat, but you can feel his body jolt with giggles. He presses his kisses harder where his teeth marked you, a tiny apology you grow wet from. The two of you are still standing mere inches from the bed, but you don’t want to part from him. Yunho’s leg fits perfectly snug between your thighs and though you aren’t grinding, your cunt likes the warmth it provides. 

But you can feel it throbbing. The aching for any tiny movement, but you force yourself still save for how you keep pressing yourself against him.

Yunho makes you feel so small. His hands feel as if they could hold you easily, and they seem to do that with your lower back. Long fingers dig into your skin, and it doesn’t take long for his hands to travel further down until he finds the fat of your ass.

He takes a moment to stop giving you hickeys and groans into your shoulder. “So fucking soft. Your ass looks so good in this dress.” He swipes his tongue from your collarbone to the place below your ears. Your nipples harden almost immediately, the wetness makes you cold for a moment.

“You should see how it looks without it on.”

Challenge sparks in his eyes when he raises his head to look at you. All it takes is a reassuring nod from you before he pulls away almost completely, save for the hands squeezing your ass.

“On the bed then. Let me see.”

You smile and pry his hands off you, lifting your dress above your hips, but not off your body completely. You turn around for Yunho to face your back, hands finding the bed so you crawl on the bed for him to see. Your knees are on the edge, but finding balance is easy when you arch, wiggling your ass in the air.

The nylons are still on, but the see-through fabric adds a layer of sexiness. Yunho’s fingers graze your ass, stuck on squeezing and spreading your cheeks. It makes your pussy lips move with it, opening and closing against your clit softly. 

It’s such a tiny movement to your pussy, but with how you’ve been ignoring its leaking, it feels like so much more. You moan in the sheets, gently rocking yourself back and forth to try and get Yunho to spread your ass more.

“Jesus Christ.” He puts his thumb on your pussy, guiding it against your slit until he finds the bundle of nerves underneath your nylons and underwear. “I can feel how wet you are. You need it real bad, huh?”

His fingers are muted from the layers of clothes, but that doesn’t stop you from whining. You press back until his thumb is hard against you, swiveling your hips for friction. 

“Yesyesyes. So bad. I want your cock.”

His one thumb turns into multiple fingers. You sing with pleasure, showing no shame as you ride his hand until you feel the subtle, but familiar feeling coil in your stomach. Your styled hair is now a mess as it covers your eyes from how hard you’re rocking. Though you can’t see, you can feel the arousal leaking down your thighs and gather at your nylons.

Your orgasm comes quickly. It gets easy to grind on his fingers when your body is desperately chasing the high. “Cumming! Fuckfuckfuck, I'm cumming.”

You lift yourself on your forearms, halting all your movements to let the blinding pleasure wash over you, hot and delicious. Moans tumble past your lips. The tiniest bit of drool seeps from your mouth as you shake. You rock again, this time, to milk out your orgasm to completion. 

But Yunho pulls away.

A desperate cry leaves you. “W-wait. M-more. I want m-”

Familiar hands push you back into the sheets. Yunho holds you by the back of the neck, forcing you to keep your trembling ass in the air. 

Your heart races. More gasps and heavy breaths filter through your chest, but it’s an excitement that bubbles in your stomach. So much adrenaline runs through your body that half of the shaking is from your nerves. 

You just know he’s going to fuck you good.

“You came on my hand and you’re already asking for more?” Yunho tuts. “So impatient, but don’t worry, you’ll get it. Girls like you love cumming their brains out, huh?”

There’s no denying that. You nod in the sheets and whimper a pathetic yes, but Yunho approves nonetheless.

“Yeah, that’s why you’ll take any cock you can get, right? Even if it’s a stranger…” His free hand smoothes over your ass, but once he finds a good grasp on your nylons, he yanks. Your entire body pulls back from the force. You have to grab onto the mattress to not slip off the bed. 

“Even if it’s a man who’s almost twice your age…”

Another harsh yank and you hear fabric tear. Yunho pulls and pulls until your ass and cunt are free from the material. It’s only your underwear in the way, but you doubt that’ll be a problem.

Yunho leans down until he’s at your ear. Your body breaks into chills. He feels everywhere. He is everywhere from how big he is. You know you’re safe, but the thought of being at his mercy heightens your pleasure.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll buy you a new one.” He sweetly pecks your head and pulls away.

You’d laugh from the drastic switch-up, but you moan instead when you feel his fingers at your cunt. He plays with your folds through your panties, poking where your entrance is and smearing the arousal staining the underwear. 

You’ve never been this wet before. It usually takes some lube or way more foreplay, but Yunho turns you on in ways you didn’t believe were possible. His deft fingers and how his brown eyes can be warm but threatening. Everything about him is captivating and you can only hope he thinks the same about you.

With a finger hooking to the side of your panties, he tugs until your bare cunt is finally freed. You clit peeks from your hood, throbbing between your lips desperately. 

For the first time since you’ve met him, you feel nervous. Yunho stares at your pussy longer than you’re used to, making you try and press your thighs together to hide it. 

“Nuh-uh.” He jiggles your ass. “Don’t do that. I wanna see your pussy.”

You whine but obey. You put yourself face-first into the bed, ignoring how your cheeks turn red. 

Soon, the bed shifts weight and you hear the sound of a zipper. You pick up your head to look back, but Yunho forces you to face the bed. 

You pout. “I wanna seeeee.”

“You just want everything, don’t you?” Yunho sounds condescending, but he rewards you with the head of his cock. Your lower lips wrap around his tip when he grinds against your pussy, making sure to keep your underwear out of the way. “You want to cum, you want my dick, you wanna see it…And the worst part is, you’ve got such a pretty pussy that you’ll get everything you want.”

Yunho pulls back just enough to line himself up. You still haven’t gotten over how his tip felt brushing against you. He’s slicked himself up nice and wet to press, intruding on your entrance. 

You squeal. His shape opens you so easily that his size doesn’t sting at all, but makes your brain fuzzy. Though Yunho won’t let you see, you know he’s big. You turn dumb too quickly, chest burning from the oxygen he fucks out of you when he buries himself to the hilt. 

‘Oh my-...fffuucckkkk.”

Yunho groans at your moaning. He opts to hook his thumb in your panties and splay the rest of his fingers on your ass. Messily, he gathers your hair to create a makeshift ponytail with his other hand, forcing your chest up. 

Out... In... Out... In…

The pace is slow, but that doesn't mean it’s dull. Yunho pulls out until his tip is barely inside before pressing back in. When his pelvis is flush against your ass, it has you kicking your feet up and down on the bed from the overwhelming sensation. 

He feels like he’s in your ass. In your throat. You can’t escape how deep Yunho drills into you when he keeps you still by the hair, forcing you to take every unbearable inch.

You love every second of it. 

“Nghhh. Yunnhooo. Fuck meee. Fuck me pleeasseee.”

The sound of your cunt squelching echoes in the room. Yunho grunts at your command, pulling you up a few inches. 

“Yeah, you want it? You want it? Then fucking take it.”

It’s like a switch. That cautious pace turns animalistic, rough, and quick until your breasts manage to slip from the top of your dress and bounce freely. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat. There’s no sound until a harsh thrust forces the moan out. Once you start, you can stop. All you can manage are gasps and whines from Yunho’s drive. 

Every vein, every curve doesn’t go unnoticed between your walls. The repeated pistons force you to know his shape. You know he’s carving a place for him. So deep and good that you don’t think you could ever go back to hookups at your university again. 

But it’s Yunho’s tip that does it for you. There’s no you could ever unknow how it kisses your cervix or how the shape digs into you. You can't stop clenching down on it, sucking it back in over and over despite the pleasure overload you’re enduring. 

Your pussy’s in loooove.

The haziness of your mind clears a bit when Yunho pulls you up more. Your fingers barely graze the mattress, but the pain in your scalp feels dull when you look into his eyes.

They’re dark, hungry, and possessive. There’s nothing but carnal desire when you dreamily look up at them, eyes losing focus rather quickly. 

“You’re gonna cum. I fucking know you are. You cunt’s so fucking loud, it’s begging for it again.”

You swoon. Yunho knows he can make you feel good, he can feel it. Something like affection burns in your chest and you look at his pink lips. 

He grins. “You want a kiss?”

You nod, but it must look silly since your entire body is jolting. 

Yunho looks borderline psychotic when he breaks out into a smile. “Fuck. I love how young and stupid your pussy is. I’m gonna cum all over it. You’d like that, huh?”

“Loooveee iiiit.”

Yunho quickens his pace. You swear if you look down, you could see his cock poking through your stomach from the angle. Instead, you’re held to look into his eyes, vision blurring as your second orgasm approaches. It’s so much more intense than your first. Now you have something to clench on. Something to cream on when you inevitably burst. 

And with your crossed eyes looking into his, you do. You feel a burst of warmth from your stomach speedily reach your pussy. It makes you feel hot, the even hotter arousal pooling down your thighs and onto Yunho’s cock.

He moans above you. His hips grow sloppy, hitting different parts of your cunt that have you squealing. Yunho doesn’t break eye contact when he stills in you, dick throbbing as his cum shoots inside. 

The two of you stay moaning into each other's mouths, lips a mere inch away until he finally gives you what you want. The kiss is sloppy, full of breaths and moans as you messily shove tongues inside.

He swipes the inside of your cheek. He twists his tongue with yours until salvia trickles down your chin. You suck on his muscle and he does the same, pulling away with a wet smack that leaves you buzzing.

Yunho stares at you for a beat, eyes blinking as he comes to a sudden realization. “I think I'll keep you.” 

You don’t have the energy to respond, but you're thinking the same thing.

[demonic0angel]

:33 Can. Can... Cough. DCXDP PROMPT

Dan is the crowned Ghost King, Dani and Danny are like his kids and Jazz his sister ofcourse. Dan tries to be peaceful and shit for his siblingskids' sake but the GIW has other plans and kidnaps/Ambushes the two and boom. Chaos. Dan loosing his shit and the JL having to be involved (I wanna see a rare pair for Dan <33)

-A.E. 👻

Ps. I'm drawing an animation for this prompt <33

Pps/pass(??). I'm still drawing the cutting Wit ship, never forgot that <33

Part 2

Superman froze.

There was a monster in the middle of the room. It had a humanoid shape, but its general form was incomprehensible, unable to be understood even by Superman. Something white resembling clothes covered its body, but it was stained crimson. Rivers of blood dripped onto the floor in puddles.

The creature was clutching at two smaller beings, who were desperately clawing at its back and cape, whimpering. The creature made noises alongside them, a strange sort of wheezy noise.

Superman looked around at the torn apart corpses on the floor. Limbs laid askew and organs were separated from bodies. Everything smelled like blood and fear.

The creature made another soft sound and Superman finally realized what it was doing.

It was crying.

“… excuse me?” Superman asked, because he wanted to know everything, “are you alright?”

“… disgust me,” the creature mumbled.

“I’m sorry?”

The being turned and its glowing red eyes struck Superman and froze him in his place in fear. The color was unlike anything he had ever seen, like fire and death and glowing ashes from complete and utter annihilation. The creature was crying brightly colored, acidic tears that trailed down a green face, with each droplet rolling down its cheek and burning holes onto the ground.

“You humans disgust me!” The creature roared, flashing sharp fangs that could break through bone. “I held myself back! I tried to be a good person! A better person! I tried so hard to make good decisions and be a good king and a good family! And this is how you repay me?! By hurting the ones I love?!”

Superman’s gaze involuntarily darted downwards, to the two other beings. They whimpered, and Superman suddenly realized that they were this creature’s family. They were sluggishly bleeding and they were also crying softly, the same tears flowing down their faces as they sobbed.

Superman’s heart simultaneously broke in two and dropped to his feet from fear as the creature snarled.

“I was too kind. I should’ve eradicated all of your worlds! Every single one of you will die for hurting them!”

Superman floated an inch back and the creature bristled like it was an offense, wispy hair flaring like a roaring flame before it prepared itself to lunge forward, and just as Superman readied himself to fight, a woman stepped in front of him and a whip immediately wrapped itself around the creature’s throat, holding him still.

“Danny! Calm yourself! We’re fine!” The woman said, and Superman immediately snapped back to attention.

“What do you need for me to do?” He asked, and the woman, who was bravely defending herself against the creature, waved a hand for him to leave.

Superman blinked. And then he stayed, watching. The creature calmed, still crying, but now it— he just looked sad, brows furrowing as he then reached for the woman with another sob, not dissimilar to the children in his lap, “Jazz!”

The woman stepped forward, dropping the whip without a second thought, and enveloped him in a hug. “Shhhh,” she said. “You did so well. You protected the kids. You did well.”

She calmed the creature with a few more words, stroking the creature’s hair, and after a few long moments, where Superman started to feel like a fifth wheel, there was a bright flash, and the creature that once had white fiery hair and luminescent skin, turned into a normal man with pale skin and long, raven locks.

Superman’s eyes widened. The woman finally turned back to address him and said, “I’m sorry, can you take Dan, please? I’ll take Danny and Ellie.”

Superman nodded, drifting down to carefully handle the now unconscious man. He was surprisingly light, despite his bulky frame, and he was also undoubtedly beautiful. His eyes were closed, but he had a shadow of fear over his face. Superman gingerly held him close, a mixture of worried for the man, afraid of him, and also very confused at the entire situation. The man stirred, causing Superman to tense, but then he only buried his head into Superman’s shoulder.

A shiver ran down Superman’s spine. He felt irrationally conflicted within himself with how close the man was to tearing his throat out.

“I’m sorry, but can you please explain to me what happened? Who are these people? What is this place? What happened, and who is this person? Who are you?”

The woman nodded, picking up the two children. One of them tucked his head into her shoulder, but the other hissed at Superman, bright blue eyes flashing as she bared tiny little fangs. Oddly enough, Superman felt extremely endeared.

“I’ll tell you everything. Just take us out of here first.”

Superman nodded, and off they went.

(Side note: I have a hc that the name ‘Danny’ is very important to Dan and Dani, since it is a name that they chose for themselves. However, since Danny is considered more important, they ‘surrendered’ the name to him, but only Jazz really knows how much they like being called “Danny,” which is why she uses it to calm the two down or address them, and then uses “Dan” and “Ellie” anytime else.)

[battymommastuff]

The Greatest Show

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Part 1 Masterlist

(P/N): Performer Name

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

The rumbling from the red and white tent could be felt from outside. The cheers of the crowd as Haly's circus put on what they felt would be their best show yet. Everything from the elephants standing on their back legs to the clowns hitting each other with bowling pins. You were peeking from the little opening that led backstage. Many of your fellow performers were either stretching in preparation for their performance, or were relaxing after theirs. You were currently waiting alongside your two closest friends, John and Mary Grayson. The acrobatic duo who recently combined their act with yours. The stakes were higher, but it left the crowd in complete awe. You were one of the fire eaters. You were a younger member of the circus, but had quickly become a fan favorite. 

You were beautiful, and highly skilled at your art. Swallowing fire like water, and twirling torches around without burning you or anyone else. The skill you possessed was outstanding, and Haly never let you forget that. He took you in when you needed help the most, and he made you a star. You would forever be in debt to him. 

"Are you ready, (Y/N)?" Mary asked, resting a hand on your shoulder. You jumped then turned towards her. She and John had just finished their stretches and decided to check on you. From the moment you arrived, they took you under their wing. Teaching you the do's and don'ts of the circus as well as giving you a place to sleep so you didn't have to bunk with the others in their crowded space. Though you quickly earned a little tent of your own after your spike in popularity. 

"Yes, I'm alright..." You said, with a small smile, "But what about you? Should you be performing in your condition?" You asked while looking down at Mary's stomach. She was currently one month pregnant, and the entire circus doted over her. Everyone was so excited to have a new member of their family. Whoever this kid was going to be, you just knew you would love them unconditionally. Mary reassured you for the millionth time that she would be alright before she and John were ushered up a small ladder that led to the top of the tent. You, on the other hand, were standing by the curtain, waiting for Haly to announce you. 

"And now...our next performance needs no introduction...you know them...you love them! The Flying Graysons! Featuring our star Fire eater (P/N)!" 

As soon as you heard your name, you ran out. Instantly lighting your torch and twirling it around while taking a sip of alcohol. You spat the liquid at the flame causing it to poof into the air as soon as Mary did a flip in the air and caught John's arms. 

Nothing could ever satisfy that rush in your heart. The thrill of the crowd's reaction to your tricks. The high it gave you was better than any drug. Here you were, twirling two flaming torches in your hand as you watched above you. John and Mary Grayson were flying through the air. No one knew who to watch first. The couple who seemed to defy gravity, or the woman who could eat fire. Even with them in the air and you on the ground, everyone could see the chemistry you had. It's why your combined act never failed. With a big smile, you leaned back while lowering one of the torches towards your mouth. The crowd watched in awe as the fire went into your mouth. You popped your head back up with the extinguished torch in your hand. Tossing it to one of the helpers, you lifted your now free arm in the air while twirling the other torch in your hand. 

John, swooping down picked you up and you were now in the air. An act practiced hundred of times. His legs holding onto the trapeze as you both circled around the tent, the torch never falling from your hand. 

Your act was truly amazing, and it seemed to catch the eye of a certain crowd member. Bruce Wayne. Growing up, he loved to visit the circus with his parents. After their death, he avoided anything to do with it. Now he was back, but under different circumstances. For a while he'd been investigating the circus. He recently found old notes left by his father. The Court of Owls. A secret society of the Gotham elite. Their goal is to rid the city of crime, by any means. He wasn't surprised to know that his father had come in contact with them, but was surprised to see the theory that Haly's circus was a front. The members were training to be potential Talon members. The Court's lethal assassins. The circus always seemed to favor Gotham. Their stop here would last weeks while other stops would last days. Most of their members were young, and always seemed to vanish from the show after a while. He was here to find out the truth, and put a stop to it. At least he hoped he could. It was difficult to fight a conspiracy that his father barely had proof on. 

Despite his goal, he couldn't bring himself to move from his spot. You were gorgeous. He had a genuine smile on his face while watching your act. He's seen fire eaters before, but something about felt different. You didn't seem corrupt or up to no good. You looked as if you truly loved what you were doing. Maybe he could recruit you? Having inside knowledge would be beneficial. 

Your act went on, and you left the circle with loud cheers. Your heart was racing so fast, it felt like you were going to have a heart attack. John and Mary arrived shortly after with large smiles of their own, "You did amazing!" You squealed while hugging them both. You were new to the acrobatic world, but had the best teachers in the world. 

After the show ended and everyone turned in for the night, you were sitting outside of your tent. Your throat is slightly irritated from the alcohol, but nothing too bad. Luckily tomorrow was an off day for the circus. You could rest a little before practice. It was a peaceful night, and you were happy to relax in it. At least until a deep and intimidating voice nearly scared the skin off of you. 

"(Y/N) (L/N)? We need to talk."

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[yandere-wishes]

˚｡✮ Yandere! Darth Vader {Anakin Skywalker} x Apprentice Reader

˚｡✮ Bad, bad news, One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse, Just add some friction, You are my strange addiction

˚｡✮ We've talked about Yandere! Anakin Skywalker falling for Padawan! Reader... But what about Vader falling for his acolyte/apprentice?

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ★⋆.˚

Vader isn't nurturing.

It feels almost sacrilegious to entertain the thought.

That's why it's so troubling when the galactic empire's staff take note of a smaller morbid figure trailing after the ebony monstrosity.

I can see there being many interesting scenarios in which Vader would pick an acolyte. The most heartwrenching and particularly curious case would be if his acolyte used to also be Anakin Skywalker's Padawan.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader searching for you across the galaxy. He feels your force signature reverberating inside him, calls out to it, tries to bind and morph it. A sardonic love letter he pens with rage and perplexion. Still, you always slip away. He keeps your hunt a secret, some ancient wound that's never healed right. The swing of your saber still haunts him, your satisfied grin as you land a blow on him. The force works in mysterious ways and Vader's desperation can't fully be reasoned. He's given up everything that Anakin once had. Forgone to an almost spiritual level. But you are the one pesky thing that still lingers. He likes to think that it's because he knows your true power. That you're a threat as long as you live.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader finally, finally finding you. Mesmerized by how much you've grown. You're rugged, wild. Some strange creature wearing the skin of the girl he once loved. You don't hesitate to attack, and Vader signs it off as a blessing. He needs a reason to hurt you, to drag you back kicking and screaming. He needs an excuse to push his fury between your bones and drown you in his sorrows. He needs revenge in the worst way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader winning because of course he does. He leaves you bruised and broken, bleeding on the soft grassy ground. Your eyes are so beautiful when they're filled with terror. Your voice melodic as you scream in agony as his saber severs your leg and arm. Vengeance, Vengeance, Vengeance. You left him, left him to face Obi-wan alone, left him to be mutilated and disfigured.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only coming to terms with who he is, and what he is as he's watching the medical droids repair your body. He can never escape Anakin, cause that's who he still is. Anakin hasn't died just grown. He's no longer the kid with a schoolboy crush on his pupil and supernovas under his tongue. He's swallowed the burning stars, let their fires and explosions paint him in shades darker than the nights on Tatooine. He runs a cybernetic hand across your head, feeling you for the first time in forever.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader training you once more. It's been months since your capture, months of brutal and tender torture. He's ripped you apart and rearranged you so meticulously. Picking favored parts to hem and sew with a buzzing red needle and dark doctrines. Only when Vader notes the red-rimmed golden shift flicker across your eyes does he know he's truly won. Your connection to the light is nearly completely severed. Your past is left to rot on the green planet. What stares back at him from the corners of the dark, damp cell is a creature forged of hate and malice. A sith in every way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only ever happy when he's with you. He's finally free to train you as he pleases, to touch you as he pleases, to kiss you as he pleases. He's taken you to ice worlds to bleed kyber crystals and to Mustafar to forge your new armor. He kisses you on a battlefield littered with the corpses of dead resistance soldiers. Metal clancks against metal all wretched sinister love. You're beginning to love this new master, he's everything Anakin had repressed, he's everything you have always feared. But the thing you must realize about fickle fears is that once you fall in love with them, you begin to lose yourself.

˚｡✮ Imagine Pulling up Vader's mask and kissing the burns across his face. Your kisses are laced with such passion and hate he feels like he's drowning in lava once more. He's brutal in the way he handles you, each touch leaving a plethora of bruises, singing I love you. You like the way each training session starts with a deep all-consuming kiss and ends with him using the force to smash your head into the ground as you laugh and laugh. His force signature is different now, you like the way it slithers across your body, all fire and pain, all destruction. Love the pain that comes with him, this grisly bloody love affair that makes the stars shutter.

The staff of the galactic empire, Find the little midnight creature all too bizarre.

She trails after their commander with vicious playful skips and plays uno with their lives. She twirls around the galaxy's most feared as if she's playing hopscotch.

The staff of the galactic empire doesn't know whether to feel pity or terror...

I think about how at the beginning of being Vader, Anakin was so quick to reject who he once was. Trying desperately to kill off any semblance of Anakin. But by the time of the Original Trilogy, he's sort of come to terms with who he is and who he once was. Anakin isn't really dead he's just grown stronger now, and in a strange way, he even seems to embrace his past as a Jedi, wearing it as - a not so obvious- badge of pride.

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

mouthwashing responsibility au rambles below cut 🫡

(spoiler warning for the actual game obviously)

- even though jimmy got deservedly knocked out by anya and thrown into the cryopod early on, the crash still does happen. it's a freak accident this time, like maybe a piece of space debris just happened to hurtle right into them without time to dodge. it's like the tulpar is destined to crash. but this time it's a story about a group of people finding hope and strength in each other and finding what they themselves can be capable of in a time of crisis. btw i just mean curly, anya, swansea, and daisuke. i am NOT repenting jimmy. he ain't "fixing" shit.

- i'm sorry for frying curly again even though this is supposed to be an au with a happier ending 😭 the way his loss of autonomy reflects anya's own loss of it, making him feel firsthand the suffering she went through in a way, felt too important to just remove. curly's injuries aren't as terrible as in the original timeline since swansea rescued him earlier. and by "not as terrible" i mean he only loses a leg and not all of his limbs. he will get some function in his hands eventually and anya teaches him sign language to help him communicate (she teaches the others too).

- speaking of anya, she really shows her stuff as a nurse (even in the original timeline she does, managing to keep curly alive like that). she treats curly and swansea and is much more of a pillar of strength for the crew than she herself realizes. pre-crash and post-jimmy-getting-fired, she was able to relax and open up more with everyone, building a stronger bond. when the crash happens, anya is of course terrified and hella stressed, but now she knows she has people who have her back, and it helps. she can be more confident in herself without a certain someone being there to belittle and hurt her. this time when she has to deal with something difficult, something traumatizing, she has people to support her. in this au, she is not pregnant because if she was, i don't see how keeping the baby would be a good thing for her. and i don't want her to have to deal with that situation without the proper medical supplies on top of everything else. she's been through enough.

- btw there is no shipping in this au. i personally really don't see how it could happen between anyone on the crew. if there was some sort of spark between anya and curly, it's definitely gone now and won't happen again. the most they'll be are friends (although the friendship/trust will have to be built from the ground up again after everything that's happened with jimmy). the only ship here is the tulpar.

- i know daisuke is seen as a "dumb kid" but i really don't think that's the case. we are seeing him thru jimmy's perspective mostly after all and jimmy is the definition of an unreliable narrator. i headcanon daisuke as having adhd like me who tends to lose focus on tasks easily because your brain is just going 102929 miles a minute and wandering to all sorts of places like me. he feels like someone who doesn't exactly know where they want to go in life like me. also he's definitely a hawaii kid born and raised and talks pidgin sometimes like me except i lost the pidgin :(. i'm totally not projecting my asian ass on the asian boy or anything. BUT ANYWAY i wanted to give daisuke more stuff to do and a chance to prove to himself that he can do these things, he can step up. so that's partially why i made swansea burn his hands rescuing curly. daisuke can now be filled with Determination and be swansea's hands in repairing things as he heals. it's going to be hard and it's going to be frustrating for both parties and sometimes they'll get upset at each other. but it will inevitably be a great bonding experience for the two. i cannot resist the call for more father-son moments.

- swansea my beloved. i am so sorry for burning your beautiful hands please forgive 😔🙏 i have to make my faves suffer a little. swansea's hands will heal up eventually and he'll be able to use them again, but there will be scars. i think him having to guide daisuke with doing repairs n stuff on the ship as his hands recover gives him a mission. something to distract him from completely falling into despair and alcoholism. that man is hanging on by a thread but by god he's going to help get these kids through this. they've all grown closer since jimmy was sacked and swansea feels a sort of responsibility towards protecting anya, daisuke and curly as the oldest one there. it's the dad instincts y'know? on the real hard days, sometimes swansea thinks about cracking open a bottle of mouthwash, but he holds back because he feels he needs to stay strong for the crew. however he does have to learn that he can't shoulder everything and that he can rely on others. him having no choice but to have daisuke take over his tasks is a good way for him to learn that, i think. swansea is definitely a pillar of strength in this and the rest of the crew have a lot of affection for him (and vice versa even if swansea won't admit it). can you tell i really like swansea. he is such a foil to jimmy—a guy who has fucked up a lot in his life but actually acknowledges his mistakes and is trying his hardest to be a better person. aghh swansea i love you 💛💛

- after the crash happens, the cryopod room becomes inaccessible, so nobody is able to check on the state of jimmy in there. so they don't see that the crypod he's in eventually fails from damage and he escapes. this happens a couple weeks into the crash. jimmy is still pissed about everything and still can't see how he's done anything wrong (this is because he is a delusional asshole). in fact, he feels like he's the one who's been wronged and betrayed by everyone on the crew and he wants revenge. there will be a final confrontation between jimmy and the crew. spoilers: jimmy loses. i'm just undecided on who finishes it. it would be fitting if anya shot him, but i'm not sure that's something she'd necessarily want to do. she chose to be in the medical field after all. don't get me wrong, i think she would pull the trigger if it meant protecting the others. but i'd hate to have her kill, because even if jimmy deserves it, anya is a healer and would still probably feel guilty about it. i don't want to put even more shit on her plate. so i think swansea is the one to put jimmy down in the end. with the axe of course. i think he'd feel less guilty about doing it because it's something he's wanted to do since anya first told him about jimmy. oooh what if jimmy gets his hands on the gun, but daisuke tackles him, making him drop it, and anya gets it and shoots jimmy in the shoulder or leg or something to get him off of daisuke, and then swansea comes in with the axe to finish him off. that could be fun. that way anya won't have to actually kill but she'll still get to shoot jimmy. bless.

- the crew gets rescued eventually, but it's going to be a few months because pony express is a nightmare company. i'm honestly still not sure if pony express is even the one who will rescue them or even bother to look. i'm tempted to just have another ship happen across them by some miracle and help. real tempted to make that ship The Unreliable and turn this into a Mouthwashing x The Outer Worlds crossover quite honestly since both settings share similarities (megacorporations, cryosleep, etc). but idk. it's not like i can just write a fanfic or anything since writing is harder for me and who knows how long it will be before i even draw the idea. it's just yet another self-indulgent daydream for now.

[rimatsu]

After apologies and accusations and nippy words and even more apologies comes the time for honesty. They talk for so long Tommy’s voice dissolves at the edges, a pharyngeal crackle seeping into his confessions. Candor feels a lot like being cored. He sits on Evan’s couch split in half like a pomegranate, red viscera exposed — peeled open for examination. For six months, he had only offered tiny morsels of himself, weighed bites meant to appease hunger and not satiate, but Evan has grown gluttonous in their time apart. Tommy is made to dig past the last vestiges of self-preservation and unearth everything he’d kept buried, exhuming skeletons and old hurt from the ground.

It's exhausting to the bone.

"I feel like I got hit by a bus," Tommy says once a hush of silence settles over the loft, rubbing the heel of his palm over a brow.

Evan smiles at him, and it's a touch rueful. "That's what happens when you condense half-a-year's worth of talking into 3 hours," he reasons, although not unkindly.

Silence eats away at the oxygen again until Evan reaches for Tommy's hand, thumb pressing into the blue rivers of his veins. Surely he can feel Tommy's pulse go seismic at the touch.

"We don't have to rush into anything," Evan starts, tentative and placating like he's speaking to a sighted animal. "I— I'll try to rein it in, go slow."

Bless his heart, Tommy thinks, because he sounds like he believes it. Evan isn't capable of slow. He can do undefined, he can even do superficial, but he's not wired for measured steps — his long legs are more suited for a gallop than a trot. Tommy knew that much by the second date. The absence of moderation had charmed and scared him in equal measure, drawn to it like moth to a flame until he realized he'd have to carry indelible burn scars like relics to his grave.

Tommy is under no illusion, but he gives a terse nod anyway, and then he watches as Evan’s lips part around an inhalation. It's that bolstering little intake of breath that precedes the big questions — the same one Evan took before inviting him to his sister's wedding, the same one he took before asking Tommy to move in with him.

He stares at Evan’s expanding diaphragm and braces himself for impact.

"But I can't— I can't do aimless either, Tommy," Evan barrels on, and squeezes at his wrist like he's holding Tommy in place so he can't physically recoil from his words. "I need to know we're walking in the same direction." Evan pauses for a heartbeat, and when he speaks again, conviction has steeled the timbre of his voice: "I want serious down the line. I want a life together, a shared home, a ring on my finger. Kids, the whole shebang," he continues, firm, no stammering in sight, like he's daring Tommy to dispute any of it again.

His eyes reflect the light overhead like glistening jewels. Their magnetic pull is as strong as the magnitude of Tommy's fears, powerful enough that he's considering living in communion with worry. Tommy swallows around the lump in his throat and pushes down the instinctive urge to run for the windows like the building is at flashover.

"There's no guarantee we'll make it far," he warns, because it bears repeating.

"No, there isn't," Evan agrees, like uncertainty isn't frightening or paralyzing. He's terrifying. "But if you're not gonna try anyway, if you're not buying what I'm selling, you might as well walk out now and spare us both the trouble."

Coming back is allowing Evan to become somatically essential the way an aortic valve is vital — it's giving him the power to deal a finishing blow with no warranty certificate. Tommy has flown through warzones, has dismantled and mended himself back into new shapes, has let fire lick at him and smoke suffocate him, but knocking on Evan’s door again might be the bravest thing he's ever done.

He takes a fortifying breath of his own and then surrenders to a mathematical probability.

"Yeah, I can do trying," he says, and it's a meagre offering — certainly not the type of reassurance that would reassure him, but it's everything Tommy has to give, amorphous and fragile but no less true.

Evan is more benevolent than him, anyway.

"Okay," he accepts, mercy shining in the blue of his irises. "That's good enough for now."

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I sure do! Watch this..."

"I can make explosive spears and throwables, just like my mom did. I can also propel myself in the air by whipping my tail very fast, which sets off the same flammable compound in my tail surface for an explosive boost. Very handy for movement, but also very loud… not great if you're trying to be stealthy. And yeah, my sibling could do that too, but he was always more interested in doing other things. An energetic but very scatterbrained kid that he was."

[She takes aim and throws the spear somewhere far away. It ignites and explodes with a loud dull bang that shakes the ground slightly]

"I can't do that too often, though. Maybe a handful of times in quick succession before my muscles tense up and burn as if scorched by flames. One time it got so bad that I lost consciousness and couldn't move for a couple of minutes after waking up. That was scary, and hurt like hell... since then I've been more careful. That said, I wonder if there are more slugcats with similar abilities to mine out there? I have not met that many scugs in my life to begin with, if I'm honest..."

"Of course I remember my family, how could I not! My sibling's name is… hmmm, right, let me explain this first. Slugcats have very good sense of smell. Usually, we know one another by our unique scents. They are incredibly complex, but can be written down as series of letters, if you map those symbols to the corresponding scent proteins and other chemical compounds. For example, my scent name would be:"

"Addmitely, this notation method is very over-engineered – a slugcat just knows you are you if they smell you. From what I learned, scugs don't really use a coherent writing system.. of any kind. I think the colonies may use pictograms? I uh, I've never been a part of a colony, so I'm missing a lot of info here. Still, what I wrote on the wall – I have used an Ancient script, which I roughly mapped to key compounds that make a scent. As you can see, it's incredibly long, it can also change over time, parts of it can be masked with non-organic aromas to hide your identity, so on and so forth. To simplify even further, these long strings of letters can be shortened to just the last three or two characters, and this is what scugs may choose to use to refer to one another. Here, my scent name is MGV."

"Then, there are names that resemble the form that the Ancients would use. It's considered more refined, and more common in big colonies where people adopt their preferable roles. Those names are viewed as a kind of «gift», because you receive it from your community. It's a symbol of how they see you, what you mean to them. Of course, my closest family was never a part of a colony… but my mom would still give me and my sibling those special names. I was named «Blue», which is the color of the sky above when it's not raining, and the color of clear water. My brother's name is «Bryn» after a very fragrant medicinal plant that relaxes your muscles when consumed. I always found it funny, as my brother was often the one getting in trouble and giving our mom heartaches."

[She pauses for a moment, thinking intensively]

"Hmm, I never thought of asking my mother about her name. I wonder if she had one? To me and it was always just «mom»…"

"My other parent? I never knew him. Must have left just before or right after my mom had me, because there is literally nothing I remember of him… or them… whoever they were."

[She takes some pearls out from her bag, and inspects them one by one just to keep her hands busy]

"Mom would never talk about him, as if he never existed. And I never questioned her, I was too young to understand and simply accepted everything at face value. It was just the way things were. Would I want to meet my other parent? Maybe, but I doubt it'd make a difference. What would I even say to them? «Thanks for abandoning mom and leaving her to fend for herself»? "

"I don't know. Maybe I'm too harsh. Maybe he was a hero who sacrificed themself to save my mother. That could explain why he was never seen or heard of again. But… I have no way of knowing for sure. It's the life I won't be getting back anyway."

// In the second drawing, I've used logographs from @ikayblythe's Standard Hegemonic Dialect

[gloomysoup]

he's probably worried (not hiding anymore)

@steddiebingo christmas card prompt: secret relationship

rating: teen+ | word count: 717 | tags: post-s3, post- starcourt, coming out | ao3

The air is filled with red-orange flames and smoke as the mall burns to the ground in front of him. His head is still spinning, face throbbing, and he can barely breathe. The adrenaline is starting to fade, and Steve’s injuries are making themselves known. He stands side-by-side with Robin, neither of them saying a word. Everything has changed. Neither of them will ever be the same person they once were.

Steve has a fleeting thought that Eddie must be worried. It's gone just as soon as it was there when the paramedics are ushering them into the ambulance and taking them to the hospital.

Everything is a blur of sirens and lights, Robin’s hand in his, a shock blanket around his shoulders. Doctors and bright lights, wires and beeping machines. He gets set up in a room for monitoring. Robin is okay. The kids are okay. Everyone is okay.

Steve doesn't even register what's happening when the nurse says they're going to call his emergency contact. His brain still feels a little fuzzy, even if things are starting to become clearer.

Everyone is gathered in Steve’s room. Robin and Dustin are sitting at the end of the bed, on either side of his legs. Robin refuses to leave his side. Steve is thinking about Eddie again.

Steve is late for dinner. He's probably so worried.

There's heavy footsteps in the hallway, shoes squeaking on the linoleum. The door flies open, and a head of curls stumbles into the room. Eddie’s eyes find Steve’s quickly, wild and full of fear and concern. He quickly crosses the room, pulling Steve into a tight hug. The room falls silent around them.

“Christ, Steve, I was so worried about you,” Eddie whispers, his voice tight like he's trying not to cry. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I'm okay, promise. Just a little banged up, that's all.”

Eddie sucks in a very shaky breath, not letting go of Steve. “You're not allowed to scare me like that anymore, asshole. I can't handle it.”

“I'll do my best. How'd you even know I was here?”

Eddie pulls back, his hands resting on the sides of Steve’s face. “The hospital called Wayne.”

The door opens again, and there's Wayne. Steve notes that he looks tired, but the older man smiles when his gaze lands on Steve.

“Glad to see you're still kickin’, kid,” he says, the worry washing away from his face.

“Sorry, Wayne, can't get rid of me that easy,” Steve says with a grin that pulls at his cuts and bruises. Wayne barks a laugh at that, shaking his head.

“What the hell is going on?” Dustin says, finally finding his voice.

Eddie's eyes go wide as he suddenly seems to realize they are not alone in the room. Steve grabs Eddie’s hand with a smile and gives it a squeeze. Then he clears his throat and looks at Dustin.

"Wayne is my emergency contact,” he explains. “Has been for a little while now. I've, uh… kinda been staying with them from time to time.”

Dustin frowns, his eyebrows knit together. “But… why?”

Steve glances at Eddie, squeezing his hand again. He takes a deep breath. It's now or never. “Eddie is… my boyfriend.”

It's the first time he's said the words out loud. It's the first time they put an actual label on what they are, what they truly mean to each other. They've been boyfriends for a little while now, but they never actually talked about it. There was always so much sneaking around and secrets and keeping it under wraps. They were both scared.

Not anymore.

Steve isn't scared to hide Eddie away from his friends, from his family. The people who truly matter. Not when Eddie has never been scared of hiding him from Wayne, his family. He's done being scared, because he knows there's so many scarier things out there. He knows that monsters are real, and he knows it'll take a lot more than a boyfriend to run off his monster hunting family.

So he smiles at Eddie, and he calls him boyfriend. Because that's what he is. He's Steve’s boyfriend, and he loves him.

He's done keeping that a secret from the people who have always had his back, despite what they've been through.

[frmisnow]

summary. growing up with religious guilt had always made you rather avoidant of church, but a point comes where you feel like you have no one and must confess to well... anyone. you didn't expect to fall in love with the priest on the other side though !

warnings / includes. angst, alcoholism, themes of religious guilt, suggestive, inspired by fleabag

god loves you , just not enough to save you.

in the time where everything changes and you fuck up over and over, again and again — you yearn, crave thourly for patterns that remain alike. like the cigarettes you hold, that remind you of the burn marks on your skin or the alcohol, that turned you into a sort of alcoholic you promised yourself, you'd never become.

or would it be the cold cross that you haven't touched in years, which would finally save you out of your misery?

it cuts into your skin, leaves the same wounds it did once. you're weaker then you've ever been, so you let it. because at the same time, it's cooling against your heated skin. flush from the shots earlier, and the vodka bottle you just smashed onto the hard ground ahead of the church.

because damned be god for bringing you back to this place. you had promised, not just to yourself but him as well that you'd never enter it again. but who are you kidding? you were notourosly known for breaking promises.

the chapel is quiet, too quiet, and the echo of your footsteps sounds like the last word of a sinner's prayer. you can firmly feel your own shadow behind you, you want to ask it to reach it's black hands to the very you. end it once and for all, and let you burn in hell just to remind you of the fire that had once lingered in you, comforting and warm.

but you don't. you don't beg, instead sliding into the tiny, hollow space at the very back — the confessional.

"forgive me father, for what i have sinned.." you slur, leaning against the wall that seperates you and god knows who, because you need, you want to hear him breathe. not to see his face, because you couldn't bear looking at people anymore, but to hear him be there at least.

you don't await for a response, the alcohol in your system, just as always, making you speak before you think, "it's just- i feel like everything is going to shit. i have affectively pushed everyone and anyone out of my life, that i have even remotely cared about. and i- father, i- it's like i'm doing it on purpose, though i don't even want to."

you sigh, leaning against the wall even further, praying that hands would spawn out of the wood and embrace you, "i- fucking miss feeling," you pause, gulping, "loved."

"i want somebody to tell me what to do, exactly what for every aspect of my life. because," you groan, throwing your head back in frustration, "i don't want to make decisions anymore."

silence fills the wooden cabinet, deafening silence and you can feel something wet down your cheek.

"kneel."

you look up to the wooden wall once more ask you hear the request from the other side, your vision just a little blurry, as you croak, your voice just above an whisper, "what?"

“please, kneel,” he repeats, softer this time, yet firm. the authority in his tone makes you feel embraced because it's just what you asked for. please tell me what to do with myself, for eternity.

the creak of the cabinet door breaks through your thoughts, and before you can process it, he’s there, silhouetted in the dim light, casting a shadow that feels both holy and sinful.

he kneels to your level, close enough for you to inhale the heady scent of his cologne — rich, memorable, and everything you’ve been missing.

without thinking, you lean into him, your lips crashing against his in a desperate clash. it’s raw, fevered; every ounce of longing spills out in that one kiss. his hands find your face, grounding you, making you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re worthy of this sacred act, this moment.

when he pulls away, your eyes remain closed but you can feel the thumb of his tracing over your bottom lip. it's like baptization, just a second time. please make me feel loved, pick up the pieces of me like the glass shambles of the vodka bottle outside, put them back together. fix me. you're the only one who can.

but you remain quiet once more and when you open your eyes, he's gone.

[linkspooky]

It's not just the fact that Hori decided to kill a lifelong victim of grooming.

My two favorite comic book storylines are New Teen Titans Judas Contract, and Uncanny X Men's Inferno. They both feature villains / victims (Madelyne Pryor and Terra) that die at the end of the story. Terra is specifically fifteen years old and a victim of sexual grooming.

However, both of these stories are clearly written as tragedies. It's clear from the start that these are tragic stories not only meant to get us to sympathize with the victim turned villain but also the failure to save a clear victim is meant to make the heroes look bad.

Let me just list off all the shit Scott Summers put Madelyne Pryor through.

Fell in love with her only because she looked like his ex girlfriend Jean. Even though Madelyne specifically stated before getting into the relationship she didn't want to be jeans replacement.

Married her, and refuses to take time off to the point where he misses the birth of his own son leaving Madelyne at home to deliver her baby on the floor.

When he finally retires and they move to Alaska together he gets a phone call that Jean is still alive and abandons his wife and daughter for weeks to go back to his high school girlfriend.

Madelyne is attacked by a group of supervillains while Scott is away and just barely manages to escape but loses her baby.

She joins up with the x men to look for scott only to find out in the time she's been gone Scott had already gotten back together with Jean.

She is tricked into making a deal with a demon who wants to overthrow ilyanas control of limbo (she thought it was just a dream and the contract to sell her soul didn't matter).

She used her newfound power in order to find her child Nathan only to find Mr sinister there who reveals that Madelyne was a clone of Jean Grey, her entire life was a lie, she was made to breed with cyclops and produce a baby for sinister.

At which point madelyne snaps and decides to burn everything to the ground and kill her own child.

It's clearly telegraphed as a tragedy. The reference to Medea is pretty obvious. Madelyne had no chance from the beginning, however even in this tragedy Scott specifically forbid any of the heroes from using lethal force on her. Jean and Maddie mindmeld at one point and Jean literally begs for Maddie not to die and that she should live on to raise her son. They even throw a funeral for Maddie afterwards because be no one else would ever mourn her.

Not only do the heroes look bad, especially Scott for not being able to save her, they do at least try to talk with her, use non lethal force, and beg her at one point to let them help her.

On the other hand not only did Deku never engage Shigaraki Tomura once, just the vision of a crying child in front of him. Deku doesn't look like a failure for failing in his goal to save him he's still the greatest hero, they don't hold a funeral for Shigaraki, Dekus last words are about how he doesn't forgive Shigaraki (and therefore he deserves to die i guess because deku is the punisher now). Deku doesn't even give Shigaraki the respect of calling him by his preferred name he just calls him Tenko who was the only person Deku cared about saving.

It's not just about a victim dying it's about how the story promised us over and over again the kids were going to save the villains in the final act, that this was going to be an optimistic story about the new generation being better than the old.

Only for Horikoshi to deliver something entirely different. If I'm watching punisher I know what I'm getting into. I'm here to watch Frank Castle shoot mobsters. If Batman picks up a Tommy Gun and starts shooting mobsters that's bad because Batman wouldn't do that shit.

There's writing a story that's tonally inconsistent, or changing your plans for how a character is going to end late in the game and then there's this.

Which is basically narrative gaslighting. Where one thing is clearly happening onscreen but the narrative needs you to believe those gaslights clearly are not dimming.

I know Deku made no effort to save Shigaraki when he explicitly said they OFA is a power for saving but not killing, but don't worry Deku became the greatest hero anyway, and this is still a happy optimistic ending!

Horikoshi isn't looking for treasure in the house. Those gaslights aren't dimming. You're clearly being hysterical, woman.

[aventurineswife]

Heey :3

I'm a bit new to HSR but I would love to make a request regardless. A platonic request with a reader that lost their parents at a very young age and somehow ended up with the listed characters With Boothill, Aventurine, Gallagher, Gepard (if I requested over the character limit just chip some off <33)

Reader is like in their teen years

Fragments of Fate

Tags: Boothill x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Gepard x Reader, Teen!Reader, Platonic Relationships, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff with Angst, Protective Characters, Emotional Bonding, Slow Burn Friendship.

Warnings: Mentions of Parental Loss, Themes of Grief and Trauma, Violence (Mild/Implied), Angst with a Happy/Bittersweet Ending, Possible Depictions of Flashbacks (Trauma-Related), Protective Behavior.

A/N: WELCOME TO THE FANDOM!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY AND DON'T LET THE WEIRD PEOPLE GET TO YOU!! 🤗💕💖

The galaxy was vast, unkind, and unrelenting—traits Boothill understood better than most. When he found you wandering the outskirts of a ruined settlement, it felt like staring into a mirror of his past. A teen, lost and alone, with nothing but the smoldering remains of a life stolen too soon. You reminded him of himself, crying in the snow all those years ago.

The first thing Boothill taught you was how to defend yourself.

"Out here," he said, crouched by the fire with his mechanical hand resting on his holstered revolver, "you either draw fast, or you're done for." His eyes locked onto you, and for the first time since meeting him, you saw something other than sharp wit and vengeance in his expression—concern.

But Boothill wasn’t a teacher in the traditional sense. His lessons came wrapped in stories of survival, laughter, and his signature dramatic flair. He showed you how to handle a blaster, track footprints across barren wastelands, and recognize when to stand your ground—or when to run.

One evening, as the two of you watched stars streak across the dark sky, Boothill broke his usual bravado. "The world’s gonna throw you into the dirt," he said softly, his shark-like teeth catching the firelight. "But you? You’re gonna get back up every time. You hear me, kid?"

In Boothill, you found a guardian who didn’t pity you but saw your strength—even when you didn’t see it yourself.

Meeting Aventurine wasn’t a chance encounter; it was destiny orchestrated by a gambler who always bet on himself. You stumbled into his orbit during a skirmish between the IPC and local rebels, a frightened teen who had lost everything. He could have walked away—after all, you were just another face in a galaxy filled with suffering. But something about the fire in your eyes stopped him.

"You’ve got guts, kid," he remarked, adjusting his glasses as he ushered you into the safety of his suite. "Stick with me, and you might just learn how to play this game called life."

Life with Aventurine was a whirlwind of unpredictability. He taught you how to navigate high-stakes situations, whether it was bluffing your way out of trouble or making calculated risks that turned the odds in your favor.

One day, he handed you a deck of cards, each one worn and bearing faint marks from years of use. "Lesson one," he said with a smirk. "The game’s rigged, but that doesn’t mean you can’t win."

Aventurine’s mentorship wasn’t about coddling. He challenged you, pushed you to think ahead, and celebrated your victories with genuine pride. Yet, there were moments of vulnerability—late-night conversations where he’d share fragments of his own tragic past. "We’re not so different, you and I," he admitted one night, his voice quieter than usual. "We both know what it’s like to lose everything. But here’s the trick, kid: we don’t let it break us."

With Aventurine, you learned that survival wasn’t just about strength—it was about strategy, resilience, and knowing when to bet it all.

When Gepard found you, it was during one of the harshest Fragmentum attacks Belobog had ever faced. You were huddled in the ruins of a home, clutching a makeshift weapon and trembling with fear. The sight of you—so young, so lost—stirred something deep within him.

"You’re safe now," he said, his voice steady and reassuring as he extended a gloved hand. "I’ll protect you. That’s a promise."

Life under Gepard’s care was structured and disciplined, but never harsh. He treated you with kindness and respect, understanding the pain of loss in a way only someone who had carried the weight of duty could.

He taught you how to wield a weapon—not for revenge, but for defense. "Strength isn’t about defeating your enemies," he said during a training session. "It’s about protecting what matters most."

Gepard’s lessons extended beyond combat. He instilled in you a sense of responsibility and compassion, encouraging you to help others even when the world seemed bleak. Under his guidance, you began to rebuild your confidence, finding purpose in small acts of courage and kindness.

One night, as snow fell softly outside the city walls, Gepard joined you by the fire. "I know it’s hard," he said, his eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "But you’re not alone anymore. You have a family here—with me, with the Silvermane Guards. And together, we’ll face whatever comes."

With Gepard, you found more than a protector—you found a father figure who believed in you, even when you struggled to believe in yourself.

[syrma-sensei]

→ Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.1: Tenderly.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Setting: Pre-canon; in the early 1980s.

Warnings/tags: Ben's foul mouth, sexual innuendos, misogyny, racism, antiquated mentality...

Summary: Soldier Boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

Soldier Boy rolls his eyes at Legend, “No, ain't doing another stupid song. Let Noir do that shit, the kid's been so fucking eager to see his star shine.”

“It wasn't that bad, people loved it. Your fans loved it, and they want more from you,” Legend tries to reason, “Plus, can't win a Grammy award for best record of the year if it sucks. Moreover, it's pretty popular among the young folks.”

The supe sneers, taking a gulp from his drink, he relishes in the burning in his throat even if it's momentarily, “The young folks can suck on my balls. Honestly, the fuck went wrong with young men these days, huh?” He clicks his tongue, “Christ, it is true; good times do create weak, sappy men.” His head jerks to the side sardonically, “Bunch of pussies seeking some women's attention with shitty songs and snivelling lyrics. Chicks don't want no men like that.”

“Yeah well,” Legend shakes his head, a sly grin on his face, “The world's changing, Soldier Boy, if you don't keep up with it, you might end up outdated, just saying.”

Soldier Boy raises a conceited eyebrow, “I'm America's son, hero of all heroes, an actual fucking legend; people practically worship the ground I walk on. In what fucked up sense would that seem to you outdated anytime soon?”

“Time is a tricky thing,” Legend answers with a sigh, “But only for us I presume. I mean look at ya, your sixty-fourth birthday was last month and you don't look a day past thirty. Some lucky bastard you are.”

Soldier Boy grins smugly, placing his glass on the coffee table in front of him where they sat in the living room of his personal quarters in Vought America tower.

Legend decides not to take the time topic any further, because he knows better, such discussions with the strongest supe ever lived are futile and meaningless. Furthermore, he doesn't want to poke Soldier Boy's massive ego, the latter isn't infamous for his temper for nothing. Legend is back to ground zero. So, he tries another way.

“You'll be doing it, though. It's your next mission.” The playful tone from Legend's voice vanishes, a more professional, assertive one replaces it, “It's nothing you can't do. Think of the gals who'll cream their panties when they hear your voice singing their favourite hit.”

Soldier Boy’s lips flip pensively, “Tempting. But still no.”

“Can arrange a collab with whoever female singer you want.” Legend tries again.

“Can ya pair me up with Monroe?” Soldier Boy gives his manager a shit-eating smile.

“For fuck's sake, Soldier Boy,” Legend says with a frown. The little shit, greatest superhero or whatever else, can honestly be a huge pain in his ass. “Be serious.”

“Oh, I'm dead serious,” Soldier Boy grumbles, “Can you do it or not?”

“She died thirty years ago for Christ's sake, of course I can't pair you up with her.”

“Then the answer's still no. I'd rather spend time rubbing one out at Pauline from Donkey Kong than contributing to entertaining a pansy dogshit audience.”

Fuck you. Legend really wants to spit it out loud but he carefully curbs himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Can't help but notice that making my work harder everyday is your new favourite sport, isn't it?”

“C'mon, don't be such a wuss,” Soldier Boy drawls, “Where would be the fun of an easy job? I'm doin' ya a favour; making you truly earn each penny you get paid. It's something we used to call 'hard work' back in my days.”

“Hard work can kiss my ass in that case,” Legend says humorously, shaking his head. Soldier Boy shares an amused chuckle with him.

“Seriously though—”

“Noir's cut out for that shit, not me. He'll be thrilled to do it.” Soldier Boy smirks wickedly as he interrupts him. The kid may not be funny. Fuck, he ain't, and that's precisely why he didn't get Axel Foley at Beverly Hills Cop — but it'd be hilarious to watch him fail in singing. Even if he didn't, nobody can beat Soldier Boy's performing talents.

Before Legend can answer he proceeds, “And tell him while you're at it that he has me to thank for giving him a window like that. He may as well make it fucking count. Make sure he does.” Legend shakes his head.

Soldier Boy and Legend continue to discuss business for another half an hour. Among the offers though; Nintendo wants to make a video game about Soldier Boy.

“For fuck's sake, do those Nips have any dignity?” Soldier Boy jeers.

“Well, it's all about business nowadays.” Legend says. “Arcade games have a large foot in the market, y'know. And, we're hiring many Japanese developers into our new entertainment department. So, I friendly remind you to tune down your slurs.”

Soldier Boy scoffs again. “I’ll see about that…”

When the talk is done, Soldier Boy dismisses the Director of Superhero Management of Vought.

“See ya at the wedding.” Legend says before he steps out of Soldier Boy's quarters.

“Hope fucking not.” The supe murmurs, taking the last gulp of his drink.

This evening Soldier Boy is to attend Dr. Jonah Vogelbaum's daughter's wedding as the guest of honour. The bride is a huge fan of his; her father has personally invited him to the wedding. What better honour can one get than having the greatest superhero ever lived as a guest at their wedding?

Soldier Boy heads to his dressing room to choose a formal outfit for the occasion. He's not going to wear his supe gear even though Vogelbaum made it very clear that he should. But Soldier Boy takes no shit from a nobody, and who the fuck Vogelbaum thinks he is to tell him what to do? Plus, that attire is for business, and him going to that wedding is a mere pursuit for pleasure. He isn't on some mission tonight but to find a good fuck for himself. Women, nonetheless, would throw themselves at his feet regardless of what he puts on. However, fancy tailored suits and bowties seem to pull women more effectively into his charm. When he clads in his supe suit, he's more intimidating; a god walking among men. Women would sigh at his sight and eye-fuck him, but beneath the layers of infatuation, he can perceive the lick of fear in their eyes. Like he's an invincible idol that cannot be touched by lesser hands. Not that he doesn't fucking relish in having such an impact, but he still prefers to pluck a catch in such occasions. Some nice chick who's eager to warm his bed in fearless vigour, some girl who can actually handle his raw strength and superhuman stamina. Especially when Countess won't be up his ass sulking like the bitch she is whenever he pays another woman his attention.

His relationship with Countess is nothing but for show. Pure business. Vought thought they looked good together and had an appealing chemistry in the public eye. Power couple and that shit. But in fact, Soldier Boy has no ounce of romantic feelings for her. Sure, they fuck around every now and then, but nothing more to add to it.

When he's fully dressed and spruced up he looks at himself in the full-length mirror and nods in approval. He'll definitely make the ladies' panties drop tonight.

Soldier Boy arranges a few lines of coke for himself on the coffee table. It'll help him  handle all of the cock-sucking kiss asses he's going to interact with tonight.

God fucking damn.

It takes the mightiest of his steel aplomb not to roll his eyes or hiss a curse. The moment he arrives at the wedding in the swanky hotel, he has everyone's attention all to himself. Guests swarming around him with hearts in their eyes, already forgetting about the wedding. Happy shrieks emit from the gals, and full admiration in the eyes of pals.

Ben puts on an expertly-feigned and charming smirk as he nods his head and shakes hands.

“Oh my Gosh, it's really him!”

A pretty woman in a dashing white dress wobbles down in his direction. The fucking bride. Soldier Boy's grin couldn't get any wider. The girl practically left her fucking husband standing with his groomsmen and came marching to him. Something huge and satisfying sprouts in the depths of his chest when he sees the young man briefly stink-eye in his way.

“If it ain't the queen of the show,” He drawls with a stentorian voice and a conceited raise of his brow. The bride holds a breath, her companion bimbos of bridesmaids sighing dreamily, “Well, congrats on tying the knot, darlin',” Large hand taking the bride's gloved one as he leans down to press a light kiss on her knuckles, and the girls squeal.

“Thank you, sir,” The corner of Soldier Boy's lips curls up into a half grin as he hears the groom's curbed voice, “A huge pleasure for us having the greatest man alive honouring our wedding,”

The man extends his hand out for a shake and Soldier Boy doesn't disappoint. “What can I say, Sonia is one of my best girls,” He sends a playful wink to the bride, and her groom's face rises in colour. However, she giggles timidly with blushing cheeks, and covers her mouth slightly.

“Thank you again, sir, for coming,” Sonia chirps, “Means a lot to us… to me, right, darling?”

Her new husband answers with tight lips, “Yeah, of course, please enjoy your time here, sir.”

Sure hell I'll do.

After signing some autographs, which mostly came from the bridesmaids on this special occasion, Soldier Boy lets out an elongated sigh before plucking a flûte of champagne from a server wandering around with a full tray of pleasantries. With the first sip invading his strong taste buds, he regrets it instantly. That shit is extra fruity with enhanced floral notes, it made his face controt in disgust.

“You're late,” The Doc's voice comes curt when he appears next to him, eyeing him disapprovingly. His unpleasing presence made the twitch of his face worse. The little shit. He should be kissing his ass and thanking him for wasting his time on this crap. Soldier Boy should hand it to him, though, he's got some balls. He scoffs. Ever since Vogelbaum gained Stan Edgar's infinite corroboration and support, he's become insufferable. And perhaps sometimes looming dangerously close to make Soldier Boy's hackles rise.

Ben grins indifferently at him, “Had a tight schedule,” Be glad I'm here you ungrateful old fuck.

Vogelbaum stretches his lips and nods, “You have my thanks anywho,” He grumbles, “Though I strictly told you to honour us with your presence in your suit.”

“Yeah, you did,” Soldier Boy replies with a shit-eating grin, “But wasn't in me to steal the light away from your breathtaking helluva daughter,” He patted the doctor's shoulder, “Cheer the hell up, Doc, it's your daughter's wedding and you have the greatest man ever lived as your guest!”

Ben can't endure another second of this man's company. He hands him the flûte and threads his way to the bar to order a drink. A real fucking drink. He sights a vacant stool next to a pretty woman who seems to be without company. He grins to himself when he catches a better angle of her. She is a beauty. Maybe she's the lucky one tonight. He smoothes his suit jacket and adjusts his bowtie before sliding nimbly on the stool.

He orders a strong liquor from the bartender and the beauty next to him cooes, “Make it two, please.”

He turns his head to her with an arched eyebrow, because fuck does he appreciate a woman who's not a lightweight, “Tough night?”

Her painted mouth curls up into an inveigling smile, “Should I ask you the same question?”

Brave. Tempting. He loves brave. Whereas most women are intimidated by him, this one here though, she looks unfazed. He likes it. He wonders what she's gonna sound when he's balls deep inside of her. Timid, brave, strong, weak, they all sound the same in his bed when he touches the magic button. One thing he was certain of was she'd sound pretty in her throes of pleasure.

He gives her figure a quick scan; she isn't one of bridesmaids that's for sure. She's wearing a forest green dress. Her skin is glowing beneath the velvet, and a pleasant fragrance emitting from her body. Her neck and ears are adorned with gold and rubies. She looks hazily beautiful.

“Groom's or bride's?” He asks when their drinks are served.

She flashes him a grin with those tempting lips, “Why wouldn't you hazard a guess like when you do on a minefield?” She winks, taking a gulp of her drink.

Interesting, he raises an amused brow. At least she ain't playing easy. He has to give her that; she's making his night way more entertaining. He likes to play prey and predator let alone when she's practically inviting him to do so.

A playful grin graces his lips, replying, “Can't risk bursting a pretty lady like you tho, can I?”

She lets out a small laugh, “God forbid, what kinda superhero would you be then?” His eyebrows knit together slightly as he watches her grabbing her purse and preparing herself to leave.

“It was nice running into you, sir,” She remarks, “But you'll have to excuse me…”

“Sure, sweet cheeks…”

She nods as she moves away with such grace and swiftness. Ben doesn't realise he was holding his breath until it clicks within him. Fuck, he forgot to ask her her name. But nothing to worry about, he catches her entering the powder room. In moments, he'll go after her and take this rather interesting conversation somewhere else.

He waits though. For more than fifteen minutes. Vogelbaum makes his way on the stage to raise a toast to his daughter and her groom, and he doesn't forget to give Ben a word of gratitude for being here. People cheer and applaud when the lights shine upon him, and he smiles and nods at them. On another occasion, he'd enjoy this to the fullest. His mind, however, is occupied by finding a pretty seductress. Can it be that she left? No, he doesn't think so. Fuck, if only he could distinguish her voice out of the many nattering and yapping voices despite his superhuman hearing. He considers asking Vogelbaum about her later. Maybe the man would be useful to him for once. But he will not have to, though.

The lights of the hall ebb away, save for the ones above the music stage.

A wide grin slips into his lips when he sees her behind the microphone, and their eyes lock for a moment. She gives him a teasing wink.

The little minx, he thinks.

Tender music emanates from the piano and she starts to sing with a silky voice.

The evening breeze caressed the trees tenderly

Damn, he likes that song. And her voice couldn't be more on brand for it!

The trembling trees embraced the breeze tenderly

He feels the said breeze of her cooes and it makes him shiver.

Then you and I came wandering by

And lost in a sigh were we

Ben conjures a vivid image of her sighs of pleasure.

The shore was kissed by sea and mist tenderly

She's the shore, and his mouth is the sea.

I can’t forget how two hearts met breathlessly

Your arms opened wide

And closed me inside

You took my lips

You took my love

So tenderly

A loud applause erupted from the guests when she finished, and Ben found himself amongst the riveted clappers.

God fucking damn.

Ben knows a lot of singers, hell, he works with them sometimes. But never has he ever heard such a mellifluous voice like this one! How come he hasn't known of her before? A new face, he guesses. He wonders if Legend knows her.

Ben stops clapping as his conversation with Legend that afternoon flashes through his mind. That's it.

Shortly after the wedding, Ben heads back to his quarters in Vought's tower, impatiently dialling Legend's number.

“That sappy song you wanted me to do—” He says right away.

“Well, good evening to you too,” Legend drawls from the other end, “As happy as I am to hear that, Ben, but I'm kinda fucking tired to talk business right now. Despite my marvellous traits, I'm still a human.”

“I'll do it.”

Soldier Boy could hear Legend switching the handset of the telephone to the other hand. And before the latter says anything he proceeds.

“Only on one condition...”

🦅 Next Chapter: A New Window.

🦅 Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist.

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist.

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin...

[blackcoldcrackedheart]

In a write-y mood...

Buck feels stuck in place while he watches Athena and Bobby reunite. She's banged up and bloody but Bobby's squeezing her hand tightly while emt wheels her to an ambulance.

Buck feels everything all at once. Relief, panic, fear, dread, he feels stuck and heavy. He feels like he wants to scream but he can't because then he would just be-

"Hey."

Buck jumps at the hand on his biceb.

"You okay?"

Buck tries to say something.

Anything but he feels like if he opens his mouth he might vomit.

"Evan? You're scaring me here, are you okay?"

Buck feels jittery and can barely lift his hand, let a lone understand what's being asked if him.

He feels his body being pulled, the weight of someone's hand in his only helps him minutely about where he is and what's going on around him.

He feels something hard press against his back and fingers under his chin and what feels like a hand against his chest.

"Let's breath, okay? Deep breath in and hold for three and out."

It takes a minute for his brain and body to process and follow through with the direction, but once he does he feels the hand on his chest start to slowly rub in circles and he leads his face into the hand that still on his cheek.

"Thanks." He huffs out, still panting a bit as his panic attack subsides and he feels his breathing become even again. There's still a weird tingly feeling down his hands, arms, and legs but he tries to literally shake the weird feeling out of his hands, flexing them just so he can get rid of that feeling.

"You had a panic attack, Evan." Buck sees the fear and concern clear as day in Tommy's eyes and facial expression. A bit of his heart hurts at the idea that he made Tommy worry.

Buck licks his lips, hating how dry his lips feel. He let's himself sag against what he now realizes is a firetruck.

"Yeah. I-I guess I panicked." He swallow uncomfortably, almost waiting for the disgust to show in Tommy's reaction.

Tommy nodded understandably, rubbing his thumb against Buck's cheekbone. "I bet. I almost did too. Who knew I would be co-piloting a plane to land with a cop and 10 yr old kid." He joked, Buck could tell he was watching him intently. "It's okay if you were scared. I was terrified too. Athena and everyone are safe."

Buck nodded, he hated that he could feel the panic creep in again and felt his eyes burn. "That's not exactly why I started to panic. Why I'm panicking now." He admitted, his voice raw and on the verge of tears.

He saw how Tommy's stance and expression changed, Tommy took a step closer and his brows furrowed as he took both hands to cradle Buck's face.

"What happened?"

Buck felt like he was gulping down sand. "I-I might have killed Gerrard." He admitted lowly.

"What?"

"I- not on purpose. I-I don't think? He just kept going and laying it on me and berating me and the others during roll call and I-I saw something fly towards us- him. It was a blade from a blade saw that the work crew was using and it broke and flew into the station so I-I sort of tackled Gerrard to the ground but I didn't think to protect his head or anything so he fell back hard because of me and he started to bleed out and I-I might have killed him and no one cares! I know he was a jerk, but I still might have killed the man and I don't know if I meant to save him or really hurt him or-"

"Evan." Tommy gave him a little worried shake by the shoulders, Buck hadn't noticed Tommy had called his name three times. He moved his hand to Buck's chest again, over his heart. "Breath, okay?" He reminded his boyfriend.

"You didn't kill him. From what you just told me, you saved him. You thought quickly on your feet too and if you were really hoping to hurt or kill him then I don't think you would be beating yourself up like this." Tommy pointed out.

Buck didn't look like he believed him. His entire face was red and he still looked like he would breakdown.

"I-I still might have killed him, Tommy. And no one cared, they all started to dance and I- what if he doesn't make it? I mean the guy was horrible, sure, but he still was a person. I'm sure he has a family who's gonna be -"

"Annoyed that he's hurt but probably relieved that a blade saw didn't go through him." Tommy noted, "We don't know what's going to happen next, he might live because of you."

"I don't know if that's better or worse." Buck admitted. Buck wanted to lay his head agaisnt Tommys shoulder and Tommy just wanted to hug his boyfriend. They were still on the clock and in the field.

"You're coming home with me after our shifts, okay."

"Tommy, you don’t need-"

Tommy waved him off, pointing directly at Buck's face now. "I want to, Evan. Let me take care of you, alright?"

Buck rolled his eyes, "This isn't about me though, I wasn't trying to make it about me!"

Tommy peered around them, making sure they were still out of sight. He pressed Buck back into the truck again. "I'm making it about you because you just went through something scary, Evan. I just watched my boyfriend have a panic attack so yeah, I'm going to make sure this is about you and after our shift, you're coming home with me and we're gonna take a nap and then have a long talk about what you want to next about Gerrard. Okay?"

Buck didn't know what to say.

"Please baby?"

Buck nodded, "Yeah, okay. You'll pick me up from the station?"

Tommy nodded, his smile getting Buck to feel butterflies as always. "I'll drive through downtime traffic twice over for you."

They both snickered at that before leaving to join their respective crew.

On the way back Buck messaged Tommy 'Thank you'.

He felt lighter as he saw Tommy's response '❤'

[miniwheat77]

Watch it burn. (Ghost x Reader.)

!this is pure smut, you've been warned. absolutely no minors. age gap, sex pollen, unprotected p in v sex, violence!

Ghost was hard headed and everyone knew that.

He didn't always communicate too well and sometimes he kept things to himself until it was unhealthy but that's who he was. He was a damaged person. He had walls up like fort knox. That was just Ghost. Not many knew about his past, but when you came along. Things started changing in weird ways that everyone on base never really seen coming.

Ghost seemed irritated by you at first. You were still pretty new to everything and needed some training but Laswell and Captain Price had both taken a liking to you and decided pretty quickly that you'd be a great addition to the team. It was an easy decision.

When you officially started on base, everyone fell in love with you immediately. Aside from Ghost obviously. You were still a little immature and Ghost didn't like that. The military wasn't meant for people like you and that caused a rift between you in the beginning. Slowly though, you started to prove yourself to him. When he was training you followed him around like a lost puppy asking him for tips and asking him to show you the best ways to stay in shape.

When he was in charge of you on missions, you always buckled down and followed everything he said to a T. You didn't act out or try to make light of any situations. You were mature when you needed to be and maybe that's where he started to grow soft for you. Ghost was always alone. He liked to work alone.

But once he'd gotten used to you being by his side all of the time, he almost hated it.

You followed him all over base. You ate each meal with him, even had a watch shift with him. You stuck by his side so often people started referring to you as his shadow.

At first, he didn't like it at all. Had even blown up on you for following him around so much which in turn got a taste of a side of you he had never seen.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? You're so bloody annoying. I'm not your fucking dad. Go away." He growled. You stopped in your tracks. Eyes narrowing.

"Is that an order, Lieutenant?" You had asked, which in turn made him roll his eyes at you.

"You're being ridiculous."

"No. I don't think so. Because unless you're giving me orders, you don't talk to me like that."

The hair on his body rose and he swore he'd never been so angry. But even as he stepped closer to you, you stood your ground. "Excuse me?" He asks. "You heard me. I'm not a kid, and you sure as shit aren't going to talk to me like that. I'm keeping you company and maybe I'm not doing that for you. Maybe I'm doing it for me." You step closer to him, his nose nearly touching yours. "And I know you're not my dad. But unless you're trying to meet him, lower your voice when you talk to me."

Your voice was quiet, but steady. Letting him know that you were not playing around.

He found out through Price the next day that your dad had passed away at some point in your childhood.

He'd never run to apologize to someone faster in his life.

From that point on, he'd gone easier on you.

---

It was a mistake.

A simple mistake that he knew he shouldn't have made as a Lieutenant.

You were the first to be infected.

Captain Price had sent the both of you on a mission. Meant to be a simple one of course. He sent his best he said.

You'd gotten a gash on you, but something was on the knife. Your veins started to glow. Pink almost as Ghost had described, which resulted in your eyes to roll back. He barely caught you as you passed out.

He quickly found a room and barricaded you inside. He needed answers.

After ambushing a man and dragging him inside with you, he started asking questions. "What was on the knife?"

"Was it poison?"

"How long does she have?"

But only seemed to get laughs from the man who he had tied up.

"It's not poison." He grits his teeth. Ghost is sure the knife in his leg is what's making him talk at this point.

"It's a drug."

Ghost grits his teeth. "What is it?" He slams him back into the wall. "So help me god if you don't start talking." He growls. Grasping the knife that's still in his leg, going to pull it out. "WAIT!" He yells, stopping Ghost. "It's..." He pauses. Looking down. "It's a reproductive drug."

Ghost looks at him confused. "What?"

"It's meant to increase your sex drive. Your body goes into overdrive." He hisses. "Reproductive organs work twice as hard and the hormones in the drug help induce pregnancy. It's.. still in the works." Ghost looks back at you. Still unconscious.

"What do you mean it's still in the works?" He asks.

"It's deadly in higher doses. It started out as a drug but it made it into the wrong hands and now it's a weapon." He breathes. "So.. she's going to die?" Ghost asks.

"Well.. Technically yes." He sighs. "Unless." He trails off. "Unless what?"

"How long ago was she infected."

Ghost looks down at his watch. "37 minutes ago." He looks at the man. "So.. In about.. 10 minutes. She'll wake up. Her body will feel hot and she'll probably be more aroused than she's ever been. And if you can stimulate her enough.. Her body might come down from it."

"If you can survive that long." The man laughs.

"We're gonna be just fine."

Ghost grabs hold of the knife and draws it back, where he had stabbed into the mans femoral artery starts to spurt blood out and in seconds the man is no longer alive. Ghost knows he needs to clear out the rest of the compound and come back for you.

He sets a timer on his watch and starts possibly the most stressful mission he's ever been on.

He's moving quietly but quickly, taking everyone he crosses by surprise.

But unfortunately, he gets infected.

Knife wound to the arm, just like you. He watches his veins change and knows he doesn't have long.

He doesn't know what to do yet and Ghost hates himself. You shouldn't be here. You're too new.

When everything is clear and he's sure of it. He's rushing back to you.

He pushes the desk away from the door and gets back inside, barricading it from the inside. "Ghost? What's going on?" You ask. He feels sick to his stomach. He sighs as he turns around, nervous to face you again. "I... I'm sorry Y/N." He breathes. "What?"

"Your wound.. It's infected with a drug."

"Please tell me you aren't gonna say sex drug?" You breathe. Making him narrow your eyes. "I must've heard him in my sleep." You nod to the man who's leaning over now. Ghost kneels down next to you. "I'm sorry Y/N. I never should've let you come here with me." He sighs.

"That wasn't your decision Ghost. It's not your fault."

He shakes his head. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do."

"Are you infected too?" You ask.

He nods his head. You sit up. "I think you know what we have to do Ghost." You look at him. Your face is deathly still. Letting him know just how serious you are.

"No. Absolutely not Y/N." He shakes his head. Standing up. He starts to pace the room. He's scared. "You'd rather die?" You ask. "No. No of course not. I just... Y/N. I can't do that to you." He shakes his head.

Ghost knows that you trust him. He trusts you too. You even opened up to him about how you were still a virgin because you'd only been in one serious relationship.

That one person who abused you and hurt you in ways that Ghost could kill for. Ghost never looked at you like this and he hates that this is his only choice. "I can't do that to you. I'm not gonna hurt you like you've been hurt. You deserve way better than this Y/N." Ghost feels like he's got an open wound in his chest at the thought of forcing you into something like this. He hates himself for allowing Captain Price to send you along on this mission with him. He didn't want to take you down with him like this. Before he realizes it, you're standing right in front of him. His racing heart steadies in his chest as you reach for his hand.

"Ghost. If we don't..." You trail off, looking down at the ground before taking a deep breath and raising your eyes up to look at him. "If we don't do something, we're going to die. You heard what he said. You and I both saw it. Saw the paperwork, the smoke bombs. This... it'll kill us if we don't." You look up at him. "And.. I don't know about you, but I don't want to die like this." You laugh.

"I can't do this to you Y/N." He hisses, clenching his eyes closed. "Come on, lets go somewhere without. You know." You glance toward the man slumped over at the other side of the room. Grasping his hand and dragging him into another room down the hall, conveniently, one with a bed. He sighs. "Sit down." You force him back onto the edge of the made bed. Luckily this was an upkept building. You take his hands in yours, moving between his legs, feeling him stiffen up immediately. "I trust you, Ghost."

He goes to speak up, but you stop him.

"You are honestly my best friend, and I know you probably don't see it the same way I do. But I trust you. You've shown me so much. Taught me so much. You protect me and you always put me first. I trust you to do this Ghost."

He clenches his eyes closed again. "I am your friend Y/N, of course I am. But.. I'm so much older than you. I thought you looked at me like a father figure, not like this."

A hiss leaves your lips, and Ghost can Physically see your veins turning pink under your skin. It seems unreal. Like something out of a movie. He knows if anything is going to happen, it has to happen now.

"Are you okay?" He asks. "Yeah, yes." You take in a deep breath. Knees feeling weak. "It's... Intense." You breathe. He grasps your hips, sitting you down next to him. "Fuck.. Lay back okay? It's gonna be alright." He breathes. "He.. He said stimulate. He didn't say sex." He breathes. Seeing you nod your head.

He helps you remove your cargo pants. Pushing you further up the bed. He swallows hard. He wants to curse himself, feeling himself get more aroused at the sight of you. It's just he drugs, yeah.

Just the drugs.

He lowers himself into you. Wrapping his arms around your thighs. "I'm sorry Y/N." He breathes.

His tongue dipping into you has you gasping out, clutching at the sheets. His eyes feel heavy as you react to him. You taste sweet and he wants to savor it. He wants to ask for forgiveness and take even more. It's just he drugs. It's just the drugs.

Your back arches and you cry out. Tears streaming down your face. It's just not enough.

"Ghost." You sob, making him look up at you.

"It's not enough."

Any of your veins that were visible under your skin are no longer blue in color, but pink. Your skin is beat red and hot. He grits his teeth as he reaches for his waistband. Once he'd gotten himself free, pants down at his mid thigh, there's no going back now.

He moves himself over you, taking a deep breath. He presses his forehead to yours. "I'm so sorry."

Feeling him penetrate you, piercing into you. You can't help but cry out. He grits his teeth, eyes clenched shut tight. He loves this and he hates this. This isn't how he would've wanted this to happen. He rocks his hips into you, body swallowing him up so perfectly. He forces you to look at him, pushing your hair out of your face. You're sweaty and it's sticking to you. "Are you okay?" He asks. You nod your head. "Yes, yes." You whine. You're out of breath. "I didn't hurt you did I?" He asks. "No, please." You claw at him. "Don't stop." You're nearly sobbing when you say it.

"Harder." You whine. "Y/N.. I'm gonna hurt you."

"Ghost." You grasp his face, forcing his mask off. You're surprised when he lets you. "You're not going to hurt me. I don't want you to be sorry." You breathe. "I want this, I've wanted this. And it's not the goddamn drugs talking." You breathe, staring him in the eyes as you say it. It's like a pin dropping in a silent room when those words leave your lips.

"What?" He asks.

"I've felt this way for a long time. Thought about it all the time. How you treat me so well and protect me. How you always come to my defense, you care about me."

"I do, I do care about you Y/N. But I'm no good for you." He grits his teeth, eyes filling with tears as he rocks into you harder. "That's bullshit and you know it." You claw at the sheets, tilting your head back as he drives himself into you harder. "I wanted you to. Wanted you to be the one to take it- I was going to ask when this mission was over."

You're choked up.

"I love you, Simon."

He loses it, chest tight. Tears stream from his eyes and he doesn't want you to see. Burying his face into the crook of your neck. You using his name, his real name. It's raw.

"Goddamnit I love you too." He sobs, drawing his hips back and burying himself inside of you again. Biting down on your neck. You look up at the ceiling, feeling his weight on you. Everything finally starts to sink in. Tears spill over the corners of your eyes as he works you to a high you're sure you'll never come down from. You clench your eyes closed once more, allowing yourself to feel everything. His pants and sobs in your ear, knowing that he feels this way too. They're getting unsteady and you know by how sloppy his thrusts are getting that he's getting close.

Feeling him, every inch of him. Sliding inside of you, drawing you closer and closer to the brink of pure bliss.

You're gone when he mumbles into your ear.

"I love you Y/N."

You cry out, the sounds leave your lips uncontrollably. He lowers his hand, rubbing circles over your clit. Pushing you through your high. The first time you've ever cum at the hands of someone else. He groans out, drawing away. He stares down at you. His eyes are bloodshot and his eyes are still watery. "I love you Simon, I trust you." You cup his cheeks with your hands again. "Give yourself to me." His body shakes as he reaches his high. Groaning out. He rests his forehead on your chest, trying to calm himself down. Relishing in the pleasure he feels. He knows he needs to calm down now, he's too worked up still. His heart pounds in his chest, but as he relaxes into you, it settles. He stays like that for a while. Calming himself down. When he finally pulls away, sliding out of you. He lies next to you. Pulling you into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you. It's silent for a while, but he finally breaks the silence. "I'm so sorry Y/N." He breathes. Hearing you laugh lightly. "Simon..." you trail off. "Why do you keep saying that? What do you have to be sorry for?" You look up at him, eyes piercing his. "Because you deserved so much better than this." He breathes. "Yeah? Like what? An uncomfortable barracks bed?" Your lips raise in a smile and he laughs. "You're such a brat." His chest shakes as he laughs. "It's my best quality, thank you very much." You sit up, climbing over him. Straddling his hips. "I wouldn't have wanted this to go any different. Listen." You tilt your head back. "Hm?" He asks. "Nothing but silence." Your eyes flutter closed and he breathes out, resting his hands on your thighs. Thumb gliding up the inside. "Did I hurt you?" He asks. You shake your head. "No. Not even a little." You breathe, laying your head on his chest. He covers you with a blanket. Wrapping his arms around you and holding you right. "Simon?" You mumble. "Yeah darling?" He asks, pushing your hair out of your face.

"I want to be with you."

He takes a deep breath. "I'm serious. I want everything with you. I want the good days. The bad ones too. I want a life with you, and it's okay if you don't want that with me. But I think you should know." You sigh, relaxing into him. You're completely relaxed. You're always relaxed even in dangerous situations with him. He keeps you safe. "We'll talk more about it when we're out of here.. okay?" He trails off. You nod your head against him.

—

The fire reflects in your eyes, they're glossy. Simon stands next to you. Arms crossed over his chest. His mask is on again, but pulled down around his neck.

The building is nothing but burning flames now. Everything that happened inside is a memory now. It's gone. "It's pretty huh?" You turn to look at him. He laughs. "Yeah, it is." He smiles. "You think it'll be all gone? The drug and everything inside?" You ask. He wraps an arm around your back, pulling you into him. "I'd like to hope so. But.. I don't think this is our last time crossing paths with this." He looks back at the flames. The warmth on your skin feels nice. "Let's get to exfil, yeah?" He looks down at you. "Wait-" you stop him as he goes to walk off. "Simon?" You ask. He turns his head to you. Taking him off guard by pressing your lips to his. He's frozen for a second, but relaxes into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. You cup his face again.

When you pull away, you grasp his balaclava. Raising it over his nose once more. "Let's get out of here." You smile. He grasps your hand, pulling you along with him. Picking up all of your gear and returning it to where it belongs.

[thelargefrye]

ATEEZ AS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHERS ... bullet - point fic ( 17+ )

pairing : teacher!ateez x teacher!f!reader (separately)

genre : teacher au, fluff, comedy, workplace romance, bulletpoint headcanons, implied co-workers to lovers (for all of them), secret relationships (for a lot of them)

word count : 4.1k

warnings : middle schoolers (yes this is needed), mentions of students shipping their teachers, mentions of a past make-out from college (mingi's section)

note : inspired by these prompts and my own job lol

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

what i think it would be like working with ateez in a middle school and perhaps being something more than co-workers with them.

KIM HONGJOONG

he's a math teacher – seventh grade and also head of the math department at the school

when he's teaching, he's in his element and he's very passionate about teaching his student and the content

he was terrible at math when he was a student and often tells his own students in order to motivate them...

sometimes it works but most times it doesn't

he's definitely one of the more stricter teachers at the beginning of the year, but lets up near the end of the year

students love him, like there's not one kid who hates him

some students do wonder how he manages to get away with his funky hair colors, but no one really questions it anymore

he's also very stylish and is known for his fashionable looks that make him look like he just came off the runway

the two of you met when you started teaching at the same school, he's been teaching for two years longer than you have

you also teach seventh grade and immediately clicked as friends on your first day

he answers any questions you have that isn't content related and is kind of seen as the head of the seventh grade as well

he gets along well with the older teachers who have been doing this for 20+ years, those teachers either go to you or him when they need help with the new programs that admin is making them use in class

a lot of the students ask him if you two are dating because you're the younger teachers in the grade-level and are always hanging out

"dating? why are you worried about who i'm dating? we have equations to worry about," he would say and always brush them off

most of the students drop, not really wanting to make hongjoong upset but that doesn't mean the question won't come up again later on

your students will also ask you the same question and like hongjoong, you brush them off and not really answering them

the students would often go back and forth on if you two were dating or not with some even trying to provide "evidence" that you were dating

and some students gave up on thinking that their literature and math teacher were dating

until one day you showed up to school wearing a cardigan

and not just any cardigan

a cardigan that hongjoong wore a month ago, one that students knew was custom made by their teacher himself

and the whole seventh grade lost their minds because holy cow, their literature teacher and math teacher WERE in fact dating

the evidence of you wearing hongjoong's cardigan was enough to convince all the students it was true

so then some of them decided to confront you both

"teacher kim, teacher l/n we know your secret."

you and hongjoong were of course confused because of course your students had to be cryptic about everything... seventh graders 😒

"we know you guys are dating! teacher l/n, you're wearing teacher kim's custom cardigan!"

hongjoong had never turned his head so fast in his life and he immediately looked at the cardigan and sure enough

it was his

and you two were busted because now all your students knew you both were at least something, if not more than friends

PARK SEONGHWA

seonghwa teaches eighth grade reading / literature, he also has his masters in special education and administration

he is also the teacher that heads student council – like he built it from the ground up after the teacher before him let it crash and burn allowed it to be ruined

but seonghwa rebuilt the student council club and now its flourishes thanks to his leadership skills and teaching the students those same leadership skills

being a teacher is like a family job, his mother was a teacher and taught at the same school that he now teaches at

he wanted to become one to continue her legacy

students think he's way too handsome to be a teacher

he's also way too nice to be a teacher but like... none of the students ever give him issues

like even the behavior students don't disrespect him like they would other teachers – its kind of crazy

you had always admired seonghwa because of how good he was at his job and honestly... you were kind of jealous of him too

but you wouldn't dare tell him

you can't help but be amazed when you watch him speak at department meetings and how he always voices his thoughts so elegantly

seonghwa is also never afraid to help you if he sees you struggling or to ask for your opinion during meetings when he notices you haven't spoken

and he'll always back you up which surprises you because you aren't friends or even in the same grade

you kind of developed a crush on him but again you would never tell him or anybody for that matter

which to be honest, your crush and admiration is probably what lead you to volunteering to help out with the student council overnight trip to a student council convention

it was you, seonghwa, plus the ten student council students that qualified to go

you really never knew who exhausting planning a field trip was and seonghwa amazed you once again with how well-planned out the trip was

it kind of made you feel guilty because of how little you did to help out with the planning

"don't feel bad y/n! i'm glad you volunteered to come, i usually struggle with finding someone to come with me to help chaperone."

"really?"

"yeah."

well... that did make you feel a little better

and of course since you two were the only chaperones, that meant the two of you got to room together

the students were pretty sure they almost saw you pass out in the hotel lobby when seonghwa told you that

"teacher l/n, are you okay! you don't look so good!"

"i'm fine..."

"you're fine with sharing a room together right?" seonghwa asks once the two of you are alone in the hotel room

the students were also in their own hotel rooms and winding down after the long trip, you could feel yourself sink into the bed once you got into the room

"its fine, i don't mind," you tell him and seonghwa gives you a warm smile as he settles down on the bed next to yours "are field trips always this exhausting?"

"only the overnight ones"

"great"

JEONG YUNHO

eighth grade history teacher but he's also taught sixth grade history in the past as well

yunho is very serious about teaching and strict when it comes to listening, doing work, being respectful, etc.

especially in the beginning of the year, but does let up a little bit near the end and after exams and stuff

he has a strict schedule that he follows when teaching his content and knows his content like the back of his hand

he has a routine and the students are quick to learn it and make sure the others are at least doing what they are suppose to be doing when the bell rings

but despite how strict and stuff he is, yunho loves teaching and the kids love his class

even if they don't like it at the beginning, the class and yunho will grow on them before the year is over

even the other teachers respect yunho and will ask him on how he teaches certain events and whatnot, always going to him for tips on where to find good materials

yunho is like the jack-of-all-materials

even has his own tpt page because of how much stuff he has made for his own class and co-workers

you will also always find him and san hanging out together in each other's room during their planning time

usually gossiping about students or other teachers

students have learned that when san walks into yunho's room, then its serious because san never leaves his room during class time

also no one ever really bothers yunho because of how strict he is with teaching and getting everything he needs done, to get done

however, students are shocked when you walk into yunho's room one day WHILE he's teaching to ask him a question

like their jaws drop when yunho stops teaching in order to help you with something and laughing with you as he brushes your apology off

it was like they just watched a mean dog turned into the friendliest puppy when you walked in

some of them questioned if they were transported to a different reality because there is no way this is happening

you and yunho are like night and day, yunho with dark button-ups and you with your funky colored pants

"you're seeing this to right?" one of them would whisper to the other students around them

the students were too stunned to speak

"hey! get to work, i expect you to have these notes written down by the time i'm done," yunho would say and immediately the students would get to work

"thank you teacher jeong, i appreciate the help with this new program"

"sure, its no problem," he says as he walks you to the door. "choi came to me during planning asking about it plus some other teachers as well"

"ah, well glad i'm not the only one struggling!" you let out a laugh and yunho returns it and laughs with you, "i'll see you after school, yeah?"

"of course"

you wave as you close the door behind you and yunho immediately goes back into his teaching mode

once again leaving his students shocked and with whiplash from how fast his attitude changed

"we really were in just another reality"

KANG YEOSANG

seventh grade history but wants to one day be a librarian

yeosang loves history but is also certified to teach reading/literature

a lot of the students and teachers love him for how nice he is to everyone

he really connects well with the behavior students, like a lot of them will always say he's there favorite teacher

even the ones who never come to class, go to yeosang's class because who in their right mind who skip teacher kang's class?

no one that's who

students will always go to him when there's an issue because they know he will help them

that's why a lot of them are surprised when they find out him and wooyoung are best friends since high school

"you and teacher jung are best friends!?"

"yep! have been for years!" and yeosang is proud to say that him and wooyoung are best friends and can teach together at the same school

none of the students can get over how handsome he is as well and a lot of sixth graders can only hope to get him in seventh grade

"teacher kang, you're so handsome you could be an actor!"

yeosang can only smile at the comments, not really saying anything as he's use to those comments by now

well coming from his students or other adults that is

however, hearing those comments (or reading them) from you is a different story

he doesn't know how you manage to time it whenever his students are doing independent work but you do

he'll be at his desk or walking around, when you come in and some the students will immediately greet you

you simply smile and wave at them before walking over to hand yeosang something

"i got the stuff from your mailbox while i was at mine," you told him

yeosang thanks you and you smile at him before turning and leaving

you usually go to the mailbox when you need a break from your class and there's already someone in there to help

yeosang looks at the stuff in his hands, and notices the folded piece of paper that had his name written nicely in your handwriting

he opens it as he walks to his desk and immediately feels a warmth overtake his face

'you look really pretty today, yeo ;) can't wait to hangout after school in our usual place! miss you already!'

yeosang quickly stored the note in his desk, before quickly going back to teaching and trying to hide the excitement of seeing you later to the back of his mind

CHOI SAN

eighth grade reading/literature teacher along with seonghwa and school's volleyball coach

he played volleyball when he was in school and so he's very passionate about the sport and his athletes

a tough coach and an even tougher teacher, but only because he knows all his students can do better than what they showing him

like seonghwa with student council, san managed to help the volleyball team go to nationals thanks to his coaching and the his girls' effort and teamwork

a lot of students are scared of him because of how he coaches, especially his athletes – like even just the mention of san gets them scared

but really san just wants the best for all his students and just like volleyball, he's also passionate about his teaching

very writing focused versus seonghwa who is more reading based, but they work really well together to make sure all their students are getting the same knowledge and material

san's not afraid to speak his mind during department meetings and the other teachers know this – like he will straight up call something out if he knows it won't work

seonghwa usually has to cut him off because of this, they are a very funny duo and students love watching them interact

"teacher choi is like a dark cloud and teacher park is like a sunny day"

like the kids, you are also intimidated by him because of how much just pure authority he gives off

like you would think he's a principal from how students act around him

he actually does step up as an admin when the actual principals are out of the building because he does have his masters in administration, so he could very well one day become a principal

but going back to you being intimidated by him 💀

you never really dared to approach him, always sitting on the opposite side of the room during department meetings

mainly because you didn't want to get on his bad side

"please teacher l/n, can you help us start this club?"

"sure, girls!" you were more than happy to help sponsor their club "who's the other teacher?"

you watched as the girls' faces deflated at the question, of course you don't blame them for not knowing that clubs needed two teachers to become official, not just one

"i have a teacher in mind!"

"who?" "tell us!"

"coach choi, can help! especially since volleyball is over!"

you felt the color drain from your face at the thought of san and you running a club together

"teacher l/n will you ask coach choi if he can help us?"

"sure... i'll ask."

"a club?"

"yeah, some of your volleyball girls recommended you and wanted to see if you could be the second teacher sponsor."

"ah, that's right. the school has that stupid two teacher club sponsor rule. always did think that was dumb."

san thought for a minute which felt like a lifetime the longer you stood in his classroom

"sure, why not. i'm sure it'll be fun to run a club together."

"i'm sure the girls will also appreciate it. i'll send you the information when i hear back from the principal about the club."

"of course, if you have any issues let me know."

"will do, thanks!"

that was definitely a lot less nerve-racking then you thought it would be...

maybe running a club san won't be so bad after all

SONG MINGI

mingi is THE ms. frizzle aka the best science teacher you will ever have

he teaches sixth grade science and is always having some sort of fun with testing experiments and theories with the students

science class will forever be ruined after you have him as a teacher because no one is doing it like mingi

literally older students will come by to see either him or wooyoung and they will always ask mingi what he is currently doing in that class

and while he's an amazing teacher – he's also hella clumsy

like students learn fast not to leave their things in the floor if they don't want this 6ft tall man tripping over and possible destroying their things

someone save this man from all those decorative pencil pouches and metal water bottles pls 💀

anyways, a lot of students love mingi because of his fun personality and not because he almost below up the science lab because a experiment gone wrong

very much into team building and having all the students work together towards a goal because he knows how important teamwork is in life and wants students to have it

a lot of students are actually intimidated by him when they first see him because of his tall stature and harsh look

but he's really cool once him and the students build that rapport

so a lot of students were surprised when they found out that you and mingi were best friends

it never really clicked for most of them since you both taught different grades AND subjects

but then during school assemblies and such, you and mingi would always be sitting next to each other

whispering and laughing to each other and it would leave students bewildered when they saw the two of you

like "what in the world are they laughing about?"

"you know... the kiddos asked me the other day about us," you said, leaning over and whispering into his ear

"yeah?"

"they asked me how long we've been friends"

"w-what did you tell them?"

"since college, i left out the part where you made out with my best friend before tripping over her bag and landed into my lap."

you could tell mingi was blushing, his ears turning red at your words

"i-it wasn't like that!"

"i know, no need to feel embarrassed. i agreed to go out with you didn't i?"

you couldn't help the smirk on your face while mingi had a pout on his own, completely forgetting that the two of you were suppose to be watching the talent show and not flirting

JUNG WOOYOUNG

teaches sixth grade math and is an on-going menace to his students

you either love or hate him because of how he teaches and runs his classroom

always changing the seating desk arrangement in his room which keeps students on their toes

he's always a complete 180 from hongjoong who is the head of the math department

like students get whiplash when they go from wooyoung to hongjoong because of how different they are

but that's not to say wooyoung is bad at his job, on the contrary wooyoung is fantastic at his job

always has a math pun ready to whip out when needed and is always dishing out savage remarks to his students when they try to be a smart-ass to him

they learn quick that they won't be able make smart comments with him around

wooyoung is just very blunt with how he's feeling – like if a student makes him mad you'll know he's mad

does a lot of bootcamp punishments (i.e makes them do exercises when they don't listen to him like: jumping jacks, squats, nothing too extreme) this makes kids not want to disrespect him because they know what will happen if they do

some parents have thought it was "extreme" but he simply told them "well it got your child to listen for once in their life" – that shut the parent up real quick

but wooyoung rarely gets serious because he has the respect from students and so those bootcamp punishments are rare and few in-between

most of the time he's fun and playful which also travels over to how he acts with his fellow teachers

including you

wooyoung always visits you when he's on his planning period

like your class can always expect him to stop by at least once during their class

which none of them mind cause that means they can see their favorite math teacher again but don't tell hongjoong that

however with his constant visits, it makes students question if you guys are dating

especially when wooyoung is always complimenting you when you're at your desk and you both think that the students can't hear you

"you look very lovely today, teacher l/n."

"watch yourself, jung."

you eventually have to run wooyoung off so you can get back to teaching

"oh they are totally dating" students would whisper to each other watching the two of you interact

students really really ship you guys together and are always questioning you about your ideal type and stuff

but you always brush off their questions and comments about how you and teacher jung would look great together

and eventually the students had moved on to something else and you were thankfully left alone about your love life by your students

until one day when you and wooyoung were spotted by some students outside of school

you and him had went to the store together, not really thinking about school as you both spent time together

however that peace between the two of you was set ablaze when heard a familiar "teacher l/n! teacher jung!" and snapping the two of you out of your daze

wooyoung was quick to greet the students who approached you both, a smile on his face and arm around his shoulder

and you knew your secret was out because of how the students' zoned in on wooyoung's arm around your shoulder

you couldn't help but dread what would happen when you arrive at school tomorrow

"i didn't like keeping it a secret anyways," he would making you smack the back of his head in response before pushing the shopping cart and walking away from your boyfriend

CHOI JONGHO

eighth grade math who got roped into teaching seventh grade science as well

jongho is really in his element when it comes to math

and is really hanging by a thread when it comes to science

like he's the opposite of mingi and HATES science – like who thought it was a good idea to have this man teach it?

oh, they did a budget cut and so they were down a science teacher? makes sense.

the kids either love or hate him because of how he teaches

his eighth graders and seventh graders are like night and day when it comes to literally everything

it might also have something to do with the content but just let him complain about his seventh graders

you actually found him one day in the workroom stressing over his science while eating his ramen

you remember some of your kids talking about jongho and you've seen him at faculty meetings

but never had a one-on-one conversation with him mainly because he was in a totally different content and grade from you (he was still an eighth grade teacher at the end of the day)

you know hongjoong really likes him and praises him for learning how to adapt so well to a new content era that he never studied in

you think that for a first-year teacher he's doing a lot better than you had when you were in his shoes

and you figure what's the harm in talking to him and seeing how he's doing

"everything going okay, teacher choi?"

he's caught off guard by your voice, jumping and looking up at you as you walk over to get your copies from the copier

"oh, um, i'm fine. just thinking about what i'm gonna do for my science class"

"ahh, that's fair, i still can't believe they have you teaching science and math for your first year"

jongho lets out a laugh which is followed by a small "yeah... i can't either"

"but hongjoong says that you're doing a good job for your first year, so you should be proud! hongjoong never compliments anyone"

"really?"

"really. and just know that if you ever need help just reach out. i know you're not a seventh grade teacher but us who teach seventh grade needs to stick together. its a tough group."

"oh my god, i'm so glad you think that as well! i thought it was just me!"

"oh no, everyone knows seventh grade is always the worse year, we all struggle with them at some point"

"that really makes me feel better about doing my job"

"jongho, you're doing a great job. the kids love you and there will always be those kids that make you feel like you are terrible at your job. but all you have to do is teach to the ones who want to be there, and worry about them."

you tell him the exact same words you were told when you were a first year and thinking the same thing

"thank you, y/n"

you can't help but smile as you nod your head, taking your copies and heading back to your room while jongho finishes his ramen

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