#just kidding no one cares but I have to vent somewhere

[famewolf]

i will genuinely never understand my dad!!! and i feel guilty for being confused and angered by him!!!! i don't know what he wants and i doubt i ever will

i guess he's known that he's had cancer for over a month now but never told me. and i dont know if it's because he wanted me to reach out/pay attention to him, as he's done in the past or if he just didn't think to, or if it's some other third mysterious reason that i can't think up

we aren't close since he was rarely in my life but i feel like that's something you tell your kid.

and the only reason i found out is because i went to go check and see why he hadn't replied to my message about asking if he wanted to hang out for the thousandth time without getting a response

[mental-illness-bingo]

If you think it's a personality trait or a good or even a neutral thing to hate children just fucking block me. You're pathetic and you don't even deserve for me to bother to argue with you. Enjoy your weird obsession with vilifying a group of people with next to no neurodevelopment or life experience I guess. The rest of us will be here having a real personality, a life, and being tolerable to be around.

i feel like a lot of the 'i hate kids' crowd would be more tolerant if they understood that due to a kid's limited experience of the world that 4 hour flight might just be the longest they've ever had to sit still for or that trapped finger might literally be the most pain they've ever felt in their short life or they might not have ever seen a person with pink hair ever so of course they want to touch it or nobody's told them yet that they can't run around the museum and they only just learned cheetahs are the fastest animals so of course they want to put that to the test. how were they supposed to know etc etc.

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01

Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him

Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList

Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife

To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award

They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.

Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general. 

I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father

I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids

Thing is, that’s both your faults.

Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own? 

(Your husband is hot okay?)

In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.

I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.

His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.

He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.

He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible

Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.

While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves. 

For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.

But they had to build it themselves.

It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.

Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.

It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)

Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help

(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)

Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.

They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once

Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night

He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills

You had to help out here, no lie.

He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again

He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes

especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies

He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp. 

Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.

You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.

He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles

Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)

"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"

"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"

"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"

If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are

Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.

At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.

His arm is on your waist most of the time.

They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.

He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.

You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!

So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.

It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.

Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.

Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.

He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle

Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.

When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.

Oh no, hugs galore.

Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though

When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp

Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.

I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection

Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)

It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter

His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.

"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"

"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"

Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA

The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result

Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something

Ace is his kids’ hero.

His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.

His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating

You're relieved

Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving

Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better

When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”

Ace loves you so much he swears

[toxycodone]

ship. captain grant mccurley (curly) x reader

content. general hcs + sfw + romantic

an. hehe u guys know i love doing these big ass hc posts to like. characterize and get a feel for how I write for characters sooo yaaaay enjoy this

general curly hcs (feat. the Tulpar crew near the end)

as much as I love scottish/irish/british curly,,,,he is american born. HEAR ME OUT. his parents/grandparents are immigrants buuuut this man is all american (where it counts ig).

he's from Colorado! his family mostly lives around there/mid america. He grew up playing a lot of winter sports (hence his love for it). As a kid he played ice hockey for sure and lost a tooth. there's a polaroid at his mom's place with him smiling happily after a game with a bloodied tooth in between his fingers

but as a pre-teen/teen he moved to the south. somewhere around the mid-south/mississippi basin. as sad as he was to leave Colorado behind, he latched onto southern culture sooo fast. I am a huge southern transplant Curly believer.

And this is when he meets jimmy. They went to 8th grade and high school together. After witnessing Jimmy's terrible ass home life, curly kinda latches onto him. It's a weird mix of being way too empathetic, his savior complex, and just desire to be useful/helpful/etc.

Jimmy basically lived with Curly his junior and sophmore years of high school. His household was abusive and terrible so Curly's own parents let him "sleep over". He has his own toothbrush, loofa, shower products, etc at Curly's. He didn't even ask for them either, Curly and his dad got them out shopping once.

^ Jimmy is thankful but oh my GOD does he resent curly for having such an unproblematic home life. curly has vented about his parents being too overprotective or something before and jimmy lashes out at him for it (oof)

Curly sticks up for Jimmy way. too. much. As much as he cares, it's actually kinda toxic. Curly never lets Jimmy face the consequences of his own actions, downplays all his shit, doesn't take the warning signs Jimmy clearly exhibits...he kinda acts as a barrier to Jimmy growing up and learning to be himself alone.

And on the other hand, Jimmy is way to enabling of this. It's easy. Simple. He latches onto Curly and like. feels threatened by any new friends, romantic interests, etc.

when Curly starts working for the Pony Express (an actual REAL career that takes Curly away from Jimmy)...Jim spirals. yeah.

He goes to jail. and when Curly gets back from his haul, the first thing he does is bail him out, co sign shit for him, etc. So again, Jimmy doesn't face the consequences of his actions. (and we see how that plays out in game...)

BUT YEAH. Jimmy is a mississippi native and he and curly do so much country ass shit together. hand fishing for catfish, mudding, hunting, all that jazz. they are avid rodeo fans too. Curly goes every year (he's tried to compete. broke his wrist doing those calf cathcing/tie down things i think)

Curly and the Tulpar crew have been together for a handful of hauls. (I mean in-game dialogue suggests this too). Knowing people that long means he's a well respected captain and they're kinda a little family!

Swansea is tough to work with, but actually respect's curly. This is bc Curly skirts by the typical PE rules, but not in a bad way. He's really adamant about safety and following protocol, which Swansea respects (although it's annoying). But the 5 hours of rest rule? Curly thinks that's ridiculous. As long as the work is being done, Curly doesn't count break time. So there's plenty of blankets or pillows lying around the common room in case anyone needs a nap on one of the couches. Curly also advises everyone have a blanket and pillow in their work areas during shifts for "comfort" (it's just code for everyone to catch some sleep outside of the time they spend in their quarters).

Curly also makes sure they have game nights + shared meals +etc. He counts these as "meetings" or "team building exercises" when sending reports to corporate.

Curly and Anya haven't been together too long compared to the others. The Tulpar haul is her second haul with Curly, but they've known each other for at least 3+ years and are pretty comfortable with each other. Curly made sure she felt as comfortable as possible being the only girl on their team. (well. yknow. until that ultimately gets tested.) But I think Anya and Curly aren't extremely close which explains why she doesn't immediately come to him w issues + why Curly doesn't deal w Jimmy in a harsher way (it's a combination of Curly being sleep deprived, favoring Jimmy, and ultimately his own paranioa and shortcomings. Curly has a real problem confronting Jimmy bc of his past w lashing out).

Curly is an insomniac. Not on Earth, but on hauls most definitely. He has a lot of anxiety about hauls (which he chalks up to being "normal") and the monotony of them drives him crazy. He's constantly a little sleep deprived.

He picked up weight lifting as a hobby on hauls bc cardio is like. impossible on that ship and it makes him feel good. <3 When he doesn't have access to the gym he does pull ups on loose bars on the Tulpar and stuff lol. He has a few weights and crap though. And that Pony Express brand protein powder is hella useful for cutting.

sfw + romantic

Oh he most definitely doesn't have a partner on earth. It's why he's facing his mid life crisis shit because he's like my god. all this work and status and nothing to show for it wtf. I think he really wants to have a relationship, but most people don't want to put up with the fact he's gone for about a year or so. off planet. with little communication.

On the Tulpar he keeps it in his pants. Curly is a professional and does his best to continue acting that way. But no one really comes onto him anyways? (if they did. my God I think he would be very weak to it.)

He has rizz. Like. Mr. Grant McCurley can fucking flirt like a champ. If he wants you he will make it clear. Ask you out for drinks. Then pay at the end. He makes it clear he's not expecting anything either?? Total southern gentleman shi

Insists on only giving a cheek kiss after the first date too like sheeesh (he's playing the waiting game with you. trying to keep you wanting HIM yeah he's good).

I like to think he's more traditional when it comes to romance like...dates weekly or bi weekly. Gives you flowers and chocolates and stuff. He actively pursues you and its soooooo <3333

No sex until at least after the third or fourth date too like. AGAIN. WAITING GAME. wants you to initiate that stuff (but he'll give hints like putting his hand on your knee and letting it trail up your thigh. YEAH)

He's the type who is always planning his life with you in it. Like, he's gotta have your fave snacks/drinks in his pantry/fridge. You have your own stuff at his apartment before you move in (that he bought, btw. he takes note when he visits ur place). His apartment feels like your home away from home. <3

He definitely rubs his stubble on you to annoy you when he gives you hugs. ewwww i hate men (im lying)

ok idk what else to write but. he used to use old spice but now uses a calvin klein cologne that man smells GOOD ASF

ok thats all i got enjoy

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 6.2k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! baby fever!gojo, breeding kink, unprotected sex, established relationship, pet names (mama, baby), oral (f!receiving), talks of having kids and starting a family, ooc!gojo

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ The sequel is here! I felt like I couldn’t continue the storyline without at least mentioning the complications of someone like Gojo having a kid. It’s inevitable that they’re going to have a high level of cursed energy, so I wanted to explore the idea of sorcerers trying to live outside of jujutsu society constraints while also still having to adhere to them.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

The heat is on because it’s mid-winter and it’s finally gotten cold enough to snow, but somewhere in Gojo’s sprawling apartment a window is open. Not wide enough to cause a terrible draft–not that Gojo cares because he can afford to open all the windows while the heat is blasting at full tilt–but just enough to let in the smell of the crisp air outside. Gojo admittedly isn’t overly in tune with his sense of smell, all things considered. His strength is in his eyes so he’s never bothered to mull over the things that aren’t associated with his sight. He can’t exactly see the scent of frost and he can only smell it as well as any other person, but the window is open because he knows you like the smell of light snowfall. 

His staring problem comes with the territory, but, in the comfort of his own home, Gojo can’t really be faulted for looking too hard at any one thing. Especially not when his eyes are locked on his pretty girlfriend laid up on his couch. You’re curled up like a kitten in a nest, tucked into another one of his shirts and bundled beneath the giant fleece he bought because you’re always catching a random chill. It probably has something to do with low iron levels and leaving the window open in the winter. He briefly considers buying supplements but the thought is lost as soon as it forms when his eyes catch on the distracting length of your leg peeking out of the fuzzy blanket. It’s a wide expanse of bare skin that belies a lack of pants or at least anything beyond another pair of those damningly short shorts you love to wear around the house. There’s the fleeting thought that your aversion to longer pants might also be a contributing factor to your constant chill but he isn’t about to mention it. You’ve never had any qualms about going against things he says, but it’ll be just his luck that you actually decide to start wearing pants around the house and then where would he be? 

Infinity makes his footsteps imperceptible, especially with the adage of the downy carpet. There isn’t even a twitch of your lashes as he crouches in front of you, staring at your face half buried in the blanket before he reaches out to touch your leg. There’s no need for him to have his Infinity up in the house, but it’s habitual at this point, as easy as breathing. It’s the dropping it that always gives him pause. After going so many hours, day after day, never truly touching anything, it always feels like he’s relaxing a tense muscle when his barrier comes down. Not necessarily painful but palpable. The same way you can always smell when a storm is coming, Gojo can feel when his Infinity dissipates even though it’s intangible by nature. And once it’s gone he can feel everything. Hot or cold, the temperature never really matters because he’s always in his little bubble of body heat, but now he can feel the artificial rush of the vents pumping out waves of warm air and the slightest chill from the open window. 

Goosebumps rise over your skin as he traces his finger up the length of your leg. The jut of your ankle, the slope of your calf and the curve of your knee to settle over the softness of your thigh. You’re warm in a way that’s different from the blasting heat. Soft and comforting and Gojo tries not to dwell on what that might mean for his constant lack of physical contact. He drops his Infinity on occasion. Especially to interact with you or his students that are doing nothing but feeding into his desire for fatherhood, but it’s still few and far between. More often than not, Gojo is locked inside the untouchable barrier of his cursed technique. It’s not exactly loneliness that he’s feeling but some type of longing that makes him settle next to the couch so he can lay his cheek against your leg and just feel. His Six Eyes still tries to tell him things, outlining the shape of your body buried elusively beneath the blankets in a silhouette of cursed energy, but he closes his mind to it as best he can.  

It’s always been something unspoken between you; your level of cursed energy. You ended up a bit like Nanami, a bit like Suguru, turning your back on jujutsu for your own reasons. He’s never forced you to come back, never really even asked why you left because he doesn’t exactly care. All Gojo needs to know is that you’re happier with your life as it is, living as a non-sorcerer. He can’t really wrap his head around your love of working retail when it’s such a mixed bag of benign and volatile customers, annoying bosses, and ridiculous hours from what you tell him. But it’s leagues safer than fieldwork and Gojo isn’t about to be the one to coax you back into active duty. He barely tolerates when the higher ups call you in to do menial managerial tasks when the school is shorthanded. 

Their excuse for still keeping you on the payroll even after all these years always boils down to something about death being the only way a sorcerer ever really leaves the business. As if jujutsu society is some kind of yakuza holding members hostage. The people in charge act like sorcery is an inescapable cult and Gojo will be glad when he’s done tearing them down from the inside out. And as if you can sense him working himself up even in your sleep, Gojo watches your lashes pinch and flutter before a hand comes slinking out of your fuzzy cocoon to settle on his head. Your eyes are still closed but the momentary tension leaves your brow as soon as your fingers skim over his hair. No Infinity, only comfort. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” It’s always so instinctual the way you reach out to him. You always have an innate ability to tell when he’s falling and needs catching. Even just the sound of your voice, low and thickened with sleep, is enough to banish any worries from his mind. At least for the moment. 

“Nothing,” he says just to hear you mumble back “it’s something,” like you always do when he lies about what’s on his mind. It isn’t a matter of trust because Gojo trusts you with his life. He just doesn’t want to plague you with all the things he’s mulling over. It’s really only important to him. You’ve already declared your disinterest in sorcery, he’s not about to force you to listen to him formulating a plan to reform jujutsu society. And besides, he can’t have you worrying because it isn’t good to worry when you’re pregnant. Something about stress not being good for the baby. Sure, you aren’t pregnant yet, but he can see it coming in the near future. 

It’s not like he’s worn you down, you’ve always been way too steadfast to be bending to anyone’s whims. It’s more so just that it’s time. That ever constant “soon” looming closer and closer on the horizon. 

“Quit your job,” Gojo says, sounding every bit like a petulant child. Finally, your eyes open. Just barely, only enough to give him a hazily unimpressed look. 

“I know that’s not what you were thinking about.” He knows you know, but he also knows you won’t press him on it. Even when you were an active sorcerer, there were just some things you didn’t want to know about for plausible deniability’s sake. No need to get your hands dirty, especially now that you’re not even active anymore. Gojo’s strong enough to take on the consequences of his actions, strong enough to keep you safe from the fallout of his decisions. And anyway, he’s far more concerned with his personal life at the moment. What he does at work becomes virtually irrelevant the second he’s alone with you. 

“It’s what I’m thinking about now!” He’s whining because it’s really all he has on his mind now. The idea of coming home from a long day of work and being greeted by the pattering of little feet as your babies rush to meet him at the door. He imagines them all chubby cheeked and starry eyed, pushing to be the first one he hugs when he gets home. He’s annoyingly fixated on the thought and thumps his forehead against your thigh, knocking against you over and over until you’re fisting your fingers in his hair to keep him still. 

“You’re annoying.” You mean it but he can hear the endearment in your voice. And just to really get on your nerves, Gojo starts pouting. 

“I’m lonely.” It’s true in a way he doesn’t want to admit. Never mind the fact that he has his cheek pressed against your leg, arms wrapped tight around your thigh. There’s always been that nagging sense of loneliness. The looming feeling that something is missing. Children or something else, Gojo doesn’t know. But he does know that he wants babies. Your babies. Preferably sometime in the very near future if you’ll let him. 

“Lonely? Then what am I?” He feels you flex your leg as if to remind him that there’s no space for loneliness between his skin and yours. But there’s a hint of something in your voice, that heaviness of unspoken acknowledgment. You’ve known him for so long, been together for so many years. Some things don’t need to be said for you to know. It’s innate, intrinsic. And he loves you for it. You’re everything to him, but what he decides to say is,

“The mother of my children.” There’s desperation in his voice but Gojo doesn’t care to be embarrassed. He’s been stuck on this for most of your relationship and he isn’t about to get flustered asking for what he wants for the umpteenth time. You haven’t shamed him the first thousand times he’s asked so he isn’t expecting to get teased on attempted one thousand and one. 

“I’m not pregnant yet.” Gojo perks up. That’s new. The two of you have had this conversation in some variation at least once a week for months now and Gojo has grown used to all the answers you usually give him. It’s always something like “not yet,” or “let’s wait a little while longer.” And he does wait, but he’s also woefully impatient. Gojo knows you’re not pregnant and that’s the torture of it all. You’ve already said you’ll have his children. Kissed his forehead and reminded him that not now doesn’t mean not even whenever he gets particularly sulky after being told to be patient. It’s always just a matter of when but he’s eager for when to be now. And something about your answer makes him look at you with wide eyes. 

I’m not pregnant yet. It’s teasingly open-ended, like you’re taunting him with the knowledge that you’re not pregnant but you could be. But Gojo knows you wouldn’t tease him like that. Not about this. He’s always been a tad bit overzealous in his pursuit of babies but that’s because he wants it so bad, and he knows you wouldn’t be cruel enough to taunt him with it. He trails a hand up your thigh, dipping beneath the blanket as he maps out the curve of your hip. A shiver runs through your body as his fingers dip under the hem of your shorts. 

“Not pregnant… yet?” It’s hopeful. A question lingering in his tone. Is it time? Will today be the day? You smile, going back to petting his head, and that’s all the answer he needs. “You looking to change that, mama?” 

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask again,” you tease. “Thought you kept track of my ovulation window.” You’ve been waiting? Gojo’s heart stutters in his chest. All he had to do was ask. It’s always been that way really. He’s been begging you for so long because he knew it was just a matter of asking when, but after so long of being told to wait a while it seems almost too good to be true hearing you say you’re ready now. 

“You better be serious.” He knows you are because you know how desperate he’s been for it, but he can’t help but want to hear you say it again. Hear you ask in so many words. He’s always begging and pleading and Gojo wants to hear you want it just as plainly as he does. 

“Don’t make me beg, Satoru.” It isn’t what he wants to hear but he scoops you and your blanket into his arms even still. He’s got all the time in the world to hear you ask for it and he’s not about to delay it any longer just because you want to play coy. He can see it in the way you’re biting at your lips trying to hide a smile, feel it in the way your arms wind around his neck. There’s a slight tremor to your hand as you run your fingertips up the column of his neck. He can almost hear the way your heartbeat has spiked, blood swelling with desire as he lays you down in his bed. It’ll be your bed soon because there’s no way he’s about to spend even a second more than necessary away from you. He’s been begging to get rid of your apartment for almost as long as he’s been wanting a baby, and Gojo is looking to have it all in one fell swoop. 

“Gonna have to move in with me, mama,” he reminds you. Marriage is a more amorphous thought. Really it’s just a piece of paper that will serve to complicate your lives. He’s the head of a clan and his wife will have certain expectations imposed upon her that he doesn’t want to wrestle with right now. Maybe later, when he’s made things better. But for now he’s happy just having you. You don’t have to be a Gojo just yet because you’re his regardless. You’re in his bed, wearing his clothes, wanting to have his baby. Gojo can’t put a bigger mark on you than that but he’ll sure as hell try as his mouth latches onto the sensitive skin of your neck. You make that same gasping sound you always do, a little shiver running through your body as your hands find his hair again. Your grip is tighter than before, pulling at the roots as he digs his teeth into your delicate skin. Usually he’d be more careful about where he’s putting his little love bites but he can’t bring himself to care right now, and you don’t seem to mind. 

“You gonna ask for it, mama? I’m not gonna give it to you if you don’t ask for it properly.” As much as he’s been begging for it, Gojo won’t settle for anything less than hearing you tell him exactly what you want from him. All he’s been hearing is you telling him to wait, so he’s not giving you anything without explicit permission. Of course you take your time with that, too, and Gojo is more than happy to indulge you. It’s like running a marathon and finally seeing the finish line so close within reach. He can count the steps, the breaths, the heartbeats it will take until he crosses the line and finally, finally gets what he wants. It’s what you want too, or else you wouldn’t have said anything. It’s easy to provoke him when it comes to this and he hasn’t heard exactly what he wants yet, but he’s still keen to get you out of your clothes. And for all your smirking silence, you let him. Lifting your hips and arching your back as he strips you out of your clothes. 

For a moment, all he can do is savor the sight. His girl laid out on his bed, so close to asking for his child. You squeak when his nose presses into the space between your breasts, skin cold without his Infinity to regulate his temperature but he’ll be warm soon enough. Already he’s soaking in the heat pouring off your skin. You’re that fuzzy sort of warm that comes with the first waves of wakefulness, eyes still half-lidded and skin nearly feverish as he rubs his cheek against your bare chest. You smell nice. A perfect balance between his scent and your own, mingled together in a heady fragrance that has his tongue drawing wet streaks across your skin. He shivers as you thumb at the nape of his neck, brushing over the cropped hair at the back of his head because you can’t get enough of the feeling. Gojo is almost certain he’ll be just as insistent with touching your stomach when you start to show. 

He can already imagine how you’ll look. Only a few months pregnant, belly just starting to show. In his shirts you’d look the same as you always do. They hang so big off your frame that no one would be able to tell what was growing beneath it. But he’d know. And when you got bigger the whole world would know. Belly round and breasts heavy, whole body changing to accommodate the little life you made together. Gojo already can’t stay off you and he imagines your first pregnancy will shatter what little is left of his restraint. 

“You’ll tell me what I wanna hear, right, mama?” He murmurs against your stomach. He kisses around your naval, moving lower to dig his fingers into the thickness of your hips. You return the favor, running a hand through his hair until your grip tightens, pulling his eyes towards you. It sends a stinging twinge of pleasure down his spine, scalp prickling beneath your rough treatment as he stares up at you. He realizes you’re holding so tight because you need something to ground you. He can feel the way you’re squirming beneath his weight, hips shifting awkwardly as he pins you down with his bright blue gaze. Gojo has always been so open about wanting to start a family yet you can hardly articulate the words to ask him. It’s what you both want, but after so long saying no he can imagine how hard it is to fix your lips to say yes. It’ll be hard to collar him again once you let him off the leash. 

“Satoru,” he nearly melts at the sound of his name on your tongue. The way you say it with such sweet reverence. He can hear the affection in every syllable. “I want it.” It isn’t some heartfelt confession but it’s just as sincere, and Gojo hasn’t exactly been asking for it in the most romantic terms. You aren’t begging yet but it’s a start. A slow one compared to how feverish he’s been in his desire to get you pregnant but it’s enough for the moment. He can hear threads popping with how quickly he works to get your clothes off. It’s his shirt anyway and he has the money to buy you as many new sets of underwear that you want for nearly ripping your panties in half as he yanks them down your thighs. The poor lace is mangled as you kick it off your ankle but he doesn’t hear you complaining. In fact, you’re giggling. Laughing and smiling so pretty as he kisses your knee. 

“What’s so funny, baby?” He asks. You poke him square in the forehead as he looks up at you. 

“You are.” You’re still laughing. “You’re like a damn puppy.” It’s not the first time you’ve called him that but it makes him smile every time. He presses his grinning lips against your skin and smiles wider when you call him a weirdo as he licks the inside of your thigh. 

“Don’t complain now. In a few minutes you’re gonna want my tongue all over you.” His tone is joking but he watches the word land. The way you go quiet, nipping at your lip to hide your smile behind a shy pout. He can feel your thigh flexing as he rests his head against your leg, squirming at just the thought of him touching you. Gojo has regained some of his control, reigning in his eagerness so he doesn’t get overzealous. The last thing he’d want is to hurt you. He wants the conception of his first baby–all his babies–to be perfect. Even if it’s him that’s asking for it, it’s not really about him. It’s about you. Your body. You’re the one that’s going to be going through the woes of pregnancy, so the least Gojo can do is make the prelude feel good. He kisses your leg again, sinking his face into the soft skin, absolutely melting as he frames himself between your thighs.

There’s an ease to the way his arms hook behind your knees, pulling you down the bed until you’re flush against his face. The sound you make when his nose nudges at your clit has his head going hazy, empty to anything that isn’t you. Sleep still clings around the edges as you moan his name, a low hum that’s steeped in fading fatigue. He can feel your body rising to full consciousness, finally catching up with your mind as your legs shift along the curve of his shoulders. 

You’re still so warm, that sleepy heat lingering as your thighs close around his head the moment he wraps his lips around your clit. He’s only got his lips on you for a second and you’re already squirming, half trying to run away from his mouth. Gojo laughs, the sound rolling off his tongue to tease at your clit. You whine, pushing at his head even as your thighs pull him closer. He whines when you scramble far enough to get away from his mouth, glassy eyes staring up at you like you just slapped him across the face. There’s tears sparkling in your eyes as you look down at him, brows furrowed and lips caught between your teeth. Gojo leans in again, real slow like you won’t notice if he moves at a steady pace. You whimper and start squirming again the second his lips brush against your skin. He tries to be gentle, kissing over the swollen hood of your clit as his tongue parts your sticky lips. A faint, whimpered “wait!” falls from your lips and Gojo pulls away, forcing back a groan, trying not to look at the way your pussy is drooling on his sheets. 

He presses a kiss over the curve of your mound, doing anything to distract himself from thinking about where he really wants his mouth to be. The mess of your arousal is drying sticky on his lips, leaving glossy little prints as he kisses across your stomach. 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” His voice is breathless, muffled against your chest as he crawls up your body. You’re still trying to pull him closer and push him away, thighs locked around his waist even as you knot a fist in his hair to pull him away from your pert little nipples. 

“Fucking tease,” he mumbles against your collarbone, void of any true malice. It would almost be amusing if he wasn’t nearly vibrating out of his skin with the strength it’s taking to restrain himself. 

He can’t help but grind against you when you pull him into a kiss. It’s a heated mess of tongue and teeth, barely passing for affection. It’s desperation on the cusp of frenzied aggression as he grinds against you, cursing at the barrier of fabric between you. You’re already clawing at his shirt and there’s no mistaking the sound as Gojo shreds the fabric to be closer to you. His pants are a bit harder to contend with, made infinitely more difficult with the way you’re all but fucking him through the fabric, legs locked so tight that he can barely inch his hand between you to shove the last piece of distance between you out of the way. He knows the moment you register his skin against yours. You’re babbling, close to tears as you whimper his name. It’s a broken mantra that sounds so sweet on your lips. He only gets his pants down to his knees before you’re shoving his hand out of the way. He nearly misses the determined mumble of “make it fit,” too focused on the way your hand feels wrapped around his dick. 

It snaps him back to focus for a second. Long enough to worry about you hurting yourself without his fingers to stretch you open first. But all thoughts melt from his mind the moment you guide his dick between your thighs. He can feel the last threads of his self control unwinding bit by bit as you clumsily guide him where you want him. It’s a messy drag up and down your slit before he catches against your entrance. He can feel how eager you are, clenching at his head as he grips at your hips to keep you still. 

“Just the tip,” he stutters even as you groan out your despair. “Be patient, baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” He still has the taste of you on the back of his tongue, that orgasm that you ruined for yourself. He can feel the way you’re still trying to pull him in closer, heels digging into the small of his back to no avail. Gojo is stronger than you. The strongest ever. And even when he’s on the cusp of coming–pitiful when he’s barely inside you–he can keep himself from giving into temptation if it means keeping you from harm. Even if you want it now, you’ll be cursing and whining about how sore you are later and he wants this to be a good memory. It’s messy and fast but he can still practically see the hearts in your eyes when he looks down at you. Then you smile and he knows he’s a goner. 

“I’m gonna come,” Gojo says without a shred of embarrassment. He’s long past that as he feels your pussy suck at the tip of his cock. He doesn’t go any deeper, still feeding you shallow thrusts as he goes over the edge. It’s a disappointment to watch the steaks of white spilling out of you when he pulls back, sticky threads still clinging between you. 

“Gotta keep it inside, mama,” he murmurs, already cleaning up the mess with his fingers. Your hand is on his shoulder the second he curls his fingers inside you. Pushing and pulling as your nails scratch across his skin. Only you can ever leave marks on him, only you can ever touch him like this. He gets drunk off the thought, balancing himself on his forearm as he presses his forehead against yours. Your face is wet, smeared with tears and spit and sweat. You look dewy in the lowlight, eyes glittering up at him. It’s muscle memory getting you to the edge. He knows just where to press, just how deep you need it. It’s so second nature that Gojo nearly forgets he’s got his fingers inside you until you shove your hand between your bodies, rubbing desperately at your neglected clit until your back is arching, pressing your chest against his. He can feel your heart fluttering behind your breasts as your nipples skim over his bare skin. 

When you finally sag against the sheets, coming down from the high, your hand slinks over his shoulder until you’re cupping his cheek. Gojo leans into the touch like it’s the last thing he’ll ever feel. 

“It’s time, Satoru,” you say, voice soft and breathless. “Let’s have a baby.” 

The sound he makes sounds pitifully desperate even to his own ears but Gojo can’t bring himself to stifle his voice. He only gets louder when he’s inside you again. An orgasm has you loosened enough to take him now, pulling him in with three deep strokes.

“Just like that, mama,” he murmurs. You’re less erratic now, far calmer after coming once already. “Not running now, are you?” You have the nerve to look bashful, looking away as he rubs his hands down your sides. It’s easy to guide you now, to get you to follow his rhythm as he bottoms out inside you with each thrust. There’s something so enamored about your eyes as you stare up at him. Dazed and half-lidded, full of adoration as you catch his arm where he’s holding your hips. The adoration that floods through him the moment he feels your thumb brushing against his wrist is enough to nearly choke him. Fuck, he wants to marry you. Wants you to be his in every way possible. But there’s still a thousand things he needs to do first. Things to make the world better for you and your baby. His eyes fall to your stomach, vision almost doubling from how hard he’s staring at your tummy. There’ll be a baby in there soon. His baby. Gojo feels himself getting close at the thought. 

“Eyes on me, baby.” It’s a sound like music as you call his attention back to your face. Something you only say when his eyes are closed. He was lost in his dreams of the future. Of babies with his name and your face. 

“I’m here,” he assures you, panting the words against your parted lips in a messy imitation of a kiss. Words are spilled in a slurred litany between soaked mouths with no clear distinction between either whining voice. The sentiment is the same no matter which one of you is saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

“What do you want?” Gojo feels himself murmuring. It’s a hushed mumbling that comes as the end of a long drawl of your name, so low that the syllables come out as graveled sounds against the edge of your ear. Still, you answer to the barest hint of his voice, back bowing off the bed like you’re drawn towards him like a flower to the sun. His arm fills the space, wrapping around your waist. He can feel the way you shiver on the cusp of falling over the edge, can hear it in your voice as you babble your answer of, “you, you, you, just you!” 

“My babies?” He can’t help but goad and tease even though he’s so deep inside you that there’s no question of what you want from him. Still, you answer. Clawing at his shoulders as you do. 

“Yes, Satoru! Your babies, only yours!” It lights something deep and possessive in his chest as he reaches a hand down to rub the shape of his name on your clit. It’s the best he can offer with no ring, no wedding. Writing his name on your skin, pressing his mark into every corner of your body until he can do it the right way. 

“My babies. My girl.” He sets his teeth against the skin of your throat, tasting the sweat as the sound of your voice vibrates across his tongue. There’s no mistake of what you want when you come. Your legs lock tight around him like he’d try to run from the way you’re milking his cock. Squeeze tight like you never want him to leave. He squeezes you tighter in turn, fingers pressed tight against the shivering column of your spine. He spells his name there too, tracing each muscle as they move under his fingertips. He feels your hands in his hair again, scratching at the back of his head. It’s a feeling he’s come to associate with comfort–with you–and it’s enough to throw him headlong over the edge. 

When he tosses his head back, cursing towards the ceiling, your hand is still there to catch him. Brushing against the nape of his neck as your nose tucks up under his chin. He feels your lips wet and hot against the place his pulse is racing in his throat, and knows you can feel each whining pant of your name as it falls from his lips. It’s the only word he knows as his stomach flexes, ropes of come spilling inside you. So much that it starts to leak out in a dribbling mess. Gojo is quick to pull you up, struggling to his knees so he can keep his come where it needs to be. He’s still pulsing inside you, achy from the sensitivity as your walls squeeze around him. You start squirming as the high fades, wiggling in his hold and mumbling about “put me down.” 

Gojo hikes one of your legs higher, pressing a kiss to your ankle. “Can’t, mama. Gotta keep it in or it won’t stick.” 

He placates you with another orgasm, thumbing at your clit until you’re whining and shivering. He can feel the dull pulses as it washes over you, clenching his dick as he softens inside you. You’re so warm that it feels like he’s melting but Gojo can’t suffer the thought of pulling out just yet. But he does finally let you down. He follows you as you sprawl across the rumpled bedding, resting his head against your chest. He nuzzles against your breast until you snap at him to quit it when he sneaks a nipple into his mouth. He pulls away with a pout, kissing across your chest because he can still feel the way your heart is hammering behind your ribs. Your skin is hot beneath his lips and tacky with sweat but he can feel the goosebumps starting to rise with each kiss. 

A car honks outside. The sound carries from down the hall where, somewhere in the apartment, a window is still open. A draft blows in through the half-open bedroom door. He’s not cold yet, but he can feel the shivers starting as you cling to him, soaking up the warmth of his body. He lets you pull him in, reveling in the closeness. 

“Puppy,” you mumble affectionately as he nuzzles closer. You press kisses to his eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, the corner of his mouth. Places only you can touch. Even without his Infinity, people act like Gojo’s face–his eyes–are something beyond human. Sometimes he feels like something divine and untouchable but then your lips press softly against his eyelids and he’s suddenly just a man. A desperate, possessive man. He catches your mouth against his, licking at the seam of your lips until they part to let him taste your tongue against his. When he’s done he takes the liberty of licking a bead of sweat from your temple and you push him away, whining about him being gross. 

“S’not gross,” he pouts. “I love you.” He says it like an explanation. Like everything he does can trace back to the fact that he can’t breathe if he goes without touching you for too long. Tasting your sweat is one of the tamer things he’s done to prove his love. Sometimes Gojo wonders if you forget that he’d burn the world down for you. Then he remembers that he’s already doing it. For you, for your baby. For himself. His hand squeezes between your bodies to press against your stomach. Soon, he smiles at the thought. Now. 

“You should eat something, baby.” He hears you talking, hears the concern in that soft, satisfied tone, but you’re stroking his hair like you’d rather he fall asleep against your chest. 

“C’mon,” you say when he doesn’t move, patting where your nails left scratches across his shoulders. “I’ll make you food and then we can go again later.” Gojo chokes on his breath with how fast he’s trying to get his words out. “Calm down, baby, I know it takes more than once to make a baby.” 

Gojo watches you grab his shirt off the floor–the one he just took off, not the one you’d been wearing all day–tucking your nose into the collar as you waddle to the bathroom with your knees hugged tight to keep the mess he made from dripping on the carpet. Fuck, he wants to marry you. The look you give him when you come out of the en-suite, eyeing the way he’s tenting the sheets just thinking about his come spilling out of you does little to make him feel ashamed. He waits long enough for his body to calm down before he’s pulling on a pair of shorts and joining you in the kitchen. You’re bouncing around in front of the stove, making eggs even though it’s late in the evening. Gojo crosses his legs and tries not to imagine that you’re making breakfast before school, waiting for your oldest to finish getting dressed as you bounce your youngest on your hip. 

“You want pancakes?” He must nod because you start making batter. 

“You gotta move in with me,” Gojo reminds you, eyes watching the way your–his!–shirt hikes up every time you lift your arms too high, conspicuously checking for a peek of what’s hidden just beneath the black fabric. 

“My lease is up in like two weeks.” And just like with your teasing not pregnant yet, Gojo knows he has you. For good. Happiness suddenly smells like freshly fallen snow and maple syrup. 

[feminine-obedient-alexandra]

Silence is Golden. Or: Women should shut up.

One thing Men really don't need (especially after a long workday) is a waterfall of words when they come home. This does not mean Men don't care about us, but they are not as communicative as we are. They need their quiet and rest to recharge their energy.

Also one of the main reasons why a man wants a divorce is a nagging wife. Nagging can be really harmful (even to your Man's health) and sadly, nagging happens automatically when we just word vomit whatever comes to our minds. We tend to talk for the sake of talking because we want to communicate with our Man and we want to include him in our life. The problem, however, is that Men can't differentiate between what is important to us and what is just word salad. Men tend to focus on problems and want to provide us with solutions, so whenever we bring up problems to them they feel the need to solve them. That can put a lot of stress on them (especially when they are listening to us instead of recharging their batteries). So even if we don't mean to nag them, we often do so by accident.

It is important to reduce our communication (while on the other hand, it is important for Men to increase theirs) so we can meet each other somewhere in the middle. This is where gags can come in handy. It is easy to restrain yourself from talking when you have a gag in your mouth. It makes us think about what to say and prioritize the information we wanna give our Man. As a special hint to Men: gags can also be super useful during movies or sport watching if your girl has the tendency to talk over the TV. Don't cheap out on gags though. It is important to get a comfortable one. First, you have to get the size right. You probably have to try a few different ones, but i prefer ball gags with a slightly smaller ball. Don't go too cheap on the straps however, they need to be easy on the skin too. A full muzzle can be super useful and comfortable too, but the act of putting it on and off can be a bit of a nuisance. Now comes the most difficult part. Dear Sirs, i know that when your girl is gagged you feel super relaxed and you could let this go on forever. But it is really important that you give your girl her talky time. She needs to vent, she needs to talk nonsense and most importantly, she needs you to care about her life. So gag her when you need your quiet when you need to rest some, when you need to get some energy back or when you just need some me-time. This is perfectly fine. She doesn't need to talk 24/7, even if she wants to. But keep the clock in mind. Your girl needs her talky time as well. You can limit it and move it to when it suits you best, but you cannot get rid off it. This would only lead to an unhappy girl. But keep in mind that when her talking gets to much, you can gag her again. Just be fair about it and be sure to give her the attention she needs.

Please make sure she doesn't see it as punishment but as an important part of your relationship: quiet time. With young kids "quiet time" is an important thing in their education. And never forget that girls are like young children, so it is often wise to use tips for kids' education when dealing with us. i really believe that gags can increase the happiness of any couple. Like most things in a relationship, it is best when the Man is in charge and sets the right priorities. He has to handle it fair though. Remember that you are the boss, you decide. But your decisions have consequences and your job is to keep the relationship flourishing. So take what you need but give what you can.

[brucewaynehater101]

Have you ever read a fic called A Medication On Railroading? Because I think you'll like it. Basic summery with no spoilers: Jack takes Tim on a trip to Atlanta and then leaves him in Atlanta so he goes train hopping to get home. Very hurt/comfort.

But it also gives me an idea that I'm not sure where to share. What if that wasn't Tim's first time getting home like that? Maybe the first time was just New York when he was say... 9 years old? His parents took him with them to a Gala and Jack thought Janet called him a car home and Janet thought Jack took care of it. Neither one did and Tiny Tim figured out how to get home on his own. It happens again when he's 11 so he already knows what to do, he studied up in case it happened again.

After the second time, anytime Tim is with his parents he keeps his camera bag on him at all times which has 300 dollars in it that he can use on getting home. Tim also discovers during the second one that trains are *way* better than busses and cabs. He's all alone, just him and the scenery and whatever cargo his car holds. He can Fully Relax. He doesn't have to be the perfect heir, he doesn't have to smile for the cameras, he doesn't have to be quiet or good or perfectly polite. He can scream and laugh and cry if he wants to and no one will ever know! He can sing and curse and throw rocks at things! He can be a *kid*.

After Tim becomes Robin, he never calls Batman for a pick up if he's abandoned somewhere and instead will make his own way home. Heck, after some missions with Young Justice he will turn off his trackers and ride trains home so that he can loudly vent about them without having to worry about anyone ever knowing what he said!

This does become a slight problem when he's 17 and Bruce needs him for something and finds out from Bart that their mission ended a day and a half ago. But Tim never called for pick up. And his trackers are all offline. And he never hit his emergency beacon and *no one can find him*. Bruce totally isn't freaking out. The other Bats totally aren't freaking out. Young Justice totally isn't freaking out. There totally isn't a panic spreading through the super hero community about Red Robin maybe being dead I a ditch somewhere and how both Batman and his team will react.

Tim meanwhile is straight vibing as he reclines on a stack of bags of rice like they're pillows, singing along to some sound track he downloaded onto his MP3 player, having turned the volume to max and nearly screaming the lyrics because it's the one time he feels like he can.

Yes! I love that fic you mentioned. It's really really good. Perhaps I should re read it since it's been a minute.

Also, I absolutely adore the little tidbit you've added. A few things to note that I love about it:

No one else knows/finds out until he's Red Robin

It's a semi-decent coping mechanism. He gets to chill out, vibe, and process. He's also in touch with nature and music during this.

Tim drops his various masks to simply exist for a bit

Tim chilling on some rice bags in a train cart with an MP3 player (not even his phone. This indicates he's fully offline during these trips)

A few additional notes to add. One, this could buff up the canon notion that pre-Robin Tim traveled far to go see Dick at the circus and convince him to become Robin again. If Tim had already done that twice unexpectedly, he'd do swell when he actually plans to do it.

Two, Tim probably created a white noise generator or something to give him totally privacy on his "me trips." This is why Kon and Superman freak out. They can't hear him.

Three, he probably gets covered in grime, dust, and dirt. He's no longer in the pristine environment he grew up in.

Gods. That sounds so nice and relaxing. I'm actually kind of jealous. Just the wind, music, and the slowly changing scenery? Fuuuck.

[melon-fodder]

ALWAYS HAVE BEEN • T. HIRAGI

Summary: Hiragi drops in on you unannounced after a fight. Once you patch him up things take an unexpected turn, one you’ve wanted for years.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: smut, reader is Matsumoto’s sister in some capacity, mentions of fighting, very minor injuries, reader has female anatomy, Hiragi gets dirty in this (bless), fingering, oral (f! receiving), p in v, multiple orgasms, squirting, dirty talk, pet names: pretty girl, baby

Note: This got away from me so fast, but it needed to happen. Finally, finally, I have written something more than a drabble for the love of my life 💚 Enjoy~

The bathroom is still full of steam when you step out of the shower, keeping your face damp even after toweling it off. You dry your hair as well as you can, comb some leave-in conditioner through it, then wipe part of the mirror clear to get started on your simple skin care routine. The vent is loud enough to block out any sound from outside, specifically the door to your apartment opening and closing, a voice that would be familiar calling out for your brother. Ignorant of your guest, you just keep humming, rubbing in moisturizer, gliding your jade roller over your face. The tool clatters into the sink when you startle, jumping out of your skin when you hear a deep voice on the other side of the door, “Yo, Matsumoto–” Hiragi, one of your brother’s closest friends and fellow member of Bofurin. Despite not feeling threatened that he’s in your home, your heart rate doesn’t slow down one bit. In fact, it speeds up. “You still have that first-aid kit somewhere?” he calls out, and you rush to wrap a towel around yourself, knotting it securely over your chest, then crack the door to peer up at him. Hiragi’s eyebrows raise high on his forehead, pink dusting his cheeks when he realizes– “Yodai isn’t home right now.” “Shi–I mean, sorry, I’ll leave.” There’s a bruise blooming just beside his left eye, and his bottom lip is split open on one side. You don’t even have to look at his hands to know that his knuckles are bloodied. They stay in a constant state of rawness, similar to your brother’s. “No, it’s fine,” you tell him as he begins to back away. It’s an awkward situation, but, while you would have been mortified a couple years ago, you’re more comfortable with yourself now. Plus, you know for a fact Hiragi would never hurt you. “Give me a second to make myself, ya know, decent,” you gesture vaguely to yourself which makes the man flush even darker and stare at the ceiling, “and then I’ll grab the first-aid kit for ya’.”

Hiragi clears his throat before muttering, “thanks,” then strides back out to the living room, leaving you to skitter across the hall into your bedroom to put some damn clothes on.

You’ve known the Furin boys (men now, you suppose) since high school when Yodai joined. Out of all of them, you’re most familiar with Yanagida, Kaji, and of course, Hiragi, having grown accustomed to them dropping in at all hours, usually after fights but sometimes just to relax. First it had been at your family home, but even when you and your brother moved into your own small, shared apartment, you still found yourself walking into a full house fairly often.

The point is that you’re comfortable with all of them. Even if you’ve been harboring a tiny (massive) crush on Hiragi since the day you met him. It’s fine, though. Everything will be fine. You’ll get him patched up and send him on his way, and nothing will change even though he just saw you in nothing but a towel.

You could have covered up a little better, probably should have, but it’s your apartment, so when you walk back out it���s in a faded metal band t-shirt and a pair of maybe-too-small terry cloth shorts. Whatever.

Hiragi is sitting in the kitchen and straightens up when you walk in, immediately apologizing again until you wave him off.

“It’s fine, I promise. I’ve gotten pretty used to you popping in with no warning,” you kid.

“I didn’t realize it was… I mean, I texted your brother to give him a heads up.”

“Well, as it happens, he does occasionally do things that aren’t gang-related. Errands, dates…”

Hiragi scoffs as you open one of the high cabinets, something about, “I’d know if Matsumoto was datin’ someone. He’s just blowin’ me off ‘cause I put him to work yesterday–hey!” He’s suddenly on his feet when he notices you swing a leg up on the counter. “Don’t climb that! You’re gonna break your damn neck!”

Pulling you off and away from the oh-so dangerous countertops, Hiragi reaches into the cabinet that is much more accessible to him–god, he’s so tall, deliciously tall–and retrieves the little red box you were aiming for. When he starts for the hallway again you catch him by the wrist and try to lead him back into his chair.

“I can patch myself back up, kid,” he tells you. The name raises your hackles while simultaneously forcing a shiver down your spine. Yodai calls you ‘kiddo’ but he’s allowed, even if you are only a few months younger than him. Hiragi, though… You would really prefer if he was able to see past the whole Matsumoto’s little sister thing.

“Just sit down,” you command more than request. “You have clumsy man fingers. I’ll be able to do a better job.”

And you do, dabbing at the tiny cut on his eyebrow with a cotton ball before carefully applying a butterfly bandage. The bruise on the side of his head doesn’t show any broken skin, so there’s not much you can do there, but you are able to tend to that swollen lip. Hiragi pouts like he isn’t a huge fan of you taking care of him like this, but tough shit. It’s in your nature. Plus, you’ve got far gentler hands. He’d probably find a way to hurt himself even worse, get too rough with a q-tip or something.

It’s quiet for a little while, and you are keenly aware of how close you are to him (another contributing factor as to why you’re doing this? Possibly). You’re bent at the waist while dabbing at his face, and you know your shirt is offering a bit of a view after cutting the collar open years ago in an attempt to give it an edgier look. Hiragi isn’t looking, though, gaze trained upward as he pushes his lip out for you.

“He really out on a date?” he eventually asks, and you smirk. Apparently, he doesn’t handle silence well either.

“Yeah,” you answer, waiting a beat before adding, “with our mom.”

Hiragi tries to smile only for you to squish his cheeks together, poking your tongue out at him when he makes a noise of protest.

You think you’re playing it pretty cool so far–casual and lighthearted. That doesn’t mean you aren’t thinking about how you want to pepper his face with kisses, though. Just get comfortable in his lap, play with the short, bleached hairs at the back of his head. See how much you can tease him before he starts rolling his hips against yours…

“Wha’re you ‘hinkin awout?” Hiragi halfway manages through the grip you have on his face.

You let go of him, realize you’re sucking on your own lip, that your eyelids have gotten heavy with desire, but you pull yourself out of it with a short shake of your head.

“Nothing important.”

“No?” He surprises you by sitting forward, and the sudden motion makes you stumble back just enough to trigger his instincts into reaching out and grabbing you before you can fall over. Hands around your waist (huge, warm hands) Hiragi pins you with jasper eyes. “Nothin’ important?”

You swallow visibly. Audibly. But shake your head again. He’s just doing that thing–that subtle check-in, making sure you’re okay without actually asking. Thinks he scared you earlier or that you’re pissed at him showing up in the first place. It’s not like he’s holding you like this just to fuck with you. Hiragi isn’t the type to do that.

But he also isn’t the type to linger, more of a head-pat or brief one armed hug type of guy. So why are his fingers curling against the hem of your shirt? And why is he lifting his eyebrow like that?

“Not often it’s just you n’ me alone, huh?” he prompts, finally letting his hands drop to his thighs.

“No,” your voice cracks and you swear internally. “No, not since that one time in school when the others ran off without you.” A fight that Yodai took very personally, ignoring his captain when Hiragi had called out to him to slow down, responding only with, “keep my sister safe!” as if he had any right to demand something like that from his higher-up.

But it was Hiragi, so he did in fact stay behind to keep an eye on you while Yodai and Kaji brawled out in the school yard. It was right around that time that your crush on him had really bloomed, so being alone in a room with him… You spent most of the time shaking in the corner, eyes darting back and forth between Hiragi and anywhere else. Of course he noticed, frowning at you in confusion but not willing to ask questions and make you even more uncomfortable.

“You were terrified of me back then,” he chuckles now, showing off sharp teeth that you want to feel against your neck.

You laugh–giggle, really–because, “I was not scared of you.”

“What? You were shakin’ like a leaf. I remember you all curled up in one of the desks.”

“Yeah, but not ‘cause I was scared,” you reiterate. “I had a crush on you, idiot.”

It’s okay if he knows now, just as long as you talk about it like it’s in the past, like you’ve moved on.

Hiragi’s eyes widen, truly surprised. “Wait, for real?”

“For real,” you grin, deciding now is a good time to gather up the used cotton balls and throw them away. Putting a few feet of distance between the two of you is good, helps you take in full breaths. Still, even on the other side of the kitchen you can feel his eyes on you.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

You spin around, not expecting that question at all, and grapple for a believable answer. “M-me? Back then? Are you kidding? I was so… All I did was follow Yodai around like some–”

“Kid sister?” he finishes for you, an amused smile lifting the swollen side of his mouth. “It was cute.”

Your jaw drops, somehow offended and flattered at the same time. “It was weird. Like I didn’t have friends or anything better to do.”

Hiragi shrugs. “You just seemed kinda shy. Innocent. Like I said, it was cute.”

Narrowing your eyes, you know you’re about to say something stupid, but you just can’t help it. “Innocent? And you thought it was cute? You some kind of creep, Ragi?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Depends. You still got that crush on me?”

Yes. “No.” You answer too quickly. Way too quickly. And Hiragi’s eyes shine. Trying to recover, you walk back toward him, doing your absolute best to look unfazed and confident. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter since I’m not all shy and innocent anymore.”

Hiragi stands up, all 187 centimeters of shiny leather and bleached hair looming over you, and you feel your breath hiccup in your throat. Fuck, he’s only gotten hotter over the years, and you’ve only gotten more desperate for him.

“Who said I was still into that sorta thing?”

You know you look ridiculous, gazing up at him with big doe eyes, lips parted, absolutely everything written all over your face, and all that confidence is gone because he’s staring down at you, and he knows. He knows your feelings, knows you want him. Now.

You don’t think; you just do–shoving yourself up on your tiptoes while wrapping your fingers in his shirt, you pull Hiragi toward you, kissing him hard enough to force a grunt from him. He doesn’t hesitate to respond, bending on his own accord while walking you back to the nearest wall and pressing you to it. You breathe through your nose, each inhale full of his cologne and a hint of sweat. The taste of antiseptic barely registers when you swipe your tongue over his lip, overpowered by the remnants of blood.

His body is hot and hard against yours. Not just the bulge pressing into your stomach, but his chest, his abs, the thigh that slides between yours. You can’t help but grind down on it, gasping into his mouth at the same time he mutters a deep, “fuck.”

His hands are under your shirt, squeezing your curves, blunt nails lightly scratching, and he groans when he traces the swell of your bare tits.

Pulling away, Hiragi huffs against your neck, voice like gravel when he tells you, “I’m about to defile you,” so matter-of-fact that it makes you moan out loud.

“Fu–please, want you so bad,” you whine, and it’s pitiful. Pathetic. Nothing cool or casual about you now as you pant for him. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“I know.” He takes your face in both hands, nodding so that his nose bumps into yours. “M’right here, I’ve gotcha.”

Hiragi kisses you again, teeth nipping until you open your mouth for him. The sensation of his tongue against yours has you all but riding his thigh. You know you’ll be leaking through your skimpy underwear if you haven’t already, and your arousal only increases when Hiragi bends to grip you by the thighs, lifting you onto the nearest countertop.

It makes you snicker, “m’gonna break my neck, remember?”

“Tch.” Hiragi kisses down said neck, stopping to bite and suck, hand on your back to feel how it arches for him. “Not gonna let that happen.”

One hand under your shirt, Hiragi uses his other to dance along your leg, higher and higher until he reaches the bottoms of your shorts, loose enough to slip beneath.

“Tell me to stop if you–”

“Don’t stop.”

He laughs, shrugging out of his jacket when you start to push it off his shoulders, and once it’s on the floor his hands are on you again, fingers disappearing under your shorts to stroke over your poorly covered pussy. Hiragi hums in satisfaction, obviously pleased at how wet you are. You expect him to comment on it since he obviously has a bit of smartass in him, but he doesn’t. Instead he drops to his knees and starts tugging at your bottoms.

You can barely process what’s happening. Is he really–are you finally–holy shit, you’ve dreamt of this. His face between your legs, tongue lapping at your slick, a finger slowly sinking into your wanton cunt.

“Ohh, fuck, fuck…”

You feel the points of his teeth graze your puffy folds, sharp and teasing before he wraps his lips around your swelling clit and sucks.

The noise you let out is embarrassing, high-pitched and uncontrolled. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, softer than expected. Must’ve switched from gel to something else. The thought makes you laugh a little hysterically. Here he is, Toma Hiragi, eating your pussy like it’s his job, and you’re thinking about his hair. He shuts you up with a second finger, though, both of them bent to rub against your g-spot, and you whimper as pressure begins to build between your hips.

It feels so good. He feels so fucking good, licking and slurping and fucking you with his fingers, but you want more, you– “Ragi, please, fuck, I want… I need…”

One long lick to the crest of your pussy then he asks, “what do you need?” only to return to sucking on your clit again, stealing your breath away for just a moment. “Tell me, come on, pretty girl, use your words.”

“I–” Pretty girl. “I—” his fingers are still moving inside you, making your head loll back and hit the cabinets behind you. “I–fuck, need to feel you.”

He stands, still not pulling his fingers from you, and he uses his thumb to circle your clit as he leans into your space and teases, “need me? I’m right here.”

Your eyes roll behind fluttering lids, lips pulling down into a pout that he promptly covers with his own, messy mouth. He’s overwhelming, fingers moving perfectly, milking slick from you with every stroke of your g-spot, and fuck, the way he’s kissing you, how he’s touching you, how he’s teasing you with a soft, “yeah, baby? Can’t even talk, huh? Feel that good?” He’s filthy. Hiragi is so much dirtier than you imagined, and you have imagined a lot when it comes to him.

“Fuck me, please please please, Ragi, wanna feel your cock,” you babble, tears pricking the corners of your eyes because it’s so much, and you’re ready to cum, but there’s something missing. You need to feel all of him first.

The clinking of his belt draws your hazy eyes downward, and you salivate when he pushes his pants down and his cock springs free–long enough to make you shudder with anticipation, thick enough to make you pulse with need, and hard enough to make you preen. You did that to him. You’re doing this to him. You’re the reason for that shiny bead of pre glistening at his slit.

You want to lick it clean, fuck, you want to suck him off, swallow him down, feel him in your stomach. You want him to cum down your throat and fill you up and–

“You look like you wanna eat me,” he says. For a guy with a split lip, he sure is smirking a lot. Doesn’t that sting?

“I wanna do a lot of things to you, Hiragi, but first…” you reach down with a trembling hand, fingers wrapping around his smooth shaft, “I want you to fuck me.”

Growling, he pulls you to the very edge of the counter, conveniently the perfect height for him to line himself up with you. He rubs his tip between your sloppy lips, slapping it against your clit a couple times and sucking your gasp straight from your lips when he kisses you.

You squeal when he starts to push inside you, his thick head already stretching you, but he murmurs, “I’ll go slow,” into your mouth. His voice is shakier than before, strained while he stays true to his word. Skilled fingers rub your clit, massaging it while sinking deeper into you. The stretch is, fuck, it’s perfection. It twinges in the most delicious way, his cock steadily bullying your walls, making way for itself like it belongs there. The stretch and the sounds and his fingers on your swollen bud all have your toes curling and back bowing.

“O-oh, Jesus, Ragi, I’m–m’gonna…”

“Come on, show me how pretty you look when you cum,” he grunts, bottoming out just in time for your pussy to start spasming, clenching over and over as you make a mess all over him. “Yeah, just like that, look at you creamin’ on my cock–you gonna squirt too?” He starts swiping over your clit faster than before, pulling out and fucking back into you as you ride out your orgasm, your sopping hole opening up for him even more as you– “there it is, god damn, such a pretty pussy. You always this messy, or s’it just for me?”

You can’t speak. Hiragi keeps fucking squirt out of you, hips relentless, just like his fingers on your clit, and before you know it he’s forcing another full-body orgasm out of you.

You didn’t know it would be this good. Didn’t know it could be this good. You’ve had sex with a few other guys, and some had even managed to get you off, but not like this. This is something else entirely.

Much to your dismay, Hiragi begins to slow, and it’s only when you open bleary eyes that you notice the tears streaming down your face. For the first time since he got to the apartment and almost walked in on you, he looks concerned.

“Am I hurtin’ you?” he asks, a calloused thumb wiping your wet cheek.

You shake your head, legs wrapping around his waist to urge him deeper. “No, no, you just, mm, you feel so good.”

He bites his lip, thrusting a little faster again, little harder, groans that you, “feel fuckin’ perfect, baby. Think your pussy was made for me.”

Your words are broken and breathy as you agree with him, “it was–all yours, Ragi, I’m all yours…” too high off endorphins and overwhelmed with pleasure to even recognize what you’re admitting to.

“Yeah?” he slows again, but the way he’s burying himself inside of you is making you drool. “Always been my girl, haven’t ya’?

You nod, and he catches you in another brain-addling kiss, breathing a barely coherent, “yours, too. Been yours since day one.”

You lock your arms around his neck, pulling him impossible closer, and when his hips start to stutter you press your mouth to his, swallowing his low groan as he spills his load inside of you. The kiss is sweeter than all the others before, tongues lazy and clumsy as he uses you to milk himself dry, and once both of you are entirely spent, your lips stay molded together, hot and insistent, saying everything that has yet to be said out loud.

“You meant it?” he asks quietly, that sinful tone gone from his voice, replaced with something much softer. “You’re still my girl?”

You sigh dramatically and nuzzle into his neck. “Always have been, probably always will be.”

Face in your hair, Hiragi chuckles, “don’t sound so embarrassed.”

“It is embarrassing. Been pining after you for years.”

“At least you weren’t the one chasin’ after your friend’s little sister.”

Lifting your head, you regard him with a raised eyebrow, “speaking of, what are you gonna tell Yodai?”

He shrugs, the picture of nonchalant despite still being balls deep inside of you. “I’ll be respectful, but in the end I’m still his superior.”

“The Furin hierarchy still stands when it comes to fucking sisters?” you laugh.

“If it means I can be with you without catchin’ any bullshit for it, absolutely.” He punctuates it with a peck to your forehead then looks down between the two of you. “We should probably, uh…”

“Get cleaned up before it’s too late?”

“Exactly. Otherwise–”

Keys turn in the lock. The front door opens.

You look at Hiragi with wide eyes as he turns red from his neck to his hairline.

“Wait right there, Yodai!” you call out frantically, fighting a whimper when Hiragi pulls out a little too quickly.

There isn’t enough time, though, not for him to zip himself back in his pants and definitely not enough for you to pull yours back on.

Yodai rounds the corner, takes in the scene, then turns right back around while shouting, “the kitchen counter? Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

Do not copy, modify, or repost my work. I do not consent to my writing being used for AI.

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Hi dear I hope you're doing well and I was hoping if you can do the whole greaser gang with a s/o that's like Fiona Gallagher from the show shameless? Like she's taking care of her six siblings and her dad who's usually at the bar or passed out somewhere. Their mother ran out and is mentally ill so their s/o is left to be her siblings mother/father/ and nurse fill free to ignore if you want to do and I hope you have a good day!

Summary: The Outsider x Fiona Gallagher!Reader Warnings:mentions of absent mother, drinking, very toxic adult behavior, dysfunctional family Author's Note: gonna be busy tmrw and weekend again, ill try and post 1 fic per day but no promises.

PONYBOY CURTIS

Ponyboy doesn’t really live in a dysfunctional family, yes his home life is tough but Darry loves him and tries his best and pony knows that

However, pony cant mentally put himself in Darry’s shoes of having no-one to lean on and having to take care of many siblings

When he first met you, he was absolutely smitten. And when you told him of your problems, he thought you were the toughest chick in town

He often asks Darry what to do to take a couple of burdens off your shoulder. He applies it to you and also at home, you’ve made him a better person.

JOHNNY CADE

Has a dysfunctional family and can understand, to an extent..he still gets fed sometimes and doesn’t have to work to stay in his home

But he doesn’t have a hard time adjusting to you.

He’s very open and loves your siblings, so he tries to take them out as many times as possible to give you some rest.

He genuinely doesnt understand how your parents could have left you doing all this by yourself when you’re such a perfect girl.

SODAPOP CURTIS

Soda admires you like you’re a work of art. 

He takes everything into consideration, for example, if he wants to take you on a date he’ll invite some of the gang members to hang out with your siblings and keep them away

Never asks you for anything, not to rant, vent or anything. He feels as if his problems could never measure up to yours so his whole world revolves around you.

Tries to spend as much of his money as possible to get you nice things and spoil you.

STEVE RANDLE

Steve understands how tough it is for you mentally. He’ll often stop by your place with something for you, like a box of chocolates or something. 

Whenever he’s over, he makes an effort to get to know and play with your siblings, he even was going to introduce himself to your dad. You convinced him it was a bad idea so he didnt.

He makes it known that you can tell him anything, literally anything, and he’d listen. He also wants you to know that you can call him anytime and he’d come for you.

Reassures you that he won’t ever leave you, that you’re special and he’s madly in love with you.

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two-Bit has some kid experience so he tries his hardest to keep your siblings company and even brings his sisters for ‘playdates’

Really enjoys spending time with you and would even do the chores around the house with you to keep talking with you.

He’s not very good at comforting people and he tries to make up for it by using his humor. You get where he’s coming from and it often helps a lot actually.

Tries his best to look nice for you when he comes over, he wants you to know he’s not a washed up nobody like your parents and wants to be a rolemodel to your siblings.

DARRY CURTIS

Often tells you that you’re perfect and that your siblings will grow so much better with you as their ‘parent’. He once made you cry because of what he said and he just held you in his arms while you sobbed.

He can sort of relate to what you’re going through but his is not as extreme as yours. 

Whenever he can he drops by to help you. Date night consists of making dinner for your siblings, washing the dishes and having a late night dinner together after you put your siblings to bed.

He knows you'd make a perfect wife since he’s old enough to marry, just waiting on the right time to pop the question.

DALLAS WINSTON

Dallas is insensitive and rude to you. He knows what you’re going through, he just doesn’t care.

However, once you caught him putting on a bandaid for your younger brother. He wasn’t kind about it, saying things like “can’t you do this yourself?” but he still did it.

He knows you saw it and thinks that hanging around your house and helping you with chores and siblings will keep you quiet about it

He doesn’t like kids, but he tolerates them for his reputation, and because you’re growing on him.

[lovekabaneri]

Hot Rod and the Lost Light in TF Mecha AU

Inspired by @keferon 's Mech Pilot Jazz AU and all the other fics shared here and on ao3, plus some really good ideas and fanart!

I was really inspired after reading the Hot Rod and Lost Light posts, where he's a titan and Roddy is just... this tiny speck of a human next to the titan, yet they somehow connect! So I wrote this! These are just rough drafts and ideas I have in my head for now. Will see if I write more on them.

-Richie Torres or Hot Rod, as he preferred to be called, was a hyperactive kid from the very beginning. He always seemed to be running at 110% to the dismay of his parents whenever they had to get him to bed. Before the invasion, he dreamed to be an athlete, then a doctor like in those medical dramas, then a fighter jet pilot, then to be a pirate or a sailor, then an astronaut, basically every profession that seemed to be action-packed and interesting. When the aliens arrived and the mech program started, it was like something in his mind clicked “This it what I want to do! This is the right thing for me!” and he knew what he wanted to work as. He became a volunteer at 21, then became an official pilot at 23 after 2 years of training and prep for a Neurolink implant. His first connection was overwhelming and he got a serious nosebleed after he was done but for the first time he felt like he found somewhere where he fits. His second time is much better and he’s a natural pilot. Then he gets to an actual battlefield after the test period he had to do to see if his brain would not turn to mush, and he somehow makes his mech catch on fire, the next time it repeats, again and again but he always gets out fine. Everyone is baffled because there shouldn’t even be anything to combust like that in a robot that was mostly metal. They can’t deny his results though, so they start building a custom mech, covered with as much fire-resistant material, then they start adding multiple exhaust pipes and vents to deal with the overheating, then metal rods and ports to expel even more of the heat. Eventually being on fire becomes Hot Rod’s thing, hence how he got the nickname, because his mech was fire and literally the only mech in the US force that used superheated air and fire to roast the aliens on the battlefield.

-He and Jazz become bffs as they both are natural at driving their mechs like it is a second skin, they both like music and sports, they both hate and fear Shockwave and are just bros that like vibing together. When Jazz is lost in space, Hot Rod is pissed and makes in HR’s problem, so he’s put on a short leave to ‘cool off’, like he could ever cool off! He takes out his frustration through training, fighting aliens even more aggressively and going out on extreme climbing.

-After a really bad week, troubles with the superiors, reports, pr stunts, photoshoots, seeing First Aid pulled out panicked and bleeding out of Vortex after the las surprise invasion where the haunted mech was almost smashed and forced to retreat, Hot Rod had to let off all the steam or he felt like his mech would spontaneously combust when he links again. He takes a few days off with permission and a note from Ratchet. Despite being retired, the old doc was still on call in emergencies and in Hot Rod’s phone, so he really owed one to the grumpy medic. Roddy goes hiking alone in the mountains, since he just needed time away from people. He likes things extreme, so after setting up camp, he goes climbing up the cliffs – it is steep, it is dangerous and he’s all alone, so he’s screwed if something happens to him but he doesn’t care, he just needed to let all the pent-up energy out. He’s pretty high up and away from any of the hiking trails or usual climbing spots when he slips and his handhold breaks off. He falls down a crevice and the only reason he’s not dead is the safety rope that was holding by literally the very last pin after he plummeted down. He’s scratched and a bit banged up but alive. He tries to get back up but the friction against the sharp rocks caused his rope to start breaking, so Hot Rod is forced to quickly find a stable place to stand, so he doesn’t fall and die. He’s all alone, in a crevasse between the rocks, sitting on a small ledge, barely big enough to hold him. He has to get out but his phone doesn’t have signal and he barely had any food or water to last him until someone might find him, if he was ever found.

-He decides to risk it and using his surviving gear and rock-climbing skills, he continues on, looking for a way out of this giant crack in the rocky mountain. As he goes further, he notices the crevasse actually has a flat bottom and it leads to some cave. It was too steep and risky to climb up, hence why he got low enough to see the bottom, but when he touches the ground with his feet, he feels a shiver/shock and almost like a breeze. He doesn’t know what but something from further in is calling him, he’s compelled to go further. He ends up in a large cave system, hidden until now from humans, and then, lodged within the rocks and dirt is an absolutely massive alien ship, the biggest Hot Rod has ever seen, (since until then aliens just opened portals or at most sent drones) bigger than the mech hangar at base, probably! He was scared but also awed by the sight. He was in wonder how such a ship was hidden from humanity for so long, how many millennia was this ship buried there? He approached the odd, slightly blocky, white alien ship, he notices some odd, faded letters he didn’t recognize on the side, done with red paint along with a face-shaped symbol that had to be some emblem. The ship was a bit of a wreck and obviously no one had been there in a long time, hence why he strode in so confidently, everything was dark and he had to use a flashlight. The halls, the doors, the items inside were all massive, it was big enough for mechs to casually walk through. “Are all aliens just giants?! Why did we get the short stick?!” – he says to himself.

-Hot Rod wanders for a long time, the ship was that massive, when he stumbles into a circular room after deciding to crawl through a vent, he was also a bit lost, it is mostly empty with some chairs and odd devices but he felt something different inside. It was like the air itself was charged with some energy. (It is the Lost Light’s control room but he doesn’t know that, yet!) He feels his hair stand up, like with static electricity and the feeling kept getting stronger as he got closer to the platform in the middle. He is curious and decides to climb up on the platform and walk around, maybe touch something. It is then that he places two hands on the metal below and he feels like a shock has run through his system. Suddenly the humm in the air becomes louder, lights start to flicker and slowly come to life, the whole ship seems to almost be groaning as the systems boot up. There’s almost a *thrum-thrumm* sound just ECHOING through the whole place. Hot Rod’s reaction is panic and “OH SHIT!” and he just jumps off and runs back. [sjnha…HHJsaonxc nc?] some gibberish sounds from somewhere above and Hot Rod just books it out of there as fast as he can, and he actually finds his way out too easily. Somehow, in his panic, he also found a way out of the cave, which was narrow and well-hidden in the forest between a few trees. He goes back to his camp and goes back to his home right after that. But even days later he can’t stop but think of the strange alien ship, there’s also this… warm, buzzing feeling in his chest, somewhere and he realized that it just FEELS RIGHT!

-Lost Light was a titan and a ship, its crew was part of the Autobots and helped fight for the cause but after an incident, it went MIA, thought to have been destroyed, along with its crew and previous captain and Cityspeaker – Rodimus Prime. But it actually was not destroyed, it crashed on Earth a few million years ago and was simply dormant after the shock caused by Rodimus’ offlining. BUT! The Lost Light woke up! He felt the connection! His processor was booting up and even if all his systems were not yet online and he was damaged and his nanites would need a while to repair him to a completely functional state, he was alive and woke up! His processor was jumpstarted when he felt that old connection light up with energy and life, just like when Rodimus connected with him! It felt like a dream or was this just his imagination? Was the captain really alive?! His systems were still booting up when he felt that small, bright, blazing spot in his control room jolt and run off somewhere [Captain… is that you?]  he asked but the spark didn’t stop, it continued moving, the Lost Light just opened a few doors to one of his entrances. He couldn’t do much more but to observe as his Cityspeaker left in a hurry, he wanted to follow but he was damaged and couldn’t move, even if he desperately wanted the captain back. The only thing that assured him it was not a dream or a glitch was the fact he still felt the connection with his captain with his spark and knew that wherever the captain was, he was alright.

-Hot Rod can now dream of the Lost Light and sometimes communicates with him in his sleep through their connection, playing off some ‘human technically have EM fields’ and a bit of reincarnation stuff, but thinks it is a dream, until Jazz comes back and/or he finds out Ratchet has alien robot roommate? He tells them he found an alien ship and that maybe they can use it to get back home when the government goes after them after Jazz saves Prowl.

-Shockwave makes deal with the Quintessons, since he’s crazy and has no morals, only science and their offer was better than the army’s. He takes control over the mechs and pilots through the link. Vortex and First Aid try and escape the dream together. Ratchet and Drift along with the rest of the staff organize a rescue. Jazz and Prowl manage to save themselves and go help. Eventually, First Aid and Vortex bruteforce their way out but Vortex will miss having hand after waking up. Hot Rod is trapped and panicking, the Lost Light feels it and the titan has had enough, so the Lost Light flies out of the cave with the grace of a giant alien ship and goes to save his Cityspeaker, because he just found the Captain and he was not losing him again! Needless to say, everyone is shocked, including the bots when the ship flies in and slams into one of the Quintesson ships flying overhead, then transforms into a giant robot. “There were still titans out there?!” – one of the bots asks in shock, since they all thought all titans were gone. Hot Rod is saved and the other pilots are freed from Shockwave’s control. Hot Rod finally sees the Lost Light in person while in his robot mode and Hot Rod is just… this tiny speck on the titan’s finger, but he immediately knows what to do, goes in and with the help of the Lost Light, they fight off the invading Quint fleet.

-Not sure if Roddy and Jazz would be Avatar-ed together or not but it would be cool idea and Rodimus Prime returning from the dead and reincarnation was something I really enjoyed! Jazz just has to be able to stay with Prowl forever, plus I liked the idea of him becoming a cybertronian in the end, so with some Allspark/Space alien magic mumbo jumbo and boom! You got a couple of brave, selfless humans being cybertronians! Jazz for sure would get injured in the final battle and almost die before becoming a bot.

[opal-owl-flight]

Something wicked this way flies….

Watched Wicked and was finally motivated to finish this piece I had in my wips for AGES

More abt this fella below!

Her name is Cynthia and shes mad ALL THE TIME. A simmering fury, always bubbling below her calm exterior.

Her reasons were mysterious to me for the longest time. I always thought she was just a bastard who likes to lord her power over everyone. To an extent she does enjoy doing so, but theres more beyond that.

Shes angry, shes frustrated, and she vents it on her foes in turf. Kids included. Especially the kids. Shithead.

Shes known as the Wicked Witch of Turf, the Iron Maiden, And EEEVERYONE wants her down.

She only has one person shes close to. Odessa.

Shes here bc she wants to tag along someone whos actually making waves in turf instead of messing with low-ranks that very much dont impress her... (among...other reasons)

Odessa only cared for her bc she thought she was pretty, but it slowly evolves into something deeper over time.

And...it makes Cynthia melt, I guess.

------

Cynthia's...from somewhere far, far away. She doesnt like talking about where she came from. Shes reviled there. Despised.

Reviled so much she became what everyone feared...She doesnt look bothered but she is.

Oh yeah and she has parent issues of course.

...she had ONE good friend from that place. Part of her anger is bc of him. She failed to protect him, or something. Or maybe hates the fact that she can never see him again. Never go home. Hates that she cant protect him anymore..? I just know that shes filled with such tragedy that she snapped.

-------

As time passes, she changes her attitude regarding the kids.

Shes....less harsh. But she doesnt hold back.

"If you cant handle me, you wont survive out there.

Be ready to lose..." she says with a glower.

"Youll be seeing their poses before you can do your own."

Odessa is shaking her head and rolling her eyes at her.

So Cynthia sighs.

"But youll win. Eventually. After much hard work. And youll lose less and less.

You have to be ready to lose before you start winning.

Be used to the sting of defeat before tasting victory. It makes it all the more sweet."

In a roundabout way, shes inspiring those kids -- to BEAT HER ASS!

Hah, shes become a figure one must defeat. A common enemy, just like the titular wicked witch.

When the kids eventually catch up to her, and defeat her, she nods her head in respect.

Odessa claps, "Youve defeated the wicked witch! Congratulations!"

"Go far, squirts."

--------

If 3 inspires people to believe in themselves, Cynthia inspires kids to win through SPITE. They dont approve and dislike her bc of it. (One of the few people 3 holds an active dislike for...)

BTW. I NAMED HER CYNTHIA BC THE DPP OST WAS PLAYING IN THE BG WHILE I DESIGNED HER. Its a WILD coincidence that Elphaba is played by someone named Cynthia as well. Jesus christ

[tk-fandom-stuff]

Hi guys it's a Christmas miracle that I actually managed to finish a fic 😝

Anyway enjoy this no crash and no jimjam fic!! If u tag this as ship I'll get u

If you want to read it on ao3 its right here

Fic under the cut!!

Curly stared at the scene in front of him, cursing the fact that his responsibility as captain means he has to deal with stuff like this. Daisuke, with a look on his face somewhere between sheepishness and a pout, is stuck in the emergency foam. With Swansea glaring at the kid like he's the cause of all his problems, unfair, but the kid was trouble sometimes. They've only been on the ship for close to 5 months and there's already been several incidents like this, usually with Daisuke as the unintentional culprit.

Curly can't ever bring himself to be mad at the kid though, he's a good kid and he only wants to help out, he just needs to listen a little better. “Well. I see the issue here.” He says. Swansea's glower is turned on him. “The kid was brought on just to make me suffer!” He snapped, “Intern my ass.” He grouses. Curly sighs, waving Swansea off, “Go, I'll deal with this, I'm the only one with access to the axe case anyway.” He ignores the man's muttering as he storms out of the room, the door closing behind him.

Turning around to face Daisuke, he raises an eyebrow. “How many times has he warned you not to mess with the vent now?” The kid pouts, “I was just trying to help! How was I supposed to know it would trigger the emergency foam?” He wiggles a bit while he's talking, trying to free his hands from the foam. He gets one out and starts slowly digging out the other hand, which is quite a ways deeper in the foam than the other one was. Curly clears his throat, and when Daisuke looks up at him, gives him a stern look.

“You should know better than to mess with the vent, it's collapsed inside since before this voyage and you've been told that it's too dangerous for even Swansea to try and fix.” He raised an eyebrow. “You've only worked on this ship for 5 months, you're nowhere near qualified enough to fix the vent, it could kill you if you try, at the least it would hurt you pretty bad.” As he's speaking, Daisuke droops, ashamed and embarrassed. He sighs, ruffling the kids' hair. “I'm not mad at you, kid, I don't want you to get hurt and Swansea doesn't either. It's why he's so hard on you.” He gives him a reassuring smile, which Daisuke hesitantly returns.

Curly stepped away to get the axe out of its case, pulling out the code scanner to make sure he puts in the right code. When he grabs the axe and starts walking back, he sighs as he sees Daisuke's nervous look. “Can't you just use your hands and pull me out? I got my hand out on my own” He says with an uneasy grin. Curly leans the axe nearby, resigning himself to calming the kid down. “It's too thick for me to pull you out of it, the only reason you could get your hand out was because it wasn't deep in the foam. And,” He raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn't be in this situation if you had just listened to Swansea.” He shrugged.

Daisuke still looked hesitant, and Curly struggled to think of something to help the kid calm down. The last thing he wanted was him freaking out and getting hit with the axe on accident. He thinks back to earlier in the week during game night, after losing at sorry for the third time in a row Anya had started to tickle him to distract him from the game. The tickle fight that happened could have gone down in history. It would calm him down, and Daisuke never seems to mind it. Plus, maybe it would finally stick that he needs to be more careful and listen to what he's told.

He raises a hand and starts poking at Daisuke's side, grinning at the immediate giggles it elicited. It was always hard not to smile when Daisuke laughed, he's so bright and energetic that his joy and laughter are contagious. “Waihahait!” He squealed and covered his face with his free hand as Curly moved to scribble at his belly. “Daisuke, I'm not even doing anything,” he laughs softly. “Liahahar!” He shrieked when Curly poked at his belly button.

Curly stopped to give Daisuke a moment to breathe before smirking at him. “Is that any way to talk to your captain?” Daisukes eyes go wide. “Waihahait! I dihihidn't mehehean it! Dohohohn’t!” He pleaded as Curly reached for his free hand. He halfheartedly tries to squirm away, but the foam might as well have been concrete with how tough it was to move through it.

Curly, pausing as he gets a slightly evil idea, hums to himself. “don't what?” He asks, hiding a grin. Daisuke walks right into his trap, “tihihickle mehehe!” He giggles out. Daisuke freezes, eyes wide, as he realizes that he just fell for the oldest trick in the book, and one that he himself uses often. His nervous anticipatory smile grows as he stares at the silently grinning captain.

Curly lightly drags his nails around his palm and down his arm, listening to Daisuke's panicked laughter fluctuate as he goes back and forth. “Awww does it tickle, Daiske?” He can't help but tease. He's met with squeaky giggles as he draws closer to his palm.

Curly waited, letting the anticipation build until Daisuke started to get fidgety. Then he strikes, spidering down his arm and scratching at the palm of his hand. Daisuke's giggles get wilder as he unsuccessfully instinctively tries to pull his hand away.

After a moment, he lets go of Daisuke's hand, giving him a moment to breathe. “Alright kid, let's get you out of that foam.” Curly said, picking up the axe from its resting spot. Daisuke nods, still giggling slightly, waiting for Curly to chop through the thick foam before shaking out his body from being trapped in the foam for a while.

When free, he rubs at his palm, chasing away residual tingles. He seems to remember what got his stuck in the foam in the first place, and his head droops, expecting a reprimand. Curly sighs softly, pulling Daisuke into a side hug and ruffling his hair. “Like I said, nobody's truly mad at you, just worried because you could have gotten hurt or worse. Just don't do it again and you'll be fine.” He grins at him, and Daisuke smiles back.

“And you should cheer up, don't think I won't go for round two. Now, go help Swansea, I'm sure he needs your help right now. ” He says, poking Daisuke in the side a couple of times. Daisuke squeaks and moves away a bit. “Okahahahay! Message received!” He laughed out, walking towards the door. He pauses at the entrance for a moment. “Thanks Curly.” He says with an embarrassed flush, before scampering out of the room. Curly watches him go with a fond smile, turning around to get rid of the rest of the foam.

[simplyvyn]

𝑹 𝑼 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬 ?

All Blade ever wants to say to you is " R u mine?".. Are you mine for tomorrow? Are you mine for tonight? Or are you mine mine?

Blade x gn! Reader | wc: 1.1k

Warnings: ooc blade, headcanons w drabble, reader is not apart of the stellaron hunters

Okay. Lets start with, what kind of thing are you two exactly? You two arent practically friends nor enemies. Its like you two are more than just comfort buddies. You two vent to each other but with more.. feelings and touch.

Sometimes when its you (mostly you) who vents to Blade about stuff, Lets say.. you're in his lap. Or hes actually hugging you. Or hes cuddling with you in bed to comfort you. Or he would be the one to wipe your tears away.

"Its so tiring!" Blade was holding your face gently with his own rough hands with bandaged scars, wiping your tears. "Shhh. I'll take care of all of them for you, dear." Well that's for.. later. Right now his number one priority in the whole wide world is to.. hug you. For comfort! Definitely! And it worked. You hugged that man back. "Thanks. Blade." You we're still sniffling a bit. Catching your breath.

Or when its Blade and its like.. the mara feeling is there but not out yet (please get what i mean here..) You would be the one to comfort him! Its of course still sitting on his lap, or cuddling or hugging. (Blade prefers the cuddling, by the way!)

"Take a breath, Blade." And he copied what you did, slowly inhaling, slowly exhaling. Great. You two were just sitting at the couch and you decided to help him with meditate. Is it rude to say that Blade expected something more? Its fine. You read him like a book! With a sigh, you opened your arms to let him cuddle you as he rests his head at the crook of your neck. "Really? You find this way more relaxing?" A pinch went to your waist. "I was just kidding! Dont involve me with your mara shizams!"

But other than being each others comfort, you guys just live with each others presence. Let's say, going out to eat, watching beautiful sceneries or sometimes you two can go simple by holding each other and rest. Or simply watching movies together while you two cook. Never let Blade cook meat or chicken.

Honestly, with all this both you question each others feelings. You question your feelings about him, and Blade questions his feelings about you. Or sometimes you two get curious, if you two feel the same and what would happen if eventually you two do. Or what if you two don't?

Between you and Blade, Blade is mostly the one two overthink the feelings. You just cherish the time you can get being with him. Who knows if he is willing to do something risky and try to take another step with you. Plus, you honestly forget your feelings and all you can feel was comfort and safety when your with Blade. Shocking, right? Almost everyone wouldn't feel that way for the one and only Blade.

Let's talk about Blade's feelings this time. Sometimes when you don't need comfort or let's say, you don't need Blade yet, He would be somewhere far but close. Watching over you, keeping his distance. He's doing this for two reasons. One; to check up on you if you're safe. Two; because he misses you.

Sometimes when you two cuddle eachother, and you slept first, he would admire you for a few seconds. 1, 2, 3, and a slight pink tint goes up to his cheeks. While, he's admiring you, he wouldn't even notice he's slowly pulling you closer to him, pulling you and pushing you closer to his body. Only then, he would have his rest.

At the first stages of you two's friendship, and you cuddle, you would expect he already left. Silently. But now, when he lets himself be vulnerable with you. He waits by your side. Waiting for you to wake up. Secretly hoping when you do, he'd get to spend time with you more.

I mean, you two have been together for a long time, which gives Blade a confusing feeling. At first, he thinks your presence would probably be a heal, at this point. Like when he's with you, he feels alot less.. mara, you know.

Sometimes when he's with you, he would be staring admirably at you. Sometimes you would notice, and it makes you all shy and try to cover your face. Blade, obviously noticed it. But not you noticing that he was looking. He himself didn't even notice him looking at you.

Even when with the other Stellaron Hunters, they get quite concerned about Blade's feelings with you.

"Hey Blade, I noticed you've been looking quite distracted lately. Want a soda?" Silver Wolf asks with Blade declining. "He's distracted because of that little lover he has from the Luofu. I guess i can understand him. But she can get in the way of Elio's script." Kafka noted. "I only go to them when we're not on script." Blade told Kafka. "Dear, we never run out of script. Elio just never tells us."

"Then maybe having that little lover with Blade is apart of the script." Silver Wolf answered.

Sometimes you two can get overboard. Or maybe you. Sometimes, you'd flirt with Blade jokingly and he'd take if seriously.

Or sometimes you two initiate physical contact to much. I mean cuddling? Basking in each others presence? Your hands around his neck? His hands around your waist? Sometimes you'd even kiss his cheek?!

You guys had, of course, awkward moments where you two almost did things couples did. For example..

"Blade..?" He was holding two of your hands, each one on the sides of your head, completely pinned. You had asked out of the ordinary, what Blade thinks of you. He took a long time thinking about it, and you were just impatient for an answer. He didn't even notice what he's doing to you right now. A few seconds, and he did, before he completely wooshed away, you definitely noticed a blush.

Did i mention that you are actually the one who always will be the one to bandage the scars he has all over him? Its all you, aiding all thats scars little or big. But Blade took a notice how when he was the one creating scars, it was rough. When you were healing them, it was gentle. It kind of amazed Blade.

But alas, the two of you are not yet ready to go to the next level are you? Neither is Blade. Maybe his heart is just too sensitive to fill with love again. And your heart is just too small to give everything to Blade as well. So let's keep it at this level, okay?

Taglist: @hitomisuzuya

A/n: mb guys, this took long, had to make sure it aint too short😓😓

[whorergal]

SHE'S MINE (PART THREE)

summary: you and ethan form a plan but in order for it to work, you need to make it look believable…

warnings: scream vi spoilers, language (cussing), blood, gore. follows the plot loosely. happy ending, i promise.

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader

authors note: here's the final part! i just wanted to say thank you for all the likes and reblogs!! it's honestly so sweet of everyone and it means a lot to me! i have a bunch of ideas for ethan so look out for more imagines and hopefully a masterlist for easier navigation (i'm still new to this lol) :-) i love u all so much

——————————————————————————————

To say that you were surprised when finding out about Ethan and his relation to Richie Kirsch would be an understatement. He had been someone that you had hated and even vented to Ethan about when you two first met. It just seemed very ironic. Although Ethan did love his brother, he knew the things he did weren't right once he realized how much shit he put you through.

The late night calls because of your nightmares, the flashbacks you would get whenever someone touched you too roughly, having to avoid the scars on your body because it brought you back to Woodsboro; it opened his eyes.

You weren't entirely shocked to find out Quinn was the other Ghostface that attacked you. She always had some unsaid vendetta against you and you realized now it was just because of your history. What did shock you was to find out Detective Bailey was the mastermind behind it all—not only that, but he was also Ethan and Quinn's father.

He showed up the moment you and Ethan met your friends outside their apartment. Mindy had stolen you from Ethan, leaving him alone with Chad, who was asking him questions to confirm his whereabouts. Luckily, you made sure to practice what to say with him on the train ride there. It seemed your excuses sufficed because Chad nodded, apologizing for thinking the worst.

While on your trip to the run-down theater, Chad had taken Mindy, thanking you for lifting her mood (you three had always been close since you were kids). You walked in the back alongside Ethan, holding his hand to calm your nerves which ended up in you receiving a look from Bailey. You don't think he knew you noticed but ever since you found out about him, you had been unintentionally tense around him.

The memorabilia that had been collected scared the hell out of you. It increased your worries despite knowing everything would end up being okay.

Tara seemed to notice how your breathing began to increase and stepped closer to you. "Hey, you okay?"

You looked at her, faking a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just going to get some air."

The group all watched you leave. Chad was going to follow after you but Tara stopped him when they saw that Ethan had already been on your trail. She smirked at him.

"You owe me five bucks," Tara informed him.

"Shut up," Chad replied, shaking his head.

No one found you two suspicious. If anything, your sudden relationship seemed to throw them off your tracks.

Everyone left the theater, finding you two on the steps, you tiredly laying in his arms. Tara smiled at you two, gesturing for you to follow. When you got up, Mindy reclaimed you as her own again, pulling you away from Ethan as she needed your comfort. You talked with her the whole walk to fill her mind with distractions.

They all needed somewhere to recoup and to come up with a reliable plan. You offered your apartment, knowing theirs was most likely still a crime scene. Yours hadn't been messed up in the sense that there was no broken doors and bloody messes all over the floor. Mindy actually agreed, saying she wanted to sit in Anika's room alone for a little bit.

"Don't mind the mess," you joked once entering. Your books were scattered about the place. "And the…blood," you muttered when you saw some it trailing where you had dragged yourself across the kitchen.

None of them cared much, getting right into what to do next. You ended up leaving to your room because your stitches were hurting like hell and you didn't want to cause any alarm to them about it.

You sat there, alone for a few minutes until you heard a quiet knock on the door. Honestly, you were expecting Tara, or maybe Chad because he kept eyeing you frequently, but Ethan peeked his head inside and you sighed of relief. He gave you his awkward smile and entered slowly, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Hey, are you feeling okay?" he asked, walking over to take a seat on your bed beside you.

You nodded, holding back a wince at the movement he caused which made you flex your muscles. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Nothing I'm not used to."

"Your stitches," he realized aloud, leaning closer. "Shit, I forgot. Do they hurt?"

"Sort of," you responded, gripping your stomach as if it would make the pain go away.

"Is there anything I can do?" He looked at you softly, as if his eye contact could harm you.

You forced a smile. "Distract me, please."

"Well, I, uh," he stuttered. "I came up with a plan."

"A plan?" You questioned, confused.

"Yeah. I talked to my dad while at the theater and I found out the last steps he and Quinn will be taking," Ethan informed you which wasn't exactly the distraction you wanted but nevertheless, it was useful. "He doesn't know about you, or about us so I have him convinced that the reason I saved you was because I wanted to kill you myself."

You widened your eyes. "Oh."

"Obviously, I'm not going to—"

"I know, E."

He nodded before continuing. "Quinn's going to get Gale next. Then she'll be heading for us. I'm not too sure what she wants to do but I know it'll involve someone in the group in order to keep them all from going to the theater. My guess will be Mindy. When that happens, she'll go for you next so you have to stick with me."

"Go for me next?" you repeated for more clarification.

"I told my dad that I wanted you there for act three. Quinn will knock you out, take you to the theater, dress you up in a robe and frame you as a Ghostface." He paused, scanning your expressions. It wasn't a bad idea, actually, other than the fact that you'll be framed as a psychotic murderer.

"Okay, so I just have to pretend that I don't know?" you questioned, wanting to make sure.

"Yes, exactly," he answered. "They're under the impression that I'm going to kill you so they'll tell Sam and Tara you're the Ghostface to throw them off and when the reveals happen, you'll be given to me."

You nod slowly, taking a second to let all the information sink in before worrying aloud. "What if they don't? What if Quinn ends up hurting me again?"

"I won't let anything happen to you," he declared, grabbing your face in his hands. "She knows better now."

Your eyes softened as you nod again for the last time. Then you fell forward into his arms, just wanting to be held. He did as told, being careful with your injury, and just played with your hair which made you smile.

"You know, when I said distraction, that wasn't really what I meant," you mumbled into his chest.

He furrowed his brows. "What did you—" then he stopped himself when he realized. "Oh."

You laughed until it turned into a wince. He pulled you apart from him to make sure you were okay. You nodded silently, diving right back into his arms again. It gave you comfort.

You and Ethan stayed close to each other the entire time you were with the group. He didn't want you to be without him, afraid losing you for one second would mean he would lose you forever. His hand was interlocked with yours or settled on top of your thigh—whatever physical touch he could get from you. You even ended up falling asleep on his shoulder inside the van with Kirby, Chad and Mindy.

Then when you guys detected the call was coming from Gale's apartment, kudos to Quinn, that was where you all headed to next. It was where you learned that Gale had actually survived her fatal attack which you wanted to snicker at because Quinn failed again but you held it back to not look weird.

Sam had created a plan with Kirby and Bailey to head to the theater in order to lure Ghostface and lock him in. Apparently that was Bailey's idea which made sense seeing as he was one of the Ghostface's. So you all headed to the train station in order to get a lift to the rundown area.

Someone had ended up shoving you away from the group, elbowing you right in the stomach. You had to pause, grunting in pain until you looked up and couldn't find anyone. You forced yourself to suck up the pain and roughly shove everyone out of your way which helped you catch sight of Ethan's worried expression, searching the crowd presumably for you.

He found you almost immediately, adjusting his backpack and running straight to you.

"I'm sorry," he apologized when he got to you.

"It wasn't your fault," you reassured him.

You two finally reached the train right when it began to ride away from you. You groaned, knowing everyone had caught it together but then you saw Mindy ahead, doing the same thing as you.

"Mindy!" you hollered, causing her to turn and let out a sigh of relief to find out she wasn't alone.

"Thank god," she muttered. But then she saw Ethan and pulled you away from him protectively. "Get your Ghostface ass away from us, Ghostface."

Ethan gave her an offended look, watching as she created a safe distance from him. He kept looking at you two, making sure you were okay but Mindy would gesture for him to stop with arm movements. It caused him to roll his eyes.

When you entered the next train, you tried to convince Mindy to stick close to him in order to eliminate one of you from being attacked. She didn't listen but knew better than to force you to stay with her so she told you to "go to your boyfriend". You scoffed playfully at her childish behavior, finding her stubbornness amusing.

You had to squeeze through people to reach where he stood in the middle. When he saw you, his expression softened as he went forward to help you. Thankfully, there was a seat open right by where he stood so you sat there, mindlessly staring around as the train shook you.

The lights kept flickering and it gave you immense amount of anxiety. Ethan's eyes seemed to be fixed on Mindy, as if making sure she was okay as well. It must have meant Quinn was nearby seeing as she was targeting Mindy next.

Once the train finally came to a stop, Ethan turned to you and helped you up since your wounds were hurting more than usual. You instantly looked for Mindy but couldn't find her, sending you into a panic. You let go of Ethan, pushing people out of the way until you saw her lumped figure against the back of the train, a large stab wound in her gut.

Ethan and you both let out a jumble of curses while helping her up, leading her out of the train while calling for help.

You three were escorted to the nearest hospital where she went under immediate surgery and you even got yourself checked. Your stitches had reopened—which explained why they hurt so much—so they sewed them back together and even wrapped it up which made it feel a lot more secure.

The doctor released you, letting you return to where Mindy's room was. When you reached her floor, it was strangely quiet. Ethan had left you earlier, saying he needed to find Quinn, which you didn't pay much mind to as you assumed it was so he didn't look suspicious.

You scrolled through your phone, having not received any texts from Tara or the rest of the group that wasn't with you which made you nervous. They were probably busy setting up the theater but you couldn't help but assume the worst. In the midst of your distraction, you found yourself stepping into an unknown liquid which caused you to look from your phone to the floor.

It was blood.

Your mind immediately went to Mindy, but before you were able to worry about her, you were smacked across the head which sent you falling to the hard floor. Your vision started to become black when you swore you heard Ethan's voice.

"Ssh. It's okay, I got you."

- -

You awoke by the sound of excessive footsteps happening all around you. The bright lighting in the room caused your head to throb, making you squint your eyes until you felt well enough to open them all the way. You immediately recognized the room and knew you were inside the theater. You had no idea where Ethan was or what the hell was going on but you were positive that answer would come soon.

Slowly, you started to get up from your position, propping yourself up on your elbows. You looked around but your eyes couldn't help focusing on the black robe covering your entire body. Even though Ethan had informed you about this beforehand, you still felt yourself starting to panic.

What if he changed his mind? What if this was the plan all along; make you think he was on your side just to easily lure you into this trap. No, no, Ethan wouldn't do that.

"Look who's awake," the familiar voice that belonged to Detective Bailey spoke.

You searched around the room until his figure came into view, wearing an evil smirk. "What the hell is going on?"

"You don't get it, do you?" Actually you did. "You know the plan. You know why we're here; to stop Ghostface. It was pretty easy to convince Sam that Kirby was mentally unfit and had taken the mantle in her own hands for the best friend she lost…but she couldn't do it alone. That's where you come in."

"What are you talking about?" Your voice was groggy. Your mind was still fuzzy from the hit you received so his voice didn't really sound as close as it was to you. "Are you saying that Kirby's Ghostface?"

"Well, to Sam and Tara she'll be," he told you. Then he crouched to reach your level. "And you'll be to."

"What?"

"Kirby needed someone to do the dirty work for her while she couldn't." He shrugged, his voice becoming more and more angered as he continued talking. "Don't worry, you won't be the only one. My own accomplices will take the fall with you until the time is right. But we have to fuck with Sam somehow. We have to make her feel betrayal to throw us off her radar for the best reveal. Make her feel what she's made us feel for the past year."

"You're Ghostface?" you questioned. Your fogged up mind was really helping you play the part of confused.

He nodded. "And so are you."

You looked at him in disgust. "What the fuck?"

"It has to be this way, Y/N," he tutted in sarcastic sadness. It pissed you off. "You were the easiest pawn in this game. Your betrayal will weaken them the most. It's the perfect fucking idea!"

"Fuck you!" you yelled, kicking him straight in the face.

You were able to throw him back. Your uneasy state didn't help you much in your favor because as you lifted yourself up, your knees gave out. The mix of pain coming from your wounds plus your throbbing head made you nauseous that you didn't even completely register the feeling of Bailey gripping you by the hair until the cold touch of his gun was placed against your temple.

Unable to move in general, you froze.

"Unless you want your brains splattered across this wall, I'd suggest you follow my orders," he threatened. You winced at the rough shake he gave your head in order to emphasize his words. You immediately surrendered to which he noticed and nodded at. "Good."

He let go of your hair forcefully, it caused you to fall forward, catching yourself. You heard shuffling coming from behind you but when you turned to look, his back was the only thing you could make out. "What are you doing?"

"You need this to complete your costume," he responded, walking back over to you. He was enthusiastically holding a mask in the air. "This is Mickey Altieri's mask. I thought he would fit you well, you know, once I paint you to be this psycho who wanted to kill your friends for fun."

You glared at him. "They'll never believe you."

"Oh, I think they just might." He nodded, forcing the mask over your face which you tried to fight against. Then, there were gunshots heard which made you flinch and Bailey chuckle. "It's showtime."

He forced you on your feet by your robe, holding you tightly in his grip as he dragged you out of the room. You had no strength so he was basically holding your entire weight as you struggled to find balance. With your lack of stability, there wasn't much you could do and also because you felt his gun poking your back as if to keep you in your place.

"Get away from the girls!" Bailey announced his presence, pulling you along with him like a rag doll. "It's over, Kirby! I got you and your partner!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Kirby questioned in utter disbelief and you didn't blame her.

"Cut the bullshit!" Bailey hollered. "I saw this one helping you out to stage your attack!"

"What?!" Kirby's voice rose an octave.

"Who is this, Kirby? Huh?" he asked, referring to you as he shook you in his grip.

"I have no idea, okay?! It's not me!"

"Well, I'll just have to see for myself—" he was muttering to himself, using the hand that held his gun to rip the mask off your face. "Oh my god…"

"Y/N?" Sam looked at you in betrayal.

"What the fuck," Tara whispered, backing away from you.

"Stop! It's not me!" you yelled, squirming but he readjusted his grip. "It's not Kirby either! He's lying!"

"Y/N Y/L/N?" Bailey questioned. "How could you? Where the hell are the others?!"

"You're insane!" you yelled at him. You redirected your attention to them, finding it hard to breathe. "I'm not Ghostface! He is! He knocked me out and forced me into this costume! Please, you have to believe me!"

"Did you and Y/N kill Quinn?" Bailey asked in anger, his question targeted at Kirby. "Did you two kill my daughter?!" He shook you, looking at you when he finished his question.

"Jesus Christ!" Kirby let out.

"We didn't do anything!" you answered, feeling your voice beginning to give out. "You know that, you asshole!"

"Whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him! Y/N and I are innocent!" Kirby defended you both. "He's probably Ghostface."

"Why would he kill his own daughter?" Sam couldn't help but question, glancing back and forth between you and Kirby.

"Because he's a psycho!" you answered loudly.

"It doesn't make any sense—"

Kirby's voice overpowered Tara's concern as you saw her eyes go wide and gun straighten. "Behind you!"

You heard loud footsteps rushing toward you from behind but everything went silent the moment Bailey shot his gun, landing two bullets in Kirby's stomach. She fell to the ground, causing you to gasp. You let out another shriek when you felt a pair of strong arms grab you from behind, restricting you from movement as they dragged you along with them to stand beside Bailey.

It was Ethan.

"Great job," Bailey complimented. "Both of you."

"What the fuck?" Sam breathed out in confusion until she saw your frightened figure still being held. You saw guilt flash across her face for not trusting you.

"Let her go!" Tara screamed, heading for you but Sam had to hold her back.

It caused Bailey to chuckle. "Oh, you should've seen the look on your faces. To think your only friend would betray you but she's actually innocent; just ended up being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Fuck you!" You let out.

Ethan covered your mouth with his gloved hand and you instinctively relaxed in his grip but forced yourself to fight him in order to make it look believable. You assumed he wanted to make sure your words wouldn't end up pissing Bailey off so he didn't do anything rash to you.

You were fading in and out of reality. You weren't paying attention until Bailey nudged Ethan to take off his mask.

He pulled it off with a smile on his face.

You looked up from where he had you, your mouth dropping into a fake gasp. "E-Ethan?"

"Hi, baby," he whispered in your ear. "Mindy was right. It was easy to juke the roommate lottery. I mean, all I had to do to meet you guys was to room with a conceited, condescending asshole, literally named Chad. Fuck, it felt good to kill him!" His tone made you flinch; he sounded really insane. Then he rose his mask in the air. "This was your grandmother's Sam; Nancy Loomis. Really runs in the fucking family, doesn't it? And speaking of family…my names not Ethan Landry. Isn't it, dad?"

Tara looked lost. "Dad?"

"Had to keep it secret. I mean, I had to get close to you guys somehow," Ethan stated, leaning his cheek to be against yours. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek which would've made you blush in any other circumstance. "Had to have Y/N for myself."

"You're psychotic," you told him.

Catching him off guard, you managed to shove his arms away from you. Tara and Sam were prepared to pull you away but he gathered you rather easily as you didn't make it much of a battle to. You just needed to look like you weren't comfortable with being in this position.

What startled you was the feeling of his blade being placed against your throat. "Not so fast," he whispered.

You gulped. Now you were really afraid.

"Let her go, you asshole!" Tara shouted.

Ethan pulled the knife away and rose it at her which absentmindedly made her flinch. "Oh, come on. Y/N doesn't mind this. Don't you, baby?"

"Fuck you," you breathed out.

"So vulgar that mouth of yours." His attention was purely on you as his knife was placed back against your throat.

Tara watched in disbelief, shaking her head.

"Ethan was the one who came up with this plan," Bailey said proudly, squeezing his son's shoulder. "He knew how easy it would be to make Y/N fall for him. It kept him from looking suspicious because nobody suspects the caring boyfriend."

They both began to chuckle together. You rolled your eyes at them. It caused Ethan to dig the knife deeper into your skin, on the verge of slicing you.

"Wait," Sam interrupted them. "If it's you two, then that just leaves…"

While they all gawked in betrayal at Quinn's reveal, Ethan leaned his lips close to your hair to cover his words. "You okay?"

You glanced at him and you could see the apologetic look in his eyes for the position he had you in. You nodded very slightly before trying to squirm out of his grip again.

"Hey, roomies. You didn't see that one coming, did you?"

"Yeah, because you died!"

"Kind of didn't." Quinn tilted her head. "I had to get off the suspect list. Stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy in the train, take Y/N because Ethan couldn't do it himself!"

Ethan rolled his eyes.

"It's funny, isn't it," Quinn continued. "Poor Y/N. She was just trying to help her friends which only led her straight into the trap. Come on, how fucking stupid can you be?!"

"Let her go," Sam stated sternly. "She has nothing to do with this!"

"She has everything to do with this!" Quinn yelled back, walking over to where Ethan still held you. She traced the tip of her knife along your stomach which caused you to shiver as she pressed into your stitches. "She's a killer, just like you, Sam. That's why it'll be easy to frame you both."

"What?" Tara questioned.

"Oh." Quinn jumped from her spot. "You didn't really think we'd take the blame for it. It'll all fall onto Sam, the villain of Woodsboro. She couldn't get enough so she just had to go on another killing spree and she couldn't do it all alone! She needed someone to help her."

"Y/N's not a killer," Sam stated matter-of-factly, watching in disbelief. "Neither am I. We're not killers."

"Oh, shut up!" Quinn snapped.

Bailey walked forward, pulling out a mask from his jacket and raising it for her to see. "You're a killer just like your father."

"No, I'm not!" Sam yelled.

"Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother!"

Tara furrowed her brows. "You said your brother died in a car accident?"

"No, no, no, you sweet dumb thing," Ethan jumped into the conversation. "He died in Woodsboro at the hands of your bitch sister with the help of Y/N, here."

Sam's face fell in realization. "You're Richie's family."

"Now she's finally getting it." Ethan smirked.

He gripped your robe, tugging you carelessly to follow him as he and Quinn ventured around the seats in order to get behind Sam and Tara, significantly trapping them. It caused the two to tense and you as well. You weren't sure what was going to happen next.

"Y/N didn't kill him," Sam declared in annoyance. "I'm the one who slit his throat; I'm the one who watched him bleed to death as he cried like a fucking baby."

"Shut your whore fucking mouth!" Quinn lashed out, walking forward to push Sam, catching her off guard.

"Hands off, Quinn!" Bailey demanded loudly which seemed to set his psychotic daughter in place. "Before we get into that, we have something else that needs to be done first." It seemed all their attention fell on you. "Ethan, why don't you go take care of Y/N. Plant her body just where we discussed."

"No!" Tara yelled, attempting to head toward you but was stopped by Quinn, who stepped in front of her with her knife.

Sam pushed Quinn, causing an uproar as they tried to fight her but Bailey put their actions to a pause by facing the gun to their faces. They both shuddered and stopped fighting, having to watch you be dragged away.

"Go, Ethan," Bailey instructed.

"No, no, no," you heard Tara cry out until he pushed you inside the room and the door was shut, silencing all sound.

"God," Ethan groaned, dropping the act, even dropping his knife in the process as he rushed towards you, grabbing your face in his hands as he checked for any injuries. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay? They didn't touch you, right? I didn't mean anything I said; I promise. I hate this so much—"

"Ethan," you interrupted his rambling. "Hey, it's okay. I'm fine, I promise. I've been through worse."

Not wasting another second, he leaned down to pull you into a passionate kiss. Several emotions were coursing through you but once feeling his lips on yours, you felt yourself relax as if you two weren't on the verge of being potentially murdered by his fucked up family.

He couldn't pull away, afraid if he did, he would lose you so you had to be the one to do it—even if it hurt you to. "What's the next step?" you asked him.

"Faking your death," he told you casually. It almost made you want to laugh. "They're too indulged with Sam and Tara to pay attention to us. Besides, they can't hear much but I have to make this look quick."

You nodded, listening as he was about to get into what he wanted you to do next but the sound of footsteps caused you both to go rigid. When you looked past his shoulder, you felt relieved when you saw Kirby, miraculously still standing despite the amount of injuries she had endured, with her gun aimed at Ethan.

"Let her go," she instructed him.

"Kirby, wait," you interrupted, pushing him behind you so now her gun was facing you. "He's innocent."

"What? But I heard him. He killed Chad—"

"I didn't. I didn't hit any major arteries," Ethan defended himself.

"What are you talking about?" Kirby questioned.

"Ethan was Ghostface but he had to be in order to keep me safe so I offered to help him kill Bailey and Quinn for saving my life," you explained very vaguely, your words slurring together. "Please, you have to believe me. He would've done something to me by now if he wasn't."

Kirby took a second to process your words before she began to slowly drop her aim. "Okay. Okay, I believe you."

"Good," you thanked her, turning to Ethan. "What's next?"

"Down the hallway will lead you into the room where the back entrance is located. The plan for them is to make Sam understand what she's done before attempting to kill them both," he told you and Kirby, who had approached you two to watch your backs for any unwanted guests who would pop out. "Our backs will be facing you two and which gives you both the opportunity to get either of them because they won't see you coming."

"Okay." You nodded. "You got that, Kirby?"

"One step ahead of you," she responded.

"And this is for you." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a large hunting knife. "For your protection."

You chuckled breathlessly, taking it from him as you looked up from the knife to him. "We got it from here," you assured him. "Go before they find you suspicious."

Ethan nodded, preparing to leave until he paused, leaning down to pull you back in for another kiss. You sighed into his lips, wanting nothing but to kiss him all day and not have to face the reality that lied outside the room.

"Wrap it up, lovebirds," Kirby said in impatience.

Ethan pulled away, his cheeks flushed red. "Be safe," he demanded more than said.

"You too," you told him, smiling.

He squeezed your hand, as if reassuring you, before he let you go and headed towards the door. He grabbed his knife, taking a second before finally leaving the room.

"Let's go, kid," Kirby demanded, already walking away which gave you no choice but to follow.

She took lead as she was the one with the gun, securing the place before gesturing for you to follow.

While stopped at a corner, her peeking past the wall to make sure it was clear, you couldn't help but question aloud to distract you from your thoughts. "How are you still alive?"

Kirby turned and gave you a look, as if saying 'right now really isn't the time'. You sucked in a breath and nodded, letting her go back to what she was doing.

When you both made it to the room Ethan was talking about, you found Chad propped up against a counter. He looked dazed, on the verge of passing out—or dying. You immediately ran to him, crouching to his level.

"Chad, hey? Can you hear me?" you asked stupidly, grabbing his face.

"…Y-Y/N?" His voice was quiet and weak.

"Yeah, it's me," you answered. "I need you to hold on just a little bit longer, okay? It's almost over with."

"I'm trying," he hissed through his teeth.

"Y/N, when should we make our move?" Kirby asked, making you look to see her peering through the window.

You rubbed Chad's arm reassuringly before getting up to look through the other one right beside her. You could see a video of Richie when he was younger playing on the projector, causing you to scoff.

Kirby glanced at you and back at the scene. "That's the fucker who got you guys last year, isn't it?"

You nodded, feeling angry. All the pent up emotions you forced yourself to swallow over the past year were resurfacing. "Let's get them now."

She nodded, opening the door very quietly. You put your finger to your lips, gesturing for her to stay silent as you crawled forward to the memorabilia. Kirby whispered a bundle of words but you didn't listen as you discreetly reached up at one of the cases, opening it and stealing the knife that was being displayed.

You had no idea who it belonged to previously but you needed to get it just in case Tara or Sam needed one.

When you crawled back to Kirby, she had a surprised mixed with disbelief look on her face. "What the hell?"

"I had to get one for Sam and Tara," you responded.

"Just get behind me," she instructed, which you followed because she was someone you didn't want to piss off.

Kirby took a moment of contemplation, preparing herself before she leaped out, shooting perfectly at Bailey. She had two shots in his stomach but was stopped from continuing as Quinn tackled her to the floor.

You jumped out from your spot, stabbing her straight in the back and throwing her off Kirby.

"Y/N?" Tara questioned, running toward you.

You gasped in surprise when you felt her body being thrown on you, her arms wrapping around your waist. You had pry her arms off of you. "Here, give this to Sam," you said, handing her the knife. "Kill that motherfucker."

"I thought Ethan killed you," she said sadly, tears in her eyes.

Before you could respond, you fell forward into Tara's arms as Quinn stabbed you in the middle of your back. She pulled it out and was prepared to land another one until Ethan shoved her back to the ground, keeping her in place by shoving his knife straight into her chest. At this, Tara looked extremely confused, helping you gain your balance.

You glanced behind your shoulder to see what she was looking at and groaned as you straightened your posture to help yourself stand. "He's on our side," you let out before you pushed her toward Sam. "Just go help Sam—hurry! I'll take care of Quinn."

Tara nodded, making sure you were okay before running back to where Sam was struggling to keep Bailey down.

You turned to help Kirby up from the floor. She dusted herself off and grabbed her gun. "Thanks."

Then you two hovered over Quinn, who was gasping for air as Ethan twisted the knife, causing her to gasp. He pulled it out, blood flying to coat his face as she winced loudly.

Kirby rose her gun, aiming it at her forehead but you stopped her before she could pull the trigger. "Wait."

"What?" Kirby asked, confused.

You didn't answer, leaning down instead to hover above her face as she struggled to move, let alone speak. Blood was spewing out of her mouth as she tried to say something, probably an insult of some kind.

You straddled her waist, gripping her hair as you brought her face close to yours. "Ready to die just like your brother?"

Quinn's eyes widened but she wasn't able to do much as your knife sliced her throat, causing blood to run out. You stood up, returning back to your spot between Ethan and Kirby, watching as she took her last breath. Her eyes fell motionless, staring at the ceiling.

You turned your head to look at Ethan. "You okay?"

Ethan glanced at you, nodding. "Yeah. She was always a terrible sister, anyway."

His response made you smile. Kirby watched the two of you with a smile of her own. "You two did good."

"So did you," you complimented.

She ruffled your hair, earning a smile from you.

A gunshot caused you three to jump, turning around, prepared to attack but became aware that it was from Sam. Tara had the knife in her hand, covered in Bailey's blood as Sam was the cause of the bullet between his eyes.

When you approached them, Sam flinched at the sound of footsteps and rose the gun.

"Hey, it's just us!" Kirby hollered.

Sam nodded until she furrowed her brows, turning her aim at Ethan. He widened his eyes in fear, raising his hands.

"No, wait!" you shouted, jumping in front of him like you had done with Kirby previously. "He's with us."

"What?" Sam questioned.

"It's true," Kirby confirmed, taking a spot next to you in order to shield him as well. "He was the one who told us what to do in order to save you guys."

"But your dad and sister—"

"Are insane," Ethan finished her sentence. "I wanted nothing to do with this. The only reason I helped was because they threatened to kill Y/N," he explained to them, making you reach to hold his hand to comfort him. "I'm sorry for what I've caused and not being able to stop them before we got to this point. I'm really sorry."

"Sorry won't bring back the people we lost," Sam told him.

"I know." He nodded sadly.

"Sam." Tara brought her hand up to force her sister's arm down, making her lower her aim. "He helped us and he saved Y/N. He could've just let us die."

"We don't have time for this," Kirby groaned in annoyance, sticking her gun back into her holster. "You have to get to Chad. I'll call for help."

"Chad?" Tara questioned.

Kirby nodded, leading her into the room where he was situated. She left you, Sam and Ethan alone for any further conversation that needed to be made as she went to go help Tara and call the police.

Sam sighed, dropping the gun. "I can't forgive you, Ethan but I'm sure as time goes by, I can find a way to. You mean a lot to Y/N and she means a lot to me. So, if she's able to trust you and then I am too," she told him, giving a brief smile until she turned serious. "But if you do anything to hurt her, I won't hesitate to—"

"Got it," he interrupted, nodding sternly.

"Good," Sam responded. "I'm glad you two are safe."

"I'm glad you are too," you told her sadly, walking forward to give her hug. "Don't believe anything they said, Sam. You aren't like your father."

"I know, Y/N/N," she whispered, caressing your head.

You heard soft chatter coming from outside the theater room, catching your attention. "It must be the police."

"Let's go," Sam told you both.

You nodded, letting her walk first as you grabbed Ethan's hand in yours. Before you two continued, you paused, turning to face him with a sad expression. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Ethan smiled, genuinely smiled, looking down from where you held his hand back into your eyes. "I will be because I got you and I couldn't be more thankful."

You grinned. As long as I got you.

[n6ptunova]

concerts • matt sturniolo

a/n: first matt post!! idk how i feel abt this one but i’ll post another matt one soon hope y’all like ittt

summary: you and matt go to a dominic fike concert together.

warnings: nothing just a lil fluff? not proofread.

“guys guys guys!” you repeated, getting the triplets and madi’s attention.

“dominic fike is gonna be performing at camp flog gnaw, let’s go pleaseee,” you practically begged. dominic fike was one of your favourite artists and you knew the boys, especially matt, liked him too so there’s no way they’ll refuse.

“are you kidding? we have to go! when is it?” matt reciprocated your excitement.

“it’s this sunday, i know someone who can get us tickets on short notic-”

“oh, this sunday is the lil skies show we told you about.. a couple of our friends are going so we can’t cancel last minute sorry,” chris interrupted looking guilty that he let you down. you declined going to the lil skies show before since you don’t really listen to him.

“that’s okay, i’ll look for someone else to go with i guess,” you were kinda disappointed.

see, when you first befriended the triplets you instantly clicked with nick and chris, but matt was a little harder to crack…or maybe your crush on him made it difficult to say a word. but when the topic of music and dominic fike was brought up, that was the first time you two really bonded and it became your little thing.

one time you had a particularly bad day, you were stressed and going through a lot with your job, college and friends that you started to isolate yourself. matt noticed you hadn’t been answering his texts or hanging out with them for a while.

so without telling his brothers he drove all the way to your house, you were so embarrassed of him seeing you in this state. but all he cared about was your well-being. he sat down next to you and listened intently to your venting without interrupting. he held you in his arms and rubbed your back as you cried and let it all out. he made you feel safe and comfortable.

“get up,” he said as you calmed down. he took you by the hand and gestured for you to go to your room. confused, you furrowed your eyebrows and turned to give him a questioning look.

“wash your face and change into something comfortable, just trust me.” that was all you needed to hear as you went to do exactly what he said. once you were done, he took your hand again and led you outside to his car where he opened the passenger door for you and closed it gently after you were seated.

“where are we going?” you asked as he got adjusted in the driver’s seat.

“somewhere, anywhere, i didn’t really think this through ngl,” he giggled nervously, “but whenever i felt down, going for a drive and listening music always helped, so i thought it would help you too- this is goofy it probably won’t i’m sor-”

“that’s perfect, matt.” you smiled trying to hide the creeping blush on your face. seeing how caring and nervous he is right now made you feel giddy inside. he smiled back shyly and started the car.

you got takeout and listened to dominic fike the entire time, singing your hearts out and laughing at how awful you both sounded, at how silly you probably looked playing an air guitar, but you didn’t care. you’ve never felt so free and happy and without realizing it you were falling more and more for matt.

eventually he parked in a dark, deserted area and opened the roof of the car, “this is the best place for stargazing, it always calmed me down,” he said making you both look up at the stars.

you sat in silence for a few minutes listening to his playlist shuffle. until ‘why’ by dominic fike started playing and you both sat up straight singing and dancing along, you singing extra loud relating to the lyrics and matt admiring you, happy he got you out of your bad mood.

this was the beginning of your “little thing”, you regularly went cruising together listening to dom, and eventually it turned into you two hanging out alone more often. that’s why you wanted to go to the concert. it was your thing. but live this time.

“i’ll go with you,” matt blurted.

“you will?”

“yeah, i’ve already seen skies plenty. not passing up on this opportunity,” there was a sudden tension in the room between you two, you knew what he meant. the others remained clueless as you both shared a knowing smile.

the day of the concert you felt a bit anxious, maybe it was seeing dom for the first time, or going to a concert alone with matt, or both. it seemed like a couple-y thing to do. it also didn’t help that matt was acting like your boyfriend.

holding your hand, guiding you everywhere, placing his hand on your lower back or around your arm while squeezing past the crowd of people. he even told you you look pretty, which he never did before.

as dom opened with one of his songs you were already screaming and jumping in excitement causing matt to chuckle at how cute you were. you spent the entire time reenacting your cruising time but live in concert, singing, dancing, jumping around.

some lyrics you would sing to each other looking straight into the other’s eyes. it felt like you were the only two people there. the last song that played was ‘why’, you both shared a look remembering the first time you hung out alone. you wanted to sing along so badly but the way matt was looking at you made you forget where you were and what you were doing.

you were suddenly nervous again, he looked so beautiful with the light hitting his face, his hair messed up from jumping around, and his face flushed from how cramped it was. you wanted to kiss him so bad.

luckily, he was thinking the same thing as he slid one hand up your neck, cupping your jaw and the other on your waist and leaned in to kiss you. no one would believe you but fireworks actually started going off in that same moment almost representing how you both felt from the inside. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him even closer deepening the kiss while he smiled against your lips relieved that you reciprocated his feelings.

as you both pulled away the song got to the more upbeat part, he held your hand and you started singing along again with a new rush of adreline running through your veins lasting the entirety of the show.

on the way home you got some food and talked about the night you had and your feelings for each other. safe to say you don’t relate to ‘why’ anymore but it’ll forever be a special song to you and matt.

[wholelottawidows]

Being a mom to the Sully kids + Spider <3

heavily inspired by @star-girl69 (love your work btw) 🙏🤍 also you are mated with jake & neytiri in this because i said so ✌️😌 (fem!na'vi!reader)

sa'nok = mother & 'itan = son

Neteyam

definitely the least clingiest out of all them

but needs a lot of words of affirmation

i feel like jake puts a lot of pressure on him to always be "the big brother", to look after his siblings that sometimes he just needs to be reminded that he is still a kid too

"sa'nok, can i talk to you about something?"

him venting to you and you just looking at him with pride in your eyes

scolding jake for being to hard on him

"Ma Jake he's still a child!"

he would always appreciated you for that and always felt that he could talk to you about anything that was bothering him

always telling him to smile more even tho he has human teeth

calling him when he was a baby "mini tiri" because he is literally a copy & paste version of her <3

Kiri

she's definitely the hardest one to comfort

because of the whole grace thing and not knowing who her father is

A LOT OF LATE NIGHT TALKS

just you two walking around and talking about her connection with eywa

you being fiercely overprotective of her

she often feels odd; like she doesn't belong

but you are always there to remind her who she is and what she is worth

watching grace's videos together >>>

"sa'nok, do you think she would have liked me?"

"she would have loved you babygirl." <3

Lo'ak

you are definitely he's favorite parent

he is such a mamma's boy 🤍

when he was a baby you just loved spoiling him rotten

in your eyes he does no wrong and he will always be your baby

"i'm just a freak, they'll never see me as their equal, they'll never accept me."

"i see you ma 'itan." <3

i feel like you would often offer to cook him his favorite food to comfort him

when he first bonded with payakan you were the first person he told

always reminding him how proud you are of him and that he is enough

Tuktirey

the most clingiest out of all them

she always wants to be around you, play with you or just straight up cuddle with you

braiding her hair is your job at this point

she's always dragging you somewhere in the forest to explore with her

while you are doing something she will ask you to play with her at least a 100 times

"sa'nok come play with me pleaseeeeeee!"

you, her & neytiri are inseparable

when she gets homesick you try to cheer her up by taking care of her ilu together

Spider

at first you are kinda weirded out

how is he supposed be around neteyam's age and so little?

you don't really develop a relationship with him until he starts to get a bit older

same as neytiri, it was hard for you to accept him but you managed to with time

you actually start seeing him as your own

braiding his hair (i feel like he's hair would be really important to him because it's one of the only things that makes him feel connected to the na'vi people)

teaching him how to hunt; how to use a bow & arrow

always warning the other kids to be gentle with him because he's human and his body is more easily fractured then theirs