#ignore age issues he is like 10

[starlooove]

Omg just remembered the Alfred grandchild I made up

[crypt1dcorv1dae]

"chilshi is problematic because SENSHI thought chilchuck was a kid"

1: he eventually does come to understand that's not the case and even comments on it in his journal (he feels bad about misjudging him and his age)

2: falin and marcille met when falin was literally an actual child and marcille literally comments that she still sees falin that way (when falin says that she's a lot bigger than the last time they had a sleepover)

and I never see anybody give a fat fucking shit about that (whether they should or not, is not the point right now) so maybe don't be a hypocrite about a ship that's literally TWO MIDDLE AGED MEN just cus one misjudged the others age for a little while when the MOST POPULAR SHIP IN THE FANDOM is potentially suspect in a much realer way (given falin ACTUALLY WAS a child when they met)

Don't do the double standards thing

Edit: also tbh chilchuck has really never looked like a kid to me. It's about the way he carries himself like... No that's a grown ass man. He's just short and has a babyface. I know many twinks like this

[saeist]

SAEIST WE NEED AN AFTER ARGUMENT FLUFF FROM OUR LOVER SAE

you and sae rarely argued.

obviously there were a few misunderstandings here and there but given that you two were adults, misunderstandings would often be patched up by the end of the day as communication is something sae values a lot especially with how most of the time, you two are in a long distance relationship with his profession and all.

sae would rather have things said right on the dot than to beat around the bush

however, communicating with the soccer super star sometimes isn't enough. especially when his stubbornness kicks in. when times are in drastic measures and you two are not on the same boat even after talking it out rationally, sometimes all hell breaks loose.

all because sae has a bad habit of ignoring you when your little misunderstanding that turns into a full blown argument that blows out of proportion.

it's very on brand of him to do so if you say so yourself.

one could say it's a force of habit given this is the treatment he gives his own manager when things aren't going the way he envisions it. but some could also say that sae is just a blatant asshole for acting like this at his grown ass age

now you might be wondering, what could you two argue about that ended up with sae ignoring you? well it's because sae can't just bite back his own tongue

you were telling him that he should take it a little slow with his trainings because intense trainings usually bring home an irritated sae that would quite literally berate everything he sees including inanimate objects such as your shared pet cactus

and sae being sae, he most likely have said some not very nice things that may have escalated into whatever predicament you two are in right now instead of compromising and working things out like you two normally would

hours have passed and it's just been silence in your shared apartment. if you listened closely you could probably hear a pin drop with how eerie quiet it was

you've already grown past the issue. in retrospect it was kinda nonsensical now that you were off the intense emotional high. now that you think about it, the whole thing that went between you and sae just sounded stupid

amidst these past few hours, sae would occassionally come out of his office to get himself a glass of water to drink or some shit from the pantry. literally anything he can get his hands on in the kitchen where he needs to pass by the living room where you were currently in

you can feel his gaze boring holes onto the back of your head whenever he was at the kitchen for like 10 seconds. you know that he was itching to talk things out with you but you know better that his pride was on the line

talk about egotistical, right?

it was dinner time when sae breaks. he honestly looks and sounds like a stray cat who just got drenched in the rain and needed to take refuge in your care

"sorry" sae murmurs, looking up from his plate to give you the look of defeat evident in his eyes

sae was sure for a while that you would be the first one to break the ice in this little cold war you two currently have going on. boy, was he wrong.

you thought it'd be time for sae to have a taste of his own medicine for a change. how it would feel to be the receiving end of his silent treatment

noticing that you weren't saying anything and continued munching on your food, he initially thought you didn't hear him clearly. so he clears his throat in attempt to catch your attention.

"i said i'm sorry" he coughs, putting down his fork as he waits for you to lift your head up to look at him in the eye while he was talking to you

silence.

sae's eyes widened. usually you'd accept his apology right away. you can't resist him, and neither can he resist you so what's with the sudden switch?

he waits a little more in case you were just busy digesting your food properly but a beat of silence passes by and you were now getting up from the table to put your dishes on the sink.

"y/n" he calls out, running after you to the kitchen. you barely even spare him a glance, maneuvering your way around him to get to the kitchen sink so you could start washing your plate

sae debates with himself if he were to call your name again but quickly realizes that you aren't going to respond any time soon. he sighs, dropping his head. looks like he just lost in his own game

instead, he gets this idea to just follow you around like a lost puppy.

to be frank, you were lowkey enjoying tormenting sae like this. it was too good to be true that he would be the one to grovel and get on his knees to beg for your attention. the way he is literally attached to your hip as you carry on with your daily night routine which should've included doing the dishes together, cleaning up together and his favorite part of the night– doing skincare together

but alas, why isn't it the consequences of sae's actions.

you two were already in bed at this point but still, you have not uttered a word to sae, who was right next to you, eyes glued to your figure, watching you like a hawk.

sae couldn't take it anymore. he doesn't want to end the day like this where you two aren't talking. it was already a hassle for him that you two didn't talk at all for the rest of the day.

not that he's gonna admit it but he misses you. he misses the way you would talk til his ears fall off. he misses your daily reports to him about whatever you did throughout the day when he was out in training. he misses the laughter in the air as you come up with a (not so) funny joke,

sae just misses you. he's not used to your silence and it's killing him

swallowing his pride, sae slowly takes it upon himself to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest

"look, i shouldn't have yelled at you like that earlier. you were just looking out for me and i've been a little preoccupied with trainings that it's getting to me. i'm sorry for being an asshole recently" sae sincerely apologizes, a hand carefully reaching to caress your cheeks

with a smile, you finally look up at sae, "took you long enough" you tease, poking his nose

sae releases the air he was holding in, now that you were finally talking to him again

"never put me through that ever again. i'd rather walk through a thousand needles than you ignoring me" sae nags, wrapping his arms around you tighter.

"now you know how i feel when you ignore me!" you retaliate, snuggling closer to him

sae suddenly kisses the side of your face. "i mean what i said though, i'm sorry for saying all those words. i know that you're just looking out for me. let me make it up to you, y/n"

you look up at him, shaking your head

"no, i totally understand that you have to go to trainings. it's fine, sae. just ease up on trainings so i don't have to worry too much for your well being. can't have my super star all worn up" you joke, nudging him in the slightest

sae smiles. what did he ever do to deserve you

"whatever. i'm still gonna make it up to you for always dealing with me"

"if it's you sae, i don't mind dealing with you at all"

[delphi-shield]

:// sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ғᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ / ʙɪʟʟʏ.ʙᴜᴛᴄʜᴇʀ

Billy Butcher x Reader smut, hurt/no comfort wc: ~5.2k mdni read on ao3 digging the worms out of my brain real quick since i finally caught up with the boys. idk i think i worked through something personal with this, so like, that's a win for me.

summary: Butcher knows better than to be fucking around with you, but there's 50 quid in it for him if he gets you to call him 'daddy'. Easy money.

content: s4 spoilers, dubcon, butcher's pov, an exorbitant amount of kessler in the first half, age gap, general sleazy behavior, handjob, finger fucking, piv, pussy slapping, some just the tip action, blowjob, mentions of titfucking, degradation, general objectification, public sex, not proofread.

“Makes you realize men have nipples too.”

The bar is packed for a Wednesday night, but Butcher already knows exactly what Kessler is talking about. You’re a ditch lily, sitting tall in this shithole. He turns his head away, pretends he doesn't see the way you lick up a trail of spilled cosmopolitan from the side of your glass, pink tongue parting your lips, eyes half-shut. 

Fucking typical. Kessler could sniff out daddy issues and sadness from a mile away, and he was lethal at half that distance. He could have them wrapped around his finger in the time it took Butcher to take a piss.

His eyes linger. A thing like you doesn't belong in a dump like this. This is the sort of place girls like you stumble into at 1 AM, survey the crowd through the haze of cigarette smoke, and wobble right back out onto the streets, take your chances with the elements rather than the haggard, unfriendly crowd that hunches over their drinks.

Butcher likes Midwest 10's. Begs Kessler to stop ogling barely legal co-eds, says he's not some sleazy cunt in a John Hughes film. He can lie all he wants. If it makes him hard, it makes Butcher hard. 

He glances sidelong at your face. You've got this Christmas-light bright smile that makes his dick jerk. Kessler’s more than under his skin. He’s in his veins, in the same blood that raises his cock up like a goddamn bicycle pump when you lean over the bar, arms squeezing your tits together.

"You could probably fuck 'em." Kessler tips his head to the side, eyes locked on your cleavage. His eyes narrow, lips pursed, evaluating your chest and charting a course for his dick to travel.

"Shut up."

"Huh?"

Fuck. Your tip your head to the side from two seats away, brows pinched together. Cute, in a lost little lamb kind of way.

Butcher's eyes cut to Kessler. He's cocked it all up now. The sly, punchable grin on Kessler’s face turns him back to his drink. He drains his glass and gestures for another. If he doesn’t look at you, if he keeps drinking, this all goes away.

"Nothin'. Don't you worry about it, love."

That should be the end of it, but you’ve clearly got something wrong with you. You fiddle with your purse, pluck up your courage, and drop yourself onto the barstool next to him. Whether you’ve got no sense of self-preservation or you’re just that damn oblivious, he doesn’t intend to get to know you well enough to find out. Butcher's strained smile doesn't do much to smooth the worry lines away.

Kessler chuckles, leans back and props his elbows up on the bar. Cunt just wants to watch him squirm.

"No," Kessler corrects, drawing the word out. "I want you to get some pussy."

His eyes dart over to Kessler, looming over you, hands ghosting up your arms to squeeze your shoulders. He blinks rapidly, rubs at his face, tries to play it off like he's nervous or tired or whatever the fuck but when he looks down, there's your tits again. Butcher lolls his head back to the ceiling. Laugh it up, you fuckin’ cunt.

And Kessler does. Makes a show of slapping his hand on his thigh, head knocked back, grinning toothily.

He tries to ignore you, but you’re straddling that stool next to him in your little skirt and ordering another cosmo. This isn’t the kind of bar for cocktails, and he knows without even seeing the bartender’s eye roll that he hates you.

It's none of his business. He ought to keep himself sat there drowning in his drink ‘til last call and past that, make them throw him out on the street, give him a reason to swing first. It's a better idea than messing with you.

The bartender drops your drink off in front of you and turns before the words ‘thank you’ leave your glossy lips. Another sickly pink cocktail with a dried out lime dropped on top. Butcher can’t help himself. He’s got a soft spot for the clueless.

“Cheery bloke, isn't he?” He says, casting a sidelong glance at the bartender. He taps a finger against the bartop, inclines his head toward your cocktail. “That the only drink you know the name of?”

Your cheeks warm. You hide it behind a hand, turning your face away from him to laugh.

“What? No. I just think they taste good.”

Kessler snorts. “That’s a fat load of shit.”

Butcher agrees. His mouth twists into a half-hearted smile. He slides his glass over to you. 

“Try it,” he insists.

There’s hardly a passing thought for your own safety. You look between his scotch and his face and seem to decide it’s safe to take drinks from strange old fucks in bars. Your fingers brush his when you take the glass, warm and soft - sticky. You must be more sloshed than you look, must keep spilling your drinks. Hell, for all he knows, maybe this place does make the best cosmo in the city. Maybe the bartender just hates your ass because you keep making a mess.

You don’t even ask what he’s drinking. (Maybe this is all a grift, he thinks. Kessler’s at his ear, chuckling - she ain’t bright enough for that.) You lift his glass and leave your lipstick behind.

“Oh my god.” You sputter, pound a fist against your chest. It makes your tits bounce. Fucking miracle your shirt is containing those things. “That tastes like ass.”

“That is the highest quality scotch this bar serves.”

“It tastes like someone put a cigarette out in a glass of whiskey.”

“It’s a shit bar.”

You laugh, head tipped back, nose scrunched - the works. You’re too tipsy for it to be on purpose. Being cute comes naturally to you. Must be how you’ve made it this far.

You pass his drink back and scoot your cosmo closer to you, spilling it as the glass skips over the pock-marked countertop. Butcher snorts, dabs it up for you with his sleeve. He’s starting to think his theory about the cosmopolitans might hold true.

“Well, here, a trade’s a trade.” He takes your drink by the stem (fucking amazed they even have martini glasses in this place) and pounds back a mouthful.

It isn’t that bad, but he makes a show of scrunching his nose and shaking his head. He slides your drink back over to you and mirrors the way you had clung to your drink.

“You’re kidding,” you laugh. “It’s better than yours. I don’t know how you drink that.”

“I’ll keep my liquid ashtray, thanks.”

Your eyes are all lit up when you smile, but it emphasizes the raw edges, the puffiness that lingers. Rough night for you, by the looks of it. Not like he’s having much of a better one.

There’s no harm in it. No harm in showing you what a proper drink tastes like, broadening your horizons and helping you both forget what a shit hand you’ve been dealt. He buys you a drink on the condition that you try something that isn’t a cosmopolitan. You can hardly stomach a whiskey and coke. He orders you a fernet and coke for shits and giggles, expects you to spit it out like all the rest, barks out a laugh when you declare it’s tasty, notes of lavender drawing you in. Notes of lavender - Christ, what fucking suburb did you pop out of? 

He introduces you to more drinks, leans closer with each empty glass. You're new here, you tell him. You tell him your name, too, not that he remembers. Got stood up on some shitty date. He knows it’s got to be shitty because what idiot in his right mind would take you here, of all places?

By the time he orders you both shots of Rumple Minze, you’re pressed shoulder to shoulder. Your hand splays against his chest, head leaning against him. You lift his shot to his lips for him and he’s too drunk to find it childish and irritating. He downs it and does the same for you, watches you extend that pretty neck to drink it down.

“I’ll get you a cab,” he slurs, rocking unsteadily to his feet.

“I already called an Uber.”

Jesus. It’s a struggle not to roll his eyes. Fucking kids. Allergic to one night stands, couldn’t take a hint to save their life. Even Kessler is on his side, his head thunking against the bartop.

It's for the best, he thinks, trying to curb his disappointment. He's got shit to do. Ryan to worry about. Kessler's a right cunt, pushing him to you. He hasn't got the time to be fucking about. This entire thing had been a waste of time, too busy trying to get his dick wet to make the most of what he’s got left.

Butcher stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat, steps back, ready to split and stumble his way back home. He nods quick and sharp, tight-lipped smile to keep his frustration locked behind his teeth.

You show him your phone, make him squint to see what he’s supposed to be looking at. “My Uber is still a couple minutes away, so…”

Kessler picks his head up from the bar. He's a bloodhound for pussy. He picks up the leading edge in your voice before Butcher’s even done parsing your words.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Kessler drones. “You can’t even get it up, can you?”

“I’m damn well going to try.”

“What?” You laugh, swaying on your feet.

Butcher wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you against his side. “Nothin’. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll keep you company. Make sure no nasties try to get you.”

The cold outside is bracing. You wrap your arms tight around yourself and this time Butcher’s too drunk to pretend he isn't staring at the way your tits press together.

It’s your idea. Really. The way you look up at him, the way your lips stay parted while the pair of you pace the sidewalk. You wrap your hand around his bicep and squeeze, eyes drifting slowly to the side, to the alleyway just a few strides away.

See? It’s your idea, honest. He drags you behind a dumpster, pins you to the wall of the alley, and shoves his tongue down your throat, yeah, but you moan so fucking loud and drag him closer. It takes longer than he'd like for your hand to stop massaging his chest and start fondling his cock, but you're a sweet girl - don't seem the type to do this too often. Need some guidance.

Butcher lays his hand atop yours, wraps your fingers tighter around his bulge. Your breath hitches, your eyes flicking down to your hand, mouth popped open - got this sweet, vacant little look in your eye.

He'd bet real money you go dumb for cock.

“$50 says you can get her to call you ‘daddy’,” Kessler pipes up, leaning against the wall next to you. He tips a cigarette into his mouth, cups a hand around to light it, and Butcher swears the light from his zippo gleam in your eyes. He doesn’t doubt it. Seems cruel, though, especially when he can’t remember your name.

“What was your name again?”

It takes a bit for you to get dick off your mind and fish around for your name. You mumble, make him lean in close and tilt his head to get you to say it again, clearer.

You're the obedient sort. Pick up on cues so easy. Don't even make him ask for it again. He pats your cheek, smirk creasing his face.

By your side, Kessler flashes a crisp $50. He plucks it taut, fans himself with it, makes a real show of being a dick while you try to take Butcher's out of his pants.

At the end of the day, 50 quid is 50 quid.

“How ‘bout you ask daddy for permission, sweetheart?”

Your mouth moves wordlessly.

“Please?”

He clicks his tongue. “That’s real polite. But it ain’t what I asked for, is it?”

“Can I please play with your cock, daddy?”

“Better.”

Kessler slips the fifty into Butcher’s coat pocket while you fumble with his belt and free him from his pants. You lay his cock in the seam of your hands, cupping him like he’s a gift on two legs. You stroke him reverently, look up at him with big, thoughtless lamb eyes.

Your heart’s in it, but you’re too reserved for his taste. He grips your hand in his and guides you down his cock, shows you when to squeeze, when to twist your wrist, how to flick your thumb over the slit of his tip.

He can never make it last when he drinks. Should have warned you before he came on your pretty skirt, but you’ve got a natural talent for stroking dick. He keeps his groan locked up tight. It rattles through his chest and he leans into you, crushing you against the wall of the alley. His hips stutter and rut into your hand, still wrapped around him, coaxing every drop from his tip. You still toy with him while he tries to catch his breath. He’s got to push away from you with a mumbled “Christ, all right, that’s enough.”

It’s like he’s taking your favorite toy away. You pout up at him, hand still molded for his cock by your side, by the skirt his ruined with his cum. He almost gets an apology out, but you drag a finger through his mess and bring it to your lips, make a show of licking it up.

His chest aches. He isn’t sure if it’s the tumor or his heart desperately trying to pump enough blood down to his dick to get him up again.

Butcher crams two fingers into his mouth and scrapes the dirt from beneath his nails with his teeth. The rest is a blur. He knows that he kicks your feet apart, traces your slit through your panties before he pushes them to the side and finger fucks you until your head snaps back against the wall. It’s quick, messy - leaves his forearm soaked. He’s not so sure that was real, but he’s too drunk to figure it out, too gone ask.

He tucks himself back into his pants. You set your panties back in place, skirt still hiked up to your ribs. You slip a little lower down the wall, panting. He stops you before you can slip all the way down, pats your cunt, and tugs your skirt back into place.

“Let’s get you a cab, eh?”

That’s the last thing he remembers clearly. You’d missed your Uber, had to take a cab with him anyway. He remembers you leaning against him, tucked up against his side, hand stroking his chest. He’d pet your hair - soft as lamb’s wool - and whispered nonsense against your head just to get a laugh out of you. After you get out, the whole thing’s blank.

When Butcher wakes up at 2 PM the next day, choking on his own vomit, he can't find the 50 quid. He turns his jacket inside out searching for it. A scrap of paper with your number scrawled on it falls from his jacket pocket. He doesn’t spare it more than a glance and keeps digging for his wallet.

Lambs lose their appeal after the flying cunts nearly bit his cock off.

That farm had been dirty business. Wicked stuff, the kind that doesn't wash off. This work always has been, but this time the blood doesn't come out from under his fingernails. He tastes bile every time he breathes. The copper twang of blood trickling down the back of his throat is the only chaser he gets anymore.

He doesn't think of you often. He knows it'd break your little heart to hear it, have you looking up at him with those ‘fuck me, I'm sad’ eyes and that little girl pout that makes him feel every bit the lech he is. You’re a sweet thing. Vacant, just like him. It didn’t take long to piece that together.

You’re easy and malleable, quick to fit yourself around him in whatever way he demands. He liked that about you at first.

But when he calls on you at three in the morning for a quick lay and you answer the door in a full face of make-up, hair done and wearing the sort of nightgown that no one actually sleeps in, all he feels is distaste.

You let him crowd you against your couch (a neutral color, no blanket in sight, your living room just as blank as the rest of you) without so much as a ‘hello’. You hook a leg over his hip. No panties, he realizes, eyes locked on your drippy cunt, already flushed. Been touching yourself to the thought of this. He warms a little at the thought.

Butcher wedges his knee between your leg and grinds. Any warmth you’d kindled with wet pussy dissipates the moment you moan so goddamn loud, the sound hollow and plastic. He keeps his leg still, flexes his thigh for you to grind on. His jaw tightens. He nearly shoves his fingers in your mouth to keep you from making those stupid fucking noises.

You let him twist you up however he wants, more a posable toy than a person. He pushes you further along the couch until your back arches awkwardly against the arm. You don't protest. Of course you don't.

His thick fingers trail down your slit, part your slick folds for his inspection. He sways back on his haunches, admires the pretty way he's got you arranged, pinned open on his fingers for him.

He brings his hand down sharply on pussy once, twice - and the third time directly to your clit is just because you kept making that annoying fucking noise. That nasally, porn-star whine that drills him between the eyes and makes his hard-on flag. The way you twitch and jerk at each hit might be genuine but that fucking noise drives him up a wall. Christ, there's got to be something about you that's real.

Pussy’s real. Can’t fake that, he thinks.

“Stay right there,” he says, a bite to his voice when you try to shift against him again. If you could just lay there and take it - is that so much to ask for?

He guides himself to you, hips rocking experimentally. You suck his head in and his chin dips to his chest. He groans deep. It turns to a growl when you raise your hips. He lays his forearm against you, pressing you down - and that moan might have been real.

“Can't you do fucking anything right?” He snaps. His hips push forward, bullying himself deeper into you. You suck a breath through your teeth, your hand bracing against his forearm. “I told you to stay right there.”

A spark of indignation flickers in your eyes, flash-fire flushed out by the same pitiful little lamb wool you pull back over your eyes. Makes you look all downy, plush and fuckable - he's fished more respectable shits from the toilet.

You’re a good girl for a few more shallow thrusts, lay there just like he wants while he works himself to the hilt. He finds his rhythm sloppily, one knee propped on the couch, the other foot planted on the floor. Your tits bounce with every thrust and he’s stupid enough to take his hands off of you, trust you not to move while he gropes at your breast.

Immediately you rise to your elbows, try to arch your back deeper. He’s positive you’re trying to mimic some video, down to the exact angle of your spine, but your heart isn’t in it. His cock butts against your walls, shallower than before, the pleasure that had been tearing through his blood coming to a screeching halt. He hisses through his teeth, grinding out his frustration.

“Don't –” his shoves you back down, hand flattening against your cheek and pushing your face into the couch. Feels fucking awful any other position. “–fucking move. Don't fucking move. Trying to cum. Goddammit.”

Your hands curl into fists by your head. You hide your face, press it deeper into the cushion and he presses your face deeper to help you. The noise you make is pitiful, but at least it's real.

Fucking hell. Now he’s completely out of it. You’ve gone and fucked up pussy for him. He didn’t think that was possible. He can’t find the angle he needs, can’t get back to that gummy spot that make his vision blur.

He pulls out and flips you onto your stomach, ignoring the little whine you make. You don’t raise your hips - god forbid you take a fucking hint - so he sits you up for him and wedges his dick back in. It only takes a few thrusts for him to realize this is worse. Tighter, dry, chafing his dick like goddamn sandpaper.

“Your cunt shrivel up or something? Feels fucking terrible.”

He snatches your wrist, pulls your arm back at an angle that makes you cry out, and fills your palm with lube. Can't even get wet on your own. Fucking Christ, he's got to do everything for you. Even has to curl your fingers around his cock, drag your hand back and forth until you final get the big, swinging fucking hint and jerk him off.

He meant to stuff himself back into your cunt, but at this point your hand will do. Six one way, half a dozen the other. At least your hand doesn't chafe.

You’re silent now. Small mercies. The only sounds are the slick of your palm working him over and his labored breaths. Your hand is clumsy at this angle, but he’s not going to risk letting you move and fuck it all up again.

Once he’s close, he drops your hand and flips you onto your back again. A big hand presses your knees apart, opens you up for him. You're still so pliable, even if the sheen is gone from your cunt. You try to fix your hair. If he notices the tears brimming your eyes, he doesn't say anything.

He lines himself back up with your cunt, dragging himself through your folds. Your knees knock closer with each pass of his bright red tip over your clit. He taps it once with his cock, expecting another produced moan to rattle the walls, but you only whimper, your thighs trying to close around him.

Butcher smirks. He pumps himself into you, keeps himself shallow - just the tip past your puffy lips. 

You whimper, try to shuffle down and take more of him. Butcher’s hand grips your face, squishing your cheeks so hard it stings.

“Don't you fucking move,” he grits out. You used to take instruction so well. Now you've gotten all up in your own head. Nobody likes an uppity bitch, he ought to make you see that.

What he really ought to do is make you get down there and jerk him off. Your hand is still slicked, but you'd probably piss yourself at the chance. Instead, he pushes your knees damn near up to your ears and barks for you to hold your own legs. Your hands curl around the backs of your knees. There you go. Figuring it out again.

His hand strokes his dick quick and hard, one hand dedicated to keeping himself just inside you. It doesn't take long for him to cum. It’s a slow burn that seeps up through his belly, lattices up his ribs and congeals in his chest, makes him ache and cave over your body while his hips sputter. He squeezes himself dry, pumps his cum into your pussy until it flows past his tip and seeps down onto your couch. 

Butcher lingers over you, catching his breath. He’s already gone soft, his cock dropped out of you. He sits back against the opposite arm of the couch, splays himself out while you curl up.

Something burns in his chest - remorse, maybe. You’re all curled up against your couch, cheek cushioned on your arm - won’t look at him, don’t paw at him or lean against his side, don’t even reach to clean yourself up.

His head knocks back to the ceiling. He can’t be bothered to pull answers out of you. He reaches for the tissue box on your coffee table, plucks a handful, and cleans himself off.

He tosses the box back to the coffee table and shoves his boots back on, barely taking the time to lace them up properly. He scoops he coat up from where you’d shucked it onto the floor, buttons himself back up, and you still haven’t moved. His eyes linger on you for a moment, brow set low.

Can’t be bothered, he reminds himself. He runs a hand through his hair and makes for your door, boots thunking heavily against your floors.

“Can I see you again?”

You’ve managed to pick your head up when he glances back at you. You sound so desperate it's pitiful. His lip curls. He runs a hand over his head, looks anywhere but you.

Christ, even your apartment is blank and devoid of personality. He hadn't noticed it before, too consumed with the need to get between your thighs. He shrugs, and gives you a lifeless smile.

“We'll see.”

Butcher closes your door behind him and hurries down the hall. He turns the corner to see Kessler’s cheshire grin greeting him in the dark of your stairwell.

He ought to get right with you before his time comes. He isn't proud of the way things ended. Butcher’s a right bastard, but he isn't blind; he'd seen the look on your face, the hopeful shine in your eyes dulling when he'd left you there without so much as a ‘cheers, love, thanks for the rub’.

He doesn't bother texting you. He's already posted up outside your apartment. Giving you a heads up would only give him time to pussy out.

Besides, you're home. He knows it. You’re piss-easy to track. Home to work, work to home, same route, same time. It will be easy to knock on your door, get his closure, and slip out of your life for the last time.

It should be easy. He’s had harder conversations with people who meant more to him but he keeps staring at your door, trying to will himself to knock. He’s not that weak yet. He can still raise his hand.

Butcher turns to leave just as you open the door. His shoulders tense when you call out to him.

“Billy?” You blurt out. There’s genuine surprise there.

“I just thought I’d –” He turns to catch a glimpse of you and it sends him headlong into silence.

You look a right mess. No face isn’t done up, an oversized t-shirt draping off your shoulders. Your pajama pants are fluffy, snowflake print - tackiest thing he’s seen in a while. 

You duck your head down, trying to catch his eye. 

“You okay?” You hook your thumb over your shoulder. “Want to come in?”

He doesn’t. Not even a little. He wants to rip the band-aid off, forget he ever met you and let you get on with your life - whatever it is you do. But you step to the side and fix him with a weak little smile that he thinks might be real, and his feet take him in through the door.

It’s a nice place in the daytime, he realizes. Natural sunlight, open floorplan, your shelves crowded with plants and knick-knacks he’s never seen. You offer him a drink, laugh when he says water and fall quiet when he insists.

You hand him his drink and collapse onto your couch. Your legs kick up onto your coffee table, and for the first time he realizes your socks are fuzzy, too. He looks around, scans you from head to toe. Is this the right place? He keeps picking at his nails, trying to free the grime from under them.

Once you realize he’s baffled, you’re merciful enough to start the small talk. It’s awkward and stilted - his fault, his answers halting and quick. You give him grace, sip on your drink. Your laughs never quite reach your eyes, but you scoot closer to him on the couch anyway.

“Why are you really here, Billy?” Your hand settles on his thigh and curls inward.

It’s not how he wanted this to go, but he doesn’t stop you from sliding your hand higher while he chokes on his words. You’ve got his belt undone by the time he manages to string a sentence together.

“I've been a right cunt to you.”

“Mhm.”

“You don't got to put up with it, yeah?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Got your whole life right ahead of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

Fucking Christ, could you give him more than a noise? A few moments ago you’d held a conversation with him.

His irritation is snuffed out by your lips wrapping around the tip of his cock and sucking hard. Your hand pumps his shaft, twisting your wrist on the way back up. Good God, you learn quick.

Butcher could spoil you rotten if he had the time. He could get you whatever you wanted - if ever you wanted for anything. He cups a hand over the back of your head, encouraging, not guiding.

You’re methodical. You let your hand work what your mouth won’t reach, fondle his balls with the other one. It’s clinical. You’ve committed the moves to memory, when to swirl your tongue, hollow your cheeks, when to moan around him, when to look up at him with those tears straining at your waterline.

He finishes quick, his chest heaving. You pass him his water while you reach for a tissue box. He drains it and nearly misses you spitting his cum into a tissue, wadding it up and tossing it into the bin.

“I haven’t got much time left,” he says, breathless.

Your brow creases. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your lips swollen. “What?”

“I’ve got this –” he gestures nebulously with a hand, like he’s trying to pluck the right words out of the air. “– thing. In my brain, see? Inoperable. So, if I up and vanish on you, it ain’t personal.”

You stay silent, stone faced. He wishes you’d say something. Even one of the irritating platitudes people like to parrot would be better than this. Your eyes harden. You purse your lips, breathe deep, and stand from the couch.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, Billy. It was good to see you.”

Butcher’s still trying to catch his breath. He tucks himself back into his pants, a mess he’ll clean up later, and rises unsteadily. You don’t reach out to help. He makes another nebulous gesture towards you, his hand quivering.

“You want me to..?”

“Nah. Don’t strain yourself.”

He stuffs himself back into his coat, watching your eyes linger - maybe realizing for the first time how much slighter he’s looking. Butcher pats your cheek gently as he passes by.

You don’t ask to see him again. For your sake, he hopes this is the last time.

[jedi-enthusiast]

I'm gonna be so fr, the idea that "Anakin had no choice but to do what he did because the Jedi didn't allow marriage" is just...so fucking ridiculous

Anakin did have a choice.

Marry Padme or be a Jedi.

Simple.

If he decided to marry Padme and leave the Jedi, which would've been best for him imo, then there would've been zero repercussions.

We see multiple times that the Jedi let people leave for any reason, at any time---they don't try to make them stay, they don't ban them from coming back to the Temple or seeing their friends, and they don't even hold any ill will towards them! And Anakin would've been marrying a Senator and former Queen of Naboo, he would've had his every need and want met!

Anakin would've lived a very happy and cushy life, he just...wouldn't have been a Jedi.

If Anakin decided to leave Padme and stay with the Jedi, which I think he wouldn't have liked but whatever, then---again---there would've been pretty much no repercussions.

Would he be sad that he wasn't with Padme? Sure, Anakin doesn't really seem like the type to be able to forgo a relationship imo, but he would've gotten on just fine without her. He lived happily as a Jedi for 10 years, I can't imagine that it'd be all that difficult for him to do again---especially with the support of his fellow Jedi.

He, again, would've been happy, he just...wouldn't have married Padme.

The issue in all of this, the reason that the OT exists at all and the Empire rose to power, is that Anakin refused to choose. He was selfish and wanted to have everything, so he just lied to everyone and ignored the consequences of his actions until he couldn't anymore---at which point he murdered the Jedi, enslaved the clones, destroyed democracy, and pulled the galaxy into a dark age.

Anakin had a choice...he just chose to be selfish every chance he got---and no one is to blame for that except for him.

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

hey so i saw the despicable me 4 trailer and i have a very specific beef with it that's making me insane

so, like, disclaimer, i havent watched any of the minion cinematic universe movies since despicable me 2 came out... holy fuck eleven years ago, jesus christ. but anyway i'm probably gonna get minute details wrong but like hold with me a second

so idr when despicable me 2 takes place in regards to the first film. from what i remember, agnes was having issues with not having a conventional nuclear family for mother's day so this implies it's the first mother's day that the girls have had in gru's household. i'm pretty sure that the first movie took place during the summer-ish, and iirc the second movie is also summer (fitting with my "roughly may" estimate) so we'll say like eight-ish months have passed since the first film. no big deal, right?

so then at the end of the film gru and kristen wiig get married but the timecard states that it's "147 dates later." i doubt they went on a date every single day leading up to the wedding but if we're assuming the date list also covers the engagement and wedding prep period, that's at the VERY VERY least one-hundred and forty-seven days after the events of the film. so with the timeskip at the beginning, that puts us at well over a year since the first film, thirteen months minimum

okay so the third film from my research doesn't state how long it takes after the wedding. so again, let's be generous and say that it's not too long after. i'm pretty sure the film itself takes place over a couple of days so we'll ignore its place in the continuity for now. that brings us to movie number four, which just got a trailer and just revealed a new player in the game

so gru and kristen wiig have a new biological child. this kid is old enough to move and emote, which puts him at 7-12 months old if he's able to crawl. let's again be generous and say it's seven months. assuming that human reproduction works the same as it does in our universe, and again being generous as hell and assuming that lucy may have been pregnant through the third film or right after the wedding, we have to add nine months to all this. so from the first film, we have ~8 month timeskip, then a 147-day minimum timeskip, then let's say 16 months to get to the baby being able to crawl. again, this is absolute bare minimum, and we still get to a conclusion of it's been roughly 29 months since the first film, or 2.5 years.

so okay. two-and-a-half years since the first film.

so then why the everloving fuck are the girls the same. fucking. AGE??

how have these motherfuckers not aged a fucking day??? they haven't grown a goddamn inch. it should have been, again, 2.5 years minimum, more likely 3-4 years if we're being realistic.

and to double check my work, i went on the despicable me wiki and found that they also put movie 4 at a three-year timeskip from the first movie, specifically putting margo at 10 in the first movie and 13 in the fourth, edith at 8-11, and agnes at 5-8; their main source is margo being stated to be 12 in the third movie, and her sisters' relative ages being provided by tweet, so even then this is, again, bare minimum on timeskip. and not only have these motherfuckers not changed style one fucking time, but they haven't changed height, weight, anything. agnes has hit eight years old and is the same height as the tiny-ass fucking minions. edith's hat still fits. margo should be in high school and she looks the same as she did three goddamn years ago

what kind of motherfucking witchcraft is the gru family using to keep themselves young??? they said gru stopped being evil but are we sure there isn't some vampire blood rituals happening in the minion basement

make them a new character model. please god

[attineilde]

why neil josten is actually Y/N:

erm I accidentally wrote a few cringy wattpad paragraphs so uh-

he has big blue orbs

involved with the mafia ("what is this, mom?" I asked, trembling. the famous mafia gang leader, harry styles was sitting in my living room!)

gets noticed by a famous person KEVIN DAY (my best friend dragged me to this concert. something called... one direction? I'm not really sure, I'm not like other girls, always obsessing over boy bands. I like to spend time reading instead. so in the concert, I decided to read my favourite book and just ignore everything entirely. then, this amazingly buff, tall, dark, and handsome man smiled at me, showing off his dimples. "come on, darling, what's your name?")

mommy AND daddy issues ("I-I-I-I-I never had parents," Y/N told her cold alpha mafia boss.)

has trauma from a young age (when I was only 10 weeks old, my mother, my father, my grandmother, my grandfather, my sister, my brother, and my goldfish died in a plane crash)

he becomes more badass throughout the series ("Wow, Y/N, you're becoming more and more sigma," Jungkook the mafia boss said. "You were so skinny and fragile and petite, I never would've thought you were capable of being a muderer. You're such a baddie!" He exclaims with admiration.)

super multi-talented (even though I have a permanent stutter in my voice, I'm still a great singer. but I'm a really insecure petite girl, so I shyly sang a few notes to JungKook. "I-i-i-i-is it gwenchana oppa?" "Oh, yes, Y/N honey, you're voice is jinja good!")

has multiple men checking him out/appreciating his looks (andrew, nicky, and I bet kevin has too)

if you read all my little paragraphs I'm really proud of you! I hope you're gwenchana (this is all satire pls dont judge)

[zivazivc]

Did Les ever dated in the past? Also is he with anyone recently?

Les quit school really early, like 10-years-old early, and he started working soon after, so he didn't really have friends his age. That kinda puts a buffer on a teenager's social and love life. Though there was something that happened at a house party once, that was, uh... a bad experience, and it left him with a lot of issues. Also, partially because of this, he's not really someone who acts on his crushes. So he never dated before.

But at one point the band spent a few months in the same location (dunno the reason yet, but maybe they weren't getting enough gigs and they had to take up some part time jobs for a while), and Les developed a crush on a bartender at a nearby club.

She's the only OC of mine who's visually a bigger weirdo than Les, and he definitely saw a little bit of himself in her, and hoping for someone with some shared life experience, it's what initially attracted him toward her and vice versa.

So they had a thing going on for a short time. It never developed into anything serious because sadly they are very alike, which means they are BOTH morons who are shy about making the first move. And after a while they came to the agreement that they were better as just friends.

Floyd with his persistent crush was not happy about the possible romance at first, but he ended up being happy for Les, and he finally decided to give his hopeless longing a rest, since the only good it was doing was growing a rift between his and Les's friendship.

Funny enough it was Floyd backing down which allowed the two to grow closer. Les lowered his guard since he no longer had to overthink if Floyd would interpret anything he did or said as some kind of flirting or act of love, and he no longer had to brace himself for any uncomfortable romancing coming from Floyd either.

They were already good friends since the start but they became much more casual with each other and began to understand each other on a deeper level as years passed. As Floyd got older and more mature, and became an equal with the rest of the bandmates, it was actually Les who fell for him, hard. He didn't really do anything about it though, but Floyd eventually realized this and you know he did something about it. Though Floyd's crush had gone from looking at Les as this cool experienced older guy when he was younger to now seeing him as a shy innocent teddy bear compared to his lewd self ksjhdkjs.

So technically they became each other's first proper all-encompassing relationship. And by that I mean that besides the lovey-dovey obvious stuff, they were also best friends and helped each other grow a lot. Also Floyd by the time they got together, already started a habit of hooking up with strangers at parties, so being with Les forced him to slow down and progress through a relationship slowly and at a healthy pace for someone his age (since you can't really get anywhere with Les without a lot of patience). And Floyd got Les to become comfortable with opening up and talking about his deep-rooted feelings. They talked about issues they faced, many of which were related to Les's childhood trauma, instead of him just ignoring or suppressing it all. (Floyd also opened up about his own family trauma with Les obviously, but he talked about it even before they got together.)

The relationship, especially at the start, could still be considered questionable from an outsider's perspective, but so was the band's lifestyle in general. They were good for each other during that period while they were growing up and figuring themselves and each other out, which is what matters I think.

It was honestly mainly Floyd's undiagnosed bipolar disorder that made the relationship suffer toward the end of Floyd's days in the band. It created a lot of trust issues between Floyd and Les, and also Floyd and everyone else, heck it even made Floyd distrust himself, since he and none else knew or understood what was happening with him. This led to a lot of misery and anger that he mostly ended up directing at Les, and it was what eventually made them break up and Floyd leave.

[weird-obsessed-girl]

Bagginshield Fic Rec

I can’t believe I’ve had such an intense revival into The Hobbit Fandom after being obsessed with the movies when they came out just over 10 years ago now. There’s just some fandoms that have consistently amazing fanfics that are written beautifully and with such interesting concepts.

Some of these are a bit silly and cracky but i think that’s the appeal of The Hobbit, it’s a bit more cheerful than LOTR (vehemently ignoring Battle of the Five Armies)

So below is a list of fics I have loved reading organised by word count smallest to largest.

If you have any fics that you’ve read and don’t see here please share them with me! P.S, if you need more fics to read after these please check out the author’s other works.

Fanfiction Title - Author

Tags, description of fic | word count | rating

And Down the Road I Goes - pibroch (littleblackdog)

Kid!fic, mpreg, humour, dwobbits, beard problems | 1.3k | T

All That Glitters - BeautifulFiction

Everyone lives, post-BAFTA, Dwarven culture and customs, Dwarven jewellery | 1.5k | G

Truth - alkjira

Body image issues, post-BAFTA, everybody lives, Dwarven beauty standards | 1.9k | T

Brethren, Braids and a Bothersome Burglar - Frankensteins_Monster

Unintentional Dwarven courting, and then intentional after communication is cleared up, Hair Braiding | 2.3k | T

There is A Child - smileybagel

Foresight, canonical character death, Thorin POV | 2.7k | T

Of the King and Consort’s Portraits - undomiel (dolcewrites)

Cultural differences, painting portraits, Erebor and Shire Parallels, domestic fluff | 3.4K | T

Shorn - Avelera

Mourning ritual, Dwarf culture and customs, misunderstandings, pre-slash, Long-beards mentioned! 3.5k | G

A Chance to Make It Right - smileybagel

Thorin is offered a second chance, magical dreams of future children, second part to “There is A Child” | 3.6k | G

The Proper Way To Call You Mine - Fantasyinallforms

Hair braiding, post-BAFTA, misunderstandings, Fili and Kili meddling, getting together, jealous Thorin | 3.6k | T

And in our love u see golden things - Seungshi03

Goldsickness as a mental health condition, domestic fluff, consort Bilbo | 3.7k | G

Riddles in the Dark Brought into the Light - Lucigoo89

Everyone lives, post-BAFTA, PTSD, loooove fics where the trauma from the journey is included, background Dwalin/Nori | 3.8k | G

In More than the Wisdom of Years - jezebel_rising

Dis POV, everyone lives, reunions, Dis and Bilbo friendship | 4.2k | Not rated

A Dwarven Beauty - bevel_bee

Dwarven beauty standards, Bilbo is considered very attractive, but he’s very oblivious to the compliments, post-BAFTA | 4.6k | G

The Seven Gifts - snowmissus (soul_of_blaze)

Dwarf and hobbit courting, awkwardness, Bilbo remains in Erebor, miscommunication | 5.1k | G

The Stone’s Gift - SilverSkiesAtMidnight

Established relationship, consort Bilbo, “the Dwarven equivalent of cabbage patch hobbits”, dwarves made from literal stone, unplanned pregnancy | 5.2k | T

One Remedy for Gold Sickness (or maybe two) - randi2204

Bilbo uses an ancient hobbit remedy for greedy folks, flabbergasted dwarves | 5.8k | T * need to have an Ao3 account

Better an ugly face than an ugly mind - unpeumacabre

Dwarven beauty standards (and hobbit ones), Thorin POV | 6.1k | T

A Minor Problem - fideliant

Smut, thorin finds out Bilbo’s age, obliviousness to different species’ life expectancies | 6.4K | E

Bruises on the Heart - thehufflepuffhobbit

5 + 1 times, soulmate au, Thorin POV, bruises, sharing a bed, during the journey | 7.8k | E

Clue-finder - TheGrayKnight

Post-BAFTA, Dwarven courting, cultural differences | 9k | G

Queen Under the Mountain - benny_Laur

Character death (not really), Dis POV, I LOVE DIS, Requited love, Kili definitely should not be in charge of communications | 11k | Not rating

Call You Home - northerntrash

Hobbit culture, including hidden names (I like the hobbit side as it’s a popular trope that dwarves have hidden names), Thorin’s puppy-eyes, the company | 11.9K | Not rated

Planting a Hobbit - northerntrash

Everyone lives, post-BAFTA, homesickness, domestic fluff, Thorin builds Bilbo a garden trope! 13k | Not rated

Forget-Me-Not - kerkusa, LordOfTheRazzles

Established relationship, post-BAFTA, healing Thorin causes temporary amnesia, Dwarf and Hobbit courting (again) | 14k | G

Defying Death (or at least the ones in charge) - Lucigoo89

I have yet to read this yet but it looks very promising! Bilbo has died and now it’s time for him to smuggle himself into Mahalia Halls to see his love again | 15.1k | T

Ere Break of Day - alexaprilgarden

During the journey, falling in love, Dwarven Ones, soulmates, everyone lives, angst | 15.6k | E

The Different Shades of Bilbo’s Love - SunnyRose

Kid Bilbo wants to be friends with Thorin, consenting adult romance later on, friends to lovers, flower language, Belladonna Took! 17.5k | G

I have loved you and you have not known it - KaavyaWriting

Miscommunication, the company come up with a way of making friends with a hobbit that is inaccurate, jealous Thorin, during the journey | 17.7k | G

You Got Me - drunkonwriting

Company-centric, dwarf culture, fluff, during the journey, friendship fic | 18.9k | G

Gardening - The Feels Whale (miscellea)

Bilbo returns to Shire, Kid!fic, cabbage patch hobbits, Bilbo’s under the impression Thorin died (he’s wrong) | 19.7k | T

My Princess, My Love, Marry Me! - mordelle

Alt universe, Princess Thorin visits the Shire, pinning Bilbo, Thorin is considered ugly by Dwarven beauty standards, smut | 36.3k | E

[jaegerisim]

Vent post y'all are gonna hate me for.

I viscerally hate how the Duffers treat most of their non white or queer characters and I hate even more viscerally, how y'all big byler blogs in your circle jerk of other 5 big byler blogs casually like to ignore many red flags the show has.

Y'all like to say: "tHe DufFeRs ArE gReAt WrIteRs" and it's like girl, who are you lying to??? They aren't top shit writers at all. The Duffers are pretty mid imo. Yeah, they run a good show that's fun to watch and theorize abt , but that doesn't mean they're good writers cuz they're not.

1. they completely side lined Will during s3 for the sake of their straight romances: lumax, jancy, mlvn, duzie and partly stobin (even if stobin wasn't endgame, thankfully, Steve's intentions were clearly wanting to date Robin and they gave it a lot of screen time). Will was sidelined bc he didn't fit the straight romance plotline bc they planned to make him gay or whatever. Now in s4 Will and his feelings have been used as mlvn toilet paper. Yes, we like to say this is build up for byler but canonically, Will's feelings have been used to clean the shit mlvn leaves behind.

2. Billy was sympathized a lot during the last 2 seasons. They gave him the sad backstoryTM in order for ppl to feel sorry for him. Billy's backstory is literally Jonathan's but whatever.

3. El's anger issues are constantly girlboss-ified. They down play her bullying situation and literally just use it for El to be a ''girlboss" without realizing how triggering that is. As someone who has lived bullying, seeing it be ignored by canon and fanon is super sad. The whole Rink-O' Mania experience must have been so traumatizing for her yet, everyone absolutely forgets abt it 🤷🏻‍♀️

4. Robin, Erica and Argyle are stereotypical characters. Robin is the quirky lesbian with social anxiety, Erica is the badass black woman and Argyle is the Latino stoner that sells weed to white kids and works as a pizza delivery guy.

5. Altho Argyle and Eddie both do drugs, (Eddie actually sells K-12 to a minor and nobody batted an eye. He has a huge fan base). Eddie is held in a pedestal bc "poor thing 🥺 he lives in a trailer with his uncle 🥺". Tell me a single fact you know abt Argyle that isn't "he smokes weed", "he is Jonathan's only friend", "drives a van" and "he works at a pizzeria". Exactly, Eddie is given a useless backstory and Argyle isn't.

6. Dustin stopped being important to the plot sometime around s2 and s3. He is only there to curse and be mildly funny. My guy needs to hangout with ppl his age cuz he only hangs out with seniors.

7. El needs to stop having so much "I'M THAT BITCH" screentime like I need in s5 for El's arc to not just be her becoming more powerful and falling in love with Mike. I need the Duffers to explore her trauma and problems.

8. Angela should have been run over by the van.

9. Patrick should have been given a backstory that isn't the basic "strict black parents that hit their kids cuz they are a disgrace". Patrick's backstory is actually racist af, fight w the wall.

10. As Lex already said, they didn't trigger tag the ep where Jason and his friends assault Lucas and Erica. Like wtf? Why was that necessary? Why did I have to see a black boy being held at gunpoint by some white guy?? Was it relevant to the plot?? I don't think so. And then I've got to see ppl online be like "Jason wasn't that bad. He was just mourning" like bitch you can stfu. This is what happens when you make the racist assholes conventionally attractive.

Also the fact that Lucas's arc is fulfilled by him fist-fighting Jason and "embracing his weirdness" aka accepting he is black. His arc was not fulfilled at all cuz that ending spoke so loud to me. It showed how little empathy ppl have towards the struggles poc ppl living in the Midwest have. Y'all circle jerks can only see racism when it's super obvious.

Furthermore, parents complained when ST showed "an excessive amount of smoking" yet nobody batted an eye when Billy tried to run over Lucas, when Erica (an 11 y.o ffs) was chased by white kids or when Lucas was held at gunpoint by Jason.

All of this happened while they focused on Max's guilt and mourning that, yeah, are important but certainly not less important than racism!!!

11. In s3, they gave us that whole Nancy vs The Bigots arc that was honestly just triggering and useless. It didn't help Nancy's character at all, quite the opposite it put unnecessary angst.

12. Lonnie being presented as an abuser just for him to never be spoken of again. Can we please get to explore the trauma he left the Byers's with?

13. The fact that both queer relationships are considered "sloppy seconds" is extremely sad. Both Vickie and Mike are rebounding from their failed relationship with Robin and Will. These 2 ships have caused more commotion than Jancy and Jopper together! (These last ships are technically sloppy seconds too but everybody forgets that. Shocker!!)

14. Last but not least, ppl blame Argyle for being the one to get Jonathan into smoking weed as if Jonathan probably wasn't the one looking for it. Let me tell you, that you only find weed if you look for it.

[kookslastbutton]

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) l ch. VI

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6,192

Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), kook gets pissed, jk mother is asdhjf!, mommy issues, lots of family drama/in-laws, fighting, manipulative parent, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, jk being good hubby to oc, mild sexting, sexual content

Sexual warnings: bl*wj*b, jk c*mes on her t*tt*es, d*rty talk

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: um so this got over 6k which i know isn't amazing but for me its big deal okay?! haha! Anyway Part VI here we go! No flashbacks in this chapter because of ch.V buuut, I have a little gift for you and me. Hope you enjoy!! 💞 also pls vote if youd be so kind 😙

<< ch. V ༓ ch. VII >> | series masterlist

Living in the country for over thirty years, the Jeons were known to be excruciatingly slow and cautious drivers. The town was tiny, roads were narrow, and no one was ever in a rush to get anywhere apart from maybe the farmers market.

Once when Jungkook first got his license he took one hand off the steering wheel and his mother almost had a heart attack, saying it was “reckless of him to put them in danger”. It was from that moment forward that Jungkook always made sure to drive at 10 and 2 or 9 and 3 when his mother was in the car. His father on the other hand didn’t care what he did as long as he didn’t go above 30 mph.

Jungkook was counting his lucky stars when he finally got his own car and the chance to move to the city where he could drive how he damn well pleased–responsibly of course. He had recently finished his Master’s studies and was offered a job as an economist in a major medical corporation. The only catch was that he’d have to relocate to Seoul which ended up being more than fine with him.

His parents moaned and groaned that he wasn’t sticking around but his mind was made up. He moved out of his parent’s tiny town one late June and headed to the city where life moved to a whole new beat.

Ten years later, Jungkook finds himself gripping the steering wheel with two sweaty hands again. Kudos to his parents who have been telling him which way to turn and how fast or slow to go for the past fifteen minutes. He honestly should have picked a brunch spot closer to home to avoid all the madness. Walking would have done them good.

“I’ll never get used to how you drive down here,” Mrs. Jeon grumbles from the back seat. “All these sharp turns and six lanes of traffic going 50-plus miles an hour. It’s a wonder you haven’t all gotten in an accident yet. It’s like I always say, the slower the better. You city folks just don’t get it.”

Jungkook peers in his rearview mirror before signaling to switch lanes. “We can’t afford to go too slow out here Mom. This is a highway and dropping down in speed will cause a safety hazard just as bad, if not worse. Environments are different out here than in the woods.”

As Jungkook merges to the right, Mr. Jeon watches the surrounding cars from the back seat window. “Ah son, son, son!” He hollers and reaches for the ceiling handle.

“What? What happened?” Jungkook asks with panic. He flickers his eyes to the mirror again to spot his father's distress.

Mr. Jeon slowly releases the handle and lets out a lengthy sigh. “It's okay now, we’re good. You did good son. You moved over with so little space I thought you were going to hit the car now behind us."

"I told you it's a mad house out here!" Mrs. Jeon adds, tone thick. Jungkook puts his eyes back on the road in front of him and does his best to ignore the irritation bubbling within him.

"I know what I'm doing," he says. "I've lived here for ten years so can you guys please trust me? And stop with the driving advice and yelling every time I do something."

"We're just trying to help Kookie."

"Well, you're not alright?" The snap in his voice has Jungkook's parents sulking back in their seats in silence. "I want us to get to the restaurant safely and I can't do that when you're both shouting at me! So please just let me do the driving. Thank you."

God, if one more person calls him Kookie in that condescending tone he's going to lose it! Kookie was his childhood nickname but for some reason, it stuck to him like glue until he was friggin' 22 years old. He absolutely hates it and the only person remotely allowed to call him by it is his wife because she makes anything sound like honey to his ears.

The next five minutes are nothing but awkward silence and the sound of tires running on hard cement. Jungkook checks his phone—there's still a good ten minutes left according to the GPS. He moves to turn the radio on to break the eeriness of the drive when an incoming call pops on his car screen.

"Who's that? Who's calling?" Mr. Jeon pipes up.

"It's __." Jungkook hits the answer button. "Hey honey! You're on speaker." He smiles a big, wide grin that says nothing less than he misses you.

"Hi! I'm on my lunch break and thought I'd give you guys a call. I'm stopping at the grocery store tonight, after work. Anything you need?"

“Some booze would be nice!” Mr. Jeon echos and looks at his wife who merely shakes her head. He hasn’t had a drink in twenty years due to his high blood pressure, yet he’s still making the same damn jokes. “Got any Soju? Or maybe Bokbunja?” He chuckles at Mrs. Jeon’s sour face.

Jungkook pays his dad no mind and replies to you. “Uhm….we're low on milk again. I drank the last one yesterday.”

"You went through all those gallon jugs in a week?!" You'd think you'd be used to the amount of dairy your husband packs away but every time, it shocks you as much as the first. You married a milk-lovin’ machine.

Jungkook chuckles. "I'm sorry. I can get them for you if you want. We're on our way to get brunch, then hitting the bookstore for Dad, and after we'll swoop back home. I can pick it up along the way.”

“No need, I’m already going out later so I’ll get it. Anything else?”

“There’s nothing else I can think of. How’s work going?” He’s hoping it’s not hectic given the fact that last week was an absolute sandstorm. He distinctively remembers you coming home with nothing more than tired feet and dark circles under your eyes. He drew you a bath that night.

“Eh, so-so. I have a meeting with my boss later but besides that, it’s the usual. I wish I could have come to brunch with you guys. I feel bad I’m missing it.” Well, you do and you don’t. If Jungkook was planning on talking to his mom about the happenings of last night you wanted to be around for support but it was also a matter that should be between a mother and her son.

“Us too, but we’ll see you ton–shit!” Jungkook slams on the break when he sees he’s about to crash into a black SUV. Everyone’s seatbelts lock at the sudden jerk. “Sorry, sorry!” He checks the mirror to find his parents clinging to their seatbelts.

“Are you guys okay?! Jungkook?!”

He scans all around him to find rows and rows of cars all trying to merge into each other’s lanes. Some are coming from the exit nearby whereas others are trying to squeeze through people in hopes to get ahead.

Dammit, Jungook cruses to himself.

“Yeah, we’re good honey. Everything’s okay but we’ve hit a traffic jam. I’m not sure why since it’s literally 11:40 a.m on a Wednesday but looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a bit.”

“We’d never have this problem at home.” Jungkook hears his mother mumbling under her breath to which his father replies with a nodding of his head. “If it weren’t for all this nonsense we’d be there by now.”

“Absolutely. We’d be there fifteen minutes ago,” his father adds with his hands in the air. “Isn’t there some kind of way you can get around this son, like a shortcut?”

Ah yes, shortcuts on the highway. Why didn’t he think of that? Let him just push the button that says flight mode and–no! Having enough, Jungkook holds his foot on the break and twists his body around to face his parents.

“Alright listen to me right now. This is not Tiny Town where there are a million dirt roads that pop from anywhere and all seem to lead to one other. Everyone drives at least seventy out here and that’s just the way it is because this..." He gestures outside the windshield. "This is what happens! We all get stuck in this congested funnel! But if you two can think of a way to get out of here that doesn’t involve attempting to bulldoze other cars, I’m all ears. Until then we’re going to sit here and talk about the weather because there's nothing else we can do!"

Jungkook looks back and forth between his parents. Mrs. Jeon simply stares outside her window while his dad gives a slow nod in understanding.

"Is it really that bad?"

Jungkook relaxes his body back to face the front when he hears your voice. "Yeah, it's pretty bad __." He lets out a long, exasperated sigh. This is going to be a very long day.

"Nice out today. Mind if I roll down the window?" The traffic hasn't got any better and it was starting to get stuffy in the car. Mr. Jeon desperately needed some fresh air in his face.

"Mhm yeah, go ahead."

"How about some music? Find out what's on the radio will you." He sticks his arm out the window, letting the gentle breeze hit his skin. When the first song blares through the speakers, Jungkook's mother breaks her deafening silence.

"Dear god! What music is this?"

Mr. Jeon immediately perks up. "It's PSY! Turn it up! Turn it up, boy!" Jungkook appeases his father's wishes and turns the knob a few more notches. "Oppa Gangnam Style! Eae eae eae e, sexy lady!"

Hearing his dad singing at the top of his lungs has Jungkook rubbing the side of his head. It's not that he sounded bad but he was singing so loud that everyone around them started pointing, laughing, or rolling up their own windows. "Dad, people are going to get annoyed. Take it down a little."

Deeply immersed in the song, Mr. Jeon continues singing regardless of his son's request. "Op, op, op, op, oppa Gangnam Style!" He starts rocking in his seat which causes a few middle schoolers in the car next to them to pop out their phones.

"Dad!" Jungkook hollers when he notices the kids taking pictures. If doesn't put an end to this now, his father's face is going to be trending all over the internet with god knows what filter.

"Op, op, op, op, on on on on!"

"Dad stop!" He tries again, this time turning the music down. Mrs. Jeon attempts to calm her husband down too, placing a hand on one of his arms but it doesn't take much for it to be ripped out of her grasp. Mr. Jeon ends up nearly whacking his wife in the face due to all his energetic dancing.

"Erotic sexy lady! Oppa Gangnam Sty–hey! Song wasn't done yet!" Jungkook's dad never looked so offended in his life. If he had adjusted his gaze just a few inches to the left he'd see the group of kids, the ones taking photos earlier, giggling to one another. But he was too pissed at his son for crashing his party that it went to the wayside.

"Honey, you were causing a disturbance," Mrs. Jeon says.

"A disturbance? In this traffic jam, I'm the disturbance?" He refuses to believe he's the annoyance when they've been in the middle of a highway, moving at 5 mph for the last hour. PSY has recently become his favorite singer and not enjoying himself would have been an absolute tragedy in his opinion. "It's all of you who should be thanking me for offering some shred of entertainment at times like these."

"The entire population of South Korea is going to be thanking you then." Jungkook creeps forward as soon as the car in front of him moves up a ways. Finally moving again, he hums.

"Hey!" An abrupt voice calls from a slight distance. Two teenage boys pull up in a Jaguar, greasy grins on their faces. "Great singing Grandpa! Really know how to move!" The one in the passenger seat flashes his phone playing a video of Jungkook's dad online.

"Wha–how–What?! You delete that right now!" Mr. Jeon is stunned, tripping over his words at the shock of himself actually being the center of the internet. The video is unexpectedly clear.

"Just ignore them, Dad." Jungkook rolls up all the windows in the car and inches up the best he can to get the teenagers out of direct sight.

"But-but how did they do that so fast? It hasn't even been five minutes yet!"

"It only takes seconds, honey," Mrs. Jeon sighs, realizing her husband has become famous over a re-rendition of a PSY song. Of all things, it had to be that.

"I'm starving."

"Me too."

Jungkook glances at the time–2:40p.m. It's now been three hours of sitting in traffic and they've only moved about ten miles. What on earth is congesting the highway this much?

"Maybe we should take one of these exits." His dad scrolls through the map on his phone. "Says there are a few restaurants down exit 6A."

Jungkook considers the idea. He wants to get off the highway, yes, but so does everyone else. The exit his dad is talking about is off the far right lane which means he's going to need to shove in front of everyone's way.

"You sure it's a good place? Wherever it is you're looking?" The reason why he asks is that his dad is notorious for leading them into the most ruin down places. The last time he was in charge of directions, they ended up in front of an abandoned pizza shop.

Mrs. Jeon takes the phone from her husband's hand and swipes through the photos of a quaint restaurant. "It's not bad," she concludes. "And if it means we can get out of this mess, then I'm with your father on this one."

Two against one. Jungkook turns his signal on and waits for someone to let him over. He earns a few honks when he manages to squeeze his nose over but does his best to give an apologetic wave.

After a few more lane changes he gets in the exit lane. He isn't the only one planning to take exit 6B though, being that there are at least twenty other cars waiting in line.

"Maybe we were better off back where we were. All these people want to get off the same place. If we keep going there's bound to be another exit with far less traffic."

Really? Jungkook feels himself ticking again. After all that shoving to get over here and this is what he gets? No, he's not moving back over. They're going to wait in this stupid lane until it gets them to where they originally agreed.

"We just got here and we're not moving back anywhere. This lane should clear up in less time than it would take to go back on the main highway," Jungkook says. "Also, I probably don't need to clarify this but, we're not going to make it to that bookstore you wanted, Dad."

"It's fine, son. We'll go another day."

Which means tomorrow, Jungkook half grumbles to himself. His parents are here for another day after all and he knows his father well enough to know that "another day" really means the closest day possible.

Despite its size, the restaurant his parents choose is charming with its floor-to-ceiling wood paneling and giant, bay windows. The odd hanging plant is spread throughout the open dining space as well, perfectly setting the mood of serenity.

The restaurant only seems to hold about a dozen people inside, however. So thinking it is best to avoid sitting in an overly crowded space, Jungkook asks for one of the tables outside.

“Oh now this is lovely,” his mother praises, pulling her chair up to the table. Jungkook can’t describe how relieved he is to finally hear something positive after hours of nonstop grumbling.

Mr. Jeon takes a seat next to his wife and across from his son. “I just saw someone get Samgyeopsal and it was huge! Let’s get that to share.”

His enthusiasm is short-lived when the scrunched-up face from his wife says she's not a fan. “That's too much food! We still have to be hungry for dinner so we can eat with __."

"Mom's right," Jungkook agrees reluctantly. "__'s stopping at the grocery store after work so we can prep for dinner tonight. I know traffic slowed us down so we're eating at a weird time but it's better we go with something light."

"Oh well, we can always take some to go! Surely __ will enjoy some beautifully grilled pork!" Jungkook's father is adamant. He wants nothing more than a heavy meal after being stuck in the car all morning.

"__ doesn't like pork Dad. And we all know as soon as we get a whiff of it cooking there's not going to be any leftovers."

"Alright, alright," his dad concedes. "I guess I'll try their bibimbap. What are you having hon?"

Jungkook checks his phone messages while his parents make small talk over the menu. You texted him earlier to see how traffic was holding up and he only able to get back to you minutes ago.

Wifey ❤️ : So I'm guessing you haven't talked to your mom yet?

Jungkook: No, haven't brought it up. She seems fine though with the way she's been acting. It doesn't take much for her to go back to her usual self

Wifey ❤️: Her usual self being...?

Jungkook: You know, really particular.

Wifey ❤️: So she's complaining again. I'm sorry 😞

Jungkook: When I was talking with her on the phone before we left, she was much more careful about what she was saying. I expected it to still be that way now. Must have been a mood.

Wifey ❤️: Sounds like she wasn't sure how you'd be reacting after what happened last night. Maybe she's just reverting to back what she's used to because she's unsure what else to do or say. I'd still try finding a way to talk to her. Does it seem tense?

Jungkook: Yeah, you have a point. But Mom's also had a good way of sweeping things under the rug. It's not tense but it's just uncomfortably normal?

Wifey ❤️: Hmm, strange. And your dad's fine?

Jungkook: Honey...have you been on any social media in the last half hour?

Wifey ❤️: No, why?

Jungkook: Might wanna check. We had a little incident while in traffic. I'm still in shock honestly 😅

Jungkook waits for you to find the video of his dad. He already had the guys blowing up his phone from it so he's surprised none of them at least forwarded it to you.

Wifey ❤️: oh my god! Jungkook what happened?! 😂 I hope you're prepared for your students to be all over this

Jungkook: oh shit, that didn't even cross my mind 😩 also it's not funny honey! Listening to my dad singing eae e sexy lady was traumatizing enough. Now I have to see and hear it every time I pop open my phone or some teen punks show it to me!

Wifey ❤️: Aw Kookie, they're just being kids...try not to overthink. And you know those videos come and go. Your dad will be at the bottom of the chain by next week. Until then keep him away from PSY 😅 But I'm sorry you're having a day, I love you 🥺

Jungkook: I MISS YOU SO MUCH 😭

Wifey ❤️: [sent an image]

Fuck! Jungkook chokes on his spit when he sees a blurry close up of your cleavage. Thankfully his parents are still too occupied by the menu that they didn't notice.

Jungkook: sexy af but this isn't the time to be sexting me baby!

He nearly saves the photo if it weren't for the fact that he already had an album dedicated to very sensual *ahem erotic* photos of you. You had let him take them himself —best motherfuckin' birthday ever.

Wifey ❤️: oh adhjjhj, sorry!! That was an accident. I'm such a klutz. This is what I meant... [sent an image]

"What's going on over there?" Jungkook merely glimpses at the new image before whipping his head up, hearing his mother's, sharp tone.

"It's just __. She's asking about groceries again."

With slightly narrowed eyes, Mrs. Jeon continues. "We're about to order if you're ready."

Dammit. He'll have to reply to you later. Jungkook swiftly pockets the phone. "Okay yeah I'm good to go."

"This is delicious," Mr. Jeon says, patting his mouth with a napkin. "Best bibimbap I've had in a long time."

"That's great Dad." Jungkook stirs his noodles.

"Ah, where's the restroom around here?" He asks the waitress as she walks by. She tells him it's in the restaurant, all the way to the back. Mr. Jeon pushes his chair from the table and excuses himself. "All that broth has me needing to go."

"Yes yes, just go." Why his father needed to explain himself every time he needed to use the restroom is beyond him. Jungkook peers at his mother, taking her time eating her own bowl of noodles–they ended up ordering the same thing. "How is it?" he asks.

"It's good."

"Not too spicy?"

"No, it's mild."

Jungkook gathers more noodles on his chopstick. He freezes halfway when he sees his mother eyeing him intensely. "Everything okay?"

Mrs. Jeon folds her hands in her lap. "It's occurred to me that we still have an elephant in the room. I was hoping we'd be able to talk about it while your father browsed the bookstore. But plans changed."

And here he thought his mother had been playing down last night when really she was biding her time. "You know Dad's gonna be back in like ten minutes right?"

Mrs. Jeon nods. "I know it's not the most convenient of times or places, but I'm afraid if we delay it won't get discussed."

"Okay." Jungkook sets his chopsticks down. "Well...where do you want to start?"

"An apology would be nice." Her voice is mellow but the words are a clear demand rather than an offer. Of course, he wants to apologize to her for all the things he accused her of last night. But he wasn't expecting her to be this forward with it, especially since she was guilty of plenty herself. "I'm waiting Kookie," she coos, taking a sip of water.

Jungkook knits his eyebrows in response, unsure of what he's hearing. His mother looks far too relaxed about this whole thing. He decides to give her the benefit of the doubt. "You're right," he starts. "I'm sorry for what I said last night. I shouldn't have spoken that way and I'm sorry for making you leave. I think you and Dad showing up all a sudden threw me off and I reacted poorly."

Mrs. Jeon cracks a tight smile and reaches for her son's hand. "Thank you, Jungkook. I accept your apology." She gives his hand a squeeze before moving to pick up her chopsticks. "Now that we got that settled let's talk about the reunion. I'm thinking about talking to–"

What....the fuck? His mom did not just glide over this whole issue. She did not just put everything on him. And she did not just bring up that damn reunion again, which he's made very clear he wants nothing a part of. "Is that all you wanted? For me to make my amends with you?"

"What else would there be Kookie?" She scoffs, eyes wide.

"Goddamn it." He struggles to maintain a hushed voice. "Can you please stop calling me that? And what the hell do you mean 'what else would there be'? I'm not trying to put the blame on you but there's a good amount you should be saying to me too."

"What things are you referring to? Don't tell me this is about the reunion again. Look, whatever it is that I said was because I just want to see you more. And no more swearing. You know I don't like that kind of language."

"How can you be like this?" Jungkook can't stop himself. He figured his mom and he would have a better, heart-to-heart than this. It makes his skin crawl that his mother continues to play the victim. "It's genuinely shocking me how....do you even love me?"

Mrs. Jeon pauses at that. "Of course, I love you Jungkook. Why–why would you ask that?" She blinks back the slightest hint of tears forming along the edge of her eyes. Never in a million years did she think her son would doubt something this crucial.

"I feel like–"

"Feel what? What is it?"

"I feel like you care more about what I can do for you than you do me, as your son." Jungkook sniffs. This is a lot harder for him to say than he imagined. "There's been so many times that you've–"

"Don't say this honey! I care about you very much!" She reaches for his hand again but he yanks it away. "What are you trying to tell me?" His mother waits for him to form the rest of the sentence.

Jungkook hesitates to look at her straight on because behind what appears to be concerned eyes is disbelief. She isn't taking any of this seriously. It's written all over her face, tone, and all the way down to the way she's focusing on an answer rather than his inability to comfortably talk to her.

"What have I done so many times?"

"Honestly at this point, what haven't you done?" With an icy glare, Jungkook can't hold himself back anymore. The pot that's been brewing, deep in the darkest parts of him is finally overflowing and it's not going to be pretty to behold. "Do you realize how many times you chose your job, your status, and even your friends over me? And you make Dad go along with literally anything! Is it so horrible for someone to say no to you?!"

The couple next to them shoot uncomfortable looks his way, whispering to each other. Jungkook ignores it and starts counting with his fingers.

"Never once have you ever taken responsibility for showing up uninvited, nagging me about this that, and the other thing, making backhanded comments about my life choice, and most of all pretending our relationship is peachy fine. Well, I'm sorry mom, I'm thirty-four years old and I don't need to live by your rules! Our relationship is barely hanging by a thread and being quite real, it's __ and Dad who are the ones clinging to that thread, making sure it doesn't completely snap."

Mrs. Jeon opens her mouth to interject but Jungkook doesn't allow it to happen. It's not exactly intentional that he's pouring out so much in the middle of people's lunch. Still, he's been shoved over a steep cliff, head first.

"I'm sorry mom, I don't know how many times I need to say it. I don't enjoy any bit of this. It's just been a long stretch of–"

"That's enough! I don't want to hear any more." Mrs. Jeon immediately grabs her purse and twists her neck every which way. "Where's your father? I want to leave."

"Mom I'm trying to talk to you! Why won't you let me talk?"

His mother doesn't reply. She doesn't look at him. It's the silent treatment, Jungkook concludes–it's fucking irritating. "I'm not trying to be hurtful," he says, forcing himself to calm down. "Mom look at me."

She doesn't move.

It only takes seconds for their waitress to near her way up to the table with anxious steps. "I'm sorry to be doing this but unfortunately, we've received a few complaints of a disturbance out here." The young girl clasps her hands. "To ensure all our guests are comfortable we're going to need to ask you to take your conversation elsewhere. I'm really sorry."

Fuck. How embarrassing. Jungkook clears his throat and stands up from his seat. "We understand and are genuinely sorry for the commotion. We'll pay at the front and be on our way. Thank you for waiting our table."

The young girl gives a nervous smile and retreats inside the restaurant. Jungkook makes a note to give her a generous tip.

"Hey, what's going on out here?" Mr. Jeon rushes over, hair blowing over due to the breeze. "I heard there was some inconsiderate party out here airing out their dirty laundry for all to see. I tell you, people these days don't know what privacy means anymore!" He shakes his head and takes a seat.

"Get up Dad we're leaving."

"But I'm not done my–––oh shit." Mr. Jeon clenches his teeth. "You two?"

Mrs. Jeon gets up from her chair, still wordless, and walks towards the parking lot. "I'll get this Dad." Jungkook stops his father from pulling out his wallet. "It is best if you go try to ease Mom. I don't think she'll be talking to me for a while."

Mr. Jeon puts a hand on his son's shoulder. It's his way of offering comfort. "You're mother has made things difficult for you, Jungkook. I'll try getting through to her. In the meantime don't let this eat you up. It's been a long time coming."

Jungkook doesn't get home until quarter past six. The drive home was better than the drive to the restaurant, but hitting the notorious five o'clock traffic slowed them down once more. He also had to drop his parents at their hotel which was no easy task. His mother barely gave him a glance before hopping out of the car. The amount of guilt settling in his gut isn't going away any time soon.

"Hey." Jungkook finds you searching through the kitchen cupboard. "I hope you're okay with spice tonight! I got this really awesome–oh baby what's wrong?" You stop what you're doing when you see your husband come up behind you with sunken eyes. He wraps his larger arms around you, desperately needing your scent.

"I blew it," he croaks. "She's so mad at me."

"I'm sorry Jungkook. I'm sorry I couldn't be there." You turn in his arms to pull him into a full embrace. His nose tickles the side of your neck but you don't laugh. "You wanna tell me?"

Jungkook takes your hand and sits you both on the couch in the living room. "The morning started out rough with three hours of traffic and the two of them in the back seat, telling me where and how I should drive. Then my dad got unexpectedly famous off a PSY song. We finally got to some restaurant about half an hour west of here before 3pm. Everything was going okay until dad went to the bathroom."

"Okay," you say, scooting closer beside him. You rub small circles on his upper back as he leans forward on his spread-apart knees. "What happened?"

"Mom suggested we talk about last night so I said sure." You watch as Jungkook fiddles with his hands. "But she didn't actually care about a conversation or what I had to say. All she wanted, all she expected, was for me to apologize to her so we'd be okay again. It all came out after that and I feel so horrible about it. We ended up getting kicked out of the restaurant too."

"Jungkook..."

"I tried __. I wanted to be patient and to be a good son but she can't even look at me right now." He falls back on the couch, staring at the blank wall in front. "Dad's convinced it was bound to happen."

"You are a good son, Jungkook." You comb a few strands of his soft, ebony hair. He closes his eyes as you do. "You're mom's the one who needs to readjust her view."

"I never thought I'd yell at my mom about all that stuff. And certainly not in public where everyone is trying to have a pleasant lunch. I'm a grown-ass adult and I should have had better control of myself."

You settle into his inner shoulder, laying a hand on his chest. "Even grown adults have limits and your mom's far surpassed those limits. Don't blame yourself for this."

"Dad said the same thing."

"Well, that's two against one."

Jungkook smiles. Two against one, that's where he got that from. Not that you're the first person to use the phrase but he never used it as regularly until you moved in together.

"I missed you so much today. I don't deserve you."

You cock your head up as quick as the words fly from his mouth. "Don't you dare say things like that! You're a good man despite how awful your mother treats you." You lean your face near his, eyes wandering deep into his dark brown ones. "If you're not otherwise too tired, I'm going to show you how much I love you."

Jungkook opens his lids at that–apparently not too tired. You smirk and get off the couch.

"Here?" His classic doe-eyes peer down at your kneeled position. Seeing you settle this perfectly between his muscular thighs triggers an intense blood rush that goes straight to his dick. Jungkook didn't think he was going to get horny tonight but here he was with his half-harden length in your hands in the middle of the living room.

"Mhm." You position yourself just enough for him to have a clear view of your tits. You had taken both your shirt and bra off before starting. You know how your husband likes it. "That okay with you?"

Jungkook groans when you grip his cock harder, gliding it from the base to the tip in repeated motions. "Fuck yeah. It's more than okay." You giggle at how quickly your husband gets in the mood. He thinks you're the bitch in the bedroom? You quicken your movements.

"Oh shit this feels so good." He grips the couch cushion, keeping his focus on you. "Need that gorgeous mouth wrapped around me baby, please. Shit–"

You honor your husband's requests and trace your tongue from the base of his cock all the way up to his tip. Once there, you suck lightly before taking him in whole.

"That's it. Take my cock, fuck." Jungkook goes on to praise you as you bottom out. You gag a little at first being that you haven't done this in what....weeks? Damn. Whatever happened to the days when you'd literally go down on each other every day?

"We need to get you reacquainted with my cock honey," he teases, bucking his hips forward to push himself further into your mouth. "All these weeks without my cock in your mouth has you gagging all over me. Been it's been too long hasn't it?"

"Mm," is the only thing you reply with, the weight of his thick length dragging back and forth on your tongue. By now your pussy is pulsating like crazy and you're tempted to just get up and fuck yourself on him. But tonight was about your husband–you're going to make sure of it. And Jungkook loves nothing more than getting head with your bare tits in full view, obviously.

A few sucks later and Jungkook starts fucking himself into your mouth. They began as soft, needy bucks of his hips but now they're rough, full-force thrusts. His length shoves to the back of your throat and you moan desperately around him. "Did you miss my cock baby? I bet you did. My sexy wife....you're mine and you're gonna make me come, aren't you? Fuck yeah, you are."

Your eyes water as you continue to take him, hallowing your cheeks the best you can. Jungkook has his eyes screwed shut and sweat dripping from his forehead. Your panties are so fucking soaked right now and your nipples are defiantly hard from sheer arsousal.

"God I'm so close baby. You're mouth is---fuck I don't even have the words. It's fucking magic! And your tits are so hot from this angle. Kinda reminds me of what you sent to me earlier. Can I come on them? I'm so close." Jungkook takes your broken moans as a yes and starts ramming into you two more times before pullout and covering your breasts with warm liquid. "Fuck fuck fuck," he grunts, spilling himself on you.

What a mess. You look down at yourself. What a motherfuckin' mess and you love it. Jungkook pulls you into a passionate kiss, tongue rolling with yours in heavenly harmony. "Thank you for this," he says between kisses. "I'll help you wash up, I promise."

"Mm Jungkook," you pant. "I think I need you inside me."

Hey, he got his dick sucked and he creamed your tits–it's mama's turn now, or excuse you–wifey.

A/N: this got nasty whoops. not sorry. Anyway LMK what you think, thanks for reading! 💞 also pls vote if youd be so kind

Masterlist

Taglist:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper @ellesalazar @monbebe234-blog @parkinglot-nights @borahaexoxo @hobiswhore @kimseokjinbangtan @jjk97091 @mk-id @blueberry711 @givemethemaknaes16 @iammartian07 @jjkluver7 @itsdingdong @jiminshi20 @sweet-sourhotcoco @lubtou @lovingkoalaface @starsinsky1999 @rockstarrgyu @chaconnelatte @kaithezaftig @skzthinkr @babystarcandykookie @glossyyyymin @siudema @justanotherkpopstanlol @sh1nedreamsm1le7

P.S. I'm sorry but I'm not sure if I'm able to tag all of you!

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[ziggyzolch]

Headache Ⅴ (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Summary: After 2 months at the compound, you finally get some good news. Warnings: nothin really Previous Chapter

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

❅❅❅

“Got it?” You were bouncing in your seat as Steve concluded the meeting. “Yes!” Jumping up, you speed towards Wanda’s room. You hadn’t used your speed much aside from training since you’d gotten here, but you couldn’t contain your excitement. The meeting had ended 10 minutes ago, actually, but Steve asked you to stay back to tell you something you’d been waiting to hear for ages. ‘Blablabla…allowed on missions…blablabla’.  The stress of your upcoming exam was dulled by your excitement for your first, real mission.

“Jesus! Can’t  you knock?” Wanda yells as you burst into the room, holding a towel up to her chest. With a yelp, you slap your hand over your eyes, rushing back out and closing the door, waiting patiently for her to finish up with a light blush on your face.  Wanda seemed to ease up on you after the Ouija incident, even confessing that she controlled the whole thing. You seemed to be growing on her, despite the teasing. She’d even occasionally buy you coffee, something she randomly started doing after a month of you living at the compound. She had noticed how stressed out you were about all your assignments and upcoming exams, and figured it’d help.

 “Don’t mention it.” She’d roll her eyes and say when you thanked her with a kiss on the cheek. 

 Leaning back on the door, you get lost in your thoughts. Your first, official, mission. After 2 months of training, Steve’s finally letting you go on a mission. Your time at the Avengers Tower so far wasn’t the most exciting. Wake up, train, eat, and study until you pass out on Wanda’s desk. Things were finally about to get interesting-

Wanda watches you fall backwards into her room as she opens the door, laughing at your glare. “You need to stop leaning against the door,” She offers you her hand, which she yanks back just as you were pulling yourself up. “Cunt.” You mutter under your breath, pushing yourself off the ground. 

“What’s got you so excited, speedo?” Wanda asks as she dries her hair.

“Nothin’ much; just that I’m going on my first mission!” You jump up and down..

Wanda raises an eyebrow, “Huh. When? What kind of mission? Are you ready-”

Taken aback, you raise an eyebrow, “Uh, Steve said it was soon.” You scratch the back of your head, “ I don’t know much else, just that it's happening.”

Wanda gets lost in her thoughts as the conversation dies out, walking into the bathroom. You ignore the sudden change in her demeanor. 

The excitement fades as you glance at the pile of books at your desk. College was kicking your ass. School was never an issue for you, being a straight A student up until you graduated, so struggling at your studies was foreign to you and all the stress had been piling up. That, plus your overwhelming homesickness, had been bringing you down the past couple of weeks. Your first exam was in a week, and you felt completely and utterly unprepared. 

A meow coming from under the couch brings you out of your thoughts. You coo, picking up your cat and spinning around, “My baby, my baby. You’re my baby say it to me,” Adjusting your hold on him, you start swaying back and forth. You found him as a kitten shivering under a dumpster towards the end of high school. You were skipping with Peter when you found your adoptive son, and you kept him hidden in school until you could take him home. Your father was not pleased. “My baby, my baby- Ah!” A familiar laugh startles you. 

“Did you birth him or something?” Tony jokes, putting his hands out as you hand him your baby, “I might as well have, he’s my son.” You pout, watching the cat climb onto the man’s shoulder. “What’s his name, anyways?” He asks, bending his arm awkwardly to pet your son.

“Wesker, but my father nicknamed him ‘Little shit’” 

“Like mother like son, amiright?” Tony puts the cat down, scratching his little chin for good measure.

“Ha. Ha. What did you come in here for?”

“Well, speedo,, I heard from a little, 6’2, jacked, bearded birdie that you were going on your first mission soon,” He walks towards the door, urging you to follow him, “I’d like you to help me design your suit-” Tony’s interrupted by your squeal “Yes!” You clear your throat, “I mean, yes of course I’d like to help.” 

“Great. Maybe after this mission I’ll let you have your own room.”

Tony pauses at the door to his lab. He leans in to type in the code, before glancing back at you and putting his hand up to cover the screen. You roll your eyes, he must’ve installed it after your failed heist. 

“Alright, let’s start.”

❅❅❅

“That looks like shit.” Wanda deadpans as you show her the design you came up with. You and Tony discussed the features you’d want for your suit, but he left the aesthetics to you. “What the fart! This is the third one I’ve shown you.” You whine, Wanda raises an eyebrow, “‘What the fart’? Are you 6?” You roll your eyes, “You wouldn’t get it.” The witch chuckles, pushing aside crumpled papers and taking a seat next to you.

“Why is the suit fully green, wouldn’t black make more sense?” 

“I’m not trying to look goffik.”

“Goffik?”

“Never mind.” You have to make her read ‘My Immortal’ later.

The door being pushed open interrupts your conversation. Steve walks in, acknowledging Wanda with a curt nod, before placing a file with ‘CLASSIFIED’ plastered on the front on your desk. “Mission details.” He says before turning and walking out. “Uh, okay…” You mutter, picking up the folder and skimming through.

‘Abandoned Hydra facility, low security. Pick up leftover documents, blueprints, etc. Limited to zero engagement.’ 

Seems easy enough, if not a little boring. The mission was taking place a day before your exam. You probably should’ve mentioned the fact to Steve, but you could deal with it. You can feel Wanda’s presence behind you, reading through the document as well. Wanda mutters something under breath before walking towards the door. “No wait! I still need your help- and she’s gone.” You sigh, pushing yourself off the couch and moving towards the desk. 

Putting your glasses on, you crack your knuckles and stretch your neck. You’re locking in. 

❅❅❅

You’re awoken by a nudge on your shoulder. Lifting your head up, you look at the ruffled papers and pens, your biology textbook on the floor by your foot. “Hey sleepyhead.” Wanda teases, ruffling your hair and placing a cup of coffee next to your laptop. “Hey, thanks.” You lean up, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Don’t mention it.” She smiles. 

You groan, holding your head in your hands. “What’s wrong?” Wanda glances back at you as she takes off her shoes. “This shit is kicking my ass.”  She approaches you, flipping through the various worksheets.

“All the lectures I missed are catching up to me.” You had studied the material at least 5 times by this point, but you still don’t feel like it’s enough.

“Aren’t they recorded?” She picks up your textbook, placing it on the table.

“Yeah, but I can’t focus with videos.” 

“Huh, I never expected you to care about school so much.” She mutters, “Maybe I can help?”

You raise an eyebrow, ignoring the subtle jab, “How?”

“I could quiz you, or something. Maybe research some new studying methods you could try?”

“Oh, yeah. Smart!” You light up, “But later. My eyes are starting to cross.”

Wanda giggles, patting your shoulder and walking towards the couch.

“I’m joining the mission.” Your eyebrows shoot up at Wanda’s statement.

“Why? Is it more dangerous than I thought?”

“No, no. Nothing like that, just wanted to see how you’d do, and maybe make fun of you if you mess up.”

“Oh. Okay,” You don’t think too much of it, having been used to her teasing by now, “Who else is going?”

“Bucky and Natasha, maybe Pietro. Steve won’t be there, so Natasha’s in charge.”

You nod, standing up and pulling out the spare blanket and pillow. Wanda stops you before you can place them on the floor, “You can sleep on the couch, if you’d like.” Your eyes widen, “Really?” The witch rolls her eyes, “Yes, idiot.” Picking them up, you place them onto the couch, “One day, those eyes will roll back so far they’ll never come back down.” She lightly punches your shoulder, “Don’t make me take it back.” You put your hands up in surrender as Wanda walks towards the window. You always take a nap around this time. Wanda thinks that if not woken up, you could sleep till judgment day. 

She sets up an alarm for you to make sure it doesn’t happen. You never asked about it, figuring she set it for herself and that you happened to benefit from it. Before you could tuck yourself in, Wanda asks, “I found a polaroid of you and your father in the drawer. How come you never talk about him?” You sigh, turning away from her, “Nothing really. Just distance.” 

Wanda knows there’s more to it, but she won’t read your mind to find whatever information you left out. The witch closes the blinds and picks up your worn out teddy bear from the floor, placing it next to you and walking towards the door. Turning, she glances at you, snuggled up on her couch, already asleep. Maybe sharing a room with you wasn’t all that bad.

❅❅❅

Next Chapter

-

A/N: hello again. kinda long authors note but i got a lot to say.

i went back and changed a few minor things in the other chapters, mainly grammar and spelling errors.

one major thing i changed was becca to kate bishop. It felt out of place for her to be there tbh, figured itd be better to have an already established character.

also in the last chapter i accidentally left in ‘quinn’. She was another character that i put in that i ended up scrapping, but forgot to remove that mention of her.

Also, I know a lot of my followers came from my regina fic, so if you guys are reading this and want a new regina fic, give me some suggestions!

Sorry for the super long wait. Summer break started so new chapters coming!

Also, is there any character in particular you guys would like to see? Or any already introduced character youd like R to interact more with? Tell me bout it. tbh i’d love to hear any suggestions you guys have for the story.

Comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

Tags: @sgm616 @gabby-duhh @le3-r1n @unicorniusfallapatorius @ayoungexwife @anaaam

[i-cant-sing]

I'm surprised by how open you are about your views on 'controversial' topics. As someone who works in a hospital and a certain group of university in the US, I had to sign a contract that prevents me from speaking out on these matters. How do you manage discussing such topics in your role?

I mean where I'm from, we have much bigger issues than just someone's opinions. Idk what controversial topics youre talking about, but i dont be just going about and giving my opinions to everyone and anyone. No, not everyone gets it and my time is far much more valuable than to talk sense to an ignorant person who will just make it look like im banging my head against the wall. Also because opinions are constantly changing because Im also in a growing age and im still learning new things everyday. if you were to see my views from 10 years back, youd be surprised. but then again, i was still a teen back then and i was easily influenced so back then i used to think being a feminist is being "anti man" or that being "feminine" is wrong and weak, which is not true obviously.

again idk what controversial topics youre talking about, but im gonna take a guess its about the gaza genocide being comitted by israel and look, there is only one fact, not opinion but FACT! and thats that Israel is murdering Palestinians actively, torturing them, doing ethnic cleanising and still trynna defend themselves for murdering babies in the worst way possible, and then some. there is no other side to this- there is no excuse for israel to do this, not now, not then and not ever. they are comitting crimes WAY WORSE THAN THEIR OWN HOLOCAUST, and its so enraging to see how nonchalant they are about it, how they have ZERO humanity, how they are actually worse than the NAZIS- imagine being worse than Nazis.

now back to your question- how do i manage giving my two cents on this? I'm Muslim, and even if I wasnt i think its the pretty obvious and sane thing to do, but Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) said: "Whoever sees something evil should change it with his hands. If he cannot, then with his tongue; and if he cannot do that, then in his heart- and that is the weakest of faith"

So if anyone of you can go volunteer in Gaza, or give humanatarian aid or donate, then he should do so. If you are not in a position to do that, then you should speak up, go to protests, post on your socials and raise awareness and keep up the boycott. If you are not even able to do that for whatever reason, then at least in your heart you should know that this is evil, go pray for palestinians, and keep on reminding yourself so that you dont get brainwashed into any western propaganda ever again about how Muslims are just deserving of this horrendous hate crime on such a level.

secondly, my reason for speaking up about this is because lets just forget for a moment that palestinians are majorly muslims and this is islamophobia. lets just consider them humans, okay? u could hate muslims adults all u want, but kids dont really have that much of a grasp on religion right? so, do you think that if Israel has and continues to comit a massacre on this level while the entire world watches, while everyone calls them out on their shit, while they have repeatedly documented their own disgusting tortures and crimes against these palestinians, have been called out by UN and the INTERNATIONA CRIMINAL COURT numerous times and they still continue on with this genocide, then what makes you think that you or i are safe?

If we let this continue on, if we dont speak up, then this is just giving a free pass to not only Israel but also anyone to go absolutely batshit crazy on any other country. The very fact that youre not in gaza and sitting in your home safe and cozy is by pure luck. But luck runs out eventually. And karma comes. What goes around, comes around. You stay quiet today over this matter, you dont try to help palestinians, then no one's gonna come for you too.

[explosionkatsu]

“Age doesn’t matter” 10

Dad!Bakugo x F!Babysitter!Teacher!Reader

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Days have passed and you're finally discharged from the hospital. You were happy of course, especially when you remembered what Katsuki offered you.

"What I'm trying to say. No one will take care of Kazui. I can't always rely on my parents. My friends are heroes as well. Since you mentioned you used to be a babysitter. I would like to hire you."

You looked at him surprised once again. Are you in heaven? Are sure you're still alive?

“M-me?” Y/n stutters placing a shaking hand on her chest.

“The fuck am I talking to.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. Are you really even a teacher? “I don't need to repeat myself. If you fucking reject it, it's fine.”

“N-no! I was just surprised!” Y/n immediately shut Katsuki. “I-i was just surprised, honestly.” Finally, Y/n smiled. “I didn't expect you to say that. It makes my heart melt. I’m happy.”

After that day, Katsuki dropped you off at your apartment. He’s been stopping by to visit you at the hospital after his shift which you don't mind. But you often think you were bothering him which he says you're not.

Now here you are getting ready to leave your apartment to babysit Kazui.

Y/n grabbed her keys from the counter and left, securing the door behind her. Better safe than sorry is what they say.

It's a good day for her. Of course, you were trying to ignore the new insecurities. You kept reminding yourself that the scars you got were a sign of your boldness.

Yes yes.

A soft smile appeared on your lips. Bravery isn't something you should be insecure about. You were even glad you protected Kazui. Not an ounce of regret you were feeling. So you took a step towards your destination only to realize Katsuki didn't give you their address.

Great.

Y/n mentally smack herself. How could she forget to ask for the address? So much for being confident.

Y/n grabs her phone from her bag deciding to call Katsuki. Boy, she was glad she had his number due to school purposes. While standing a few meters away from her apartment, she clicked the call button and placed her phone in her ear waiting.

..

It just so happens that it's Katsuki's day off.

Due to exhaustion, Katsuki overslept which we all know is pretty rare. So, when he realized this, he panicked and rapidly stumbled out of his bed reaching for his phone. But as soon as he saw what day it was. He relaxed while on the carpeted floor.

Katsuki still decided to get up though. Slowly, he got off the floor and stretched, snapping a few bones, and stepped out of his bedroom, not even bothering to pick up his thick shroud nor fix his bed.

“Kazui? Are you awake?” Katsuki shouted as he made his way to his son’s bedroom.

He quietly flares the door open only to see a sleeping Kazui, snuggling comfortably on his bed. The sight made Katsuki smile. He was glad Kazui was okay. His treasure. Even though sometimes Kazui can be a brat, he loves him more than he even loves himself. More than he loves his job. His barefoot quietly made contact with the floor as he walked closer to Kazui. Carefully, he bent down kissing Kazui's forehead making him squirm but went back to sleep.

After this, Katsuki left Kazui’s bedroom and made his way to his kitchen. Now that he’s fully awake, he needs breakfast. He was scratching his head as he strides down the stairs, yawning a bit. Once he reached the kitchen, he placed his phone on the countertop and reached for the refrigerator handle only to get interrupted by his phone ringing.

It’s too fucking early for a phone call, unless it’s his company finally realizing they needed his guidance on some work issue. Probably? Who would even call this early anyway. Groaning, he reached for his phone and took a closer look to check who was the caller. Almost instantly, he picked it up.

“Good morning, Bakugo-san.”

God. Hearing your voice early in the morning sends a shiver down his spines. Not that kind of shiver you perverts.

“The hell I said about formalities, hah?” Katsuki said ignoring that his voice is still raspy.

“O-oh! I’m sorry. I forgot, haha.”

Fuck, was he in heaven right now? Unconsciously, Katsuki lips turned into a small smile. “The hell do you want this early.”

“W-well.” Why the hell are you even stuttering? Hell you can even defeat Izuku stuttering, “I kinda forgot to ask for your address..”

Oh yeah, now that you mentioned it, you’ll babysit Kazui today. “I’ll message it to you.” Katsuki simply said.

“Thank you, Bakugo!”

He can hear the happiness in your voice. Weird.

“Can’t pick you up. No one will watch over Kazui.” Katsuki mumbled finally reaching for the refrigerator handle and pulling it open to check the contents inside.

“You don’t have to! I can get there on my own!”

“I’ll be waiting then.”

“See you!”

When the call ended, Katsuki was staring blanky in the fridge. Why the fuck he said he’ll be waiting? He groaned out loud this time. Why the hell is he sounding desperate? Is he desperate? Oh, hell nah.

..

Eijiro was glad he was off duty as well. That means he can visit Kazui and spend time with him. But his main priority right now is to find the location an intel told him.

Location where Katsuki’s ex-wife is.

Just thinking about this made his blood boil. Of course, he’ll never hurt a woman. It wouldn’t be very manly of him. But this one made him want to be unmanly.

Fists inside his pocket, he reached the said location. Eijiro was standing in front of a huge house, face staring blankly at it.

It’s now or never.

Eijiro gradually made his way to the front door. He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. Few seconds only passed when the door opened. His eyes hardened when he laid his eyes on her.

“I’ll join you in a minute babe!” She was giggling. But stopped when she saw who it was.

“K-kirishima.”

Eijiro didn’t say anything. He was staring at her intently.

“H-how did you-

“I came here to give you this.” His voice was low, so very not like his usual tone handing her a bunch of documents.

“What’s this?” she asked curiously as she raised a shaking hand and reached for the documents from his grasp.

“Discover it yourself.” Eijiro glared.

Gulping. She shakingly flipped the folder open in her hands and read its content.

A divorce paper with Katsuki’s name in it but without his signature, whilst the next paper was a warrant of arrest for abandoning Katsuki and Kazui.

“Ms. *, you are under arrest for abandoning your child.”

A sudden sound of a police automobile was heard making her panic.

“N-no.” She plead. “No! Please!!”

“The court will deal with you.” Eijiro left the scene as soon as the police arrived and dealt with her.

It was wrong that Katsuki didn’t know about this, but he’ll do anything for his buddy and his nephew.

“You’re free, Katsuki.” Eijiro mumled as he disappeared from the scene.

..

Meanwhile, while cooking breakfast, Katsuki suddenly felt a huge weight disappear from his chest.

[bambisnc]

nobody knows [ft j.sc]

pairing : sungchan x reader! genre : cavity giving coded fluff cw/tw : use of caps + suggestive mention if u blink u'll miss it :P wc : 0.4k ish

[03.17] Ding!!

bee eff (🦌) : HEY where tf are youuuuuuu it's FREEZING here your hot adn super loving bf is FREEZING alone AT NIGHT for you

you : 3 am is literally not even night,, + if you're hot.. then how are u freezing darling bf ?

bee eff (🦌) : yk what i meant !!! but feel free to elaborate on my being hot 😏😏

you : LMAO ur so cute i'll be right down

quietly making your way out of the house to meet sungchan, your boyfriend. neither of you was yet over the hype that came after having officiated your relationship with the title of dating. after years of pining, the (literal) boy next door and your childhood best friend was finally yours; as much as you were his, of course.

there were a lot of perks of dating your neighbour, to be honest. being able to meet him almost anytime of the day was definitely one of them. there was also, however, the tiny issue of having to ensure that all your rendezvous remained secret.

because, you know, there is the fact that neither of your parents would have been very approving of a partner "at this young an age?! you kids need to be focused on your studies! dating and whatnot will only jeopardize your friendships and make you one of those hermits who stay locked away in their room when a boyfriend or girlfriend breaks up with you!" you're pretty sure the thing about friendships was somewhat targeted..

you really did try to ignore your feelings for the boy. safe to say, that didn't work out well. his earnest confession and admittance of the fact that he was willing to take responsibility to keep you both a secret and completely hidden from all prying eyes was more than enough for you to brush your lips against the corner of his own and say yes.

bee eff (🦌) : HEAVENLY CHORUS MY GF'S COMIGN GUYS !!!!!!!!!!!! <33333 when ur here i'm gonna hug you so hard frfr. not letting you breathe for like 10 mins AT LEAST

you : oh? not going to let me breathe huh~? very 🥵🥵 of you~

bee eff (🦌) : your mind? out of the gutter please i'm trying to be romantic here!! xx but if that's what you want sure <3 i'll do anything, everything you want forever, i promise.

you've had doubts about this sometimes, a lot of worries, but you've never regretted it – and seeing how sungchan greets you with a huge smile and an exclamation of "yn!! you're here pretty!!" followed by a, as promised, huge hug – you don't think you ever will.

notes : not even gonna lie i lowkey cried at the last text,..... oh adn kiss of life nobody knows stays winning ty for ocming to my ted talk + [m.list]

[thewatcher-ofmedia]

🔥CHARACTER REVIEW TIME🔥

(Can you tell that my portuguese teacher didn't come so I have 100 minutes without shit to do)

ANYWAYS, since I'm in the 4th episode I think it's a good time to see first impressions

MAIN CHARACTERS

CHARLES

I love him so much, like I was 10 minutes in and saying "I would die for you, I would kill for you, just ask and I'll do it"

Favourite character obviously

Wanna put him in a jar and protect him from everything bad in the world

He's brunette, has curls, is the sunshine character, has daddy issues and uses humour to cope so obviously he's also on the list of fictional crushes

Also something that I absolutely love about this show is that they pick this "stereotypical characters" and make them better.

Like, in this case the always happy character would have a ton of trauma but the show (or the characters, but that's a talk for another post) would not acknowledge this, they would show real depressed shit and then completely ignore it for the rest of the show.

Or just show it in the end of the series then kill him off.

But here they're letting people know from the beginning AND it's visible that the fact that he hides it is gonna be a major plot point in the show which makes me SO HAPPY

And in the loop scenes they made sure to focus on Charles face and reaction every. single. time.

Anways, I'm soo curious to learn more about his trauma and death and to see his character development

And he's so cute and trying so hard to make sure everyone likes him and lighten the mood and to not be a bother and to make everyone happy and I'm gonna cry

EDWIN

I also love him so goddamn much

He's also going in the jar, don't worry I'll protect you from everything

He's my baby (he was born more two hundred years before me and is my age BUT HE'S MY BABY)

Seriously someone needs to sit him down and say that everything is going to be ok (and get death the fuck away from him, my boy does not deserve hell, he deserves to be with his boyfriend best friend)

Also love this concept that everyone around him knows he's not straight, he knows that he's not straight but somehow he's still in the closet. Like, he never says he's straight, but he says to Niko that Mounty and him both boys, so one cannot be into the other and when Niko says that boys can like like each other he just turns the conversation around

I think they're writing that so well. It's subtle yet obvious, it's so good

Also, he's autistic, definitely in the spectrum. He obviously doesn't know because the first diagnosed case of autism was in 1943

And the dynamics that he has with everyone is SO GODDAMN GOOD

CRYSTAL

Someone give this girl an aspirin, a therapist and a bed

My girl cannot catch a break

One more in the protection jar, don't worry, I'll find your family for you, you need to rest

Overall great character, she's sassy, she's funny and she's the only emotional intelligent one

She's definitely gonna be the bridge for Edwin and Charles' romantically relationship

Like she's Miss "Edwin is acting weird because he's jeaulous of the sexual tension that we have, Charles" and Miss "Charles got stuck in the loop because he has strong feelings towards abusive fathers because he had one, Edwin"

Really love that we have someone to smack this idiots and say "You're in love with each other" because they are not gonna realise that by themselves

Also, DAVID GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER, SHE DOES NOT DESERVE YOU. I'LL GET THE CROSS, I SWEAR I'LL DO IT.

NIKO

She's so cute, I wanna protect her from this cruel, cruel world

This means that I already have her in the jar, no one else is gonna get to her

At first I thought she was gonna be this really closed and introvert character that was gonna talk when absolutely necessary and was a bit emo. But like her hair her personality lightened up as soon as the parasites got out (she was sick it's normal that she was wuth a really depressed attutude but Bea's too focused on the story to remember how people act socially)

I really wanna hug her, I need to

Also love how eager she is to help and how she has nothing to do with the boys , she's a "cas closed" but even Edwin can't say no to her

I feel like her "almost dying" trauma is gonna be a bit underrated (although I see that they are not completely ignoring because of the 3rd episode where she felt like she couldn't deal with death since she almost met her the week before) but I want to believe the opposite because until now the show has not disappointed me in terms of traumas (or in other terms really)

SIDE CHARACTERS

ESTHER

I don't have much to say, I like her in the twisted "this is a fun villain" way

I'm really curious to know more about this Lilith and immortality thing

She did loose some points in my book with the whole torturing the crow thing

I am ✨️traumatised✨️

CAT KING

I'm so confused about his character

Like, he's a really fun character

And his outfits are great

But at the same time, get the fuck away from Edwin, in both the scenes with both of them I was so scared that he was going to the "no consent" zone

I do love that both the scenes where he's in he slays the outfit, tries to drag Edwin out the glass closet, fails, keeps him trapped so he can try to do this one more time and goes away

Like, he has one objective and one objective only and honestly, respect

JENNY

My patient queen

I have not much more to say

She accidentally adopted two really weird teenagers and regrets that so much

I respect her so much

As an older sister, if she snaps, grabs a knife and kills them both out of annoyance I would support it

That's it 🫶

If you haven't understood yet I have way too many thoughts about this series