#like. its not?? good?? for them or anyone around them???

[sapphira-mydnyte]

~Part 2~

Most thought it was Ominis to be feared since he was a Gaunt & the Gaunts were the darkest wizard family of all, but Ominis didn't radiate the cold chill of death like his family did most of the time. He only gave off that chill when upset, but he kept his temper under control & went with words to break his opponents. It wasn't Ominis that was to be feared, not after what happened to the Sallow twins... it was Sebastian. If there were warnings to be heeded, there were two for certain that the students agreed upon. The first was to never upset Ominis since his family was a huge threat to everyone, the second was to never try Sebastian's rage in a duel. Ominis was tame compared to Sebastian when he got mad & Sebastian's rage was unheard of ever since the day Anne got cursed.

Of all the students that participated in Crossed Wands, Sebastian was the most ferocious of them all. However, when it came to his sister, the mere mention of her name tempted his anger. Her name triggered the memory of that dark day she was stolen from him, bringing out a rage so strong that he radiated the cold chill of death... something that Ominis couldn't ignore, nor could anyone else. Sebastian's hatred burned when anybody said her name & although he aimed it at none within the castle since they weren't the ones who hurt her, that rage of his was certainly felt in the duels by those who faced him. He dealt far more damage than usual, knocking his opponents clear across the room, even with their shields up. There was no escaping the heat from his onslaught of using Incendio, Bombarda & especially Confringo for anybody around. The clock tower felt like a harsh summer day on those days when Sebastian was unhinged a bit, but it paled in comparison to what he turned into once he was actually around her.

Feldcroft was a battlefield on the outskirts with goblins, poachers, Ashwinders & wildlife roaming about. Every time Sebastian went home, it was fireworks for hours on end as goblins & dark wizards tried to raid the place. Sebastian didn't give a damn who it was, but the goblins were his most hated foes & when Anne just happened to have one of her intervals of extreme pain.... a goblin nearly ended her. Sebastian acted in time to save her & although true, he used an unforgivable curse, his rage went into a black-out state because she was in danger. He didn't care how long it took, nor how many foes he had to deal with, but when it came to his sister's life, nobody was taking her away from him. Her sickness was already doing just that & Sebastian hated it the most, even more-so than the one responsible for cursing her. He could take down dark wizards, witches & goblins easily, but that damning sickness was one foe that he hadn't found a weakness in for two years.

His mind & heart darkened with hatred after slaying the goblin that nearly ended Anne from his uncle kicking him out of the house. It didn't matter to Sebastian how he saved his sister, but the main thing was that she was alive. She had done nothing wrong to deserve being attacked, Sebastian knew that & as her brother, he defended her. Anne was innocent & Sebastian didn't care who thought what of him for how he saved her after that day. She was his sister & nobody was going to tell him how he should & shouldn't protect her. Unforgivable curses be damned, he'd use them if it meant she lived to see another day & that was a far better use of them than hurting innocent people like Ominis' family did. Sebastian didn't use the unforgivable curses without good reason & only if it was a need, but when it comes to Anne... hell hath no fury like he does when it comes protecting her.

Her sickness pushes Sebastian's instinct to protect beyond normal because it is from the Cruciatus curse that it was born from. It's something that shouldn't exist & yet, it does. That sickness, for as long as Anne suffers from its painful spikes, causes Sebastian's heart to break more & more by the day. That sickness isn't just stealing Anne, it's also stealing Sebastian as well & Anne sees it in him. Sebastian's heart lies with her & for her, he do anything to bring her out of the shadow of the sickness that has chained her in a dungeon of demise.

"She's MY sister!"

No One Protects Her Like I Do

[organic-bloodbath]

Since Valentine's Day is around the corner I was wondering if you could you write about Thanos x reader about Thanos and the reader being childhood friends for many years until they got older and now developed feelings for each other so Thanos is trying to tell the reader about his feelings for her by asking her to be his Valentine?

Thanks!

Marry me?

Thanos x Reader

Summary: Thanos tries to find a way to confess his love for you and recreates some of your old memories together.

Warnings: This is so sweet and fluffy your teeth are gonna rot.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day sweeties ♡

☆☆☆

Thanos looked in your way as you worked on your painting. You had been here for the past three hours, having no breaks. Time flew faster than you realized when you had dived into the trance of painting and an hour felt like barely half of it.

You had been studying art for the past two years and were doing your final project at the moment. You had spent a lot of time and effort on it and were actually proud of it.

As you turned around, Thanos noticed a spot of blue paint stuck on your cheekbone. Your hands were always on paint too, you were so careless that sometimes you looked like you had been fingerpainting instead of using a brush. He wanted to press his thumb on your cheek and brush the paint off but he let his arms hang down on his sides.

"Are you going to keep staring at me or what?"

Every time your eyes locked with his, his heart skipped a beat and butterflies were flying inside his stomach, a smile creeping its way on his lips.

"It's looking good," he complimented and nodded towards the large painting.

"Oh, it's not nearly done yet," you shook your head. "But thanks." You turned back to your painting, adding a yellow stroke to the sun. "What's up?"

"Y/N," Thanos said quietly, taking a deep breath as he was gathering his words and courage in one pile.

"Hm?"

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"Well, one guy did ask me out and to be his Valentine," you answered. "Wanted to take me for a dinner."

Thanos' heart dropped and his eyes widened, but then he quickly tried to wipe the shocked and disappointed expression from his face. He didn't think he succeeded at that very well, but thankfully you hadn't looked at him.

"Oh, really?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, making him awkwardly clear his throat. "Who is he?"

"One guy from my class. I know he's had a crush on me for a long time," you shrugged and continued painting, dipping your brush in the red paint on your palette. "I said no, though."

Thanos tried to fight the smile off his face, his heart racing faster now for a sprinkle of hope.

"I see," he mumbled. "So, your calendar is free tomorrow?"

"Yep," you confirmed and turned your head towards Thanos. "Why?"

"Well, I was thinking if you wanted to do something with me," Thanos offered.

"Sure, what did you have in mind?"

"Hmm, it's a surprise," he smiled, trying to act all mysterious. You lifted your eyebrows and crossed your arms on your chest, the brush making a red line on your arm in the process.

"A surprise, huh?" you repeated. "Not going to give even a small hint?"

"Nope, you'll see then."

You narrowed your eyes. "Alright, keep your secrets."

☆☆☆

Thanos had been in love with you for years, but was afraid of revealing it to you. What if you didn't feel the same for him and he'd ruin your friendship with his dumb confession? But he was equally as scared to say anything at all.

He couldn't keep his feelings hidden anymore, hiding them was eating him alive. He couldn't watch one more guy flirt with you, be able to kiss you and hold you close. You hadn't dated anyone in the past few years, and somewhere in his heart Thanos had a nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way about him and were only waiting for him to gather enough courage to ask you out.

Thanos had thought about a million different ways how to tell you about his feelings, but still didn't know which one would be good enough. Should he just take your hand, look into your eyes and tell you those three words that were stuck in his throat? Should he plan a huge surprise for you and do a grand gesture for confessing how he felt? Buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, along with a box of those strawberry chocolates you couldn't get enough of?

He knew you didn't care too much about big surprises and large spectacles, you liked simple gestures, but still he wanted to put effort on telling about his feelings more than holding your hands in your living room while tv was playing today's news. Maybe he should cook a nice dinner for the two of you? Buy candles of your favorite scent?

You deserved only the best and nothing less.

☆☆☆

When you were 12 years old, your mom took you and your sister to an arcade. You loved playing different games but this was your first time in this arcade.

You wanted to play a race car game, which would include two players, but your sister didn't care about it. She had gone to play some space shooting game which name you didn't know. As you stood by the machine, a boy approached you.

"Do you want to play?" he asked.

"Um, i don't have a partner to play with," you answered shyly.

"Me neither," he said. "Want to play together?"

Your heart fluttered as you looked at the boy's smiling face.

"Sure," you said quietly. You had always been a little nervous and shy around boys, you didn't know exactly why.

You sat on the leather chairs next to each other and grabbed the wheel with both of your hands.

"Just so you know, i've never lost in this game," the boy said proudly.

"Is that a challenge?" you scoffed. "We'll see about that."

You had played a race car game a few times with your dad. Obviously you had won every round, because he wouldn't let his little daughter lose and get upset.

As you managed to get to the finish line just a few seconds before the boy, you let out a cheer while the boy only sat there silent, absolutely speechless. Nobody had beat him before, and now he lost to a girl? Absolutely outrageous.

"Ha, i won," you mocked him, seeing the defeated look on his face. "Want to play again?"

And for the next four rounds, he won only once, and that was because you let him so he wouldn't go back home totally upset.

Now, Thanos entered the same arcade, you following behind him.

"Su-bong," you said slowly. "Is this a date?"

Thanos felt his cheeks become red.

"Oh, well, i mean - do you want this to be one?" he stuttered.

"You brought me to the place where we first met on a Valentine's day," you pointed out with an amused smile. "I'd say that's pretty romantic."

You had guessed Thanos was planning a date for you, since it was Valentine's Day, but only never mentioned the 'date' word so you went along with it the way he did. You had noticed his reaction, the tone in his voice, when you mentioned that someone had asked you out, and his demeanor changing immediately when you told him you had refused.

"Would it be okay if... this was a date?" he asked carefully, sounding like he was afraid of getting slapped on the face. You didn't answer right away, which made Thanos panic a little bit. "It doesn't have to be, if you don't want to."

You bit your lip to prevent you smiling too widely. You had rarely seen Thanos as shy as he was acting right now, cheeks pink, and found it adorable.

"Maybe," you teased. "Do you have any other plans for our date?" You intentionally put more weight on the last word.

"I might have," he smiled.

"Is that a surprise too or will you reveal it to me?"

"I'll have it as a surprise," he said. "Atleast until i win in the car race."

"What do you mean 'win'?" you huffed, narrowing your eyes, arms against your chest. "Mind you, it's pretty obvious i'm better than you."

"To be fair, that was 15 years ago, and you failed your first driving test to get your driving license."

"I guess we'll see then, hm?"

For the first round, you took easy on him and held back, pretending to be worse than him and lose on purpose. He had to get false hope in his head that he's better than you, just so you could crush his ego on the next round.

"You can't be serious," Thanos scoffed.

"Told you, i'm better than you," you said. "You know what difference we have? I'm a reckless driver while you're the more careful one. That's why i don't drive in real life but succeed in videogames."

To be honest, on the outside you and Thanos looked probably the complete opposite, Thanos being the more reckless one.

"I'll win you one day, let me tell you," Thanos insisted.

"I guess we'll have to come here more often and get a membership card or something."

You felt your stomach growling.

"So, i hope the next part of our date involves food," you stated. "Otherwise i'll be angry if you're going to starve me."

"Don't worry, there's food," he assured you.

☆☆☆

Thanos took you into a restaurant where you hadn't eaten in ages. It had been your favorite place when you were a teenager, visiting it regularly with Thanos and your other friends too. You didn't really remember why you had stopped going there.

Your first time in this restaurant had been with Thanos. You were 16 years old at the time and you had missed the last bus which would take you back home. The restaurant was open until late at night around 1 or 2 am and it was the only one open nearby.

"What is this place?" you had asked.

"One of my favorite restaurants, they serve the best french fries," Thanos told you. "And you can get a dessert on discount."

"On discount?" you asked. "What are you, a regular customer and get every fifth pancake for free?"

"No, they have this policy that if someone proposes here, they get free dessert."

"You've proposed to a girl before?" Now you were really intrigued.

"Not yet, but i've seen that happen. Twice."

"You know that we're only 16, Su-bong," you reminded him.

"You look older though," he said, making you to smack his shoulder in annoyance.

Hesitantly, you agreed for a proposal performance in the middle of the restaurant after you had finished your meal. You had never enjoyed becoming the centre of attention, but with Thanos it felt different, because his presence managed to relax a lot more.

He really did drop down on his knee in front of you by your table, taking your hands in his as he showed you the ring, which was just shaped out of a piece of aluminium foil while you ate. You hadn't told him, but you kept the "ring" in your jewelry box for months, until you accidentally lost it somewhere.

He hadn't joked around back then, they really did offer you free dessert to a newly engaged couple, and the restaurant believed the act completely.

"We're eating here?"

"Yep," he said. "And i hope you're able to act along again."

"What, you going to propose again?" you chuckled and lifted your left eyebrow.

"I might," he admitted, then leaning close to whisper into your ear. "But don't tell Y/N, it has to be a surprise."

"My lips are sealed," you promised and closed the invisible zipper on your lips.

You entered the restaurant, a few people sitting at the tables, most of them looked like couples.

You ordered food and ate while having a nice conversation between the bites. He asked about your art project and in general about your most recent works which you were always excited to talk about. Thanos loved listening to your voice and especially hear you laugh. He loved how passionate you were about art as well.

You didn't know how much time had passed, most likely around an hour and half. After you had almost finished eating, Thanos took your hand in his over the table and looked directly into your eyes.

"Y/N," he said and tried to stay serious and not burst out laughing for what he was about to do. "I have something to tell you." He started to stand up, but not until he whispered to you: "Remember to act surprised."

Thanos got up and kneeled right in front of you, getting a ring out of his pocket and held it in the air on his eye level. You had to cover your mouth only to stop you from laughing.

"Y/N, will you marry me?"

You had always been good at faking tears and make yourself cry out of nothing. Right now, you let your eyes water again and twisted your face to look absolutely shocked, keeping your hand against your mouth. But faking the tears was easier than it would have been normally in other situations. The way he looked at you now with his pleading eyes made your heart race and butterflies appear in your stomach.

"Yes!" you squeled, on purpose loud enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear. Luckily the restaurant wasn't very large, so the waitress wasn't far away either. "Of course i'll marry you, honey."

A few people had turned to look at the two of you, pausing their own conversation. As Thanos got up and pulled you into a warm, tight hug, a few people started to clap and cheer for you, making your cheeks turn red.

Thanos put the ring on your finger. It was made of plastic and had a pink jewel on it, which looked like it could fall off any moment. But it fit perfectly in your finger.

You sat back at your table, and soon the waitress brought two plates of cheesecake for both of you.

"Congratulations," she smiled. "On the house."

You and Thanos thanked her.

"You know, this is the second time you've proposed to me but there still hasn't been a wedding," you pointed out, acting a little disappointed, and took a spoonful of cheesecake into your mouth. "Truly feels like you're avoiding commitment."

"I'm not avoiding anything, excuse me," Thanos stated.

"Mhm," you hummed, enjoying every bite of your cheesecake which was the best you had ever tasted.

"Alright then." Thanos straightened his back. "I suppose our date has one more step."

☆☆☆

You ended up into an empty park, nobody else in sight. It was already dark, the moon shining above you and a few starts here and there. This was the place where you and Thanos used to come after school sometimes, just to hang out when there wasn't many kids around.

"What are we doing here, Su-bong?" you asked, looking around you.

"I'm improvising our wedding," he said.

"Oh really?" you asked, surprised he was actually going through with it.

"Mhm," he hummed.

"We don't have a priest though."

"I was at my cousin's wedding couple of months ago, i think i can handle that," he said confidently. He didn't remember all the correct words but this was a last second wedding anyway.

"Well, we need a wedding witness too," you pointed out. Thanos looked around the park for a moment until spotted something on the ground.

"That's easy," he said and grabbed a teddy bear from the ground. It was dirty and wet after being dropped in a puddle. "He will do."

"I think he needs to be a little older and more alive."

"Y/N, look at him," Thanos said seriously and pointed at the bear where he had just put it, sitting on the ground facing you. "He has clearly seen life more than enough."

"Alright, fair enough," you chuckled.

"Okay, stand over here," he said, pulling you to the correct spot by his hand on your elbow. "Just like that, don't move."

Thanos didn't stand in front of you, but next to you, facing towards the bear.

"We have gathered here today to wed this beautiful couple," Thanos announced, lowering his voice even lower than his natural voice normally was. "Su-bong, please say your wedding vows."

Thanos stepped to stand in front of you, taking your hands in his. He cleared his throat and straightened his back until looked directly into your eyes. You tried to keep a serious face but was on the edge of laughing.

"Y/N... i really like you," Thanos said slowly and took a deep breath. He hadn't exactly planned a proper speech of his love confessing to you, so he had to just say everything that came into his mind. "I've known you over half of my life. You're that one person in my life who i will never want to lose. You're beautiful, funny, creative and the most caring person i know. I've had the best moments of my life with you and i hope we can keep making more of those memories together. I promise to love you always and forever, if you'll have me."

Your cheeks were burning hot, butterflies in your stomach ripping you apart and you couldn't get rid of the smile on your face, almost hurting your cheeks by now.

"That was beautiful, Su-bong," you admitted quietly. "Are you sure you don't write anything else than rap lyrics?"

"Just said what came into my mind by looking at you," he confessed and lifted his hand to put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Well, i liked that," you smiled. "I liked that a lot."

Thanos stepped back into the priests spot for a second.

"Y/N, please say your wedding vows to this handsome gentleman," he announced, then stepping back to his spot in front of you.

"You know i'm not very good with words," you mumbled shyly.

"That's okay," he said in a comforting tone. "It doesn't have to be a long speech."

"Su-bong," you said, taking a deep breath. "You've been my best friend ever since we were kids. You've always been there for me in everything and you're the person i trust the most in my life. And i want to have you for the rest of my life by my side."

Thanos looked at you in complete awe, his heart about to burst out of his chest. He wanted to grab you into his arms already, it took all his effort to stay still on his spot.

"Y/N, will you take Choi Su-bong as your lawful husband and promise to cherish and love him until death takes you apart?"

You bit your lip to try and resist the smile breaking your face by stretching too large.

"This is your last chance to say no and run away from the invisible altar," Thanos whispered to you. "Just make sure not to trip on the sand box on the way."

You chuckled and eventually nodded. "I will."

He felt like he would need to make you repeat those two simple words, just to make sure you had really agreed, and for a second he was frozen to his spot. He quickly shook his head to make himself function again and cleared his throat.

"Choi Su-bong, will you take Y/N as your lawful wife and promise to cherish and love her until death takes you apart?"

Thanos moved to his spot again, looking deep into your eyes.

"I will."

You let out a short giggle.

"In the presence of this dirty teddy bear, i hereby announce you a husband and wife," Thanos announced, hand on his heart. "You may kiss the bride."

You bit your lip, your insides warming up. Thanos took a step closer to you, only a few inches left between your bodies, and slowly put his hand on your cheek, it felt cold against your skin. He glanced at your lips, unsure if he should actually proceed or not.

You grabbed his face in your hands and instantly pulled him into a deep kiss. He didn't hesitate a moment longer, immediately putting his hands against your lower back to pull you closer against him. Thanos had waited for this moment for years and was sure that he was only dreaming and would wake up back to the reality any moment.

But you were in his arms, he was truly holding you close and finally kissing you. He had confessed his feelings to you and you hadn't just laughed at his face, making him feel ridiculous. Would you really be his?

You broke the kiss but kept your face close enough that the tip of your noses touched, keeping eye contact with him. Your hand rested against the back of his head, his on your hips.

"You know," you started with a teasing smile. "I think we should stay just as friends after all."

"That didn't convince you, huh?" he asked with raised eyebrows, face completely serious, putting his hand back on your cheek. "Do i need to do that again?"

"Perhaps," you teased. He didn't hesitate a second longer, pressing his lips on yours in a passionate, but also soft, kiss. His hands were wandering up your back.

"Did i convince you now?" he asked, putting his forefinger under your chin and touching your lower lip with his thumb. "I can do that as many times as i need to."

"I think we're good - for now," you smiled. "So, why did it take you this long to do that?"

"Because i'm an idiot," he laughed.

"So, are we engaged now for real, hm?" you asked, twirling the plastic ring on your finger.

"It's actually insulting that you think my real proposal includes a ring which cost 50 cents at a thrift shop," he defended himself with raised eyebrows. "And taking place at midnight in a park where teenagers come to smoke after school."

You looked at the ground and saw several cigarette stumps all around the sand.

"Fair," you giggled and bit your lip, then changing the tone of your voice to a more serious one. "But... if we're not official husband and wife right now, will we be one day?"

"If you want to," he whispered. "I'd like to settle for a boyfriend and girlfriend label for now - if that's okay with you?"

"More than okay," you agreed with a large smile and leaned in to kiss him again.

"Good," Thanos said and held you close.

☆☆☆

[bratbarzal]

Maggie you doing blurbs has made my whole week! Could I get “you celebrate this corny day?” “just say you’re lonely and have no one to spend it with, next time, ‘kay?” but with friends to lovers instead of enemies? With Quinn pleeeease <3

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

4. “you celebrate this corny day?” “just say you’re lonely and have no one to spend it with, next time, ‘kay?” with quinn (I took creative liberties with the exact phrasing of this but the essence is there lmao!! also love you for customising it, if anyone else is requesting feel free to jumble the tropes!!)

"You can't seriously be into all this stuff," Quinn huffs as he watches you pick up another heart shaped pillow down the seasonal aisle in the grocery store - your cart still empty despite being there almost 15 minutes, now - and the object in your hand having no conceivable difference to the one you picked up just before it. "It's so corny."

All he's heard for weeks now is Valentines this, and Valentines that, all his teammates going the extra mile for their significant others like it isn't just the same as any other Friday.

Dozens of roses, candlelit dinners, boxes of chocolates and God-forbid any of them forget a card, because how could you possibly ever show someone you love them without a folded bit of paper.

It's all so stupid.

"It's not corny, it's cute." You throw back over your shoulder, making a point of lifting the pillow higher just to show him, "Look, it's got ruffles!"

"What's the big deal about ruffles," he scowls, stepping past the cart and closer to the display that houses all the valentines themed garbage - pillows, keychains, water bottles and little plushies. He never thought you'd be into all this stuff - you barely even like Christmas - but here you are, fawning over anything you can find that's pink, or fluffy, or both. "You have like 90 pillows back in your apartment, I can barely fit on the couch anymore."

"There are 8 pillows max between both of my couches, Q, and they're decorative." You retort, rolling your eyes at your best friend as his face turns, nose scrunching in a petulant scowl. "I'm not taking interior design critique from someone with a sauna in his kitchen."

"It wouldn't fit anywhere else, you know that." he grumbles, snatching the pillow from your grip and throwing it back with the others.

"What's got you so annoyed about Valentines Day, huh?" you pick up the next item along, a fluffy keychain with cherries shaped like hearts - or hearts shaped like cherries, you're not quite sure - swinging the loop around your finger until you have enough momentum to launch it his way. "Did no one give Quinny a rose?"

He catches it, clumsily, against his chest, holding it in front of him to get a good look before he throws it straight back. "I'm not annoyed. You shouldn't have to buy any of this garbage to show somebody you love them. Just think it's a made up holiday set up to make money off of schmucks. "

"Hey, don't call me a schmuck," you jab a finger into his arm.

"Don't call me Quinny," he jabs back.

"If you don't have anybody to spend Valentines with and you're feeling lonely, you can just say that," You tell him, purposely bordering on condescending, picking up one of the stuffed animals - a bear, holding a heart that reads, I love you - and wiggling it his way. "See, we're all lovers, no one else here is gonna judge you."

He watches the way you pout down at the bear, tapping at its nose with your finger and hesitantly putting it back, like you don't quite want to.

"We're the only ones here, period," he scoffs, "No one else is weird enough to do their grocery shopping at 10pm."

"It was the only time you're free and I need you to haul the big bag of cat food into my car," you pout, remembering how much he had scolded you the last time you tried to do it on your own and hurt your back - promising that the next time you needed to top up, he'd come with and get his own shopping done at the same time.

"Whatever, you don't have anybody to spend Valentines with, either."

"I have Ziggy," you shrug, referring to your cat with the little white patch of fur around it's eye like a lightening bolt - the cat that Quinn had grumbled about when you first brought her home from the shelter, but who he always sought out whenever he came over to your place. "We're gonna watch Bake Off and eat dinner off of matching heart-shaped plates."

You hold up two red ceramic plates to him with a big smile before putting them in the cart, ignoring when he chuckles to himself, and edging past him to finally make your way off of the seasonal aisle.

"Hold on," he calls after you, appearing by your side with another plate in hand. "Ziggy already told me she'd be my Valentine, so we're gonna have to share."

"She's way too high maintenance for you." You snort, bumping your hip against his, "Especially if you think Valentines gifts are corny. She's not a cheap date, Q."

"Just like her mother," he sighs, dramatically, jumping back when you swing your leg out to kick him. "Hey, watch the shins, cat lady, you can't afford the damages on these things!"

He ignores the glare you give him as you watch him retreat, jogging back over to all the Valentines stuff and picking up two bears - the one you were just holding, and a smaller copy - one for you, and one for Ziggy.

"Here," he throws them into the cart, too. You pick the bear back up, twisting your lips as you look at the two of them side by side, and look back up to watch him walking backwards down the aisle, a glint in his eye as he watches you. "Don't check out without me, I need to go pick up some supplements."

"Big macho health-nut thinks I'm the corny one," you speak to the bear like it can even hear you, putting on a grumbly voice in an attempt to mimic Quinn.

"I'm sorry I called you corny!" He calls, further down the aisle, now.

"You called me a schmuck, too!" You call back, cheeks flushing at the lopsided grin he gives just before he rounds the corner at the bottom.

It's a smile he can't really shift as he makes a bee-line for the health aisle, content now that he actually has plans - isn't going to be sitting alone in his apartment with no one to spend his Valentines with, and doesn't need to fork out thousands just for it to mean something.

And when it rolls around a couple days later, and he's sprawled out on your couch, pillows tossed to the floor, and Bake Off flickering almost silently on your TV, he lays back with that same smile etched into his features.

You're asleep under one arm, and Ziggy is purring under the other, and for the first time ever, thanks to his best friend and your overly fluffy cat, he thinks that maybe the holiday isn't such a joke.

[arxiwon]

Things Boyfriend!Jay Does to Make You Feel Loved ᥫ᭡

Boyfriend!Jay is the kind of guy who makes love feel effortless. His affection is in the little things—the way his fingers always find yours, the way his gaze lingers like he’s trying to memorize every part of you, the way he makes sure you never feel anything less than cherished. Jay doesn’t love loudly; he loves in the quiet, intimate moments that sneak up on you and leave you breathless.

Holds Your Hand Like It’s Second Nature Jay doesn’t just hold your hand—he owns it. His fingers instinctively lace with yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. Whether you're walking through a crowded street or sitting side by side, his grip is always firm, as if letting go isn't an option.

Puts His Jacket Over You Without a Word Jay doesn’t ask if you’re cold. He just knows. One second you’re shivering, the next? His jacket is draped over your shoulders, still warm from his body heat. And if you try to refuse? He just shrugs, "Too bad, you’re mine. That means my jacket is yours too."

Tilts Your Chin When He Kisses You Jay’s kisses are never rushed. He tilts your chin up just slightly, eyes flickering between yours and your lips, giving you just enough time to anticipate it before finally closing the distance. The way he kisses you isn’t just affectionate—it’s intentional.

Wraps His Arm Around You in Crowds Jay is protective in a way that feels natural. If you're in a crowded place, his arm immediately finds its way around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. No words, no second thoughts—just instinct. And if anyone so much as looks at you for too long? His grip tightens.

Knows Your Usual Order and Gets It Without Asking Jay remembers everything. Your go-to coffee order, the exact way you like your fries, even that one weird snack you always crave at midnight. Before you even have to say it, he's already handing it to you like, "Here, love. I know you wanted this."

Holds Your Face When He Kisses You Jay’s hands are never idle when he kisses you. He cups your cheeks, fingers grazing your jawline, thumbs brushing against your skin as if trying to memorize the feel of you. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a reminder that you’re his favorite person in the world.

Keeps a Picture of You in His Wallet It’s an old-school habit, but Jay keeps a small photo of you in his wallet. When someone asks about you, he immediately pulls it out with the proudest smile, like you’re his greatest achievement.

Texts You the Moment He Wakes Up and Before He Sleeps Jay’s first and last thoughts of the day? You. His morning texts are simple but sweet—"Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?" And at night? "Sleep tight, love. Dream of me." No matter how busy he is, he always makes time for you.

Leaves Soft Kisses on Your Shoulder When You’re Half-Asleep Jay loves the quiet moments with you, especially when you’re half-asleep. He’ll press soft, lingering kisses against your shoulder, his lips barely grazing your skin as he murmurs, "I love you." It’s his favorite way to say it when you don’t have to say anything back.

Calls You Every Cute Pet Name Possible Jay loves pet names, and he switches them up constantly. "Babe" when he’s being casual, "Princess" when he’s teasing, "Love" when he’s feeling soft. And if he’s really feeling it? He’ll whisper "baby" in that voice—the one that makes your heart drop.

Drunk Jay Is the Softest Jay Jay rarely gets too drunk, but when he does? Oh, he’s a mess. He calls you non-stop just to say he loves you, whines if you’re not there, clings onto you and refuses to let go. The next morning, he acts like he doesn’t remember anything. (He totally does.)

Uses You as His Personal Pillow Jay loves laying on you—head on your lap, arms wrapped around your waist, anything. If you try to move? He tightens his hold. "Nope. You’re stuck with me." He’s never letting go.

The Way He Kisses You? Insane. Jay’s kisses aren’t just kisses. They linger. Forehead kisses that feel so warm and safe, quick pecks just because he can’t resist you, slow, lazy kisses when he’s in his feelings. And if he pulls away just to whisper "You have no idea what you do to me." before going in again? Yeah. Game over.

Says "I Miss You" Even When You’re Right There Jay will literally be holding you and still say: "I miss you." When you ask why? "Dunno. Just do." And somehow, that makes your heart ache in the best way.

Randomly Stares at You Like He’s in Love (Because He Is) Sometimes, you’ll catch Jay just looking at you. No reason. Just admiring you. When you ask him why? He just shrugs. "Can’t I just look at my favorite person?"

Always Puts You First—Always Jay could be exhausted, but if you need something? He’s on it. If you're tired, he’ll run his fingers through your hair until you fall asleep. If you’re sick, he’s making sure you rest properly. If you’re sad, he’s dropping everything to be with you. "You come first, always."

Gets Shy When You Compliment Him Back Jay is all confidence—until you start flirting back. You tell him he looks handsome? He tries to play it cool but subtly smirks. You say you love his voice? He blushes. You call him "my pretty boy"? He malfunctions. "Babe, stop, you’re making me shy." (Yeah, sure, now he’s shy.)

Carries Extra Stuff Just in Case You Need It Jay is that boyfriend who carries your lip balm, hair ties, and even tissues because "I know you always forget these, babe." And if you ever need anything? Boom, he already has it.

Would Rather Suffer Than Let You Be Uncomfortable If there’s one umbrella and it’s raining? You get it all. One blanket and it’s freezing? He wraps it around you first. If he’s holding a drink, but you’re thirsty? He hands it to you without thinking. Jay would literally do anything to make sure you’re okay.

Looks at You Like You’re the Best Thing That’s Ever Happened to Him Jay’s love is in the way he looks at you—like you’re his world, like he can’t believe you’re real, like he never wants to let go. And the best part? He makes sure you know it.

Summary:

Boyfriend!Jay is literally unreal. He’s playful but protective, teasing but deeply affectionate, confident but secretly soft only for you. His love is in the little things—the stares, the touches, the random "I love yous" that make your heart race.

And the best part? He does it all so effortlessly, as if loving you is the most natural thing in the world.

Happy Valentine y'all <3

[queervegancryptid]

What's really bizarre to me is how this sort of thing dovetails with the mentality a lot of these people have in terms of, like, the prosperity gospel doctrine common to a lot of religious conservatives. It took me a really long time to wrap my head around it in this way.

I added a cut because this got long. But I think it's important for anyone trying to make sense of this kind of bullshit to understand this as part of the why. I grew up around it, and it still took me a long time to understand its role in all this. I don't think it necessarily applies to RFK Jr, but it applies to a lot of conservatives, in and out of government. So I think it's relevant.

For anybody who doesn't know, the prosperity gospel thinking of which I speak is basically the idea that how good you have it and how well your life is going is a direct result of your status in the eyes of God. That is to say, it isn't just that they think they deserve good things, but more than that, they think having good things is a sign of being a good person, so your socioeconomic status is seen as a direct reflection of how good or bad a person you are. This also goes along with the idea that, without this "God" as they understand it, there is no morality at all.

The flip side of this is that they fully believe not having good things is a sign you don't deserve them because God has decided you're not deserving, and who are these good Christians if they hubristically question God's plan? So if you lose your job, your home, etc, they don't necessarily see themselves as having a community obligation to help you. They see it as your fuck up, and you need to get right with the Lord.

In other words, how good or bad your life is is directly proportional to how much or how little God approves of you. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, and it's your own fault if you haven't managed to be pure enough to earn a good life.

What we see here is that mentality applied to illness. And it isn't actually new, in terms of how they think of disability being something you can avoid if you're truly deserving of having a healthy body that works as expected. If you don't have that, that's a "you" problem. Even if it's caused by something preventable or something that wouldn't have caused a disabling condition to occur, had the person had access to care, they still see it as a reflection of them having earned it in some way by not being better in the eyes of God.

Basically what I'm saying is that they don't care if children or old people or immune compromised people or literally any group I could name dies of COVID or any of the other illnesses that are preventable via vaccination or other means or from an otherwise treatable condition. They don't care about any of that, because if the little kid was supposed to be healthy, God wouldn't have let them get COVID/flu/polio/etc.

There are definitely also people who are just, well, stupid. Like folks who think vaccines cause autism. Even if they did, that would make it a pretty easy choice: maybe having an autistic child OR having your (maybe, but not guaranteed) neurotypical child get seriously ill and maybe die from illnesses that they would otherwise be a lot more protected from. So they're basically saying that they'd rather have a sick or dead child than an autistic one, and as an autistic person, I'm offended and hurt by that mentality, but more than that, if you feel that way, you probably shouldn't be having children in the first place.

But the prosperity gospel complex is real and deeply shapes a lot of the mentality of people who voted based on crap like vaccine mandates and mask mandates. It's a very real "I got mine, so I must be good with God, and everyone else is on their own, including children and people at high risk I could be protecting by being responsible. If they get sick and die, that's on them."

They're all going to the Bad Place, if there is one. But I'm just trying to get people to understand the mentality involved here. It generally isn't worth arguing with people who think that way, but if you're going to engage, you should know this is what you're up against. And I really hope it helps some folks understand that this is part of what we're up against. Once you see it through that lens, a lot of the crazy bullshit they pull becomes predictable. No less horrifying, but less jarring in a way, at least to me.

I also think it's generally good to, for want of a better phrase, "know your enemy." Not for the purposes of reasoning with them, necessarily, because this is often impossible. But understanding how this fucked up machine works is a good thing, and this is part of what feeds into it.

Still, sometimes a monster is just a monster. And not in a fun Tumblr way, but in a Strange New Worlds gorn type of way: you can't reason with it, and it wants to kill you and is definitely very capable. (I know we got monsterfuckers here, and probably some of you would be down to clown with gorn, but let me have my metaphor here pls. No judgement, just not the point of this post lol)

Sorry this got long. I grew up around these people, and sometimes I forget I know about the culture in some ways others may not. So I see posts with people (rightly) outraged by things like this, wondering how any reasonable person could be okay with this. And the thing is, they aren't reasonable. Stop expecting reasonable behavior out of these people, because you'll just be disappointed and aggravated. I know some of this seems crazy, and that's because it is. It's insidious in so many ways, too.

My dad used to say, "Never argue with a pig. It won't work, and it just irritates the pig." Sometimes that's true. Sometimes, though, the pig likes it, and you just end up covered in shit, because that's what pigs do. Save yourself the trouble.

I don't think children should die of preventable diseases just because their parents are freaks.

RFK Jr. and Red State paternalism are a deadly mix for innocent children.

Mind you, RFK is vaccinated AND he vaccinated his own kids. But, you can die.

[yawchi]

BACK SUPPORT — M.O.

After hours at Onigiri Miya are always rather quiet.

It’s when all the employees clock out one by one, collect their things and finish up their duties before saying bye to the boss and heading out. And it’s when you always stop by to meet your boyfriend whenever you happen to be in the area during closing time.

(Which, granted, you find an excuse to be pretty frequently. But that’s not the point here).

The bell of the front door jingles as you let yourself in, meeting the last straggler of your boyfriend’s establishment just on their way out. He’s young, working to pay his way through college, Osamu told you. He has kind eyes and a sweet smile, a good kid.

“Hi,” he nods, moves to hold the door open as you finish walking through, points a thumb behind him. “Boss is in the back restocking, he wouldn’t let me stay to help.”

“Figures,” you laugh, shaking your head to yourself. “He’s a bit stubborn.”

And the kid chuckles like he doesn’t want to agree because it’s his boss, but the knowing smile speaks volumes anyways. He gives a quick bow of his head, mutters a polite goodnight, then the bell’s jingling again and you’re left alone in the front of your boyfriend’s restaurant.

You toss your keys onto the counter and push past the little waist high door with your hip to venture to the back of the restaurant. It’s pretty clean, save for where Osamu seems to have flung his hat off by the sink and there’s a familiar black apron pooled in the floor that looks to have fallen off its hook. You collect them both and smile to yourself as you clean up after him.

That’s when you hear it, as you swing by his office to put up the overlay part of his uniform—the slight muffled grunts coming from the storage room. Right, he’s restocking. Lucky you.

And if you were anyone else, you might be annoyed. Because the nights where Osamu stays behind by himself to restock can get long—like right now, with the time pushing midnight when he’s normally snuggled up in your bed by eleven—but, you must argue, it does have its perks. Like him bringing home extra leftovers from the day to make it up to you for being late. Or him giving you sweet sleepy kisses as he plops himself on top of you as soon as he walks in.

Or, and this is arguably your favorite one, you getting to witness the sight of him like this.

Your teeth dig into the corner of your lip as you lean against the doorframe of the storage room, the grunts that lead you to him punching through the air again as you watch the muscles of Osamu’s back flex and release as he tosses a bag of rice under one of the shelves. His work shirt hugs him so nicely, tight across the broad expanse of his shoulders and snug around the definition of his arms. It gets a little baggy past the expanse of his chest, a little looser towards his waist, but it bunches up due to the back brace he has strapped on.

You remember when he got it, albeit begrudgingly as he came home one day shy to show you what he picked up on his run to the store. The faint flush to his cheeks as he mumbled about how he can’t move as easily as he used to, that all those years of volleyball aren’t doing him any good now. You’d just kissed his cheek, told him it wasn’t even a big deal, anything that would keep him from hurting himself.

And as you eye the way the brace squeezes around his waist, does well to accentuate the slight cinch there that’s gotten just a bit wider over the years but is still very nice, you can’t even attempt to fight off the slight swirl in your gut.

Oh yes, lucky you indeed.

“Woo,” you whistle as he straightens up to swipe his forehead with the back of his hand, chewing your cheek as he looks over his shoulder at you.

“Oh, baby.” And he’s breathless, and it shouldn’t sound so fucking attractive, as he turns to walk towards you. He places his hands on your waist, drops his head for a kiss and hums against your lips. “Shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s late. Ya get cranky past eleven.”

“I get even crankier when my boyfriend isn’t in bed with me,” you retort, but there’s no malice in the confinement of the storage room, no tilt to your words. You kiss him again. “But getting to walk in on you like this isn’t so bad.”

Osamu laughs into your mouth, pulling back slightly when you try to loop your arms around his neck. He catches your wrist, kisses your palm.

“Ah, don’t get too close. I’m all sweaty,” he offers up with an apologetic grin, then tips his head with a scrunch of his nose when you roll your eyes. “I just have a few more bags to move, then we can get ya home and in bed.”

“Yeah,” you hum, but you don’t pull away. Instead you trail your hand down his chest, try to bite back your smirk at the way your boyfriend shivers a bit, until your fingertips reach the edge of the tight brace wrapped around his waist. “Guess I’ll just sit back and enjoy the view, hm?”

You give the brace a tug, do your best to swallow the giggle that threatens to slip at Osamu’s over exaggerated groan. His fingers give your waist a squeeze, a signature Miya pout being thrown in your direction.

“Yer evil,” he sulks, stares at you like he’s fighting some terrible inner battle, then grumbles under his breath as he surges forward to kiss you again. “Ya said you won’t pay attention to it.”

“No I said I wouldn’t make fun,” you correct, blow out a light laugh as Osamu pulls you flush against him while peppering kisses down your throat. “Not paying attention to it would be a crime when it makes you look so good.”

His lips pause on your throat. You swear you can feel the flush burning from his cheeks straight into your neck. You thread your fingers into the damp buzz of his undercut, run your nails over his scalp.

“It’s for back support,” he mumbles, low and soft. And maybe you are evil, truly, because the retort is quick from your lips.

“I could use some back support.”

Osamu stops breathing, you press into him a bit more, then suddenly you’re being moved over and pushed back onto the checklist desk by the wall. You can’t help the fit of giggles you fall into as your boyfriend nips at your neck, his fingers squeezing your sides in a mixture to tickle and also to drag you closer all while he berates you.

“Oh you’re gonna need back support by the time I get done with ya,” he chuckles, moves up to kiss you even as his lips curl in a grin and soil the action. He grabs one of your thighs, hooks your leg around his waist playfully. “So mean, comin’ in and distracting me when I’m trying to get work done. I’m busy, yanno. And you just wanna tease and—“

“Sir? Sorry, I think I left my apartment keys by the—“

Both yours and Osamu’s eyes widen, heads snapping to the doorway of the storage room. There stands the sweet, sweet boy from earlier, face going from pale to red to about seven different emotions all at once as he takes in the scene. Then he slaps a hand over his eyes almost comically, turns on his heel to retreat, shouting out sorry’s every step of the way as you and your boyfriend stare after him appalled.

Osamu scrambles after him, you scurry off the desk, and both of you internally curse that damn back brace and the power it holds over your heads.

likes & reblogs appreciated. old repost.

[sandwitchstories]

Uraume's Revenge

Hey hey everyone! Welcome back to another adventure in Mouse's Mini-verse! This time we get a glimpse into an hour in the life of Uraume! (Just think, the Poor thing as 24 of these things in a day! 🤣)

If you prefer to read it on AO3 click here !

WC: 1000+

Summary: After their plans for putting away the laundry are foiled, Uraume delights in the chance for a little playful 'payback' for Mouse's mischievous ways

AN: To anyone new to my Daddy Duty series- Mouse is Sukuna's two year old daughter. Welcome to Mouse's Mini-verse!

CW: Reader called Mama but not described, family fluff, toddler hijinks, Uraume and Mouse interaction centric, they/them Uraume, reader is only mentioned this time, its just fluff and humor, Sukuna is such a DILF

Uraume put their hands on their hips and sighed as they looked at the mess they had found. They had stepped away from the basket of clean linen for mere moments… And now the sheets it had contained lay strewn all about with neither basket nor laundry saboteur anywhere within eyesight of the scene of the crime. 

Shaking their head and grumbling to themselves about how much work children were, they set to work gathering up the sheets in their arms before setting off to find the basket. They were unsurprised when they found the stolen basket in Sukuna’s and your bedroom. Mouse dragged all manner of illicitly gotten goods back there to hide it. The little rodent was cunning enough to realize her own room would be the first place people looked for missing items and her father’s room would be the absolute last. 

None of them, Mouse included, were going to survive her teenage years at this rate. They shivered as an intrusive thought slid into their mind. And soon there will be TWO of them… With yet another forlorn sigh they tossed the load in their arms into the basket. 

A mischievous little giggle bubbled up from seemingly nowhere. Uraume straightened up and narrowed their eyes. They headed towards the closet. “Mouse! I heard you! Are you in here?”

The only response was another giggle. This went on for one or two more suspected location checks before Uraume knew for certain their instincts had been right from the start. The grubby handed little monster was hiding inside the wicker basket.

Uraume let a sinister grin curl their lips as an idea struck their mind. Just… a little payback. Before they could think wiser of it or change their mind, they bolted forward and snatched onto the sides of the basket. They shook and rocked it suddenly and vigorously before loudly saying, “Earthquake!!!!”

Mouse let out a shrill almost ear piercing scream before letting out a loud string of laughter. The demon seed popped up like a meerkat, shoving blankets off of her as she stood. “Urau-rau!! You got me!!”

“You deserved it, you little thief!” Uraume said, poking her in the nose.

To Uraume’s disbelief Mouse sat back down in the basket, held onto the sides and began to cheer while still laughing, “Again, Urau-rau! Again!! Earthquake again, please and thank you!!”

In what Uraume would later claim was a ‘momentary lapse in their disdain for the child,’ they gave in and grabbed onto the sides, once again shaking it and yelling, “Earthquake!!!!!”

“What’s going on in here?” Sukuna’s deep voice held a hint of amusement in it as it cut through the ruckus from across the room where he stood leaning against the open door. 

He had come down the hallway to investigate Uraume’s yelling and Mouse’s high pitched squeals. He had been concerned that his white haired companion had finally given in to their threats of toddler tenderloin, only to find Uraume actually playing with Mouse. 

Uraume dropped to one knee and bowed their head. “I apologize, Master Sukuna. I was doing the laundry when-”

Mouse chose that moment to spring upright and join the conversation. “We playing Earthquake, Papa! Get in, please and thank you!”

“Mouse - you really think I am going to fit in there?” Sukuna chortled.

She looked around the inside of the basket and scratched her head. “Maybe not.”

“Definitely not,” he echoed her.

Mouse turned and looked at Uraume. She reached over the basket to tap on the kneeling servant’s shoulder. “Excuse me, please and thank you, Urau-rau. Does we got a basket big enough for Papa so he can play Earthquake too?”

“We do not,” Uraume said, looking at Sukuna, eyes now pleading to be saved.

“I got an idea!” Mouse said with breathy excitement.  She began to try and clamber out of the basket, needing to be saved from falling over and then helped out of the basket onto steady ground by the annoyance filled Uraume next to her. “Thank you, Urau-rau!”

She leaned into the basket and began pulling out the linen. “Come get one, please and thank you, Papa!”

“What are you doing?” Uraume growled. “I just washed those!”

“It’s okay, Urau-rau. We no get them dirty, I promise!” Mouse smiled. 

“And just what are we going to do with these?” Sukuna said after crossing the room to humor his daughter and accepting the sheet.

“We gonna put it on our heads! And we gonna go find Mama!” Mouse said in a loud whisper with a devious grin on her face.”We gonna go ‘booooooo!’”

“That is not going to go over well with your mother or Uraume,” Sukuna said, not even wanting to fight that battle, he had lost enough of them around here lately. He tossed the sheet into the basket and grabbed his petulant faced child up by the back of her outfit before settling her in his arms. “We will be leaving now, Uraume. Come, Mouse, let's go find your mother.”

The basket, sheets and scaring you now completely forgotten, she made a happy noise and clapped. “Yeah! Let's go shopping, Papa!”

Uraume let out a soft chuckle as they began to put the sheets away. Maybe little Mouse wasn’t that bad. 

“Is there something you want to buy, brat?” Sukuna asked as they walked away.

“Uh huh! A basket big enough so Papa can play Earthquake too! Lets by that, please and thank you, Papa!” Mouse happily told him.

I take it back. She is that bad.

Sukuna’s voice was filled with mirth as it carried down the hallway after him and Uraume could clearly imagine the grin on his face as he spoke, “That’s a great idea, Mouse! Your mother loves to shop and I am certain Uraume will appreciate your thoughtfulness!” 

He’s worse… Like father, like daughter, I guess. Uraume smiled and shook their head as they stood with the now full basket in their hands and headed towards the linen closet to finally put these things away as they had started trying to do close to an hour ago. There was never a dull moment when serving the King of Curses and his family. Not one.

[uracutieraka]

Aizawa x F!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is an adult), smut

“H-ah! S’big!” Your knees are folded up to your chest as your old teacher is now plowing into you. He’s 15 years older than you. Just the thought had you moaning.

“F-fuck! This is,” he hisses at the way you clench down on him. “highly inappropriate.”

You moan even louder at his words, he goes to cover your mouth but decides not to when his name tumbles through your lips. “Shota!”

He allows a guttural moan to scratch its way from his throat. He leans off you, allowing your legs to fall out of the air. You wince at the strain of your legs muscles but you quickly forget all about it as he wraps your legs around his waist and tightens his grip on your hips.

His pace is suddenly fast and he’s thrusting so hard you can feel the bruises already forming on the underside of your thighs where his hips are repeatedly prodding into you.

Jumbled words are all thats coming out of your mouth as he leans over to trap you in a kiss.

How did you two end up here anyways? He tries to remember but he’s so lost in the feeling of you he cant.

“S-so happy you c-came, oh fuck, to my, birthday!” You say between moans. Oh thats right, your birthday. Your 24th birthday actually.

He grunts pushing his head into the crook of your neck and nipping at the skin.

You’re sweaty and growing tired from how good he’s been making you feel, the adrenaline slowly wearing off.

You gently run your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, grabbing onto them for support.

His hair is falling out of the bun he put it in before he went down on you earlier.

You feel a knot forming tight in your lower abdomen and can’t help but beg for him to go harder.

“G’nna cum again?” He asks, voice strained from his rough and quick pace.

“Yes!” You babble over and over the closer you get.

He had never thought of you in any type of way other than about how you were such a good student. The way you were always quick to help him with the annoying tasks nobody else wanted to help with, or how you would sometimes even bring him baked goods you made yourself! As a sign of your appreciation for him being such a nice teacher!

A scoff leaves his mouth as you reach your nth climax of the night. You shiver from his breath running down the side of your neck.

“You had this planned all along didn’t you? So sneaky.”

You nod your head up and down viciously as he continues to bully your poor cervix. He moans a bit and his thrusts get sloppier and slower.

After a few more moments of you digging your nails into his shoulders, surely leaving marks, and moaning out for each other he finally unravels himself.

It had been a while since he had been with anyone, and he had never been with an ex-student. The idea was too taboo for him to even think about, but here he was, in your bed fucking you dumb.

Rolling off of you, you both stare at the ceiling breath hard. You begin laughing and he lets his head fall to the side so he can look at you.

"What?" He asks. Curious as to what was funny, though he has an idea.

You now roll onto your side to look at him and he takes in the way you look. The thin sheet perfectly falls over your body, outlining the curve of your hip bone, and the moonlight that's shining through your window lights up your eyes. Messy hair frames your face and your lips are red and plump.

He had never seen you in this way until tonight. Sure he wasn't unaware you were considered an attractive person, in fact it was the opposite. It was hard to ignore it when you in your hero costume were plastered all over tabloids and tv as japans 'hottest new up and coming hero!' Though he'd just roll his eyes and walk away, after all it was weird to see his former student like that.

"It's just funny, you were like the hot teacher who I always had a crush on and now you're in my bed."

[alphajocklover]

Hey, so I just downloaded InstaJock, and for some reason, my pecs and especially my nipples have been feeling really sensitive lately. My hair’s been greying, and I have a strong urge to “feed the youth…” any idea what’s going on?

So you used InstaJock, an app that is supposed to change you into a jock instantly, but the change wasn’t instant, and now your hair is gray and you have an urge to… breastfeed? I’ll admit, out of the many, many weird things that happen involving that app, this might be the weirdest. Just to be clear, I’m not kink shaming. Pecs are my favorite muscle group myself, and I’d be lying if I didn’t find the concept of ‘muscle tits’ hot as fuck. What shocks me is that the guy who's been messing around with InstaJock is getting so… daring! Most people in the TF community wouldn’t dream of messing around with InstaJock, since it and the guy who created it are so dangerous, but whoever has been using it to mess with people seems to be exclusively using it. My best guess is that either they’re someone who worked on the app and still has access to it, or that they specifically want to mess around with The Master, or… both. That doesn’t leave a lot of people. I looked into the programmers, but that lead went nowhere, so I’m moving onto people who are personal enemies of The Master. Hopefully I’ll have some concrete answers soon. But for now, let's get back to you. 

From what you’ve described, I’m pretty sure that you’re transforming into a very specific kink. I could probably find a better way to say this, but I’ll just call it what it is: you’re turning into a  muscle Daddy with milky mega muscle tits. If you think my word choice was a little crass and kinky, then I should remind you that everything about this is kinky. I mean, the main focus of my work is men being turned into dumb jocks, what were you expecting to see? But I'm getting off track again, and you probably want the specifics of what is happening to you. The physical transformation is, surprisingly, the most simple part of what's happening. You’re becoming a classic Muscle Daddy, with slightly thinning salt and pepper hair, a respectable amount of body hair, and thick manly muscles that will have bubble butted twinks drooling over you. The only big difference between you and a classic Muscle Daddy is, while, your pecs. Or I suppose I could call them your tits, since that's what they are. They’re bigger and beefier than any pecs have any right to be after all, and with how they keep leaking milk, tits is the best word for them. Normally you’d probably be embarrassed if someone called your pecs titties, but for some reason the word itself seems to make you shiver with pleasure. Which brings me to the more complicated part: your mental changes. You’ve already experienced the beginning of your mental changes, your strange urge to ‘feed the youth.’ I’m afraid to say that that urge you mentioned, that strong desire that is already digging its way into your every thoughts? It’s only going to get stronger and stronger. It’s going to worm itself into your mind and fill every thought, until it gets so overwhelming that it's all you can think about, and it will only fade once you’ve found some unsuspecting, kinky twink to drink your titty milk.

That brings me to the most complicated aspect of your transformation. It's contagious. Anyone who drinks your tit milk will slowly transform into a pec obsessed muscle daddy, just like you. The good news is that after you’ve transformed someone you’ll start thinking properly, at least for a little while. But it won’t be long before both you and your latest victim are on the prowl for another man to convert. In a few months your group will have grown exponentially. However, there is some good news. While you will eventually become overwhelmed by your desirees, there is a way to calm them, and put off transforming anyone as long as you can. By milking your pecs, you’ll be able to relieve some of the pressure. Just make sure you dispose of your milk properly. And don’t drink it if you can. That could have some… unexpected consequences.

**I'll admit, this one is a little out there, but I enjoyed writing it! Muscle Tits are hot.**

[logans-whore]

Hello! I greatly enjoy the way you write your Logan x Reader oneshots ^-^

Seeing as you are begging for requests, here's one that I hope you enjoy ^-^

Imagine a boxer!Reader!

Reader who's got fighter's tape wrapped around her hands to protect her knuckles

Reader who begrudgingly lets Logan clean whatever wounds she may have on her knuckles once they start growing closer

Reader who's capable of sucker punching a grown man hard enough to make him stumble backwards

Reader who begins to fight harder, maybe even show off just a touch more so than usual when learning Logan's coming to see her fight in the ring

I am so sorry this took so long, my mental health has not been good.

I wholeheartedly believe that if you can kick his ass, the man is GONE. I'm talking head over heels, ass over tits, gone. He sees you in the gym boxing one day, and sees you floor a grown man with a single punch He gets so hard he has to hurry into the showers, take a cold one, and stare at the tiles for a good ten minutes, the image of you knocking that guy out seared into his brain. And the boxers tape wrapped around your knuckles? Holy hell he's having impure thoughts about that. Very, very impure thoughts. And you love it, love that he's not insecure about having a girl that can fight, like so many men aren't He'd show up for every match, always in the front row, yelling louder than anyone when his girl wins a fight. Logan would spar with you, and everytime you put him on his back, he gets a boner. Its worrying Its also very hot.

He'll clean up your bruised knuckles as pleased as punch, telling you how hot you looked, how perfect you are, how much he loves you.

When holding your hand he'd run his thumb over your knuckles, loving the scars and callouses, pressing a kiss to them whenever he can.

Yeah. Logan with a reader that boxes.

[thefixations-ofmine]

Mister June and the globetrotter

Bucktommy | 3.3k | Rated G (sexual inuendos) Entry for the @bucktommywinterfest, round 10 February 2-8: Tommy in the firefighter calendar and Buck 1.0 meets closeted Tommy This Idea comes from this post right here, with a twist. Note: Bold italics are texts. Dash changes POV, star cuts time.

Main Masterlist | Winter fest Masterlist | AO3

So, were you hoping for anything from this date? Buck reads the text, surprised. The person on the other end - who isn’t Jodie - has definitely been woken up at three in the morning on a Wednesday and wants to keep talking? Well, he’s bored and could use the distraction, considering he just lost a very good fuck opportunity, so he goes on in good-old Buck fashion;

Not really. I don’t ever give it too much thought. It’s just sex for now. Buck presses send and then realizes that makes him sound shallow. Pot meet kettle. He goes on to defend himself: I move around a lot, settling down isn’t in the 5-year plan. The little white lie reaches its destination, then he sets his phone down to get the shower started.

I see. I guess that’s fair and keeps people from having expectations. Has to feel lonely though, no?

Buck reads the messages and there’s a pinch in his heart he can’t control. Yes. ‘Yes’ is the answer but he’s never said that to anyone, even to Maddie because he doesn’t want her to fuss over him on top of everything else - much of the reason he’s running around is to stay out of people’s hair.

The only thing he can come up with is to be Buck, again – or rather this persona he’s allowing himself to be – so he takes a photo of his naked chest from a low angle and sends it with a caption: Wouldn’t be lonely if you wanted to join. 

He feels himself grow hard as a pavlovian response to the sexual chase, and his brain absentmindedly captures a few extra shots, one precisely showing his back in the mirror down to the dip of his ass crack and sends them. His thumbs linger over the screen to add another quirky line, but the dots on the other end appear, and disappear, and this goes on too long for his liking. Before he loses his entire rhythm, Buck decides to leave it at that and jump into the shower, the scalding water feels good on his back, his hand finds refuge around his dick, the comforting gesture sending a jolt up his back and his low hum carries the desperation of a long day.

-

Tommy’s body goes so warm when he receives the pictures he swears he can hear the AC start running in the room. One photo shows the dips and valleys of his abs perfectly, and Tommy loves that he’s not dried-out and cut either. Despite the very short attempts at flirting when he was younger, this was the first time he got such explicit pictures and his body shudders when he goes back down to the edge of the screen where a very apparent bush peeks barely.

The second photo breaks his composure but his hand is quick enough to shut off the groan that creeped up his chest. That kid (Evan - his name sits in the raunchy greeting at the top of the conversation) is giving him everything he wants and it’s pumping up blood around his body at an alarming rate. He studies the way Evan’s back arches against the counter and how Tommy’s thumbs would look amazing in those dimples, and fuck-

This is affecting him more than it should. He usually has to go digging through pages of porn to find a body he likes and he shouldn’t, but he lets himself linger a little too long for his liking. He shifts in bed, not entirely sure what to do or even what to say.

He wants to play along, ask for more, but the poor guy probably thinks he’s volleying with a pretty woman and Tommy’s a fan of not building expectations. And, well, nobody knows Tommy is gay, maybe not even himself entirely but the way his hands are getting damp feels like a very autonomous bodily response to him, so he has to do something about it. Or nothing at all. Pot meet kettle, again.

He needs to push himself to do so but Tommy sets the phone down on the little table next to his bunk and forces himself to wait this out as he tries to catch up on sleep. He usually has no trouble falling asleep, but he finds himself counting sheep this time. Or maybe it’s to keep the impending truth he was growing in his pants at bay.

A call comes in just before his alarm, twenty minutes before they would all be free to go home. Chim grunts from the bunk below, seemingly more aggravated by the situation.

“Rise and shine, superstar,” Tommy teases, grabs his phone and jumps into his boots before running to the truck. The call came from across town so he gets a few minutes to scroll through his aviation forums as the engine carries them out. When the screen turns on, a notification tag shows that Evan had sent him four texts during the night. He can’t say he has forgotten about him, the pictures still haunting his thoughts, but Tommy hadn’t come up with an escape plan either. He has a quick look around and holds his breath even though Chim and Hen are sitting across from him - from the way things were headed, he could definitely have a dick pic waiting for him. He lets his thumb unlock the screen.

Shit. I’m sorry. That was too much.I guess I was still in the mood, you know…Fuck, I shouldn’t say that either. I’m a douche.Anyway, um. I have to be up early to catch a flight. So maybe talk later?

Tommy grins stupidly and the breath he held comes out in a broken chuckle. Evan has to be in his twenties. Early twenties, even, because if the pictures weren’t indication enough, that rambling nailed the coffin. And Tommy does want to keep talking to him, for selfish reasons or to see how this pans out, he’ll have to figure that out, but he has to be honest about the situation, for Evan’s and his own sake.

So, he sends a few texts and puts the phone in his turnout, not expecting an immediate reply;

All good. I get the fun behind this.I need to be honest though, I’m a guy. My name’s Tommy. I’m 36 and a firefighter in LA. I’m still up for a chat, just thought you should know.So I’m sorry you sent those photos, but they’re safe with me.Oh! And I have a safe flight, Mr. Globetrotter. ;)

Tommy feels the vibration of hope as soon as the phone hits the bottom of the pocket, and his heart picks up a few beats per minute knowing he might have a text from... No, Tommy shakes his head, don’t go there. Not a second ago he was trying to convince himself this whole deal should be left to a short and silly conversation about a wrong number. The truck pulls up to their destination and he can focus on doing what he does best.

It’s only two hours later when Tommy can have another look at his phone, and his stomach flips when the notification on the screen is just a random email. He chuckles, really shouldn’t be that bummed out, he thinks as he opens their conversation. His thumb hits the three dots next to the number and he goes to add Evan’s name as a contact.

Yeah, he’s fucking done for.

*

Evan puts on the blue LAFP t-shirt and lets his hands run down his front, admiring the color on himself and it’s evident how hopeful he is for the road ahead. He starts the academy in less than a week and it’s nerve wracking, but Tommy has been sure to guide him through the steps like a great mentor. And it’s been great finding a reason to keep talking to him, finally. 

“Tuck in the shirt. I know it’s not the army, but they still care about little details,” Tommy says over the speaker as he watches Evan try on the uniform. He loves how eager he is. He’s already noted that down on his recommendation letter. When Evan had mentioned moving back to LA, things just clicked and Tommy was the one to start talking about the job.

“Uh, yeah. Th-thank you, Tommy.” Evan proceeds to fix the uniform and huffs proudly as he twirls in front of the mirror. Tommy still thinks the boy is in on the joke and is trying to see where his self-control will break, then Evan grabs the phone and smiles and Tommy knows he’d forgive Evan anything. “What would I do without you?”

“You want an honest answer?” Tommy says and they both laugh easily.

They facetimed once or twice, or maybe five times over the last weeks, and each time the conversation gets deeper and more genuine, and Evan doesn’t know it yet but him being careless about his sexuality is doing wonders for Tommy on his end of things. He had been more than okay with seemingly sending risky photos to a man, and he even complimented Tommy at large when he got a basic selfie back for a profile picture. There was still one thing to figure out;

“Want me to drive you to your interview?” Tommy offers boldly, only slightly regretting it. They hadn’t had the talk about meeting in person and that could be crossing boundaries. Maybe Evan saw the wince on his face just then because he starts giving him an excuse.

“My sister, um Maddie, she just moved to town also. We haven’t really seen each other in a while. I asked her to come with me.” Tommy nods and smiles. Still, he waits for the moment Evan realizes he’s being pushed against a wall, like Tommy is out to play some trick on him. “I’d much rather see you at my graduation. If you’d like. Of course, um, no pressure, I-”

“I will be there, Evan.” Tommy says the words calmly even if his mind screams of excitement. He promises himself to tell him he’s gay before then. Maybe even let the station in on it as well; if he wants to believe in chosen families, he’s going to need to be honest and open.

It’s five months. He can do it.

“O-okay. I gotta go. I have a few things to do before I get there.”

“I’ll see you around, Evan.”

“Honestly, I never thought I’d love to hear my name out loud so much,” Evan answers and dips his head down. Tommy melts when he does that. He wants to kiss the top of his head and tell him he’s being so adorable. Then Tommy wonders how Evan’s name would sound coming out like thick honey on his tongue as he moans and okay, Tommy needs to end this video call right now or risk embarrassing himself.

“Think of a nickname, then. I call dibs on your name,” he adds with a wink and ends the call.

Tommy goes back to his living room where a pile of paperwork waits for him. The forms to be recertified for flying had been in his office for months, maybe a year, and talking to Evan had made him realize that every dream deserves a chance. So when Tommy convinced Evan to join the firefighting academy, Evan had dared him to get into flying again. Then Tommy talked to Bobby, and things started to piece together like a puzzle. He’d be transferring to Harbor station just before Evan graduates, and perhaps Tommy used his charms and wits to make sure his empty spot was warm and ready for Evan to make his probation.

-

“Maddie, you don’t get it. I-I don’t want to make a bad impression!” Buck waves his hand around as he refills his sister’s coffee. He sits at the end of the table and prepares for the older-sibling advice to be laid on him.

“Evan, I’m not sure I understand, didn’t you just meet Tommy? Actually, you haven’t even met him.”

“Well, it’s been months now technically. The academy alone lasted five months! And-and he’s been there every step of the way, I just-”

“Okay, okay. But let me say that again. This is the first time you’ll see him in person, Evan-”

“Buck! Um- ha. Everyone at the academy called me Buck, and I think I like the nickname.” Maddie sighs, annoyed. But she smiles anyway and proceeds;

“Buck,” she says the name with a faint grimace, “I just want to make sure you’re not expecting too much. I mean it’s one thing to get along over the phone a few times a week. Maybe it won’t be as sugar-coated in person. I want you to know that.” Buck takes a sip of coffee and a bite in his bagel. A quick look at his watch: two hours left before the ceremony. He needs to iron his uniform and grow out some balls. And convince his sister that he’s not reading too much into it even if his stomach does a weird thing now - like when he eats something that disagrees with him - whenever Tommy says his name because it’s his to say and that perhaps he recorded one of their conversations so he could listen to it on repeat while he fucked some pent-up anger into his cheap fleshlight. Shit.

Maddie is right, this could all come crashing down. Buck never thought he would find such a connection with someone, but it seems so obvious now; Buck had never given anyone a flying chance at a conversation, let alone parts of his brain he had never exposed. He’s not certain what that says about him just yet, but he’d lie if he said he didn’t hope for this to pan out well. Knowing someone in the LAFD right out the gate will be detrimental, and hopefully the coffee dates will also be fun.

“Anyway, I appreciate this, Maddie. I do. He’s just a friend. Someone I can rely on and who’s made substantial efforts to help me. I need that in my life. Everything is so volatile.” Buck feels all lovey-dovey now, and he reaches for his sister’s hands. “And I need you. So tell me, how do you like LA so far?” 

-

Tommy fidgets. Tommy never fidgets. But he’s sitting on a little white wooden chair in the back rows of this open-field ceremony and his leg won’t stop bouncing and he’s biting the inside of his lips and he’s looking around frantically and… maybe Tommy does fidget now. The ceremony is about to start and he needs to get his shit together because Evan will be one of the firsts to come up alphabetically and Tommy knows he’ll be scanning the crowd for him. It doesn’t help that today of all day the sun decided to be a menace to humanity. His hands are damp and his collar scrapes around his neck and Tommy needs to remember that he’s not at an army boot camp and he’s safe and sound.

He looks at the gift he brought to ground himself, but he wonders if that or his eagerness might freak Evan out. Then again, he’s meeting the man who shamelessly sent him pictures bordering on nudes for the past month and he hadn’t returned the favour, so he hopes that this gift can bridge the gap.

“Why does this feel like some reality TV show and you’re about to meet someone your mom picked out for you?” Chim jokes beside him, obviously aware of his nerves. He pondered bringing someone with him, but this was a good idea - Buck would have his sister, so he could have support as well. Who better to take that spot than mister comic-relief himself.

Plus, Tommy had made some efforts on his end, as he promised himself, so he came out to the station over one of Bobby’s amazing dinners as well as letting them know about the transfer, reinforcing how proud and privileged he feels to be part of this house. Their acceptance and encouragement had both been amazing and heart-breaking, bringing Tommy back to his childhood and how he wished someone had hugged him the way Bobby did. Tommy didn’t cry often either, but he did that day.

“He hasn’t been picked out for me. It was a weird turn of events, Chim. We’ve been talking for months. It just… feels like it could work out.”

“Yeah, some like to call that fate!” Chim proclaims with a nudge of the elbow. Suddenly, some bells ring and both of them startle, dragging their attention back to the stage. Tommy sits up straight and glares at Chim when he feels his shoulders bounce against his.

*

Chim is chit-chatting with Evan’s sister as they all wait for him to come out of the building. Which he does, twenty minutes later and suddenly Tommy wishes he had taken longer. He needs to calm the hamster doing a marathon in his brain. He needs to go back home and wear more ample clothing and leave the goddamn gift on the kitchen island, but those long legs straddle quickly and Evan joins them before Tommy can even swallow his fears.

The itching on his neck comes back but Tommy is good at ignoring it. He bounces on his heels a couple times as they lock eyes and let the rest of the world fade around them. He knows Maddie says something cheerful to him, and perhaps Chim joined, but for now Evan is beelining towards him and Tommy’s mouth falls open.

“Hi, Evan.” He finds the courage to say.

“Hi,” he whispers before crashing his face against Tommy’s and backing them into the truck. The kiss is clumsy and heated and perfect. Tommy curses the damn gift in his hands as he can’t let them roam over Evan’s back the way Evan’s exploring his chest. They pull apart just before the rest of Tommy’s body could start to respond.

“Was, um. Was that okay?” Evan asks, eyes amorous and fixated on Tommy’s mouth. Tommy manages to look around then and finds their guests gleefully looking at them. He never wants to leave this bubble, but-

“I’m so sorr-”

“No.” Tommy realizes he hasn’t said a word. “No, fuck, that was. That was… how did you know?” Evan gives him a face then and the details of their conversations come crawling back, or maybe Tommy knows he wasn’t very subtle on the ogling despite being behind a screen. His body feels heavy and grounded and he wants his lips back on Evan’s.

“Listen,” Maddie chimes in. “It’s warm, and it’s just shy of happy hour. You guys wanna join us for beers?” Us? Oh. A double date? Yeah, Tommy can do with that to ease the nerves and get a more sensible conversation going. He nods, then turns to Evan.

“Y-yeah, that’s okay,” the young man answers and before he can head to the car Tommy grabs his wrist.

“I have this for you. Special graduation gift.”

“The firefighter calendar?” Evan looks perplexed despite the smile on his face.

“Well, I never sent any spicy photos back so… I’m mister June,” Tommy says. The knot in his gut tightens when Evan’s cheeks go flaming red and he chokes on a laugh.

“I promise to make good use of it!” Tommy and Chim start laughing and it takes a moment to register in his mind. He goes; “Oh, no! Not what I meant, I-”

“Please. I hope so.” Tommy can finally bring his hand to the back of his neck and close the space between them in another searing kiss. One that promises so much, yet leaves everything to be discovered. Chim whistles and that’s a good thing, because Tommy has years to catch up on and he’s not above using the spacious back seat of his truck.

tags: @weewoo911 @hmg621, @chococara25

[thewriterowl]

Okay miss owl but I NEED jealous Din not realizing Leia is lukes sister and going silently mad. He has successfully chased away all other “suitors”--lando, wedge, Paz, Axe, Boba, Han (who he hated most of all--or at least thought he did!) but Leia, Leia is where he meets his match. None of his usual scheming works because when he growls “stay away from the jedi” she just LAUGHS and laughs. He’s beside himself because this is it…Luke will leave mandalore with her and he’s lost his chance…then the reveal that actually she’s his twin sister happens and din looks to leia so confused/bewildered and leia is just SMIRKING (and to anyone who knew them both, she never looked so much like anakin as she did in that moment)

YES. That art was so good and Din would be so jealous and upset and confused because nothing he does gets the right reaction out of this woman.

Leia is just enjoying this too much to let it stop too soon. Besides, this is a great way to test this bastard to see if he's good enough for her stupid brother. Luke can get too lovesick and easy to manipulate; it's better to ensure he gets with someone who is pathetic over him but will also kill others for his sake.

Din really does fit it well. The man has fought off tons of other suitors, he doesn't just sit back stewing in jealousy (for too long), and the man is absolutely PATHETIC over Luke. It's amazing.

Still, just a few more days before he finds out...for now, she's gonna make him need to run around like a space-chicken with its head cut off because it amuses her (and he deserves it for making jealous assumptions and even daring to insult *her*)

She also never lets him forget it once everything is out in the open.

[pedricos]

hector fort prompt #8? x

Héctor Fort – don't cry, i hate it when you cry .ᐟ

a.n: its been so long since i wrote a angst, sorry if its not so good.. also, english is not my first language, srry for any mistakes

warnings: light angst, comforting ending, light suggestive joke at the end (1,4k words)

why were they so mean to you?

you meet your boyfriend way before him becoming a barcelona star.

you two were only six when you met, both your families already being friends for ages. you basically grew up together! he was your first crush at middle school, when you would watch his games when he was still so little. he was also, your first kiss.

before entering high school, you never had kissed anyone. you were painful inexperienced, but héctor was the one teaching you how to kiss properly, and being patient with you, no matter how many times you got the tongue timing wrong. you can almost get a laugh from the way he tells the story.

he asked you to be his girlfriend when you both were 15, so young and full of love and admiration already. he thinks you're the prettiest girl ever, and he never liked a girl this much before, and for you, he's the cutest guy! he's just so sweet and always made you laugh so much.

and by the eyes of everyone around you, you two were the cutest couple! just by knowing eachother so well for so long and having so much charisma together. it was a joy to see how much you love and the good you do to each other. his family loved having you around in the holidays, and yours always welcomed him so well on the weekends.

but suddenly, nothing you do is enough anymore. you can't even tell the moment you started to try and prove yourself to the others. and you know, if he wanted, there would be thousands of girls by his feet, waiting the right moment of your fall.

in the stadiums, the hysterical girls screaming his name to get his attention wouldn't even bat an eye at you, completely ignoring your presence; pushing you to the side to crowd him and ask for a photo, or for him to sign their shirts.

you let slide. maybe this time they didn't see you. right? it happenes!

then, his fans cut you out of the photo he posted, but kepts his non-player friends in it. its okay, right? it's a fan page for him and not for you anyways.

but when when you post a picture, they did the same things. obviously cropping your whole body out of the picture. the picture you liked so much because it's you, walking hand in hand, with your boyfriend by the beach of the aphrodisiac island you were visiting with his family.

you let slide the comments on your body.

“she deff gained a lot of weight 🤣”

⠀⠀⠀→ “is she pregnant???”

“why your body look like that lool”

“héctor deserves better smh”

⠀⠀⠀→ “he so doeeess!”

what does this have to do with the photo? it was just a sweet picture of you and your boyfriend sat side by side in a nice restaurant, the photo was taken by his parents, who sat parallel to you.

and everything suddenly became too much.

why did they hate you so much? was because they wanted to get to héctor? was something personal? what did you do besides being his long term girlfriend? were they mad that you're not a plastic, fake-blonde, face sculptured ig model who was with him just for his fame?

you were so much better than them and their fake white teeth.

héctor always complimented your natural beauty so much, he even gets mad seeing you compare yourself with these full edited ig models. you have such a natural aura, your little crooked smile, your natural light freckles, the little moles caused by the sun, your natural blush.

sometimes he would think you're the one that is too much for him. he loved you so very much, but was just as scared of loosing you to a better player. but you never thought that way, because he was the one for you.

since you were 15, he was the one. since you were 6 years old holding a little flower he picked up for you. since you were 12 crying because nobody but him showed up for your birthday party. he was the one to be always there.

and why now being with him was so hard since loving him is so easy.

you didn't even noticed when you started crying in the shower. the water running along with the tears, a mix of your sobs along with the water running. you just ducked your head under the shower, letting it clean away your sadness.

you came out of the shower just as sad as you came in, but what could you do? the evening was silent as you wondered around the house by yourself, héctor still training. you only put on your comfiest pajamas and layed down on your empty king bed.

“i'm home!” your boyfriend announced, only to find a dark living room. he was so used to have you on his arms as soon as he stepped back home. he took his shoes off, wondering if maybe you were in the kitchen; but nothing. just as dark and empty as the sofa.

“y/n? hermosa?” he enters the shared bedroom, eyebrows immediately frowning as he found you crying your heart out on the bed. your eyes were puffy and your nose a dark pink color, signaling that you've been crying for a good while now, “hey, it’s me, it's fine” he pulls you in a tight hug.

you could only burry your face in his chest, smelling his fragrance as you tried to control your breath, sighing repeatly, trying to catch your breath. “qué pasó? why are you crying?” he cups your face to have a better look at you. (what happened?)

your puffy eyes and cheeks, tears never stopping to roll down your face and your nose pretty pink; he could almost find you cute. you tried to explain why you're so sad but couldn't even stop crying, chocking on your own tears as they fell uncontrollably, “shh, breathe first!” he runs his hands up and down your back.

“why do they hate me so much?” is all you can verbalize before hiding your face on his chest once again, letting yourself cry out loud, “who’s 'they', princesa?” he reaches to grab your phone as it sat unlocked next to your pillow.

he almosts cry along with you. if his fans really loved him, why would they attack the person he loved the most? they had no reason to call you all this names, you were his princess, his little girl, not any of these bad words on your comment section.

he pulls away your body from his, fixing a loose strand of hair that sat on your face, putting it behind your ear. one of his hand find your cheek, caressing it so softly with his thumb. why do they hate you so much? he was so full of love for you, why would anyone hate on you?

“i’m with you, y/n. i’m with you because i love you so much and i chose you! i choose everyday since i was fifteen years old, and i didn't stopped loving you a day ever since!” he kisses your forehead, hand creeping to the back of your head, caressing your neck through your hair.

“don’t cry, okay? i hate it when you cry” his words make you realize how luck you are.

after all, you're the one he comes home to, you're the one he brought a ring you can only buy once in your life, you're the one he's waiting to marry since he was a kid.

“i even brought flowers and your favorites snacks to celebrate our anniversary.. but i don't know if you're hungry” he sounds so calm, but you can't help but blame youself for forgetting such an important day, “no preparé nada... lo siento” you wipe away your last few tears. (i didn't prepared anything.. sorry)

“i don't mind it, i just want to be with you” he pulls you for a sweet kiss. no fight for dominance nor lust, just love and caring. just the longing he felt the whole day, thinking about you every second, wanting to be home as soon as possible, just to be with you.

“i can make you cry more later.. happy tears" he gives you a smirk.

“héctor!” you laugh as you slap his chest.

he's right here, with you.

check out my masterlist .ᐟ

i have such a annoying migraine rn, but ill try to write some more requests!! 🥹

i will be re-opening the requests soon!! bye bye, hope u like it 💋

[cloverapple]

hello!! just wanna say I've discovered your blog and it's been incredibly helpful. thank you so much for all the effort you put into your posts they're very insightful :)

my 'problem' so to speak is simply belief. any ways to get around that?

no matter how much I try to change perspective/mindset, reinforce positive beliefs and/or assume, I feel like I'm gaslighting myself :') and i simply find it hard to get rid of that/not let it consume me.

some eg of my thinking:

'shifting is real' -> no you're being delusional.

'it's possible for me' -> girl it'll never happen stop lying to urself.

'i trust myself' -> ok but not with extreme things like shifting!! you're being hopeful for nothing!

'i can shift, it's natural and inherent' -> stfu assumptions never do anything. it's not. you can't. you never will.

'i believe in and accept loa/shifting as real' -> right!! you are crazy. none of your assumptions came to fruition both good nor bad.

'im going to shift' -> liarrr you would've done so by now.

'not everyone would be lying, its real' -> you've fallen for cult tactics don't believe anyone.

'let go, don't put pressure on it's -> you've done this for years, nothing will change. you'll never shift.

...I don't need to go on. it's so exhausting. constant loops of it.

I hope you understand how exhausting it is and how strongly I want to overcome this 😭 I tell myself it's ok, this can't stop me but alas they continue and become overbearing so I end up ultimately succumbing into believing them. and every time I sit down and shift, I basically don't believe I will.

any advice? I'd be so so grateful for any help and thank you for your time <3

Stop ❌ crossing the bridge of despair and hop onto the carousel of reason 🎠

'shifting is real' -> no you're being delusional. -> "My doubts don’t erase reality. If I can question it, I can also prove it to myself. And I will."

'it's possible for me' -> girl it'll never happen stop lying to urself. -> "Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t. The possibility exists, and I am aligning with it."

'i trust myself' -> ok but not with extreme things like shifting!! you're being hopeful for nothing! -> "I’ve trusted myself in things I once thought were impossible before. Shifting is no different. I am capable, even if my doubts try to convince me otherwise."

'i can shift, it's natural and inherent' -> stfu assumptions never do anything. it's not. you can't. you never will. -> "Doubts are just old conditioning. My body and mind already know how to shift. I don’t have to force what’s already natural."

'i believe in and accept loa/shifting as real' -> right!! you are crazy. none of your assumptions came to fruition both good nor bad. -> "Skepticism is normal, but so is change. Just because I haven’t seen every result yet doesn’t mean my assumptions hold no power."

'im going to shift' -> liarrr you would've done so by now. -> "Progress isn’t measured by how fast it happens. I am shifting at my own pace."

'not everyone would be lying, its real' -> you've fallen for cult tactics don't believe anyone. -> "Reality shifting has existed for thousands of years across different cultures. If generations of people have explored states of consciousness, why would I be the exception? It’s real, and I am capable of experiencing it just like they did."

'let go, don't put pressure on it's -> you've done this for years, nothing will change. you'll never shift. -> "My past doesn’t dictate my future."

I know it’s repetitive to hear, but persist, persist, persist. Any time these thoughts pop up, say “not today satan” and immediately combat it with different affirmations. Do this until the natural occurence to these unavory assumptions you have about yourself are the positive ones.

★ They don’t even have to be the ones I came up with here. Find ones that your mind immediately absorbs and accepts easily.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: A Psychonauts 2 fic cover featuring Oleander and Loboto. Loboto is lying on the examination table in Sasha's lab, pushing himself slightly upright with his prosthetic arm so he can glare at Oleander. Oleander, meanwhile, is sitting on top of Loboto, arms crossed as he glares back down at Loboto (though his false eye is out of focus). The title of the fic, Dentist-Sitting, is above them. /end ID]

Fandom: Psychonauts Rating: K Genre: Humor (but some serious moments too) Characters: Morceau Oleander & Caligosto Loboto (with Sasha and a few others appearing briefly) Warnings: None. Fic Description: While everyone else heads off on the much-more-exciting casino mission, Oleander is left at the Motherlobe with a mission of his own: keep an eye on Loboto while Sasha is gone. Beta Readers: @jaywings and @pinkygrocket (also thanks to @eggityeggs for rendering my fic cover!) Notes: I tweaked the layout of the Motherlobe slightly here. (You cannot convince me they have only one bathroom.) Also, this contains references to some of my other Psychonauts fics, but you don't need to have read those to understand this.

---~~~---

Oleander charged through the atrium as he made a beeline for the lobby. It wasn't time to leave just yet, but he didn’t care. When was the last time he'd gotten to go on a mission—er, aside from earlier today, when he'd helped infiltrate Loboto's mind, and before that, when he'd gone with everyone to the Rhombus? Those had felt like exceptions—Sasha and Milla still wanted to keep a close eye on him while they finalized things at headquarters, so he had to come along. Not that he complained. Heck, if this probation thing meant he'd have to get dragged along on missions, then it couldn't be too bad, right?

Of course, Sasha and Millla hadn't exactly gotten everything cleared with Truman and Forsythe yet, given the more pressing mole situation. Bad as that was, could anyone blame him for jumping at the bit to see some real action again? And this would be the real deal if they let him come along, not just dragging him along because they had to. If Forsythe didn't show up—which she wouldn't—he'd get to step in and take her place!

Hurrying out the front door, he turned toward where the jet was parked, only to skid to a halt.

Forsythe was there, along with all the interns.

"...and I thought, you know what, Agent Vodello was right!" Agent Forsythe exclaimed. She was far more peppy than usual, and he couldn't blame her. "This would be an excellent earning—uh, learning opportunity for our interns!"

"I agree. So long as they stay out of trouble, there should be little issue here," Sasha said with a nod. "I'm glad you're joining us."

As Forsythe turned to guide the interns onto the jet, Sasha prepared to enter as well. Oleander bit his lip and rushed up to Sasha before the jet could pull him in.

"Room for one more?" he asked, punctuating his words with a smile.

"Ah, Morry." Sasha turned to face him. "Agent Forsythe changed her mind and will be accompanying us on the mission, so your presence won't be necessary."

Oleander's heart sank, and he swallowed back the old bitterness that worked its way up his throat. "...Right. Well uh... good luck, Nein." With that, he began to turn back toward headquarters.

"...Actually."

And Oleander spun on his heels, eyes wide and heart leaping.

Sasha was looking to the side with one hand to his temple, probably in conversation with Milla. After a moment, he nodded, then looked back at Oleander. "There is something we could use your help with."

"You name it!" Oleander cried, a wide grin stretching past his mustache. "What do you need me for—need an extra agent to spy on someone? Need me to stick around for backup? I'm there!"

"As I said before, your presence won't be required here."

Oleander's smile dropped.

"However—"

And he perked up again, leaning toward Sasha eagerly.

"There's something I would like your assistance with here at the Motherlobe."

"Oh." Once again Oleander deflated, but pointed toward Otto's lab with a grin. "I mean, if you need help with the Motherlobe's defense system, I'm sure Otto and I could—"

"I need someone to keep an eye on Loboto while I'm gone."

"Wait—that's it?!" Oleander cried. "You're putting me on babysitting duty?!"

"I am putting you in charge of a dangerous criminal who happens to be one of the few people to possess knowledge of the mole's identity." Sasha massaged his forehead. "I sedated him for the time being, but there's no guarantee it will last for the entirety of my absence, and I have found no one willing to watch him while I'm gone."

"Ugh. Still not a particularly glamorous—"

"Morry, this is not about glamour." Sasha took a step closer, and Oleander took a step back in surprise. "People's lives are at stake. We still have yet to determine what's happened to Truman, and we may not know until we discover the identity of this criminal."

"R-right, yeah." Oleander tugged at one of his gloves. "Sorry, just got caught up in the—" He shook himself, straightening his stance. "Very well! I accept this mission, Agent Nein. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Good." Sasha put a hand to his temple again, and a telekinetic hand reached out from the ship. "Be sure to report to me if you learn anything from him, should he awaken or say anything of interest in his sleep." The hand grabbed him, carrying him up and into the jet. "Good luck, Morry."

"Same to you, Nein."

Oleander offered a salute before turning back toward the Motherlobe. As the jet lifted off behind him, he heaved a sigh, glancing over his shoulder to watch it go.

So much for that mission… and that reasonably-priced buffet.

His stomach growled.

"Well, Noodle Bowl it is, then."

Stepping into headquarters with much less energy than when he'd left, he made his way back to the atrium and then to the Motherlobe's cafeteria. His mind bounced back and forth over what kind of salad he wanted today as his eyes scanned the menu. Briefly, he tried to recall which one Milla had recommended to him a while back, only for his mind to drift back to Sasha, wondering if he'd bothered to eat before the mission. Probably not, knowing him.

...Which probably meant Loboto hadn't eaten either.

"You gonna order or what?"

Oleander blinked, realizing he was at the front of the line. "Er, yes! One cucumber salad, and uh..." He glanced over the menu again—his eyes lingered on the salads before hesitantly drifting over to the other items on the menu. He winced. "And one hamburger. Two waters."

As the chef watched him slide his card through the reader, she raised her brow at him. "Change your diet, now, Oleander?"

"No, no," he replied, waving his hands in protest. "Just picking up lunch for um... someone else."

"Right, got it..."

Not long after, he found himself carrying a plastic salad box with a greasy cardboard hamburger box placed on top, and holding them at an arm's length while he carried the waterbottles under one of his arms. "Eeeughh," he said, tongue sticking out and nose wrinkling at the scent of greasy ground beef. He'd never actually seen Loboto eat, even when the two of them worked together, but he hoped this would be good enough for him. If not, he'd have to deal with it—he wasn't paying for some other crummy meal.

He nearly stepped into his office before remembering where he was supposed to go, and turned to Sasha's lab instead. The various fancy blinking consoles—half of which he was pretty sure Sasha didn't even use—greeted him, as did the loud snores coming from the lanky figure on the examining table.

"Huh," Oleander murmured, stepping up to Loboto to look him over. He was curled up on his side, out like a light for all Oleander could tell—his creepy robot eyes were definitely unlit, anyway—and his snores were occasionally broken up by incoherent mumbling.

After standing by the doctor for a few moments to be sure he wasn't suddenly going to spring awake, Oleander made his way into Sasha's office area, tossing the hamburger box and one of the water bottles onto the coffee table. The box left a splat of grease beneath it, and he winced, nudging it further away with his own water bottle. He took a seat on the couch, eyeing the greasy box as though expecting it to sprout legs, and scooted slightly further away. From there he began to dig into his salad—cucumber was definitely the right choice—as he kept an ear out for whatever Loboto was doing. Which was still sawing logs. Was he really just going to be out for the entire time? What on earth did Sasha use on him, anyway? Man, he should have brought a book or something...

As Oleander finished the last few bites of his meal, he heard a few quick snorts from the lab, followed by some more frantic mumbling. Setting his empty box aside, he stepped back into the lab, eyeing Loboto.

"No, no no. I won't," the oversized dentist mumbled, one of his legs jerking in his sleep. "I won't, I won't..."

Sasha had said something about Loboto talking in his sleep, hadn't he? "You won't what?" Oleander prodded, raising an eyebrow.

"Won't tell..."

"Ugh, of course you won't." Rolling his eyes, Oleander turned back toward the office.

"W-won't tell them... what the doctors said..."

"What?" Oleander spun back around, brow furrowed in confusion.

But Loboto only shuddered before settling back into snores.

Doctors, huh? That was new. He made a mental note to let Sasha know later, if he didn't already... not yet, though. Oleander stepped closer. "What did the doctors say?"

Loboto snorted. "No, no... Dad said I couldn't tell..."

All right, so it wasn't anything about the mole or the kidnapping—this was just some dream about a childhood memory. Nothing useful for him.

I'll show you what little bunnies are used for—

Oleander jerked in surprise, smacking himself in the head a few times. Nope, no, none of that. He was definitely done with those nightmares and he didn't need his mind reminding him of them. It didn't stop his heart from hammering against his ribs, and he shook his head, hurrying back to the office to grab his bottle of water. He guzzled it down, hopefully swallowing his anxiety with it.

"No, no, no, get away—AH!"

CRASH.

Hacking up water that had just gone down the wrong pipe, Oleander stumbled back into the lab, finding Loboto lying face-first on the floor next to the examining table and groaning. "Geez," Oleander wheezed, and cleared his throat. "You gotta make my job harder for me, don't you?" With that, he gently TK'd Loboto back onto the table, letting him sit upright.

Loboto swayed where he sat, optics flickering and moving sluggishly, zooming in and out, but ultimately remaining unlit. Without warning, he reached up and smacked his own robotic eyes a few times, and they finally flickered on, like Christmas lights attached to a Halloween decoration. They adjusted a few more times before locking onto Oleander. "You?" Loboto cried. His voice was slightly slurred. "What're you comin' back to me for? I'm not buildin' you anoth'r tank..."

"Take it easy, Cal, I'm just here to watch you."

"Watch me what...?" His eyes darted in one direction, then another, his head lagging behind with the movement. "I don't have a patient for the... operating theater..." He swayed again where he sat, looking in danger of toppling back over the side of the table again.

Boy, he had not signed up to deal with a half-drugged dentist. Was this a side-effect of whatever Sasha had used on him, or...?

Something occurred to Oleander, and he rushed back into the office, returning with the greasy box and water bottle, which he set on the examining table.

Loboto's eyes locked onto the items. "What's this?"

"Some rations," Oleander replied. "When's the last time you ate?"

For a moment the dentist's eyes began moving around again, crossing a few times as he tried to process the question. "Orange," he finally said with a definitive nod.

Oleander was about to protest that that wasn't what he'd meant, but stopped himself; there wasn't much of a point in arguing with someone who could barely hold a conversation at the moment. "Well, this is lunch. Have at it."

Hesitantly, Loboto reached out with his claws, poking the box a few times before the lid popped open. His optics zoomed in on the hamburger. "...not fish, is it?"

"Uh, no. It's a hamburger, not a fishburg—"

Loboto shoved the entire thing into his mouth before Oleander could finish. He looked away, holding his hands in front of his face as he listened to Loboto ravenously chomp the thing down. "You're welcome," he grumbled. "You'd better not make yourself sick from eating that so fast, or Sasha will have my head."

Once Loboto had guzzled his water down, Oleander finally looked back at him. He seemed somewhat more alert now, whether from receiving nourishment, or said nourishment helping him wake up from his goodness-knows-what-induced daze. Or maybe both. "Feeling any better there, Cal?"

"No. This place has terrible room service! I never got breakfast. Terrible room in general, too." He whacked his prosthetic limb against the padded table with a thunk. "No wonder I fell off this thing."

Maybe it would've been better if he'd stayed unconscious. "Well, you're not exactly here for your own comfort."

"Oh, are you here to interrogate me, too?" His claw gripped the thin padding of the table, digging into it. "I never said a word to that nicotine-addicted ninny. What makes you think I'll talk to you, little army man?"

"I'm not here to interrogate you, just to keep an eye on you." Oleander paused, rubbing his chin. "Though that's not a bad idea. I could ask you a few questions—"

"Or I could just make a run for it." And Loboto swung around to leap off the other side of the table, only to faceplant yet again. He smacked his hand against the floor. "Stop makin' the room spin."

Rolling his eyes, Oleander TK'd Loboto back onto the table, laying him down this time. "That wasn't me. Looks like you've been Sasha's guinea pig of the day."

Loboto's optics spun in slow circles for a few moments before coming back into focus. "Yes. I think we've got the positions wrong," he said, pushing himself into a seated position. "I'm not the subject. I'm the one who runs the experiments!"

"Not now you ain't," Oleander said, gently nudging Loboto back down onto the table with a telekinetic poke. "Lie down."

"Nnnghh!" Loboto flailed his arms, trying uselessly to grab at the transparent hand holding him down. "No! I won't! You're due for a wisdom tooth pulling!"

A vision flashed through his mind of those red-and-green lights gleaming down at him from the darkness while a claw brandished at him. Are you actually going to help me with this project or am I going to have to test it on you instead?

Oleander’s TK hand grabbed Loboto around the chest, yanking him off the table with a choked squawk. Oleander kept one hand held out in a fist, the other on his temple as he eyed the dentist. "You gonna cooperate here, or are we gonna do things the hard way?"

Loboto glared down at him, eyes flashing.

"We're not partners anymore, Cal," he growled. "I don't gotta put up with you."

Loboto flinched, but remained quiet. Oleander eased him back onto the table, where he lay calmly, even when Oleander removed the hand. After nodding in approval, he turned around, TKing a desk chair from Sasha's office over to the table—like heck he was going to stand here the entire time.

As he pulled the chair over, it struck him suddenly that, while no, he and Loboto weren't working together now, they had in the past. As in three days ago. Technically, Oleander hadn't even heard an official decision for what the Psychonauts would do with him, after all that he'd done—which was, namely, working with a criminal, abducting both campers and his fellow agents, hypnotizing a civilian (and a fish), and stealing brains in an attempt to take over the world. Now, he'd been left to watch over the very criminal he'd been working with only a few days ago.

Had this been a mistake? Or was Sasha...

"Were you satisfied with the tanks, at least?"

Flashes of a monstrous tank of plant and stone roared into his memory, and he spun around to glare at Loboto. That wasn't the tank the dentist was referring to, but after Nein, Vodello, Cruller, and Raz had all dragged him through his mental worlds, well...

"I'm not talkin' about that right now."

Lifting his head, Loboto's permanent grin widened. "You should've gone with my original plan. That would've been much more effective."

"Yeah, I said I'm not talkin' about it." He hopped up onto the desk chair, his gaze fixed on one of the flickering consoles on the other side of the room.

"You could at least talk about payment. You never paid me my last paycheck. Or the one before that. Or any of them." Loboto's claw dug into the padding of the table again. "You think we just grow food at the asylum?"

"What asylum?" Oleander muttered bitterly, glancing back at him.

Loboto's grin suddenly twisted. "Oh. I'd forgotten it had gone down in flames." His optics began to flick around the room nervously.

Oleander opened his mouth, nearly asking how Loboto knew about that when it had happened after he'd been blasted out the window, but cut himself off—he didn't want the guy to think that had been anything to do with him (though the plan had been to... be rid of Loboto in some fashion). "Yeah, was a heck of a battle there," he said instead. "What happened to you, anyway? Why'd you run off?"

"What do you take me for, one of those tumorous rats that scurry away from bright light?" His eyes snapped over to Oleander. "I was blasted out the window by the test tank!"

Leaning back, Oleander raised his brows and placed a hand on his chest in hopes of looking as though this was his first time hearing that information. "Blasted out the window?" he repeated in the best shocked voice he could muster. "How'd you survive that?"

The corners of Loboto's mouth twitched. "Oh, I have plenty of talents other than dentistry and brain surgery, you know... some that can surprise even me."

"Was it your talents? Or that other client you didn't tell me about?"

"Oh no you don't!" Loboto crossed his arms, turning his head away. "I'm not talking about that!"

"Yeah, and I don't want to talk about our work either." Oleander grunted, leaning back in the chair. "Guess we're even."

The two were silent for a moment, aside from the twitching of Loboto's mechanical eyes. Slowly they turned to look back at Oleander. "...Where's that tall man gone, anyway?"

"Sasha?" Oleander shrugged. "He's out on a mission."

"Oh?" Loboto eased himself up on his arms, grinning again. "You mean like the kind of missions you told me they liked to leave you behind on?"

Oleander's hands clenched around the edges of the chair.

"Isn't that the reason for your whole take-over-the-world scheme? Getting left out?"

He wasn't wrong. It hadn't been the entire reason, but it was... part of it. "We're getting it worked out," he said through grit teeth.

"Yes, by continuing to do the same thing to you as before!" Loboto cried, sitting up on the table. The action made his optics spin for a moment, but he shook himself. "Sounds like you've been tossed back to square one."

"I haven't been tossed anywhere."

"Anywhere other than aside!" Loboto swung out his arm. "Tossed aside like a used plastic cup!"

"Pipe down, Cal!" Oleander snapped, but the dentist only turned to swing his legs over the edge of the table, leaning forward.

"You know, if we were to, perhaps, sneak out of here and work together again, I could help you—"

Loboto was held in a telekinetic hand again before Oleander realized he'd even summoned it. He found himself in a psychic stance atop the desk chair, glaring at the dentist as he held him firmly in his telekinetic grip. Apparently it was a bit tighter than he'd intended, as Loboto was struggling now, eyes darting around frantically and mouth twisting, but Oleander didn't loosen his grip just yet.

He wanted to tell him no. He wanted to tell him he'd never consider an offer like that again, never even think of betraying everyone again.

But he'd be dowsed if the thought didn't cross his mind after Forsythe took his place on the mission.

It was that same feeling as before, when he'd put in requests for a mission assignment and be told no, that he'd be assigned camp duty again. When he'd be assured just how important camp duty was, how he was better suited for it. When he brought up other ideas, like the projects he'd brainstorm with Otto, or even the blueprints for the battle bot he'd drawn up to fight Maligula, and Forsythe turned him down.

In the back of his throat he could still taste the bitterness bubbling up, threatening to spill out all over again.

But it hadn't been that long ago that he'd been dragged back through his own mind, and they'd talked through all of this, talked through everything, and this wasn't really the answer, and he knew it wasn't, but he just wanted to help, he just wanted to be able to help again—

Slowly he became aware of a choking noise, and snapped back to reality to find Loboto still in his telekinetic grip, his face turning pale. "GEEZ!" Oleander cried, reeling back, remembering too late he was stupidly standing on a chair.

Oleander crashed backward the same moment he released Loboto, who dropped back down onto the table, gasping for air. "OKAY!" Loboto choked out. "Okay, you don't want to be partners! I get it!"

Groaning, Oleander pushed himself back up to his feet. "Yeah, uh, thanks for the offer, Cal, but no." When he looked back at Loboto, he was surprised to see the dentist wrapping his arms around himself and trembling. Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, didn't mean to grab you that hard."

"I'm sure!" Loboto glared down at him. "Well, it's no loss for me. I wouldn't want to work with a sneaky psychic short stack like you again, anyway!"

Oleander glared back. "Now hang on, just 'cuz you're so freakishly tall doesn't mean—"

"Silly small simpletons ceaselessly see to stupid schemes!" he went on in a sing-song voice.

Oleander dragged his hands down his face. Why had he let this guy wake up? "Knock it off," he muttered.

In response, Loboto flicked the greasy hamburger box across the room to smack into his face.

With a cry of revulsion, Oleander wiped at his face and shot another look at Loboto. "You know that's not what I meant!"

"Oops, sorry." Loboto chucked the empty water bottle instead, which bounced harmlessly off Oleander's helmet.

He gave the dentist a deadpan look. "...I can see why Sasha had such a hard time finding anyone else to watch you." Sighing, he climbed back onto the chair.

"It's no surprise! I'm quite the intimidating person." Which wasn't a lie, but Loboto looked less intimidating as he kicked his feet, the heels of his freakishly long legs scraping the ground. It was a far cry from how he'd appeared at Thorney Towers, or how he must have looked to Raz when he—

Oleander paused. "...Hey, didn't that kid poke around your head?"

Immediately Loboto whipped his arms over his head, pressing his shower cap down. "No more of that," he growled. "You should be next, though, since you apparently forgot you were one of the ones who charged into my mind too!"

"No, I mean back at the Rhombus. I gave him the Psycho-Portal to use." He narrowed his eyes at Loboto, looking him over. "He dove into your mind, and we lost contact. What-all happened in there?"

"No!" Loboto snapped, drawing his legs back up onto the table as he tugged on his shower cap. "It's none of your business!"

"Hate to tell you, Cal,"—he didn't—"but it's official Psychonauts business."

"Ah!" Loboto slammed his hand and prosthetic down onto the table again, giving him a sly grin. "But you're not one of those at the moment, are you?"

"Wh—I never said that!" Oleander clenched his fists. "Where do you get that from?"

"Mmmmaybe the fact that you were left out of an official Psychonauts mission!" He casually dug between his teeth with one of his claws. "Just a hunch."

Oleander ground his teeth, finding himself wondering if it was too late to find someone else he could switch with. Yes, he was technically supposed to be evaluated before getting put on probation for a while, but that wasn't anything this bozo needed to hear about.

Dislodging a sesame seed from between two teeth, Loboto flicked it away and then gently tugged at his lip in thought. "Funny how they'd let a traitor like you back into their fold. But I suppose you can't fault psychics for acting erratically." His mouth twitched.

The word traitor hit him in the gut harder than the dismissal of psychics, and he found himself looking away. "Look, what happened with me ain't none of your business, Cal."

"What happened with me is none of your business, either, but you psychics have this funny misconception that everything is!"

"Maybe not." Oleander rubbed a knuckle against his chin in thought. "But I can't help but notice... you did let us go."

Loboto gave a jolt, his smile strained. "Of course! I can do whatever I want!"

Oleander raised an eyebrow at him. "So you let us go and blow up your own base? Sounds a bit counter to your plans."

"No! It's not!" He wrapped his arms around his chest, his mechanical eyes twitching every which way. "It followed my exact plan very specifically!"

"Really? Your plan for your employer who's working against the Psychonauts?" Oleander asked.

Loboto made a strangled sound, sitting up rigid, his mouth a tight line.

Sitting up, Oleander found himself grinning. Maybe this won't be such a waste of time after all... "Pretty nice of you to let us in on the details of your employer's scheme."

"No! No! I didn't!" Loboto cried, voice suddenly hoarse.

"Sure you didn't," Oleander went on, tapping his helmet. "Just like I don't have a memory vault of what you just said right in my noggin."

"NO! That wasn't it!" Loboto cried desperately. "I didn't say anything about their plan!"

"Sorry, Cal, but that was your own slip-up, there." He placed a hand to his temple to send a message to Sasha. "I'm sure Sasha'll be happy to know—"

"NO! DON'T!" Loboto jumped to his feet, preparing to step toward Oleander, only for his legs to give out on him again. He crashed to his knees, holding his head in his hands and trembling. "It was my idea! Not my client's! It had nothing to do with it! Don't let my client think I said anything, they'll have me drowned...!"

Wincing, Oleander leaned away from the dentist. Part of him almost felt bad for the guy—it would've taken something truly terrifying to scare Loboto like this. "Okay, okay, geez." Gently he TK'd him back onto the table. "Fine, so it wasn't your client's plan. But that just means you let us go on your own."

"Yes! Yes, I did!" he said, nodding vigorously as he began to calm down. "All my idea. Part of a plan beyond your feeble-minded comprehension!" He let out a laugh, sounding slightly unhinged.

"Did your plan also involve you getting captured?"

Loboto grunted. "No. That was part of you psychics ruining everything for me!"

Oleander sighed. "Yeah, sure." Drumming his fingers against the side of the chair, he looked away. "...You don't feel any different, though?"

"I feel a lot worse after what that oversized German celery stalk did to me."

"No." He looked back at Loboto, staring him in his weird robotic eyes. "I mean... after that kid entered your mind."

Whipping his arms around his chest again, Loboto turned his optics away. "I told you, that's not any of your business."

"...All right, fine."

An uncomfortable silence hung between them, only broken by the chirping of computers and the scratching of Loboto's claws against the table's padding.

"I take it he dove into your brains too?"

Startled, Oleander gave a jolt. "Wait, how do you know...?"

"You just told me." Loboto's grin grew a fraction wider, and Oleander groaned internally. "You also seem a bit less keen on the whole taking-over-the-world thing."

"...Yeah." He scratched the back of his head. "I am."

"That's a shame. You were more fun that way."

"I don't care what's fun for you!" Oleander snapped, wishing very much that he would stop remembering how fun it had been to make those tanks, and how fun building stuff was in general, and how Hollis wouldn't fund any of it—

"Ah, so the Psychonauts don't allow any sort of fun." Loboto's optics swirled to take in the room. "What a surprise!"

"I never said that," Oleander grumbled. "Going on missions is fun."

"Which you're not allowed to do!"

"Not right now I'm not. But later."

Loboto tapped his claws against the padding on the table again. "Hmm... I've got a mission for you."

Oleander resisted the urge to run a hand down his face. "I don't think you got the authority to issue those." He leaned his head on his hand, realizing he was bored enough to wonder what on earth Loboto was planning to offer him. "What is it?" he asked, and before Loboto could answer, he added, "No taking-over-the-world business!"

Loboto's face scrunched up in an approximation of a frown. "I wasn't gonna say that! Have a little more faith in me, General!"

"Yep. Sure have reason to do that."

With a grunt, Loboto glanced away. "Take me to the facilities, would you?"

"Which facility?" Oleander raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you're stuck here, but now I'm wonderin' what kinda base you think you could get transf—"

"The facilities, you numbskull!" Loboto snapped.

"Wuh—oh." Oleander rubbed his hand over his face. "You didn't have to word it so dramatically. Some mission..." Shaking his head, he stepped closer to the table. "If you're not good to walk, I'm carrying you."

"No thank you." Slowly Loboto eased himself off the table and onto his feet. "Keep your silly psychic mitts away from me." He was a little unsteady, but not in danger of falling flat on his face like he had earlier.

Well, he'd have to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't collapse on the way there, but he'd deal with it. "Lucky for you the closest one isn't far off. C'mon, forward march." Waving a hand, he headed toward the doors, and glanced back to make sure Loboto was following. While he was struggling to walk in a straight line, he was walking, so that was good enough for him.

They made it out of the lab and into the hallway, which was clear for the time being. Between some of the other employee offices and the aquarium were the nearest restrooms. "There's an aquarium a bit further down—sure you've seen it when Sasha was hauling you out here," Oleander remarked. He stopped in front of the doorway marked "Restrooms," where three doors (men, women, and family) stood beyond. "Maybe I'll let you take a look at it if you decide to behave and don't—"

Oleander glanced over his shoulder, only to do a double-take and spin completely around. Loboto was nowhere in sight.

"...run off on me."

Okay, he should've seen that one coming. With a growl, he charged further down the hallway, though inwardly his heart pounded at the thought that Loboto really could get away. That would be the end of being in the Psychonauts for him. Fortunately, it didn't take long to find the nine-foot-tall dentist prancing toward the atrium like a lame antelope. One swipe of a TK hand was all it took to snag him, and he let out an enraged squawk.

"Let me go!" Loboto howled, squirming and kicking against the restraints.

"Not on your life," Oleander growled, and hauled him back toward Sasha's lab. "You wouldn't have made it far anyway."

"You don't understand—!" Loboto wailed. "I can't stay here!"

"Wanna bet?" They were back in the lab, now, and Oleander made his way toward the center of the room.

"But when the green man comes back, he's going to keep prodding at my brain until—!"

"Yeah." Oleander plopped him back down onto the table. "That's his job." But looking at Loboto, he found him hunched up again and shivering. Annoying as it was to watch him, he couldn't help feeling a little bad for the guy. "...Look."

Loboto looked up, his arms wrapped around himself, and he looked... almost pitifully scared.

"I get it—you're scared of what's gonna happen." He scratched the back of his head. "I'm... a little scared too, I gotta admit. We both messed up in different ways. But... eh." He rubbed his chin, looking off to the side. "The Psychonauts, as much as I had my issues with them in the past—" (he ignored Loboto's comment of "that was a week ago") "—they're good people. And they really do want to help folks, including people who mess up. Especially people who mess up." Looking back, he found Loboto had calmed somewhat, and was tilting his head at him. "They won't let anything bad happen to ya. So the sooner you're able to tell us what you know, the better."

Loboto's optics turned down to look at the floor, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "...Well," he began, and slowly his eyes turned up to meet Oleander's gaze again. "I suppose I... could tell you something."

Oleander perked up. "Yeah! I mean—of course, you can trust me."

"...Right." He glanced away again. He'd grown incredibly calm, and Oleander was pleased to see he'd finally won his trust. "Of course, this is strictly off the record."

"Of course!"

Loboto looked one way, then another, then leaned in toward Oleander, who struggled to hide his giddiness at the thought that he had learned something before—

"That green fellow is suspicious."

Oleander reeled back. "What? Sasha?!" He frowned, crossing his arms. "You're pullin' my leg!"

"Never!" Loboto exclaimed, placing a hand on his chest. "Are you saying you don't believe me? A-after I've risked so much to tell you this...?"

"Well no, it's just... Sasha?"

"Think about it! I mean, when have you ever heard an accent like that?"

Oleander held up a finger, only to pause. "Well, I uh..."

"Exactly." Loboto gave a smug grin.

"Well... when you put it that way..." Oleander rubbed his chin. "Y'know it is pretty funny how he denied the whole 'necromancy' thing..."

Immediately the dentist went back to fidgeting anxiously. "D-don't tell him I told you anything!"

"It's fine! Your intel's safe with me. Though this makes things a heck of a lot more complicated."

"Well, that's how it is." Loboto frowned, kicking his feet.

It certainly hurt to think about, too, given how Sasha had helped him just a few days ago. How could he betray the Psychonauts like that?

Hearing the door slide open behind him, he jumped and spun around to find Sasha striding into the room.

"Thank you for your help, Morry, but I must be alone in my lab immediately." Nein said hurriedly, striding over to the brain tumbler.

Strange. What was he in such a hurry for...?

"Well," Loboto began, preparing to slide off the table, "I suppose I'll get out of your hair—"

"You stay here." He TK-nudged Loboto back onto the table, then paused, seeming to consider that Loboto was now awake, and turned to Oleander. I was not expecting him to be awake, he said over telepathy. Have you learned anything... noteworthy from him?

Oleander looked from Sasha, to Loboto (who stared at him worriedly), and back, before shaking his head. No, haven't gotten a word from him about anything relevant.

As I suspected. Sighing, Sasha turned back toward the brain tumbler. "Well, thank you again for your help, but I must get back to work."

"Right. Uh. Good luck with that guy. You're gonna need it." Frowning, Oleander turned away, finally heading out of the lab. Mission accomplished, he supposed.

...Though after what he'd just learned, he had another mission he'd have to give himself. After stepping into his supply-closet-turned-office, he pulled out some blue paper, and began drafting his machine.

[wnbawag]

Jacked and Kind

Pairing: Breanna Stewart x popstar!reader

Summary: Popstar!reader - think Chappell Roan.

Word Count: 2.1k

Note: Not proofread, I totally wrote this in one sitting and it's not the best lol :)

My Masterlist

The 2025 Grammy’s

“And the award for the Best New Artist goes to:”

The entire building seemed to hold its breath, all the contestants trying to school their features, camera’s panning to each contestant in turn.

“Y/N Y/L/N!”

The artist’s hit song, Pink Pony Club, played in the background as the cameras zoomed in on the winner, who was currently holding back tears while she hugged the people around her.

The building was on their feet, cheering as she made her way through the crowd, accepting high fives and handshakes from various industry giants before finally getting onto the stage.

The announcer gave her a hug, whispering how proud of her she was, before standing back to let Y/N get to the mic.

“Y’all I’m shaking so much, thank you so much,” Y/N said into the mic, lip visibly trembling as she looked around the room.

It was that moment that the entire building was reminded of just how young Y/N was, and they immediately supported her by cheering.

“I remember writing this album, these songs, back home in Kentucky, never thinking anyone would ever hear them. I’m just so happy that you all love them as much as I do, thank you all so much,”

Y/N stepped back from the mic, waved at the audience, and wiped away her happy tears as she was led off stage to do her interviews.

Post – Grammy Interviews

“Y/N Y/L/N, winner of Best New Artist tonight, here with us for a few questions. Now Y/N, you’ve answered a lot of questions about your music tonight, so I have something different. You repost lots of women’s basketball to your Instagram story, specifically about the new Unrivaled league in Miami. Tell us what basketball means to you and why you seem so passionate about women’s sports?”

“What a great question, yes I love women’s sports, and I am guilty of reposting almost everything I see related to Unrivaled,” Y/N said with a giggle, flashing a smile to the camera at her right.

“I love what Stewie and Phee have done with the league; I played basketball when I was younger, so I’ve always been a big basketball fan. I’m really excited that these women have another option in the off season, rather than going overseas being the only option. I love the idea of Unrivaled and it’s been so successful so far.”

“Is there anything you’d want to say to the league or the players who may be watching this?”

“Of course! I want to sponsor something or contribute, I’m not sure what but I’m sure they could help me figure that out! Stewie, Phee, or admin, hit me up!”

And with that, Y/N signed off, giving the camera a big smile and wave before walking off.

Little did they know that interaction was going to change their entire trajectory.

February 2025 – Miami, Florida

The past week had felt like a fever dream. Almost immediately after the Grammy’s, you got an Instagram DM from the Unrivaled Instagram account, asking about a good phone number to discuss a partnership.

This led to several meetings over the span of two days with the Unrivaled board of directors, who decided that they wanted your partnership in the form of content with the players.

Something you were so excited for.

They had you flying out by the end of the week with a schedule of content to make with the different teams.

Of course, you vlogged the whole way there. They were keeping you joining as a secret until you landed, so the content you filmed got sent directly to the media team to edit and have ready to post.

After landing, you were met with an Unrivaled rep at the Miami airport and driven back to the headquarters.

They got you settled in your own Unrivaled apartment, showered you with Unrivaled merch, and debriefed what you would be doing first.

Their first content idea had you hyped.

You would be joining the Mist for a practice.

The entire concept was so unserious. They didn’t expect you to really be able to keep up, they just wanted you to give it a go and build some chemistry with the players while the cameras rolled.

The idea was to get you doing basketball things with the different teams, then have you participate in the Celebrity game close to the end of the Unrivaled season, which would be a 3v3 of 3 celebrities vs. 3 Unrivaled players.

You thought the entire idea was super entertaining and were excited to get started the next day, bright and early.

Unrivaled Practice Facility – Mist Practice

“Alright guys, Y/N here, star basketball player, obviously, here to show some amateurs how it’s done,” You winked at the camera, mic attached to your shirt. You were dressed head to toe in Unrivaled merch, Mist shirt and basketball shorts proudly on display.

You had mentioned in one of the meetings with the board that you were good on shoes, you had Jordans.

Then found a brand-new pair of Stewie 2’s in the numerous boxes of merch for you, with a handwritten note from Stewie.

‘Don’t want you dirtying your pretty Jordans – Stewie’

So, of course, you were repping Stewie 2’s paired with some WNBA socks.

You pushed open the doors to the practice court, catching the attention of all the Mist players.

“Okay girls let’s get this,” You stated proudly, strutting in with the cameras following, goofy grin on your face.

You were met with lighthearted giggles from the team as they all came to introduce themselves, several telling you what big fans they were of your music.

Stewie was last to greet you, she had to lean down to hug you properly, whispering that she was so excited you were here.

After she stood back up, you realized just how tall she was, but she looked down at your shoes and smiled.

“Nice shoes, they look good on you,” And winked.

You might’ve felt your heart skip a beat, but that wasn’t important.

Phil Handy greeted you, shaking your hand and telling you he wasn’t going to go easy on you, with an unserious look on his face, before telling the team to line up at the court lines.

He explained a quick handling drill which comprised mostly of between the leg dribbles.

It was that moment you realized you didn’t know how to dribble between the legs.

Standing beside Stewie, you nudged her side urgently.

She looked down at you with a questioning gaze.

“Uh, Stewie? I don’t know how to go in between the legs,” Stewie’s eyebrows raised in understanding, she glanced and motioned to Phil, who nodded.

Stewie took you a few paces to the side and began showing you how to dribble in between the legs.

“You need to be lower than you think, yeah bend over a little, little more. Yup just like that. Keep your knees bent, I know it feels like you look weird, but I promise you don’t. Yup now just bounce it- yes exactly!” Stewie gave a little bounce once you got it, shooting a big grin your way.

Of course, the cameras were catching every interaction and eating up you and Stewie.

The two of you rejoined the drill and made the pass with the team. You were slow about getting across the floor, losing your ball several times as you bounced off your foot.

It could’ve been embarrassing, but Stewie matched your pace, laughing loudly with you whenever you lost your ball, and it seemed every bit of social anxiety drained out of your system with her beside you.

That’s how all the drills went, Stewie showing you exactly how to do the different handles, adjusting your stance on shooting, and explain the 3v3 and 1v1 rules as Phil ran drills. She partnered with you for every drill, giggling with you whenever you failed miserably and cheering when you managed to dribble correctly or sink a basket.

Even though it was all fun and games, you managed to dribble a ball behind your back in a cross over in a 1v1 drill against Stewie, then sink a 2-pointer.

You totally knew Stewie left you wide open on purpose, but you didn’t care when she cheered louder than you did as the ball sunk through net.

You understood why everyone who met this woman loved her.

As practice ended, Phil and the practice players had left the court while the rest of the team crowded around you to ask questions and talk.

At some point, Stewie had asked if there was anything you had ever wanted to do on a court, to which you responded you wished you could dunk.

Which led to Stewie leading you to the basket, ball in her hand. She passed you the ball, telling you to hold it while she put her hands on your waist, moving you to just to the side under the basket.

She leaned down, standing behind you, till her lips were level with your ear.

“When I say jump, jump straight up. Trust me, I got you,”

You definitely didn’t shiver at that.

She told you to jump, which you did.

You felt her strong hands on your waist lift, and you went straight to the basket, your head peeking just over it.

You excitedly dropped the ball in, giggling as Stewie carefully lowered you to the ground, hands never leaving your hips, even when your feet were safely on the ground.

You were barely paying attention to Rickea and Aaliyah yapping about some Tik Tok trend, barely paid attention when Stewie nodded in agreement, you nodded just to agree with Stewie.

And somehow found yourself in the Mist locker room, filming a Tik Tok. You heard the music “a boy who’s jacked and kind” come from Rikea’s phone and you immediately knew what you were in for.

But couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you and Stewie faced the camera, her easily lifting you up and onto her shoulder.

She shot you a smile before smirking at the camera and flexing the bicep that wasn’t holding you in place.

You couldn’t help the soft smile that graced your own features at her antics.

Stewie came along as you filmed other content with other teams for the rest of the day, claiming it was ‘co-founder duties’.

You didn’t miss the eye roll from Phee when she said that.

The two of you made eye contact several times during the Owls content, silently bonding over amusement from Stewie not leaving your side.

She found several excuses to pick you up throughout the day, saying she had never met someone so small.

You felt you should’ve been offended at the constant comments about your height, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when Stewie’s strong arms were wrapped around you.

Several times, you caught yourself staring at her lips as she yapped, something you were sure the cameras had picked up on.

Not that you really cared.

Board of Directors Dinner

The Board had invited you to a dinner after your first day, you were unsurprised when Stewie said she was going too.

Phee looked at her in surprise.

“Didn’t you say those things were stupid and you would never go-”

“Nope, I never said that. I live for stupid dinners,”

You and Phee made exasperated eye contact, choosing to not comment about the sneaky arm that had made its way around your shoulders.

You leaned into it during the dinner, keeping a hand on Stewie’s thigh or fiddling with her fingers under the table.

You definitely knew you were driving her crazy the entire dinner. Not that you cared.

Stewie had insisted on walking you home, even though you were living in the same building as everyone else for the time being. But you let her, leaning into her side while she wrapped a hand around to your hip, you let your own arm wrap around her waist.

Once the two of you were in the building, Stewie looked at you with a hesitant look on her face.

“I know we like, just met, but- only if you want to, no pressure or anything, but would you want to come back to my place and- y’know,” Stewie blushed, looking down at her shoes.

You giggled, the light sound bringing her attention back to you.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask,”