#itty bitty cranky thing

[grollow]

May I ask about Pinion, perhaps? Name got me curious

Pinion :>

They're my vessel OC! They kinda debuted in a side story of Living Dead and will actually be making an appearance in the real fic. They have a cracked mask because they got hurt by a mawlek~ They kinda got adopted by the Troupe in that fic due to having no where else to really go.

(artist: oro)

They are very curious and a little on the reckless side and spend most of their time following around anyone who looks interesting to them (which is everyone, they're nosy). They are Very Scared of Tall People, which is unfortunate as they are very small.

(artist: liirah)

Some day I'll probably write a "Pinion gets into trouble" ficlet. In Living Dead, they got their name from grown-up-Grimmchild, because they're always trying to fly -- bird flight feathers inspiration. :>

They're one of my favorites and my Twitter profile picture because they're really cute (and really easily made grumpy).

(artist: @suminoze)

I'm sort of in love with their cloak. The original design was not supposed to be Grimm Troupe associated but Living Dead turned into a "Where I dump all my Original Characters for Hollow Knight" fic and well. They got put in.

[oftenderweapons]

In Your Calvin's | JJK

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 9.6k

Genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established relationship

Rating: 18+ Minors, do not interact

Synopsis: Being Jeon Jeongguk's girlfriend is a great honour, but it comes with great responsibilities. When the commercial celebrating your boyfriend (very secret boyfriend) starts playing on everyone's and their mother's phones, it's time you face what it means to be loved by the most wanted idol of them all.

Warnings: Jealousy and general possessiveness. Swearing. Powerplay, switch!reader, switch!jk. Masochist!jk (?). Marking (hickey, writing on body with a pen), hair pulling (male receiving), edging (male receiving), spanking (male and female receiving). Teasing. Mild degradation. Dry humping. A very mild boobjob. Breast worship. Unprotected foreplay, oral sex (female receiving; brief male receiving), unprotected sex (be smarter, kids), rough sex. Mentions of cockring.

One last thing: 1. this was edited at 3am, please bear with me. 2. Sidenote: I try to be as neutral as possible with the way I describe the girls' appearance, however I wanted to specify that in this fic, I mention Candy having long, straight hair (and huge badonkers, but that's kinda canon by now LOL). It's just a brief mention, absolutely nothing major and holds no relevance to the fic, you might not even notice it; but still, I wanted to make sure I thought about my curly haired goddesses, and short haired queens, (or a combo of both heart eyes) and that I apologise for making this fic just a pinch less immersive for you. (Is this the right moment to apologise to small boobs princesses too? ily sisters, itty bitty titty committee 5evah)

Here's my masterlist, lemme just disappear very quickly. Enjoy 💜✨

You knew Jeongguk had a gig with Calvin Klein. You've known it for months. You've seen him cut calories and hit the gym and dehydrate for a couple days before the shoot because he explained to you how muscle definition works, and crucial to showing a great slab of abs is being basically as dry as a breadstick, to the point of being cranky because you have drunk three glasses of water in the last forty-eight hours. 

Which all means, you knew his stomach would be quite surely showing.

And yet your world still stops once you're merrily sitting on your train back home and his half undressed form appears on the screen on your phone. 

At first you slam your phone shut, mostly because you're used to hiding your boyfriend away and that's the reaction you usually have when you open one of his flirty pics from your chat. 

Next, you realise you weren't on your private chat, and you weren't even looking at pictures in your phone gallery. 

You were absentmindedly scrolling. On Instagram. 

You unlock your phone again, and right there you're confronted with the very naked truth. 

Jeongguk. Is basically naked. On your phone. And it's for the entire world to see. 

Your brain slows down, as if the earth axis is tipping over a little in the opposite way. 

Something inside you snaps around the third time the video plays in front of your unseeing eyes. To anyone looking at you, you could be just an obsessed fan taking a close look at the fine piece of art, but your eyes are unfocused, your mind too deep in thought to register any stimulus from the external world. 

The vibration from the phone awakens you from your state of trance. 

“Candy, baby,” says the adorable lover boy calling you. “Have you seen it already?”

Your lips are sealed, and you can't quite bring yourself to speak, you don't know why. 

“I'm on my way back home.” You say, and the words feel like cracking a glow stick in your chest. 

“But did you see it?” His voice isn't as bright now. 

“I'm coming home.” You repeat. 

He's silent for a few seconds, and you can hear him sigh. “Okay.” 

“He's so insanely hot,” you overhear a girl sitting across from you comment. 

“I want to run my palms down the sides of his waist,” says her friend. 

You stare at them and you know you must look like a woman possessed right now, but you still allow yourself to incinerate them with a glare, as if your eyes could turn into flamethrowers. 

“Candy?” 

“I'll be home in ten.” And you close the call. 

On the way back home, you hear more people talk. More girls fawn. More women zoom in. 

On the escalator, you notice a woman fanning herself while staring at the screen. Another one even crosses herself as the ad from your boyfriend reruns on her phone screen. 

Every step on your way home is utter agony, and once you step over the threshold, you're not sure what you're going to do.

Jeongguk is in the kitchen in a sleeveless top, tattoos out, piercings glowing in the gentle light of the living room. And his hair is fluffy, which means he's probably just done blow drying it after taking a shower. 

The fact that the scent of his body lotion is still sharp gives you further indication of how recent that shower must be. 

“Hey,” he says, turning towards you with a bunny grin, which immediately dims once he sees your expression. “Oh. Bad day?” 

You bite your lip and stare at him a fair bit. Then, a bit more. 

“Candy, love.” 

You don't know what to do with him. Is he yours? Is he really yours? 

How come you come home to him making dinner, and being freshly showered, and being so domestic? How come you're living in his apartment, knowing his pass code, having an ID card for his apartment complex and his studio at HYBE? How come he gives you a copy of his schedule and talks about you over the phone on his weekly call to his grandmother and brings you to his parents' house? How come you go on trips together and you're the emergency contact to his fur babies and you make love two to four times a week? How come he's brought you to the town he grew up in and loved you down in the place where he lost his virginity because, "I wish it had been you since the very first time"? 

Who is this man? 

Is he Jungkook from Bangtan Sonyeondan? Or is he Jeon Jeongguk, your very own quiet, shy, reserved lover boy? 

“You're scaring me,” he whispers, putting down his wooden spoon and taking a few steps to stand in front of you. 

“Why me?” you ask, staring at his collarbones, too scared to look into his eyes. 

“What do you mean?” he asks back, sheepish. 

This time your eyes meet his. “Why me? Of all the women out there, why me?” You look down, taking in just how average you feel, every imperfection magnified in your eyes, now that you have so many people you're comparing yourself with, and competing with. 

“Candy—” He starts. 

“Everyone, everyone out there is literally foaming at the mouth at that commercial, and I'm here? I come home to you? I make love to you almost every night?” You pause and laugh bitterly at him. “I'm a fucking fraud.” 

He shakes his head and moves closer, grabbing your wrists. “A fraud, you say?” He tuts in disappointment, places your hands on his waist. “You're not a fraud, ____, you're my soulmate.” He leaves your hands once he feels them clutch at his narrow waist. 

Possessiveness hits you all of a sudden, and it is only mildly ebbed by his hands landing at the top of your ass. 

“I love you, and I make love to you because it's a fucking dream. You're a fucking dream, and I'm so upset that you don't see it.”

You're jealous. You're simply jealous. It's human and it's healthy to be moderately jealous. After all the comments you heard and read, it's fair to be jealous. 

“I reckon you saw the commercial.” 

“I saw the commercial and everyone's reaction to it,” you comment, slightly acidic. 

Jeongguk bends to place a kiss below your earlobe. “Are you angry?” 

No. Not just anger.

Your hands mimic his and crawl to his lower back, toying with the hemline of his underwear. “I'm not mad.” I'm disgustingly jealous and I don't like them having more of what's mine. They already have too much, they've always wanted too much and you always give it to them and I'm furious that it's not mine alone. 

Jeongguk wears a mischievous smile as he makes you take several small steps back, the back of your legs hitting the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?” 

You click your tongue and shake your head. “No.” 

The reply startles him, and he feels his mood dim. Did he—

“I'm not a jealous person, but this… God, this hits a new level,” you finally admit. “They already drool over you quite enough, and now they even have a video of you shirtless. How would I not be jealous!? Half the girls would have snapped your neck. If Yoongi ever did this, Kitten would have his balls dangling from her Mercedes keychain. I don't even know how Lace and Princess are handling their boyfriends naked on everyone's phone. If I were Tae I would seek political asylum in Greenland. Or maybe Tibet.” You take a large mouthful of oxygen before you launch yourself in another tirade. 

“Everyone's talking about grabbing your waist, licking your abs, tugging at your hair and shit and hi! I'm here! I'm the girlfriend! Sorry I exist! WHAT THE FUCK!?” 

Jeongguk laughs and lowers himself to your chest, kissing where your heartbeat echoes like a crazed war drum. 

“It's not fun!” you complain, significantly agitated. 

“Mh.” He hums as he moves aside the hem of your shirt, meeting the soft, smooth skin of your chest. “It was supposed to come out on your birthday, that's why's a bit more racy,” he explains more patiently. “But they decided to release it early.” He kisses a tender spot and your left knee tingles a little. “It was supposed to be a slightly too public boudoir shoot. But secretly it was just yours.” Jeongguk finds the cup of your bra and stares up at you as his fingers reach the hem and slide the fabric aside. “I was thinking of you when I made it.” 

And once his mouth wraps around your nipple, your right knee starts tingling too. 

“Must admit I had to push the limits a lot to finally make you jealous,” he purrs once he is done with the licking, sucking motion of his mouth around your tender flesh. “But I'm sorry I crossed the line.” 

What line? You think, your brain already hazy. No sharp line exists in the world you’re currently in. Just the loving, plush hills of Jeongguk's lips, the slippery slopes of his waistline, the sinuous curves of his hip bones leading you to his pelvis, and the soft curls of his luscious dark locks. No crossed borders, only gentle waves licking the shore, water and land embracing one the other. 

“Remind me who's the boss here, Candy,” he says, and you know he's playing you right now. “Remind me where I belong.” His mouth is at your ear as he whispers, “Show me who owns me.” 

The tingles are spreading as his fingers grab at your ass, his lips connecting with your jaw. “Talk to me, Candy.”

You’re not sure you can articulate words at this moment. Talking isn’t as easy as everyone makes it seem. 

His eyes connect with yours and he can tell you’re staring at his lips by the poetic detail of your lashes lowered over your cheekbone. 

It makes him chuckle, very gently, that he has all these details of you he adores, and that you have the audacity of asking him why he picked you, and why he keeps choosing you over and over. 

He loves you, his family loves you, his dogs love you. This is the way it’s supposed to be. 

His finger reaches underneath your chin, forcing your eyes to actually meet his. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he purrs, and as your lashes dart up, he shakes his head a little, loving the way you arch up a fraction, as if pulled towards him. “There she is, beautiful.”

You feel completely neutralised. Disarmed. All the storms brewing over you a minute ago are forgotten as soon as his sweet smile shines like sunlight above you. 

His hand combs your hair back, cupping your cheek and landing a kiss on your temple. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod. 

“What mood are we in?” You’ve asked him this question thousands of times since the two of you became serious, ever since he opened up about feeling too closed off to make a relationship work; and now, the fact that it was such a solid, valid ritual in your dynamics made it natural for him to ask too. “You need to talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I’m better. I…”

“Tell me what you want.”

You stare at him, at his shoulders, at his biceps, you trace his tattoo with your fingertip, and he looks closely at your finger, at it drawing swirls and circles on his skin. 

“Pick me up,” you say softly. 

And he does, immediately. His biceps flex and he grunts a little, not at the weight, but just because he knows the sound can make your toes curl, and he likes that a lot. His hands are wrapped around the back of your thighs, then they adjust to your bottom. 

“Next? Counter? Bed? Shower?”

You kiss him. Impatient, and needy, you kiss him. 

He opens up for you without hesitation, moaning at the sweet invasion of your tongue in his mouth. God, he loves it. It makes him melt, to feel your tongue slip against his, moving wet and sloppy, your lips plush and hot pressed up against him. He loves kissing you. Actually, he loves making out with you. He’s pretty sure he could come of that alone, and he tries to remind himself you have to give that a try. Another day. 

He places you onto the counter because he fears his knees might give out on him. And once he has you there it means his hands can roam all over you and grab your chest and toy with—

“No touching,” you snap at him, gripping his wrists and pulling his hands behind his back. 

His eyes go wide at the shift in pace, but he obeys. He also feels like he's awakening from a dream only to find out reality can be so much better. 

You dig your hands in his hair and he hisses a little as you tug gently, but still roughly. You think of all the people who wish they could do just so as you stare into his eyes, seeing just how turned on he gets as you manhandle him. 

You lean towards him and you notice him trying to kiss you, but you tug at his hair harder, holding him in place as the heat of your exhale fans over his parted lips and his chin. 

“You want me to own you?” you ask him, watching his muscles twitch as he fights the urge to grab you and put you in place. 

He nods. “Do me all the things no one else can.” He has a roguish smile as he adds, “Do me everything they won't ever, ever do to me.” And he is god of deception when he finally tips you over the edge. “Do me everything I want just from you, and you alone.” 

You watch him intently, then tug at his hair so that his head is angled upwards, throat vulnerable and exposed. 

He's staring at you with a mischievous glint in his expression, a walking temptation, and you can almost hear him say it, 'come on, do it'. And you do it. 

You bend forward and sink your teeth in his flesh, the tender skin caving in as your bite marks him softly before your cheeks move into a suctioning motion that you know will turn into a bruise. It just pleases you so. 

“Take a step back,” you order as soon as you're happy with the hickey. “Take off your shirt.” 

And he winks before he does. You watch the plain of his chest, the valley in between his pectorals leading you down to his navel. 

“I hope you're wearing your Calvin's,” you tease with a cocked eyebrow. 

He smirks. “Always in my Calvin's.” 

You snicker and shake your head. “Take off your pants.”

His forehead scrunches up in surprise, but he eventually obeys. 

He's standing in a pair of socks and his white boxer briefs. At least he didn't lie, they are Calvin Klein. 

“Do you want—” 

“The Calvin's stay on,” you sentence, then you descend from the counter. “Head over to the bedroom. I'll come over in a minute.” 

He stares at you, flabbergasted. 

“Oh, and I almost forgot: don't touch yourself. Settle down, hands on the headboard and wait pretty.” 

He blinks, unsure of where this is going to end or where it came from, but so blazingly grateful for it. 

“Okay.” 

You give him a quick once-over as you stand in front of each other. His abs are toned and defined, but now less alarmingly than the days before the shoot. His thighs are strong and you love how the material from the boxers wraps around them comfortably and smoothly. 

You dare stare at his crotch, at the way the fabric traces the curve of his length, so perfectly long and so perfectly thick.

You allow your fingertips to trace the curve of his spine, so lightly that it causes him to close his eyes, his head inched to the side as he shivers in pleasure. 

“Can I be rough with you?” you ask him, your hand reaching the small of his back and cupping the curve of his ass. 

He moves his hands on you the exact same way you did. “Maybe I like pain,” he suggests, and from the collection of tattoos and piercings, but mostly from the supercut of memories of him getting bitten, spanked and scratched by you, you’re reminded that you’re not dealing with the edited version of him he has promoted publicly. 

This is your boyfriend. Jeongguk. Your Jeongguk. 

You sink your nails into the flesh of his ass, and he hisses but smiles, pulling you closer, swaying his hips to tease your crotch with his. “Go get ready, babyboy,” you croon.

He hums invitingly and kisses your neck, trying to get you to move with him, but you’ve made up your mind already. 

“Go,” you repeat.

He pouts and grabs your hips. “Come on, what are you trying to do?” he asks, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark and wide and imploring for you to just follow him and spare him whatever cruel surprise you want to use against him.

You grab his wrists, making him unclasp his hands. “Go and you’ll find out.”

He hesitates and then he faces away, still reluctant, turning around a couple times on his way, checking if you’re following him — perhaps, maybe, hopefully…

Yet, you don’t move, not until he turns the corner to the bedroom. And then you make your way over, slow, unbothered. 

And you close the door on him. 

You head to the bathroom, wash up quickly, and equally quickly you cover yourself in his favourite lotion, taking special care of your neck and chest. Once properly buttered up and covered in nothing but pretty Calvin undies and his favourite Calvin jeans jacket, you’re ready to attack. But you stare at yourself in the mirror, and you feel like there’s still something you could do to give him a heart attack…

Oh, that, you think. And you get to work. 

Apparently he has behaved, as you find him lounging in bed, with his boxers still on, his hands laced behind the crown of his head, a fine slab of abs in full glow from the dark amber hue coming from his led lights. 

“Are we on a sunset gold kinda vibe— Holy shit.” He didn’t manage to sound as cool and aloof as he’d tried to be once his eyes landed on you. 

He wished he could take a picture of you and spread it across town, just so he could stare at it while waiting for a bus, or hanging out at Hongdae with his friends, and excitedly point at it while tipsy to holler “that’s my fucking girlfriend, that fine piece of ass fucking owns me”. 

He wished he could put you on an album cover and fill it with all the insane stuff you do to his heart and his mind and his body. How his heartbeat does a little hiccup thing when he sees you first thing in the morning, and how he’s spent every wish on fallen eyelashes over you, and making you happy, and building you a house and having fireworks for your wedding night, and having all his fans seeing just how incredibly fantastic you are to him, how you make him so happy and deliriously smitten and barely coherent when it comes to talking about you, and just… He just wants everyone to love you half as much as he does. 

And maybe for you to be only ever in love with him, so he doesn’t risk anyone thirsting for you enough to steal you from him. 

“What were you saying about golden lights?” you ask, climbing on the bed, your hand modestly holding the lapels of his jeans jacket together — it’s not time to destroy him yet. 

“I— I…” He tries to sit up, but you push him back where he belongs with a well-placed hand pressed to the middle of his chest. 

“Put on the red lights, love.” You grin devilishly, watching his doe eyes glimmer with wonder and disbelief. 

“Have I ever told you I am one lucky motherfucker?” he says, staring at your neck, at your face, at your hand, his palms already moving to your hips as you straddle him. 

“I just know it.” You sit on your throne — his lap —, stretch to the end table to grab the remote to switch the lights to red, and once the deal is settled, you let the jacket open. “I mean. I’m the luckiest because I have these, but considering you profit from them… You know…” You let your breasts show. 

“I know…” he says, entirely mesmerised. God, he is so easy, you think, watching his eyes scan your chest like a cat playing catch with a laser light. You mix your standard level of charm with a slow grind of your hips, so slow and gentle that it’s straight up teasing, torture at its blandest level.

“You make it so hard to think,” he speaks with a strangled voice, trying to make you move the way he wants, but you grab his hands with the excuse of lacing your fingers with his, only to drag them back by the sides of his head. 

“I didn’t know I could turn your brain into mush just like this,” you reply, feeling your folds moisten in an attempt to ease the sliding of your crotch against his length. Too bad both of you are still clad in your underwear and, according to your plans, would stay that way for quite a while, as long as possible. “You’re so whipped.”

“I am,” he purrs, and tries to get away with moving his hands back to your hips, but before he can dig his digits in the soft of your flesh, you tut. 

“You’d better not touch that ass, Jeon. Keep your hands to yourself if you want my hands on you,” you threaten. “Just to remind you who’s in charge, sweetheart.”

His eyes go wide and he moves his palms back behind his head as soon as you finish your remark. “Yes, miss.”

“Good boy,” you praise him, and you visibly notice him holding back from smiling at the praise. “Did you see my little mark?” you ask. “Call it a slog

an of sorts. A vision statement.” You shrug and push back the lapels, hoping for the lights not being too low for him to see. 

It has taken a while for your handy work to happen, mostly because it can be absurdly tricky writing in reverse, but thankfully you’re quite prone to graphic arts. 

Jeongguk rises a little, getting closer to where he can recognise dark scribbles on your chest. Unusual dark scribbles. 

“Is that… Tattooed?” he asks, and his eyes go wide as he meets your face. 

You cackle at him, leaning over and licking his lips, sucking his lower one, then travelling along his jaw, nibbling at his earlobe in a way that makes his hips jolt against you, buckling. “I can't have that tattooed, can I? Unless the world knows and it gets a little too permanent.” 

He frowns, not at the way he loses contact with your warm crotch, but because of the unwelcome realisation of what it means to not belong to you entirely. “I'm so sorry,” he sighs, trying to hold you, but stopping his hands before he can touch you. 

He goes back to his assigned position and begs you with his eyes. 

“Oh, no. Don't worry, it's okay.” To keep him distracted, you get back to a soft roll of your pelvis against his, and he seems to oppose, but it only lasts for maybe five seconds. 

His wound-up exhale convinces you to reward him further, lowering your chest so that it drags against his as you keep grinding on him. 

“Jeongguk, baby,” you murmur fondly. 

“So unfair… That I don’t get you like a girlfriend like anyone else…” He speaks, his focus spotty and frail. 

“What do you mean, love?” you egg him on.

“All the public stuff… All the PDA and the grand gestures. The stuff that makes it official, you know.” His eyes are glassy and fleeting as he speaks, and it really feels as if speaking were like making a necklace except he can’t quite line up the beads the right way and he can’t manage to get the string inside the hole and it takes a very long time for the words to finally turn into meaning and it’s all so frustrating. 

“I don’t care,” you reassure him, and this time you’re not unaffected either, the sentence stumbling out of you before you can even fully register the meaning you were trying to convey. “Can you read the tattoo, Guk?”

His eyelids lift through great effort, and in slow motion. You stop moving to help him focus on the writing, and he grunts at the interruption. He does not like that at all, and having you so close, so soft, so hot and wet for him is making his instinct vibrate with need to be inside you, move inside you, and then finally find his release in the welcoming darkness of your womb. 

“I—” He’s really trying so hard, god bless his heart, but he’s so unfocused and his vision is blurry and he needs to blink for a bunch of seconds before he manages to spell the message, and then compute it, and then smirk wildly before he bucks his hips up against you, letting you know that you’d better move on him. 

“What is it, Jeongguk? Mind sharing with the class?” you bait him with a cheshire grin. 

“Not sharing any of this,” he growls, and you can feel his arms jolt at the urgency to wrap around you, press you to his front and shove you underneath him, so that he can finally move as hard and as fast as he knows the both of you need. 

“Oh, don’t be a greedy little boy! Don’t you want to test how it feels to say it?” you tease him further, ready to push him to his breaking point. After all, that is what you’re always trying to do, get as far as it needs to make him go wild on you, barely coherent and entirely animalistic. 

“You want me to say it, don’t you?” he provokes you, feeling just how much the humiliation will further send you soaring over him. 

“I do,” you admit. 

He bites his lip and you look at him, you study the shape of his lips, the glint in his eyes, the dark shimmering of his lovely ebony locks, and the way his chest heaves with effort and arousal. “These tits own Jeon Jeongguk,” he speaks, his gaze piercing yours, holding you accountable for the undoing he knows will follow. 

“That’s right, isn’t it?” Your smile is sardonic, evilly pleased with his admission of submission, with him confirming, with conviction, that he is indeed entirely enslaved to his fascination for your chest, that he is so deeply enticed by it that just a silly part of you can guarantee you his unflinching devotion. 

“You know it’s right,” he grunts as your movements resume. And at this point, he knows this is going to take a while, and it will most surely turn out vicious. 

“Just checking in on you, making sure you haven’t found a better pair—”

“Don’t you dare talk to them like this. Not in front of me,” he hisses with a passion, and you chuckle at how chivalrously he defends your breasts from your own ill assumptions. 

“That’s so gallant of you,” you reply, your hands pulling his hair back, your tone fond and just vaguely lined with mocking. “Let them repay you for your kindness,” you suggest, as you start crawling down his body, your breasts landing heavily on his lap. 

“Really…?” he asks, first distracted and then extremely alert as he connects the dots. “With my boxers on?” He says with a frown. 

You shrug and smirk. “Maybe we’ll get rid of them later…” You sprinkle some kisses on his abdomen, your chest dragging against his sensitive parts. 

He frowns at the weight of them, so welcome, and yet deceiving as the fabric is hindering him from fully enjoying the act. “Please, off,” he huffs, tutting and fussing a little, but you decide to reward his patience with your nails tracing patterns against his chest, your fingertips drawing his areolae, your eyes hungry on his lost, bewildered state. 

“Not yet, love… Be patient with me,” you reassure him, tracing the rift in between the crests of his hips, one side, then the others, ricocheting between the bones on the two sides. “I’m going to make it so good to you,” you promise him, placing kisses all around the underrated perfection of his belly button — a huge ‘fuck you’ to the people salivating over him and never, ever knowing how such a minuscule inch of his body has you so irreversibly whipped. 

“Candy… Mh, love—” His voice has grown unbearably raspy and airy, so light it feels almost incorporeal, if it weren’t for the velvet smoothness of his skin underneath your lips, like marble that has finally received the breath of life, your boy an ineffable Galatea. 

“If you knew, Guk, if only—” kiss— “you knew—” kiss— “how sexy, and erotic, and exciting and poetic you look right now, baby. You look like art.” 

“Lemme touch you, I need you, I need—” he gasps and you’re almost expecting him to release a groan before he comes, way too early, much earlier than planned. But fortunately he doesn’t, he holds back stoically and cants his hips away. “For fuck’s sake,” he whispers, an arm covering his eyes. “I need a second if you need me to hold back.”

“Oh,” you reply in surprise, lifting yourself off him. “Are you alright?”

“Just give me some quiet for a second, Candy, don’t you dare even speak.” Jeongguk’s chest is rising and falling in wide movements, enticing and captivating.

Finally he removes his arm from his eyes, but he barely makes eye contact. 

“Guk?” You ask, worried. 

“Just— I’m trying to keep it cool here, love.” He wiggles his body a little, trying to get his boxers to fit a bit less tightly around him. “We should be smarter about this, you know?” His hands clench as he stops himself from reaching for you. “We should get a cockring for next time.”

You ogle him, then smile excitedly. “Really?” you chirp.

“Totally,” he concedes. He smiles even bigger at your smile. “Don’t tell me you bought one already.”

“Uhm… No,” you admit with a pout. 

“Dammit. It would have been weird, but I wouldn’t even have complained about it since it would pretty much save my ass right now.” He licks his lips, stares at you some more, and he groans and throws his head back at the renewed flare of arousal after he’d just managed to tone it down a notch. 

“I’m so sorry, bunny.”

“I’m alright,” he admits, his tone defeated. 

“Is this the right moment to suggest I ride your face?” you say, your grin now sardonic, almost drunk on him and the sight of his body shutting down for you, malfunctioning at the mere touch of you. 

He stares at you, wide eyed, nodding energetically, like a kid being asked if they want to visit Disneyland. “Guess it took a half naked commercial to get you to finally ask for it like you own it.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Careful or I can keep going with torturing you. I’m liking it anyway.”

“No no no, come over here,” he says with a stern and determined expression on his face, his hands reaching for the back of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting. Get comfy,” he encourages you, and after some manoeuvring you settle on top of him. 

He nods to himself, his nose nuzzling against the crotch of your panties, his mouth opening so he can feel your heat with his tongue, trying to get as close as possible.

Unsatisfied, his fingers reach to slip your panties to the side, but you slap at his hand. 

“Nope. You wanted the Calvin’s, and we’re keeping the Calvin’s,” you scold him. 

He frowns. “No, you were the one wanting them,” he argues. “Keep them on, you said.”

“Whatever.” You arch an eyebrow at him, but you also know he’s right and this decision has come to bite you in the ass. “Imagine how good it will feel once we take them off… And it feels a bit kinky to keep them on. Like… Like we’re having a quickie and everyone out there is waiting for model Jeongguk to come out anytime now, but once he does, well, he looks freshly fucked and everyone can’t stop talking about it— Oh, that!” you moan, your musings interrupted by Jeongguk trying to get bits of you in his mouth. 

You’re thankful for the brazilian cut panties giving him plenty of stuff to work with even with the underwear still on. 

“Stop me if it’s lewd but, dammit, I love the smell of you.” He drags his face side to side, basking in the damp, salty scent of your arousal. “I don’t even know what it is about it, but I like it so much.” 

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing,” you comment, your voice breathy. 

“Do you want me to keep talking?” he asks, and you just rub yourself against his chin, his mouth, and his words come out muffled. At some point you think you might have hurt his nose, so you ease the pressure a little, but he grabs handfuls of your butt and keeps you snug to his face, parts his lips wider as if he were really trying to eat you. 

He parts from his designed heaven only long enough to announce, “I’m pushing ‘em to the side, fuck it.” And you’re barely coherent, and he’s speaking with that intimate lisp of his, his accent heavy, like he can’t pay too much attention to words anyway. 

You don’t oppose. 

In seconds, his tongue is tipping inside you, slippery, and so hot, and you moan without even noticing it. Everything is soaked, his chest is covered in perspiration, and so are your thighs. 

You dare look down, and his eyes are closed as he is filling all his other senses with the sensation of you.

You bask in the sight of him, one forearm draped against the headboard of the bed, your other hand reaching down, to his fluffy hair currently tickling your inner thigh. You grab it, careful to be right between gentle and aggressive, in that way he finds so pleasant and sexy. 

He opens his eyes suddenly, and the moment he finds your eyes already connected with his face, he finds himself more eager to give you just what you need to plunge into oblivion. 

He gives you lush, slow licks, from your centre to your most sensitive spot, he takes his time, and moves into more sinuous motions, drawing curve after curve on his way up. He is unrushed, patient, and eloquent. He is luxuriant, explorative, curious. 

He loves what he’s doing, and he loves you and he’s showing it, top to bottom, and all the way up again. 

“Guk,” you breathe out, and it’s almost a hiccup.

“Yes, I know,” he murmurs against the bend of your inner thigh, right at the fold to your crotch. It’s so private, so sacred. It’s heartbreakingly yours and his and no one else’s. You’re in a shared space where nobody else can tell what you and him know. 

“Please,” you manage to say. 

He rearranges his arm so he can move two fingers along the seam between your legs, and then they’re inside, and he’s moving them right, rubbing them against the back wall of your entrance. 

As you tip your body forward, he moans with his mouth to your clitoris, happy with the new angle, and once you start grinding against him, climbing your way to your climax, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t go faster, he doesn’t add pressure. He does not change one single thing, and you’re so grateful for the way he has come to understand you, your body, your tells. 

“Just right,” you encourage him. “You’re so damn perfect, love— Oh, there.”

That’s the last thing you can remember saying before he sets you off like fireworks. You don’t take much into consideration after that. All is fair, unless he’s holding you back. 

You grind, hump, moan, thrash just a little as you get too sensitive and fold in two, your forehead pressed to your wrist on the headboard 

as you shake your head ‘no’ but can’t bring yourself to stop from feeling everything he wants you to take. 

When you manage to recover, you whisper, “Okay, gimme a second.” And you try to unstraddle his face, but he holds you there, and simply avoids touching your sensitive parts, removing his fingers from inside you. 

“Are you alright, Candy?”

You nod and take some large breaths. 

He moves your panties back in place, then kisses your mound softly, affectionate, innocent even. 

“Can I do anything for you now, love?” He asks with a reverent, caring note in his voice. 

You shake your head, still recovering. “Can I lay on top of you?” 

“Sure thing,” he says, unlatching from you and leaving some room for you to realign with him, face to face, torso to torso, hip to hip, calf to calf. 

He’s still hard as marble, and the gentle grind of your pelvis against his causes him to groan softly. 

You press your lips to his to distract him. 

The jeans jacket you’re still wearing gives him something to ground himself, his focus aimed entirely at the feeling of the fabric underneath his fingers instead of the humid warmth of your crotch pressed against his. 

Just then, you bring your heels underneath your ass, rising to your knees as you swiftly remove your upper garment. 

The way his focus moves immediately to your breasts makes you cackle a little, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. 

“Candy, you’ll have to get that tattooed.”

“Nah, too dangerous. They might tell on you.”

He frowns. “You’re right,” he still agrees. Too dangerous. You’re dangerous to him too, and there are not many chances of him keeping some form of dignity if he could at any time see a tattoo calling him out for his undying liaison with your chest. 

He catches your wrists, making you lose your balance so that your torso collapses onto his. And he keeps you there, wraps you up in his arms. 

“Still jealous, love?” he asks you. 

“More than ever,” you admit, and you look into his eyes, recognising the feeling pooling in them. 

“I'm only yours,” he swears, kissing the side of your head, whatever he can reach, and it's so tender, so innocent, so magical. “What can I do for you?” he whispers, flirting with you. 

You wrap your hands around his forearms and bring them up above his head. “No. I want to do things for you.”

You press your lips to his gingerly, then start to kiss down, tracking his throat and moving further downwards, to his chest, stopping where his heart thumps against the petals of your lips.

“Beats so hard for me,” you comment lightly. “Do I make your heart race, love?” 

“You do, Candy,” his reply is strained, as if it hurt to speak at that moment. 

“But I—” You let your nails tickle the flat of his waist, the elastic band around his hips— “I also make your dick hard, don't I?” 

He moans eloquently, then chuckles at your teasing. “You so do,” he admits, embarrassed but also excited, and so so thankful for having found you. 

You grab the waistband of his underwear with your teeth, letting it slap against his skin with a dry snap. “Grab a pen from your bedside, will you?”

You look up just in time to catch his eyes flickering open, his expression coming to life slowly. “What?” he asks, confused. 

“A pen, from your drawer,” you repeat. 

“Oh.” He had been too unfocused and he hadn’t realised you were talking to him, as if the words were just sound with no meaning; however, now he’s paid attention, so he stretches to the side, exposing the slender twist of his waist to your reverent mouth. You kiss him there, his body contracting as your lips attack his ticklish spot. 

“You’re a menace,” he complains, giving you the side eye, but also offering you a boyish, loving smirk. 

“And yet, you love me.”

“You’re lucky,” he says, right before you nip at his skin in reprimand. “Okay, I am the lucky one,” he concedes, returning to you with a pen in his hand. “You want this one?” he asks.

You nod and stretch for it, then peck the mole beside his navel and make your way down. 

His underwear by now is bitterly persona non grata, still you make yourself okay with it and simply move the elastic down, exposing his hipbone more fully. 

“What you gonna do?” he muses, propping himself up and staring at you bent over his pelvis. You look at him and prepare the pen, staring in his eyes as you suck at your bottom lip, torturing it a little as you think. 

“Are you gonna mark me? Sign me up?” he asks, a mocking grin on his face. 

You move the pen away and loll your tongue out, drawing a thick stripe following the shape of him in his boxers. 

He immediately drops his cocky act and arches up, sensitive, holding on barely. 

“You think you’re so smart, huh?” you scold him provokingly. “Remember where this is all coming from,” you remind him threateningly. 

He gasps as your mouth sucks his tip through the fabric, your nails tracing the indentations of his quads. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You’ve got me.”

You nod to yourself. “I do,” you say, patronising just in the slightest. And because you can you rise, remove yourself from the way, and pull at his hipbone, trying to flip him around. 

He’s alarmed, but he follows your lead. You straddle the back of his thighs, bend down, and move his underwear down, the elastic stuck under the fold of his ass, further emphasising it. It looks plump and delicious, and for a moment you’re caught admiring him. 

He’s twisting his neck to try and see what you’re doing, filled with wonder at the way your hair tumbles over, and he’s mesmerised by the shine of it, the softness of the tips, like a brush, whispering at his skin.

You pick the right spot, then settle down, folded over his glute. His skin is hot against your touch and when you finally bring the pen to his flesh, you hope it won’t fail, despite the perspiration and the soft surface. 

Shamelessly, you draw the words like an inscription on a stone. 

Poetic, and dirty. Just the way you like it. However, you don’t give him the benefit of knowledge. 

You lean back, watch your little handywork with a surging of pride and love and confidence. You smack it, just because you can, not hard, not soft either, just sweet enough that it doesn’t feel like a violation doing it without asking his permission first. 

His muscles squeeze, and his breath catches. 

Because I can, your brain keeps telling you, over and over, like a mantra. You’re allowed to. He’s yours and you’re the only one allowed to. 

“You’re getting confident with this,” he comments, and suddenly your eyes are meeting. 

He looks like something you would paint. Something you would dream of, and then wake up and sketch down in the middle of the night, caught by some sort of frenzy, some urgency mixed with an impending fear of forgetting, of losing it. Losing him. 

“I’m gonna draw you.”

He doesn’t connect the words for a bunch of seconds. Not until you’re standing up and running out of the room and he asks himself, why, why the fuck is she leaving?

“Candy?” he calls, unsure. 

He tries to see what in the world you’ve written on his ass, but you’re making your way back in the room, tablet in hand, and your steps are bouncy and your tits follow the movement so his attention is divided. 

“What— Where—?” He’s confused. 

And then you’re perched on the armchair at the corner of the room, and the light from your tablet reflects on your face, and you look spirited, caught by some urgency he can’t quite find a name for. 

“Candy, for the love of—”

“Just a bunch of minutes. A quick sketch, no more.”

He’s been patient. He’s been understanding. He’s let you tease him, and he’s let you touch him, lick him, suck him. He still has your taste all over his face and chin and he still feels the phantom touch of your breasts against his crotch and all he wants is to feel you on him, around him, against him. 

“Please,” he whines. 

“Just a minute.”

He swells. Frowns. Thrusts his hips against the mattress. 

“Almost—” you say, drawing a couple more lines. 

You’re in his arms next. “Put that down, Candy.” His face is right above yours and he’s carrying you bridal style. “Put it down,” he repeats. 

You're very still. He's looking at your quick sketch, at the way it was all a rough frame and some basic lines. “You're gonna post that? Share it as some fanart instead of a live portrait?” He throws you on the bed and you clutch your tablet harder, trying to save it from any damage. He's on top of you next, grabbing the device and moving it to his drawer before he returns upon you, blocking your wrists above your head. 

“Are you maybe going to draw it faceless, so you can sell it as a picture, to decorate somebody's house?” He bends to your ear and nips at the side of your neck. “Let my ass hang naked on someone else's wall?” 

You feel overwhelmed and surprised by his counterattack, not really knowing how to react. 

He drags his body against yours, stealing a whimper from your lips. “I think you enjoyed topping a little too much tonight.” He flips you onto your front next, and you find yourself only mildly embarrassed that he's made only one tenth of the effort it had taken you to flip him. 

He slaps your ass, and it is nowhere as playful or light as the spank you'd given him. It is his turn to grab the pen. 

“Let's see if you can walk the talk, Candy. If you like the taste of your own medicine,” he muses, and he bites your ass cheek, bending over to start writing, but accidentally finding himself unable to resist the urge to sink his teeth in your plush flesh. 

“Since I'm not a selfish asshole, I'm gonna tell you what I'm writing. Here we go, 'This ass likes spankings from Jeon Jeongguk'. What do you say? Is it true?” 

You're panting, wiggling in his hold, trying anything to see the possessed look on his face. “It's true,” you admit, breathless. 

He smirks and lands one more hit on your ass. “Damn right it is,” he says confidently. 

He tugs your underwear off harshly, almost angry. 

Soon he's naked, and so are you, and he's slipping inside you while you're still on your front, your hips arched all the way up, cupped by his hands. “Let's make this fuck more fun than your drawing, huh?” 

And when he starts, goodness, you want him to never, ever stop. 

He's ruthless, and he only asks if you're alright once, after three strokes. After that, all's fair, and he's ramming inside you in a way that makes you gasp and arch further, trying to get him even deeper, to an even better angle. 

You can't really look at him, since you'd risk a kink in your neck, but he doesn't care. He only cares about his handwriting on your ass, and his name on it. He only cares about the way you're gasping his name, and sometimes, when he slams in at the right moment, the impact causes too much of your breath to come out, so the whispered begging gets punctuated by moaned-out, hiccuped syllables. 

He smacks your ass a few more times, his hand tingling, but the spanks seem to make you happy, so he doesn't stop, and he doesn't complain either. 

“You're jealous of me, Candy,” he manages to speak, slowing down just enough so he has more of your attention. “Do you have any idea how jealous I am of you? How hard it is to feel like you want to own me half as much as I want to be yours?” He's on his knees behind you, and his thrusts grow more patient, more luscious. Richer and fuller. “Sometimes I'm scared you'll leave me, and someone else will get to have all the wonderful sex I get to have with you. Someone else will get to see your face first thing in the morning, and become a character in your cartoons, and talk about you with their granny, and bring you home for New Year's.” His face collapses close to your shoulder. “What will I do with myself, then?” 

You turn your face and you finally get to see him. “Flip me around,” you order him, but your voice is fond. “I want to look you in the eyes while you fuck me like no one else has ever.” 

His hair is fuzzy with his perspiration, and his face glistens with a light sheen of sweat. “Sure?” he asks, in confirmation. 

“I'm sure,” you comfort him. 

He's only happy once you're below him, and he's on top of you, inside you. 

You clench around him, and he frowns deeply, trying to control himself. Still, he gives a sharp jab with his hips, and it steals your breath. 

“Like that,” you praise him. “I want you to fuck me like that. Like no one else can.” 

His eyes stay wide open, stubbornly nailed to yours as he starts moving. It's hard and slow, and it makes you see stars. 

“Do you still feel like drawing?” he provokes you, “Or am I fucking you good enough?” 

You hiss and bite his arm, both to keep him humble, but also, again, because you can — and nobody else does. 

“Maybe I could get on top of you so you can watch my tits bounce, and maybe that will make you want to draw,” you bite back, and next thing you know you're both sat up, you're on his lap and he's bouncing you on his dick. 

“Definitely feeling inspired right now,” he concedes. “Maybe I should stop and paint them.” 

You push him down and he's finally with his back to the mattress, you on top. “Or maybe you could shut your mouth and get busy so I can cum.” 

The slap lands almost immediately on your ass. “Dirty mouth. And a fucking divine cunt,” he speaks through gritted teeth. 

He lets you lead for about thirty seconds, during which he stays occupied with your boobs, grabbing them, slapping them, pinching your nipples, and then he grabs your hips and stills them. 

“Touch yourself,” he orders your roughly before he starts fucking up from below you. 

It escalates quickly from there, and in less than a minute you're gone, collapsing forward, against him, and he's so thankful because he's coming too and your kegels are squeezing him just right, and he only manages to say “fucking yours” before he abandons all his inhibitions and loses himself inside you. 

You come back to reality only, and you find yourself tucked in his embrace, his body above yours. You don’t know when he flipped the two of you over, but you like his weight on top of you. 

“Hey,” you murmur, combing his hair away from his face. 

His expression is lazy and satisfied. 

Well done, you tell yourself, almost giving a pat to your own shoulder. He looks fantastically fucked, deliciously edible and perfectly yours. 

“Hey you,” he replies, with the most heavenly, blissful grin on his face. No, too tired to be a grin, more like a glowy smile. It’s not fully on, it looks like those battery-operated lights when they’re almost out of energy, a bit faded, or maybe pale. Faint, feeble, dim. Soft. Muted. If his bunny smiles were jewel tones, this was the most delicate pastel pink. A powder baby blue, almost robin egg blue. 

You want to wrap yourself in the hazy glow radiating from him, gentle as a sunny dawn in late May. 

“So glad you got those Calvin’s,” you joke, and there it is, bunny grin, ten million watts. Apparently that makes his battery die because his head collapses to your neck and he doesn’t seem willing or ready to lift himself back up. 

“So glad I made you jealous. But also sorry,” he says, truly apologetic. “I’m happy we did this. I’m happy I saw you like this.” 

His lips tickle the side of your neck, and you squirm a little, but you try not to move too much. You want to be comfortable for him to rest on. You want him to stay like that on top of you forever. “I’m still maddish. But I think I can deal with it.”

“There’s more pictures coming,” he says tentatively, and he makes the effort to pick up his head to give you a helpless look, trying to protect himself already by giving you the sweetest pair of puppy eyes he’s ever used on anyone. 

“Oh, I’m totally getting your ass branded,” you reply, saccharine. “I was thinking I could make those ribbons, like the ones the police use, except I put my name on it and I wrap it all around your chest, so they can’t drool all over your abs.”

He laughs, and the sound is boyish and playful, and lovely. You fall in love a tiny bit more. 

“Can I see the pictures in advance?”

He hums as he thinks about it for three seconds, except he already knows how he wants to play it. “Mh…” he says some more, keeping you on your toes. “No.” He looks up, testing you. “But let’s say I hope you get that cockring ready.”

You pull your head back, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not naked in your Calvin’s, right?”

He grins, gives you a devilish wink. “Maybe.”

You grab his cheeks and squeeze his face and he laughs so hard you can’t be possibly mad at him for even a nanosecond. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“And your tits will be it for me,” he flirts back. 

You shake your head. “Brat.”

And he kisses you. Just that. 

Before he hits the shower the following morning, Jeongguk inspects the damage you’ve done on him. 

He’s quite happy with it. A very faint bruise on his neck. A red splotch on his abs, and another on his hip, but nothing that won’t fade within one or two days. He knows you know the drill by now. 

He turns around to inspect his back, and he’s okay with it, nothing that will get him in trouble in case he needs to be shirtless or generically undressed around staff members. He drops his underwear and it’s only once he’s making his way to the shower that he notices something strange on his asscheek. 

Oh, fuck. Suddenly reminded of your little handiwork with the pen the night before, he bends to the side, trying to get a better view at his ass. 

He finds himself wobbling side to side, like a silly puppy chasing his tail, and that is exactly the way you find him when you enter the bathroom. 

A laugh bubbles out of you and you smack his butt playfully. “Do you need help with that?” you ask, cheery. 

“No,” he bites back, but he has the most innocent, pouty look on his face, and he is having fun a little. “Maybe,” he concedes, his voice young. 

You wrap your arms around him and rise to your toes, propping your chin on his shoulder as you hug him from behind. “I wrote, ‘Candy’s babyboy’.”

His ears go red, just the tiniest bit. “Really?” His expression is so sweet. 

“Really,” you confirm, confident, serious, and loving. 

“You’re not making fun of me,” he asks, vulnerably. 

“I promise I’m really, really not, Guk.” You kiss his shoulder. “You’re my babyboy. And my sexy man. And just mine, generally speaking.”

He nods, a happy, fulfilled look on his face. “Right.” He’s once more confident. Entirely adult. 

“Love you,” you reassure him again, and then you kiss his shoulder, again. 

He grins. There he is, your boy. “Love you too.”

Hi it's Dita, the writer, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment to keep this poor gremlin fanfic writer motivated. Bye and I LOVE YOU!!!

[0littleladybug0]

haihai :3 could u please do mayhaps a cg!steve harrington x little reader an mayhaps they the little is a bit cranky >:O and maybe just wants extra cuddles and extra baby time w cg stevieeeeeeeeeeee :D I love ur acc btw

YES I CANNN!!!

this request is the cutest thing ever i love it so much (coming from a girl that gets supper cranky when im regressed 🤭

Cg!Steve Harrington x little!reader

Summary: someones getting cranky and Stevie knows just how to help

Tags/warnings: Age regression, gender neutral reader, tooth rotting fluff from our favorite cg, spelling mistakes if you squint your eyes (theres always gonna be at least one i miss), reader being the most teeniest tinyest baby ever, reader being insecure but dw Steve is to the rescue!, no use of Y/N, ive never written for Steve before so let me know how i did!!

DNI IF NSFW

It wasn't an exaggeration that you were completely and utterly exhausted. Between classwork and picking up as many shifts as you could with your part time job, you were stacked with responsibilities and were constantly busy. Its not like you were doing it all alone though, you and Steve have both been working insanely hard. You both needed and deserved a nice break from the real world.

Your little space was just that, it was perfect for the both of you! You loved being taken care of and Steve loved having somebody to take care of, and he especially loved taking care of his sweet sweet baby.

The only issue however, was that you always had a problem verbalizing what it was you wanted. You knew that Steve loved being your caregiver and didn't mind your regression at all, intact he praised it any chance he could and was beyond supportive of everything, but you just couldn't shake the insecurities away sometimes no matter how hard you tried to.

You had spent all week without slipping into your little space, something that Steve noticed very quickly since you rarely ever go that long without regressing, even if its just for a hour or two. You wanted nothing more then to slip and be babied by your cg, but the insecurities in your head were too strong, and that made you want to slip even more.

Good thing for Steve though, he had an indescribable gift of reading you just like a book. He knew everything and anything about your regression, and he knew that the longer you stayed big, the smaller and smaller you would regress.

So when you came back home from an exhausting shift after your classes, he knew what you were doing.

You kicked off your shoes and flopped onto the couch with a small whine escaping your lips. You were so tired you didn't even see him walking over to the couch, taking a seat right by your feet, rubbing circles on your back.

"Hi baby." he cooed, "lets change you into some jamies and get you some food, how does that sound?"

The idea of being all cozied up in your favorite pjs sounded like a dream, but the thought of having to get up and actually change, you simply just didn't have the energy for that.

you wanted Steve to pick you up and carry you on his hip, change you into your jammies and give you a nice warm bottle of milk.

And Steve always knew what you wanted. Which made you want to stay big even more, but you were beginning to slip and you couldn't help it.

"No, not tiny." you pout, trying to prove your point.

"You mean this itty bitty baby right here, this little one isn't tiny hm?" he asked, tickling you slightly at your sides. "Seems pretty tiny to me."

You giggle and squirm, immediately making you slip completely into your little space.

"Cmere sweetheart, lets get you changed, your to tiny to wear your big clothes, i cant imagine thats comfy."

"Wanna be in my jammies." you nodded in agreement.

Steve got up from the couch, a confused look lacing his face when he turned to see you staring up at him with big doe eyes.

"You want me to carry you, dont you?" Steve asked, already knowing the answer to it.

"Yes please." you said shyly hiding your face.

He chuckles to himself as he put his arms under yours and hosting you up on his hip. "Good job with your manners hun, where did i get such a polite little one?"

God he loved to see you blush and hide in the crook of his neck.

After getting you into some comfy clothes and a snack in your stomach, he knew that you didnt even need a bottle to knock you out for the night. Would you still be asking for one, oh absolutely.

You began to kick your legs when he hovered you over the couch in an attempt to you you down.

"No dada! No couch!" You shook your head vigorously.

"Baby, I gotta put you down somewhere, dont you want something to eat?" Steve asked.

You let out a whine and buried your head back into the crook of Steves neck. All you wanted was to cuddle with your caregiver, you didn't want to think about what you wanted to eat, let alone have the energy to actually do it.

"Just wanna stay with you." you mumbled, your voice soft and muffled from Steves shoulder.

"Ok How about this," Steve began, holding your cheek with his free hand so that you could look at him. "What if i made you some nice *comfort food of choice* and then a bottle after, huh? How does that sound?" Steve suggested, he could tell you were tired and fussy and all down right exhausted. he couldn't imagine all the big feelings you were having right now in your little mindset.

He waiting until you slowly nodded in agreement before walking over to the kitchen, with you still on his hip of course. After the food and the bottle was done, he walked you over to the couch and placed you on his lap. He pulled a throw blanket over your back and made sure your stuffie was close to your side and put on cartoons on the TV. You didnt have to ask him what you wanted, he already knew how to treat his tiny tiny baby.

he blew on your food to make sure it wasnt too hot before holding it out to you on your baby spoon, encouraging you to eat it.

He knew that in such a little headspace the last thing you had was energy to feed yourself. He never minded helping out his baby.

"Its yummy isnt it?" He asked in between bites, never rushing you and letting you take your time with the dish.

You would nod along, clinging to Steves side feeling your hangry crankiness slowly go away.

You giggled when he licked his finger and whipped your checks clean. Your laugher to Steve was like an angle choir, he would do anything to hear that little laugh.

After you were done with your food, Steve had so hesitation feeding you your bottle next. You could feel your insecurities rise again at the though of Steve having to take care of you so much, making you cranky again.

You tried to grab the bottle from Steves hand before he tapped it away.

"Its ok baby, let dada give it to you." he reassured.

That one piece of reassurance was enough to get you back into your baby headspace as you nuzzled your head further into Steves chest with a smile.

Your bottle was quickly finished as Steve reassured you with sweet nothings throughout it. He grabbed your paci and held it out waiting for you to take it. You had no hesitation letting him place it in your mouth. He brought both arms around you now, bringing you into a big bear hug. He layed down on the couch with you on top and ran his hand through your hair.

"Sorry i was cranky today." You mumbled through your paci.

Steve looked down at you at your saddened state. He hated when you apologized for feeling your emotions.

"Hey baby, look at me." He said, bringing a hand to your cheek, brushing it slowly with his finger. "You never have to apologize for the way you feel. Its ok that your not happy and playful everyday. Every baby has their cranky days. And i will always be there to take care of you no mater if your happy or sad or cranky or tired. Im going to be there for you no matter what. Im always gonna be here for my little baby." He kissed the top of your head and tighten his grasp around you.

You nuzzled back into his chest with a soft smile on your lips.

You felt loved. You were loved. Everything was ok.

You both fell asleep holding each other on the couch, you woke up feeling cured of last nights big emotions with the help of your cg and your littlespace. And even if you woke up and you were still little, you didnt worry about being too much for Steve. You knew he would grab you a juice box, set you on the kitchen counter and make you breakfast as you watched.

You truly couldn't ask for a better dada.

But yet again, he couldn't ask for a better little one either.

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

[otgo-brooklyn]

Big Brother Slider, the true Mom Friend™

So we all have that friend, who is 100% the mom friend. And listen, are both Slider and Ice little shits of their own devices? Yes, but i'd say that Ice can be a solid Mom friend, when needed. BUT, when with Slider it just goes out of the window, and pair that with Big Brother!Slider, and you have one hell of a head cannon there.

Every time that they go to the bar, Slider doesn't even leave Ice's side, guards his drink like a feral dog, and rounds Ice up when it's time to go home

Stops Ice from having fun recklessly endangering himself

Once at the bar Ice was on his 5th Whiskey sour before a table sent over 3 shots of tequila, Ice smiled and brought one up to toast, and using his mom senses common sense, Slider abandons his chat with Goose and is at Ice's side in about 3.5 seconds saying "no no no no" takes the shots and whiskey sours out of his hand and drags Ice home

Nearly had an aneurism when he found out Ice let someone else (Goose) drive him somewhere

"YOU LET SOMEONE DRIVE YOU? WHAT IF THEY WERE TRYING TO KIDNAP YOU? KIDNAP THEN KILL YOU!? YOU KNOW PEOPLE HAVE A THING FOR YOUNG BLONDES" "WE WERE BOTH GOING BACK TO BASE, AND IM 24" "SO?? YOU'RE PRACTICALLY A BABY" "IT WAS GOOSE! AND YOU'RE ONLY A COUPLE YEARS OLDER THAN ME" "AND?? HE HAS A MUSTACHE! YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU'D TRUST SOMEONE WITH A MUSTACHE??" "YOU WERE IN THE CAR WITH ME!" "SO??"

Slider always, ALWAYS has snacks and Capri-Suns on his person incase Ice gets hungry

It's like clockwork, every time Ice starts to get hungry, hangry, cranky etc. Slider is there handing over a Capri-Sun and some carrot sticks or apple slices

"Well maybe if you didn-" Ice starts before being interrupted by Slider shoving an apple slice into his mouth mid sentence, and stopping what seems to be the next arguing match between him and Maverick in it's tracks. Ice just glowers at Slider with a pout and starts chewing on his apple slice. "I told you not to skip breakfast, now you're gonna be cranky" "Bite m-" and once more Ice is silenced with an apple slice, as Goose and Mav along with the rest of the flyboys watch on in fascinated horror as Ice's temper is swiftly and expertly derailed by Slider and his apple slices. When they're finished Slider promptly procured a Capri-Sun from somewhere and quickly shoved it within Ice's hands before he had a chance to protest. "No" Ice said looking at Slider "Drink it" "No" "Ice" "I don't want to, so im not" "Toma Mikhailovich so help me god" Slider starts, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Ice just huffs and starts to drink. The flyboys never recovered from this.

Once when filing paperwork Ice got a paper cut, as people do, and the cut is small but the tiniest, tiniest, itty bitty drop of blood wells forward and Slider already has a portable First Aid kit spread out on the desk, Neosporin on a bandaid before being wrapped around Ice's finger and Ice doesn't even blink

It's a whole 10 second ordeal and they just continue on with their lives like nothing happened

Ice coughed once after accidentally being caught out in the rain and Slider straight up commandeers the kitchen to make more soup than Ice could ever possibly consume fully convinced Ice is coming down with something

Admittedly, Ice did in fact get the flu, but Slider was too concerned to say "I told you so"

Despite everything, Slider and Ice (platonically) love each other, and Slider is 100% the mom friend between the two of them

If I forgot anything feel free to tell me!

[ickaimp]

[RotG] The Deadliest Thing in Australia

Bunny put on a rather large pair of spectacles, reached up and pulled a projector screen from…. somewhere, then pulled out a long pointer from an equally improbable location, and smacked it against the screen.

“Everything.” Bunny pronounced sternly as he glared at all of the Guardians and yeti present. “Will kill you in Australia.” Jack bit his lower lip, trying to keep from giggling. For once, he was pretty sure that the Guardian of Hope’s ire wasn’t directed at him. Even he knew better than to annoy Bunny the few weeks after Easter when the pooka was recovering from his holiday.

Tired Bunny was a cranky Bunny. And time zones were a thing. Not only had North called them all together for a meeting to socialise shortly after Easter, he’d done so during what was the middle of the night in Australia because the big lug had missed them all. North, who was now turning slightly red and blustering under breath at Bunnymund’s audacity to lecture the rest of the Guardians. Jack was pretty sure that North had forgotten that it was just past Easter. Or maybe he hadn’t. North and Bunny’s rivalry over their holidays was something that Jack had learned over the years to keep out of.  

“Let’s go over it, shall we?” Bunny drawled, like a professor to a rambunctious class. The image on the projector screen changed as Bunny started pacing in front of it. Jack glanced around for the origin of the images and once again, couldn’t find anything. 

“Obvious ones first. Spiders. Will kill ya. Snakes, oh we got your biters, your stranglers, and your sea snakes. They’ll all kill ya. Wasps require social distancing or they’ll try to kill ya. Scorpions will kill ya, check your boots in the morning.”

Jack covered his mouth with a hand to keep from laughing as he, Toothiana, Sandy, and Phil all turned to look at North, the only one in the group to wear shoes. North stared at Bunny blankly, clearly not making the connection. 

Bunny didn’t seem to notice, pushing the glasses higher up on his face. Privately, Jack thought the glasses were kind of cute on the giant ‘roo. Really brought out how pretty Bunny’s eyes were, even if they were narrowed in irritation. “Dingoes. May occasionally eat your baby or livestock, but is more likely to run away. Still. Will kill you. Platypus. One of the few venomous mammals, and it <i>is</i> painful to humans. Magpies, sing pretty songs, but like to swoop and attack you. Small kill count, but also will kill you if given a chance.” Jack winced. Yeah, magpies were pretty, but very territorial. He’d learned to avoid visiting Bunny and the continent during swooping season. They did not like to give up. “Roos look plenty friendly.” Bunny continued. “But that’s just to lull you into a false sense of security. They’ll kill ya. Wombats also look cute, but have skull crushing butts and like to oncoming cars. They’ll kill ya. Cassowary got knives in the back of their legs and will shank ya. Emus took on machine guns and <i>won</i> the war against them.”

Sandy raised his hand, an image of a jellyfish floating over his head. Bunny pointed at him with the stick. “You got it. Box jellyfish, itty bitty irukandji jellyfish, bluebottle jellyfish, stone fish, sharks, and stingrays, as we found out with Irwin. Will kill you and not care.” Jack raised his hand. “Crocodiles.” He’d never had a tv set, but even he knew of Steve Irwin and his love of crocodiles. Bunny nodded, and Jack grinned, mentally assigning himself 10 points and a gold star. 

“Crocs, yes. And let us not forget the infamous drop bears, falling out of trees onto unsuspecting creatures below.” Bunny continued, waving a paw.

Tooth raised her hand, looking confused. “I thought those were drunk koalas.”

“Over half the koala in Australia have chlamydia.” Bunnymund said flatly and Jack choked. Koalas had STDs, who knew? “Might not kill you, but why take the chance?”

Tooth nodded and seemed to wish that she’d retracted the question. Jack quickly decided he didn’t want to think about how koala got chlamydia. Just… no.

“Speaking of trees, Eucalyptus. Not only are they highly flammable, but then they explode. And even if it isn’t fire season, they’re self-pruning. Which means going for a lovely walk through the forest can mean a large limb suddenly drops on ya.” Bunny spun to look at them. “Which means that yes, even the trees want to kill you.” Jack winced in agreement. He’d had that happen a few times while visiting Down Under. Sure, a branch suddenly falling on him wouldn’t <i>kill</i> Jack, but it was still really painful. “And speaking of exploding trees, fire season.” The image behind Bunny changed to houses on fire and Jack hissed between his teeth. He hadn’t been down there during fire season, due to the fact it was summer in Australia and Jack’s busy season in the Northern Hemisphere, but it still made the news. “‘Straya is mostly desert, which means not a lot of water. Which will also kill ya if you're not prepared. The land is very flammable, and that'll kill ya. <b>Everything.</b> In Australia. Wants to kill you.”

“Cannot be everything.” North scoffed, waving a dismissive arm, and Jack winced as he ducked under the flaily limb. “Warren and you are in Australia and you are cute and fluffy!”

“Oh, no mate.” Bunny rumbled, a dangerous purr that made the hair on the back of Jack’s neck stand up. Bunny slowly and very pointedly put away the glasses, the projector screen, and the pointer stick back into whatever void he’d pulled them out of. Then he pulled out his boomerangs, lazily spinning one on a finger as he began to stalk towards them, his eyes fixed on North with the gaze of a predator going in for the kill.

Jack, Tooth, Sandy, and Phil all quickly backed away from North, who finally seemed to have caught on that he was in trouble. Jack was pretty sure that Bunny wouldn’t actually <i>kill</i> North, but better safe than sorry.

“Everything will kill you in Australia.” Bunny smiled, a baring of sharp chompers. “And I’m the deadliest one.” -fin- (Book image from Your Childhood Ruined Facebook group, thanks to @nissasjackolantern​ for adding Bunnymund. Most of Bunny’s rant is exaggerated, things I was told when I was in Australia. But not all of it. :) Crossposted to <a href=“https://archiveofourown.org/works/43214205“>Archive of our Own</a>)

[the-panmixxia]

Pound of Prevention (and an ounce of cure) Chapter 1

Before we begin the fic, I would like to preface this by saying - this is my continuation of the 'A Black Cat For (un)Luck' and is also my big bang for this year! I was lucky enough to be paired up with @im-an-anxious-wreck to create some incredible art. I hope you check them out and stay tuned for the master post! (I no longer have a pc, so I'm doing all this on mobile,,, please be kind lmao)

"Oh em gee. What's a lil cutie like you doing in here?"

Virgil froze, fur standing on edge as spook quietly tilted spooks head. In the darkness of the apartment, spooks vampire roommate lurked rather ominously. The vampire that was supposed to be at work right now, shit. Had Virgil forgotten a day off, holiday of some kind? Why the fuck was Remy here!

"An itty bitty kitty~" They purred, and faster than Virgil could blink, spook was lifted by the scruff. "Where the heck did you come from? How'd you even get in? I bet Virgil let you in, knew that little shit was keeping a secret. Honestly thought spook just had a boyfriend or some shit like that. I prefer this though."

Virgil yowled in mild irritation, willing spooks body to move so spook could get out of this embarrassing hold. Remy simply smiled, showing off a row of pearly whites, along with an intimidating set of fangs. Virgil would've been intimated if it wasn't Remy.

"Spicy lil' cayenne coffee, huh? What do you want, babes?"

'let me down!' Virgil internally roared. It came out as a fierce sounding hiss, but Remy simply cooed in spooks face. Humiliating.

"Oohhh I'm keeping you. Don't care what Virgie says. You snooze, you lose. C'mon, there's some chicken in the fridge, it's time to totally manipulate your affection and make me your fave owner. Yeah. Bet cranky lil Virge never gives you chicken, huh? Criminal. Absolutely criminal."

Virgil was plonked down on the cabinets, gentle claws scratching spooks ears before wandering off towards the fridge. Spook meowed imploringly, but was ultimately ignored. Bummer. The kitten looked around, sniffing the outlet and cringing at how filthy it was. Spook should probably clean the kitchen properly in the morning, the landlord would probably blow up and evict them both if they reported another ant infestation.

Spook peered over the edge of the cabinet as Remy was preoccupied googling what cats could eat. The answer was no they can not eat fruit loaf Remy you idiot -

Hmm. The ledge was too tall for Virgil to safely launch spookself off. In human form, spook had a reputation as the perfect blend of cat and cryptid due to the uncanny ability to appear on random surfaces and within impossible crevices - though it seemed in actual cat form, Virgil was lacking.

This called for one thing. It was time to meow frantically until everyone caved to spooks needs.

Meows began, slipping out the kitten's body with ease, practically screaming with urgency. Lemme down! Lemme down, I want down!

It was effective, Remy whipping around and staring at Virgil as if the kitten had burst into song or something as equally baffling. After a second, Remy shook their head and stood up, shushing loudly.

"Shhh, no, shhh! You're gonna wake Virgil up! That little goth is deprived of sleep as it, we can't be waking spook up."

Aw. Well, that was almost cute.

"Plus, spooks such a stress head, I know if spook wakes up I'll just get chewed out for calling in sick today."

So that's why Remy was still here? Virgil hadn't forgotten their shifts. Little shit. Spook yowled in the utmost distaste, and Remy just narrowed his eyes, hands on hips.

"Don't give me that look, you crusty little feline. You gotta take a day off every once in a while, keep your boss on their toes."

Crusty? How could anyone be so cruel to a little kitten? Virgil hissed in offense, swiping tiny claws towards spooks roommate.

Remy seemed to interpret the dangerous display as an urge to be picked up, as Virgil was once again in spooks roommate's arms - thankfully the hold was no longer on Virgil's scruff and instead cradled in Remy's arms, the gentle kiss to spooks head was vastly different to Remy's usual casual affection.

"C'mon, hissy-boy, let's grab you something to eat. I'll just give ya, yup, there it is. Eat this, babes, hear cats go nuts over this stuff."

Four paws landed on a cheap laminate floor, as Remy placed both the cat and a take-away container of dry chicken down. Huh. At least it was human food? Yeah, it was certainly more appealing than the strange oat food that Virgil was fed the last time a person found spook in kitten form.

"Alright, babes! I think we just became besties, huh? Are you my best friend? I'm gonna tell Virgil I've ditched spook for you. I'm sure I'll be forgiven."

Well, at least that much was true. If Remy had brought home another cat Virgil would have been more than happy to house the little thing, but that wasn't the point! There was no way Virgil would tell Remy about this predicament either, they'd never let spook live it down. Virgil bumps spooks head against Remy's leg gently, to signal spook was finished eating.

"Aw. I guess I'll let you mooch around. Gotta get out of these day clothes," Remy tugged on their pajamas "and into something stylish. B-R-B, kitty cat."

This gave Virgil some time on spooks own, mooching around the apartment - spook never normally left spooks room during these nightly spells, but Virgil didn't realize how different everything would look from down here. Even the chipped coffee table looked like some sort of landmark.

The shower kicked in a few moments later, while Virgil was trying to scale the couch, and spook was quietly happy that spook wasn't sleeping - Remy didn't have a great gauge of how much noise they were making, and had woken Virgil up on multiple occasions.

The time alone have Virgil time to ponder spooks predicament for the millionth time. As inconvenient as this curse is, Janus really could've hit spook with something a lot more deadly - Virgil is thankful for that, at least, but really how long can the bitter mage keep this going? There is a time limit, surely. Virgil can't spend spooks entire life turning into a kitten every night like some mockery of Princess Fiona. Maybe, just maybe, Virgil should speak to Janus again. Not to forgive him. To stop this. Yeah, that was it.

It's Janus that should be asking for Virgil's forgiveness, anyway. It's totally immoral to curse your former best friend and roommate. Probably. In fact, the mage was so far up his own ass with all that philosophy crap, he'd probably go on a long monologue on how perfectly moral this whole situation is while also dressing down the idea of morality or… Something. Virgil kind of tuned out of those debates.

Yeah, no, contacting Janus would be spooks last choice. Virgil was not interested in trying to appeal to their ego again, especially not with Remus around, being a little shit and stoking the flame.

Virgil huffed and tried to find a position that was comfortable to curl up on. Being much smaller only seemed to magnify the lumps and bumps in the old piece of furniture, the stuffing underneath the fake leather was compressed into a texture resembling porridge, and still smelt like the sidewalk spook and Remy dragged it from. Vampires had advanced senses of smell, so could Remy smell this shit all the time? Are they used to it? It was so gross. No wonder Virgil burst out in pimples whenever spook crashed on the couch.

A curt knock rapped on the apartment door. Virgil froze on the couch and tilted spooks head. They weren't expecting anyone, unless Remy decided to pull a 'roommate mega dick move' and invite friends over, in the middle of the night, without telling Virgil.

The mystery person knocked again, but the shower kept running and there were no other indications that Remy heard the door. Virgil tediously jumped down, trying to utilize the powers of this strange body spook was inhabiting to listen in on clues of who this may be-

"Hey, Microsoft-nerd, we aren't knocking on doors! Waking up the neighbours is not the way to get help in feline forage!"

The voice was unfamiliar to Virgil, as was the answering voice, much closer to the door.

"I am aware of the standard procedure, Roman. However, on this occasion, I can sense a fellow vampire is inside and thus there is a high chance they'll answer the door. Though that does not seem to be the case right now…"

"Shoot, can't you use your magic vampire brain to communicate?"

"No, Roman, that only works with fellow coven members. And even then it takes an especially large bond to send comments or instructions. It's mostly feelings of visions of something - like sending the sense of danger out to alert the whole coven to a hostility."

"Ugh,whatever - just post the flyer. Patton is awaiting our return. He's cooking Madras! With venison."

"Roman we have several more apartments to visit -"

Virgil jumped back with a slight squeak, as a menacing object floated from the letter box to where spook was just standing. Once it had landed, Virgil could properly inspect it. It seemed to be a lost poster, with the words MISSING KITTEN in a bold, red font. A stock image of a black kitten graced the front, watermark pasted all over, with an arrow labeling it 'KITTEN LOOKS LIKE THIS' as well as a few paragraphs of text all around, explaining that this kitten had somehow got out of the apartment, that they were a rescue and not at an adoptable age, that they'll seek out warm small areas to keep warm and safe, and very kindly asking residents to keep an eye out. There was a whole $800 listed as reward money.

Virgil's first thought was pity, some poor person had lost a cat they'd tried to rescue, and was clearly trying their best to find the lil thing. Hell, Virgil should probably help look for it tomorrow, eight hundred could really help spook and Remy out this month.

Virgil's second thought, after briefly skimming contact information, was 'oh shit'. 'Please Contact Patton,' was at the bottom, with a telephone number, and beneath that was the apartment number. The apartment that Virgil had crawled out of when snatched by a werewolf.

Patton, that was the werewolf's name. Spook remembers the uncomfortable elevator ride where Patton introduced faemself, there's absolutely no mistaking it, Patton wasn't exactly a super common name. The two at the door were talking about a Patton as well, weren't they? One was a vampire, which didn't make sense, but was the other part of Patton's pack?

This was a lot of trouble to go through for one scrappy kitten, if Remy's theory was true.

Would Patton eat a kitten?

It's not like Virgil knows the were properly, but spook did spend a night with Patton, a night where Patton thought fae was interacting with a real kitten and therefore had no reason to be fake nice to spook. Shit, had Virgil just judged this were on event that even spook didn't think happened?

"Ooh, what'cha got, gurl? You gonna bring me my mail like a lil puppy?" A voice coos, Virgil snapping out of spooks character development to look up at an amused Remy who was perched on the arm of the stinky ass couch.

The vamp was dressed down in lounge wear, though it was glaringly obviously the 'Falling In Reverse' band shirt was Virgil's and not Remy's. Virgil stared distastefully at spooks roommate, grumpy sounds leaving the kittens tiny body. Remy glowered right back, pointing at the creature.

"Oh, you must be Virgil's pet. No one else can embody that much grumpy emo vibes. Spook has a billion tees, I'm just wearing it this once."

That was such a Remy response. Unable to roll spooks eyes at the vampire, Virgil opted to turn back around and paw the flyer once more. Over here, idiot, come read this.

Remy, for once, didn't use his vampire powers to teleport across the room, and instead took a rather leisurely stroll across the room, crouching down to read.

"Hmmm, missing cat… Is that you? Did Virgie steal someone's pet, huh?" They lifted the page closer, inspecting it with pursed lips. Remy's eyes were a very pleasing shade of red behind those shades, it was quite nice to see. Virgil moved closer, seating spookself on Remy's socked foot, and as planned, receiving a pleasant head scratch.

"Wait. Hold the fucking phone, I know that apartment, that's fucking Wolfie's apartment. Holy crap, what a psycho, he's actually putting out lost posters? Did you manage to escape his dinner plate or something?"

Remy scooped the kitten up, holding Virgil close with a protective grumble. Like a feral wolf was going to burst through the door and gobble spook up. Virgil made sure to warble out a disgruntled noise at the vampire.

"Hold your horses, puss-puss, it says here you went missing last Wednesday and that's when Virgil crawled through my window like a creep," Remy held the little body up to eye level, staring so intensely, and for a second was sure Remy was a gorgon with how still spook got. Did they figure it out? How?

"That must've been what spook was doing, rescuing you! Honestly, I didn't think Virge had enough courage to break into a were's house to steal something. Spook can't even say spooks order at the drive thru, so I'm thoroughly impressed."

Well that was both rude and awfully convenient, as much as Virgil trusted spooks roommate on matters of life and death… Honestly, Remy likely wouldn't let Virgil live it down if they found out that spook turned into a tiny kitten each night. Virgil would rather not deal with the embarrassment.

"Come on, you. I wanna watch Grey's Anatomy and I'm not letting you wander round the apartment. You'd probably piss on something."

That was rude. Virgil had excellent control of spooks bladder, thank you very much. Still, this was at least a way to watch the soap without pretending it was cringey, spook supposed. Remy draped across the god awful sofa, falling into a position Virgil had seen spooks roommate in many times, and settled the tiny body of Virgil on his chest. Since Remy didn't have body heat, it was rather like laying on a tiled floor - or having the pillow be permanently cold. Virgil decided spook liked it that way, and a gentle purr started up.

Remy's expression, still trained on the television as they searched for the show, turned down right gooey.

"You cute little thing. You're gonna love watching this, look, Meredith has just gone seeing her dad and Thatcher is there. Not British Thatcher, this one's a dude. Was in Prison Break as well, we can watch that one later."

Maybe this is why Latte ran away. Contrary to what Remy believes, most cats aren't down to sit still and watch endless sitcoms.

As the hours ticked on, Virgil tried many times to sneak away. It seemed Remy was adamant to stay on the couch all night and to keep spook right next to them. Rigorous squirming landed Virgil to be sat in a shoebox full of newspaper - something spook hadn't noticed Remy making before all this - then listening to the vampire repeat a 'potty' command repeatedly. Embarrassingly, Virgil had used it, but only once. Spooks dumbass roommate hadn't given Virgil a single drop of water.

Still pressed against Remy's cold chest, Virgil could barely make out the busted kitchen clock as it struggled its way towards half nine. Shit. Shit, Virgil was screwed.

Hissing and yowling had not worked all night, though Virgil was currently weighing the pros and cons to scratching Remy's eyes out. The vampire in question sighed at spooks dramatics, scooping the kitten up and plonking it back into the DIY litter tray. This time, Remy stood up, stretching long limbs and teasing their curls into an effortless, glamorous bedhead. Red eyes stared into green for a moment before Remy let out a loud yawn.

"You stay there, puss. I need a leak, then I'm gonna cook Virge some breakfast. Try and sweeten spook up before I ask for a feeding, heh."

Aw, that was almost sweet. In a way. Virgil was gonna enjoy that breakfast, if spook could just escape this darn box while Remy was out of the room. Huzzah! Freedom.

The box tilted over, freeing the black kitten, as spook made a mad dash for spooks bedroom, luckily it always had a jar open.

At that moment, the magic began to tingle, signaling to Virgil that time was up, but spook was nearly to the bedroom. Unfortunately, a loud 'hey!' distracted spook, turning to look at the vampire that seemed rather peeved about the cat escaping. A stagger on an uneven rug had Virgil tripping up, unfortunately the transformation completed itself at that moment, meaning Virgil's human body grew itself big enough to smack full force into the door, leaving the emo flat on the floor with a light groan.

The door was pushed with quite some force, hitting the doorstop and coming back to bap Virgil a second time. Brilliant.

Virgil sighed into the cheap olefin carpet, hearing hesitant feet shuffle around to get a better look. Spook bent spooks neck awkwardly, looking at Remy with squinting eyes. The vampire looked completely befuddled, before lips began to curve upwards into a big smile. A big, overly smug smile.

"Oh, babes. You've got some tea to spill!"

[paldean-ranger-brandy]

100 followers event

There was an anon that requested Brandy trying and failing to catch an invasive species for the shenanigans. Tumblr ate that anon (idk how it was just suddenly gone??) but I think I got the gist of it.

Tagtree Thicket always looked best, in Brandy’s opinion, on overcast days. It was a forest that housed mostly dark, poison, and ghost pokemon. Direct sunlight just didn’t fit the moody vibe that its inhabitants preferred. Overcast days, however, gave the thick canopy a chance to really blanket the forest in a perfect, sullen darkness. It was easy to see how much the pokemon residents of the forest preferred this - they skulked around with much more pizazz on days where the sun left them alone. So she was thrilled to find that the day she was to guide a team of researchers through the forest the sky was blanketed in clouds. She always preferred to show off the forest’s best side when company was coming over.

Which was part of the reason Brandy was trying to be extra thorough in her patrol that day. Sure, two of her team members at the ranger base had already completed their rounds of the thicket, but if we’re all being honest here they just weren’t as good at it as Brandy was. It wasn’t their fault, neither of them had more than a year of experience under their belt. But Brandy would be damned if she let herself get embarrassed because a couple of newbies couldn’t remember fletchling did not belong in her forest.

Besides, she just had a better system when it came to patrol. Her and Michael would split up, with one walking in a spiral towards the centre of the forest and the other walking in a spiral outwards. This way they were able to pretty thoroughly check every nook and cranny. And, as it turned out about a half hour into Brandy’s spiral, they were correct to have not entirely trusted her team. An excited yipping from Michael informed her that there was something that needed her attention, using a tone she recognized as standing for ‘this is non urgent’.

When she located her partner pokemon he was still yipping, circling around the base of a tree and excitedly looking up at something in the branches. Brandy followed his gaze and had to resist the urge to squeal in delight.

Glaring down at her and looking like the very image of cranky arrogance, was an itty bitty baby vullaby. It was, in Brandy’s eyes, the cutest baby pokemon on the planet. She couldn’t stop herself from flapping her fists around in delight, just for a quick moment. This was, of course a pokemon that was very, incredibly, extremely not native to Tagtree Thicket. Or Paldea as a whole. But really, that just gave Brandy an excuse to buddy up to the little bird so she could escort it out of her forest.

“Hey there, sweet little baby dough ball.” Brandy crooned, slowly approaching the tree in an attempt to climb up to the baby bird without frightening it away. “Poor little thing. You’re not supposed to be in a forest at all. You must be so scared. Did your mean ol’ trainer let you wander off?”

Brandy started slowly climbing up the tree towards the vullaby, crooning the entire time in the hopes of keeping it calm. They climbed the tree with swift confidence, and even at their slow pace Brandy was able to reach the branch the vullaby was occupying rather quickly. As they put their foot down on the vullaby’s tree branch however, the small bird gave an indignant squawk and hopped a little further away. 

“Hey, hey. Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m gonna get you out of this scary tree and we’re gonna be friends, okay?” Brandy’s typical method for using her capture styler on wild pokemon who were feeling a little antsy was to launch the disk and then just hold it at her feet or in her hand for a second to give the pokemon a chance to get used to the sight and sound. They found that an anxious pokemon that had a weird, whirring disk suddenly launched at them were a lot more likely to startle and either run or attack than one who was given a second to look at the capture disk.

This method did not work for vullaby. The moment the disk was launched from Brandy’s styler the bird gave what could only be described as a ‘battle squawk’ and proceeded to jump up and ground pound the tree branch they were both on, super mario style. The branch, of course, immediately broke and sent the both of them tumbling towards the ground.

“Ow, fuck, are you fucking kidding me?” Brandy hit the ground hard, managing to roll to disperse most of the impact. The vullaby hit the ground not far from Brandy, and was immediately toddling off and away from them and Michael with startling speed. “Oh goddam- Michael, track!”

Michael tore off in hot pursuit of the waddling baby bird, yipping and howling to communicate his location to Brandy as he ran. Brandy got up, brushed themselves off, and then took off after the commotion.

It didn’t take the two of them long to corner the baby bird again. It was fast, but it was still just a tiny baby bird. This time Brandy didn’t waste any time in whipping out their styler to start drawing loops around the vullaby. Surely it wouldn’t take too many circles to complete the capture, Brandy couldn’t imagine it would be more than five and then she could-

“SQUAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Rather than launching an attack that Brandy could easily dodge, the vullaby opted instead for screaming at the top of its apparently very powerful longs. It was so loud and so sudden that Brandy instinctively covered their ears, which interrupted the capture. 

The vullaby immediately took the opportunity to run again. However, she had to run right by Brandy to escape. And Brandy’s reflexes were nothing to sneeze at.

“Gotcha, ya little punk.” Brandy snatched the baby by its little skull diaper. The vullaby kicked her little legs furiously. “Yeah, I know, this is really so mean of me. But ya can’t - eugh!”

Brandy jumped backwards, shooting her arms out to hold the vullaby as far away from herself as possible. She was forcibly reminded of an excerpt from an article she had read on mandibuzz a while back;

‘Their method of self-defense is to vomit their food, which they can send sailing 10 feet. If a mandibuzz is disturbed or harassed, it will throw up on the pokemon who is bothering it. Even the baby vullabies will vomit on other pokemon. Though these behaviors might distress people, they serve the mandibuzz line well. Vullaby vomit is an effective predator repellent.’

It became immediately apparent why this method of defense was so effective. Every instinct in Brandy’s body was screaming at her to drop the disgusting baby bird as fast as possible, and maybe even punt it away for good measure. But she had guests coming to the forest. Scientific guests, who would be able to tell immediately that this vullaby was wildly invasive to the forest that Brandy was responsible for. And so with a righteousness that would make arceus themself tremble, Brandy held on to the disgusting, wriggling vullaby.

Eventually, blessedly, the vullaby stilled. It glared at Brandy. Brandy glared back. Like hell was she gonna let this stupid idiot baby beat her in a staring contest. Brandy would stand there all day if they needed-

The stupid idiot baby blinked first. Probably because the stupid idiot baby wasn’t aware that it was in a staring contest, but Brandy took it as a surrender nonetheless. 

“You are an evil little bastard bird, and you ruined my uniform.” Brandy informed the vullaby. She took a deep breath, which she immediately regretted. The smell from vullaby’s onslaught was going to linger, it seemed. “But you are an adorable evil little bastard. C’mon, stinky baby. Let’s get you back to the base.”

Brandy, Michael, and the vullaby made their way through the forest. Vullaby spend the entire time squawking away, though Brandy liked to imagine the vullaby was making conversation and not cussing Brandy out. Brandy was wrong about this, but it was still a nice thought.

When they finally reached the base they found a team of strangers - the researchers, Brandy assumed - talking excitedly with Brandy’s base leader, Joel.

“Hey, hey. Anyone lose a vullaby?”Brandy called out to them, mentally wincing at the fact that she wouldn’t have a chance to at least change her shirt before taking the group out. 

The group looked over at Brandy’s shout. One of the researchers, a lady in a skirt that was not at all well suited to a day in the outdoors, immediately began checking her pokeballs. 

“Oh, my sweet baby Chanel! Oh, you are such a little prankster, when did you leave your pokeball? Silly little baby, come here.”

Brandy walked the baby vullaby, Chanel, over to the woman. She handed the bird over, mustering a smile that she hoped was charming enough to distract from her vomit-covered shirt. “She’s quite the little runner. You know you should definitely try to keep an eye on her, at this age they can really-” 

The moment that Chanel was out of Brandy’s hands and back with the woman, it gave another ‘battle squawk’. And with a swift bite to the woman’s hand and a strategic wiggle, she was once again free. Brandy could not hold back the dirty look she shot to the researcher as Chanel once again disappeared into the treeline.

[memento-rory]

✭ 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭. 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆.

✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: schlatt shares a secret with you, and an unexpected groomsman shows up early.

✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a little ted x reader 😏

✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~1.8k

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: eeeeeee part three is finally here! it’s a little bit of filler but, like, meaningful filler. enjoy! 🩵

You don’t want to be a buzzkill, but it’s hard to regulate your anxiety after the snake incident. Making your way back down the trail, in the same direction you came, proves to be pretty difficult when you have no idea where the snake fucked off to. Amelia holds your hand, leading you down the trail, but once you get back to the exact spot the snake was before, your legs start to turn to jelly.

“Do you want Schlatt to carry you again?” Amelia asks, and you see Schlatt pause in front of you.

“No,” You answer, probably too quickly, but you can’t help that. It was bad enough he felt the need to carry you in the first place, you aren’t about to embarrass yourself a second time by needing him. “I can do it, it’s okay.”

“Okay…” Amelia trails off, clearly struggling to believe you — and honestly, you don’t blame her. You’ve slowed down a significant amount since coming upon the spot.

“It’s okay if you can’t.” James says over his shoulder, before stopping. “Snakes are scary as fuck. We get it.” He gives you a comforting smile, “Come on, I’ll carry you this time. It’ll be good for me, since I’m skipping the gym this week.”

You narrow your eyes at him and his eyes go wide. “Oh my God, no I didn’t mean it like that, I swear.” He puts a hand over his heart and a laugh bubbles up and out of you. James has always been good at easing tension.

“Come on wit’ it, girl,” James beckons you to him with a playful grin before squatting down like Schlatt had before. You hop onto his back with ease, and he does a few more squats to show off, winking over at Amelia, who rolls her eyes. “Oh, yeah.” He nods, “I’ve still got it.”

“Alright, enough fuckin’ around,” Schlatt says, a hint of a scowl on his face, “We’ve got other shit to do.”

“Damn. Okay, Captain Cranky,” James mutters under his breath, falling in step behind Schlatt. Amelia shoots you a confused look, one that says, ‘What’s his problem all of a sudden?’ and you just shrug. You know Amelia was probably feeling hopeful that whatever issues you and Schlatt have with each other had just melted away in a single moment.

But you know it would take a hell of a lot more than that.

The next few hours go by surprisingly well — Schlatt keeps his distance on the beach and the boat, though there was a small moment where you feared he might shove you off of the boat, but you digress. As long as he continues to keep his distance, you’re perfectly content.

Except maybe you’re not.

There’s a small, little, itty bitty part of your heart that clenches as you recall how Schlatt had immediately come to your rescue earlier today, no questions asked, doing the most to make you feel safe. It would have been so easy for him to ignore your fears, to laugh in your face and tell you to get the fuck over it — and you’d expected him to do just that, but he’d put aside whatever his problem is with you to take care of you.

You feel like you should say something about it when you return to your rooms, thank him again, maybe, but the disdain in the way he said, “Don’t mention it.” plays on a loop in your head.

So you don’t. Instead, you follow several feet behind him, completely brushing past him as he sticks his card key in the slot of his door. He doesn’t spare you a single glance.

When you get in your room, you peel off your wet clothes and take a shower before changing into something dry and comfortable. Amelia and James are off doing couple-y things, so you have some time to yourself. You think about going out and exploring, but after the morning you’ve had, you think better of it. You need some good ol’ fashioned R&R right about now, and that balcony view is calling your name.

You grab your book and your headphones, heading out onto the balcony. You’re pleased to find that Schlatt is nowhere to be seen. You make yourself comfortable in one of the chairs, kicking your legs up onto the glass table and putting your headphones in. You press play on your favorite playlist and open up your book, immediately getting lost in it.

You read for a good hour before you just barely hear the sound of the sliding door of Schlatt’s room opening in between songs. You don’t look up, simply ignoring him as he comes outside.

That little voice in your head won’t shut up, though — the one that says you should thank him again. After thirty more minutes of distracted reading, you very discreetly pull one headphone out of your ear, turning the volume down on your phone. You look up to see Schlatt lounging in one of the chairs, with one hand resting behind his head, using the other to scroll aimlessly on his phone.

“Hey, um,” You speak up, and you see Schlatt’s eye just barely move to look at you through his peripherals. “Thanks, again, for earlier. I really appreciated it.” It’s hard to get the words out, and you can tell Schlatt clocks the strain in your voice, but you get them out nonetheless.

“It’s whatever.” Schlatt says with a shrug, not bothering to look at you.

Your lips press into a thin line as you get exactly the reaction you expected to.

But suddenly, Schlatt’s sitting up and turning to face your balcony. “Mel didn’t know you’re afraid of snakes?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. “Nope,” you say casually.

Schlatt’s scowls over at you in confusion. “Y’ never told her?”

“If she didn’t know, then chances are I never told her, no.”

Schlatt ignores your smart remark. “So, what, I’m the only one that knows?”

You pause, resisting the urge to huff out a frustrated sigh over this conversation. You wish Schlatt would leave it alone. You hate being reminded that Schlatt knows you more intimately than most.

“I’m the only one that knows.” Schlatt says in realization, and you turn your head away from his gaze to look at the view, hoping he can’t see the way your cheeks grow pink.

A beat of silence passes between the two of you.

“…I’m claustrophobic.” Schlatt utters, switching his own gaze to look over the ocean. “Have all kinds ‘f fuckin’ nightmares about being trapped in small spaces.”

You keep your eyes on the horizon. “I didn’t know that.”

“Nobody does,” Schlatt tells you, standing up from his chair. “Now we’re even.” He says, before disappearing back into his room.

A couple hours later, you’re almost fully finished with your book when your phone pings.

> wedding partaaay! 👰‍♀️🤵‍♂️

> from: ams 🩵

>> put your dancing shoes on, friends! we’re leaving in an hour! 💃🏻

You give a heart react to Amelia’s message, standing up from the balcony to head back inside to get ready.

You cycle through the outfits you’ve packed, trying to figure out what you should wear. When they’re all laid out on the bed, you snap a pic of all your options and send it to Amelia for feedback.

> from: ams 🩵

>> wear the one with the red top. makes your tits look fuckin awesome.

You snort out a laugh, sending her a thumbs up emoji before setting your phone down to play some music while you get ready. You really go all out, taking your time to get yourself all pretty to enjoy the evening. Who knows, maybe you’ll capture someone’s attention on the dance floor. Anything’s possible.

When you’re finally ready, you snap a quick pic of yourself in a couple different poses, and then you grab your purse and head out the door. As soon as you close the door behind you, the door to Schlatt’s room opens, and he stops suddenly, his eyes drifting down your body. You brace yourself for the sleazy bullshit about to come out of his mouth.

“Y’ look nice.” Schlatt says, surprising you. You quirk an eyebrow.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

An awkward silence descends over you, the two of you just awkwardly standing in the hallway. It gets to be a little too much, so you make the first move to step away from him to head to the elevator. He follows after you, and the two of you get into the elevator together.

It’s silent again, and you realize just how small elevators are. You look up at Schlatt, pursing your lips.

“So…” You start, “Elevators. They scare you?”

Schlatt almost smiles but it quickly turns into a neutral expression. “Nah. Like, maybe if it got stuck for a long time, but I can handle a minute in ‘em.”

“Hmm.” is all you say in response.

Amelia lets out a long, “Okaaaay!” as you stride up to her on the outskirts of the lobby, striking a pose, which then prompts James to play paparazzi for a second, taking so many up close photos of you and Amelia together with his phone. You both dissolve into giggles at the silliness of it all, and all of the craziness that’s happened today washes off of your shoulders. You’re fuckin’ ready to party.

Schlatt stands off to the side, checking his phone, and James all but tackles him and wraps an arm around his shoulders, shaking him excitedly. “Get pumped, bro!”

Schlatt laughs, shimmying out of James’ grip, “I’m pumped, dude.”

“I’m super fuckin’ pumped,” You hear a deep voice behind your little group, and you spin around to see Ted with his arms wide open. “Surprise!”

“Teddy!” You and Amelia call out in unison, both rushing him for a hug.

“I thought you weren’t gonna make it until later this week!” James says, and Ted beams, his arms around you and Amelia’s shoulders.

“What can I say, I’m persuasive,” Ted says, “Managed to convince my boss to let me come out early.” He looks down at you and Amelia and then over at James. “You guys look good as fuck. What are we doin’?”

“Clubbin’,” Amelia grins up at him. “You in?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m in.” Ted nods, pulling away from the two of you. “I gotta find somewhere to change, though. My room’s not ready because I showed up too early.”

“I got you, man,” Schlatt says, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “You can bunk with me for a few days.”

“Hell yeah, dude,” Ted nods, grabbing his suitcase, “Lead the way.”

“We’ll meet you at the club, I’ll send you the address.” James offers.

“Sounds good.” Ted responds, turning around to follow after Schlatt, but before they get very far, he turns back around.

“(Y/N)!” He calls out, and you turn around to see him smirking at you. “Save me a dance.”

Ted winks at you and you blush, nodding your head to promise him that dance.

You don’t see the way Schlatt’s face contorts with jealousy.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✭ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 →

[koropukgoro]

My mind goes back and forth between putting tiny favs in situations of extreme stress and then being taken care of by pals in an attempt to make them feel normal.

[jiminrings]

yES vball coach jk pls about their first fight as a couple?? maybe??

mvp: first fight

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: jungkook is more on the oblivious sLASH insensitive side, y/n’s outlet is hurling volleyballs against the wall, and yoongi just wants to cheer everyone up with his mascot suit :D

notes: another coach koo drabble because i am unhinged <3

read mvp, the piece that started off y/n and koo!! + in which jungkook is extra clingy

you’re rEALLY used to jungkook being affectionate and clingy

no surprise really

he’s practically attached to you by the hip atleast in four out of the seven days in the week

but there’s something

just sOmething different with the way he’s hugging you from behind right now

and the trail of kisses from your shoulder to your jaw is gentle and nOt playful

almost as if he’s done something wrong and he’s making up for it

aha

....... aha ........?

“did you accidentally drop one of my succulents more than a hundred feet down again?”

jungkook doesn’t even tense up at that and you take it as a signal that he didn’t

gOOD because you are running out of lil succulents and jimin’s running out of name ideas for the lil guys

your boyfriend only huffs and frowns because for the last time he did not sabotage mr. prick !!! he was in the balcony holding him out in the sun when a giAnt dove suddenly flew to him and that’s when he panicked

“did you eat jimin’s special pasta and you’re now asking me for immunity?”

“no but thank you for letting me know”

ok that’s it

you break free from his back hug and face jungkook with an inquiring look and he shrinks at the thought of what he’s gonna say next

“then tell me what’s going on, koo.”

“it’s- uhm,” jungkook turns you around again and rests his chin on your shoulder because he’d rather not see your reaction

he knows you’re probably gonna give him the most pleading puppy dog eyes and maybe he’d cave right then and there with nO questions asked

“you know our date by the end of this week?”

“yeah!! oh my god i’m sO excited-“ you immediately gush because actually things have been so busy for the both of you and this is the perfect chance for relieving stress bUt-

“oh.”

“have to drive upstate for this workshop for coaches, baby. it’s something new for us before the season starts and uH well it’s gonna last for three days.,.,.”

three days

that’s cool :D

the season is about to start and so the pressure is on if your team could make this a back-to-back win :D

of course practice is hArd as it should be just so everyone’s on their toes as skilled and as in shape one could be

the heat is SIZZLING in this kitchen

there’s no time for slacking around

frankly, date night fell onto one of the only days that there’s gonna be a break in your team’s schedule :)))

not that it mATTERS or anything like that

you’re also pressured because your comeback after ur iconic injury that was televised made you even mOre highly-anticipated

you’re gonna bREAK one of these days ur very sure of it

“it’s okay, jungkook. it’s out of my reach anyways :))”

uGh what did he do to deserve such a precious understanding thing like you are

you’ve guess you gotten a tad bit better in your acting skills then because your boyfriend doesn’t suspect a single tHing

all ur monitoring and taehyung forcing you to watch and critique him as he practices for his auditions is paying off!!

“tae i think we both know that i’m nOt qualified to give you acting pointers!!”

“which is eXACTLY my point!! that’s why i called up my most clueless and unwilling friend ever!!! because if it’s good enough for a no-brained then it would be the bEST for people with-...”

“ok that was rude :((“

he kissed your cheek as an apology and promised to dine out with you for honey-glazed chicken and sUddenly you’re not plotting to hit tae with a volleyball to the head “accidentally” during practice tomorrow <3

but unlike taehyung, jungkook can’t fix it up with a single kiss to the cheek

you can’t help but feel upset ok it’s in your nature!!

your momentum’s deflated and the little itty bitty hope that you and jungkook can be there for each other is now cRUSHED

“i’ll miss you.”

jungkook’s heart whooshes at the feeling of you hugging him just sO dearly that he’s very tempted to just ditch this

him hugging you back with the same intesity doesn’t make it better because rn you’re mumbling to his chest

“i’ll miss you mORE :((“

ok even jimin’s gonna miss kook

his heart also goes out for you because he knows you’re beyond stressed with your comeback and all that

jimin saw you eating cereal one morning when kook wasn’t by your side because he was over at his oWN apartment

can u believe it,,, jungkook having his own apartment yet mOST of the time he stays over and even eats jimin’s stock of cold marshmallows by the fridge <3

anyways u were eating cereal and then suddenly jimin was practically alerted awake when you mumbled out of nowhere

“do you think i could serve a float as good as this cereal does?”

that was clearly a red flag that you ventured too far out into your spiral of worry because fIRST of all

yeah you do love volleyball of course!!!

but often it’s nice that not every second you spend revolves around it y’know

if your practice is done and your games are over that’s it nO more talking about volleyball pls

you could manage with the occasional praising for each other’s play over meals and rides and all that

but you don’t want anything more because it’s just can we please talk about things other than volleyball PLEASE

at the start you thought it would be difficult because well :D you are living with your best friend that happens to be your assistant coach :D

but surprisingly it was easy!! jimin shared those exact same thoughts and your flow of conversation (that doesn’t include your athleticism nor profession) is endless at this point

even became easier because now your boyfriend is the coach and he’s practically living with you

that startled jimin because you hATE talking about volleyball so early in the morning and especially over breakfast

but here you were...

talking about your damn floats just from looking in too much at your cereal

“hey, it’s okay!! we’ll get you through these three days just fine!!”

jimin hugs you as soon as jungkook takes off because he can’t have you dwelling and moping now can he

you’re just mumbling in defenseless against his chest because you obviOusly can’t do anything about it

you were tempted to pluck out his wallet just so he’d get back for it but jimin was looking at you from across the room

you were at the planning stage and jimin’s aLREADY at the scolding stage

three days!!! just three ridiculously-pressured, nerve-wracking, mind-boggling days!!

how hard could it be??

aha

spoiler alert: it is immensely hard :D

you’re so nervous and jittery to the point yoongi was concerned with how much coffee you drank and that’s coming from hIM

then you told him you drank none and you swear he ceased functioning after that

jimin had to drag you out every twenty minutes because either you were being too gentle or being too harsh that he winces himself when you spike tOO hard

and that could only mean one thing

you’re on spiral number two

which means you are nOw inseparable from volleyball

by day two you were no longer moping about jungkook’s absence and his inherent ability to calm you down

no you are even bArely thinking about him :D

you now breathe speak exhale volleyball

y/n’s monster rage play kept appearing even when you’re just against the players in your own team and now they r getting cranky little by little

they serve and then you sLAM

jimin had to call out a break for you forcibly and even used his official I’m The Coach Don’t Complain voice on you that you hate :((

“now you’re getting TOO much into playing!!”

“i don’t get what you mean, minnie!! i’m perfectly fine!! hey, wanna split the shipping fee? i added these new sports bras and shorts to my cart, you should totally add what you want to my cart so tHAT way i won’t have to pay so much and-...”

okay time-out that’s cLEARLY a time-out for you

you’re now way too much into your thoughts and that calls for a group hug

you just need a distraction, that’s all!!

jimin had to drag you over so that the both of you could go a few floors down to yoongi and tae’s apartment for move night

and there’s them giving you the reigns because well you just wanted to feel like you have control aNd that you’re not completely losing it aha

taehyung gives the best sitting cuddles as he’s at the far-end of the couch and he’s perfectly drooped for you to feel secure

jungkook nORMALLY would be annoyed when tae gets a little too cuddly but aight it’s cool no worries!! he’s just... standing in for a pillow

speaking of jungkook

well to be honest he’s doing good!! yes he does miss you but not to the degree that yOU do because well he’s just oblivious like that

there were some drills that the coaches were the ones that needed to be the players and well :D let’s just say he killed that part tOO good

for the first time after a long time, jungkook took down notes

n o t e s

wow he’s going so far he really is a coach

he also got to reconnect with some of his friend and not to brag but maybe he IS the blueprint for being the player to the coach lol

there was a no-phones rule and he could only call you on his lunch breaks and when he’s about to sleep or when the bathrooms are all empty

“can’t wait to see you tomorrow, koo :((“

“why did you miss mE?? :D”

he’s still as insufferable as ever even when he’s in a different state and you’d have to keep your chuckles down or else jimin’s gonna confiscate your phone

there’s some raining in jungkook’s background and you wonder why it was sO heavy

aha actually kook had to go outside because signal wasn’t exactly the best inside hence the louder patter

not to be that cheesy but talking to him just relieves you of your stress and it makes you pout because okay you’ll see him tOmorrow!!

“more than you know.”

ok

cool

there’s uh

there’s a tiny hitch

well jungkook was supposed to come tonight and well he ISN’T here

you’ve tried calling him and even got yoongi help you out by texting him and jungkook doesn’t even dare to try and ignore his hyung’s texts

now you’re in panic because wHY exactly didn’t he come home??

and there’s all these worst-case scenarios running through your head but that’s when he sends you a text late in the morning that woke you up

“sorry!! the organizers needed me to stay late. i’ll see you tomorrow :))”

that wasn’t exactly right

and uH jungkook wasn’t exactly telling the truth

it’s just a minor white lie he needed to say for you to not worry!!!

uhm so

well it was raining cats and dogs right??

IT WAS FLOODING

and jungkook didn’t want to risk cooky (that’s what he named his car do nOT question him) breaking down with all the water and the pressure so he’s uh

he’s not coming home tonight

lisa noticed his struggle right when they walked out of the complex and she offered generously

“jungkook!! do you wanna sleep over at my place tonight? i live pretty near anyway. i’ll drive you over to your car in the morning!!”

wow

she’s so kind and considerate!!! :D great idea lisa thank u very much

they even had ramen together and watched some netflix, kook just slept in the guest room, woke up, and the next day lisa drove him to his car and that’s it!!

he’s back to you easy-peasy and you gave him the tightest hug ever

that’s where the problem lies though

because jungkook didn’t tell you and you don’t know the truth either

which is why yoongi is in your apartment and has been looking at you for the past five minutes while he’s unmoved on your couch

jungkook was over to their apartment to help taehyung with his PC build and yoongi is here aPPARENTLY to just have some snacks with you

that doesn’t seem to be the case because he’s lost in his thought and is fidgeting and??? he doesn’t normally fidget when you’re making him a grilled cheese sandwich lol

“why did jungkook come home a day later than he was supposed to?”

what now

the workshop was long done by a week now and you’re lost at wHy yoongi is asking this now

“oh! he said the organizers needed him to stay later. you know how jungkook’s a bit famous with them, yoongs”

yoongi flatlines at that because uh

that’s w eird

oh god how is he gonna tell you this

yoongi just pulls out his phone with an all-telling screenshot and he’s preparing himself to deal with whatever reaction you give him

it’s a story, actually

harmless if you think about it

and the username and whom it belongs to is sO familiar

not to mention the more than familiar tattooed hand holding the chopsticks to sink into their bowl of ramen

oh

.... oh

“yoongi?”

that is too soft for your tone

something so chilling that yoongi is hesitant to even answer you

“can you bring in jungkook for me?”

oh my gOd you don’t know how to feel

you’re trying to contain yourself because maybe you’ve just misunderstood the situation

althought it’s too fucking hard for your sake, because as far as you remember, jungkook’s ex-girlfriend ISN’T the organizer for this workshop

was it even a workshop in the first place

jungkook wouldn’t cheat on you!!!

... would he??

you’re practically trembling when you ask yoongi to send you the picture and he attempts to hug you and cradle for a bit but you just stay sTILL

“i didn’t tell you because i didn’t want you to worry about me”

now jungkook is a bit confused when yoongi told him to go back to the apartment, no questions asked

and you’re looking kind of rattled which is why he’s starting to get worried

“jungkook, i’m gonna worry of you regardless!! i can’t stop floods and it’s unavoidable but wHY didn’t you tell me?”

“tell you what?”

god you’re gonna pull your hair out

he’s still playing coy of how he didn’t sleep over at lisa’s and it’s irking you right underneath your skin

“that you slept over at your ex-girlfriend’s house and didn’t even tell me!!”

okay now that’s when jungkook ticks

he doesn’t see the problem with it

“what’s wrong with that?? it was flooding and i knew no one else!! a state of emergency, don’t you think?”

“nO jungkook i get that! but what i can’t get is why you needed to lie to me!! you could’ve told the truth and i would’ve understood better!”

ugh this is just sO pointless

he doesn’t really wanna argue with you right now over something that shouldn’t be argued about in the first place

“you’re overreacting, stop it.”

“oh yeah?? it’s okay with you if i go to a workshop by myself, and sleep over at my ex-boyfriend’s place, and not tell you???”

you’re trying your best to not cry then and there because you so badly want to stand by your point against jungkook

“of course,” he’s even more stubborn than you are and he only kisses his teeth as you ask him

“because unlike you, i’m not controlling!”

oh

oh god

that’s when the line is drawn and you just can’t take it anymore

he’s so fired up that he huffs and walks out of the apartment while slamming the door harshly

...

....

things aren’t really going well

practice is still on even if jimin offered that you take a sick leave after hearing about what happened

you’re not gonna chicken out from practice just because jungkook’s gonna be there

plus it’s not like you haven’t ignored him before at practice

meanwhile jungkook is dYing on the inside because oh god he really screwed up big-time

his apartment is too spacious and too quiet and that just meant him regretting extra

this situation felt all too familiar

jungkook hates himself because he feels like he’s done nothing but to to just give you hurt :(((

it’s him going to the gym much earlier than usual and waiting by the door

it’s him trying to get your attention and you being set on tolerating none of it

he already did that last time

but tHIS time it’s with him as your boyfriend and maybe it hurts a little bit more

he hasn’t slept properly for god knows how long

(( actually it’s been just two days ))

you don’t try to contact him nor even think about him because as per his words, you’re controlling!!!

yoongi tries to assure you as much as you can that you aren’t

he’s the only one that could get to you because well he’s the one that took this up to you

and you avoid getting jimin into this because you feel like he’s tired with all this back and forth of trying to pick you up

oh god you aren’t a burden, right??

right???

pls say right

yoongi is admittedly not the best when it comes to comforting people but he is there and that’s what matters

even brought out the mascot suit to bring out a giggle or two

and he likes you better when you’re happy so he goes ham on trying to do those cartwheels he’s mastered

anything to put a smile on your face

he was about to do the backflip he did when you showcased your rage play and you had to physically stop him because nO i will not risk you getting a concussion just trying to make me happy

you can’t avoid each other for this long

sooner or later you need to talk about what happened and from then on could you do something about it

atleast jimin knows this much

and as hesitant as he is to let jungkook in again, he knows that this is for the better and that you’re both miserable (the other is much much worse and it isn’t you)

which is why jimin let the door open wordlessly before going on the lift to stay over at tae’s and yoongi’s for a few hours

or whenever you need him to come back

because jungkook’s right in front of you and you can’t even look at him in the eye

gOd there’s only so much you can do

“i’m sorry.”

that’s what makes it even worse though

because you’re the one who apologized first and fuck that just makes jungkook wince

he’s whimpering the moment he hears you and he’d be sobbing if only he didn’t desperately want to talk to you

“why are you apologizing when you’re not even the one at fault?”

it’s the added blow because fuck you are tOO good for him and he doesn’t deserve you :(((

“you’re not controlling. i was just being an insensitive boyfriend and a shitty one at that”

jungkook’s knees buckle and he’s kneeling right in front of you and it immediately gets you trying to lift him back up

the sight itself also makes you tear up a bit because you just wanna talk!! you don’t want him kneeling as if you’re a saint and all that :((

“i’ll — we’ll work through this, right?? i can — i can still m-make it up to you, right?”

jungkook’s looking up at you with the biggest and most pleading eyes you’ve ever seen and perhaps he was even scAred to ask the question,,, in fear that he’s only just convincing himself that he could

that makes his lip tremble again because the alternate outcome of your first fight absolutely ending your relationship is enOugh to shatter him to pieces

he’s about to bow his head again but this time you put your hands on his cheeks, making you look up at him as he tries to compose himself

“we’ll work it out.”

[valkyrieofsmut]

Mk so the previous ask of mc with a kid got me thinking, what about pregger mc who’s boy friend/husband/father of the child ditched her upon finding out she was pregnant and because of being pregnant she was one of the first to get canned at her job (since from what I recall it’s unaviable to have that kind of job while carrying) when they started making cuts and with her being unable to pay rent and the ‘no kids’ policy of her apartment complex she had to move into her trailer at the boys land >:3.

Um... I’d love to answer all of this/ more exactly to the question... but I have a few problems here for understanding... That whole first part, easy to understand, got it... The part about her being one of the first to go: she was, in the story; they don’t care if you’re preggs or not, they only care about how much money they’re spending to pay you. So it definitely wouldn’t matter if she was pregnant, they don’t care, and any risk is defined as risk you took; they’re not liable (not like you could really prove much, anyway). And lastly, the “no kids” policy? ...? Where tf do you live that has that?! It’s been illegal to refuse to rent to anyone because they have kids since 1968 due to the “fair housing policy”! I! I don’t know, but if you’re living somewhere they’re telling you that, look that shit up and let them know you know. Fuck them! They can’t do that shit to you! (there is an acceptance for places classified as “retirement/ old age/ whatever tf” but she couldn’t live there because she’s not old enough, anyway.)

Other than that stuff, I see it just as a “what if MC was pregnant when she got there and asshole left her” question, so I’ll answer that.

Classic- He doesn’t even really think about it for a long while, not even when she starts showing. It literally takes until she can’t walk anywhere without having to try to catch her breath/ not being able to stand for long/ about to go into labor (aka very pregnant) until it is something that he even has to keep reminding himself, just so he doesn’t get irritated that she can’t keep up. And then when she goes into labor, it suddenly comes to him- there’s going to be a tiny human here soon! Fuck! He needs to do something, doesn’t he?! Where do humans have babies?! Right. The hospital. Ok. Panic over. He’s going to get her there right now.

Creampuff- She’s mated? Oh... her mate left... unfortunate... Humans don’t live in such a small community that they can all just stay around each other and raise their children together like they sort of did in the Underground. He’s not sure exactly how humans do it normally, but monsters all pitch in, and he’s ready to help! He likes kids! They’re so amazed at the world around them and look up to him, and are so sweet! He’s always glad to help with the little one when they get here, and until then, he’s going to make sure that she’s as comfortable as possible, almost to the point of being underfoot, like the stereotypical nosy mother in law.

Red- Eh, kid ain’t here, yet- and that means he’s got free range, since there’s no chance that he’ll knock her up! He is his same self, flirty, trying to get in her pants, just normal Red! And then she starts showing. And he spends lots of time watching her baby belly. Any time anyone ever even curses around her, he yells at them, completely missing the hypocrisy. “what th’ fuck ya sayin’ shit like that ‘n front a the kid fer?! shut yer yap!” The more she shows, the more he’s by her side and doesn’t want to leave. More invitations for nights of just cuddles than orgasm relief start coming. He... likes touching her belly... and imagining that it’s his kid in there... don’t fuckin’ tell anyone! He really is a family kinda guy when it gets down to it, and he’s going to be one of the first to offer to help with the kid, and not in the helpful friend kind of way that Creampuff is. He’d... “uh... like ta have one wit ya, too... whadda ya say, sweetheart?”

Edge- It does not affect him, until it does. When she starts to get cranky and irritable from being pregnant, he’ll be wary of her, but he’ll also seek her out at times, because he knows that yelling and arguing helps when you feel so aggravated. Yep, he’s actually trying to help (Y/n) relieve some stress when he's arguing with her. His brother isn’t around to do it, and- ... he... can’t bring himself... to offer that kind of stress relief after being the cause of a lot of her irritation for so long... He hopes that she’ll be able and/ or willing to move past that after the baby is born. When she goes into labor, he seems completely cold and in control, belittling those around him for being stupid as usual- but inside he’s really freaking out. When the baby is born, he’ll be walked in on holding the baby, looking parental, maybe... almost... maternal...? Breath a word of it to anyone, and you’ll be regretting your own birth...

Blue- He’s smarter, and more mature, than people give him credit for! And that’s going to show itself in the way he fights with Red while trying to get her “nest” ready. He always “just happens” to find things that would look great in the lodge! And some of the ladies at work were talking, one’s niece was going to have a baby, too! And he heard that you need to have this specific type of thing when you’re having a baby! And he just happened to see it while he was at the store, and thought he’d save her the trouble of having to get it later when she’s all achy and sore! Spoiler, he’s actually joined some mom groups and has started asking the ladies at work about when they’d had their kids and is doing a lot of research. He wants to make sure she’s as prepared as she can possibly be! And... all the while, he’s going to be working himself into her life so that after the baby is born, it’ll just be natural for him to be around! And then he’ll just- stay there... in her life... and it’ll already be like they’re mated by the time he actually asks her.

Stretch- He’s not phased by it- until she gets to about the third trimester and is really showing. He hangs out around the lodge a lot, “just happen to be workin’ in the lab a lot lately.” He’s pretty chill, hanging in the background, but he’s, y’know... keepin’ a socket out for her... incase she needs anything, or anything happens... humans are fragile, after all, and that’s a complicated stage to be at... He’s not going to be in the foreground helping, like some of the Papyri, and he’s not going to be doing things behind the scenes, like some of the Sanses, he’s actually the one worried that he’ll break the kid, despite knowing, scientifically, that he won’t. He’s doing what he can to make sure the baby’s doing well and is taken care of, though- even if it is mostly by “casually” mentioning to Blue that something needs to be done or gotten- his bro is better at that stuff, anyway.

Black- He doesn't quite notice at first- not that he doesn't know, just that whole "out of sight, out of mind" thing. So he doesn't really take it into consideration, after all, she's a human; she'd know her limits when pregnant better than he would, wouldn't she? He starts doing research to see if there's something he should look out for and finds so many troubling things! Humans die from this?! They could be hospitalized?! They could lose the baby if something as small as that happens?! Yep... he's fallen into webMD... He's now going to make Mutt do everything for her while he keeps her by his side to stop her from getting hurt.

Mutt- It doesn't really matter to him. The kid isn't there, yet, so it sounds like the perfect time to be trying to get her to keep her pants (and the rest of her clothes) off and stay in bed with him all day, every day. If he does manage to get her in bed (or she gets the pregnancy hornys and takes him up on his open offer), he's not pulling out. All his magic is going inside of her. He thinks it's so fucking sexy, until he realizes that he's poured all his magic into her and... possibly her kid... um... oh... And now the kid is also his. Whether he was there to start the kid or not (obviously not, since she was already pregnant when they met), his magic is all over the kid, and he wouldn't be surprised if the kid turns out to be a mage.

Axe- When he first sees her, he doesn't know, or care. It really doesn't affect him other than being a bonus tastey treat inside... When he gets to know her, and she starts to show, it changes. There are two responses to pregnancy in the Underground; the fear of having another mouth to feed, of losing them before you even name them, due to the famine- but, before everything went to hell, pregnancy meant hope. It meant future... And with plenty of food around- it reminds Axe of that. He will begin stockpiling food, it will be everywhere. He will come make (Y/n) eat, even if he has to come ask her to make a meal for him, and then slowly trick her into eating most of it. She’s going to gain a lot of weight if she’s not careful.

Crooks/ Bun- He jumps on that the moment he finds out, even if she's not showing. He uses it as a reason not to hurt or eat her when reasoning with Axe, he holds her forth as a symbol of hope and future. He still becomes her best Bun! But he's also like the one who goes to all the classes and everything with her, Lamaze classes, shopping for everything she could need... He is there for her. And also... maybe... mother henning her a bit- but only in the good ways!

Dusty- It really doesn't cross his mind at all, until there is visible evidence; she starts showing. And then he's pretty weirded out that there's a baby- an itty bitty human, growing inside her. He keeps a wary eye on her, and especially after she delivers. He’s very nervous about what havoc this little one could wreak! ... but then... he realizes that... with this one starting out brand new, without any pre taught awfulness... he could teach it- he could train it how to be good... and then he has a little bit of hope...

Ask Masterlist?

[tkachow]

Les Habitants in 4, babe.

Whoa, whoa ok-ok whoa, whoa holiday wait hold on hold on holiday!

You can't give it to 'em dry like that

You gotta get that shit wet first ***** like c'mon now

You gotta prep them for shit like that

They can't just get that shit right off da top

Like you gotta bring that shit back, bring that shit the fuck back

Holiday season

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo

Ayo, I was on the plane with Wayne

You can call me Whitney I go to Hillman

Listen, I'm da baddest in da school, da baddest in da game

Excuse me honey, but nobody's in my lane

When you was in New York you was fuckin' da yankee

I was fuckin' with bass, I was pitchin' da Frankie

These bitches so cranky give dem a hanky

But mami I'm cold give me me my blanky

Flyer than a kite, I get higher than Rapunzel

Keep the snow white I can buy it by the bundle

Step ya cookies up for they crumble

Don't be actin' like the cardinals and gone fumble

‘Cause I'm a stealer

Fresh up out the dealer

All da dope boys gon' feel her

Flow so sick I need a healer

Fuck is my M.A.C. Concealer

I be out in queens in da back of

Four whee-whee-whee-whee-whee-whee-wheelers

I'm a big bill

That's why I get more head than a pigtail

Pussy mansion I'm gettin' the munchies

I think ill have a rap bitch for my entre'

'Cause they be thinkin' n***** spit, spit shine my shoes

You know I keep a bad bitch let me sign your boobs

I'm the only thing hoppin' like a kangaroo

I mean the only thing poppin' like a can of brew

Listen u should buy a sixteen 'cause I write it good

That 808 woof woof 'cause I write it good

And bitches can't find they man 'cause I ride it good

I'm the wolf where is little ride-uh ridin' hood

Now if you see a itty bitty piggy in a market

Give that bitch a quarter and car tell her park it

I don't fuck wit pigs like Asalamalakim, I put 'em in a field

I let Oscar Myer bake 'em

And if you see a itty bitty piggy in a market

Give that bitch a quarter and car tell her park it

I don't fuck wit pigs like Asalamalakim

I put 'em in a field and I let Oscar Myer bake 'em (bake 'em)

It's like I just single-handedly annihilated

You know every rap bitch in da building like

Like I'm Nicki Minaj, Nicki Lewenski, Nicki Da Ninja

Nicki Da Boss, Nicki The Harajuku Barbie

Like, I mean I don't even know why you girls even bother at this point

Like keep it up, it's me, I win, you lose ha-ha, oh shit!

Ha-ha-ha-ha, oh shit ha-ha yo I'm bad bitch

I'ma-I'ma bad bitch, I'm bad bitch, I'm-I'm a bad bitch

I'ma bad bitch, I'ma-I'ma bad bitch, I'ma bad bitch

I'ma-I'ma bad bitch ha-ha-ha, ah I told you, I told you before

I told you, you gonna have to pick my fruit out now listen

In addition to pickin' my fruit out

I want y'all to start goin' to the boutiques

Know what I'm sayin'? Get some, get some, get some crazy shit for me

I want, I want you know leopard skin and you know

I want, I want all dat crazy lizard skin, shit you know

You know you can be my personal shopper ha-ha-ha, ayo!

Woo-uh-huh-uh-huh

[kissthiskunt]

Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yoo

Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo y o yo y o yo y o y o yo yo yo

Ayo I was on da plane with da Wayne (yo)

You can call me Whitley I go to Hillman

Listen, I'm da baddest in da school, da baddest in the game

Excuse me honey, but nobody's in my lane

When you was in New York you was fuckin' the yankee

I was fuckin with bass, I was pitchin da Frankie

These bitches so cranky give d'em a hanky

But mami I'm cold give me my blanky

Whoa, whoa ok-ok whoa, whoa holiday wait hold on hold on holiday!

You can't give it to em dry like that

You gotta ***get that shit wet first nigga like c'mon now*****

You gotta prep them for shit like that

They can't just get that shit right off da top

Like you gotta bring that shit back, bring that shit the fuck back

Holiday season

Yo yo yo yo yo yo you yo yo yo yo yo yo yo

Yo yo yo yo you yo yo yo yo yo yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoo

Ayo I was on the plane with Wayne

You can call me Whitney I go to Hillman

Listen, I'm da baddest in da school, da baddest in da game

Excuse me honey, but nobody's in my lane

When you was in New York you was fuckin a yankee

I was fuckin with bass, I was pitchin da Frankie

These bitches so cranky give dem a hanky

But mami I'm cooooold give me me my blanky

Flyer than a kite, I get higher than Rapunzel

Keep the snow white I can buy it by the bundle

Step ya cookies up for they crumble

Don't be actin' like the cardinals and gone fumbllllleeee

Cause Im a stealer

Fresh up out the dealer

All da dope boys gon feel her

Flow so sick I need a healer

Fuck is my M.A.C. Concealer

I be out in queens in da back of

Four whee-whee-whee-whee-whee-whee-wheelers

I'm a big bill

That's why I get more head than a pigtail

Pussy mansion I'm gettin' the munchies

I think ill have a rap bitch for my entre'

Cause they be thinkin' niggas spit, spit shine my shoes

You know I keep a bad bitch let me sign your boobs

I'm the only thing hoppin' like a kangaroo

I mean the only thing poppin' like a can of brew

Listen u should buy a sixteen cause I write it good

That 808 woof woof cause I write it good

And bitches can't find they man cause I ride it good

I'm the wolf where is little ride-uh ridin' hood

Now if you see a itty bitty piggy in a market

Give that bitch a quarter and car tell her park it

I don't fuck wit pigs like Asalamalakim, I put em in a field

I let Oscar Myer bake em

And if you see a itty bitty piggy in a market

Give that bitch a quarter and car tell her park it

I don't fuck wit pigs like Asalamalakim

I put em in a field and I let Oscar Myer bake 'em (bake 'em)

It's like I just single-handedly annihilated

You know every rap bitch in da building like

Like I'm Nicki Minaj, Nicki Lewenski, Nicki Da Ninja

Nicki Da Boss, Nicki The Harajuku Barbie

Like, I mean I don't even know why you girls even bother at this point

Like keep it up, it's me, I win, you lose ha-ha, oh shitttttttttttttttt

Ha-ha-ha-ha, oh shit ha-ha yo I'm bad bitch

I'ma-I'ma bad bitch, I'm bad bitch, I'm-I'm a better ad bitch

I'ma bad bitch, I'ma-I'ma bad bitch, I'ma bad bitch

I'ma-I'ma bad bitch ha-ha-ha, ah I told you, I told you before

I told you, you gonna have to pick my fruit out now listen

In addition to pickin' my fruit out

I want y'all to start goin' to the boutiques

Know what I'm sayin'? Get some, get some, get some crazy shit for me

I want, I want you know leopard skin and you know

I want, I want all dat crazy lizard skin, shit you know

You know you can be my personal shopper hahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaa ayo!

Woo-uh-huh-uh-huhhuhuhuhuhu

[alolanrain]

Ash is a sucker for back rubs. He’s always have been since he was an itty bitty baby, and that’s how his mom had calmed him down from a tantrum. It’s just... The Key yo get him to stop for a moment and breath.

Everyone picks up on it sooner or later.

Lance does it to Ash during meetings. A deft hand gently coming down between his shoulders to rub that spot when he knows Ash’s brain is getting flighty and he’s spacing out. It grounds Ash back into reality for at least a couple of minutes, thankfully he only really gets spaced out during the end when Lance can finally excuse everyone and pat Ash’s back on the way out with a quite “good job,” because Ash needs more praises in Lances opinion. With everything Ash does for them it’s the only right thing to do.

Brock does it when Ash is hyping his panic and anxiety to much. Ash will cling onto Brocks chest and press his head into the taller collarbone as he try’s and take deep breathes, to match with Brocks over exaggerations. Brocks hand is heavy and warm, petting downward on his spine and calming Ash just like he would do to a scared Pokémon.

Gary would reach out and run two to three knuckles down Ash’s spine. From the back of his head to all the way to where his pants normally start. “I’m here,” Is the unspoken words that neither Gary or Ash need to verbally hear, “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere anymore.”

Bonnie does it to think. When she doesn’t want to walk and Ash offers to carry her. She’ll take this time to reflect and her hand would move from the base of Ash’s neck, to his shoulder blades, then swoops up to the edge of his shoulders. It’s rhythmic and helps ground her excitement and makes her easier to deal with at the end of the day when she’s not to cranky from over exerting herself. 

Dawn, May, Misty, and a few others do it to check his pulse. To make sure that Ash is really here, alive, and on Earth. Safe and sound, for now. That Ash isn’t off facing against an evil organization, or taking Arceus head on for the second time. It’s just an added bonus that it makes Ash stop in his tracks. Stops and breathes and melt into the touch like their fingers are lifting the heavy weights of expectations and duties for just a few minutes.

Jessie and James do it when Ash is in a slump. When nothing but tears and sobs tack through Ash’s body that only Piakchu can keep at bay, but not on these days. Days where every little thing goes wrong and Ash flees for a little, to sob and cry how he’s trying and that no one is noticing. “We know.” Their combined touch says as both their hands alternate from rubbing up and down, “we know. We witnessed every great thing you’ve done. We know and it’s okay to cry.” Pikachu and Meowth would be curled together somewhere, Meowth doing the exact same thing to the yellow Pokémon. Alternating between betting Pikachus ears and back.

Kukui does it as a thank you. A heavy handed pat between Ash’s shoulder blades before drifting lower as he mumbles about school work or Pokémon moves. He’ll then pull Ash into his lap and tuck the drowsy Trainers head under his and his hand will return. Absently rubbing and petting the strong back as Ash dozes off from the nice warm feeling settling in his chest.

——————

;-; I just really like the thought of back rubs and I’m emotionally ejecting onto Ash at this point in time. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[sinsofsinister]

the always lovely @exowarlock asked me if any of my ocs had pets recently & my immediate first thought was of Baha, who’s family has thirteen black cats. ten of them live on the family estate and three live with Baha as her familiars. in order we have inkpot, salem, and felix! they’re wonderful.

inkpot is the oldest cat in the house and was the first familiar Baha ever had. they basically grew up together. if inkpot doesn’t like you, you’re probably not getting close to Baha at all. he’s a territorial little smartass. Caleb was the first person he didn’t instantly despise / chase off the property in my RoM save lmao. he got his name bc back when he was an itty bitty kitten he had a habit of curling up on open books and maps, looking like a big ol blob of ink.

salem is the second cat seen and he’s the total opposite of inkpot. if inkpot were someone hiding in their room and avoiding everyone at a party, then salem is the cheerful one going around welcoming everyone and giving them drinks and hugs. a big affectionate baby, salem only really ended up at Baha’s house bc he missed her at the estate and no one liked seeing him so sad.

felix, the final cat, actually belongs to one of Baha’s younger brothers. he says the cat followed her out of its own volition, but Baha wouldn’t be surprised if he’d sent it with her to keep an eye on her. felix is constantly cranky with an incredibly short fuse, much like her owner. while inkpot has calmed down with his whole attacking people who come near the house thing, felix is just ready to fight 24/7 be it the mailman or even Caleb coming back late from work.

[whimsicalworldofme]

Skin to Skin

Not what you think. But it’ll probably make your heart melt. 

After months of anticipation, Ava finally goes into labor and Poe is a wreck about it. 

Word Count: 1633

Content Warnings: None

Poe paced anxiously out in the hall just beyond the door to the medbay. The medical droid had insisted rather forcefully that he leave because he kept getting in the way with his wandering around. But he couldn’t help his nerves. Ava had been in labor for six hours. He hadn’t even known that was possible. When the nurse told him that it could go for a full two days, he felt queasy. No one was allowed in the room except for General Organa. Not that Poe necessarily wanted to see the baby be born. He didn’t know if he had the stomach for that, but he felt he should be there for Ava, holding her hand or something. He felt so useless. So, he paced, heaving heavy sighs every few minutes. Every now and then he raked his hair back, his fingernails roughly scratching his scalp.

               “Dameron, you still waiting on that baby to be born?” Temmin came by after hour seven. He had a paper bag in hand that looked like it had come from the mess hall, making Poe’s stomach rumble. “I know you say it’s yours but…come on. We were together on a mission nine months ago. What’re you doing waiting around for?”

               “Someone has to be here for Ava,” he insisted, biting his bottom lip. Sure, Leia was there but other than the general, she was all alone. Her aunt had sent her off at the age of eleven to study with Luke Skywalker then promptly died from some alien virus. That was the only family she’d had left.

               “Do you think it’s a smart idea chasing after…” Temmin paused and leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Chasing after Ben Solo’s girl? What if he finds out about the kid and comes for them?”

               It would be a lie to say that Poe hadn’t considered that. They had moved bases since Ben’s turn to the dark side so he couldn’t give their whereabouts to the First Order and he certainly wouldn’t have an easy time finding Ava if he thought to look for her. But that hadn’t happened during all of her pregnancy so he doubted it would happen at all.

               “She’s not Ben Solo’s girl,” he countered. “She’s Ava. And I’m not chasing her, we’ve been friends for ages and this is what friends do, they stick around for each other.”

               “You keep trying to convince yourself you're just her friend, Dameron. Either way, you’re a better man than most,” his friend clapped him on the shoulder before shoving the bag into his chest. “I got you a sandwich. You’re welcome.”

               “Thanks,” Poe grumbled, keeping his gaze on the ground. Temmin chuckled and strode off, leaving him alone again. He opened the crinkly paper bag and made quick work devouring the sandwich, not even noticing what was in it or on it. His legs couldn’t take anymore pacing after hour eight, so he sat down with his back against the wall, chin down, arms folded over his chest.

               “Poe what are you doing out here?” General Organa’s voice, exasperated and a little judgy if he was being honest, woke him up. He looked around for a moment trying to get his bearings regarding time and location. “Have you been out here the whole time?”

               “Hmm?” He rubbed his eyes and stretched, getting to his feet. “Well, yes, ma’am,” he added, still uncertain how to address the general in a non-work capacity. “They wouldn’t let me in the room, and the droids got annoyed with my pacing in the waiting room, so I waited out here. What time is it?”

               “Oh-one-hundred hours,” Leia advised with a nod. “But I’m glad you’re here. I can’t stay, duty calls. Ava shouldn’t be alone right now.”

               “Is she ok?” Poe felt his pulse race, his chest tighten. “Did something go wrong? How is the baby?”

               “The baby is fine. He’s seven pounds, three ounces, head full of black hair, lungs like a banshee,” Leia waved a hand to dismiss those fears. “And Ava is healthy. But she’s despondent. She won’t hold him, she won’t nurse him. She really needs a friend right now,” Leia gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I told the quacks to let you stay as long as Ava wants you there.”

               “Thank you, ma’am,” Poe nodded, a little shocked at that development. Leia winked and headed off without a further word. He charged into the medbay and a nurse took him immediately, if begrudgingly, to Ava’s room.

               She was lying in her bed, an arm over her eyes, her face pale. He knew that childbirth was an ordeal. He’d been reading up on it since he’d found out she was pregnant, but nothing could’ve prepared him for how worn down she looked. He felt guilty for some reason that she’d had to endure this at only seventeen, alone, with only the general and the medical staff there to encourage her. It couldn’t have been easy. Next to the bed was a clear bassinet and inside, tightly swaddled in a white blanket, was the tiniest human being Poe had ever laid eyes on. Leia hadn’t been lying about the hair. It was thick and black and stuck out all over the place from the top of the baby’s head. He had Ben’s ears, Poe noted, a little pang of loss hitting him. But otherwise the baby looked like all the other babies he’d seen before, most of which looked like tiny, cranky old men.

               “You can pick him up if you want,” Ava’s voice made him jump in alarm. He’d thought she was asleep. “The nurse says he needs skin to skin contact.”

               “Skin to skin contact?” Poe raised a brow. “Why?”                “Something about regulating body temperature, I don’t know,” Ava yawned. She was definitely on her way to falling asleep. But her complete apathy worried him. That wasn’t the Ava he knew. “If he cries there’s bottles and diapers,” she didn’t elaborate where, but Poe found them easily enough on a table at the foot of her bed.

               “Don’t worry about a thing,” Poe insisted, shuffling over to the bedside and giving Ava a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Get some sleep. I’ll take care of…” he realized he didn’t know the little guy’s name. She hadn’t picked one before he was born.

               “Luke,” she said. “Luke Maebry-Solo.”

               “That’s a good name,” Poe grinned. Ava said nothing. He stepped to the side of the bassinet and stroked a finger along the baby’s cheek. “Hi Luke.” The baby didn’t open his eyes, didn’t respond other than to reach out and grab his finger. He stood there for a moment, taking in how small that itty bitty hand latched onto his finger truly was. “All right, skin to skin,” he remembered what he was meant to be doing.

               Without a second thought he pulled his shirt off and tossed it on the ground, not really caring where it landed. He very carefully unwrapped the baby from the swaddling blanket and picked him up. It took a moment for him to figure out maneuvering the baby properly to support his head. He hadn’t told anyone, but he’d been reading up on newborn care. The real thing was a little scarier than theory though. The baby’s skin was so soft, his little body so fragile. He’d never held a human that tiny. Going to a reclining chair in the corner, he sat down and leaned back with the baby lying on his chest. He put the blanket over them, not sure how warm a newborn needed to stay.

               “Hey buddy,” he whispered as he stroked the little wisps of black hair before kissing the top of Luke’s head. “I’m Poe. It’s good to meet you finally.”

               Luke opened his big, blue eyes and stared at him. Poe had read that all babies’ eyes are blue at first, but it was still weird to him since neither Ava nor Ben had blue eyes. Little pink lips moved as Luke squeaked and nuzzled against him trying to get comfortable again. Poe rubbed his back and studied every little detail of Luke’s face, the chubby cheeks, the nose which was obviously Ben’s, Ben’s big ears too. He understood a little better why Ava might be having difficulty connecting with him. She’d loved Ben wholeheartedly and he’d destroyed her. Raising his son was fine in concept and she’d been somewhat ok while pregnant. But seeing Ben so clearly in Luke was painful even for Poe who always tried to remember his friend as he had been. He couldn’t keep on that line of thinking. It hurt too much.

               “I guess you probably already know my voice,” Poe continued whispering to him. “I talked to you a lot when you were in your Mama’s belly, huh?”

               He chuckled. Ava had been glad to let him talk to Luke while she was still pregnant with him. For the entire third trimester she said that Poe’s storytelling was the only thing that calmed the baby enough for her to have a reprieve from the kicking. He was still in awe that Luke was here, even more so that he was holding him, seeing him.

               “You’re going to have to go easy on your Mama, ok? She loves you more than anything in this entire galaxy, but she’s been through a lot in bringing you here. You’re both going to go through a lot more as you get older and it’s not always going to be easy, but I’m going to be here for you both.” He glanced over at Ava, still sleeping soundly and smiled. “No matter what, I’m never leaving you or your Mama ever. I love you, buddy,” he kissed the top of Luke’s head.

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