#if they went into my mouth And hurt i would probably have started throwing shit

[dreamsteddie]

Wowza. Part one blew up way more than I thought it would so here! Part two! I do have more thoughts about this so there might be a couple more parts to come. We'll see ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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Eddie takes half a second to consider just not answering. Maybe throwing his phone away and never going back to the restaurant they went to last night so he never has to confront whatever it is that's about to happen. Maybe even fleeing the country and living alone on a sheep farm with no friends and go relationships ever again so something like this never happens again.

But then he thinks of Steve. Kind, funny Steve with the bright eyes and soft skin who looked at Eddie like he could fall in love with him and he knows that whatever comes next, Steve deserves for Eddie to see it through with him.

New Message: Steve H.

Hey

Just that one word sends Eddie's heart into his throat. He can see that Steve is still typing, those little ellipses of doom popping on and off the screen. Realistically, Steve probably doesn't know what happened, right? Eddie's pretty sure Steve wasn't in on it and it's been less than an hour since Eddie himself found out, so probably not.

Steve H: Gareth called me

Fuck.

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.

If Eddie's heart was in his throat at the first text, the second one has it dropping through his body and out of his goddamned ass. It's not that he doesn't want Steve to know. He was always planning to tell him, he was just hoping he could be the one to do it. Gareth being a little shit and calling Steve first was not part of the plan.

Steve H: He told be about the prank. I'm sorry if I wasn't what you expected and you were just being nice. We can pretend it never happened. No hard feelings.

Eddie slams his head into his pillow. This is such a cluster fuck he can hardly bring himself to look at the text but he needs to come up with some kind of response, like, yesterday if he wants any chance of keeping the man of his dreams from running for the hills because apparently, Eddie's friends are trying to destroy his life. He takes a deep breath and starts typing.

Eddie: Hey, I'm so sorry about that. I just found out about what they did an hour ago at practice. I didn't think they would just call you out of the blue like that, I was just about to text you.

Not completely true, but Eddie was going to text him about it, just after screaming into his pillow and making a couple Vudu dolls first.

Eddie: For what it's worth I really do like you and I would love to still take you out on that second date, but I understand if my friends scared you off and you want nothing to do with me. I know it's fucked up.

It takes a minute for Steve to respond, the typing bubbles ebbing and flowing as Steve types and retypes whatever it is he wants to say. Eddie is about ready to call it a wash and start googling sheep farms for sale in Ireland when a new text comes in, dispelling all thoughts of learning to sheer wool.

Steve H: Are you sure?

And fuck if that doesn't hurt his heart. Eddie has spent all of two and a half hours with Steve, he's a virtual stranger, but Eddie can swear he can feel all of Steve's secondhand insecurity through that one lonely sentence. Before he even registers what he's asking, he send a quick reply.

Eddie: Can I Facetime you?

Before Eddie can try to rethink his decision, his screen lights up with a notification. Steve is calling him.

Eddie scrambles to answer, fumbling his phone a little in his haste and almost missing the call completely. He manages to get it on the last ring, breathing heavily in a way he knows can't be flattering.

All thoughts about his lack of dexterity fly out the window when he looks into his screen. On their date, Steve was perfectly put together. Hair meticulously done, clothes freshly pressed, and a light sheen of lipgloss accentuating the perfect curve of his mouth. While Steve is still beautiful through the lens of his camera, it's clear that he's been crying. His eyes are red and a little puffy, hair out of order in a way Eddie thinks is probably unusual for him, and Eddie can see that he's wearing a well-loved beige hoodie.

"Hi," Steve says, waving a shy hand almost the same way he had last night.

"Hey sweetheart," Eddie says, keeping his voice low and gentle, desperate to soothe Steve however he can through the distance of their phones.

For a minute they just look at each other, neither one knowing what to say in a situation like this. Eddie sees Steve gearing up to say something, but he cuts in before he starts. There's something he needs to say while Steve can see him face to face.

"I'm really sorry about what happened!" He says, much lounder than he intended. "My friends were being dicks. I haven't dated in a while and instead of being normal fucking people they set up this whole stupid prank but I swear I wasn't in on it!"

Something about what he says draws a small smile from the corner of Steve's mouth, so Eddie keeps talking. "Besides, if they wanted to prank me they should have picked someone that isn't a literal fucking model in disguise. There wasn't a chance in hell I wasn't going to beg you for that second date."

At that, Steve gives a little chuckle and it lifts Eddie's heart from where it'd fallen onto the floor and puts in back in his chest 10 times lighter than before.

"Jesus, are you always such a flirt Munson?" he says.

"Only when the boys are especially pretty," Eddie responds.

Steve gives another little laugh at that before sobering up. He gives Eddie a long look through the phone, and Eddie lets him.

"Are you sure you don't want to just call it quits here man? Gareth was pretty adamant that I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for. I don't want you to feel like you have to humor me out of kindness." There's a forced flippancy to Steve's words that Eddie knows well from his own Munson Coping Strategies Handbook. Steve is trying to give him an out, but Eddie can tell that he doesn't want to.

For the first time since this all started, Eddie is well and truly mad. Gareth and Jeff had absolutely no business poking around in his love life in the first place, but now they've reached out to the guy Eddie already told them he liked to what? Tell him never mind actually, we don't think you're the right guy for our friend even though he told us very explicitly how into you he is.

Eddie lets all the frustration, anger, and tenuous hope building up in his chest fuel his reply. This one has to count, he can feel it. It's a charisma saving throw with the whole campaign on the line. He can't miss this one.

"Honestly Steve, if you asked me two days ago what I was looking for in a partner, I probably would have said I wanted to date another alternative metalhead or punk who likes playing DnD and getting high on the weekend." Eddie can see Steve's shoulders slump as his eyes dart away, but he pushes on, determined to make his point.

"But, I haven't had as good a time as we had last night in a really long time." Steve looks back up, eyes alight with the same tentative hope Eddie himself is channeling. "I think you're funny and interesting, and you have the absolute worst takes on ice cream flavors, and you're hot as hell. Like, seriously the hottest guy I've ever seen in real life."

Steve smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkling.

Critical success.

"So, about that second date."

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Tag List

@wheneverfeasible @the-dark-hearts @sofadofax @wrenisfangirling @whatfinestandsfor @lilpomelito @raisedbylibrarians @ollyxar @mugloversonly @xxbottlecapx @hezaaxdexangelous @kimsnooks @that-one-gay-crow

[haihoneys]

Afternoon Delight

Summary: The one where Seonghwa and reader are friends who are mutually pining for each other until an accident in the kitchen changes everything.

Word Count: 2,541

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader  

A/N: implied mutual pining!! there's literally barely any plot here lolol

Warnings: barely proof read. poor grammar in all kinds of ways. smuttttttt. unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, fem receiving oral, mentions of a cut finger lolol

————

Everything happened so quickly… One minute, Seonghwa was chopping vegetables for the kababs you were preparing to throw on the grill. The next, he was hissing and dropping the knife to clatter against the island.

“Shit!” His curse was sharp as he sucked his bleeding finger into his mouth.

You gasped, discarding your own knife and reaching for the kitchen towel draped over the oven door handle. “Oh Hwa, let me see.”

A grimace twisted onto his face as he held his hand out to you. Thankfully, the cut isn’t nearly as bad as you’d expected. Some disinfectant and a bandage should do the trick. “C’mon, let’s get this cleaned up, hm?”

Seongwha waved you off, “I can handle it. Just tell me where the first aid kit is!”

You huffed, eyes rolling so hard Seonghwa was sure you caught a glimpse of your brain. “You’re my guest, Seonghwa. And you were helping me cook dinner! I’m not letting you clean and bandage a wound on your own.”

“Okay, first of all… It’s not a wound, Y/N. It’s barely a cut! I’m fine!” He chuckled as he said it, praying the heat working its way up his neck and cheeks wasn’t noticeable. The last thing he needed was you seeing him fucking blush over the fact that you wanted to take care of him like that. 

Then you grabbed his uninjured hand, your touch effectively pulling him out of his thoughts, and tugged towards the small bathroom just off the kitchen. You pulled him inside and nudged the door shut so you’d have better access to the cabinet where your first aid kit sat.

“Run your finger under the cold water while I find everything,” you instructed him, turning to gather your supplies. 

He did as he was told, rolling his eyes playfully at your bossiness. 

Once you had everything you needed to fix him up, you turned back to him and gently took his injured hand. “This might sting a bit,” you mumbled as you took a peroxide-soaked cotton ball and dabbed at his finger.

Seonghwa hissed and flinched, jerking his hand back and cradling it against his chest. 

Scoffing, you took his hand and dabbed at it a second time, tightening your grip ever so slightly when he tried to pull away again. “Okay, now it didn’t hurt that bad. Don’t be a baby.”

He pouted down at you, bottom lip jutting out comically. “I’m not being a bab- OW!” 

You snorted as you tossed the cotton ball into the trash can and reached for a bandage. “Yeah,” you laughed, “you are.”

You opened the bandage, peeling the paper off and letting it fall to the counter as you readjusted your grip on his hand so you could wrap it around his finger. When it was securely in place, you brought it up to your lips and pressed a soft kiss to it. 

“There, all better.” You smiled up at him, and his breath caught in his throat at the warmth on your face. 

Without thinking, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours. It was a whisper of a kiss, his lips just barely brushing over yours before he pulled back. You blinked up at him, eyes so wide it would have been comical in any other setting, but were otherwise unmoving.

Seonghwa started to apologize, taking your stunned silence as a rejection. His anxiety ratcheted up, pulse pounding in his ears.

Then you surged forward, hands fisting his shirt so tightly your nails probably could have torn the fabric had they been a fraction sharper. You pulled him into you and smashed your mouth back to his, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. It was raw and primal, and it went straight to your cunt. 

It felt like his hands were everywhere. Your hair. Your ass. Your thighs. Your face. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to feel every inch of you. Then he wanted to taste it. He’s wanted to find a bed or even a couch, somewhere soft where he could spread you out and take his time with you. Draw out your pleasure and his own until neither of you could function anymore. But right then… he needed you right that instant, or he honestly might have dropped dead at your feet. 

He had you pressed up against the door, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping the hem of your skirt. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will. We can go back out there and act like this never happened.” And he was fully prepared to do just that. He was man enough to do that if that’s what you wanted. 

“Please,” it’s a sweet little sound, and he thought he felt his heart stop in his chest at the desperation in your voice, “Please don’t stop.” 

He hummed and started kissing and sucking and biting at your neck, hands moving to hike your skirt up around your waist. Long, deft fingers started tracing you over your panties, smirking when you moaned his name. 

“Shhh, I got you baby,” he mumbled into the skin of your neck. 

His fingers hooked into the side of your panties, pulling them aside so he could rub at your clit. Slow and teasing movements that have you melting into his touch. 

Then he slipped a finger inside you, and he practically dropped to his knees when he felt how truly wet you were for him already. Seonghwa wanted to drink you in, make you cum all over his face, then lick you clean before starting over from the beginning. He crooked his finger forward, testing the angle and pressure until you pitched forward in arms. He keeps rubbing there, the feeling near torturous as he adds another finger and twists his wrist so that the heel of his hand is grinding into your clit with a delicious pressure. 

You clawed at him, ready to rip your pleasure from his bare skin if you needed to. You muttered some strangled version of his name combined with “please” and he can't take it anymore.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, hoisting one of your legs up onto his shoulder, and dove into you. 

His inhumanly long tongue laved over your clit before he wrapped his mouth fully around it, fingers still furiously working against that sweet spot inside you. He groaned into your pussy, and the vibrations of it nearly did you in. Your vision was going white around the edges; you were so close you could taste it.

Without a warning, he pulled away. The loss of his mouth made you want to cry. You start to beg, ready to promise him anything, offer up your very soul, if he would just put his mouth back on you.

“Need you to cum baby. Can you do that for me?” He kissed the request into the plush flesh just under your belly button, tongue slowly licking his way back down towards your pussy. 

Long lashes fluttered up at you as he wrapped his lips around your clit, holding your gaze as he sucked hard enough to hollow out his cheeks. And that’s the image that sent you into complete oblivion. Seeing this man on his knees for you… it’s a piece of artwork you’d never forget. 

Seonghwa worked you through it gently, letting you ride out your high on his tongue and fingers until you were trembling above him. He brought your leg back down, tenderly stroking up and down your thigh as he stood. 

He leaned in, mouth just barely hovering above yours as he whispered, “You did so great for me.” Then he kissed you again, the taste of you still on his tongue making you moan into his mouth.

He tried to take it slow, to be sweet and gentle in the wake of your orgasm. But when you moaned like that.. the tether he had on his self-control snapped. 

Strong hands gripped your hips and spun you around to face the mirror. He nudged your feet apart, making just enough room for him between your thighs. 

“Hold on to the counter,” it was more of a command than a request, his voice so deep and guttural it sent a shiver down your spine. You did as you were told and looked up to watch his face as he admired you. You deepened your arch a little and he found your gaze in the mirror. 

Your head was still swimming; you didn’t even register the fact that he’d undone his pants and pulled out his cock. Something you want to remedy. Soon. 

He stroked himself, plush bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he stared down at your cunt peeking from between your thighs. Then he stepped forward and rutted against you, both of you moaning when his tip caught at your entrance, just shy of sliding home. You were ready to beg for him again when he gave you the sweet relief of actually pushing inside. 

A strangled gasp tore from your throat as he bottomed out. You weren’t expecting the searing ecstasy that spread through your body at the feel of him, his thighs pressed flush to the back of yours. 

He had one hand gripping your hip so tightly you swore there would be little indents of his fingers there for days to come; the other hand was pressed against the glass of the mirror. He rocked back slowly, and the deliciously heavy drag of his cock had you whining and keening for him.

Seonghwa shhhed you and pressed kisses to your neck and ear, murmuring something about other people being able to hear. Caught up in the heat of the moment, you had completely forgotten about the other friends you’d invited over for dinner. Most of them definitely within earshot.

But you didn’t care. Let them hear! They could have a front-row seat for all you cared. 

Seonghwa knew better than that, though. He knew that when all was said and done, once you were more level-headed, you would be mortified if anyone heard you. So he contorted himself and leaned back to fumble with the shower, spinning the handle to turn the spray nearly all the way up in hopes of muffling the sounds. 

He turned back to you and folded himself over you, thrusting back up into you to the hilt. It had you squealing, clawing at the countertop for purchase, anything to grip onto. Steam filled the room quickly, condensation turning everything into a slippery hazard. He slapped a hand against the mirror, trying to find his own leverage. His hips are pounded into your ass, the tip of his cock kissing at your cervix. 

He finally gave up trying to gain any actual leverage in that position, moving both hands to grip at your hips and pulling you into him as he fucks in and out of you. You weren’t even forming coherent words at that point, just a blubbering mess begging for him. You didn’t even know what you were begging for… you thought if it got any better, you might actually see god and all his angels

Then Seonghwa growled out a low “fuck” and pulled all the way out of you. You didn’t even have time to protest or question what he was doing before he spun you around and grabbed the backs of your thighs to hoist you up on the counter. 

More than a little disoriented from being manhandled into the new position, you started to fall back against the mirror. But he was still present enough to shoot out a hand and cup the back of your head, cushioning the slight impact just before your skull made contact with the glass.

It was such a juxtaposition, the tenderness of that act compared to the lewdness of you sitting there spread open to him and him standing with his cock out and leaking precum. 

You were both panting, heavy breaths only adding to the growing heat of the room. He hooked his hands behind your knees and pulled you so that your ass was barely resting on the counter. “Keep holding on baby. Don’t want you to fall.” 

With one hand, you gripped the edge of the counter, the other winding into his hair just as he slid back into you. You moaned out his name, and he was pretty certain he could die a happy man right at that moment. 

He kissed you again, swallowing all your sounds as he set the same brutal pace he had just a heartbeat ago. It’s wet and messy, all clashing teeth and bitten lips.

“Touch yourself for me,” he mumbled into your mouth, pressing his forehead to yours so he could watch with heavy-lidded eyes as you slithered your hand between your bodies to swirl tight little circles against your clit.

It only took a moment before white-hot pleasure was licking its way up your spine, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You cried out as you came, his name a song on your lips. 

You went soft and pliant then, your arms winding around his neck to pull impossibly closer to you. You kissed his temple, murmuring sweet things about how he’s making you feel so good, how he’s stretching you out and filling you up so perfectly that he must have been made for you. 

His thrusts turned sloppy then, jerking and stilted. With a groan of your name, Seonghwa pulled out and stroked his cock in brutally quick movements. He came with a deep moan, hot cum painting over your pussy and thighs. 

He leaned against you, his head resting on your shoulder as he caught his breath. You ran your fingers through his hair and pressed kisses to the side of his head and face. 

The small bathroom was suddenly quiet except for your heavy breathing and the soft hissing of the shower. When he finally came to and realized what a mess he made of you, he fumbled around the bathroom until he found a washcloth and ran it under the (now lukewarm) water from the shower before shutting it off and turning back to you. 

You tried to take the washcloth from him, but he grunted and swatted your hands away. He gently reached between your thighs and rubbed at your pussy before cleaning off the mess on your thighs. 

He tossed the rag into the shower and tucked himself back into his pants before helping you off the counter and readjusting your skirt. He swiped your panties off the floor and tucked them in his back pocket.

“Those are mine,” you tease with a laugh. 

“Not anymore, they’re not.” He kissed your temple and smoothed your hair out of your face. “You did so well for me, angel.” 

You melted into him, not expecting the words to have that much of an effect. You hummed and nuzzled further into his chest, his hands petting over your hair. 

A knock on the door startled you out of your peaceful little bubble. “Are you two almost done in there? I’m about to piss myself!” Wooyoung whined before shaking the door knob.

[artiststarme]

Officer Phil Callahan wasn’t often seen in a positive light. Most people viewed him as immature, impulsive, condescending, and a poor excuse for a poor excuse of a police officer. However, no one could accuse him of being a bad brother. He prided himself on always being there for his little bro and his brother knew he could count on him too for anything. As such, Phil was the first person he went to after receiving the beating of all beatings.

So, when Phil opened his front door to see his baby bro leaning against the doorframe for support with his bruised face bearing more resemblance to a blueberry, he dropped everything to help him.

“Holy goddamn shit, Steve! What the hell happened to your face?!” He ushered Steve inside and settled him on the well-worn couch adorning his small living room.

Phil didn’t know what had happened to his brother and he didn’t know who had tried to pulverize his face but he did know whomever had committed this atrocity would pay. He didn’t care if he had to arrest Jonathan Byers again or face off against the powerful Hagan parents to cuff Tommy H in public, he was going to make someone suffer.

His rage only grew as he watched Steve dry heave and vomit for hours on end. Phil aspired to return the beating to the perpetrator that gave Steve the headache of all headaches and physical damage to boot. He took care of Steve through the night by waking him up every four hours, rubbing his back through the dry heaves, and giving him water to keep him hydrated. As soon as he seemed stable enough to be left alone though, Phil was badgering him for the name of the attacker.

He waited just long enough to hear, “Billy Hargrove, but don’t-“ before he was off.

Dressed in his Sheriff’s Deputy uniform with his gun on his hip, he set off to find the sack of shit that hurt his brother. Would this look bad in front of the townspeople? Definitely. Could it hurt his job and his position in the department? Most probably. But he would do what he had to do and probably beat the shit out of that dirtbag in revenge.

As expected, the Californian hippie delinquent was standing by his Camaro in front of the school with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Phil pulled the patrol care right up to his bumper before storming up to him and shoving him against his own drivers side door. Billy’s cigarette dropped ashes against Phil’s forearm but the rage inside of him burned even more than the fluttering ash. The eyes of nearly the entire student body rested on him but he didn’t let it phase him.

“You roughed up Steve yesterday,” Phil growled.

“You’re crazy. Who the fuck-“

“You’re gonna shut up and listen, buttercup. If you even think about touching Steve again, you kinky shit, I will make your life a living hell. Stay away from my brother.”

“Whatever, man. Did Steve go running home to mommy-“

He didn’t even register his just flying until Billy’s head whipped to the side followed by a pain in his hand. Shit, he just hit a kid. A bitchy one, but a kid nonetheless. “I’m sorr-“

“Is that all you got? I guess you and Stevie-boy both hit like the pansies you are.” Billy sneered at him with blood coating his teeth.

This little prick. Phil wasn’t going to let some high school bully get away with this. First he tries to kill his brother and then he starts talking shit about the both of them? Nope, no siree. Phil pauses but a minute before pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt and latching them around a struggling Hargove’s wrists. “Okay, you little shit. You’re under arrest for felony assault, attempted murder, and anything else I can throw at you. No school for you today, now get in my car.”

“Are you fucking serious?!” He yelled, bloody spittle spitting from his lips.

“Yep, just like that concussion you gave my brother. Now shut up and stop resisting before I have to shoot you.” He wouldn’t actually shoot this kid but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Phil knew the charges probably wouldn’t stick but he still felt lighter, relieved, that he had gotten at least a little bit of justice for Steve. And if the increasingly panicked murmurings in the backseat brought a smile to his face? Well, no one was any the wiser.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

hi, can i request a post-war drabble wherein levi's son shyly asks his dad if he could help him get an undercut too? 🥺 he looks up to his dad a lot so he wanna be like him 🥺

y'know i hope that fact that these are starting to turn into oneshots can make up for the fact that it's taking a minute for me to pump these out 🥹

A Clean Cut | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff

Some families went out on weekends. Others would have movie nights or travel.

Yours just ended up cleaning the house. It needed to happen. With how fussy Levi could get about the state of the house and how quickly it gets chaotic due to the fact that you had an adolescent running around the house with his friends constantly, cleaning was a multi-weekly thing.

You were currently mopping the kitchen while Levi sat on the couch folding the laundry. It was something he could do while sitting on the couch. Plus, he could easily get your son involved in helping. Levi folded the laundry into stacks, and your son would go place the folded stacks into their appropriate locations.

You glanced up as you saw your son dutifully getting up every now and then with a freshly folded stack of laundry before disappearing into one of the bedrooms to organize the fabric into the drawers. He had the same jet black hair as Levi, and given the fact that he was almost as tall as Levi now, you would occasionally find yourself confusing the two when they popped up at the edge of your field of vision.

He looked up to Levi a lot, fascinated by the fact that his dad was a core soldier in the War. You were able to tell that he was always trying to model himself after him, picking up similar cleaning and eating habits, and even subtly modeling his outfits after his. It was cute, although Levi was more oblivious to it than you were.

Levi glanced up at him, noticing that he had fallen quiet and had just been staring at him for the past 5-10 minutes.

"What?" Levi asked with a raised eyebrow. "If you're impatient for another stack, go help your mother with sweeping or start wiping the dust off the tables."

"The tables are clean."

"If I find a single speck, I'm making you do the whole house all over again."

It was hard to tell if Levi was being serious or joking.

"Dad...can I ask you something?" he asked timidly.

"Yes, I will actually check the surfaces and will make you do it again."

Your son rapidly shook his head. "It's not that! It's..."

"It's what?"

"...can you help me cut my hair?" His voice was getting quieter each time he spoke.

"What's wrong with your hair now?"

Levi was able to vaguely notice that he was hunched over and avoiding eye contact, as if he was embarrassed about something. It was endearingly similar to the way that you reacted when you were wanting to ask him about something, but were too embarrassed to do it right off the bat.

"Spit it out already."

Levi leaned forward a bit as your son began to speak, but it was barely audible.

"What?" An annoyed tone was already creeping into Levi's voice in response to your teenage son mumbling incoherently.

"...was wanting an undercut like yours," he finally forced out, looking off to the side, with color rising up to his cheeks as he stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.

Out of all the reasons that Levi could think of as to why your son would suddenly want a haircut when it looked perfectly fine, this was not one of them. His face immediately went from an unamused and slightly annoyed expression to a softer, reassuring one as his lips slightly upturned into a small smile.

Levi moved his bad knee up and down a few times, noting that his leg wasn't hurting too badly. It'd probably do him some good to take a break anyway.

"C'mon," Levi gestured for your son to follow as he began pushing himself off the couch. "I'll style it in the tub for you so your mother doesn't start throwing a fuss over the fact that she just swept."

"Oh shit, I forgot!" your son blurted out, covering his mouth once he realized he cursed out loud.

Levi slightly glanced at him for the verbal transgression, but otherwise didn't really care.

"Don't let her hear that."

"Mom says the same about you!" he protested.

Levi's eyebrows furrowed into a frown. "Says what about me?"

"Nothing!" your son exclaimed, which only earned him an overly suspicious look from his father.

After helping Levi step into the tub, he took a seat at the edge, with Levi sitting down on the stool that had been placed into the tub so that he wouldn't have to be on his knees as he trimmed your child's hair.

"Dad," your son eventually spoke up after a few minutes of silence as Levi got to work, "can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

"What was living in the Walls like?" he asked curiously. "When the Titans were alive? What was it like?"

Levi was quiet for a while as he tried to formulate his thoughts. The war against the Titans was certainly not one that one would want to remember or willingly bring up, but many of his comrades had fought next to him. No matter how you put it, the time before the Rumbling was a significant one that he didn't want to forget.

"...complicated," he eventually said. "We were doing a lot more than cleaning the house even on simple days."

He paused as he continued styling his hair.

"Maybe we'll take you to visit again once you're done with school this year."

After a few more minutes of quiet snips of the scissors against your son's jet black locks, Levi sighed and put the scissors down.

"All done," he announced. "Go take a look. Don't come crying to me about having to shave your head if you don't like it."

Levi watched as your son got up to run to the bathroom mirror in a mix of anxiety and excitement after Levi made his comment, his face lighting up once he saw his reflection.

If you were struggling with not getting them confused before, you were definitely going to struggle with it now.

#: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @lovedbylevi @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @deepzombieyouth @evas-leslas @lucysarah-c join my taglist! and lmk if you wanna be taken off :3

[according2thelore]

No thoughts, just mpreg dean/dean with a baby dealing with soulless sam, who suddenly has stopped caring about their child(when he couldn't shut up about how much he loved the kid before)

hi, ari!!!! my head hit the wall and i passed out. this idea is so FUN!!

my mind went immediately to three places so let's discuss them unendingly starting riiiiiiiiiiiight now!

i. dean is pregnant when sam jumps into the pit, the baby is 6+ months old when soulless!sam comes to get him

it's a miracle lisa even let him through the front door. in an omegaverse world, his mating bond has literally just fucking shattered so he's a wreck in every single sense of the word, and he's pregnant with some other alpha's baby. in a non-a/b/o world, he's literally still pregnant by some other person.

it's only through her intervention that the baby gets born at all, really. she takes him to his appointments (first contact at 28 weeks is pretty unusual, and the nurses all look at each other with raised brows), shoves prenatal vitamins down his throat, and slaps bottles of whiskey out of his hands.

it's only when she grabs him by the shoulders and says, you are going to kill sam's baby, that dean finally locks the fuck in. he insists on going to the ER at every twitch of the baby, at every morning the baby doesn't move for a few hours, every time his back hurts or his stomach cramps. this baby is the last piece of sam he will ever get, so he is not going to lose it because he's too weak to keep it.

the baby is born. when she opens her eyes, they're hazel. dean cries, and cries, and cries. he names her samantha, a tongue-in-cheek nod he hopes sam would approve of. it gives him an excuse to put sam's name in his mouth again. he barely lets baby sammy out of his sight for the first six months.

dean puts the baby down for a nap before he gets knocked out in his garage. soulless!sam forgot dean was even pregnant, so after dean collapses in his arms and kisses him stupid then freaks out and asks where the baby is, sam is like?? baby?? oh shit yeah. you give birth to it? or give it up?

now, before sam jumped into the pit, he'd lay with his head on dean's stomach for hours. dean would wake up more than once in the middle of the night to find sam yapping away to dean's baby bump. his hands would never be far from it, until dean snapped at him that it was still his damn body, hands off. sam was so crestfallen that dean let him have at it again.

sam spent his last night before the cage carving protection sigils into a thin, small metal loop. a bracelet. for when they're old enough, sam said. he loved that bump more than life itself, so when sam is so blasé, dean doesn't know what to do.

he takes sam back to meet his daughter, and sam clearly doesn't want to hold her.

"she looks like me," sam says, like he found an interesting fact in a book, and not holding a squirming infant that's trying to grab at his long hair.

dean's last straw is when sam tells him, "we can't take it with us!" when dean starts packing his and samantha's bags. dean blows up. he's been fighting tooth and nail not to put a bullet in his brain for over a year so she could be born and have a dad for the first few months of her life. "it" is their daughter, sam's daughter, and sam--who's catching onto the fact that he's going to have to pretend to care about this thing to get dean to go with him, immediately sobers.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean that. i can't--i can't. it's an adjustment. i'm...overwhelmed. but i love you both." and since they don't throw the "L" bomb around a lot, dean immediately shuts up. he probably just overreacted, right? sam didn't mean it like that. sam loves this kid.

but sam never really steps up. he changes diapers and feeds formula and buys diaper cream, but he doesn't talk to the baby. not once. he moves in efficient silence. since he doesn't sleep, dean wakes up and finds sam staring down at her in her pop-up crib like he's trying to solve a calculus problem. eyes narrowed, mouth thin. something's wrong with sam, something major, but dean doesn't know what it is.

ii. ignoring regular physiology, dean finds out he's pregnant after sam jumps into the pit, and is still pregnant when soulless!sam comes to get him.

even though this one is impossible, this one is very fun to me because sam immediately is like "😮 you let someone get you pregnant! wow! whose is it?" like they're old high school friends instead of pretty committed enmeshed weirdos.

and when dean says, "it's yours?? wtf?" sam is visibly disappointed, because he's thinking, well shit now we gotta take the damn thing with us.

for this one, sam just straight up does not care that dean is being safe or healthy. dean is expecting something--sam to insist on dean not lifting heavy shit since he's clearly about to pop, dean to eat his daily dose of nutrients, something--but sam can't be bothered.

he even suggests dean be bait a few times, because no one will suspect a pregnant person. dean is kind of agog, and feels stupid for expecting sam to fuss over and/or pamper him a little bit. dean says he has to piss because the baby is using his bladder like a speed bag, and sam insists dean hold it for a few more miles (fifty more miles, to be exact) because they're almost to their destination.

when dean's water breaks, and he waddles into the motel room from the bathroom, covered in sweat and freaking out, sam only barely looks up from his laptop. "you sure?" he asks. he goes and gets dinner in the middle of the birth, and justifies it to dean when he brings him back a wrapped ham sandwich like, "hey man you looked hungry too."

iii. the baby is born right before sam jumps into the pit, and is an actual walking/toddling one-year-old when soulless!sam comes to get him. or them, in this case.

asm doesn't sleep at all the night before the pit, instead laying on his side and letting the baby wrap his little fist around sam's finger. he watches his little chest rise and fall all night, tears in his eyes that don't fall. he holds little john until the last possible second, until castiel passes him his first gallon jug of demon blood. he kisses his little head, wispy with barely-there brown hair, and gently hands him to bobby like he's the most fragile thing in the entire world.

bobby's the godfather (and gets the middle name, robert), and castiel is the godmother. when dean gave him the title with a snort, castiel didn't get why it was funny. is it because i have a penis? he asked. i am the closest thing to a godmother that exists in this state. the next angel is three states over.

sam tells dean before he starts drinking that his first word better be 'daddy,' or he'll haunt his ass. dean doesn't even crack a smile, and says "yeah," unblinking.

sam jumps, and dean doesn't know it, but one of the things he sees before he does is dean passed out on a motel bed, baby john sleeping on his chest, both of them dappled in light from the slatted windows.

dean goes to lisa, hollow-eyed and empty, a baby in his arms, who cries and cries and cries and cries and cries, because the one person that can calm him down in the middle of the night is being ripped apart for eternity at this exact moment.

ben adores the baby. he picks him up and takes to being a big brother like a duck to water. when the baby starts saying "ba," ben insists john's saying his name.

sam comes to get him. he asks if they can leave the baby with lisa. dean thinks he's being protective, but considering dean spent a few months literally sleeping on the floor in front of the baby's crib because he'd panic if he couldn't hear him breathing immediately shuts it down. john was his tie to sanity. not happening.

john, despite only being a month or two old when sam jumped, immediately becomes obsessed with him again. he picks up sam's fingers to chew on them. he won't go to bed until sam talks to him, low and quiet. sam hates it.

sam goes on a solo hunt for a few days and comes back to dean sleeping with john in the impala because they got kicked out of the motel for the noise complaint of baby john crying himself to sleep the entire time sam was gone. i can't be expected to handcuff us together, can i? sam asks, genuinely baffled.

dean feels like he's nineteen again, having to play referee between dad and sam constantly butting heads. except it's sam and his child that wants to be picked up by daddy.

when they drop john off at bobby's for the night, dean can see sam actually exhale in relief as they leave his house in the rearview. it sits in his stomach like rot.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK OH MY GODDDDDDDDD i had SO MUCH FUN THINKING ABOUT IT AHHHH

-lizzy

[moonlightwriter]

Bullies Begone

[Content warnings]: Mentions of transphobia, bullying, slight physical violence.

[Paring]: Katsuki Bakugou x Male Transgender Reader.

[Summary]: The bullying, the notes, the insults, they never end. You hated it, it upset you that no one could accept you for you. But at least, you had him by your side.

[Word count]: 830 words

[Credits to]: @cafekitsune for the divider!

It was the same routine, every single day. Having to pass the halls was hell if it meant seeing their faces or having to open your locker to see the notes they wrote. Either it be ones on paper or permanently inked on the inside of the locker.

‘Freak’

’Go to hell’

’Stick to your original pronouns, weirdo’

’Your parents probably hate you’

You’ve heard them all before, and yet they still bring you down. Just this morning, when you had to get your books out for Present Mics’s class, the words ‘What a freak!’ just had to be written on the inside of the locker door. You rolled your eyes and grabbed what you needed before heading to class. Luckily, you were placed in 1-A instead of 1-B where the asshats were. Though it was sad knowing you had to deal with them later throughout the day.

A sigh escaped you once you made it to 1-A and entered. “Morning, [Name]!” “Mornin’, Kirishima!” You headed over to your seat, which was behind the shark-teethed redhead, and chatted for a bit. There were only a few students in the room before the others started to file in. You noticed the familiar spiky-haired male walk in and ran towards him, jumping on his back and covering his eyes. “GET OFF, HELL SPAWN!” He regained his balance quickly and tried to shove you off. There was no use, your grip was like iron.

“That’s not my name Katsuki, and no.” He let out an annoyed sigh and clicked his tongue. “Get off,[Name].” “Thank you.” You hopped off and kissed his cheek. “Dumbass.” “I’m your dumbass.” He rolled his eyes, a small smile made it to his lips. He gave a small peck on yours and headed to his seat right when Present Mic entered, yelling out “GOOOOOOOD MORNING, 1-A!” You quickly went to your desk, ignoring how red your face was.

Soon class began and the day went on, though what would come after it was going to be a pain in the ass.

—

Your tail swayed lazily in the air as you finished your notes and packed up. Everyone had already headed back to their dorms or left for training so the room was basically empty except for you. You left, heading down the hall and exiting the school building to the dormitory. It was quiet and peaceful- “Well, if it isn’t transy!” Nevermind. You silently groaned and just kept walking, Ignoring them.

The two 1-B boys ran up to you, one of them pushing you to the ground rather harshly. “Hey! The fuck is wrong with you guys?!” You tried to get up, but you were met with a hard kick to the face. “Aw, is trans boy getting angry?” The other boy laughed, “Looks like it.” You rolled your eyes, they were just some transphobic idiots who only had shit for brains. “If we’re done here, I’ll be leaving. Your dorms are over there if you guys can’t remember.”

You spat out the bit of blood that was in your mouth before getting up, though when you tried to turn to leave, your body stood stiff. Apparently, one of them used their quirk on you. Damnit. “Leave me alone!” “Shut up, dipshit!” Just as the other was readying to use his quirk, he was knocked to the ground. The ash blonde male stood towering over him, hands giving out small explosions. “If you both don’t wanna die, I suggest leaving.” He grabbed the other guy’s collar, finally freeing you from his hold. “Got it?” He hissed, glaring at the both of them.

The two of them nodded their heads quickly, causing Bakugou to throw the other guy to the ground. “Now beat it!” They quickly got up and ran away to their dormitory. You smiled gratefully, hugging him. He sighed and hugged back, wrapping his arms around you. “They didn’t hurt you, right dumbass?” “No, just a kick to the face is all. I’m okay.” He gently touched the red mark, giving a hum in response. “Better not be lying.” You shook your head, leaning into his touch just a little. It still stung a bit. He pulled his hand away and began to drag you back to the dorms while holding yours. “We’re going to my dorm, I’ll get you some ice and then we can watch a movie or something.”

You smiled and compiled, allowing him to drag you by the hand back. “Thank you, Kats.” “No problem, hell spawn.” Soon, you both got to the 1-A dormitory and headed inside. Bakugou got the ice and gave it to you to place it on your now slightly swollen cheek before heading to his dorm. Let’s just say, he held you close once you both fell asleep.

Yeah, Katsuki might be hot headed, explosive, egotistical, angry, and mean. But he sure as well won’t let anyone hurt you. After all, you mean a lot to him.

Property of @moonlightwriter; please don’t steal, translate, or plagiarize any of my work. This story, along with others, belong to this blog. Re-blogs are appreciated though! (=^ ◡ ^=)

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Writing prompt (It’s silly)

- They sit down and TALK (while cuddling maybe). Stede explains what happened that night, and Ed explains what happened that day (was it at daytime? I don’t remember. But it’s izzy’s confrontation. That turned depressed ed into Kraken (and also depressed) ed )

““You don’t have to tell me or anything- I just- I’d just like to know what happened. The night you…”

Abandoned me was left unsaid”

They thank each other for being sincere at the end, ed feeling particularly guilty for leaving the crew at an island and throwing Lucius overboard.

I just want them to sort it out, to know the full story. Stede to tell ed he ended up faking his own dead in the most dramatic way possible to be back with him. And Ed to tell stede how it was when he first went back to the revenge, just curled up on bed and crying

I love heavy dialogue fanfics, sue me

LOVED this one! It wound up being one of my personal favorite fics I wrote for my birthday! <3

“Was it the kiss?”

Stede paused, his fingers stilling in Ed’s hair. He might’ve been close to drifting off, before Ed had to open his mouth. “Hm?”

Ed had to take a moment, push down the urge to leave this conversation for an easier time. They were trying to get past that. Talk it through as a crew of two, Stede was saying. And Ed had been thinking about this all fucking day, ever since Stede woke him up with a smiling kiss.

“I, uh,” he said, humming softly when Stede’s fingers started right back up in his hair. They’d taken to going to bed a full hour early, lately, just so they could cuddle and chat, and Ed never felt safer than he did just like this, his head pillowed on Stede’s chest. They could talk. He would be okay. “I was just wondering. Y’know, that day. Was it the kiss that made you panic?”

“Ah,” Stede said softly. “No. No, Ed, I promise it wasn’t the kiss. I loved the kiss.”

“Okay,” Ed mumbled.

Stede offered no further elaboration, instead moving his hand down to scritch lightly through Ed’s beard in a very obvious ploy to distract him. That could be the hard part about talking it through as a crew of two. Stede was a slippery motherfucker.

Tough luck. Ed could multitask.

He nuzzled into Stede’s hand, eyes closing at the feeling of Stede’s fingers in his beard. “You don’t have to tell me or anything. I just - I’d just like to know what happened. The night you…”

He trailed off. Hadn’t quite thought through where that sentence was going to go, distracted by Stede’s lovely fingers lovingly brushing along his jaw, and the last part, the abandoned me, hung heavy in the air.

“Because, like,” Ed went on, desperate to fill the silence, “if it was something I did, then I’m kinda scared I might repeat it -”

That was it. Fuckin’ bulls-eye. Getting Stede to open up could be like pulling teeth, but if he realized that his silence was making Ed suffer…

“No,” Stede gasped, reaching his other hand away to land on Ed’s side. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and like this, Stede’s hand always rested protectively over the cluster of scars on his tummy. “No, Ed, sweetheart, you didn’t do anything.”

Ed hummed softly, invitingly.

“I don’t want to make excuses,” Stede whispered, his eyes wide in the dark of their bedroom.

“No excuses, but I just want an explanation,” Ed said.

“Well…” Stede let his head flop back against the pillows. “Honestly, Ed, if I’d been woken up, I probably would’ve been there, but -”

“Wait, back up,” Ed said, resting his hand over Stede’s on his tummy. “If you’d been woken up? What do you mean if? I had a guy -”

Stede let his eyes close, like he didn’t want to watch Ed’s face. “That guy never woke me up, Ed,” he admitted, his voice a near-whisper. “It was Badminton -”

“The admiral?” Ed frowned. “What would he - shit, Stede, did he hurt you?”

Stede grimaced.

Ed sat bolt upright in bed, looking down at Stede in shock. “Did he -”

“It’s alright, sweet pea.” Stede sat up, too, taking Ed’s hand, putting it on his chest so he could feel his heartbeat. “Think he was a little pissed. About the whole thing with me killing his brother. He was so worked up, marched me out there at gunpoint -”

“What the shit,” Ed whispered.

“It’s okay,” Stede hurried to say, “because he tripped. Shot himself right in the eye. He was really drunk.”

“Stede, holy fucking shit,” Ed whispered, bringing his hands up to cup Stede’s face, just feel for himself that he was alright. “That’s fucking - shit! You could’ve died!”

Stede frowned, like he was digesting that.

“Oh my God, Ed,” he near-shouted, then. “I could’ve died!”

“Are you just now realizing that?”

“It’s the first time it’s really - fucking sunk in, thanks,” Stede snipped, shaking his head at the cieling. “Holy shit, I almost missed out on…all of this!”

Ed rubbed Stede’s back, trying to help ground him. Thankfully, Stede seemed a bit pissed more than truly rattled, and just mumbled about how Badminton really should’ve been kicked off the base acting like that before he was able to get to him, and…

Was Ed happy that Stede had been held at gunpoint? No. Fuck no. He wished he could bring Badminton back from the dead so he could shoot him personally. But…it was nice to know the context. He didn’t think he’d ever actually been angry with Stede, but it was still easier to swallow the whole thing knowing that Stede had been through something that would’ve made anyone panic.

It meant that it hadn’t been Ed’s fault.

Which led him directly to - 

“Hey, Stede,” Ed realized, shaking Stede’s shoulder. “Do you think what happened with me was your fault?”

Stede paused in the middle of his tirade about poor guard management at the barracks (“really, there was no reason he should’ve been able to march out a registered academy member at gunpoint without us being stopped by some authority”), and he blinked at Ed a bit blankly. “Uh,” he said, “yes?”

“Alright, that’s what I was afraid of.” Ed squirmed a bit. “Can you hold me for this?”

They repositioned, moving Ed between Stede’s legs so he could lay with Stede’s arms around his back and his head resting on Stede’s wonderful soft tits. The world was better from this vantage point.

“You really don’t have to get into any of it,” Stede told him, resting a hand on Ed’s cheek.

Ed nuzzled into his palm. “I want to,” he said, a bit surprised by how much he meant it. “You don’t deserve to think it was your fault. Just like…”

“Just like how you didn’t deserve to think me not showing up was your fault,” Stede finished with a smile, encouraging.

Ed took a deep breath.

“So,” he began, haltingly, “you know what happened when I got back to the ship?”

Stede frowned. “You pushed Lucius?”

Ed let out a little frustrated huff of a breath. “No, man. I mean, I was upset, but I was okay. I cried a lot, made a blanket fort. Slept in your robes because they smelled like you. I wrote some lyrics. I sang for the crew. I was feeling so much better. I thought they were gonna support me, in not wanting to be pirates anymore.”

Stede’s frown was deepening, a confused line popping out between his eyebrows.

“It’s not an excuse,” Ed hurried to say. “But Izzy, y’know, I said I wanted everyone to call me Edward, and then Izzy came in and told me he should’ve let the English kill me, and he said death was better than how I was acting, and he yelled at me until I tried to choke him - just to get him to stop, I swear - and then he said that was me, the violence was me, and he told me I better watch my fuckin’ step.”

He was rambling, a bit, because Stede had gotten very still and very quiet.

“Stede?” Ed prompted, nudging him a little.

“You’re telling me,” Stede said, his voice quivering with an anger Ed was a bit thrilled to realize wasn’t directed at him, “that he did that and I mourned his death? I let everyone blame you for what happened with his leg? Fuck, Ed, I would've shot him in both legs my fucking self, if I'd known! I just let him walk around my ship and -”

“Hey, hey, babe!” Ed rested his chin on Stede’s chest. “It’s okay, he got better -”

“Holy shit.” Stede dragged a hand over his eyes. “You had to interact with him - he came into our bedroom and opened the curtains on us in bed, after he did that to you.”

Ed frowned. “That’s - it’s okay, he was just being Izzy.”

“It’s not okay!” Stede shook his head emphatically. “You must’ve felt so unsafe -”

“I didn’t,” Ed promised. “I didn’t, because you were there.”

Stede let his breath out, long and slow.

“It doesn’t excuse what I did,” Ed mumbled, deciding to play with Stede’s chest hair instead of meet his eyes any longer. “And I feel awful for the crew. I shouldn’t have pushed Lucius. It wasn’t right, to take it out on them.”

Stede, apparently, had not moved on. “If I were you, I would've eaten his toes myself, just to really drive home the point.”

Ed snorted. “Babe.”

“I’m serious, Ed.” Stede held Ed’s face, making him meet his eyes. “Be sorry for the crew all you want. They’re okay. But you did not deserve that - do you think Buttons can bring people back from the dead? I’d like to have a word with someone.”

“Stede.” Ed let his body relax, curling around Stede’s. “Y’know, I wasn’t planning on giving you visions of bloodlust.”

Stede huffed. “You deserve the bloodlust.”

That was an idea, that Ed was worthy of the protection. Ed tabled it for later.

“Anyway,” he said, forging bravely ahead, “the point was - it wasn’t your fault.”

Stede blinked. Looked at him. Blinked again. 

“Oh,” he said, then. “I mean, it didn’t help -”

“Did not help, no.”

“But it wasn’t…” Stede nodded. “It wasn’t all me.”

“Wasn’t primarily you. Wouldn’t have happened at all if it had been just you.”

“Huh,” Stede said. “That’s…good to know.”

It was. It was good to know that it hadn’t been Ed’s fault, for Stede to know that it hadn’t been his.

“Life’s a dick,” Ed shrugged, figuring that was really the best way to sum it all up. “Hey, uh, if you don’t mind me asking - how did you leave Barbados? If you went back to your wife?”

“Oh!” Stede cuddled Ed close, his face breaking out into a smile. “Ed, you would’ve loved it! It was amazing - so, it all started when my ex-wife tried to stab me in the earhole with a skewer…”

Ed laughed and gasped through Stede’s story, and something in him felt quiet, for the first time in a long time. He still thought he had more amends to make. He still felt awful for the crew. But the whole world felt lighter.

Ed snuggled close to his boyfriend, and the world felt easy.

[itsawhumpsideblog]

BBU Community Days 2024, Day 3

April 16 / Writing Prompt: "RULES" / Write a BBU story based on the one-word-prompt and share it!

CW: for institutionalized slavery, emotional abuse, manipulation, drunkenness and drunk antics, a lot more swearing than normal, burning with cigarettes, forced to self-injure

"Shit, why didn't we invest in one of these earlier?" The speaker was a tall man in wrinkled slacks and a polo who looked like he was probably a good shot. There was no gun in evidence, unless you looked behind the counter of his establishment, but it didn't need to be visible for his customers to know that crossing him would be a bad idea.

"Cause they're fucking expensive," his bookkeeper replied, in the weary tones of someone who had explained this before. "We had to start coming out in the black consistently before we could afford the expense. You know that."

"Yeah, yeah. I know." The first man looked down at their new acquisition, kneeling on the floor next to the counter, looking down at his lap and wringing his hands. "Hey, uh- you- uh-" he looked back up at his colleague. "Hey, Ed, what do we call him?"

"His serial number is GU2938." Ed was engrossed in whatever he was doing on a laptop and didn't even look up.

"Nah, that's a mouthful. I'll just call him Pet, that's easy enough. Hey, Pet, there's some food there in that bowl for you. Take five and eat up, but be quick. We're gonna have customers in here in a few hours and we gotta clean and everything."

"Yes, Master," GU2938 replied, as he had been trained to, and scurried over to the bowl. It was full of scraps, probably the remnants of food humans had ordered but not finished. Sometimes people were so busy gambling or getting drunk that they forgot they had a meal in front of them. One of the first things GU2938 had learned was that people on a binge of any kind- betting or drinking or drugs- were unpredictable and did not always act according to logic that he could discern.

Once he had finished eating, GU2938 went back to the counter and crouched next to it, rubbing his knuckles and bent over to ease a bruise on his right side. The previous night, his first in the bar, had been an education, to say the least. It was his third day with his Master, but he had arrived mid-week and the bar was quieter on a Thursday night. Master had said that was best, since it gave him an evening to observe and learn his job.

GU2938 had been purchased to serve as a bouncer for the drinking-and-gambling establishment his Master owned, a dimly lit and slightly greasy place that was accessed by knowing which alley it was in and which stairs to go down to find the door. People did not come here for a quiet night out and GU2938's job was to get them out of the bar when Master determined that they were too drunk or high or broke to give him any more of their money.

Thursday had been quiet, with only a handful of regulars who hadn't left the Pet alone, but hadn't exactly hurt him, either. They only wanted to play with him, ordering him around just to watch him follow their commands. They had ordered him to bring their drinks from the bar, poured condiments on the table just so he would have to clean it up, and made him lick ketchup off the floor. When they lit a match, Master intervened.

"Hey!" he barked, so loudly that GU2938 jumped, although the regulars did not. "You were having your fun- fine. But you don't damage my property. I bought that to do work, not keep you entertained. That's what the races are for." He scowled at the men and waved GU2938 back to his corner beside the bar.

Friday had been very different, in a way. There was more work to do, or at least, more of the kind of work Master had in mind. GU2938 broke up a fight over poker and had to throw out a man who had gotten so drunk he forgot where- or possibly what- the toilet was. Then GU2938 had to clean up after the man, which might have been even worse than hauling him to the door.

When Master turned the lights off, locked the door, and left at almost 4 in the morning, GU2938 finally sat down and hoped he could fall asleep. It was hard to do, just like it had been hard the previous night. The floor felt very flat and a little sticky, and the small, barred windows didn't admit any light beyond a neon glow from some other business across the alley. Through the thin wall, he could hear the sounds of cars outside and the occasional siren and the strange noises frightened him.

GU2938 squeezed himself as far under the bar as he could manage. He was tall and broad-shouldered and the training at the facility had focused on building his muscles so that he would be marketable as a guard dog. He had learned a lot during his training- how to throw a punch and, more importantly, how to take one; how to dart past an opponent and use their own body weight to throw them; even where to put his hands to make someone pass out, permanently if the order was given. But the main thing he had learned was that he hated to fight.

He could fight, it turned out, and well. He was big enough to hit hard when he was ordered to do it and he was surprisingly fast for someone his size. He was perfectly compliant in the gym and ate the diet he was given, perfect for building muscle and laced with steroids that the WRU left off the guard dogs' medical records when they were sold.

But every time a fight ended, GU2938 would pause, look at his opponent, and break down in tears. And every time, the guards would make fun of him, order him to stop crying and, when he couldn't, beat him until he was too stunned to react any more. Then they would take him back to his cell where his wits would slowly return to him. He lay on the floor every night, seeing the face of the Pets he had fought in his mind's eye. He worried about them until he saw them again and could reassure himself that they were still breathing, even if they were damaged. His own injuries, even when they were severe, were less painful than the knowledge that he had hurt someone else.

Under the bar, GU2938 thought of the other Pets and closed his eyes against the mental images that formed the only memories he had. He began to rock back and forth, as if trying to shake the pictures away, and then found that the swaying reminded him of the last time he felt safe. It had been in the box on the truck between the facility and the bar. In that box, nobody was there to hurt or frighten him and he knew he would be left alone as long as the truck kept on swaying down the road. GU2938 tried to pretend that he was back there in the box on the truck and eventually he fell asleep.

He was woken late in the day by his Master opening the door and turning on the lights. GU2938 jumped up and stood with his head bowed at respectful attention as his Master crossed the room to the bar and set down a box.

"Got you something," he said. "Come here." Master opened the box and drew out a thick black collar with a small box attached to it. When GU2938 came over, Master reached up and fastened it around his neck. "That's a shock collar. I got the remote right here, see? I don't want to have to use it, but if you leave here or you disobey me, I can and I will. Understood?"

"Yes, Master." They were the only words GU2938 had uttered in recent memory and he heard his own voice so seldom that he was almost surprised by the sound of it, soft and deep and uncertain.

"Good. Now fill the cooler and get the floor mopped." Master went off to his own tasks in the back office.

GU2938 hated the feeling of the collar. It wasn't actually too tight, but it felt like it was and it made him cringe whenever he turned his head and felt the material rubbing against the front of his throat. He tried not to turn his head much, but it was difficult to remember not to move naturally. Even worse, he had no idea what Master's idea of disobedience was. GU2938 was trying his hardest to be a good Pet, but he was very afraid that Master would disagree.

As the weeks passed, GU2938 became more accustomed to the rhythm of life in the bar. He found that sleeping sitting up and leaned against the inside of the bar was more comfortable than trying to stretch out on the floor, especially with the collar snug around his throat. He also slept with one hand inside the collar, holding it away from his windpipe. Master fed him at least once a day from anything left in the kitchen before closing time and Ed, the bookkeeper, even gave him permission to eat scraps off of customers' plates when he did the dishes. He was hungry, but on most days not painfully so.

Only dealing with the customers never got easier. When Master ordered it, he had to throw them out of the bar sometimes, but Master also let the customers order him around when they wanted something. Occasionally, they played a game with him where they made a rule he had to follow for however long they said.

They seemed to play this game about once a week and GU2938 dreaded it. The first time they played, the rule had been that he had to do a somersault whenever one of them clapped. After he had rolled across the dirty floor a few times, one of the customers got it into his head to start applauding, making the Pet roll over and over around the bar until his back ached from contact with the hard floor.

The next time, he had to serve them with his eyes shut until they said he could look. The bartender played along and even Master laughed when someone put a chair in front of him to trip him when he brought a table their bill. The Pet went sprawling, afraid to open his eyes even to catch himself, and landed hard on his wrists. Without looking, he picked himself up very carefully and felt his way to the nearest table.

"Wrong one," someone said, when he tried to give them the little plastic tray with the paper and pen on it. There was a roar of laughter as he felt his way from table to table, each of them refusing the bill, until he was touching the back wall.

There were no tables left and he found himself shaking and afraid, because he didn't know what to do next. Should he ask again? But then Master would think he was questioning the honest of Master's customers and he wouldn't like that.

"Give it here," said Master's voice. "And go back to the front."

Still with his eyes squeezed shut, GU2938 went. Master must have delivered the check and the game continued, with GU2938 delivering food and drinks in between orders from the customers to go find the pinball machine or tie a customer's shoes.

The game came to an abrupt end when GU2938 slammed into the pool table and spilled an entire tray of beers all over himself and the floor.

"Open your fucking eyes and clean up that mess," Master snapped. GU2938 blinked in the light as he opened his eyes for the first time in hours and beheld the immense mess in front of him. Entirely without meaning to, he began to cry and almost immediately there was a sharp stinging feeling at his neck that made his whole body tense up. It only lasted a second, but when it ended, the spot on his neck under the little box didn't feel right and he ached horribly.

"Enough," his Master said in an angry voice. "I don't want to see any of that bullshit. Just clean. it. up."

"Yes, Master."

That first use of the collar marked a terrible turning point in GU2938's life. Now that the bar regulars knew he could be shocked, and knew one thing that would make Master do it, it seemed to become their goal to make Master shock GU2938.

In addition to the Rules game, they began betting on how long it would take them each night to make him cry. In between watching races or poker on tv, they pinched him as he passed or kicked his ankles or kneed him when Master wasn't looking.

If he had seen in, GU2938 supposed, Master would have stopped them, if only to protect his investment. The night one man pressed a lit cigarette to the Pet's arm, Master yelled at him and made GU2938 throw him out- but he had already been shocked and the man had won his bet. Every night GU2938 did his best not to cry, from either pain or fear, but they managed to find his breaking point all the same.

When they left and GU2938 had done his cleaning and eaten a bowl of leftover scraps, he would wedge his aching body and all its bruises under the counter and think about a quiet, dark box in a quiet, dark truck and rock himself back and forth until he could calm his adrenaline enough to sleep.

Things reached a crisis point the night the TV set broke. It might have had something to do with the bottle a very drunk customer had thrown at it earlier in the week, or it might simply have been a very old set. But whatever the cause, it broke in the middle of a race and the customers had been very invested in watching cars circle a track.

"Fuck," Master swore, and emptied the contents of his pockets onto the bar until he found his phone. He smashed the buttons and yelled into it, already sounding angry. "My fucking TV just died." There was an indistinct voice from the other end, and then Master said, "So what? The race was on and the TV just died, just like that." Pause. "Yeah, I know." Pause. "Well, I think we probably need another one, dumbass." Pause. "What the fuck?" Master sighed. "I'll be back when I sort this out," he announced to nobody in particular and stormed outside, still swearing at whoever was on the phone.

GU2938 was already nervous to be left alone with the customers, but when he saw that Master had left the remote to his collar on the bar, he thought he might be sick. He wondered for a split second if he could hide it until Master got back. Even if Master shocked him for it, it would still be better than whatever the customers might do.

He wasn't fast enough. One of them saw it and grabbed it out of the pile of loose change and crumpled receipts.

"Hey," he called to the other men, "Look what I got!" This was greeted with a round of drunk cheers that made GU2938 feel sick.

"Okay," said the man holding the remote. "First rule, umm... you have to walk around with your eyes crossed. Now go to the pool table and see if you can hit anything."

GU2938 did as he was told. He made it to the pool table and tried to pick up a cue, but he was so concentrated on the pool balls that he forgot there was a second condition.

"He's looking at them," someone called and instantly there a shock ran through him, making his muscles seize.

"No good," called the man with the remote. "Next rule? Anyone?"

"Make him eat gum off the bottom of the tables," someone suggested, to laughter. There was plenty of gum on the undersides of the tables and the chairs, too, as GU2938 well knew. As instructed, he scraped some off and put it in his mouth, but when he gagged, they shocked him again.

Then they had him carry a plate on his head and shocked him when it fell off. He had to turn a cartwheel and was shocked when he couldn't. With every broken rule, the shocks seemed to last longer and he was sure they were turning up the intensity. He couldn't help himself and screamed with each wave of electricity that shot through his body.

Prank call the emergency phone number.

Stand over here and piss into the potted plant.

Use this lit cigarette to draw a smiley face on your palm.

Stand under the target while we play darts.

Punch yourself in the face. No, harder. Right in the nose. Not like that.

Every time, they shocked him and with every shock, GU2938 felt his body grow weaker and felt his mind grow more afraid. His heart didn't feel right anymore, as if it skipped a beat when the shock came, and his legs could barely hold him.

At last, they got what they really wanted and he began to cry. Not just a few tears, like most nights, when GU2938 could keep himself mostly under control and the shocks from Master would be brief and comparatively light. Now, it was as if floodgates had opened and he sobbed from somewhere deep inside himself, the tears pouring down his aching face. He could feel a ball of grief deep in his stomach and he leaned against the bar and covered his face with his hands, as if they hadn't already seen.

"Uh-uh," the man with the remote crowed. "You're not allowed to do that. Your Master said you weren't. Didn't they train you better?"

GU2938 was sobbing too hard to answer or even to begin to collect himself.

"Guess not," the man said. He was looking out into the bar, talking to the other customers now, as if he was onstage speaking to an audience. "I guess we better help you out, get you properly trained. What do you think, boys?"

There was a cheer and to a background of applause, GU2938 felt the shock in what might have been slow motion. He could hear himself screaming at the top of his lungs as the man with the remote adjusted the intensity for maximum effect.

There was the feeling of a burning ring around GU2938's neck and he fell full-length onto the floor as his body tensed up. It was like an induced seizure and he felt his limbs shaking, his joints striking the tile. His teeth were grinding together and his eyes rolled in his head and then even the screaming stopped because he couldn't get a breath and his throat felt like it was on fire.

It only stopped because Master came in and shouted, "What the fuck do you think you're doing? I paid good money for that and you motherfuckers are just ruining it for fun." He kept on in that vein for some time, but GU2938 heard none of it. Consciousness ebbed and flowed and eventually someone dragged him behind the bar and left him there, supine and weeping, for the rest of the night.

The last thing that happened was Master shoving a bowl of scraps towards him. "You got the night off," Master said, "But I expect you to work double tomorrow to make it up."

"Yes, Master," GU2938 tried to say.

His blood ran cold. He hadn't made a noise- Master had spoken to him and he had answered but no noise had come out. GU2938 grabbed frantically at his throat, trying to pull the collar away. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, but there was nothing to hear.

Years later...

They were the first ones to arrive, which meant that Mikey had time to get the podium set up where he wanted it while Angie, Tim, and Nathan unfolded metal chairs into straight rows. Francis parked his wheelchair at the back of the room and got his crutches situated comfortably, pulling the sleeves of his flannel down smooth under the cuffs around his forearms.

"Are you ready?" Francis asked Mikey as they took their places at the front of the room.

Mikey shrugged. "I think so," he signed and Francis grinned.

"You'll be fine, I know you will. We'll do it just like we practiced at home."

"You're right, I know. But either nobody's going to show up or too many people are."

"Either way. Just like we practiced."

Mikey nodded and they watched the door as it opened to admit a stream of people. The local meetings of the Pet Liberation Movement were invitation-only to ensure that everyone in the room could be trusted; it looked like tonight everyone who was welcome had chosen to show up.

By 7:00, the library's conference room was standing room only and there was a low buzz of chatter as the attendees waited for the program to begin. Mikey focused on the front row, where Angie gave him an encouraging smile and a subtle thumbs-up. Nathan made a silent but enthusiastic cheering motion and Tim gave him two thumbs up, grinning broadly. Mikey blushed and laughed, but he felt better.

When the door had stayed closed for several minutes, suggesting that nobody else was coming, Mikey looked over at Francis, who nodded that he was ready to begin. Mikey raised his hands for quiet and the talk slowly died away as people noticed the gesture.

With a nervous deep breath, Mikey began to sign as Francis interpreted for him.

"Good evening. My name is Mikey and even though I'm using Sign Language, I'm not deaf- I'm mute. I lost my voice permanently because a shock collar was used on me when I was being kept as a Pet. My friend and fellow rescued Pet, Francis, and I are going to talk to you tonight about our experiences as victims of the Pet trade."

Master List

Notes: The end sort of just came to me, but I'm in love with the idea of Mikey becoming an activist. Also- is Mikey actually Ferdinand the Bull? Discuss.

Tag list: @pigeonwhumps, @cepheusgalaxy, @i-eat-worlds, @honeycollectswhump @taterswhump, @starfields08000 @whumpsday, @fruitypinapple00, @currentlyinthesprial

[cat-astro-pick]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟒

𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝐸𝑧𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟎

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟏

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟐

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟑

"Why are you so dismissive?"

"Of what?"

"...Of me."

"I've been busy working on new stuff. Well, cause it's a new genre I'm trying out and I-."

"You know, you're a big talker when you lie."

I'd never heard his voice so low. In fact, I'd never thought of him as capable of such an intimidating voice in the first place. I'd always assumed Ezreal's vocal cords would only produce beautiful voices, but…apparently not.

I sucked in a breath, not wanting to sound pathetic. I let it out slowly, not wanting it to look like a sigh, and Ezreal's eyebrows twitched. It's always like this. He caught the part I didn't want to be caught, too fast, and then he comforted me. Comfort that I didn't ask for. If it were simply hypocrisy, it wouldn't bother me so much. The reason I'm bothered, yes, is because Ezreal is such an innocent, nice guy ever. I've never seen him this mad before. Not recently, not even before. The anger he was feeling today was purely my fault, and I couldn't be grumpy or irritable with him. Guilt pierced through my heart like a sledgehammer. Even the act of putting my hands in my pockets felt unnatural because I knew better than anyone else that, it was my fault. If it were dramatic, this is where I should have dropped to my knees, but an unknown emotion squeezed the words out of my mouth. It molded the words, forcing them out of my throat.

"...What if I tell you now that I don't remember?"

"What?"

A series of brief memories haunt me. When they started, I don't know. A tone of frustration, denser than embarrassment and irritation, pierces my ears. I hid under the shadows created by cap like a frightened kitten. I was the one who spoke the unforgivable words, and I was the one who ran away in fear. Yeah, I'm that kind of human being, that's what I'm made of. I was unreasonably frightened, but I'm sure Ezreal didn't mean to scare me. If he wanted me to be scared and beg for forgiveness, he wouldn't have made that stupid face. I did something wrong, I deserved to be reprimanded, but it was Ezreal who was acting like a sinner. Simply because I, scared him.

"I don't remember. I don't even know what I said to you."

"..."

"If you want me to be a little more brazen, I don't understand why you've been obsessing over what I said for days, when I was probably drunk and out of it anyway."

"...Enough."

Hell is a fitting place for me to end up. It's better to throw yourself down the stairs to the other side without thinking twice about the ambiguity of heaven or hell, and it's the same with relationships. Even in this one-sided love relationship, I can't be honest anymore. That I crave more than attention from you, that those are the real, deep feelings we've been screaming about since we were kids, and that those simple four-letter words keep hurting me. So, prove it to me. Cause when I realize you don't care about me in the slightest, I'm going to want to die. Prove to me how you feel about me, how far you'll take my immature rants, and if you even care about me. If you don't, then we're done.

My brain felt like it was in two pieces. Egos fighting. I am pushing myself and pushing Ezreal at the same time, to the point where there is no consensus. If someone asks me where and how our relationship went wrong, I don't know what to say. I can't even remember when I started falling for him.

"What the hell did I say to you that made you so mad that Kayn is talking shit to me? Nah, I don't understand why you're mad in the first place!"

No, he's not even angry, he's just hurt. This is not even in my mind.

"What did you come all the way to the studio for? What did you say to them?"

He used to come by often, just like I used to. She probably didn't say anything, because I'd embarrass her.

"'You're-'"

"I said enough!"

The sharp voice cut between us, but nothing else existed but silence. I wish he'd slap me, but when I glance down, all I see is a tightly clenched fist. I know he's not the kind of man to swing a fist. And it's not that I'm a masochist who's desperate to hit him, it's just that his knuckles are so pitifully red and white from clenching so hard.

"..."

He's crying. His eyes, which should be sparkling and shining under the spotlight on the stage, are wet with tears, not starry lights. In the end, it was me who was stupid from start to finish. I prided myself on being able to read other people's moods with ease, but this time, I missed it. I couldn't tell if the heavens were punishing me for my arrogance, or if I was just as dumb as a moth to a flame when it came to Ezreal. In the first place, Ezreal's emotion wasn't anger. It was frustration, fear, and finally impatience. He's not the kind of person to cry tears of anger.

I wonder why I didn't realize that.

“Ez…”

" Do I really make you miserable?"

"...What?"

"You said I'm the reason you're tired to death every day."

"...What are you talking about..."

A cold sweat trickled down my spine. I'd assumed the worst, but there was worse waiting for me than I'd ever imagined. Ezreal couldn't have been thinking this on his own. He's not that pessimistic.

"If you really think I'm to blame for your misfortune."

No. It's not like that. I tried to say something, but the words were stuck in my throat and felt like they were being strangled. I felt like I was slowly suffocating. Like sand being sucked out of the middle of a desert, I was slowly being eaten away.

"Then it would be more helpful if I left you."

His loosely tied hair whipped in the wind. I stare at the distant, distant back of his head, and it feels like the end of the world. It was only after my already weary hand gripped his arm that I realized that tears from the bitter wind were wetting my cheeks. I was a sinner, and I shed many tears for nought. I became impatient. And soon I felt tempted to scream, frustrating. It seemed to me that despair had taken hold of me to the end and would not let go. Many days and nights passed, many of which were ordinary days where I didn't care what happened. And, yes, honestly, I wanted to tell myself that Ezreal was making my life miserable, even though I knew it wasn't him that was making me miserable, it was my feelings for him.

"I'm not miserable because of you."

A sense of unreality envelops my toes. It wasn't the coziness of a lazy daydream. Each delicate feature of his face in my vision crumbled into shards. The shards ran down my cheeks, dangling precariously from the tip of my chin, before falling to the floor and becoming jewelry for ants.

"I mistook you for misfortune, because I... have a crush on you."

Yes, this is penance. And, confession.

.

.

.

[rocketnottheraccon]

A ShinBaku one shot I wrote bc this random ass crack ship happens to give me life

Art by: Horikoshi

Let’s get one thing straight.

Hitoshi Shinsou was not.

But he also adored Mitsuki.

So, you can probably imagine his favorite song to listen to when his life went to shit.

“Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart~” He mindlessly sang, spinning around in Aizawa’s office chair at… say… 4:30 in the morning?

He was currently running on 16 cans of Monster energy, 17 now, 3 bowls of cereal, and this week's dose of testosterone. He could take on the world- better yet: end the world!

“YES!” He shouted to himself, still spinning aimlessly. He would take over the world! Reinstate quirk management laws, maybe just get rid of heroes all together! That way he wouldn’t have to deal with this shit-show known as the hero course.

On second thought, that seems like way too much work.

Yeah, way too much work.

“Queen!” He exclaimed as the next song came on. He jumped from his seat, sliding into the common room to sing. No one was watching him, and with the amount of caffeine in his veins right now, he wouldn’t care if there was.

Actually, he didn’t want to sing.

Yeah, no thank you.

He collapsed onto the couch, still holding a can of Monster. I’m definitely addicted. He thought.

Fuck it, he didn’t care.

He was healthy enough to be a hero. Degrading that ever so slightly wouldn’t hurt anything but his mental health, but come now.

Were any of them really ever good in that department?

No, he didn’t think so.

“I’d like you and I to romancing~” He mumbled, taking a sip. His brain was currently going 150 miles per hour, as well as three miles per hour.

Is this what it’s like to be high? He questioned, thinking about how Aizawa would act when he came back from the After-PTA-Parties. Now, his dad was no light weight. He’s seen the man chug an entire bottle of beer and merely walk out and go to school like it was his morning coffee, which was also usually spiked. Now, imagine how much Aizawa had to drink to end up slurring, throwing up, and almost blackout drunk.

Yeah, that's how Hitoshi felt right now.

Thank god today's Saturday.

“Harry!” He exclaimed, as Harry Styles was the next artist to start playing. “You're a wizard, Harry!”

Was he high? If he wasn’t, he had to be pretty goddamn close to it.

“Oi?” He hears very distantly.

Hitoshi looks up and around for the source, until he’s met with his blond Pomeranian. “My love!” He says, slinging himself over the others shoulders.

Katsuki raised a brow. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Who cares? Kiss me!” Hitoshi showered the others neck in kisses, and Katsuki shoved him off promptly after.

“Your fucking high,” He deadpanned.

“No I’m not!” Hitoshi said, “I’m underage, that’d be illegal!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, somehow managing to lift the other taller boy's body weight like he was a baby. “I’m taking you to bed, you fucking dumbass.”

“You’ll go with me?” Hitoshi asked with puppy dog eyes.

“Never do that again,” Commanded Katsuki, and Hitoshi's mouth was promptly shut.

“You need to stop doing this Toshi.” He started, making their way to the elevator, “I didn’t sign up for fucking baby sitting.”

“Love you too!” Hitoshi said, kissing the others neck.

“You're six foot!” Katsuki exclaimed, “I hate to admit it, but I should not be the one carrying you!”

“You admit I’m taller than you?”

“Fucking- How could I not?!? You’re like a fucking skyscraper, Hitoshi!”

“Aww.”

Katsuki scowls as they make it to their hallway. “You interrupted my morning workout routine.”

“Eww, you work out?” Hitoshi drawled, pursuing his lips.

“I’m in the hero course- and so are you for that matter! You cannot keep pulling caffeine induced all-nighters and expect to be a famous hero-“

“Who said I wanted to be famous?” Hitoshi interrupted.

“Right, right. Daddy’s boy,” Katsuki sighed, opening Hitoshis door with his foot.

“Goddamn!” Hitoshi exclaimed, “Hella flexibly!”

“Mhm,” Katsuki replied tiredly. He nudged open the door. “Stand up.”

“You were doing such a good job though!” Hitoshi whined.

“Hitoshi Shinsou, I will count to five-“

“Fine, fine,” Hitoshi rolled his eyes stepping down from around Katsuki, yet still being miles above him. “Hehe.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Katsuki said, “Good night. And I swear to God, Hitoshi, if I see you downstairs before 1:30-“

“I know!” Hitoshi said, rolling into bed. “I love you, Kat.”

“Fuck off!” He yelled, walking out, and slamming the door behind him.

Seconds later, Hitoshi received a text.

BoomBastic: Love you too dumbass

[glsneeg-enthusiast]

how many kicks does it take to get to the center of randys brain

"I can't help if I don't know." That was Maria's favorite phrase now. Randy had heard it one hundred and two times in the month that he had lived with her. And to her credit she did care, it was an improvement from when she had been threatening to kill him twenty-something years ago.

"You haven't given me anything to work with, Randy." Maria's patience was running thin, Randy could hear it in her voice. "I haven't been told anything. Not where either of you have been for two decades, not what happened that day, not why you both were on the verge of dying in the hospital, not why my brother's more delusional than he's ever been, and not why you can't seem to fucking think anymore."

Randy opened his mouth to stutter some excuse, and Maria had started again. "Don't tell me you don't know. I will smack the shit out of you if you tell me you dont know."

It was horribly silent for the next four minutes, Maria let out a sigh and her grip on Randy's shoulder weakened. "Do you think I haven't noticed any of it? The way you knew Henrik was grabbing that knife before he did, after you met Ava? Do you think I haven't heard you throwing up in the middle of the night? Or the things you mumble over and over again, for hours straight if nobody bothers you?" She was barely speaking above a whisper now, her face softened with it and Randy had prayed to Showfall that he would just have a heart attack and die right now.

She chewed on her lip while she looked at the floor, like she was hesitating. A nauseatingly long pause and then, "Randy, you buried my father's body in the backyard. I'm sure nothing you did while you were gone is worse than that."

Randy wished that was still the worst thing he had ever done.

...

This was the first time Randy had done it since he was with Showfall, and he was missing his arm now so he was bound to struggle. He didn't think it would be so hard to carve chunks of his skin out with only one hand.

...

If he had timed it better Beau wouldn't have walked in and saw the blood surrounding his mouth. If he didn't hesitate as long as he did it would've gone the way he wanted and she wouldn't have ever known anything.

She didnt say a word while she wiped the blood off his face and stomach.

...

Beau had always done these little interventions since she met him. He wished he was still mature enough to think it was good.

"I'm mad at you. Randy, I do love you, but if I was smarter you'd be in the psych ward again."

It always hurt, it would never not hurt. She had tried so hard to take care of him and this is how he repaid her, she deserved to say it and it deserved to hurt.

...

Randy had tried very hard to ignore how Henrik had been staring at him for twenty-six minutes, sitting with his back against the wall, knees to his chest, arms crossed over them. They had both come out of Showfall undoubtedly and horrifically changed, but Randy felt the same way he did thirty years ago. If he didn't have worse things on his mind he could go on another tangent in his head about how maybe he and Henrik were living in some horrible purgatory where they were stuck in the same but almost different scenarios over and over and over again, that maybe they really did just die that night and none of this was real.

And Randy had tried very hard to not fall over when Henrik had stood up and kicked him in the back of the leg. He had only stumbled a bit, which was better than fully falling over like he did a week ago. Henrik's pupils weren't dilated, even Randy could make it out with his blurry vision. His pupils weren't dilated which meant he wasn't drugged out of his mind or running on autopilot, which meant that he did remember everything. Nothing ever went well when he could remember.

"I heard Maria yelling at you earlier." Henrik had put his head against Randy's shoulder, much harder than preferred, Randy would probably bruise and Henrik would probably get a headache from it. "You're a fucking coward."

Randy wished the air didn't catch in his throat the way it did, he always hated when Henrik got a reaction out of him. Henrik had stumbled around and rubbed himself against half of Randy's body, the same way he always did, and then he had wrapped his arms around Randy's waist. He could feel Henrik's nails digging into his shirt and his skin underneath. Henrik smiled at him and it made him want to throw up.

For a moment Randy had forgotten everything either of them had done, focused on the fact that it was Henrik and he was touching him, and if he tried hard enough he could just barely make out all the lines in his face, the crookedness in his teeth, how his glasses sat lower on his nose than they were supposed to. For that moment Henrik didn't look like he hated Randy. And then it hit him like a brick that Henrik didn't care about what happened to them anymore, and he wouldn't care about it ever again. Either of them could die right now and he wouldn't care. Randy remembered clear as day how scared Henrik used to be about one of them dying, how he would cry and shake so bad he couldn't breathe. He didn't do that anymore.

Henrik had grabbed Randy's arm and pulled it up to his mouth, bit down on his forearm for at least thirty seconds and then let go. Randy almost wanted him to tear the flesh off. Henrik had smiled at him again. "Remind you of anything?"

Of course it did, Henrik just liked watching the discomfort settle on Randy's face while he thought about it. Randy didnt like thinking of it. Henrik being lucid was almost the worst thing that could happen, nearly mutually assured destruction except Henrik didn't care about what it could lead to. A ticking time bomb before one particularly bad episode and then Henrik spills it all, and all the reassurances and lies that Randy had built up would be gone in seconds.

"You're not any better than me. Randy, you did all the same things I did, but you're the only one that turned kids into cannibals," Henrik was holding his face now and Randy was trying not to throw up, "right?" He had tried to deny it and Henrik cut him off, "You did. You know you did, and I know you did. Do you think Maria wants to know too? Beau? Or is it another little secret like how you like eating people?"

Randy had uselessly been trying to shake his head no the entire time, trying to stutter out some kind of response and only getting out some half-assed and pathetic "stop"s. But maybe that was enough, because Henrik had stopped and pulled away and he almost looked scared.

Henrik didn't say or do anything else, only stared at his hands for maybe a minute and then walked out of the room.

[eco-lite]

Volume 5 thoughts! I can’t believe I have to wait until November for volume 6. 😩

“Citrine Undaunted”

* Bye bye, Shimomura. 👋🏼 Good luck following your passions. I hope Seigi will take inspiration from this.

* This is truly such a bizarre story. Why does it feel like Ms. Darling is some supernatural creature trying to influence Seigi’s path in life? And her compliments about Seigi’s hands are very uncomfortable.

* “It was a lot easier when you let your brain process what you were going to say before you opened your mouth, rather than blurting out something stupid in a panic” (36). Seigi… are you just learning this now?

* I can’t wait for Seigi to do some actual self-reflection and realize that he doesn’t give a shit about being a civil servant.

* Richard loves showing Seigi bi-colored stones, huh…?

* Richard sending emojis makes me so happy.

“A Visage in Sardonyx”

* Poor Homura. Let’s hope third time’s the charm for him. He does seem a bit to quick to marry though.

* Wait, so agate is quartz too? I never new so many stones were varieties of quartz!

* I never know how cameos were made either—that’s so cool!

* “‘Say, for example, you love someone in a romantic sense, but that person doesn’t even consider you a romantic possibility. You’re just someone they “care about deeply”’” (81). Please don’t say this to Richard. That’s gonna hit way to close to home. 🥲

* I’ve considered before that Richard may have wanted to just stop living, but it doesn’t hurt any less for him to confirm it. I’m glad he has support now. It gives new mean to when he says that Saul saved his life, though.

* SEIGI! How are you going to say that your relationship with Richard hasn’t changed at all, and that you’re just boss and employee?! After everything you went through together in the last volume??? Now that you regularly go out to dinner together and talk in the phone until 1:30am?????? What is your problem, man?

* I know the circumstances are weird, but I think Richard and Tanimoto would get along really well and have a lot to talk about. I’m excited for them to meet!

* Although I feel weird about the whole “in love with my stepmother” thing, this case was an interesting exploration of different kinds of love—and how defining your love for someone sometimes isn’t the most important thing. What matters is that the love is there. I suppose I agree with that. It definitely matters how you define the relationship that the love occurs in, though. Seigi needs to start thinking about that.

“The Majesty of Zircon”

* I agree that strict government work probably is t right for Seigi, but damn, his classmates are brutal!

* “And that was how the first step of my self-assessment started—with the fact that I apparently didn’t know the first thing about myself being shoved in my face” (110). Yeah, there are several things you don’t know about yourself, Seigi. Once again, I am begging you to do some self-reflection!

* Woah, a flashback and a POV switch?!

* “‘… I have a interest in waterside ecosystems’” (124). Wow me too!

* Not Jeffrey suggesting they burn the Claremont estate down 😅

* Lol the catharsis of punching Jeffrey in a dream. Wish I could do that. If Richard’s dream is accurate… wtf, Jeffrey?

* “‘…I don’t know how many people you must’ve hurt by being such an impossibly insensitive jerk. A guy like you would never be popular with the high school girls in Delhi, no matter how handsome you are. I could call a dozen of my old friends, and they’d all be like “No thanks”’” (172). You tell him! I love Monica so much.

* Lol Richard giving himself a pep talk in order to make a salad.

* This puts a new perspective on the scene in “White Sapphire” when Richard tells Seigi that he should value himself more than to just throw himself into dangerous situations to save others. Richard learned that lesson himself. He also cares about people deeply enough to take crazy desperate actions. Saul was the one who taught Richard to have more care for himself, and now Richard is passing on that advice to Seigi.

“The Grace of Peridot”

* Not Richard making Seigi read Les Misérables lol

* No Seigi, your past is not “better left unsaid!” Please tell us!

* I really don’t understand why Richard’s parents ever thought they could make their relationship work. Like, how do a conservation-focused entomologist and a self-obsessed actress even fall in love with each other??

* I can’t believe I’m past the point where Seigi saying he would jump into a fire if Richard begged him to doesn’t phase me at all. Yeah, that’s normal Seigi behavior. 🤦🏽‍♀️ For real though, the image of Richard crying and begging is truly very distressing. I hope he never feels so much pain.

* I don’t think we’ve seen Seigi call Richard cute before. And not only cute, but “like a matcha frappé with whipped cream and chocolate chips and muscovado sugar” (256). Wowie.

* This reunion with Chieko is so sweet. Richard is actually being adorable.

* “At any rate, I knew that Richard was not fit to stand around and chat, so I decided to wrap things up there” (258). It’s really hitting me just how attentive Seigi is to Richard’s emotional needs. It’s not just carrying candy around to pacify him when he’s in a bad mood. In this situation, Seigi understands that reuniting with Chieko is a very happy, but also emotionally exhausting experience for Richard. Seigi knows just when to remove them from the situation and come back another time. It’s very sweet.

* HOMURA PLEASE WHY ARE YOU HERE? Well, at least it seems like this relationship will succeed. Third time’s the charm.

* I’m so happy that Richard had such a caring mother figure, and that they’re reunited now. I hope they can see each other often.

* Ew not Margaret Thatcher 😑

* Classic marriage mixup once again.

* Wtf is Richard going to say to him?! You can’t just not let us in on this, Tsujimura!

“Andalusite on Christmas Eve”

* Tanimoto: misunderstands Seigi as always. Seigi: “There really are no gods in this world, huh?” 🥲

* “‘Now, I’m just speaking for myself, but special days can be a bit like storms. And in stormy weather, what you need isn’t a compass or sails but a calm harbor where you can set anchor.’ And then Richard said softly that he prayed that I would find such a place” (291). Holy shit. 🥲🥲

“Tiger’s Eye Look Back”

* A cute little story from the first few months of Seigi working at Étranger. I’m trying to figure out why this little scene was included, though. Maybe to show us just how far both Seigi and Richard have come since the beginning of the story.

* I find it really interesting that Seigi never questions why he finds Richard so beautiful. I feel like a typical “straight” man would not be so casual about thinking another man is beautiful, or having any of the other extremely romantically coded thoughts Seigi has about Richard. But I do appreciate that this series normalizes all different types of people finding beauty and happiness in all sorts of things.

Unrelated to a specific case, but now that Tsujimura has established multiple perspectives besides Seigi’s, I really want to read from Richard’s perspective. I know that would diminish the mystery around him and take away from learning about him as Seigi does, but I really want to know his thoughts in the moment he met Seigi. I’d love a re-telling of that first case from Richard’s POV.

[killmongerskeepermain]

Our Future // The Wedding // Shuri

Summary: Part 2 of Our Future

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff // Cute shit // I tried to stray away from the traditional american wedding // I love her so much // Angst if you squint // Mentioned Character Death //

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: As promised here is Part 2! Yall I had fun with this one, cried a little but I hope yall enjoy it.

The time had come. Quicker than you expected. Today was the day. You could only wish T’Challa and Ramonda were here to witness your union. But as your people say, death is not the end. They are here with you and Shuri. Your stomach fluttered as you sat in front of the mirror. One of your friends stood behind you, hair in the process of being braided while waiting for Nakia to bring the dress. You were prepared to become Shuri's wife. As she was prepared to have you as such. Your face was decorated with white dots adorning your cheeks and nose. Some that mimicked Shuri's panther mantle. Your fingers are decorated with gold jewelry plus the ring Shuri proposed with. You stared at your reflection with a smile on your glossed lips as old memories flooded your thoughts. Your mind wandered back to when the late Queen Ramonda had joked that you two would end up marrying each other. 

// Flashback //

"That is not correct and you know it. The sequence is so easy even my brother could do it." She sighed as you stood with crossed arms. She was getting real snappy ever since you told her you had to stay in the states for a couple of days.

"You can be upset all you want princess but do not disrespect my intelligence. I am just as smart as you and deserve to be treated as such." You sneered as you sat the documents on the table. Shuri paused her tantrum and shook her head as she went back to her work. "T'Challa needed my assistance on this trip. Shuri I'm coming back. If you're going to miss me just say that." Your smirk grew as she turned to you with a stunned expression. 

"I will not. I have too much to do anyway to notice you're gone." She started walking to another table. You silently followed before throwing your arm over her shoulders. "You don't seem like you won't notice." She shrugged your arm off with a forced frown on her face. "You're so full of yourself." You took the opportunity to leave the lab with a grin before her voice stopped you. "Call everyday to check in." You smiled at her back but went on to your room, meeting the Queen in the hall. She had Okoye by her side and you politely waved. 

"The two of them bicker like a married couple." Okoye grinned as the Queen tried to hide her snickers.

"It's just Shuri being thick headed. Sometimes you can't get a single word through that brain of hers."

"It's her way of caring about you. Which she does quite a lot. I wouldn't mind having you part of the family one day." She smiled and you felt your cheeks burn. 

"Oh you humble me queen mother. Me and Shuri? I don't know how that would work." You let your arms cover your body as the thought crossed your mind. Shuri wouldn't want to be with you that way…..Right?

"If these walls could talk child. They'd have a mouthful to say about you two." She grinned as she tapped your shoulder before heading to the lab. Probably to speak with Shuri about the trip. You and Shuri. Ha. That's a thought.

// End of Flashback // 

You were pulled out of your thoughts as your favorite Jabari girls rushed in the room to see you. You smiled down at the three as they had matching hairstyles and dresses. "Well aren't you three looking beautiful as ever. Your father actually let you out of his sight?" You let out a laugh as M'Juba shrugged her shoulders. 

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. I promised to be the responsible older sister and watch them." She said as Amdeh crawled into your lap. "When will it start? I'm sure Shuri would love to see you."

"She can't see me until the ceremony. We'll walk in together." You told the girl as Amdeh watched the last of your hair get braided. 

"Move over Amdeh. I want to see it as well!" Asha whined and you felt a smile form on your lips. Thinking back to certain conversations you shared with your love.

"How do you feel about children?" The memory was fresh as you only had it some days ago. "When the time is right. I wouldn't mind."

"When will we have kids of our own?" This was the first time she asked you this. You weren't scared or worried. You would like to have children with her. Your Shuri. 

"Whenever you can find us a place to make it possible."

"Are we going to be the cool aunties who buy everything when their parents say no?" Your shoulders shook as laughter rocked your body. "Considering how many times you've told Toussaint not to tell his mother whenever you gave him something she said no to. You're already there my love."

A soft knock caught your attention and the four of you looked up to see Nakia with a genuine smile. "It's time for your dress." You gently moved Amdeh out of your lap before standing up to approach Nakia. "Would you mind helping me?" She held a bright smile before hanging the dress on the hook. You took a long look at the white dress with gold jewels decorating the torso and neckline. Nakia unzipped the dress as you stepped in to allow her to pull it up your body. She moved to zip up the back and found your gaze in the mirror. Placing the clips in your hair to pull the look together you felt yourself smile. You looked and felt beautiful. 

"You're so pretty Y/N!" M'Juba beamed and you smiled at her as her sisters nodded in agreement. 

"You look beautiful, sister." Nakia smiled trying not to cry. Nakia had always been supportive of you and your relationship. She helped you to process your feelings for the princess when you were figuring out if you liked her or not. She taught you how to grow your own vegetables and would come visit with Toussaint. Her hand rested on your shoulder and you squeezed her hand. Suddenly feeling grateful for everything she's done. "Thank you." You promised yourself you wouldn't cry so when she saw your eyes water she pulled you into a hug. "Come now. No time for tears. It's time." 

You turned to the girls with a wide smile. "Go on you three. You have to take your place next to your father." They all hugged your legs before Nakia ushered them to the aisle. Toussaint walked in with a grin before holding his arm out. "Ready to escort me?" 

"I sure am auntie." He said with a light giggle and you fanned yourself before grabbing hold of him. Nakia returned with a grin as she turned the veil over your face. Everyone present at the ceremony will lay eyes on you after Shuri does. You'll meet her at the entrance and become her wife. Her wife. Shuri Udaku's wife. You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding as she came into view. Her back was to you, but you could still tell how beautiful she looked. She wore her own white dress with gold accents and accessories. You and Toussaint exchanged knowing looks before he left you to go hug his auntie. With his presence she knew you were behind her. He walked hand in hand with his mother into the ceremony as you gently tapped Shuri's shoulder. She slowly turned with her eyes to the floor. Her gaze slowly took in every thread and jewel adorning your figure. As if saving this image in her mind. 

"My love. You look astonishing." She told you in a low voice. The same tone she would use when she was speechless. Her curls in her face with the sides and back cleanly shaven. Her own features are painted just as yours. She was breathtaking. "I could say the same to you. Gorgeous my dearest." She held out her hand for you to take and you intertwined your fingers, watching intensively as she brought your hand to her lips. You could melt right then and there. 

"Let's go." You both turned to face the door as it opened, revealing you to the tribes. The music thumping and cheering crowds couldn't get louder than the sound of your heart beating through your ears. When the two of you reached the altar you couldn't help but feel amazed. The altar was littered with heart shaped herbs, their glowing purple hue made the sight even more beautiful. Your eyes scanned the people surrounding you before your eyes found hers. Everything had gone silent for just a second and it felt like no one else was there. Just you and Shuri at this moment. 

"Usana. I've been waiting for this moment for as long as I can remember. You've always been my other half even when we fought. No matter what, just as I protect my country, I will protect you with my life." She brought her hands up to push the veil off your face. "If you'll allow me to do so, sthandwa." She leaned her forehead to rest against yours and you gave a nod, soaking in the feeling of her warmth. 

"As long as you allow me to fight for you as well. Every protector needs someone to have their backs. And I will dedicate myself to do so. I love you too much." You keep it short as there's a later time after the ceremony for both of you to pour out your hearts to the other

"Umfazi wam."

"Umfazi wam."

She lifted your chin before her lips met yours in a soft kiss and M'Baku was the first to jump up with a shout. You pulled back from the kiss. "Mayafa!" The three girls grunted in response as the other tribes began to dance in celebration. Shuri pecked your lips once more while everyone danced and shouted. 

"If only my mother and brother were here to see this."

"They are. And if your mother was physically here she'd say "I told you so." You smiled as she laughed at the thought with a wide grin.

"You're right." Her lip was between her teeth. Something she did when she thought long and hard. "I have something for you. Come. We'll be right back." She led you to the herb garden when she stood with a thin black box. 

"Shuri-"

"I know we said no gifts but I thought of this and I couldn't let the opportunity slip from me. Have I ever told you how you remind me of the heart shaped herb?" She questioned and you frowned in confusion. She took your silence to continue. "The herb is used to give us the strength we need to protect this country and its people. When you said yes to marrying me, it gave me a new found strength. One that I'll cherish for the rest of my life. Whether we make it to the end or Bast forbid anything splits us apart, I want you to have this." She opened the box to reveal a heart shaped necklace. The purple shimmer caught your eye and you found your partner's gaze. 

"This is-"

"Yes. I infused one of the herbs and vibranium to create it." You shivered as the cold metal came in contact with your skin as she connected it behind your neck. Your hand held the silver piece before you felt her lips on your shoulder. "Our future starts now Mrs. Udaku." You turned in her arms before crashing your lips into hers. Your finger tangled in her curls as her hands held onto your waist. The hungry kiss became more slow and sensual before you pulled away to catch a breath. You scanned her face before resting your foreheads together.

"Not yet. I um, have something for you as well." It was your turn to lead her as you walked to your shared bedroom. Walking around to the nightstand on your side of the bed you pulled two small picture frames from the draw and handed them to her. "These were written to you from your brother and mother. Apparently they both had the gift of seeing into the future and wanted you to have them on our wedding day." You told her with a smile and Shuri felt as if she was floating. Her family left letters for her? On her wedding day? "I can leave so you can read them if you'd like."

"No. Stay with me. Please." You knew this would be a sensitive situation for her. But she deserves them. The least you can do is honor her family's wishes. She started with her mother's first. You sat next to her on the bed with your hand on her back, offering comfort. 

To my sweet Shuri,

If you are reading this, then my hunch was correct. You and Y/N have finally admitted to yourselves that the two of you are soulmates. Your father and I have thought about this day more times than you think. Y/N has always been and always will be family. Marriage is not easy. There will be ups and downs. There will be arguments. There will be tears. But the two of you together will overcome any obstacle thrown your way. I am so proud of you, my child. You have always shown that you can do just fine on your own. And now with Y/N by your side, I know you will go above and beyond that. Love and cherish each other. Put each other first. Never be afraid to show others who you are. 

Your mother, Ramonda

By the end Shuri had tears rolling down her cheeks but a smile graced her features. Her eyes were closed and you rubbed small circles on her back. "Do you need a break?" She shook her head no before moving onto her brother's letter. 

Shuri,

You finally did it sister? You asked Y/N to be your forever person? You make your older brother proud. Because if you didn't then why are you reading this? I know you have questions. Questions I don't quite have all the answers to. I don't have much time left and I have accepted that. I know you'll try your hardest to save me. Unfortunately it may not go the way you want it, but if the ancestors allow, I'll forever be with you and our mother. And Nakia. And Toussaint. I'm sure by now you've met my son. I don't want you blaming yourself for what awaits us. I want you to live on, knowing that you have a wonderful partner by your side. I couldn't see you married to anyone else unless it's one of your computers or creations. I asked Y/N to show you this whenever the two of you take the next step in your lives. While I won't know what's in store for Wakanda, I strongly believe that you will be a great protector. And an even better Black Panther. Not just for our country but for our people. For Y/N. Do not leave behind your love the way I will. I dread the day but it is inevitable for me from here. Y/N will make a great wife. A great queen. Love her. Cherish her. Hold onto her. I believe you will do nothing short of that. Remember death is not the end for us. I'll always be with you.

T'Challa

Shuri finally broke and leaned her head into your neck as you held her. "I'm here usana. I'm here. It's okay." You whispered words of reassurance as you rubbed her back, letting her sobs rock her body. When she calmed down a little you lifted her chin so she could look at you. You wiped her tears away with your thumbs before kissing her forehead. "They wrote those letters to you because they loved you. Wanted you to wait to read them because they believed that on this day you would be content. Happy. I can't speak for your brother but he wanted you to be happy. Even after his passing." 

"I am happy. More happy than I've ever been. You've been holding onto these the entire time?" She held the picture frames in her lap and you nodded.

"You're not the only one who can keep a good secret." You smiled and she hugged your body tight. "Now our future starts." She smiled down at you staring as if you were the most precious thing in the world. In her world you were just that. "Come on. Let's head back before people start to notice we're gone." You wiped her face with a tissue and you giggled as she let you do your thing. "People being Toussaint and the girls. Nothing slips past those young ones."

[thedocs-in]

Military School Pt.2

Apologies for taking so long on this. Life got a little hectic around Christmas time, and I just haven't had the time since. But things have finally calmed down enough that I had the chance to make those edits.

But here is part 2, I will get part 3 up as soon as possible. But it might take a bit since I have to re-write it. And hopefully I can get more Cecil art done. As well as drawing his dad because, fuck it, why not.

Link to Pt.1

TW: blood, injuries, mentions of the foster system

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

Walking through the empty halls with his father, there was a growing tension between the two. He was dreading the ride home, knowing as soon as they stepped through the door, he was gonna be on the receiving end of a tongue lashing. While his dad rarely yelled at him, this situation was different. He was on the verge of getting kicked out of the only high school in town and there weren’t many options for him.

Exiting the school, he was hit by the warm evening air. Despite the sun nearly being down, the air still felt sticky. Looking around he noticed only a handful of cars in the parking lot. Given how long he had been sitting in the office he wasn’t surprised. Normally he would’ve been home by now, but he wasn’t expecting to get into a fight after school. A fight that the jackass senior started and was blaming him for. In his own defense, he didn’t throw the first punch. But it didn’t matter.

Reaching his dads’ car, he reached for the door handle before being stopped when his dad called for him. “Hold up. Let me check your nose first.”

Turning around, he faced his dad and braced himself. As his father’s fingers prodded at his nose, pain erupted, and he violently jerked back.

His dad hummed, “Hmmm… should be an easy fix. I can put it back into place as soon as we get home.”

His father stepped back and walked around to the drivers’ side. Sighing, he pulled open the passenger side door and slid in. Shutting the door behind him. As he buckled himself in, his dad started the car and pulled out of the parking space.

For the most part it was a quiet ride, the radio was off, and the only other sounds would be the occasional passing car that would break the silence.

A few minutes go by when he finally mustered the courage to say something, “So, should I be packing my bags for Marlin academy?”

For what felt like forever they both sat there in silence, nothing but road noise filling the void.

His dad sighs, “Were you telling the truth? Were you really just protecting your friend?”

“Yeah, that senior threw the first punch when I went to talk to him.”

“You really went to just talk?” His dad raised his brow.

“Yeah, I really tried to deal without fighting this time.”

His dad got quiet for a moment, “I know you wouldn’t throw the first punch without a good reason. You’re not getting off easy at home by the way, you will be doing all the schoolwork you’re gonna be missing as well as extra chores…” His dad paused for a second, “You really went off on that kid, not gonna lie though, he did kind of deserve it. Probably learned to act that way from his dad.”

“Kind of like how I got my foul mouth from you?”

His dad chuckled softly, “Yeah kind of… Listen, you can’t keep getting into fights, or at least ones that severe. One day someone will call the cops on you, and I won’t be able to help you. I know you don’t like it when assholes get away with doing bad shit, but you can’t always take justice into your own hands. You’ll find yourself in a situation where you’ll just have to accept the consequences.”

Looking down at his hands, they ached in pain. And he knew they were gonna be bruised tomorrow. He started to use the rag to try and wipe off the blood.

His dad must’ve seen him messing with his hands, “Knuckles hurt?”

“Yeah, a little bit.” He replied as he rubbed his thumb in between in knuckles.

His dad smirked, “I’ll get you some ice when we get home. Hopefully you didn’t break anything, I can’t do anything about that. Honestly… and I’m not trying to encourage you or anything, but I’m impressed that you were able to kick his ass.”

He smiled, “Kinda makes you think that he’s not all that great of a football player.”

The older Stedman laughed, “Haha, no shit. I wonder what’s more hurt his ego, for getting his ass handed to him by a 14-year-old, or the fact that he’s gonna be missing some games till he’s off probation?”

“Probably both.”

Silence quickly took over, nothing but the sound of the road and the occasional passing car.

After a couple minutes they finally pull into the driveway of their little home. Hopping out of the car, he started to make his way to the front door when he heard his dad call him.

“Go get the first aid kit and meet me in the bathroom, gotta get the mail first.”

Nodding his head, he bounds up the front porch and unlocks the front door. Going inside.  and goes straight for the first aid kit in the laundry room. Grabbing it, he darts to the bathroom down the hall and sets it on the bathroom counter.

Looking in the mirror, the skin under his eyes and across his nose was starting to change color; his lip swollen. Dried blood stained the lower half of his face and neck.

As he inspected his face, he heard the door open and shut. Keys being tossed into the bowl by the door. And his father’s footsteps coming towards the bathroom.

Turning to the door, his dad stood there. “You may want to leave your shirt on, it’s already ruined. Might as well use it to keep blood from getting anywhere else.”

Nodding his head, he stepped aside to let his dad grab what he needed.

“You know the drill, edge of the tub.” His dad washed his hands, glancing over at him briefly. “Do you need something to bite on?”

Thinking back to the last time he broke his nose, he remembered how he had bitten his cheek so hard last time he could taste blood for nearly two weeks straight. “Yeah, I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

His dad held out a scrap of leather that came from an old belt. Taking it, he remembered all the times he’s had to bite down on it when he got hurt. Usually from doing something stupid, like the time he climbed the tree in the backyard and the branch he was stepping on broke out from under him; resulting in a nasty cut on his leg that required stitches. Putting the scrap between his teeth, he braced himself.

Finished at the sink, his dad sat down on the toilet, “Alright, the sooner this is done the sooner I can start dinner. You ready?”

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. He watched as his dad used a little rod to push the broken bit of bone back into place. Biting down on the leather, he squeezed his eyes shut. Trying his best to block out the pain.

With a click, he felt his nose pop back into place. Slowly opening his eyes, tears blurred his vision. Through blurry vision he watched as his dad’s packed his nose with gauze. Which only sent more pain throughout his face. Blinking, he cleared his vision and looked at his dad. The same serious expression plastered on his face.

Soon his nose was all patched up and his dad leaned back, “Alright you’re all done, you know the drill be careful with your nose. Painkillers are in the cupboard, make sure you take it now, so it’ll kick in sooner.” His dad stood up and was about halfway out of the bathroom door before stopping, “Oh, and take a shower before dinner, you’re uh… smelling a little ripe. And be sure to tape up your nose as soon as you’re done.”

Nodding his head, he watched as his dad strolled out of the bathroom. Leaving him to get cleaned up. Standing up, he went to his room. Rifling through his closet for clean clothes. Grabbing the first thing he saw; he quickly went back to the bathroom, taking the painkillers before hopping into the shower. Within 15 minutes he’s cleaned up. Before exiting, he taped his nose up. Silently, he walked out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen, ruined shirt in hand.

Walking into the kitchen, his dad had his back to him. Focused on the stove, finishing up their dinner.

Holding up his shirt, he makes his presence known, “Hey dad, inside or outside garbage?”

His dad turns his head, “Hm? Oh, uh, outside, just make sure you bury it under the other stuff. Hate for the raccoons to shred your shirt on the front lawn.” His dad chuckled. “That’d be an awkward conversation with the neighbors, don’t want them to think I beat you. Dinner will be ready any second, made some soup, so be quick.”

Going out the backdoor, he walked over to the garbage can. Pulling off the lid, and pulling a few bags out, before burying the shirt deep in the trash. Replacing the lid, he went back in the side door and looked into the dining room, his dad already sitting at the table.

His dad motioned for him to join, “Dinner’s ready.”

Sitting across from his dad, the two of them silently ate their dinner.

As he ate, the situation of the whole situation started to settle in. Causing a knot to form in his stomach. Setting the spoon down, he stared at the bowl in front of him. Wondering what was going to happen.

His dad noticed, “You okay? Does it hurt to eat?”

Shaking his head, he continued to stare at the bowl, “Do you think they’re gonna believe me? I know you said you weren’t gonna send me to military school, but it’s not like there any other high school in town. Except maybe the Catholic school.”

His dad set his elbows on the table and put his hands together. He was quiet for a minute and sighed. “I’m not sure. Honestly, it seemed like principal Owens was on your side, considering how ‘jackass’ had reacted, but I’m not sure. I’m certainly not sending you to the Catholic school. Nothing against the church, I just don’t think it would be a good idea to send you to a Catholic school. You’d get yourself kicked out on day one. No offense kid, but you swear too much for someone your age. But that’s on me. As for the military school, it may be our only option, considering driving you back and forth to the next town over wouldn’t make things easy.”

His dad leaned back in the kitchen chair, “You may have screwed the pooch on this one kid. But no matter what happens we’ll figure something out, we always do.”

He laughed nervously, “You could always send me to live aunt Sarah or uncle Ollie, and I could go to school where they live.”

His dad stiffened up, and his expression changed to one that was a mixture of sadness and concern. “Hey, hey! I don’t want to hear that. I threaten you a lot with military school, but I’m not gonna send you off to live with relatives. I refuse to be one of those parents that pawns their kid off on someone else when they get out of hand. I know I’m a bit of a hardass, but I just want what’s best for you.”

His dad rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I didn’t have my parent’s growing up, and I don’t want you to go through something like that. It doesn’t matter if they are my siblings, I’ve got nothing against them, but I want to raise my own damn child."

A sad silence took over the Stedman household, both of them staring at their dinner. A twinge of guilt rose in his chest; his dad rarely talking about being raised in the foster system after his mom had died, but he should’ve known better than to bring it up.

He sheepishly broke the silence, “Dad, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Don’t be, we both got screwed in the family department.” His dad scoffed, “I mean for fucks sake the only person I’ve met on your mother’s side, is your mother.”

The rest of dinner passed quietly, and the two did their evening routines, winding down from a hectic day. Hunched over his homework, he heard a knock at his bedroom door. Looking at the door, his dad stood in the open doorway.

“Lights out kid, you may not be going to school tomorrow, but you’re not staying up all night.”

Nodding his head, he closed his math book and sat up, “Yes sir.”

His dad then walked away leaving the door open, light from the hallway illuminating his room. Getting up from his desk, he shut off the desk lamp as he walked away. Padding off to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Looking in the mirror, a large purple bruise had begun to grow. Spreading across his cheeks and his nose. Sighing, he spit out the remaining toothpaste in his mouth and went back to his room. Exhausted, he crawled into bed. Reaching up he shut off the lights above his bed and quickly passed out.

[nolanhollogay]

Places Where People Kiss: + in the rain!

ok i Have to write the jjedgar reunion kiss set to false god by tswift bcuz it's haunting me

+

It was raining. No, rain wasn't the right word. It was storming, the sky wreaking havoc on the island and shaking the walls of Edgar's house. Every few moments, lightning would make his windows flash like camera lights, and the thunder sounded like some kind of dying car engine. Only a moron would be stupid enough to be in it.

So, of course JJ was standing under his window drenched to the bone.

"What are you doing?" Edgar shouted down to him. It was cruel to say but he looked pathetic, like a cat after a bath. His hair and clothes clung to him like plastic wrap and he was obviously shivering. How long had he stood there, working up the nerve to throw something at the window and get Edgar's attention?

"I need to talk to you," he replied. "Just for a minute."

Edgar's concern was overcome by annoyance. JJ had dumped him and went out of his way to avoid him and now he wanted to talk? "About what?"

JJ paused, obviously thinking whatever he was about to say through. "I shouldn't have broken up with you. It's just.. Nova got into my head, you know? Said a whole buncha shit about how hiding our relationship was holding me back."

Edgar clenched his jaw. "You broke up with me because of freaking Nova? The only person she's dated is John B and he broke up with her because she sucks! Like fundamentally as a person!"

JJ huffed out a laugh. "I know. It's why I love her. She's my oldest friend and I really care about what she has to say, you know? Even when I probably shouldn't. And I started to think, what if our relationship really was holding me back?"

Edgar frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't know what point JJ was trying to make but he was starting to hurt his feelings.

"But it doesn't. You could never hold me back. This is gonna sound, like, corny as fuck but.. I think you make me better. I want to do better cause of you. And that might be just because your Jesus freak shit is sinking into my brain, but it's probably because you're a really good person. So, like I love her, but fuck what Nova has to say about you and me and us. And, uh, I'd really want to get back together with you. If you want to."

As soon as he finished speaking, Edgar was climbing out of his window. Which was a really stupid idea because it was super slippery because of the rain but the power of love and The Lord made it sure that he didn't fall to his death.

The second he was on solid ground, he ran into JJ's arms. He grunted at the impact, but didn't stumble, just as strong and solid as always.

"I'm sorry I was stupid," he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to Edgar's temple.

The rain was cold and unforgiving, but Edgar barely noticed as JJ held him close.

Edgar rolled his eyes. "It's okay, I'm used to it. It's why I love you."

JJ's eyes lit up as thunder cracked above them. "You love me?"

"I wouldn't be out in a thunderstorm if I didn't, would I?"

Concern flooded JJ's face. "Oh, baby, you hate the rain. You didn't have to come ou–"

Edgar cut him off by grabbing his face and pressing their mouths together.

JJ sighed, leaning into him, pulling him impossibly closer, and all was right in the world.

Even the rain started to lighten up, if only a little.

Edgar pulled away, teeth chattering as he smiled. "Come inside, mi naranjita."

"Whatever you want."

[sadsimp]

Creepypasta OC thingy

My little stories are taking up too much space so I’ve decided to put them here :). Set with the creepypasta but a little bit different? Idk

Warnings: Angst? :’) and some gore (not a lot?? Idk) and some fluff at the end :3

Ocs name if Fall and they’re a Worker/Proxy under The Boss (not Slenderman) and they were forced to take care of two demon kids. Ik it’s weird but we’re gonna roll with it

Questions 

The moment they dragged their body through the door Helen was walking out and Miracle bomb bardes them with questions.

“Why is there blood all over you?” I sit down on the couch.

“What’s in the bag?” As I drop the bag holding necessities: my weapons, first aid, map, files, money, etc. 

“What did you do?” As I peel off my boots caked in blood and mud.

“Did you have a good day?” When I pull off my layers leaving me only in a t-shirt and my pants.

“Was there a bunny where you went?” As I stand back up and slowly wake to the hamper in the hallway. Lately he’s been obsessed with rabbits. I told him I would try to look for one though I didn’t see any, I was too sidetracked. I toss the clothes in. 

He follows me all the way to Misery’s room where I check up on her and she’s fast asleep. I close the door before walking to his room.

“Why are you quiet?” I pull the covers down and motion for him to get in bed. 

“Did you not see a bunny?” 

I cover him up and wipe the blankets down. “No I didn’t. Sorry.” I mumble dragging myself to the bathroom. 

His questions grounded me somewhat, unfortunately that’s not the only the questions do. They make me sick, make me remember. 

It hurts. 

I pull off my pants and socks and throw them in the hall and shut the door. 

It burns. 

I rip off my mask and stare for a moment, leaning on the sink and getting more agitated by the second. 

It itches. 

It was silent in the small room besides their heavy breathing. They turn around to get a towel. A shower will be good, give them some time to calm down. It itches so fucking bad.

A hot shower will do. 

As they clean themselves off they start humming, trying to keep thoughts away but they always kept coming back.

After a while they finally get out, dry off and change. They feel grateful everyone’s asleep, they can walk around freely. The stumble to the kitchen in a tank top and shorts, mask had been tossed in their bedroom.

They pull out a cup and put chocolate milk in it, Miracle would have a fit but they need something for their medicine. The swallow the pills and make a noise of disgust. 

The dogs don’t acknowledge their owner shuffling back to their room. They take a drink and set it down before getting into bed. 

It still itches. Everything itches but they don’t scratch. They heard it’s bad for the scars to do that but they might stop caring soon. 

They try to sleep but the memories keep creeping up on them. Tossing and turning didn’t help their aching body. 

Being dragged into The Punishment Room kicking and screaming. 

Spitting blood at her feet resulting in another stab to the side soon afterward along with much worse. They just wished she didn’t turn the knife while still being inside their body. Or kept the wax on for as long as she did. They squeeze their eyes and try to ignore it, it’s like they could still feel it. 

*****1st POV*****

 “Did that hurt?” The Boss asked. 

My hands were bound behind me and my legs in front of me were bound too. My sides and upper thighs throbbed, the blood pouring from them didn’t help either. Why could I feel the liquid coming out? 

“Are you ready to be done?” She asked with a sickeningly sweet tone and smile. Bitch.

All this because I stabbed some sexist pig? 

“Did you learn your lesson?” 

What about the piece of shit?

There was still some blood in my mouth from the fight so I leaned forward, gritting my teeth, and I spat at her feet.

I glared up at her leaning back against the blood stained wall and she glared right back at me. 

She turned back to her tool desk, fuck. Probably should’ve not done that. “We aren’t done are we?” The knife she picked seemed more jaggy than the last and what’s that? Is.. that.. a candle? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

I woke up in a cold sweat, out of breath, and flung myself off the bed. The scars, particularly the same ones from my nightmare, itches. The cuts burn and the burns throb, they both itch. 

It takes me a moment to catch my breath. I rub my hands up and down my face cringing at the texture. 

I need more medicine. A knock gets me out of my mind and I instantly scramble to get my mask.

“Fall?” A small, quiet voice mumbles. Miracle. “You okay?” 

I take a deep breath shaking my head and chuckling. He either didn’t hear the house shake due to my flaying around or didn’t care. Despite having a demon in his brain, he’s very thoughtful and maybe a bit too naive. 

I get up and open the door. He steps back a little and rubs his eyes. “Yeah I’m okay.” I tell him in a raspy voice to which I cough to try and clear my dry throat. I open my arms to see what he wants and he lifts his arms up. I bend down to pick him up and carry him back to bed.

He gives me a squeeze before letting go and snuggling into his pillow. I feel like I owe him something… I tuck a hair behind his ear, “How about we go look for some rabbits tomorrow?” He sleepily corrects me, “Bunnies Mapa. Bunnies.” I pat his head and go to the hallway to start cleaning.