#now I gotta get one of this bad boy bc I’m tearing up they’re so cute

[k-kizkhalifa]

It’s not a 1-3 word thing but was curious if we could get some more of the one with Harry/Draco parenting Ted and him having a hard time at school?

Sure!!! I am totally okay with this bc I am in love with Drarry as parents (though canonly i think there is a lot to be desired from Harry. But, anyway.) Kinda gotta away from me, around 2500 words actually. Enjoy? ~ kiz

—

Teddy picked up shirt and held it up, giving it half a glance, turning to Draco with a wide smile. “Okay, dad, this is the one!”

Draco furrowed his eyebrows, “you just want this one?” He watched Teddy nod, handing it to him, “Teddy you wear clothing more than one day of the week.”

Teddy shrugged, “my other clothing is fine, dad.” He turned around, heading towards checkout.

Draco looked down at the shirt, and sighed, “love, why don’t we… well, I mean I always had a new wardrobe, are you sure?”

Teddy chuckled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, “you bought me a new wardrobe just before summer. Remember?”

Draco frowned, following the younger boy. He purchased the shirt, and took the offered bag, “you want absolutely nothing else?”

“Uh, no.” He shook his head, “dad took me for school supplies, a few weeks ago, remember?”

“Yes, I do.” Draco nodded, slowly, falling into step with his adoptive son. “Teddy, would you like to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Hm,” the older man said softly, watching Teddy looking through shop windows as they passed them. “You do know we’re proud of you, right?”

“Yes, dad.”

“I mean, immensely, Ted.”

Teddy turned and looked at Draco, his eyes filled with emotion, “it’s hard sometimes.”

“What is?”

“Just being me. Being your son, his son….” The words felt heavy as they settled around Draco, who remained calm and focused. His only worry was Teddy. “I want to be good enough, you two are so hard to live up to.”

“Teddy, you don’t have to live up to us. Do you feel you have to?”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel, it’s how they all feel.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

Teddy shrugged, shaking his head. “Nothing, it's fine.”

“Ted,” Draco looked around them, before he wrapped Teddy in a hug, “you are so amazing, every single part of you. What is happening?”

“I’m just… I’m no quidditch star, and my dad — my real dad was a werewolf and they’re ‘bad’, and I’m a stupid Hufflepuff, and I’m weird because my appearances cha-ange.” His words came out muffled against Draco’s chest as he spoke, tears welling in his eyes, “and my.. I’m short, and I'm part of the Black family, and I’m — I’m not brave and all those things like Harry, and I’m not good looking and smart and fearless like you were in school—. I have no idea how I’m passing? I have no— I have no friends and I am so alone all the—.” His voice cut off as he sobbed, clutching hard against Draco, holding on to him tightly.

Draco closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, as he held his son. He’d stand there as long as he needed, hours even. He didn’t care. All he cared about was Teddy. “You sweet boy,” he whispered, holding the 15-year-old in a warm hug, soothing him as he ran a hand through his blue hair. “Let’s get home,” with a quick pop of a noise, both were gone off the sidewalk in the middle of Wizarding London Shopping District, and standing in the den of their house.

Draco could smell dinner cooking and he glanced at Harry, when he saw him peek in from the kitchen, giving a very subtle shake of his head, watching him stand there.

Draco gave Teddy a kiss on the top of his head, brushing his nose against his hair. It always went blue when he lost focus. Draco hadn’t seen it blue in quite some time, which he figured now was due in part to a few things he had just said about himself.

Teddy finally took a step back, face flushed and eyes on the carpet, “sorry,” he whispered.

To which Draco snorted, “do you know how many times I have a good cry? Nearly daily.” Teddy rolled his eyes, “ask you father.” He said seriously, letting his arms drop.

“Don’t tell him, please.” He whispered. Harry arched an eyebrow as he heard that, and he met Draco’s eyes in question.

Draco frowned at the younger boy, “Edward Lupin, I’m going to ask you a question, and when I do, you’re going to answer honestly, do you understand?”

“Okay.” Teddy shuffled his feet, glancing away.

“I’m going to tell you something before I ask. Look at me.” Teddy looked up, taking a shaky breath, “it wasn’t all great for me, Ted. At all. Merlin, those first years? It was magical, and beautiful, and everything I ever wanted and then one day it wasn’t.” Draco took his jacket off as he spoke, turning just slightly to toss it on the settee, “I was 15 going on 16, and I was told I had to become a person I wish I never did.” He met Teddy’s eyes, watching nerves flash across his face, “there’s millions of little stories floating around, hm? Someone always has something to say.” Draco held out his arm, and rolled the sleeve of his dark gray button up slowly. “I wished, time upon time, I didn’t have to go back. I wished I could have left, the whole time I was 16 and then, Teddy, that last year? That was hell.” He turned his left arm over, and Teddy looked down at it. The Dark Mark was so vivid, like a fresh tattoo, on his alabaster skin.

“Choosing to be part of your life was not easy, love, and not because of you; but because of me.” Teddy looked up at him, “Merlin, I wanted to be able to be the best for you and your father, Ted. I don’t want to be the reason you ever feel you aren’t good enough.

“I didn’t have many choices while I was growing up, and I think there is a fine line between dictating someone’s life, and guiding someone’s life. So, in order for me to be the best I can for you, Edward, I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to be honest with me. No matter what.”

“Okay,” Teddy swallowed hard, meeting Draco’s look.

“Do you want to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow?”

Teddy stared at Draco, a new set of tears welling in his eyes, “dad didn’t, did he?”

“No, love, he didn’t.”

“An-and,” Teddy wiped at his face, sobbing as he did, “and y-you didn’t aft— after everything?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Dad I don’t want to be there.” Teddy swallowed hard, nearly buckling as he said those words out loud, “I hate it.” Draco caught him, and held him up, pulling him into another hug, “I’m s-sorry.”

“Teddy, there is no reason to apologize,” Draco promised, letting the teenager nuzzle against him. “We are proud of you, for who you are, baby. You think that only applies to Hogwarts?” He shook his head, “exactly, it applies to everything in your life.”

Teddy leaned against Draco, sniffling, “I don’t want to tell him.”

“I’ll talk with Potter.” Draco said softly, “but you’re going to tell him what you told me, right?” Teddy frowned, deep, before looking up at Draco, “you stand by your choices, understood?”

“Yes,” Teddy nodded slowly.

“Good, now run on, get yourself cleaned up, dinner will be done shortly.”

“Okay, dad,” Teddy stood there a moment longer, holding Draco. “Do you think he’ll be upset?” He asked nervously, “I really don’t want to let him down.”

“Your father wants to support you, just like I do, Edward. Go easy on him.” Draco looked down at blue-haired Teddy, “I’m glad to see you’ve gotten your hair back to normal,” he whispered, brushing the strands back, “go, clean up.”

“Dad, I love you.”

“I love you too, Teddy,” Draco promised seriously, feeling Teddy step back before he turned and headed down the hallway. Draco closed his eyes and took a slow breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Draco, what is going on?” Harry asked, quietly, his eyes nervous when his husband looked at him. “Did something happen? Is this why he’s been so distant this summer? What happened?”

“He’s being bullied, Harry, and apparently it’s over everything. You, me, you - again, Remus, his magic, his lack of quidditch skills, the house he was sorted into… his appearance and how it can change.”

“His hair….” Harry whispered, feeling mortified, “how the hell did I miss this?”

“We missed this, love.” Draco watched Harry take a step towards him, and he grabbed his left arm, lifting it before bending slightly to kiss his wrist. “He doesn’t want to be there.”

“What do we do?”

“Mm,” Draco trailed his finger along Harry’s jaw, “I think this is a choice you have to make, I can’t do this. His parents didn’t entrust him to me.”

“He’s your son, just as much as mine.” Harry gave Draco a look, “we have both adopted him.”

Draco wet his lips, glancing past Harry towards the hallway, “I mean you heard….” Harry nodded, “if I was making the decision on my own, I wouldn’t be taking him back there.”

“Okay.”

“Pot—.” Draco gave Harry a look, a serious one. After 14 years together most of their relationship was pretty easy going, especially with Teddy off to school. They had their moments, they had their time. They always had breakfast and dinner together, they never went to bed without a kiss (and usually a shag, still after all these years), they never spent Sundays with anyone other than each other. Their lives were intermingled and easy, they didn’t have to argue or run things by the other, Draco had his career, Harry had his.

They were in their 30’s, settled and comfortable. With each other, with their little family.

When Draco looked at Harry like that, Harry knew deep inside that whatever was about to be said was something for thought. He had made his choice, he would stand by his choice, and he wasn’t going to change his mind. In the last 14 years he never had, and Harry figured in the next 14 he wouldn’t either.

“Harry, listen. I don’t know what we will do, but I do know I am not on the side that is going to force him to attend school there. He… we’ve done fine without it. Hell you lasted another year more, and I wasn't really all there mentally those last two. And, look at us? We’re fine. We have a life, we’re living, we’re stable, we’re happy.” He frowned, “I know you have a lot of fond memories of Hogwarts, but it’s not that way for everyone.”

“I’m…” Harry pulled Draco close, snaking his arm around his waist, “does he think I’m some kind of monster?”

Draco slipped his arm around his shoulders, and pressed a kiss to his temple, “he is very scared to upset you, and let you down.” Draco to a breath, “I think we understand, far more than he realizes, the need to not be a disappointment.”

Harry gave Draco a hug, holding him a moment. “We’ll figure it out.”

“We will,” Draco smiled, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Harry winked, “we’re going to have a teenager, full time, Draco.”

Draco chuckled, “we’ve managed the summer, haven’t we?”

“Three months is not as long as 12,” Harry smiled, “uhm, I have holiday time I can take.” He added as he stepped back, “let me go finish his dinner and act like I don’t know a thing.”

Draco, following, rolled his eyes, “I told him we would talk, but that he’d tell you his decision.” They both heard the door open, and Draco took a breath, grabbing two wine glasses. “White?”

“Even if I didn’t want white you’d pour me white because that’s what you want.” Draco smiled, using his wand to float the bottle across the room. He plucked it from the air, and stuck his tongue out. “Real mature.” Harry turned towards Teddy when his presence graced the doorway, “hey Ted, ready for dinner?”

“Yeah,” Teddy nodded, slowly, “I’ll set the table.”

“No,” Draco shook his head, already having grabbed the plates, “I will. I want you to tell your father about our shopping trip.” Teddy nodded, swallowing hard and running a hand through his shaggy blue hair.

“Dad said he cries everyday?” Teddy asked, leaning against the counter.

Draco laughed softly as he walked towards the dining table, laying the plates out. Harry chucked, his eyes on Teddy, “he does. Your dad is very emotional, Ted, don’t let his cool exterior fool you.”

Teddy smiled fondly at Harry, “I, uhm, dad I don’t want to go.”

“Go where?”

“To Hogwarts,” Teddy whispered, glancing away from Harry towards the sink. “So, uhm, I just would appreciate it if we could talk about an alternative?”

Harry watched him, “Draco said you were having a tough go of it?” Teddy nodded, crossing his arms tight against his chest. “Here’s what I want to say to that, Ted.”

Draco looked up at Harry, waiting. This was it. This was the moment. In the end, Draco would have to support Harry and his choice. No matter what. While he may have adopted Teddy, just days after their wedding, it was reality that Teddy was entrusted to Harry Potter, not him.

Teddy looked at him, taking a breath, and Harry took a step closer to the boy. “You have to make that decision for yourself, Ted. I can’t. Draco can’t. Your grandmother can’t.” He lifted a shoulder, “you’re young and we all can offer advice, but we can’t really make those choices for someone. At least, Draco and I can’t. We’re not those type of parents, for lack of better words.”

Teddy nodded, “I, uhm, well there are tutors, right? And homeschooling options? And, I don’t know, Mikey — his mum homeschools him.”

“Mikey is a Muggle,” Harry said slowly, speaking of the boy that lived a few houses over, “and that is a different type of schooling, Ted. Are you saying that you want to do Muggle school?”

“No, no.. I—“ Teddy sighed, “I’m just saying I don’t want to go back to Hogwarts.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, opening his arms slowly. Teddy took a step closer, and tucked himself against Harry’s chest. “Ted,” he whispered, closing his eyes, “I am sorry,” he said to the young boy, “I am sorry you felt unwanted, and unhappy, and I am sorry I didn’t ask.”

“It’s okay, dad.”

“It’s not,” Harry gave him a squeeze, “alright, get yourself seated at the table, and we’ll talk.” Draco smiled, happily, as Teddy held Harry tighter, tucked away in his hold. They didn’t hug often, really, Harry generally gave Teddy his space. He wasn’t great at things like that, he usually left that to Draco. Draco was more patient and better at understanding, he was better at knowing what to say and how to offer support. “I’m happy to see your hair is back to normal, Teddy,” Harry added quietly.

Teddy smiled, “it feels nice to feel like myself again.”

[smashtbh]

are you down to write for sub top reader x billy where reader cums but billy won’t stop riding him until he finishes too so reader is overstimulated. dom bottom billy ofc

Manners

Billy Hargrove x M!reader | fem aligned + minors dni!

not my gif!

CW: swearing, smut (lesgoo), subtop!reader, dombottom!billy, reader has a dick, sprinkled degradation, overstimulation, billy being a pillow princess in the first half, cowboy baby, refractory period? what’s that?

he/him pronouns are used to refer to the reader.

a/n: for some horrible reason i’ve had insane writer’s block so i’m going to make porn bcs that’s what i can do also this isnt proofread sorry 🤞🏽

i gotta stop smoking before writing holy shit i feel like this is all over the place im sorry i just get so much more inspo when im high 💀

There’s drops of wetness falling onto Billy’s chest, moving with his quick breathing. Y/N has been thrusting in and out of his ass for what feels like forever now. They’re both sweaty, but Billy honestly can’t tell if the liquid that’s falling on him is sweat or tears.

“Baby,” Billy calls out.

“Mmm — “

“Just like that, ooh fuck.” Billy’s smiling up at Y/N who lets out little grunts after every thrust. “You feel so good.”

Y/N lets out a humorless laugh. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Billy tweaks his own nipple. “Done so soon?”

“Billy, I came twice already.”

“That was in my mouth they don’t count.” Billy clenches around him. “I haven’t come yet.”

“I jerked you off in the car!”

“Doesn’t. Count.”

Billy kicks Y/N ass with his heel. “C’mon, stud.” He bites his lip. “Fuck me.” He tries to get some leverage to grind onto Y/N’s dick.

“Chill out, oh god.”

“People usually just call me Billy — “ Y/N slams a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

He’s thrusting in a nice slow, even pace. Y/N’s been close to the edge for a while, but he’s sure he can hold out for the rest of the night. He’ll be fine.

That is, until Billy licks his hand. And Y/N knows that he’s going to do something. Something with Billy is normally a lot.

Y/N moves his hand and lets Billy talk. Bad mistake. “I wanna ride you.”

Y/N’s hips stutter a bit. “You can’t just — say that.”

“I just did.”

“Billy I’m gonna fuckin’ — “

“Just let me ride you. Please?” Billy does his best puppies eyes and grabs Y/N’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

Y/N sighs, louder than needed. “Fine.”

“Yay!” Billy exclaims, moving up to kiss his cheek.

Y/N is now laying on the nest of pillows he made for Billy an hour ago. He’s pretty comfy, watching Billy kiss down his chest. He puts his hands behind his head.

“You look gorgeous like this.” Billy whispers, staring at Y/N.

“Thanks,” Y/N mutters. “Now get to it, pretty boy.”

Billy laughs, kisses Y/N’s stomach one more time, and proceeds to pornagraphically lick Y/N’s shaft.

“You — you are one nasty motherf-fucker.”

“Nasty, huh?” Billy says, sucking on the tip.

Y/N grunts, trying to keep his hands behind his head. Trying to keep his cool.

Billy finally sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He straddles Y/N’s stomach, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Love you.”

Y/N smiles, turning his head to kiss Billy’s lips. That’s all the answer Billy needs.

He shuffles his legs back, still kissing Y/N. Billy whines against him when Y/N’s dick catches on his rim. “Fuuuuck, this is gonna be s’good.”

“Hope so.” Y/N whispers against him as he thrusts up, fucking into Billy.

They both moan loudly, Billy hiding in the space at Y/N’s neck.

“Anh — let me.. let me move, baby.” Billy sits up again, crying out at the new angle. Y/N’s hips thrust up, making his eyes water and his mouth open in a silent scream.

So fucking good. Is all Y/N can think.

Billy starts to lift himself up, balancing on Y/N’s stomach. He slams back down, making him clench around Y/N’s cock. “Billy, I’m close.”

“Where’s — your manners?” Billy asks with a particularly hard drop.

Y/N’s hands fly from behind his head to grip Billy’s hips. “I’m fucking — “

“Yeah,” Billy clenches around him again, “you’re fucking me. C’mon, come.”

So Y/N does. Almost passes out doing so.

He’s trying to control his breathing, but he’s twitching with overstimulation because Billy is still bouncing on his fucking dick.

He’s moaning and his voice is a pitch higher, it’s raspy probably from the blowjob earlier and he’s riding the shit out of Y/N.

Y/N’s hands snake up to his chest, tweaking his nipples. “Auh — oh fuck.”

The sound of Billy fucking Y/N’s come deeper and deeper into himself is almost enough to make Y/N come again.

“You’re still so — fucking — hard.” Billy grunts.

“Please tell me you’re close.” Y/N gasps, letting his hand caress Billy’s cock.

“Mm, keep your h-hand there and I’ll — ohh.” Billy doesn’t know whether to thrust into Y/N’s hand or slam himself down onto his cock. “Yeah, touch me you fuckin’ whore.”

A few more seconds of Y/N jacking him off and Billy’s coming with a scream that Y/N interrupts with a hand on his mouth. Can’t wake the neighbors again.

Billy is still grinding on Y/N’s dick, laughing at the loopy look on his face. “Two loads, you’re a slut L/N.”

Y/N doesn’t remember coming again, but he moves a bit and feels the come start to drool out of Billy’s ass. There’s a lot more than there was before.

“Says you.” Y/N laughs, gesturing at the come splattered on his stomach.

Billy just smiles, leaning down to kiss him. “Your little slut.”

Y/N twitches. “Do not.”

Billy lifts himself up, letting Y/N slip out of him, then falls beside him. “Night.”

“Billy, it’s 3 in the afternoon.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

likes, reblogs, & comments are appreciated!

[football-writing]

Jack Grealish - real smooth

Note: I haven't seen the david and liza vid that this request was based on, and I have the attention span of fresh gravy so I didn't watch it either lmao. But I had a bit of an idea in mind for this more like Mason's fifa forfeit vid with Chunkz (let's be honest that vid was hilarious I still watch it sometimes for laughs lmao) anyway I hope that's okay. Also this features other players too bc why not

Warnings: contains some curse words probably, slight mentions of sexy times at the end, also I have no idea how waxing actually works as my only knowledge comes from that Mason vid so,, this is probably not accurate sorry xoxo

Hope you enjoy babes x

It wasn't unusual for Jack to invite some of his friends over whenever he had a day off. In fact, his days off were usually spend either with you or with his friends, most often opting for eating out with you before getting back and playing fifa with the boys for well past midnight. Today was no different. You had occupied yourself with a book and and cup of tea in your shared bedroom, while Jack was downstairs with his friends playing fifa. Their yelling and laughter could be heard even from behind the closed bedroom door. Not that it bothered you too much: as long as they were having fun and cleaning up after themselves once they left, it was fine by you.

However, it surprised you to hear footsteps coming up to the stairs, then down the hallway to your room. They had everything they needed downstairs, and never before had they bothered you upstairs, so why would they now?

A knock sounded on your bedroom door and you yelled out a quick 'yeah' as you closed your book and sat up on the bed, curious as to what it was they needed.

"Hey angel." Jack said as his head popped through the door before making his way into your bedroom, sitting down defeatedly onto the edge of your bed. He had a slight pout on his face, and bit his bottom lip nervously as he looked at you.

"What's wrong, baby? Please tell me you didn't break anything down there." You said, a stern look plastered on your face.

"No, no, it's nothing like that. It's just- uhm." He hesitated as he looked down, playing with the hem of his shirt instead of maintaining eye contact with you. Worry took over your features. What was he up to now?

"We were playing fifa forfeit, right. And Ben said I had to wax my legs if I lost-"

"Oh my god, Jack!" A releaved sigh left her lips. It was never gonna be anything serious with these boys anyway. She should've known better. "Did you lose, though? Please tell me you did."

He only nodded in response, and she let out a squeel as she fell back on the bed.

"That's hilarious, I was worried there for a second, but this is great."

"Don't get too excited. The boys asked if I'd ask you if you had any wax. But I just came up here to chat for a bit and then I'll go back down saying you didn't."

"Now, why would you do that?" She said as she looked at him with raised brows, challenging him.

"You know, I actually do have some strips left, I'd be more than happy to wax your legs. Besides, a bet is a bet, Jack. You can't just back down now." She smiled thriumphantly and he groaned in response.

"Why won't you just have my back with this?"

"Oh, I can wax your back too, no problem."

"Not what I meant sweetheart."

"I know." She smiled cheekily as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek, before telling him she'd be downstairs in a bit with all the necessities to wax his legs.

"Hey boys!" She hollered as she rushed down the stairs with her wax kit, the boys looking up at her. Jack was already sitting on the chaise longue with his legs up. His shorts ridden up a bit more than usual to expose his muscular thighs. The others sitting next to him on the couch, ready for the action that was about to unfold.

"Ready, babe?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him as she sat down her kit.

"Oh I sure am!" Ben replied with a big boyish smile on his face.

"I'm sure you are, Ben." She chuckled as she ruffled his hair. He'd usually have it gelled back whenever he had a game, but kept it natural and curly when he came around theirs. It was her favourite look of his, perhaps partly because she could mess with his hair more easily.

"I remember when I had this done, hurts like hell. Good luck bro!" Mason interjected, patting Jack's shoulder in mock-sympathy.

"Yeah, I cannot wait to see you cry like a baby. I love you for coming up with this, Ben."

"Babe!" He whined. "You're supposed to support me here."

"Well I am supporting you, I'm the one waxing you. Trust me, you do not want to have this done by someone who has no idea what they're doing." You said as you warmed up a few strips of wax between your hands.

"Seconded." Declan replied with a serious face. Everyone looked at him in confusion; he had never told them about getting waxed before, but it sounded like an intriguing story.

"I'm not even gonna ask, mate." Jack said. Horror stories would not make this experience any more bearable for him. It left Dec pretending to be upset, eager to tell the - no doubt ridiculous - story.

"Alright, I'm gonna get these on." You interrupted their banter, tearing the strip to reveal the sticky substance underneath.

She put the strips on his leg as the boys chatted away. Just as she was putting the fourth strip on, Jack swatted her hand away.

"You have to put all those on?" He questioned her.

"Well the forfeit did say 'legs'. As in, both legs. Completely." Declan argued.

"I did say that. But that's a bit too harsh innit?"

"Yeah, there's already three strips on now, let's see how he gets through those first." Mason offered.

"Will hurt like hell with that much hair." Declan hit Jack's leg for emphasis.

"No doubt." You laughed as you smoothed out the strips once more.

"Ready, Jack?" You asked as you hold the edge of one of the strips, ready to pull it off.

"Wait, wait I gotta film this!" Declan was quick to exclaim as he took out his phone, much to Jack's dismay, who had his hands in front of his face as he waits for the inevitable pain of ripping off the strips.

"Alright, 3. 2. 1!" The boys count down in unison as you rip off the first strip.

"Jesus, Y/N!" An array of curses leave Jack's mouth as he yelps, gripping his leg in pain, his eyes wide with shock. Clearly he had underestimated how much this was really going to hurt, which has all of you rolling over with laughter. Mason is gripping his stomach as he's sitting on the floor, barely able to breathe between his giggles. You're trying to ease Jack's mind and soothingly rub the sensitive skin on his leg, but you're shaking too much from the laughter leaving your lips.

"Oh my lord, and look at the hair that's come off!" Declan hollers as he takes a step closer to properly film the strip that was, indeed, covered in Jack's leg hair. You held it up for the camera as you shrieked at the sheer amount of hair. It's like a lion's mane got glued on the strip.

"Jeez, Jack, you hairy lad." Declan laughs, which earns a grumble from dissatisfied boy. You're pretty sure if Dec wasn't responsible for filming the whole ordeal, he'd be on the ground just as Mason was.

"Oi, what are you crying for, mate? I'm the one in pain here." Jack points a finger accusingly at Ben, and when you turn around you see he has tears in his eyes, breathing coming out in desperate gasps as he shakes his head no, signalling he can't take any more of this banter. It seemed like everyone had at least slightly calmed down, but looking at Ben made everyone burst out in laughter yet again. Mason had tears streaming down his face now too, and you're sure he might piss his pants if he laughs any louder. It even makes Jack chuckle.

"Just get it over with, alright. I don't wanna be in pain any longer." Jack asks you nonetheless, guiding your hand to one of the other strips.

"It can't be that bad." Ben's voice is higher than usual from his earlier laughing fit, but he's wiping the tears from his eyes as he seems to have calmed down considerably. Mason can only nod in confirmation, still unable to form words without giggling.

"I have no problem waxing you lot too, babes." You smile up cheekily at them, which results in loud protests from the boys.

"Now that I would love to see." Jack replies, before looking down at his leg and rubbing the spot that was now rid of any hairs. "Perhaps this would be funnier if there weren't two other strips on me leg." He sighed in despair, staring at his leg with sad eyes. It made you chuckle, but seeing Jack's stern look dericted at you, you quickly focused on the task at hand.

"Alright, next one Jack."

"Lord have mercy."

The next strips don't have any other effect than the first one. It sends all of you rolling on the floor laughing, and Jack with tears in his eyes and red skin on his leg. Dec leaves the room at one point because he genuinely can't breathe, and Mason has to sprint to the bathroom, like you predicted. Meanwhile your hands get shakier and shakier from laughing, and you can barely see what you're doing due to the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Jack's decided to rip the last strip off himself, and you're shrieking with laughter as he pulls at it but chickens out from the pain, resulting in it only coming off halfway. When it is finally off, and all the hairy strips are disposed of, everyone slowly but certainly calms down. You're getting some lotion from upstairs to soothe the stinging, and when Ben orders pizza, it all seems long gone.

Yet when you're watching tv, and Mason steals a sneaky glance at Dec, the both can't help but try - and fail - to surpress their giggles.

It's how the rest of the night continued until the three other boys finally left in the late hours of the night.

"I'll clean, love. Get in bed and I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" Jack's offering once they're gone, and you're accepting gratefully as you kiss his cheek. The night was fun, but the laughing fits had you beyond tired.

So when Jack slips into bed next to you, you're already in bed with your eyes closed, dozing off.

"Hey, babe."

"Hm?" You mumble as you open your eyes at Jack's whisper.

"Wanna feel my leg?" He asks, but he's already draping his freshly waxed leg over your legs, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You've known the guy long enough to know that he won't stop bothering you if you decline, and the request makes you think of the many times you've asked him to feel your legs after - finally - shaving them again.

So you decide to humour him and softly carress his smooth leg.

"Feels pretty good, huh?" His voice cocky as he questions you.

"Sure, real smooth Jack."

"Wanna have sex with a sexy smooth beast like that?"

You snort loudly at his inappropriate request, shoving his leg off of you in a joking manner.

"Oh come on, don't tell me I went through all that for nothing!" He exclaims in agony.

"No, you went through all that because you suck at Fifa." You deadpan as you grin at him.

His eyes are darker as he watches you intently, and the knowing smirk on your face makes you apprehensive of what he's up to now. He's moving closer, hovering over you and effectively trapping you as his muscular arms hold himself up on either side of you. And next thing you know, he's placing a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, before trailing down to your jaw. A gasp involuntarily leaves your lips as he nibbles at your earlobe.

"You know with how soft my leg is and all." He starts to whisper in your ear. His voice is husky and smooth - and normally you know what it means. But you have no clue where he's going with this sentence. "Would you mind if I-" And he's pausing again for dramatic effect as his lips graze over your hot skin. "Slitherin." He finally whispers in your ear, accentuating the 's'.

And just like that, you're back rolling over with laughter just like you had been that very afternoon.

[imtooscaredforthis]

Tethered

Legion’s Frank x Reader

Part I- Chapter One: Bully

Mentions of: Harassment, Bullying, Scratches, Slight physical violence, Frank Being The Little Shit He is, etc.

A/N: I’m putting author’s notes in my fanfics now bcs I can hehe. And here it is, the moment you’ve been waiting for! I love mc so much in this chapter she’s such a sweetheart ugh

Tags: @prettycutebunny

“Hi, um, can I ask you a question?” You said as you walked up to one of the caretakers, Ms.Annaliese.

It was your third day in your new group home, and you were still getting used to how things were around here. Things were a lot different from your last one, to say the least.

To start, the place was a bit bigger than the last home you were at, with three floors, four bathrooms, eight bedrooms, a rather roomy dinette, and a small playground and blacktop outside. And the atmosphere was definitely much different than your last home.

“Do you know where the washing machine is?” While the older woman gave her answer, you let your attention fall to the playground outside, listening to the excited chatter of children, watching as they played around with a smile.

But then, your eyes fell to the blacktop, and you spotted a group of boys your age, crowding around a younger one, pushing and harassing him. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but judging by their tone, you doubted it could be anything good.

You had to do something, so you got the caretaker’s attention, pointing outside to where the boys were. “Uh, ma’am? Those boys are fighting.”

Well not fighting, because the smaller one wasn’t fighting back, but they were still doing something bad.

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying? The washing machine is down the hall and two the left.” She repeated, growing irritated and completely ignoring what you just said.

“But- They’re hurting him-”

“That’s not my problem. Go do the laundry like I told you to.” She said apathetically, and you couldn’t help but feel angry. Taking a small breath, you turned on your heel, walking off.

Picking up the laundry basket you once had in your hands, you made your way towards the washing machine but paused at the door. It was cracked open, and you couldn’t help the temptation that came over you.

Setting down the basket, you crept over to the door, opening it and watching the boys, hearing their conversation loud and clear. “Look at this freak, he can’t even run away right!”

“Who would he even run to? No one even cares about him enough to stop us. How pathetic.” The boy in the middle, who was leading this whole thing said.

And that made something come over you. Fury. Anger. As they continued to beat up the little boy, your body moved for you, and you sprinted over there, pushing the boys off of him.

“Leave him alone!” You snapped at them, looking over your shoulder at the younger male. He gazed back up at you, his eyes tearing up and his body trembling, seeming shocked by your actions.

“Aww look at that. What are you, his hero? That’s funny, he needs a girl to come and save him.” The brunette leader remarked, the others laughing at his statement. He had a smug look on his face, one that you glared at. You didn’t like this guy. Whoever he was, he was a jerk.

“What’s wrong with you guys? Do you seriously hate yourselves that much that you have to pick on someone smaller to feel better? You’re all pathetic. Go do something productive with your life and grow up.”

That made the boys stop and go quiet, and you turned away, helping the smaller child up to his feet, walking him back inside. “Come on, let’s get you some ice and bandaids for your scrapes.”

--

“Are you feeling better?” You asked, putting the last bandaid on the boy’s knee while he sat on the toilet. You both were in the bathroom, the one that had the medical kit and the medicine some of the kids needed.

While you bandaged him up, you had learned a few things about him. His name was Alex, and he was nine years old, four years younger than you.

He was so young, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he lost his parents. It always made you sad when you saw such young kids around here, the youngest being four, without parents. Without a family.

“Yeah, thank you.” Alex was shy and quiet, so you had to make conversation by asking him questions like this, most being simple things.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He murmured, and you tilted your head with a confused smile. “What? What do you mean?”

“You shouldn’t have stood up for me. No one stands up against Frank. If they do, then they’re his next victim, and he bullies them too.” Alex told you.

You frowned softly, putting the bandaids back in their cabinet, and the ice back in the refrigerator. “Frank, that’s the brown-haired guy in charge? The one who has those guys following him around like lost puppies?”

He nodded, his eyes all round with fear and honesty. “And why does he bully you?”

“One of his friends has language arts with me, and the teacher made me read to the class, but I’m not good at it, so I kept on messing up, and he made fun of me for it and said I couldn’t read. It’s not that I can’t, it’s just…the words get all jumbled in my head and stuff, and I flip around the letters.”

“Well, I’m not scared of Frank. And you shouldn’t be either.” You patted his head and messed with his dirty blonde locks a bit.

“Why not? He beats me up and says all these mean things about me.” He pouted.

“Well don’t listen to what he says, and if he hurts you, come get me okay? Cause I’ll kick his butt.” You grin at Alex, making him giggle.

It was nice seeing the little boy smile. Seeing him happy. One of your favorite things was making people happy. Especially when they’ve had such sad, troublesome lives, like him.

“Snack time!” You heard one of the caretakers call, Alex instantly perking up. He must’ve been hungry.

He got to his feet, moving over to the door and looking back at you over his shoulder. “You coming?”

“Shoot. I gotta go do the laundry. I completely forgot. Ms.Annaliese is gonna be pissed. Can you do me a favor and cover for me if she asks where I am? Thanks. And if Frank bothers you, don’t be afraid to come get me!” You said before rushing out of the room.

[cinnamonest]

please spare more crumbs for the sex slave au with diluc and kaeya's meimei,,

Thank you for giving me permission to be more depraved this is from forever ago but I'm slowly getting the "forever ago" stuff done lol

I love the concept tho, especially Crepus buying a lil qt and having to teach them how to be good masters bc they’re both dumb clueless boys, bless.

TWs: slavery, implied incest or pseudo-incest, could give vibes as under//age (nothing is specified but I guess it could strike some people that way so I wanna be cautious), noncon/dubcon, mentions of anal, misogynistic, awful depraved and nasty -------------------------------------

God. The arguing. The rivalry. The chaos. Like, with some poly yanderes/owner/master relationships, the two work *together* and focus attention on controlling *you,* but these two are... not like that. They have a lot of rivalry going on half the time.

Now, this could be Crepus buying a slave and basically indoctrinating her as a meimei, but of course, if you actually are one of the boys' bio sis, the one is gonna claim some authenticity - you know, the whole "well she's my real sister, not yours, so I get to fuck her more" kind of thing. The other appeals to "well she's your real sister which makes you worse," and it devolves into arguing back and forth about whether or not the blood relation makes them more or less justified in sticking their dick in you and claiming more rights to meimei's time and attention. Not just to each other either, it's also directed at you -- the whole "hey, I'm your real big brother, so you should spend more time with me than him" kind of thing. It actually can get pretty annoying over time, you have to constantly be soothing not one but TWO egos in desperate need of affirmation. But here I’m going more with the idea of Crepus just buying them a sweet meimei. Diluc's more... patient. He teaches you "touch commands" -- little learned gestures, like a dog. Just the lightest touch on your spine and you know it's a clear message to arch your back, a hand under your chin and thumb pressed against it has you instinctively opening your mouth, a tap to the back of your neck and you kneel. Little gestures that can bend your body and mind with minimal effort. Despite that though, Kaeya is actually the master of The Look™ - the kind that can make you go quiet and apologize in a mere instant when given. But because you know it, expect him to be even harsher if you defy it. Sometimes in your little tantrums you get so mad that you'll have the audacity to ignore that look and keep whining or being a brat which does not end well.

Meimei is what you call free use - any time, anywhere. One of the most important lessons Crepus told you when he first got you/when you were old enough is that you are never to deny the boys any of your holes if they want it. This is just as important for the boys to learn as it is you, he's a big believer in the whole, "if you act like a good proper master, the slave will naturally fall into their role too" sort of thing, so he teaches them to be forceful and dominating, not hesitant to do what they want -- if they're clear on what they want and make known their expectation of your obedience (and the subtle implication of threat of punishments if not complied with), you'll fall into the submissive role you're meant for and naturally want to submit to them like a good little wife-sister-slave.

So, whenever one of them beckons you over, you smile and ask them how you can help. Your brothers work so hard, and it's the least you can do to take care of their needs. Sometimes they just want you to sit on their lap, wrap your arms around them, sit there a while in silence when they're sad, sometimes they want to vent to you about things when they're frustrated, sometimes they want to use you. Of course, the former two usually leads to the last anyway. You're... emotional support pussy. There's important rules and practices to be followed, it's actually rules for all three of you, several apply to them, actually, as Crepus taught you before he died, and it's become second nature for the boys (it works in their benefit, after all). #1. You can never be left alone. There's a lot of reasons for this, but primarily it's in your instinct to get fucked, all you know how to do is take cock, so if you were left alone you may very well go running off and jump onto the first thing with a dick, and they can't have that. So basically you either have to be with one of them, within their sight, or accounted for in some way - there's a couple of installed tethering hooks and the like on the walls  in several areas of the house you can be attached to. But, really, they're not usually necessary, with two very horny males running around you're busy most of the time, even if it's a more passive task. You spend a lot of time sitting on someone's lap, sometimes taking naps throughout the day with whoever decides they're tired at the moment. So, you spend more or less every waking moment with one or both -- well, every sleeping moment too, of course you don't have you own room. You alternate nights between the two just like you were told to. There's not really any task you do alone. Bathing? It's always gotta be with one or the other. Sleeping? Always with one or the other. Even when you're cooking -- because obviously you do that, they wouldn't even know how to, since you've always done it -- one is always standing beside you, talking to you, or sitting a ways over in a chair as they vent about their day. Oh, speaking of that, as aforementioned, you're there for emotional burdens too. When one has had a long day, what would they do if meimei wasn't there for them to vent and whine and complain to? You've always been taught to be a good listener. Don't interrupt. Listen to everything and don't zone out. Don't oppose their actions when they're telling you about their problems, always tell them they were in the right and comfort them. Smile while you listen. That's how you were trained to respond when one of them has some burden to unload on you. Always offer your body to make them happy. That's the last part, and they've never not taken you up on the offer. That being said, sometimes you have to... motivate them. Push a little bit. You see, you're just so sweet that sometimes your brothers might want to just spend the entire day in bed with you. So you have to motivate them to do their actual work. Tell them that if they don't go to work, if they stay in bed all day inside you, how are you supposed to clean the house and make dinner for them? So they sigh and accept you're right and go off to work after all. And, again, the rule is important for them too. You can never run off on your own, but they're also vigilant not to ever leave you alone. When you're first bought, Crepus had to constantly pull them back inside the house when they'd go to another room for something because see, you're leaving her all alone and she's going to go running off and it'll be your fault. So they had to be conditioned to communicate and make sure you were always accounted for, taught how to restrain you properly. If you were left in a room, Crepus would come by to make sure they remembered to lock you inside, would test the tightness of your leash if you were tethered to something, and sigh and chastise if one of them neglected to do it right. #2. No getting off on your own, this is a rule they have to help enforce. It's a waste - you have TWO big brothers, surely one of them is always going to be available and eager, so really, getting yours without either of them involved is pretty selfish, and worthy of punishment if found doing so. If for whatever reason they're all too busy, you have the option of asking permission to ride and grind on their thigh, but no cumming until they're done with their task and are available to properly handle it. Crepus is particularly adamant about this rule, as well as enforcing the same mentality in them, doesn't think it's appropriate for a girl to be so selfishly absorbed with pleasure when she should  be giving it to the men that own her. For one, a girl should be spending all of her time dedicated to serving her masters in some way, and two, they're both needy boys that would be eager to fuck you at any time. So really, masturbating is an act of defiance and will be dealt with as such. #3. No favoritism! There will be times where you may feel mad at one or the other, and sure you have different levels of how much you can tolerate certain behaviors... But, you have to train yourself against that. Meimei should have no limits of what she can tolerate - that's part of your whole purpose. So even when you're mad at one, you can't try to avoid that one and go to the other, you still need to divide your time, energy, and body equally. Don't talk bad about one to the other, don't try to spend more time with one or the other at any time. This also includes pitting them against each other through jealousy, it's a huge no-no. Don't try to make one jealous of the other. If they catch you doing that, sooner or later they'll realize what you're doing, and deal with it, usually harshly, since it's seen as a high-ranking offense. In fact, you really shouldn't be mad, ever. Your big brothers know what's best for you, so if you're mad over a disagreement, you just need to accept that they're right and you're wrong and that you need to submit to their will. Outwardly showing you're upset is bratty behavior, things like pouting or giving them the cold shoulder are punishable offenses. #4. You're also a peacekeeper. Diffuse fights. Both of your big brothers can be... stubborn, prideful individuals. This leads to pretty regular conflict over this and that. It's meimei's job to help with that, calm them down with a smile on your face. Or, if it works better, with some tears and a quivering lip. Please don't fight, you say with watery eyes, sniffling, and well, they can't help but feel bad, they both turn their attention to you rather than to each other and apologize for making you upset.  And if they're having one if their regular it's my turn kind of arguments, your job is to propose the easy solution of sharing. You have more than one hole to fuck, and can easily cuddle one on each side. It should be an obvious solution. Oh, and they fight sometimes over who gets to do what, who spends time with you, but doing different things rather than both wanting to do the same thing. One is sitting at his desk to work and he can't be expected to focus on work without meimei sitting on his lap and cockwarming him of course, but the other says he wants to take a nap and how is he supposed to sleep if he can't rest his head on meimei's tits? There is only so much of her to go around! But they will legit adjust their schedules to make sure they get alone time. And are very nitpicky about it -- wait why do *you* get an extra hour on Tuesday?? If you get that I deserve an extra hour on Thursday -- that sort of thing. You're supposed to be able to propose such ideas. It's your job to come up with solutions that make everyone happy. You can cockwarm one brother while he works and tell the other that hey, if he postpones the nap, you can just ride him until he cums and can sleep right? Things like that. #5 Actually isn't for you, it's for them, regarding punishment. When Crepus got you, the poor boys didn't really know how to go about doing it, so they had to be taught. It's important to be a good master and know how to do so adequately, you know? To not let anger get the better of them and go too far, since sometimes they might get too mad about something. In fact, a good trick, he teaches them, is to just tie you up, and go blow off some steam before coming back to punish you. That way they won't go too far, and you'll have to wait around in fear for a while, which just helps the punishment sink in better. But at the same time, don't go too light. No matter how much you whimper, he says, don't feel pity for her and go lax. It's intentional, it's just your nature to try and fake-cry to try and get out of it. You did something bad, so they shouldn't feel bad about it, even if you cry and squeal. It's the right thing to do. You're supposed to cry, you're supposed to say it hurts and whimper, that just means they're doing it right. But of course, there's some sensitivities to be taught. If they have you bent over a knee, they have to make sure to only hit your ass and the back of your thighs, make sure not to go up too high and hit your back, since that could cause injury. If they're gonna fuck your ass as punishment, make sure to use a certain amount of lube. Things like that, it's important to be good masters, just as much as it is your job to be a good little slave.

And to remember, of course, that meimei is... an inferior little creature. Don't get mad at her just because she's stupid and doesn't understand this or that, that's not her fault. She can't be expected to be smart or responsible, that's their job. But also, don't feel pressured to give her what she wants just because she wants it or anything. And, most importantly, don't start having self-doubt and ever think she might be right about something while they're wrong, because obviously that can't be the case. You might get defiant and try to insist you know better than them, act like you're just as capable of something as they are, or think your opinions matter or something, but in that case, they have a responsibility to remind you of your place.

[tiptapricot]

MK liveblog thoughts, Asylum

Why does this have another boring title music section uGh

The main themes being right at the beginning w the cave n Wendy,,,,, Oughhh

THE EDITING IS SO GOOD

God god god

Marc looks so beat up n confused babe I’m so sorry I’m so sorry

I still don’t think this is Jake y’all sorry I rlly just never will ok

His accent doesn’t change it just gets stronger bc he gets more upset

Dr Harrow you suck so bad

“I took the bus” “hmgggggg |:-/“

Also why does his face look totally diff Oscar why do u shift ur face

DONT BRING UP THE LITTLE BOY SHUT UR YAP

Also again… Marc’s trigger is roro n he gets mad when harrow brings it up

Taweret my love

Taweret’s painted nails n how she licks her lips o baby oh yeah

Also the fact that she’s gotta read off cards n is awkward bc this isn’t her job

Autism overrides fear of being dead, category 6 event two dead and are mad ab it

Untethered consciousness is such a fun way to describe souls

Just watching Marc fall back into old habits of thinking n self hate n being trapped in his medical trauma agghhhhh

“Mahc… mahc….”

“BingoOOOOH MY GOD”

The Duat music is amazing n the colors r LOVELYYY

Poppa-ed ya hearts out hehhehe

Steven grabbin him boobies no heart there anymore

Also how what happens when ur souls don’t balance is diff bc Ammit is entombed n cant eat them

“Kill the hippo, steal the boat”

THEYRE INCOMPLETE BC JAKE ISNY THERE U FUCK LET HIM OUTTT

“You two guys” so real they rlly are guys

“Yeawrrite”

I love Steven n Marcs bickering ab killing Taweret or not they’re so

They’re so

I love the memory rooms hey don’t go into they’re so cool looking

N the music that’s like a muffled n floaty version of the main theme ouYghH

“Woah… that’s wild”

Marc seeing the shiva n brushing it off is so…

I didn’t think anything of it the first time but knowing now is just uUggGHh

Steven’s collar is lower cut than Marc’s n that vibes

The way Steven looks when he asks “All of them?” Is so heartbreaking

Marc baby Marc baby Marc bABY I need to holD YOU OH SHIT RORO HIIII

“Why is there a child in a room full of people you’ve killed” GOD BUT HES ALIVE HES THE ONLY ALIVE ONE ITS NOT THE SAME

THE WAY MARC BANGS ON THE MEMORY BC HE KNIWS WHAT UT IS IUGGHHHHHH

“Draw wing”

Layers gators in awhile crocodile

THE SHOT OF MARC THROUGH THE HALL MIRROR THE GREENS OF THE TREES N THEN IT GETYING DIMMER AS IT RAINS

The music swelling n shifting still light n then getting heavy n deep when Steven realizes what’s happening

Marc searching so hard n Steven’s panic rising n Marc looking rigid n scared n tense as his own fear rises

Steven yelling even tho they can’t hear him the water rushing in w Marc’s memory n his breathing over the top of it Steven diving n n Marc’s breath shivering over all of it GOD GOD GOD GOD

Steven at the shiva…. He looks so shaken and empty

The room is warmly lit but the contents are not

The water dripping in the silence

Wendy’s hair going from wavy to straight in grief

Baby Marc… baby….. go back to your room

God

Ok

Steven’s face I’m

God Jesus fuck the emotions this instills just holy shit holy shit

DONT GO UP THE STAIRS

The way each level almost gets more desaturated….

Steven continuing to climb n Marc only being able to watch

The score dude… I’m just…:.::::::::

Their vices when they’re fighting

Teen Marc…. Steven just watching and the tears on teen Marc’s face and Marc pulling him away into a worse memory

Spitting up sand..

OH HEY STEVEN INSEE UR SHOULDER

Marc……. Man

Hey I… care ab these guys a lot

“What happened to you?” And Marc is already moving towards it

ALSO THE SHOT OF THE TEMPLE IUGGHHHB JTS SO COMICS IT MAKES ME YEL

I can’t even

Like

I can’t even describe the feelings of this scene we all know

But like the score doesn’t stop immediately when Khonshu starts talking his voice cuts through it and silences things and makes Marc pause

Khonshu I hate u

Also so many shots r uneven n weird this scene in a good way

“Marc he was… taking advantage of you”

The way we see through Marc’s eyes the edge of Khonshu’s staff before he says yes and then Khonshu is finally visible OUGGHHHH

HAHA THEY SAID THE TITLE YEAHHHH YEAHHH OH HEY HIS CAPE IS GLOWINH DUDE

TAWERET ILYYYY

Marc’s…. Rlly strong n panicked reaction to maybe having to relive the bedroom but Steven just can’t get it bc he doesn’t know he is unable to know and then Steven says it’ll b all his fault n it triggers Marc and he has a mini meltdown just… fuck man

The way the diff Dr Harrows act diff n have diff rules

Proves the psych ward isn’t reality immediately between the sedating vs the not sedating

Again Dr harrow asmr is begrudgingly v nice

Marc just responding by looking at him like 😕

The tomb buster figures… the stuffie, the astronaut on the shelf. The car bunk bed…. I think

Baby Steven…….

And the way Steven copies along bc he rmrs…

Steven being a fictive is still one of my fav things but also it makes sense he does not have a good reaction bc he doesn’t know what it means n his sense of self is so strong n just

God….

PUNCH HIS ASS

Steven… oh baby

I’m like

Listen guys I’m rlly fucking emotional it’s hitting harder than usual rewatched uh um um

Marc’s voice breaks even when he’s so angry and I’m just I

Oh I’m im rlly close to crying lol

Steven’s initial reaction to her being dead is just heart shattering n he’s mumbling n his world is coming down n Marc is trying to calm him bc he realized what he did but Steven can’t hear him through the panic

Steven still being brave in the face of gaslighting n illusions n not believing that Dr harrow is real like Marc did

“Oo nosy…”

Dr harrow I hate u

Steven’s breakdown as the realization of his mother is brought to the surface n he tries to deny it but he can’t the way his dont do that becomes a pleas j his face breaks oh the tear oh god

“My mum is dead” And the line is dead too

“I was just a little boy”

Oscar Isaac the actor you are Jesus shit

The way Steven just watches the memory n breaks n the tears come n he gets it

And the taxi drives away someone mentioned the Jake parallel god

“Marc… all those horrible things that’s he said to you, she was wrong, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Hey… hey… you were just a child. It wasn’t your fault.”

My chest is like twisting n it’s in my throat guys just… Jesus

THEYRE UNBALANCED BC JAKE ISNT THERE N ITS TWO HEARTS N IT WORKS DIFF THAN SINGLETS BABY CMON

This fight hurts so bad just

The faceless sand creature….

Steven working so hard to save Marc

The way Steven covers his mouth when Marc gets hit n he looks so purely scared

AND THEN HE ATEPS UP YES BABY YOU GOT THIS

“SIIIIX!! I prefer cricket :-)”

BEAT THAT THING UPPPPP

Marc’s proud happy in awe face n then he gets grabbed and it is that moment and—Steven falls

And Marc’s voice is hoarse and it’s so distant for Steven and then he realizes and tries to run but it’s too late “stop the boat!” “Wait!” But it doesn’t they can’t n Marc is yelling and Steven reaches out and says his name and is gone

The way that Taweret gasps a lil when the scales balance and then the music just.. lightens… and Marc looks so destroyed in the soft light of the field of reeds, alone and warm and broken….

Yeah I…. No wonder this put me in a shit emotional state for a week Jesus Christ

I never want to relive the wait between moon knight episodes 5 and 6 ever again but truly what the fuck dude that…… episode just

Christ

[ff-imagines]

Can i request some nsfw headcanons for mantis shrimp? I read through your blog and let me just say: I'm a big fan. Btw if you dont wanna do them thats fine as well

Salt and pepper shrimp: nsfw alphabet

I did the whole alphabet bc? Why not! Side note I rly wanna write a fic going off my thoughts ab his experience level >:)

A - aftercare

Look, getting him to release you from his hold to go to the bathroom on a regular night is a battle enough. After sex? Phew I wish you luck. Might wanna just put some water on your night stand beforehand. You would be able to convince him to take a bath with you pretty easily though, he likes how the warm water feels very much. Make sure to cuddle him in the bath still, he's in a very vulnerable state right now and he really needs some good old tlc.

B- body parts

he’s got a weird fixation with your hands. He likes to compare hand sizes, whether your hands are bigger or smaller isn’t what he likes, he just likes to admire them. He loves sucking/biting your fingers while he’s got you in his lap. Lacing your fingers with his with one hand while bringing the other to his cheek, nuzzling into your hand while he bounces you on his cock.

On himself, there is tragically little that he genuinely likes. He views himself as a weapon, getting him to unlearn that will not be an easy process, trust me, Boston has tried. Complimenting his eyes does seem to make him a little more flustered than other praises, and he has a hard time staring you in the eye during sex…. maybe we can start there.

C - cum

His cum is pretty thin but there’s a shit ton of it. Enough that if he cums inside you swear you can feel the warmth as his cock pours rope and rope of his seed into you.

He doesn’t actually care where he cums, just ask him and he’ll comply.

inside you? sounds good.

On your back? Say less.

On the floor? You’re cleaning it, but sure.

He did discover he’s got an affinity for watching his cum on your tongue. I don’t know how you’d be able to swallow it all, but any attempt you make will be met with shrimp getting hard all over again.

D - dirty secret

He secretly thinks it’d be really hot for you to dom him. It’s gonna take a very long time before he’s comfortable letting you have that Linda control over him, just the thought of being tied up, hands behind his back while you praise him for being such a good boy, its a fantasy he’s visited on many sleepless nights.

E - experience

Nope. Nada. To be frank, I think he’s the definition of Demisexual, and he has yet to meet anyone besides Boston and the anti-human gang who he genuinely wants to get to know better. He definitely hasn’t met anyone who wants to get to know better for romantic reasons.

He doesn’t know enough about human customs to know that it can be embarrassing for someone to be inexperienced, but he does feel very very nervous the first few times. He’ll need a lot of reassurance, give him praise and he’s putty in your hands.

F - favorite position

I'm gonna be boring and say missionary. It’s simple, easy, and since he’s brand new to all of this it’s the least mentally overstimulating. He very much likes that he can see your face.

If he’s feeling extra spicy he might grab onto the inside of your knees and push you into the mating press, though he really only does this if he’s upset or jealous.

If you ask nicely he might let you sit in his lap, as a treat. Bouncing on his cock as he litters your chest with bite marks, what a treat it is <3

G - goofy

…. yea for sure definitely. He’s a real jokester.

On a serious note, he himself is not a goofy person whatsoever, but he would actually like it if you were. Outright making fun of him or harsh teasing is an immediate turn off, but light jokes to ease his nerves is for sure welcomed since he’s very tense the first few times.

Give him time and you might even catch him cracking a small joke himself, all the while giving you a weak, nervous smile.

H- hair

He doesn’t trim or shave anything lmao. He’s busy, and also doesn’t care literally at all. He’s got a thin happy trail that can be easy to miss since he's blonde.

He’s got the same energy with your body hair, he doesn’t care. If you do shave he might ask why, just out of curiosity. If your reason is insecurity, he’ll probably suggest you let it grow, he doesn’t care and he’s the only one who’ll ever see it lmao

I- intimacy

It’s an awkward “i hope to fuck I’m doing this right” kind of intimacy. He fumbles and messes up a lot, he might even accidentally miss when thrusting and end up just kinda rubbing himself on you but he’s really trying. Just from the fact he’s willing to try this at all with you is a big sign that he’s really trying his best to be as intimate as he can with you.

J- jerk off

Before meeting you, not a lot actually. He mostly just did it if he ever woke up from a wet dream and knew that if he didn’t take care of it now he’d never be able to get back to sleep.

After your first time together, his first time, he thinks back the immeasurable pleasure a lot, finding himself in need of relief a lot more than he ever did before. You are the catalyst to his drive, and you are also the only thing he can think about that can help him cum. It’s kinda sweet in a perverted way.

K- Kinks

He will bite you. It’s just so easy to bruise you and it makes your relationship status to others so obvious, he can’t just… not bite you.

Marking, going along with the biting kink. This goes both ways, he’d love for you to scratch at his back enough to leave red marks, to bite as his collarbone, grip his hips tight enough to bruise. He likes looking at the marks later, they remind him that he did good, he made you feel good, that’s all he really wants.

He doesn’t exactly have a breeding kink as much as this goes along with the marking aspect. Suggest to him that he cum deep inside you to mark your insides… he might give you 2-3 loads just to make sure you're nice and full, completely claimed.

He also kinda likes to make you cry. Overstimulating you to the point of tears gives him a sense of pride he hasn’t really felt before.

He really likes temperature play as well, dragging ice cubes and hot wax across your skin and watching you flinch and squirm just does something to him.

And of course, light bondage. He probably found out it was a thing after reading some kinda erotic fiction and immediately went to you like “why did you not tell me about this?????” He adores how to look all tied up and stuck, right in the palm of his hands. It makes him feel emotional as well, that you’re willing to give him such a powerful amount of control over you.

Last but not least, please praise him. During sex as well as day to day. Let him know he’s so pretty, he’s doing so good, he’s cock feels so so good, he might cum on the spot.

L- location

The first time he’d really need it to be in a secluded, safe area. He’s gotta feel comfy if he’s gonna get into the mood.

Every other time? Babes you’ve awakened a beast, he’ll get random spikes of “if I don’t at least try to fuck them I will scream”. You could be in the middle of a forest running from an axe wielding murderer and this horny bastard would still find a way to pull you aside and rail you against a tree.

There most likely isn’t a spot in your home that he hasn’t fucked you against.

Peaceful moment of washing dishes? Think again, he’s plopping you on the kitchen counter and diving to mouth at your neck.

Writing some papers? Just sit on his lap, you’ll feel much less stressed with his cock buried to the hilt, won’t you?

Doing laundry? Might have to rewash them cause now he’s using the clothes as a bed to fuck you on. He’ll apologize and help you fold them after they’re rewashed bc he feels bad lmao

M- motivation

Like I said, he’s set off by the smallest things. A little stretch, wiping some water off on your pants, humming a song, all of it can randomly make him feel the need to fuck you.

The most intense and quickest way to rile him up is either playing with his hair, or massaging his back. It starts out innocent but he just can’t take the thought of your pretty hands working so lovingly and not at least trying to reciprocate and make you feel good too.

N- no

No sharing. He doesn’t want someone else to see you, and he doesn’t want someone else to see him. It’s just not something he likes.

He also hates humiliation. He… would tolerate it if you asked for it, even if he doesn’t get why you’d want him to outright insult you. But for himself? Fuck no, he hates it so fuckin much. He’s a sensitive insecure puppy that wants your attention very badly, pls don’t hurt him like that :(

O- oral

Oh please give him oral. He’s begging. Well, he’d never outright beg but the way his eyes fixate on your mouth a lot is his way of silently pleading for you to wrap your lips around his cock. His soul ascends a little every time he sees his cum dribbling down your face, he might be even willing to make out with his cum still on your tongue.

As for giving, he’s got no clue what the hell he’s doing but he’s nervously eager to try. Guide him as best you can, he’s good at measuring your reactions so he can handle the rest. Tug on his hair a little bit if you wanna drive him crazy.

He’ll get a lot better with time, his eagerness to please however, does not leave him in the slightest.

P- pace

The first time? Slow and unsure, then he realizes “oh fuck this feels stupid good” and his pace becomes almost punishing. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, he’s unknowingly going deeper and harder than you've ever been dicked down in your life. If you want him to, somehow, go harder? Grab his hand and place it over your stomach to make him feel his cock enter you through your skin, his hand slides down to grip your hips and slams into you, wiggling his hips without withdrawing to gain some of his sanity back before he’s back to a punishing pace.

Q- quickies

Oh hell yea. He lives for them. Sudden moments of horniness come to him all the time and since this spike in desire is brand new, he hasn’t really… learned to live with it yet. He pulls you aside into closets and alleyways all the time, he can’t help that you feel so warm and snug :(

R- risk

He doesn’t exactly enjoy the thought of a voyeur, he really doesn’t want to share you with anyone. But… there is a deeper part of him that finds a sense of pride if someone were to hear you getting absolutely pounded by him, desperately crying out and whining for him to go deeper, even better if they were someone who pined for you….

S- stamina

Well, to be frank he cums pretty quickly. It’s all so brand new to him, he really can’t help it. Lucky for you, his refractory time is crazy low. He can cum once, watch you do some mindless motion you always do and he’s right back to being hard again in minutes.

T- toys

Not against it, but is again, brand new to all this shit. He’s very interested in using your own toys against you though. Would definetly use a vibrater to edge and overstim you. He’d be interested in a cock ring, only if you were willing to endure a vibrator while he fucks you, he doesn’t wanna be the only one struggling lmao

U- unfair

He can be, yea. He kinda likes edging you, but not as much as he likes overstimulating you.

He loves to hear how you beg under him when he’s pulling you so close to the edge, keeping you just far enough to drive you insane.

Overstimming though? The way you twitch and beg, how your chest heaves and your mouth hangs open into a silent scream, eyes shut tight and watering, now that’s the good shit.

V- volume

Doesn’t talk much, but for sure gives out a lot of groans. This is something he’s never felt before in his life, the first few times you're going to get a lot of whines and surprised yelps, check up on him and make sure he’s still doing alright, he’s just very nervous.

As he gets more comfortable, he gives you quiet praises and promises to make you feel good. He also groans quite a lot, but since his voice is deeper it can be hard to catch.

W- wild card

He really wants to try using his prosthetic arm for temperature play, he’s just not at all confident in himself enough to bring it up. He likes the thought of you jumping and squirming under his touch, for now he can just stick to wax play.

X- X Ray

Mans is actually pretty fuckin big. He’s got no idea how big he is though. If you were surprised and a little nervous about his size he’d be pretty confused, is there something wrong? Did you change your mind? The concept of him being well above average is something you’ll have to explain later. It boosts his ego quite bit, even if he’d never admit it.

Whine about him being too big and you can just see the pride swelling in his chest, giving you no mercy with his thrusts.

Y- yearning

Often. Very very often. He’d fuck you multiple times every day if he had the time. However, you’re both busy, and you’d probably get a UTI with how many times this man wants to dick you down lmao. He’s got his cock buried in you at least 4-5 times a week.

Z- zzz

Actually pretty quickly. Even if he prefers being in control during sex, he kinda likes being the little spoon as he drifts to sleep. Give him some soft praises about how well he did and he’s turning into jello in your hold.

[koshicoast]

A few shinkami headcannons because I love them more than anything

Shinsou has a growth spurt and practically towers over Denki by their second year (for all intents and purposes, Shinsou has always been in class 1A)

Denki grows a little bit but not that much, he’s not complaining though, he gets Shinsou to grab stuff on the top shelve for him or has him hang up posters in higher places in his room (the only downside is that he has to get on his tippy toes for kisses but usually Shinsou will just bend down like a good boyfriend)

They go on dates every Sunday, It’s their day and it doesn’t matter what they’re doing as long as it’s just the two of them

They could be studying or doing homework or exercising or anything really and they’ll call it a date

The rest of the class knows better than to try and contact either boy on Sunday

“Normies worship Jesus on Sunday but I worship Shinsou” - Denki, at one point in time

Shinsou loves playing with denki’s hair, he buys different kinds of hair clips just to put them in denki’s hair

he just likes how the colors pop out

He especially likes to see purple hair clips in denki’s hair

Tbh it doesn’t have to be hair clips, it could be a scrunchie or a rubber band or a headband; as long as it’s purple it does wonders to shinsou’s heart

Denki likes playing with shinsou’s hair too but more than that he likes seeing Shinsou in yellow clothing

Shinsou doesn’t wear bright colors a lot usually sticking with black or cool tone colors

But when he does wear yellow, Denki just gets all mushy no matter how small it is

It could be yellow earrings or socks or something and Denki will wear a love sick expression all day

Despite being in the hero course, Shinsou still gets incredibly insecure about his quirk and how some people only see him as a villain

Denki, without fail or hesitation, tells Shinsou what a great hero he’s gonna be, he talks about how Shinsou is gonna inspire a new wave of underground heroes and how he’s gonna be some kid’s Aizawa one day and how proud he is of him (The first time he said that, it makes Shinsou sob. It makes denki cry too bc he’s a sympathetic crier so they just lay in bed holding eachother)

He also tells Shinsou how no matter who’s the number one hero, Shinsou will always have first place in his heart. And that Shinsou is just as much as any other hero out there and even a little more because he’ll be underground

Denki just loves his boyfriend so much and whoever planted the idea that some quirks are just made for evil is going to get electrocuted >:(

Denki will also pepper Shinsou in kisses saying things like ‘you are so kind’ ‘you’re an amazing person’ ‘I love you so much’ ‘You’re my hero’ and just a bunch of stuff so by the end of their heart to heart Shinsou is feeling a lot better

Denki gets insecure about how ‘dumb’ he is and how he’ll probably just end up hurting civilians or himself before he hurts a villain

Shinsou hates how that’s how Denki views himself because Denki is one of the kindest people in the world and doesn’t even realize it like the first time Denki told him that insecurity, Shinsou looked at him and was like ‘are you..you’re serious? Denks, You’re one of the most clever people I know’

Whenever Denki mentions it, Shinsou he just squeezes the blonde and lets him cry out his frustrations before telling him that ‘he’s not an idiot or stupid and that it’s okay not to understand something as fast as others and that it’s okay to learn differently and it’s okay’ (Shinsou will always try not to cry but a few tears fall anyways bc he just wants denks to be happy without feeling like he’s a fuckup)

Shinsou never lets Denki call himself an idiot or stupid, even in a joking way.

They don’t fight a lot because of their personalities like

Denki is a people’s person and is really in tune with other’s emotions and by default is a pacifist unless otherwise

Shinsou isn’t a people’s person but he’s observant due to his quirk bc of how he’s been treated in the past, he’s also good at picking up on people’s body language

Most times it’s just small disagreements and even then they communicate the best they can and try to compromise

If that doesn’t work then they’ll give each other space so the disagreement won’t turn into something ugly

They’ve only fought once and it was the worst (and best) thing for them

The fight happened after a mock rescue mission goes wrong and there were weeks of stress and tension leading up to it

It was messy and bad like really bad

“I just don’t get why you have to run into danger!” Denki screamed. The whole dorm could probably hear them but he didn’t care, not when his boyfriend was looking at him like he just lost his mind.

It was supposed to be a simple training exercise. Simple. Go in, defeat villains, rescue the ‘hostages’. It was not that simple.

*insert how badly the mission went and Shinsou ran towards the danger to help or smth idk*

It gets pretty rough between the two of them because they’re both pretty emotional people

Shinsou thinks denki doesn’t want him to be a hero and denki thinks Shinsou doesn’t want to be with him

It’s a lot of insecurities + stress + yelling

Denki is the first one to break, he’s a lot more emotionally sensitive than Toshi and everything is just crashing down and he hates it

“Do you just not want to be with me?!” He cries, unable to keep the tears at bay any more. He hates arguing with people, especially when that person happens to be his boyfriend. He gets it, he does! Toshi is training to become a hero and so is he but that doesn’t make it easier. Doesnt stop the shot of fear whenever he watches the other get hurt, doesn’t stop the late night self deprecation, doesn’t stop the anxiety he gets whenever he sees Toshi run head first into danger.

But he gets it and somehow it’s a bitter realization.

Because Hitoshi’s priority is the job they signed up for and Denki’s is Hitoshi.

The fight ends with tears on both their parts and they call it a night, too tired to scream anymore

They sleep in their own rooms that night

The next morning they agree to take a break, not a full break up, but some time away. Space away from each other to prioritize and think.

(Now ive seen fanfics where everyone picks denki over Shinsou and i hate that so fuck you, class 1A are both their friends and they’re all family and try and to help each other I will die with that statement)

Surprisingly the two most helpful people are Bakugou and Kirishima

(Actually not that surprising, they’re the longest couple in the whole class, dating immediately after Kamino)

Bakugou and denki have a heart to heart

“You’re both dumbasses” Katsuki sighs heavy, passing another tissue over to the sobbing blonde. He’s not good at these kinds of things, but Kirishima told him he could help the electric blonde more than he could so here he is. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong or just cry?” He asks, not without a hint of worry though. He pretends to ignore it.

So denki tells him everything and his insecurities

Oh. Yeah, Kirishima was right.

“You think I’m an idiot” Denki mutters quietly, harshly rubbing his eyes.

“No” The older blonde shakes his head, plopping down on the bed next to the other. He doesn’t turn to meet yellow eyes, his own trained on the All Might poster hanging directly across from them. He feels Pikachu’s curious gaze on him so he decides to elaborate more, knowing the sooner he helps the sooner he doesn’t have to deal with this anymore. It’s totally not because he’s gotten soft. Absolutely not.

“Trust me, Zombie Eyes looks at you like you put the fucking stars in the sky. It’s disgusting to watch.” He crinkles his nose in disgust earning a small laugh. “People like him and I, we gotta work twice as hard. Not saying that no one else does but it’s different.” He stresses the last word. “People like Ei or Deku or even you, people already see you as good so all you gotta do is get stronger. They don’t question your character, your morals, they don’t look down on you for having a weakness. People like Zombie Eyes and I though?we gotta work hard just to prove that we’re good. That we were meant to become heroes. Every action we do is put under a microscope and analyzed.” He explains.

“We’re assholes by default, It’s how we were raised. Not saying it as an excuse though. He was in the shitty system and I had shitty parents, no adult taught us shit like love or how to properly deal with feelings.”

Stupid Deku tried with him but he didn’t even know how to deal with his own much less some angry blond kid’s.

He takes a deep breath, pushing back faint memories of his childhood. The younger hasn’t said a word but he can tell he’s listening so it’s fine. “We can’t just turn off how we are. If it’s frustrating for you and Ei, It’s worse for us. Like we know logically that we’re good people, that we changed but that’s now how our brain sees it. We push ourselves because that’s all we know how to do, it proves to us and everyone else that we bled for our spot here. That we made it. Having friends is hard because we compare ourselves to them and draw our own conclusions to their actions. Being nice? Our brain says it’s a trap. Showing some human fucking decency? Our shitty brain says it’s an act. Being in a relationship? Laughable. We’re just villains pretending to play heroes to everyone else.”

He takes another deep breath, forcing himself to look away from the poster, flashbacks to their first year briefly passing in his head. Okay yeah, not going down that route. He looks over, making eye contact. He wonders if this is how Kirishima feels whenever he’s trying to cheer him up. Wonders if it’s just as hard. This better be worth it, everyone has been miserable. (Shitty thing about having been through life and death situations together is that everyone has bonded and become close like a family so when one of them is sad it’s like everyone is fucking sad.) (He loathes it because even he gets worried.)

“But despite that he still loves you.” He says softly, almost whispering like he’s telling the other a secret. “Fights his demons to hold your hand and all that shit”

Shinsou loves him? Loves him?

“How do you.. how do you know?” Denki whispers, throat sore. “We fought so badly last night, we were screaming at eachother.”

“He treats you the same way I treat Ei.” He answers,

“He changed his priorities around to try and accommodate for another person in his life, you became more important than training or studying. He takes days off to be with you, cuts his studying short if you need a break. It might not seem much to others but for him that’s huge. He came in with this one track mind but then you came along and he scrambled to balance everything. And then you two got your shit together and started to go out and I’m pretty sure he got scared”

“Scared?” Denki asks, the thought almost funny to him.

“I did.” Bakugou admits as Denki’s eyes grow wide.

“I was petrified. When Ei started to become more important than hero work, I freaked. It’s not that loverboy is choosing being a hero over you, It’s because he doesn’t understand that he can have both. He thinks everything important is a choice- that if you want something you have to give something up. He chooses hero work and he loses you. He chooses you and he loses hero work.”

“But he’s not going to lose me or hero work”

“Kinda sounded like you did give him an ultimatum though”

The realization hits him like cold water.

Shinsou gets a similar talk with Kirishima

It helps, a lot

They don’t immediately go back to eachother, instead spending the week with their everyone else and just taking time for themselves

Shinsou knocks on Denki’s door Sunday morning and they finally talk things out

It’s also the first time they say ily!!

Anyways after that fight they work harder on communicating especially when it comes to things like hero work

It’s not perfect bc their dumb traumatized teens but they’re trying and they know their lil family will always be there

I haven’t slept but yes thanks for sticking around if you’re reading this

If ur interested in shinsou’s talk with Kirishima lmk

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Warm

Prompts: Um hi, I love your writing. Would you by any chance want to write a hurt/comfort piece where Janus returns from a meeting with the Light Sides and has a breakdown bc the Light Sides still don’t completely accept him after everything (not in an unsymp way, more in a suspicious-but-not-wanting-or-realizing-that-they-hurt-him-way) and Remus comforts him? Thank you lots (should you choose to write it :D) - anon

If your still up for prompts can you do remus helping to comfort janus after a busy day like he does stuff only dark sides would know that will help janus relax - whitehorsewolf

 Thank you for the asks, babes! 

Read on Ao3

Warnings: sympathetic dark bois

Pairings: can be dukeceit if you want, doesn’t have to be

Word Count: 1998

They’re not mean. They’re just cold.

Patton doesn’t insist that he’s evil and that they should never listen to him, that bar none, lying is wrong, and Thomas is a bad person for even thinking about it. Logan doesn’t throw barb after barb at him, pretending he doesn’t understand sarcasm and using it as an excuse to put down his intelligence. Virgil doesn’t make his life hell every time he dares open his mouth. Roman doesn’t loudly cut him off or glare at him or make fun of everything he says.

 Patton is quiet, asking politely if Janus wouldn’t mind explaining a little more. Logan is clipped, smooth, dispassionate. Virgil never makes eye contact with him but backs him up, every single time. Roman apologizes when he misunderstands and offers solutions for Janus to consider.

 They are considerate, they are careful, and Janus hates it.

 They’re walking on eggshells now, not just with him, but with each other. They speak so carefully that every single word becomes a lie, a lie of omission. Janus’s mouth almost starts to bleed with how bitter it tastes.

 They try. They do their best. And he does have to give them credit because they are trying. They’re trying so hard that it’s killing them. It’s killing him.

 So much is going unsaid so they don’t accidentally hurt anyone else that they’re tearing themselves asunder.

 Is this…what he wanted?

 He certainly didn’t want it to be this cold.

 Janus reaches his door with a groan, opening it and slipping inside. His fingers slide uselessly off the clasps at the front, unable to wrap around anything for long enough to undo the clasp, move the material, even work through the fabric of his gloves. The material saps the warmth from him the longer he can’t get it off, creating a strange warmth paradox where it’s the only thing that kept him standing in that frigid, frigid living room but now it’s wicking away every last speck of his own heat.

 He hisses, his mouth still bone dry from the lies. He manages to get himself over to the heat lamp and bat clumsily at the base, searching desperately for the button to press and make all this cold, cold, cold go away. He misses.

 He grits his teeth and tries again.

 He summons up every last bit of willpower he has and tries again.

 Finally, he hits the button and almost faints with relief. The warmth is there, it’s right there, he just has to…just has to get to it…it’s so close…it’s right there…

 Snakes…snakes don’t do well in the…in the cold…it’s cold…it’s so cold…

 It’s…so…cold…

 …so…

 …cold.

 Janus falls to the floor, his hand outstretched for the warmth of the heat lamp.

 Something bangs on his door.

 Bang. Bang. Bang.

 “Janny!”

 Janus can’t summon up anything to move.

 “Janny, open up, or I’m coming in.”

 He…can’t…move…too…cold…

 “Janny? Janny, you’re not supposed to be the one that’s scary down here.”

 …cold…

 The hinges almost fly off his door as Remus kicks it in. If he weren’t as he currently is, he’d be pissed. As of right now, he’s just…there…lying on the ground…out of the warmth.

 “Jeez, Janny, you’d think that you…were…Jan?”

 Remus’s voice turns from manic glee to concern in less than an instant. Before Janus can blink—snakes don’t have eyelids—Remus is there, next to him, crouched on the floor.

 “What’re you doing over here, Jan,” Remus mutters, “and why are you colder than a polar bear’s butthole?”

 “Re…mus…”

 “Yeah, Jan, it’s me, let’s…alright, let’s get you into the heat, yeah?” Remus grunts and gets his arms under Janus.

 Janus almost groans with how warm Remus feels, even through the thick cloak. Once the heat’s gone it’s gone, replaced quickly by the blazing light of the lamp. Unconsciously, Janus lets his head flop to the side, the scales starting to gleam in the amber glow.

 “Alright, that’s better, now let’s just—alright, here we go—why am I the one uncomfortable right now, is this what it’s like for all of you? It’s awful…”

 If Janus had speech right now, he’d be asking Remus what he was talking about. Instead, all he can do is hiss clumsily as Remus starts to peel the layers off of him. Why is Remus doing this? Is something wrong with him?

 Oh, right, he’s cold.

 A high-pitched whine splits the air. He doesn’t like it. He would rather it stopped, thank you very much. It hurts. Did they leave some electronics on or something? Can this stop now?

 Now Remus is making a shushing noise, what—

 —oh. Is it…

 “Shh, shh, Jan-Jan, it’s okay, hey, uh-uh, Snakey, you look at me now, yeah?”

 Warm. Warm hand on his face. He tries to blink—does he have eyelids now?—and Remus’s face swims into view.

 He’s worried. Remus never looks worried. It softens as soon as Janus can focus on him.

 “Hey, Snakey,” Remus murmurs, “you just stay here, yeah? Be a little snake puddle?”

 The whine keeps going. If anything it gets higher.

 “Shh, shh, shh,” Remus hushes, “if you do too much of that you’ll spread the cold back around you, you gotta be quiet for a little, yeah? I’m gonna get the rest of these off you, but you don’t have to worry.”

 …he’s the one making that noise. Well, that’s embarrassing. He’s sure if he could he’d be blushing right now. But cold-blooded and all that…

 “There you go, Snakey,” comes Remus’s soft voice as those warm hands go back to work, “just stay right here and bask in your heat lamp. I’m gonna help.”

 Janus lets his eyes close as more things start to jostle him lightly. He feels the thick layers being pulled away, exposing more and more scales to the bright light. It’s warm. It’s warm. He sags to the ground and his hands begin to twitch.

 A chuckle comes from somewhere above him.

 “Jan-Jan,” Remus murmurs, much closer, “I’m gonna get your soft stuff to put on and your scale brush, yeah?”

 Janus just hums.

 “When you got speech back you’re gonna tell me what happened,” comes the soft mutter before Remus is gone, leaving Janus there in the warmth.

 Is he…mad? No, not really. The others haven’t done anything wrong, per se, they’re trying their best and it’s…it’s not easy. None of this is easy. As a matter of fact, they’re doing quite well, all things considered. He’s not exactly blameless here, is he?

 Is he sad? That they don’t like him? Yes, a little, but that’s…that’s also not really what’s going on.

 He’s just tired.

 And very, very cold.

 “Hey,” Remus murmurs, having crouched back down, “hey, Snakey, you here with me?”

 “Mm…”

 “Good. Here,” he says, raising a metal straw to Janus’s mouth, “you gotta drink something. You’re not looking so good.”

 Janus opens his mouth and immediately winces when he feels something creak. Remus curses softly and summons something else.

 “Alright, Snakey, I’m gonna sit you up a little. Hey, hey,” he soothes when Janus whines again in protest, “you’re not going anywhere, but you gotta rinse your mouth out. Trust me.”

 Janus lets Remus—he doesn’t have much of a say in this, he’s still far too cold, but he trusts Remus—sit him up and lean him against something, tilted so his mouth is over a bowl.

 “Here,” Remus says, holding up another cup, “it’s just warm water. Try and rinse your mouth out a bit, huh?”

 Janus does, obediently taking a small mouthful and spitting into the bowl. Well, he more just…opens his mouth and lets it fall. There’s blood. And it’s going everywhere because he can’t aim like this.

 “Hey, uh-uh,” Remus murmurs when he mumbles an apology, “you do know who you’re talking to, right Snakey?”

 “’S messy.”

 “If you think these little things are messy then I haven’t been working in the common area enough. Shh, shh,” Remus chuckles when Janus immediately protests, “I’m kidding. Mostly.”

 Janus just keeps washing his mouth until it runs clear and it’s not as bitter anymore. Remus sets the bowl aside and raises the first straw to his mouth again.

 “It’s just warm water and honey, it’s not gonna do anything to you. I promise.”

 “…sure?”

 “I’m sure, Snakey,” Remus hums, holding Janus firmly with his warm, warm arms, “I wouldn’t pull anything when you’re like this.”

 He wouldn’t, Janus knows, he’s just…very tired.

 “There you go…” Remus gentles him back to the ground when he’s had his fill, picking up the dry brush and rubbing it carefully over one of his shoulders. “When was the last time you brushed your scales, Snakey?”

 “…mm.”

 “Oh, Jan-Jan…” Remus shakes his head and strokes the brush down his arm, patiently working across the scales. “There…that’s better.”

 The brush’s stiff bristles slide neatly between the scales and clean out even the most stubborn of detritus. Remus works patiently around the rest of his non-scaled skin. The bristles are too rough when they’re not on the scales. It’s quiet, just the soft buzz of the lamp and the scrape, scrape, scrape of the brush. It’s warm.

 “Snakey,” Remus murmurs after a while, “do you think you can roll over for me?”

 “…must I?”

 “You can talk again,” he chuckles, along with a gentle poke to his belly, “that’s good. And unless you don’t want me to get the other side, you gotta roll over.”

 “…help.”

 “I gotcha.” Remus gently works his hands under Janus’s side and lifts, carefully letting him rest on his stomach. “There…you can breathe okay, yeah?”

 “Mm.”

 “Good.” The brush returns, working slowly over and over the scales. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

 “Nothing.”

 Another gentle poke to his side. “Don’t lie to me, Snakey,” Remus chides, “you don’t let yourself get like this just because.”

 “The others are just…just…mm.”

 “I know, but still.”

 Janus sighs. He tells Remus how the others were cold. Not unkind, just cold. Remus hums, switching the brush to his other hand.

 “It’s gonna take them time, Jan-Jan.”

 “I’m not angry.”

 “But it’s still nice to hear, yeah?”

 “…mm.”

 Remus finishes with the brush and carefully sets it aside, rolling Janus back so he can look at his face. The warmth is starting to seep into his bones, sinking him further and further into the floor. Remus chuckles.

 “You gonna fall asleep there, Snakey?”

 “’S warm.”

 “I know, that’s the point. You can sleep, that’s okay. Want me to stay?”

 Janus reaches out blindly for Remus’s sleeve. Remus lets him pull him down into the shady spot outside the heat lamp, pulling Janus a little closer. He’s not as warm as the heat lamp.

 “If you wanna go ahead and fall asleep there, you do that. I’m not gonna go anywhere.”

 It’s quiet. It’s warm.

 “You’re doing great, Jan,” Remus whispers, “this shit is fucking hard on everybody. It’s gonna be okay.”

 A warm hand settles on his belly, rubbing gentle circles.

 “You rest now,” comes the murmur, growing longer and lower as it slowly becomes the only thing Janus can hear, “rest, Snakey…you’re warm now.”

 Warm…

 “You’re gonna be okay.”

 …warm…

 “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

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[bonny-kookoo]

Pretty Girl (J.JK x Reader)🎀💜☁️🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: (oh boy here we go on this one) good old sprinkle of angst, non-penetrative sex, foreplay, steamy make out session, mild DDLG themes, Dom/Sub dynamics, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Subspace, Teasing, Suggestive gestures, dirty talk, really, like JK can’t shut up smh, Koo is getting kinda rough with GG, sex in the kitchen twice (again), shower sex (pls stay safe), protected sex (again, we wrap it up in this economy and you should too), edging, cumplay, aftercare (a warning bc he’s so soft you might melt fam) yeah I think that’s it

Summary: an accident such as yours mainly affects you, that’s a fact. But people around you, especially Jungkook, may have been more unsettled by the events than he lets on.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl

During your recovery, Jungkook had changed a bit. It was a slow process, yet you noticed the fine details in the way he would treat you a little differently. It wasn't a bad change in any way- you guessed it was just because of the shock he'd gotten after the accident, which was totally understandable. Your dynamic had always been quite cliche in a way, with his bad-boy persona and your gentle nature. He seemed like the big bad wolf while you were the red riding hood, innocent and emotional. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

So how exactly did things change? Well, he wouldn't leave you alone for starters. It wasn't like he didn't give you space or anything, but he was more.. needy in terms of skinship. Whenever he played video games for example, he'd sit you on his lap, have you sit in between his legs with your back against his chest, or simply your head on his thighs when you were taking a nap or reading on your phone. When you both slept he'd be more clingy towards you than before, always reaching out to either hold your hand or have an arm around your middle. He started to become almost dependent on your affection and attention, and it was cute, you admitted that; yet it also made you worry a bit. It has been a week since you had gotten your stitches removed, yet he still seemed on edge. You hoped it would dissolve over time, yet you told yourself to talk to him about it if it continued. Something was going on in his head, that much you knew, but what exactly it was you didn't.

Getting back from grocery shopping, you immediately went to take one of the bags out of Jungkooks' carrying hand, one which held the ingredients for todays dinner in it. Yet he raised it up, making you pout. "Ah-ah Babygirl, 'lemme unpack the other bag and then we'll cook." He said, and you nodded, a bit suspicious. His culinary skills weren't.. too impressive if you were being completely honest. He knew how to cook ramen in his sleep at this point, but that was pretty much it. He'd also never shown much interest in cooking before, happily watching you cook- and that was fine with you too. You always found cooking and baking almost therapeutic, making something giving you a feeling of success you would crave on days were you felt low.

Yet once he'd unpacked everything, putting all the items into their proper place, it got obvious that this time around, you wouldn't cook anything. Because just as you had started to get out a cutting board, strong arms suddenly wrapped around your middle, his nose brushing over the crook of your neck playfully. He slowly walked you away from where you were trying to work, and backed you up against the counter next to where you'd put the cutting board. "Jungkookie I gotta cook-" You whined, but he wasn't having it.

"Nop, come on. Up." He said, but his eyes didn't hold the usual impish spark they usually had whenever he had something different in mind. You complied, simply because it was an instinct at this point, and he grabbed your hips to help you sit on the counter. "Tell me what I need to do, and I'll cook." He said, already searching for a knife. You furrowed your brows at him.

"Jungkook you never cook." You questioned, leaning your head to the side to show your confusion. He chuckled at that, mumbling something about maybe needing to change that, when you were suddenly grabbing his wrist which held the knife, making his head snap to it in horror. He was about to say something when you moved the hand to cup his cheek. Now it was his turn to be confused. "What's really going on 'Koo?" You asked, and his tongue started to move against the inner lining of his cheek, pulling his lower lip between his teeth- a sign that he was clearly nervous. "Is it still because of what happened? I'm fine Kookie, really." You said, and he sighed, placing his larger hand on your thigh, thumb slowly running in circles over your skin. He did kind of looked like a kid getting lectured, yet it also showed you that you were hitting a nerve. "Don't get me wrong, I love how close you keep me these days, and I adore how gentle you are with me, but 'Koo.." you said, making him look at you. "You're not being yourself." You said, and he ran the hand that wasn't occupied through his hair.

"I actually don't know either." He grumbled, yet you knew he wasn't being too honest. Your gaze was still demanding, needing a proper answer, and he suddenly sat down at the kitchen table, head in his hands. You carefully jumped down the counter- well, not really jumping but sliding off with one foot reaching for the floor to balance you. The doctors told you getting the entire functionality of your legs back would take a while, and you still needed physiotherapy every week, but that didn't mean that you always took their advice. You usually got your ass smacked by karma personally though, as you would get punished with agonizing muscle cramps if you overdid it during the day. Jungkook would gently massage your legs if it happened, a worried and almost apologetic glint in his eyes whenever he did it, always the hero who wants to take the pain away- though he couldn't, and that made him feel helpless, useless even. He's still feeling guilty, yet he's also not talking about it, dancing around the topic as if he had to try and explain to his parents that he'd gotten someone pregnant on accident. It felt uncomfortable since he never truly had to stand up for his mistakes, and even now he technically didn't have to since it wasn't even his fault- but he felt like he did. "I'm having nightmares." He mumbled lowly, face still in his hands. You sat down next to him, unsure what to do.

You decided you would give him the same treatment whenever you had a nightmare back when you were younger; your mother a firm believer that these unpleasant dreams could only be resolved if you talked about them. "Tell me about them." You said, not asking like you usually would. He shook his head, taking a deep breath as if he would prepare himself to bury the pictures again until he'd eventually had to face them tonight again. He didn't tell you, but he never really slept an entire night ever since you'd gotten back from the hospital. He would wake up in a cold night's sweat, craving to turn the lights on like a frightened child in fear of not being awake yet, yet he only settled with shining his phone screen on your form, calming himself down by counting every breath you took, each one proof that you were okay, that you were just fine, that you were still beside him. "Koo please. I wanna help you.." You pleaded, a soft whine to your voice, slowly making cracks in his walls. You sat down on the floor next to his slightly turned chair, making him snap his gaze at you, wondering what you were doing. You simply placed your hands on his thigh, your chin resting on them to look up at him with puppy eyes. Maybe this would make him talk. He chuckled, patting his lap after scooting back a bit. You gladly sat down on his thigh, legs dangling between his, his arm resting around your middle, fingers playing nervously with the hem of your skirt.

"They're about you." He started, swallowing, eyes not meeting yours. You decided to just lay your head on his shoulder, hugging his chest and making it easier for him to talk by not looking at him. "It's either- like.. sometimes it's the moment I ran to you when.. when you were uh.. laying on the sidelines you know? But I can't.." He took a breath, now tightening his grip on the small part of fabric. "I can't get to you I just- you're-.. I can't get closer, all I see is that young dude trying to like, do something, this like- Urgh I don't remember the word for it like- this shit where you push onto your chest to keep your heart beating, you know, that stuff.." His voice is wavering a bit you start to notice. You simply nod into his neck, giving him a sign that you're listening. "It always ends with the ambulance arriving, and they- fuck.. they just put this trashbag shit over you and I- god. I.." His voice gets a bit higher, a sign that he's close to tears. Yet you let him go on. "The uhm.. the other one is, like.." He inhales deeply again, and you tighten your grip on him, making him let go of your skirt, but instead put both his arms around you. "I'm like, at a churche and, oh god, you're like, in a casket, I know it's you, but every time I want to look inside the fucking thing closes, like, slams onto my hands, and I wake up. Like when you dream of these weird staircases where you stumble you know and you like wake up instantly." He said, hand moving to gently run through your hair.

"Do you still feel guilty about it?" You asked softly, quietly, because you didn't need to be louder due to the amount of distance you both only had. He simply nodded his head, still looking down. You knew it wouldn't help him if you went on and on about how it wasn't his fault at all, how he had no say in things like that whatsoever, that no one had, because that was exactly what hurt him. Jungkook was a bit cliche when it came to things like these; he wanted and craved control, he needed it to ground himself, which may was the reason he felt so comfortable and good around you. You both fit together perfectly because of this, since you came from a family where independence was taught from a very early age, having a father who'd demanded you to move out as soon as you had turned 18, and a mother who showed you how to run a household when you were just a little girl. While he loved being in control, you craved to let go and be lead without having to fear to be used like you'd been before. Yet right now exactly this character trait of his was making him feel miserable. "That's fine." You finally said, making him hum, urging you to explain that statement. "It's okay that you feel bad, it's understandable." You mumbled, nuzzling the crook of his neck. "Wake me up next time please. You wake me up when you have nightmares, and I'll let you carry me around as much as you want-"

"Deal." He said with a smirk, happy that the tension was finally snapping and letting go, clearing the air around you both. He indeed felt a bit lighter now, as typical as it sounded. Yet you always knew what to say, and it felt good to talk about it, that was something he had to admit. "I love you." He blurted out, and he could practically feel your cheeks heat up against his skin. He chuckled, hand slowly creeping under your soft sweater, caressing your bare skin underneath until he could feel the edge of your bra. You knew what he was hinting at, by now familiar with his need to be close to you after moments like these. It was times like this when he felt most vulnerable yet also the most sensitive to things- like a nerve stripped bare of its fleshy armor. It may seemed odd, but it was his way of grounding himself again, giving his pride and overall confidence a restart after having him expose his feelings like this. You happily agreed, nosing at his neck before kissing, making him smile. His hand opened your bra with well practiced movements, before he slipped his hand underneath the cup, caressing your breast in a gentle gesture.

You moved around a bit, spreading your legs over his lap to dangle off his thighs, palms stopping your hands from moving your sweater over your head. "uh-uh baby, you're gonna get cold." He mumbled before leaning in to kiss your lips, immediately feeling a sense of euphoria he would've never thought he could feel from a gesture like this alone. You whined a bit, but he simply deepened the kiss, tongue demanding entrance you happily gave him. Your hips moved on their own, yet it was in vain with how far he'd your legs spread, not giving you any chance of friction. He loved how your hands moved to only grip the hem of his jeans, yet not going further- it wasn't that you didn't want to, oh hell you did- but recently, he'd started to give you certain rules. Just for fun of course, mostly his, but you had agreed to them, so it was your fault of you wanted to complain- which you certainly didn't. He loved how it just added to his ego, yet it also filled him with a sense of even more will to protect you. If that made sense. "Hm? What is it?" He mumbled between his kisses, eyes still closed, as well as yours. They only opened a fraction once you whined, mumbling something he didn't hear clearly enough. "Louder princess. I can't hear you." He said, a teasing tone to it.

"I said uh.." You started, looking at him, eyes almost hazy. He loved this look on you, as if you slipped into a different mindset around him. He knew by now that you actually did, he'd read about it online, and he felt powerful yet also filled with pride on how much trust you had in him to let yourself go like that. "I said can I please have it?" You mumbled out, cheeks read and oh so endearing to him. He smiled at that, moving his hand over your cheek, having you lean into it like a touch starved animal.

"Good girl. Can you say it clearer though? What do you want?" He asked, and you slowly lowered your gaze, mumbling something incoherent again, and he chuckled. "Alright alright, small steps. We're getting there." Jungkook had started to make it a regular thing to try and get you to communicate with him more clearly, even in a state like this. After all the mishaps you both had in the past due to bad communication between you, he decided that things needed to change. He slowly placed your hands on his shoulders so you couldn't slip off of him, and carefully unbuckled his belt. "Hm.. but I can't put it in baby, you know that right?" He said gently, and you nodded, even if you pouted a bit. It wasn't that he didn't want to go bare, but you didn't take birth control because you hated any form of pills, and he understood that, never pressuring you. He however didn't believe in 'pulling-out' being a good idea since he knew he would never be able to control himself to this extend- so you both agreed on using condoms, just to be safe. Both of you were definitely not ready to parents yet, that was for sure. "Alright." He said, grabbing your skirt and moving the fabric out of the way so your underwear was exposed to him. The darkened fabric was already glistening as he playfully ran two fingers over the spot, making you whine and shift around impatiently. Laughing again he pulled himself out of his underwear, before grabbing your behind and showing you closer to him until his length pushed against your folds, finally giving you a form of release. you wrapped your arms around his neck, moving your hips while he made sure to push himself against you in a similar rhythm. breathing heavily, the tension began to rise around you, air feeling stuffy and thick as he squeezed your behind with both hands, grumbling sounds of pleasure against your neck, mouthing against your skin. He was quick to get both of you to the edge, shamelessly letting himself cum over your underwear as he sighed contently. You seemed to get sleepy, arms pulling him closer, whining when he moved you to get down from his lap. "We only had a small breakfast to eat, and I won't let my princess starve in this household." He mumbled, speaking to you in a deep and low voice you could drown yourself in. His gaze fell on your inner thigh, still glistening from his and your releases, and he stood up, playfully slapping a Hand against your butt. "Now go you messy baby, first to get clean gets to eat the leftover shortcake!" He said in excitement, and you wordlessly ran (still a bit wobbly, but way better than weeks prior) to your bedroom, Jungkook gladly letting you win.

"Are you sure I'm not supposed to lift the lid- OW!" Jungkooks intense need to look and check on everything was funny, but also nervwrecking to say the least. He wouldn't even let the pasta cook in peace, constantly trying to lift the lid- even though you told him several times before that no, they won't burn, and yes, the lid is indeed very hot. You had the lid a little tilted so the steam could escape a bit better, and you had told him seemingly a hundred times prior to just leave it like that, but this was Jungkook we were talking about. The lid clattered a bit as it closed on top of the pot, he himself sheepishly turned around to you who stood behind him, looking at him with a gaze that clearly said 'I told you so'. Yet he would never truly listen to you, as funny as that would be. "You gotta kiss it better now!" He exclaimed, and you laughed at his wide eyed look as he held his pointer and middle finger in your direction, the tips of his digits slightly red. You kind of wanted to tell him not to be a crybaby about it, but two could play his games of teasing- and you felt proud at the way his eyes widened even further with the next bold move you made. Typically you never did things like this, but over time you had slowly become more and more comfortable around him, giving you more and more confidence and ease in your actions around him. Proof of that had been the fact that you had started to grow more self-assured whenever you gave him oral- something you had never thought you'd do before being with him. Gabbing his hand with both of yours, you kissed the tips of his fingers before boldly placing them insider your mouth, soft lips closing around them. His pupils dilated dangerously, and this was one of those moment's you could've sworn his entire eyeshape changed- his typical doe eyes becoming slender and sharp, as he pushed his fingers down on your tongue, making you open your mouth. His own lips parted a bit at the sight, the way you showed him such an amount of pure submissiveness making him feel almost high of some sort- yet the moment was broken at the sizzling sound of the water dripping down the sides of the pot, the closed lid making the water foam angrily down onto the stove.

You both had split apart from one another like it was your hands touching the hot plate and not the water, and the way you scrambled to turn around and pretend like setting the table was the most interesting thing to do. Jungkook had swallowed hard, grabbing the red and blue oven mitts to take the pot from the heat source, shutting the oven down and draining the pasta. You meanwhile had to calm yourself down, now in a weird state of- well, what was is? Embarrassment maybe? Possible. Yet you didn't have time to think about it much when you heard the fabric of the gloves Jungkook had used to not get burned, hitting the stone counter with a little more force than they should. The man in question had stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you worried that maybe something had happened- automatically assuming that it was your wrongdoing that had set him off. Studying the wooden surface of the dining table, still bare of any porcelain you should've put out by now, you didn't notice how he'd crept into the room again, hard gaze and frustrated features. You only did too late when his hands had already turned you around by your shoulders, hooking underneath your arms to place you ontop of the table with ease. With almost comically wide eyes you stared at his- a look of determination sparkling behind their dark color. "Oh you thought you could get away with that pretty girl?" He almost growled, a rough edge to the low tone of his voice. "Thought you could just tease me like that, hm?" He said, suddenly not too concerned about you getting cold as he swept the soft sweater over your head, making quick work of your bra underneath with frustrated noises when your arm couldn't escape one of the straps fast enough. His hands instantly kneaded at the flesh, relishing in the soft feel of them before he dipped his head down, leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck, hands wandering lower until they moved to caress the backs of your thighs. "Hm pretty girl is getting playful isn't she?" He mumbled, chuckling darkly before moving his head away to stand to his full height, pulling on your knees to have your behind almost slip over the edge. You made a surprised sound at this, scared you'll fall off when he hushed you, tipping his head to the side a bit impishly, almost a teasing ghost of a smile on his lips. "Oh? Not so bold now aren't you baby?" He said, looming over you again, his hard on present against your core, making you move your hips, testing if it would be enough friction. He raised an eyebrow at this, hand coming down on your hip to still you. "If you wanna stop just say 'red', okay princess?" His voice was sincere, a bit higher even as he spoke to you, face serious. You whined, not in the mood to talk, but he moved a hand to still your face, grabbing around your chin softly. "No baby, I need an answer. Loud and clear this time." He said, and you pouted at him, yet complied, telling him that you understood. It was a little heartwarming to see his concern even in a situation like that if you weren't so turned on at this point. He smiled, before he removed your skirt, impatiently shoving your damp panties down your legs, not bothering for you to kick them off at this point. Grabbing the fabric of the back of his shirt he pulled it over his head in a swift move, hair a mess over his eyes, barely giving you enough view of his gaze. Your eyes trailed over his tattoos, mesmerized every time you saw them. His muscles flexed underneath his skin as he pulled his jeans down together with his underwear, deep V-line standing out against the rest of his bodily structure. He grabbed something next to your head before opening the foil package, rolling the latex protection over his length quickly before moving your legs to fold over your body to rest against your stomach, eyes locked with yours for any signs of discomfort. When he found none, he moved his attention lower, pupils dilating at the view of your very center so ready for him. Not even needing to get himself any harder than he already was since your small situation just minutes prior, he entered you in a slow motion, bathing in the view of his manhood disappearing inside you inch by inch, your whines serving as the music accompanying the scene for him. Oh he knew he'd never get tired of that view, he could happily die with this picture as his last in front of his eyes. Your hands reached for his, interlacing your fingers with his, himself using this to his advantage to keep you as close to him as possible as he picked up his pace. He didn't care about the legs of the table complaining a bit as they scraped over the kitchen tiles with the force he started to put into his motion, mind too deep into the moment to think about that right now. His thoughts were absolutely occupied by you, everything about you- the fact your skin always seemed to glow, looking and feeling so soft underneath his fingers, a perfect match for your equally delicate personality hidden underneath all that physique. "Ah-" He sighed, never letting neither of you have a break. "You're all mine, all mine.." He breathed out, until you squeezed his hands a bit, making him look up at you. You didn't say anything yet he could spot a bit of discomfort behind your eyes, slowing down a bit to let you breathe better. "Hng.. legs-" You started, and Jungkook looked at you, waiting for you to continue. "..they'gettin tingly.." You said, and he could see how hard it was for you to really form any coherent thought, let alone form a sentence. Yet he only smiled, moving you both around a bit, stretching your legs out before he entered you again, this time a bit more comfortably for you. "Good job Baby, thank you- ah- thanks for telling me.." He mumbled, kissing your lips desperately before his hand grabbed your chin again, opening your mouth for him to explore. His hands held you securely by the back of your knees, his hair starting to cling to his forehead with the help of his sweat which was slowly building up at this point. He breathed heavily, eyes never leaving your form, drinking you in like he was a parched man roaming the desert. Surely, your whines started to stretch longer and longer, an indication that you were getting close, making Jungkook pick up his pace, huffing a bit as his own release drew closer as well. The way your legs pulled out of his grasp, your core clenching around him had him spill his load inside the condom, groaning as he did so, gulping down breaths alongside you who laid flat on the table in front of him, his body only held up by his forearms above you, forehead resting on your collarbone. He chuckled after a bit, before finally standing up again. "We should really stop fucking in the kitchen." He said between a laugh, and you looked at him scandalously as if you wanted to deny having any part in this. "Oh don't look at me like that, you enjoyed it too!" He said, helping you stand up for a short moment before he placed his arm underneath your knees, the other supporting your back behind your shoulders. Carrying had seemingly never been an issue for him, no matter how exhausted he might seemed sometimes.

Walking into the bathroom, you went to do your business, (Jungkook insisting you did, even though you had told him you didn't have to pee) and the young man started the shower, water not as hot as he would like it to be, since he knew that you didn't like too hot showers- you were more for hot baths, something he was wary off after you had overdone it one time and went dizzy afterwards. After that situation, he would always sneakily check the water temperature before you would enter, sometimes adding cold water to it so you wouldn't overheat like last time. When you didn't join him after a bit, he peeked his head out of the patterned glass doors, spotting you sitting on the closed toilet seat, seemingly waiting. He chuckled, waving his hand to catch your attention. "Come on doll, we gotta save water, be all environment friendly 'n shit." He said laughing, and you walked over to him inside the shower to let the water fall onto both of you. He immediately grabbed a bottle of yours and his favorite body wash, rubbing his hands together with the lotion between it to warm it up as to not startle you, before he grabbed the purple loofah from the side, lathering it in the soap before he ran it across your backside, careful and completely immersed into the task at hand. He made sure not to scrub as relentless and speedy as he would on his own body, making sure to rinse the foam off of you as well. Something that always got to him was just how petite you looked compared to himself; his hands had started to get a bit rough from working so much these days, a stark contrast to your soft skin. He was fascinated by the very slight and faded scars you had on your skin, all hidden like these 'spot the cat between the owl' pictures. There was one on your arm near the side of your wrist; a burn you had told him before when you had started to work at a bakery. He could spot another one behind your ear, a mark that had wandered overtime, the only real evidence of when you fell off a tree when you were six. Then there were the most recent ones, still bright and present, a stitched line above your right hipbone, as well as some healed scratches all over that side of your body- but these small cracks in your porcelain form would heal completely, they would fade just like the pain he'd felt that day. When he turned you around to wash your front, even though you told him you could do it, he spotted different marks. Like the small birthmarks littered like stars forming a constellation, or the stretch marks most present on the inside of your upper thighs- something you hated, yet he saw them as proof that your body has grown, that you could even catch your own skin by surprise at this point. Whenever his hand ran over that part he could faintly feel the dents, yet it didn't gross him out at all. It made him feel fascinated, because all of this was proof that you were indeed a human being, and not the angle he always found himself mistaking you as. Gently, you took the loofah from him, using his own bodywash, before you repeated the same task on him. He smiled softly down on you, humored by the fact that you had to look up to actually reach his shoulders. Just as you were about to tell him to turn around, his eyes suddenly sharpened impishly, as he reached out to pull on the shower controls, switching to the detachable showerhead instead of the overhead one. For the first time he himself had no intention of satisfying himself in a sense of traditional release, but in another way. As he tapped his shoulders for you to grab onto so you wouldn't fall, he slowly pushed the showerhead against your center, your squeaks and the way your fingers gripped onto his flesh feeding his inner predatory soul. He increased the amount of water flowing through the silver-striped waterhose, the pressure on your delicate nerves leveling up simultaneously. You tried to close your legs but to no avail, the metal not giving away against your soft muscles. Your entrance clenched around nothing as your bundles suddenly snapped like a rubber band pulled too hard, leaving you yelping as you almost jumped at Jungkook, trying to escape his weapon of pleasure and the oversensitivity- but he had reacted fast enough, lowering the pressure so that you could ride it out pleasently, whining a bit while taking deep, shuddering breaths, your arms now locked around his neck, head against his chest. He smiled, the view and action giving him enough satisfaction that he didn't even think about you returning the favor.

After Dinner, you both had made yourself at home on your shared bed, watching a random drama on his scratched up laptop, him sometimes groaning at the fact that the charging cable disconnected randomly sometimes, darkening the screen for a second until he rearranged the already taped cable. You had offered to get your laptop from the other room, but he didn't want you to get up, telling you that it worked just fine. At some point you had yawned, eyes closing for the fraction of seconds it seemed, but in reality it was for more than three, sometimes more. Jungkook noticed how increasingly tired you got, kissing your head before he closed the laptop after pausing the video. He set it down onto the floor next to the bed, shutting off the light and pulling the covers over your bodies, arms immediately reaching around your body, pulling you close. "Hey, 'Koo?" You said after a bit, now awake again after remembering something. He hummed, giving you an indication that he was listening. "..nevermind. Goodnight." He hummed again, before he moved, snapping on the light next to the bed, pushing himself up on his elbow.

"Come on." He said, and you turned around, looking at him with squinted eyes because of the light.

You stared at his neck as you talked. "I dunno.. didn't you want something too, like, when we were in the shower.?" You asked, and he shook his head no. "But like, now I feel bad cause only I got something and you didn't.." You said, and he simply smiled.

"Nah. Its okay really." He said, but your pouting face said otherwise. "Hm.. I mean, I guess there's something I always kind of wanted.." He said, and your eyes widened at that, sparkling with the challenge he just declared to you. He loved how much you trusted him, not even knowing what he was implying, yet already willing to go all in just for his happiness and approval for you. He moved, looming over you. "I'm gonna be pretty mean though.." He said, voice low as he tipped his head to the side a bit, feigning innocence. "..you think pretty girl can take it?" he sing-songed, chuckling at your nodding after his question, and he soon made his hands roam under your shirt running over your chest, feeling your soft buds beginning to peak at his sensual touch, your body already responding to him. He really didn't need anything from you at all, the way you were giving yourself to him had been payment enough, yet he also couldn't hide his own need of being a little selfish once in a while. There certainly were things roaming around in his head that he wanted to turn into reality, yet the perfect timing to talk about it had never been quite right. Now could be the time though. You nodded cutely at him, and he grinned like the wolf in the red riding hood story, ready to feast on his prey like the canine predator pictured in the books. Yet the way he would be devouring you would proof to be way more sinful than what those stories could've ever told about. As he began to push his knee in between your legs, letting you grind against his bare skin through the cloth of your underwear like the desperate being you were, even if you were on the verge of falling asleep just seconds ago, he sighed at the way your face relaxed in pleasure, head pushing a little into the soft pillows underneath, hands reaching for his skin to get any form of physical contact you could get. He grabbed you by your wrists, pushing them into the soft sheets on the mattress you both laid on, ripping his knee and your only source of friction and pleasure away from you as soon as he noticed that you were close. You whined at this, pouting at him as you slowly connected the dots in your head, finally coming to the conclusion of what his intentions would be for the night; and he cooed at you teasingly. "Oh, what is it pretty girl?" He said, brushing your hair back to reveal the entirety of your face to him. "You said you'd take it didn't you? Or did my good girl lie to me, hm?" He hummed, eyes slimming down to slits, his dominating demeanor finally coming to the surface; a fact that you could not yet place as good or bad. "I don't think you did, princess. Good girls never lie.." He chimed, slowly ridding yourself of your underwear, pulling them down your legs until he deemed enough time had passed to continue for the second attempt. This time his hand found its way downtown, reaching between your already shimmering legs to push two of his fingers insider your core, gentle movements way too slow to actually push you anywhere near over the edge. It was like standing on a bridge; you could see the deep waters below, but the railings would always keep you from falling. He was relentless, ever the tease, feeding off of your desperate soft please under your breath, wanting, no needing to hear them more clearly. So once he felt you get close for another time, he sped up his movements for a second, making you wheep out before he pulled away as if burned, pushing his knees between your legs so you were forced to stay open and bare like that, breaths coming out short and cut to pieces. He hushed you again, gently running his warm hand over your lower abdomen, thumb running in circles just below your navel, as he loomed over you again, his hair falling onto your forehead, curled strands tickling your skin. Your eyes were closed shut, frustrated huffs of air escaping you as you peeked one eye open at him, making him chuckle. "Hm.. not quite there yet I think." He mumbled, his thumb pulling your lower lip from between your teeth, opening your mouth for him to kiss you deeply for a moment, helping your body and mind to calm down for a bit. It did nothing to soothe your lower regions, but it did help you to ground yourself at least a little bit, before he moved his body again, this time hooking your legs over his broad shoulders by the back of your knees, grinning sheepishly at you from his spot on his stomach facing your core, licking his lips before he placed his mouth against you, tongue making its way over your most sensitive bundle of nerves in a slow and agonizing motion. He took his time, playing around for a while just how he thought was fitting, eating away like a starved man who was trying to savor every little bite, before he pulled away with a wet noise, just before you could slip from his grasp. You sobbed drily without tears, pleading loudly this time, before he changed his position yet again, pushing his length inside as slow as he could, staying inside of you for a moment, before pulling out again, grabbing a condom from the bedside table and putting it on, chuckling as his own hips bucked a bit at the sheer sensitivity he'd gained at this point. He pushed inside after a bit again, careful not to touch your pulsing pearl as to not accidentally let you cum, bringing himself to a short release before he reached for your hands which clenched the sheets so tightly he was scared you'd hurt yourself. As soon as the still sensitive tip of his length had gently popped out of you, he could see the way your legs quivered, trying to desperately close up, get any sort of friction, tight hole clenching around nothing; it was an almost magical sight to him, really. He moved his hand over your center, gathering the slick of your body and moving his hand all the way to your chest, softly running his digits over the smooth flesh of one of your breast, humming gentle tunes to you. „Hm, you’re doing so well, you’re so good for me, that’s the last one okay?“ he hummed to you, eyes softening at your glistening ones, tears of frustration gathering over your eyes, clouding and blurring his image for you until you blinked them away, letting them run down your cheeks. The back of his other hand gathered them before they could travel far, wiping them away and kissing your cheeks in return, smile on his lips never wavering. „You’re so, so so good, gonna stop being mean now, okay doll?“ he said and you shook your head yes frantically, making him chuckle. „Then lemme see you fly little dove..” he mumbled, catching you by surprise as he shoved himself back inside you were he felt like he belonged, his pace relentless, inked hand reaching between your bodies to glide over your already pulsating pearl below. Your neck pushed your head into the pillows beneath, mouth opening in a silent scream, as your back arched into his chest, his eyes never leaving your form as you came with the feeling of pure euphoria. And even though it had only lasted seconds, the view alone had made him release as well, mouth frantically attaching to your neck, mouthing at the skin, biting, groaning, his entire body reacting to the way your hands scrambled to hold onto him, thighs shaking, legs pulling him closer. He truly had been a pure moron to miss out on a feeling like this before; yet he was sure that he could only fly that high with you as his wings. It has never happened before to him, but he actually came again as well, surprising himself which made him moan in a pitch higher than usual. He gasped, falling down next to you after he discarded the condom into the bin next to the bed, pulling you close immediately, needing to have you against his skin.

Jungkook was a man who only knew how to convey his feelings sexually. He never was someone to enjoy physical affection like cuddling or kissing, he was clumsy with his words, and he always found typical dates cliche and cringey. Yet he caught himself like this again, with your body in his arms, the window letting in the sun from outside, warm light creating glowing patterns on your exposed skin mimicking the stripes of the blinds. He couldn't help but feel like this was the most aesthetic thing he'd ever seen, wanting to take a picture of it but also not wanting to move and wake you in the process. This was your doing, the way he slowly changed over time, growing more and more into a person he actually started to like whenever he looked into the mirror. He no longer was the guy that stared back at him with eyes full of judgement, but a young man who's gaze was full of determination and confidence. And slowly this confidence wasn't just a mask, but genuine. And it made him sigh with a smile, closing his eyes to catch some more sleep with you and maybe even meet you in his dreams.

"Why are my shirts pink?!"

"You put my red skirt into the wash with the white laundry I guess?"

"Wait ...you're not supposed to do that?"

Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Team Tokyo First Years + Mario Kart headcanons 

(Ft. Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, you & commentary from Sukuna)

This disaster happened because Yuji was bored. Isn't this how most shenanigans at Jujutsu Tech start?

Yuji was going through old boxes he never unpacked. Yeah, it's been months. He's lazy.

He found this one that he didn't pack himself. He pulled it out of the storage closet when Gojo helped him move from Sendai to Tokyo and he just grabbed it

He wonders what's in it

Its mostly full of cords he has no idea what they go to, a couple of headphones and

uwu what's this

Oh my gOD IT'S HIS WII

This thing is 12 y/o he hadn't seen it in at least 6 does it even still work

Looks like the controllers and cords are here let's plug it in

IT WORKS

Oh god it's so old

Okay what games are there

Just Dance, Wii Sports, Mario Kart, Cooking Ma-

MARIO KART OH GOD THE NOSTALGIA

This was his absolute favorite game to play as a kid

Can you believe he's never played it with anyone else?

He's gotta get the gang here

He texts the group chat and proposes they have a game night

Surprisingly the students answer his text really quick; Gojo seems to be off doing who knows what

Megumi knocks and lets himself in. He's only here because he has nothing better to do. That and if he had ignored the text all Yuji would do is bang on the wall or worse- come to his door

Nobara barges in as usual- why is she carrying so much stuff

Guess who just got free LED lights for their room to "set the mood?" 

Uhhh Nobara why are you wearing a tracksuit it's fucking Mario Kart

Oh she's very serious about this

At least she brought snacks

You didn't even read that Mario Kart was involved you just wanted to hang out with Yuji

Okay let's get started Megumi wants to go home even if he is enjoying the bonding time

Nobara curls up in Yuji's bed as if it's her own; Megumi picks a comfy spot on the floor with his back against the bed; Yuji chooses his beanbag chair; you pick [Yuji's lap, next to Megumi w/ your legs across his lap, cuddled up with Nobara]

While Yuji picks out the perfect playlist to play from his speakers, Nobara takes the liberty of going through the Wii.

She has to make herself a Mii it's a rule

This takes like thirty minutes by itself

She edits Yuji's Mii to look more like him (since he made it when he was about eight) and names it Himbo

She makes you a Mii while over-exaggerating your height (by making it very short or very tall) and names it Pookie

She makes Megumi a Mii real fast and names it Cranky BitchBoy

Yuji tells her to be nice

She changes it to Emo Sea Urchin

Good enough

After an hour passes, they're finally ready to play

Except Yuji only put batteries in one controller and he has no batteries

They tear his room apart before finally stealing batteries from his headphones and remotes

Nobara waits until now to announce she can only race with the steering wheel

....and Megumi prefers the nunchuck to motion controls are you fucking-

Yuji tears the box apart and manages to find a fucking steering wheel and a fucking nunchuck

Okay, can we start now?

Mario Kart: Wii!! Wahoo!

Alright; should we play teams or-

"It's bad enough I have to work with you guys in real life, no"

You and Nobara are on team red, the boys on team blue

She makes it very clear she's going to make them eat her dust

She didn't say it that way btw, that's the most polite way of putting it

Yuji chooses Waluigi because he's a meme and makes funny WAAAA noises

Megumi chooses Yoshi because he's a medium character. Medium characters have a field advantage because smaller characters get bumped around while larger characters have drag. Also-

Nobara chooses Daisy because "Damn they made her so thicc".

You choose [character]

Yuji is so eager to play he doesn't care what kart he chooses

Megumi takes forever to decide between a kart or bike and finally chooses the Sneakster

Nobara chooses the Mach Bike bc of how it makes her character look

You choose [cart/bike]

You four argue over what course to do

So you end up taking turns choosing

Nobara pauses halfway through the first race because her character won't fucking turn

Yuji insists it isn't the controller so they trade for one round

Its the controller

Upon further inspection, it was deemed that it looked like the controller had been soaked in some sort of juice

It was the grape soda incident of 2010

Okay gotta get a new controller

Okay it's fixed

Yuji forgot 1) he was player one and 2) he wasn't Yoshi (his normal character) and spent two laps staring at the wrong screen

He still finished 11th. Nobara finished 7th, you finished 3rd and Megs finished 2nd

Yuji ended up catching up really fast until he started showing Nobara tips

See Nobara claimed she knew everything about the game

So Yuji showed her how to flick the remote when she jumped and how to hold the go button down when the countdown was at 2 

She rlly did leave him in the dust

Yuji and Nobara lean their whole bodies with the controller while Megumi sits completely still

Nobara gets way into this game I stg she screams and yells and kicks her feet I hate it

She tries to bump your and Yuji's controllers to throw you off

"Noba-chan, I'm on your team"

"I don't give a fUCK STOP BEATING ME"

"IM ON YOUR TEAM"

"AHHHHHHHH"

Slap fight ensues

At some point, Toge comes and knocks on the door because he can hear the screaming from all the way down the hall

"Are you guys...okay?" -Inumaki language

Nobara just complains, so he leaves

You and Megumi are so fucking good at this game

Nobara starts targeting you two with shells until she realizes you're on her team and they don't hurt you

"Truce?"

All you can do is sigh

At some point, Sukuna comes out 

He thinks he's a sports commentator

He announces every little thing, like when someone falls or gets shelled

Which always makes Yuji look away from his screen

Sukuna proceeds to bully Yuji for running into walls, falling off, etc.

You laugh but quit when Yuji pouts

Nobara doesn't stop laughing

Despite Yuji being an idiot and having to be carried by Megumi, blue team wins

Nobara throws her controller and screams some more

Yuji breaks out into hysterics for some reason

Megumi sighs. He gets ready to go home but-

"Sit down Fushiguro that was just a warm-up round"

Okay, fine, he'll just beat her again

Nobara pulls you and Yuji to the side

"We gotta beat Fushiguro"

Yuji was bribed with food

No teams this time

"Let's do Rainbow Ro-" "NO" 

Daisy's Circuit it is 

"Hey Yuu-chan can I play a song"

"Sure name-chan"

"Hey Alexa play Move Bitch by Ludacris"

AHAHAHHAHAHA MOVE BITCH GET OUT THE WAY

This is Nobara's song. She is invincible with this song.

Maybe it really was a warm-up round, Nobara is doing much better this time

She's in first place

It looks like Megumi is getting bored, he's falling back, losing his lead

Now if his calculations are correct, when you're in last place you're more likely to get-

Bingo

"Kugisaki, do you love me?"

"What the fuck, are you going soft on me Fushigu- don't you fucking dare"

"Goodbye Kugisaki"

"STOP STOP HOW DO I AVOID A BLUE SHELL ITADORI"

"YOU CAN'T YOU'RE FUCKED"

"FUCK FUCK FUCK"

Nobara doesn't finish the race due to the fact she is throwing a temper tantrum. She throws her controller so hard she breaks the wheel, controller and puts a dent in the wall

He hides it with a poster btw

Megumi wins.

"Avenge me, name-chan"

"Noba-chan we have one last race we can still beat him"

Nobara is PUMPED

Oh my god when no was looking Megumi chose Rainbow Road

Okay pause

Whoever falls off the most is gonna be the person who fell of the least's bitch for the week

Sinister laughing ensues

In conclusion: Yuji is now your bitch

Yujikuna gets bitchslapped for making dirty remarks

Nobara is the first to tap out due to lack of controller and ends up feeding you chips while you race

You tap out and end up snuggling with Nobara as the boys pull out another game that's two player

You two fall asleep while watching them bicker over which way to go

Megumi pauses the game and the boys just end up scrolling through their phones and talking-

-Until Yuji falls asleep in the beanbag chair

Finally, Megumi can go back to his room...

...Except, you three are so cute

Its kinda like a sleepover

Y'know, he doesn't hate you guys

He's just really bad at emotions

Should he stay

Yuji does have another beanbag he can crash on

...He'll just say he fell asleep going through Twitter or something

Goodnight... Friends

[in-tua-deep]

Prompt idea that I sincerely don't know anywhere else to put out, but what if, one mother of the seven like... delayed giving up the baby idk why, but like, in the end the child goes to the academy, but like... they know the world outside this mansion full of all sorts of abuse and violence, and so is trying to bring good sense and awareness to all of other children somehow, even though like... you don't know very much or correctly the things in general, but is trying anyway because yeah

okay okay i will bite

it's gonna be Five bc u know how I roll by now and you didn't specify a child, so this is a non-twin world uwu

I see some people naming him Fievel so we're gonna have to go with that, nicknamed Five by the other kids who thought it was absolutely hilarious to ask "which one?" whenever Reginald snaps “Five!”

Though officially, of course, Five is number seven.

So Fievel is born in a park to a mother who was never prepared to have achild, but held him in the hospital and looked into the eyes of a man offering her money for her newborn and she says - no. 

Because she’s poor, yes, and she’s working two jobs to make ends meet, and this man might be able to provide for her child but - she doesn’t like the fact that he offered her money. As though he could place a price on a human life.

(His stupid mustache might have played a role as well. Bastard.)

So she keeps little Fievel, and it’s hard. It’s so hard. Babies are expensive, and she was barely making enough as it was, but her best friend works from home and offers to take him sometimes during the day instead of a more expensive daycare. Some of her other friends ask around relatives and friends and hunt through garage sales until she has a passable amount of baby items.

It would be easier if Fievel wasn’t such a precocious child. He’s curious and into everything, a loud baby that demands attention. 

“C’mon Fi,” She begs her three-year-old son from where she’s draped across the sofa. Aren’t kids supposed to sleep a lot? Why did she end up with the one kid in the world who is on the go twenty four seven? “Can we please take a nap?”

“No.” Fievel says with a mulish look in his eyes and he shoves a book towards her face and almost takes her eye out with a corner of it, “Wead to me.”

And she sighs, and she’s so tired, but she hauls herself up and pats the sofa next to her and her little boy beams at her with such - such love that it almost takes her breath away. “Dogger, again? How many times have we read this?”

Fievel kicks at her with his little soft foot, and she catches it in a hand and smiles and she drops the book in her lap to bring her other hard over to dust feather light fingertips against her baby’s sides.

He’s terribly ticklish and giggles even as he shrieks “NO” loud enough that their neighbors will probably complain to her about it again. But in that moment she doesn’t care as she brings her head down to blow raspberries on her son’s stomach and make him laugh.

She loves him so much. 

(But she never has any time. Her friendships are more distant now, because she’s either at work or spending time with her son. She’s always exhausted because she works such long hours and Fievel keeps her awake when she’s a home. She doesn’t blame him, he didn’t ask to be born into the world any more than she asked for him, really. But it’s hard.)

Fievel is a curious child. She takes him to children’s museums and zoos on the discount days and watches him run around with seemingly endless energy. She has to keep a careful eye on him otherwise he will disappear, get distracted and wander off no matter how many times she’s tried to tell him to never do so.

Then he turns four.

Her baby is so smart. And he’s restless. And even though the place she works has a daycare through them, the people there are one incident away from banning Fievel. She thinks that’s dumb, considering they’re the ones that didn’t watch Fievel closely enough and lost him almost four times in recent months. 

So she signs him up for preschool.

She gets him a brand new outfit for the day, fussing over him until he’s all squirmy and pouty and slapping her hands away with all the grump that a four-year-old can muster. 

She sends him off to daycare with ruffled hair and a wide smile and tries not to worry too much.

She’s at work when she gets a call from the school informing her that they’ve lost her son. She hurriedly lets her boss know and sweeps out of work without a backwards glance, showing up at the school just as her phone rings again and a flustered individual informs her that they’ve located him.

“I have no idea how he got out.” The frazzled teacher looks close to tears when she meets with the poor woman, giving Fievel a fierce look that promises that they will be having a talk about this. 

“I din’t do anything.” Fievel pipes up mulishly, “I didn’t go nowhere, the class did.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, and faces the teacher apologetically. After a pointed comment from a friend, she’s been vaguely looking into ADHD since her kid is like this, “I’ll have a talk with him.”

“I’ll - I’ll make sure to keep a better eye on him.” The woman looks floored that she isn’t tearing strips out of the school administration for losing her toddler. Actually when it’s phrased like that she probably should be more pissed off. But she also knows her kid and what a handful her is.

So she takes him home and sits him down.

“This can’t happen again, Fi.” She tells him, and he’s got his little arms crossed and he’s pouting with his entire body. “I mean it. I had to leave work, and you know I have to work.”

“You don’t hafta.” Fievel says harshly, “What about me?”

She sits on the couch next to him, heart heavy, “Baby, you know I have to work so that we can have things and go places.”

Her son scrabbles up on his knees and puts his hand on her arms and gives her big eyes, “I don’t need lotsa toys. An’ we don’t hafta go to the zoo.”

“Oh baby,” She pulls him into her arms and lets him snuggle into her, “I gotta work. And you gotta go to school and be good. Okay? You can’t be leaving the classroom again.”

“I din’t mean to.” Fievel sniffles, and she hugs him just a little tighter as the tears start to flow.

“It’s okay.” She murmurs into his hair, “I got you.”

To his credit, Fievel does his best. He still manages to leave the classroom somehow, seemingly whenever the teacher is looking away. No one seems to know how he does it. Emma who sits next to him exclaims that he just vanished like he went BAM and wasn’t there all of a sudden!

(Oh, the imagination of four-year-olds, the teacher thinks to herself.)

But whenever he does he seems to come back within fifteen to thirty minutes. Sometimes the teacher doesn’t even notice he’s gone before he’s knocking on the (locked) classroom door to be let back in. They don’t call his mother about the incidents anymore and the teachers nickname him Houdini with a sort of despair. 

Fievel is four-and-a-half when he’s taking a walk with his mother down to the park. He’s got his little rainboots on because he always wades into the pond and he likes the slosh of the water on his feet when it goes over the top, and his little duck shirt. He’s making loud quacking noises which don’t actually sound anything like a duck but when he looks at her for approval she nods with a smile.

They’re crossing the road at the crosswalk, holding hands because they always do, when the car comes careening around the corner.

She can’t react in time, eyes widening and she’s hollering and she moves to push her son and she only has eyes for him as she places her body between him and the car and - 

She watches his eyes go wide and afraid and she 

watches

him

disappear

and then the car clips her and she’s sent sprawling and that’s the last thing she remembers.

She wakes up in the hospital hours later with a concussion, a broken arm, several broken ribs, and a lots of scrapes. She’s lucky, they tell her. She demands to know where her son is. 

Hours later, when she’s worked herself up into a right tizzy, her son sprints into the room followed shortly by some very harried looking cops and she has to haul him into the bed so that he doesn’t hurt himself getting up.

“Gentle, gentle.” She warms him, wincing when he bangs a knee into her bad ribs, “I’m a little tender at the moment, baby.”

“You got hurt!” Fievel yells at the tops of his lungs and then immediately bursts into loud and terrified tears. So she ignores her bad ribs and messed up arm and cradles him close to her making shushing noises and stroking his back until he’s cried himself out and drops off right there in the hospital bed.

She gets out of the hospital with a cast and a bill she can’t afford right now and she sits Fievel down on the couch.

She wants to write off the fact that her son literally vanished before her eyes to the concussion. But - she thinks about a locked preschool classroom and a son that has a tendency to vanish when she takes her eyes off of him and -

It makes too much sense.

“Baby.” She asks, “Can you teleport?”

“What’s tell-ee-port?” Fievel asks, scrunching up his nose.

“Do you find yourself in other places without getting up and going to them?”

“Yeah.” Fievel states it so easily, like she’s dumb. “I told you so.”

She pressed her fingers to her face, “Can you do it now?”

Fievel frowns and then scrunches up his face real hard and then -

He’s gone. And then he’s opening his bedroom door and scurrying back out. He runs over and tugs at her pants eagerly, “I did it! Did I do good?”

She crouches down and ruffles his hair even though it kills her ribs, because she can’t pick him up with a broken arm. “Yeah baby,” She praises him, mind moving at an hour a minute, “You did good.”

That night she lays in her bed and watches Fievel’s chest rise and fall as he sleeps. He sprawls out like a starfish but sometimes in the night always buries himself into her side like a tick. She’s put a pillow in between them to try and spare her poor ribs, but she has doubts it will work.

Her son can fucking teleport.

That’s when she cries. Because she loves her son, but he’s a handful. She didn’t even notice. She didn’t notice that he son has a superpower. Doesn’t that make her the worst mother in the world?

Crying is a terrible idea. Her ribs are painful enough that she can’t sleep. She needs to ration her pain medication because they really can’t afford it. 

How is she supposed to handle this? How is she supposed to raise a child that can vanish without a second thought? Her bright beautiful boy who loves feeding the ducks and being pushed on the swings and playing unfathomable games with his friend Emma that she can’t even begin to understand the plot of.

(She’s almost certain one of them is supposed to be a cheetah for some reason? Or a lion? There’s a lot of running involved in the game, and hiding.)

It’s a few months later when her arm is healed and her ribs are better and Fievel is turning five when everything comes crashing down. Because she doesn’t get a call from the school. She gets a call from the police.

Apparently Fievel managed to get out of the school far enough away that he got lost. He admits tearfully to her that he’s been getting further and further away when he ‘jumps’ - and it’s not his fault. He tries not to jump. But it happens whether he wants it to or not and if he keeps getting further and further away then -

She thinks of a car and a road and putting her body between death and her son. And she thinks about the fact that when he jumps, she isn’t there.

Look. She’s not stupid. She always knew that her kid wasn’t exactly a normal child.

(Hello. He’s practically a miracle. She wasn’t exactly a virgin but that doesn’t really matter when she was very suddenly nine months pregnant where she hadn’t been before.)

So she reckons that the powers have something to do with that. And who does she know that definitely has a child who was also one of the miracle babies?

(He’d mentioned he’d already acquired like, what, four kids when he came to see her. As though that was supposed to make her want to give up her kid even more.)

So she requests some vacation days (that she can’t afford) and she pulls Fievel out of preschool for a week (it’s preschool it’s not that important) and they fly over to a city where she can hopefully get some answers.

(Fievel spends the whole flight with his face pressed to the window and his plane toy clutched tightly in one hand and his stuffed dog in the other as he enthusiastically makes whooshing noises.)

And she goes up the the big mansion thing and knocks and goes inside where she smiles at Fievel and tells him to go play with the other children while she talks to Mr. Hargreeves, thank you baby.

As she clenches her hands into fists and listens to Sir Reginald Hargreeves condescend to her about her ability as a mother, Fievel enthusiastically bounces over to the kids his age who stare at him like they’ve never seen anything like him before in their life.

(“I’m Fievel!” He introduces himself loudly, “And this is Doggy! My mama is here to speak to your dad.”

“Uh. I’m Six.” A bewildered little girl says back.

Fievel blinks, “Oh! I just turned five.”

The girl giggles, “No! No I mean my name’s Six. but I’m five-years-old as well.”

“That’s a funny name.” Fievel says.

“Nuh uh.” The girl refutes, “Your name is weird. See, ‘cause we’re all numbers ‘n you’re not.”

And he’s introduced to them all. One is tall and awkward looks. Two hides behind the others a little bit. Three has her hands on her hips and she looks at him, but softens when he tells her that he likes her hair. Four is a skinny wisp of a kid, with big wide eyes and no sense of personal space. Five sticks pretty close to Four. And Six, of course, is the one who talked to him first which obviously means that they’re temporary best friends.

Temporary, because of course Emma is his best friend. ‘Cause she’s in his class and they sit near each other and play together with each other first.)

And his mother comes out to Fievel bossing the others around and them going with it, all with bewildered little expressions on their faces. Fievel is balancing on the back of the sofa next to a little girl who is holding Doggy, possibly in the middle of an evil villain speech? The little girl is solemnly petting Doggy like she’s a Bond villain at the very least.

It makes her smile, just a little bit. 

“Fievel, baby, can you come here for a second?” She asks, and her son beams at him and vanishes from his seat over to by her leg where he pulls on her leg so that she’ll sweep him up into her arms. 

(The children gape at him, all wide eyes and staring between them and their father like they’re shocked. And they probably are. Reginald has informed her that none of them can teleport, but they do have a variety of weird powers between them.)

“You know that you’re getting big.” She says, and she tries not to cry, “And you’re not going to be in preschool soon enough.”

“Yeah!” He enthuses, “Gonna learn real stuff!”

And that’s just like her son. Voraciously hungry for knowledge. 

“Well, this is a school for very special people.” She tells him, and watches his eyes go big and round, “People who... can teleport, for example.”

Fievel considers that. And then twists around to look at the other children, “You can teleport?” He demands loudly, like it’s a betrayal of the highest form that they’ve been friends for an hour and this hasn’t been brought up. And maybe it is. She doesn’t claim to understand the intricacies of children’s hierarchy.

“Uh uh!” A little boy exclaims, frowning. “I can just throw stuff real good.”

“I’m strong.” Another little boy offers. And then proceeds to demonstrate this by picking up half the couch and sending the little girl careening onto the floor with a shout, but she gets up and dusts herself off easily enough.

“Okay.” Fievel says brightly, appeased by this somehow as he twists back to his mother expectantly. 

“Okay.” She says, her mouth dry. “Well. This is a special school for special kids. It’s, uh. It’s a boarding school.”

“What’s that?”

“It means you stay here.” She tells him. “I’ll - I’ll come and see you when I can. And you can call me whenever you want. But you have to stay here.”

“Like a sleepover?” Fievel asks, scrunching his face up in confusion.

“A little bit.” Her smile feels weak and forced and she can’t even see it. “Like a lot of sleepovers all in a row. And when you wake up, you don’t need to go anywhere because you live at the school.”

“Uh uh. I live at home.”

“Baby...” She cards her fingers through his hair. “I know it’s scary. I don’t want you to go either - ”

“Then I don’t gotta.” Fievel says, matter of fact as he starts wiggling to get down. She hefts him up in her arms.

“Baby. Fievel. Listen to me.” She says firmly, “I can’t take care of you well enough.”

He looks at her with betrayed eyes.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t control your powers.” She tells him softly, because she loves him and she doesn’t want to give him up but - “I can’t keep you safe, baby. And the teachers can’t keep you safe. But you’ll be safe here.”

“I don’t want to.” Fievel says, loudly. In the tone which says that a tantrum is approaching.

“You’ll learn how to control your powers!” She says in a forced cheery voice.

“I’m going to school with Emma.” Fievel insists in a slightly louder voice.

“You’re already getting along great with the other kids.” She insists.

“NO.” Fievel says, at maximum volume, and then he’s gone from her arms and she’s stumbling because it’s weird to go from holding something to nothing.

“He’ll show up in a bit.” She assures Sir Hargreeves, beyond tired. He’s been watching the whole interaction and she hopes he hasn’t gotten a negative impression of her son. 

If he’s able to handle six other super powered children then surely he can handle hers. No matter what he asks. No matter how difficult it was to sign over the rights to her child. He promised that she can visit Fievel on weekends whenever she wants, for however long her son wants to do so.

He’s going to keep her child safe. He won’t be running out onto streets. He’ll be able to train his powers, be able to control them, and maybe one day - 

(Maybe one day she’ll get her baby back. Safe and sound in her arms and able to control his powers so she doesn’t have to worry at all.)

So she leaves, and she leaves Fievel alone. And no matter how much he screams and cries and begs, no one lets him go back to his mother. He tries to run off, tries to jump away and follow after her - but a blond woman in pristine skirts comes and retrieves him. 

(He tries to jump away, but she keeps coming and finding him until he’s too tired to protest when she carries him back to his new (prison) school in her arms.)

Reginald tries to lock him in his room. He jumps out. Reginald tries to put him in time out. He jumps out. Reginald says he doesn’t get any dinner. Fievel jumps downstairs and raids the cupboards in the night.

It becomes an intense battle of wills between Sir Reginald Hargreeves and little Fievel.

Locks go on the cabinets, Fievel breaks them off by bashing them with one of the bookends he manages to snag. Reginald refuses to let Fievel play with the others. Fievel runs away again and has to be brought back by the blond lady. 

(“You can call me Grace if you’re so against mom.” she had told him demurely, after he yelled himself hoarse telling her that she’s not his mother that he has a mother and that she’s so much better in every way)

Then Reginald takes Doggy away, and Fievel begrudgingly has to fall in line lest he risk his stuffed companion. One of the only links to his real life he has.

(He doesn’t even get to keep his clothes. He has to wear the stiff awful uniform that the other kids wear. It’s the absolute worst. He looks stupid but no one listens to him.)

When his mother comes to visit, Fievel is sullen and still angry with her for abandoning him. He sulks and doesn’t talk to her a lot.

He grows like this. The Umbrella Academy turns six, and then others receive names after Fievel loudly points out that having numbers for names is weird and that no one should ever trust a man who names his kids numbers it’s lazy and stupid.

So One becomes Luther and Two becomes Diego and Three becomes Allison and Four becomes Klaus and Five becomes Ben and Six becomes Vanya.

And Fievel becomes Five.

They all think it’s really funny, that they all get names instead of numbers and Five gets a number instead of a name.

He’s six and Reginald sits him down and tells him in no uncertain terns that his mother essentially sold him. That Reginald controls him. And if Five isn’t a good boy then... well. Bad boys don’t get to visit their mothers.

(Reginald finds a far more... effective way of controlling Five than a stuffed animal.)

(Good boys also don’t talk to their mothers about their training. They smile and act happy and lie because they want to keep seeing her. They don’t tell her about how scary it is, how they desperately want to come home, how maybe their mother could take all the kids because they don’t even have mothers and it isn’t fair.)

So Five grows bigger, gets new uniform, clashes with Reginald as much as he dares, and settles in to life at the academy. He sprawls across Vanya’s floor and tries to remember all the story books he read with his mother.

(There’s only grown up books in the manor that they’re expected to read. And Five likes them, he loves to learn, but - he misses storytime. He misses the wonderful books about adventure and other worlds. He misses when he felt like he was going to go on an adventure because he had powers and was special!

He doesn’t wish he’s special anymore.)

Vanya asks him once why he hangs out with her, because she’s normal. Because she doesn’t have powers.

And Five looks at her and tells her that that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. He spend years surrounded by people without powers. He tells her about his best friend Emma, who definitely didn’t have powers. 

“I wish I had a best friend.” Vanya tells him, face sad and drawn and Five pulls her into the fiercest hug he can.

“You’re not my best friend,” He tells her, and she looks even sadder until he finishes it up with, “You’re my sister.”

“But you have a mother.” She says, sounding confused.

Five shrugs, “Doesn’t matter. Reginald is legally my dad, and he’s legally your dad, and so we share a dad. That makes us siblings.”

“Is a sibling better than a best friend?” Vanya asks after a long moment of silence.

Five doesn’t think so. He misses Emma. He misses his preschool. He misses his life, the life before the Academy. But Vanya looks so sad and pale that he hugs her again and says “Yeah, of course. We’re family.”

The others tolerate him in varied amounts. Luther thinks he’s dumb because he’s always mean to Reginald. Five thinks Luther is dumb, and he’s definitely right. Allison constantly bugs him for information about what she terms “the outside world” and Five has told her about birthday parties at least a dozen times and she still looks wistful and asks him to tell her about them again.

(They turn eight and Five produces a paper crown for his sister because she looked so wistful when he described Emma’s birthday tiara. Allison wears it until Reginald snaps at her to get rid of it, but Five sees her tuck it in the waistband of her skirt rather than throw it away.)

When Reginald snaps at Diego for his stutter, Five snarls and snaps back, getting between the man and his new brother and yelling because he knows that’s not how you help kids! Yelling doesn’t help! His teacher said so! And his mama!

Diego is never particularly thankful for his interference, but Five doesn’t care. 

Five is nine and he jumps into the mausoleum with Klaus and holds his most fragile brother and snarls, threatens to run away. To take Klaus and just go, that they’d go to Five’s mother and she would take them away from Reginald and this place and - 

Klaus always buries himself into Five’s side with his hands over his ears until the morning when Five either jumps away or glares with furious eyes at Reginald even when he’s punished after.

He’s nine when he gets into a screaming match with Diego who says that Five isn’t one of them that he has his mother and if he had the chance he would abandon them in a heartbeat.

Reginald threatens to cut off his mother’s visits if he finds Five interfering with “Number Four’s training” one more time.

Five looks at Klaus, who is his brother. Who is frail and skinny and pale with dark bags underneath his eyes.

Reginald looks satisfied because Five has always backed down before when his mother is threatened. It’s his ultimate trump card.

Five is so very very tired of his mother being used against him. And he loves Klaus. And these kids, they are his siblings. (He tries not to think about the fact that next year he’ll have officially been here just as long as he was with his mother. He hates it.)

Reginald finds Five in the mausoleum with cobwebs in his hair and his brother against his side and a glare on his face and Reginald forbids his next visit with his mother.

Five keeps jumping into the mausoleum. Klaus looks at him with wonder in his eyes and Five pries up the floorboard that hides Doggy (because even after Reginald found a better way to threaten him, he remembers) and cries himself to sleep. 

“You chose us.” Ben states instead of asks, very quietly, when they’re studying together. 

“My mother can look after herself.” Five says stiffly, not taking his eyes off the page. “Klaus can’t.”

Ben doesn’t say anything more, but Five feels eyes on his back for a good long while after that.

When Five is ten, they debut for the first time. They go to the bank, and stop the robbers.

(“We can’t send Ben in,” Five insists, “They’ll die!”

“They’re robbers.” Luther scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Doesn’t matter. They’re still people.” Five insists. “You definitely aren’t supposed to kill people. It’s a law.”

“Shut up, Five.” Diego says grouchily, “We just need to get this over with.”

“Dad’ll be pissed off if we let any of them escape.” Allison says, and the whole group goes quiet as they consider their father’s disappointed fury.

“I’ll go.” Ben mutters reluctantly, and Five tries to meet his eyes but the other boy slips into the vault before he can. The group stands silently as they listen to the screams and watch the blood splatter.

“This is wrong.” Five whispers.

“This is how it is.” Klaus whispers back, sounding defeated.

They don’t talk about it, after.)

Five smiles for the camera and lets Klaus lean on his shoulder and steals a thing of tissues from a reporter’s purse and uses them to wipe more of the blood from Ben’s face with a tight smile and the world goes on.

(He doesn’t know his mother watched. Doesn’t know the fury she flew into. Her son was supposed to be safe - he was supposed to be at a school. Why the fuck was he stopping a bank robbery like some kind of little child soldier?

She becomes a problem. And Reginald can be awfully practical about problems.)

Five is ten-and-a-half and he hasn’t seen his mother in a year and a half. And he’s tired and he’s rebellious so one day he sneaks out and finds a pay phone and the only reason he remembers his number is because his mother made him memorize it and quizzed him frequently.

(He’d gotten lost so often from wandering away and accidentally jumping. His rules were to approach either women with children or people who worked wherever and ask them to call her.)

Except the call can’t connect. Disconnected number. 

Five frowns, and end up doing some research which involves massive lies to the library, and then he has a picture of a newspaper obituary in his hands and a hole in his heart.

Car accident, the paper says.

Five crumbles it up, and then smoothes it out again because there’s a picture of his mother next to the article and Five doesn’t have any pictures of his mother. So he hides it under the floorboards next to Doggy and cries himself to sleep and then he gets up and does his training and doesn’t talk about it.

He doesn’t tell his siblings. Not even when Luther blows up and calls him a stuck up brat who can go cry to his mommy if he think it’s so bad here. Not even when Klaus jokes about running away with a cracking voice in the mausoleum, not really jokes at all. Not even when Vanya asked him for another of his mother’s stories and he started crying in the middle of them. He’d just told her it had been a hard day of training.

(Vanya never asks him questions if he mentions training. He feels bad about lying to her and using it as an excuse but...)

He waits for Reginald to tell him. He waits, because surely someone would tell him that his mother is dead. He’s her son. 

Reginald never tells him. He tells Five that he’s bad and still hasn’t earned back his visiting privileges. Five hates him so much. So so much. 

Five is twelve-years-old and he is sprawled across Vanya’s bed after a particularly brutal day of training. Reginald has been trying to overtrain Five the day before he puts Klaus in the mausoleum overnight so that Five will be too tired to jump in. It doesn’t work, but it’s an exhausting enough punishment. 

“I wish I didn’t have powers.” He tells Vanya.

“No you don’t.” Vanya says back fiercely, fists clenching in her blankets, “Not having powers sucks.”

Five tilts his head and looks at her, “No.” He says gently, “No one knew I had powers. And I was loved. I was so loved, Vanya.”

“Stop it.” Vanya says, face tight. “If you were so loved, why did she leave you here?”

And Five opens his mouth and nothing comes out, because it hurts. 

“You don’t wish you had powers, Vanya.” Five tells her finally, and there are tears in his eyes but he’s looking at the ceiling not at her so it doesn’t matter. “You wish you had a family. A proper family. Not this - this stupid academy. I hate it. I hate it here.”

“Don’t call it stupid.” Vanya says, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair that you have a family and we just - we just have the academy, okay? So don’t call it stupid.”

“We deserve better. We deserve a childhood.”

“We have a childhood.” Vanya scowls, “Just because it’s not as nice as yours was or whatever - ”

“This is my childhood, Vanya.” Five snarls, propping himself up to face her, “I know you all think I’m so spoiled and - and I’m not one of you or whatever, but I came here when I was five. My memories of before - Vanya they’re fading. I couldn’t pick Emma out of a crowd if I tried. I’ve been here for years longer than I was ever there, and it’s not fair.”

“You still have a mother - ”

“No I don’t.” Five cuts her off, his voice ice. Vanya’s eyes are wide, startled by his tone. “Vanya, look around you. When was the last time I saw my mother?”

Vanya’s lip wobbles as she realized she can’t remember.

“It’s been three years.” Five tells her, eyes hard and cold and angry, “She’s gone. I made a choice, and I chose you. I chose the academy. Because despite everything, I love you guys. You’re my siblings, even if sometimes you don’t act like it.”

“Five - ” Vanya tries.

“No.” Five cuts her off, hopping off the bed and shaking his head, “I’m going to - I’m going to go to my room. You get some more practice in or something. I think Pogo picked out this piece and you know what he’s like.”

He doesn’t let her get a word in before he jumps up to his room.

Five is twelve when he stands in front of Reginald and says “I’m not using my powers anymore.”

“You have an assignment.” Reginald says severely.

“No.” Five refuses politely, and his family watches with wide eyes from the sidelines. The only family he has left. “I’ve got control now. I’ve decided I’m going to be normal now.”

Reginald locks Klaus is the mausoleum early and watches with unimpressed eyes as Five picks the lock and strolls in. 

Reginald handcuffs Five to a rail. Five plucks a paperclip from his sock and picks those as well.

Reginald locks Five in a room from the outside and tells him that he’ll get dinner when he jumps out. 

Five opens the window and shimmies down the drainpipe and has to be picked up at Griddy’s where he’s charmed the owner out of a free doughnut and hot chocolate with a sob story about school bullies to explain his grubby appearance (the shimmy down the drainpipe hadn’t exactly been graceful. or clean.)

He locks Five in the basement in a weird room that’s soundproofed. Five tries to hunger strike but - it’s so quiet. He can hear the sound of his own heartbeat. He can’t stand it. It’s like the room was made specifically to torture him.

(He looks at the little bed in the room. The sheets were dusty. This room has been around for a very long time. He wonders who it’s for, Allison, perhaps? She’s always been fairly obedient, maybe this is the reason why.)

He jumps out on the second day, and doesn’t talk to anybody. Reginald is smug like the cat the got the canary, and Five hates it.

Then Five is messing around, and something slots into place, and he realizes - oh, he might be able to time travel. 

Once he figures it out, he’s desperate. He’ll save his siblings that way. He’ll take the to a time where Reginald can’t get them. They’ll be out of reach.

(maybe - maybe they can travel back in time. maybe he can save his mother -)

Five is thirteen-years-old when he time travels for the first time. When he runs out of the house like he’s done so very many times before, except he’s angry and frustrated and he’d tried to bait Reginald into telling him his mother’s dead again and he hadn’t and - 

Five jumps. It’s snowing. He did it. He jumps again, laughing. He jumps again - 

Ash.

He tries to jump, but his power fizzles out. He calls for his siblings. No one answers. He finds the academy - rubble.

So Five lives in the apocalypse. He tries to go home, he does. He buries his siblings as well as he can. He wanders around gathering food and textbooks. He picks up a mannequin and names it Dolores.

(He searches the rubble of the academy, but he can’t find Doggy or the picture of his mother. Either they were found and removed years ago, or they’re buried beneath too much rubble. Five doesn’t know.)

 He takes Dolores on a road trip. He tells her it’s to see if they can find any people, any survivors.

he arrives in a graveyard and traces his mother’s name with trembling fingers. this is the first time he’s been to visit her grave. this is the first time he’s seen her in four years.

So he survives. He grows up, desperately clinging to life by his fingernails. He does complex calculations, wondering what his mother would think of him now.

He meets the Handler. He becomes an assassin.

(he’s glad his mother is dead, so that she will never see what he has become.)

And then one day, he gets home. He falls into the courtyard, and looks at the faces of his grown up siblings and - 

(he’s so tired of losing people. he’s so tired of being taken away from his family.)

He hops to Griddy’s, he gets into a fight with assassins, he cuts a tracker from his arm, and he goes to Vanya’s apartment.

And he’s Five, but he’s also Fievel. And somewhere inside he’s still that same kid who loved his mother and wanted her to fix thing, who trusted her even though she didn’t have powers. His mother wasn’t ordinary, and he’s never seen Vanya as such.

So he asks her for her help.

(Later, she tells him that they hunted down his mother when they were fifteen, because they’d been absolutely convinced he’d just run away and gone back to herno matter how much Reginald insisted he was dead.

That’s when they found out about her death. Her date of death.

“I’m so sorry, Five.” Vanya says, tears in her eyes as the whole family shuffles and looks away.

And Five puts his hand on Vanya’s. “I knew, Van.”

Her head snaps up. Klaus blurts out a what in the background.

Five shrugs, “I’ve known since we were ten. It’s okay.”)

Five sends Vanya to investigate the eye. 

(He asks Klaus - “Have you - ”

“No.” Klaus says instantly, shaking his head. He knows what Five is asking. 

Five considers that answer, then shrugs. He’s not sure if it would be better or worse for his mother to be one of the ghosts that tormented Klaus. “After I - after, did dad get worse?”

“Yeah.” Klaus says simply, because it’s true.

Five hadn’t been there to jump into the mausoleum and try and shield his brother from invisible enemies. 

“I’m sorry.” Five says quietly.

“Me too.”)

Vanya comes back and the eye hasn’t been made yet. Five swears, loudly and at length.

And maybe in another world Five snaps at Klaus and denies Vanya and goes off on his own and ignores Allison but - 

In this one, Five was the only kid who not only didn’t care that Vanya was ‘ordinary’ but actively challenged her on it. Who told her in no uncertain terms that he was jealous of her. 

(It’s a very different book that comes out.)

In this world, Five shielded Klaus and challenged Reginald. He jumped into the mausoleum and hugged his brother and, most importantly, he chose Klaus over his mother. And Klaus knows that. Klaus has... a lot of loyalty to Five, and even though he’d though for a long time that Five abandoned him... he knows better now and he feels - he feels guilty for doubting his brother. That guilt may or may not manifest in being a bit clingy.

In this world, Allison thought Five was fascinating because he’d been in the real world. He’d been to real school. She remembers him telling her about his mother, about trips to the zoo and the museums and the birthday parties, about sleepovers and playdates and parks.

(She has a daughter, and she takes Claire to the children’s museums and to zoos. She tries her best for her daughter and hears Five’s voice telling stories in her ears. She does her best to be a good mother, she tries so hard.)

It’s a slightly more united family that stands against the apocalypse.

But there’s always something with them, isn’t there?

“Don’t you know?” The Handler says, with her perfect lipstick smile, “I don’t have to win, I just have to take you out of the game. Your weak spot has always been the same, hasn’t it?”

“You don’t have shit.” Five says, unimpressed. “My family is fine.”

“Are you so sure about that, Fievel?”

(Five already chose his siblings over his mother the first time. The choice is... much more difficult the second time.)

[yacoka]

FIFTY FIRST DATES, AND THE FIRST REAL ONE

──⊱ for my one and only, wee to my woo, love of my life — @doughnuts-5ever

pairing — kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre — angst but it ends very fluffily i swear on my doggie socks

beta(s) — @sugasugawarau @taiyaki 

kisses — hello i am,,, not back,, but here's a little thing that i did for my cow and it might as well be a valentine's day fic bc why not xoxo see y'all in a few days (psps sorry to everyone to has messaged me on discord or here or anything, i haven't been on tumblr or discord in a bit i'll be back sOON)

You sat at the dinner table, staring down at the meal laid out before you. It was by far the best thing you had ever tasted, and yet, it was bland. So, so bland and bitter, that you hated it. Nevermind that it was your favorite dish made by your mother the other day, nevermind that you always loved it better as leftovers. It tasted bland and bitter, and you couldn’t help but wish what he was eating tonight was too.

It was pathetically selfish of you - you knew. But how could you not feel that way when the man you loved was out on a date with some stranger he met on the internet? He had left the house in a burgundy button up that looked like it was made for him, paired with black slacks that made him look like it should be illegal for him to be out in the streets without a warning sign.

It was his first attempt at online dating after having miserably failed at picking up girls from school. And now here he was, out with some chick with a name you could barely pronounce, and the stereotypical description of her bubbly personality that loved nature and volunteered at the animal shelter. Oh, and lets not forget, she’s a gemini!

You rolled your eyes, stabbing your fork into the now cold dish. Stupid boy, with his stupid date, with that stupid red shirt, and with his stupid personality.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. That’s what you were for falling in love with a boy who never saw you for more than another pity project, the pathetic little thing that needed friends but never had any guts to make one until he came along.

You picked up the container of food and stalked over to the bin, dropping its contents into it. You weren’t going to eat it anyways, especially not after how you had  massacred it.

After you left the dirty container in the sink, you flopped onto the couch, sighing heavily as you sank into the worn sofa. It smelled like Kuroo’s body soap, though from the amount of time he’s spent lying on this couch, it was to be expected.

You leaned forward, hand outstretched for the remote. Just a little further, a little more-

The door slammed open and you lurched forward, landing on the ground with a thud.

“It was horrible. She came into the restaurant and she looked amazing, but then we started talking and oh god, I don’t think I can be with someone who thinks that only the rich should be allowed to do whatever they want just because they’re rich.”

“Well hello to you too, Kuroo,” you grumbled from your spot on the floor, flipping yourself over to face the ceiling.

He jumped over the sofa arm, landing perfectly on it like he always does.

“I mean, how can I accept that? That’s just morally wrong and if her basic morals are wrong, what about other more important things? I walked out right after that, that doesn’t make me an asshole right?” His head popped out, brown eyes staring down at you. The cologne he wore tonight drifted down, washing over you and clouding your mind with its deliciously warm and thick and-

“I mean I did pay for the meal before I left,” he mutters, dropping his head onto the cushion, voice muffled slightly by it. “So it counters the fact that I left, right?”

The sigh that begs to pull its way out is caught by you, stuffed into the depths of your stomach in exchange for a soft pat on his head and words you know he wants to hear.

“No, you’re not an asshole. Maybe that was an asshole move, but that doesn’t make you one. Besides, her lack of a moral compass cancels out any asshole you might’ve been.” You combed through his hair, drawing it out of the careful style he had forced his bed head into. “This hairstyle though? It makes you look like an extreme asshole.”

Kuroo scoffed indignantly and his head popped back over the edge once more, brown eyes glaring at you. “I worked hard on this!”

“Doesn’t make you look any less of an ass.”

“The date was incredible.” He sighed dreamily, leaning against the counter with his chin in his hand. The temptation to throw your fork at him increased, and it took every sane cell in your body to set it down on the table instead, albeit rougher than you intended.

If Kuroo noticed your intensity, he didn’t mention it, instead continuing on to sigh and gush about the wonderful date he had last night with this amazing woman at this delicious place.

For someone who was incredibly perceptive, he could be incredibly dense as well. You wonder at his obliviousness to your feelings, to the poorly concealed hurt that peeked through in every little move of your body.

All you wanted to do was scream at him, to wake up, open his eyes, and see you.

You, who had been there since the beginning, who had watched him grow from the shy, introverted kid to this cunning, charismatic man who excelled and went beyond what had been expected of him. You, who had seen him at his worst, and still stayed, patching him up and helping him to his feet. You, who knew who he was to the core, every detail, every fact about him.

But it seemed he didn’t know you as well.

“That’s great,” you interrupt him. He glanced at you, surprised by your abruptness. “I gotta go get some work done, I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning.”

“Wait, did I do something wrong?” He called after your retreating back. “Hey, I’m sorry if I pissed you off.”

“No, it’s nothing!” You slammed the door shut, slumping against it. God, you were a fool to have fallen for an idiot. Dashing away the burning tears that slip down your cheeks, you gathered just enough strength to crawl beneath onto your bed and beneath the covers.

The cat plushie he got you a long time ago sits at the bottom of your bed, staring at you. You glared at it, before giving in and grabbing it, tucking it into your chest. Stupid Kuroo with his stupid face and this stupid cat. You hate him so much.

(No, you don’t, you really don’t. And it hurts so much more to know that.)

You’re back here once more, glaring daggers at the clock. The slow ticking of the hands pisses you off, every second gone is a second more Kuroo’s out there, with another girl, on another date. With the number of bad first dates he’s gone one, you’d think he’d give up. But no, this man was persistent, and he wanted to “experience life!”

Well, he was going to experience death soon if he didn’t come back home soon. Your vigil continued, all the way till three am where you gave up and went to bed, your exhaustion outweighing your annoyance and worry. He’s a grown man, there was no need to worry about him.

Honestly, you didn’t know how you got here. To this suffocating silence that rested upon your chest, pinning you down as you listened to the sounds of cars rushing past and the occasional laughter that seeped through the walls. To where you spent your nights alone in your shared apartment, waiting for Kuroo to come home from yet another date. Like some married person waiting on their cheating husband, you smiled bitterly at the ceiling.

Only you weren’t married to him, and you certainly weren't his anything.

If only you were less of a fool, you might’ve moved on long ago. Maybe you might have even found someone who might be just as in love with you as you were with them. You might have already been in a happy relationship, going out on dates, spending your nights with them, being loved. But you were a fool, a fool in love with another fool.

So you continued to lie there, the infinite weight of your one-sided love pressing you into the ground, holding you prisoner to Kuroo Tetsurou.

“Hey, do you wanna go get dinner?” Kuroo called out. “There’s nothing left in the fridge, maybe we could get groceries after.”

You ignored him, focusing on the dimly lit screen of your phone. There hadn't been a proper conversation with him in a while, and you were content to leave it that way if only it meant you didn’t have to hear about his dates with those seemingly perfect women and their seemingly perfect food.

Kuroo called out once more, and you burrowed beneath the blanket, curling up into a ball.

No, you did not want to get dinner with the man you’re so desperately in love with it almost hurts to even breathe in his presence.

The door creaked open, and you could see his shadow stretch out across your bedroom floor, casting its shape upon your walls. It took everything in you to tear your eyes away from it and back onto your phone, though it lingered in your peripheral, taunting you with the way it twisted and leaned closer to you, the scent of his cologne growing stronger by the second, until it almost felt like he wa-

“Why are you ignoring me?” Kuroo whined into your ear as he draped his body over yours, strands of inky hair tickling your cheek.

“Ku-roo-” you gasped out, fighting to twist your body out from under him. “Can’t- bre-breathe.”

He groaned into your ear, dropping even more pressure down. “Don’t care, you ignored me.” He sulked as he burrowed his head into the crook of your neck.

A blind kick to his legs has him flopping off you, spread eagle on your too tiny bed.

“You’re too heavy to be pulling this crap,” you snapped at him.

“And you’re too old to be ignoring me when something’s wrong,” he shot back just as fast, and you were left stunned. To be fair, you should have expected it, Kuroo being one of the most perceptive people you’ve ever met.

(Not perceptive enough to see the deep feelings you harbored for him though.)

“So what’s wrong?”

‘Everything,’ you wanted to scream. ‘You, those stupid dates, my feelings, every god damned thing on earth.’

Instead, what came out was: “I’m just stressed. Work, you know?” You shot him an unconvincing smile.

Kuroo frowned, his lips pinching as he stared at you. He knew better than to push you though, and settled with a curt nod, a forced smile slipping onto his face. “So…. dinner?”

You sighed in exasperation, and let him yank you up and out of bed. The way his stiff smile melted into an easy, fond one was enough to wash away your hesitance, and temporarily dam up the river of doubts that threatened to drown you.

Just for tonight, you’ll enjoy his presence, before he gets caught up in another’s embrace.

(You let yourself get swept up in him again, chasing after the ebb of his warmth when his encompassing presence surges away from you. But you find that you don’t really mind drowning in him, not when the peak of the surf reveals such beautiful sights in the form of lazy smirks and sly hazel eyes.)

It’s another failed date that sends him home in a fitted suit, one that you had turned your nose up at. Kuroo doesn’t understand what’s going wrong, why he never felt like the date was right. The people he had gone on dates with were nothing short of amazing, with the exception of a few. But they just lacked… something. And so he always leaves them with a grateful goodbye and an apologetic smile, returning home to the apartment he shared with you alone.

He’s spent nights and days trying to convince himself that they were an ideal candidate to date, listing out their positive notes to you, and somehow he can’t seem to find the thing that made him just click with them. It’s bordering on frustrating, really, and Kuroo is more than ready to relieve some of the building tension in his body by hanging out with you.

His entrance home is muffled by the sounds of music blasting through the apartment, and it’s a wonder the neighbours haven’t complained yet. He’s about to call out for you as he drops keys on the coffee table, one hand loosening his tie when he catches sight of you dancing in the kitchen.

And everything clicks in place.

It’s a stunning clarity that leaves him reeling, and he wonders how he could have missed it in the first place. It’s a simple truth: Kuroo Tetsurou was completely, utterly, irrevocably in love with you. And it only took him fifty bad first dates to realize that the only person he wanted to go on a date with was you.

Objectively speaking, you look like a complete mess, but to him, the sight of you twirling around in sock clad feet in an oversized shirt with a lame chemistry joke printed across it was infinitely better than any of the people he had gone on dates with. You’re absolutely perfect to him, yelling out lyrics to a song that’s blasting at full volume from the living room.

There isn’t a moment’s hesitation as he surges forward, a force tugging him to you. And like just like two opposing magnets, you spin around just in time for him to collide into you, his head hazy as his mouth crashes down upon yours.

You taste of leftover pizza and something sweet, and he thinks it might be the best damn thing he’s ever tasted. The shocked gasp that escapes you is swallowed by Kuroo as he deepens the kiss, arms winding around you to pull you impossibly closer. And he isn’t sure why he’s so surprised when you reciprocate the kiss, melting into him as your hands grip the lapels of his blazer.

It feels like an eternity spent wrapped around each other, the beat of the music matching the rhythm of your hearts, and the warmth of each other.

Kuroo pulls away first, only because rationality comes sinking back into his muddled brain, and there’s a brief moment of panic when he stares down at your flushed face, lips swollen from his sudden attack. But the absolute relief and love in your eyes has him calming down, and the soft peck you deliver next settles those doubts.

“It’s been you all this while,” his voice cracks, and he winces. “You’re my best friend, and I’m in love with you.”

The smile that breaks out across your face is everything he’s been looking for, and he feels like a fool for being so blind. You’re everything he’s wanted, and everything he’s needed.

“I’m in love with you.” He repeats louder, an incredulous laugh bubbling out of him. “I’m in love with you!”

“I’m in love with you too!” You yell back, and in his excitement, he can’t help but twirl you around, and you burst into giggles. There isn’t a better sound in the world than this, he thinks.

“Be mine.” He catches you by the shoulders, face alight with adoration.

“I’ve been yours for a long time now.” Your answer fills him with a rush of delight and guilt, and he’s ready to spill apologies and promises to make it up to you when you yank on his tie hard, pulling him into another kiss. Every unspoken word, every drop of emotion that has ever begged to be exchanged between you two is said with a simple kiss.

Kuroo thanks the heavens for you, for blessing his life with someone who is more than he deserves. The weight of you in his arms is a comforting pressure, and there he has his last first date, at the beginning of a new chapter in the story of him and you, eating leftovers and dancing to songs of your childhood.

He’s in love with you, and you are with him too.

[kozumeko]

being aoba johsai’s manager

now these mfs already don’t know how to act

neither do you <3

tf you thought this was? y’all are all stupid and iwaizumi can’t STAND IT.

he was so hurt bc he adocated extra hard for a manager so he wouldn’t have to do damage control for oikawa the team all by himself

only for you to come thru and also be the problem </3

not a DAY goes by that you and oikawa aren’t bullying the shit outta each other

“who tf asked you to be here? because i assure you that the only fuckers that want you around are mattsun and makki” — oikawa

“oh no, because i thought a bitch built like a door said sumn to me” — you

don’t get it twisted though, the minute someone says something foul abt you? oikawa’s on some black air force type shit <3

the mf that says some shit about oikawa ain’t gon be able to say shit else if you hear abt it <3

but speaking of you, mattsun, and makki

can y’all say team rocket?

because y’all are iconic

one time y’all showed up to practice high and coach hasn’t let you live it down since

this guy starts giving you this long ass, d.a.r.e. type lecture abt how drugs are bad, they’ll ruin your life, yadda yadda

did he forget y’all were still zooted??

y’all went home that night and did it again LMAO

at practice, you fuck around w the boys so much

kunimi calls you comedic relief <3

but kindaichi once asked you to fill his water bottle and you went on this rant abt how no one helps you out, how you gotta do everything by yourself, yada yada

yelling like someone’s mama and for what 🧍🏾‍♂️

but you’re jus playing and the third years know that so they’re ignoring you

but bro you got the whole team jus abt ready to shit themselves

you finish your little rant like “just kidding 😛✌🏾” but these mfs ain’t having

kindaichi abt to tear up, talkin abt sum “i’m sorry (y/n), i swear we’ll be better”

🥺🥺🥺🥺

oikawa, mattsun, and makki wanna laugh so bad

but you feel TERRIBLE 🥺 you wasn’t tryna scare em that bad 🥺

so you spend the next few practices showing them in love, hyping them up and praising them whenever they do good, the whole nine

but overall?

you love those mfs with your whole heart. you dote over them so much, even kyotani’s feral ass.

they don’t say it often, but the boys love you too. they don’t know what they’d do without you most times.

those are your boys!!! and you’re their favorite, bestest manager <3

[moldy-mold]

Hello! It’s already May... Life updates - a roller coaster of emotions

A tempestuous, tearful April... Aghh the struggle has not eased up a bit. Living is just too expensive to be shouldered by part-time wages, meager freelance, and fickle confidence. My parents are disappointed - I’ve always tried to dodge the questions about my uncertain future. After all, I don’t have any answers.

What nearly broke my spirit was the humiliating scolding I received on my birthday. “You’re almost 30. Stop playing around at the cafe, don’t you know your bank account is nearly empty? How will you pay for this? If you can’t afford car insurance then just bike to work!” I didn’t even have time to think about how inconsiderate that was. In a daze, I hung up and went to my second part-time job that day.

Well, Dad, those are the questions I asked myself every single day. All I can do is keep trying even if you don’t believe in me. Because, despite everything, I still believe in myself.

Nothing good will come out of asking these punishing questions. I don’t know if things will get better or worse. Just gotta do what I can to get by as a small creature existing in this universe.

I learned to stop blaming myself for not being successful. Given the circumstances, I think the odds are stacked pretty high against most of us right now.

“Banish the nonsense. Some questions will ruin you if you are denied the answer long enough.” - Annihilation

--

I’ve begun my investment journey! After studying how it all works I have come to understand the value of investing. It was one of my resolutions for this year and I’m glad I’ve achieved it.

My brother, a crypto enthusiast, knows my monetary plight and has been helping me out in the weirdest ways.

6 am text: “Hey Sis, you got $1000? Put it into Dogecoin... like NOW.”

I don’t like doing these kinds of high-risk-high-reward investments but what the heck, I was desperate. I applied for an account that can trade crypto.

In the end my account got rejected (there was no explanation) and I gave up. Because of course that would happen lol.

--

“Hey, do you have time to talk about the future?” “UM... are we breaking up???” “LOL don’t say it like that!”

My roommate / best friend decided she wanted to move to her own place and find her own way in life. Of course, my fragile heart, still tender from the previous month’s beating, took it very personally. I was reassured it wasn’t my fault - there are plenty of other valid reasons why.

We’ve been sharing an apartment for 6 years now, and although I knew it would happen someday, it was quite shocking to hear it being said to me in reality. At first, I laughed it off because I’ve been dreaming about moving out of the country anyway and it all works out. I’m an introverted, neat-freak, homebody! It’s perfect! But after a very pensive shower, I realized that I’m actually terrified to be without any companionship. Either way, I have to put my feelings aside because I don’t wanna hold her back from her dreams. I may have trouble accepting it now but hopefully I can genuinely be happy for her in time.

--

The Plant Life Please welcome Rokurou, the newest addition to my jungle.

It’s been a few weeks and he totally ate bugs already lol. Nice! I was thinking the smaller traps wouldn’t catch anything, but it turns out they’ve been doing the most work. The larger traps can’t catch ants or tiny gnats. They just crawl out after the trap snaps shut.

This venus fly trap is rather picky about what water he gets so I’ve been out there collecting rainwater in buckets JUST for him! Kind of a pain, but I will do whatever it takes to keep him alive.

It was a very tiny dream of mine to collect and care for carnivorous plants. If the shop had more varieties, I would probably buy them all.

--

I thought I was gonna die... Hostess for a day. One day while working at the cafe, this old Chinese man came in asking how much I made here. Then he told me if I work as a hostess/front desk person at his restaurant (which was next to the cafe, by the way), he will pay me more than the cafe. He slipped me $5 to go see him after my shift at 9pm. It was soooooo sketch. But I went anyway to at least hear him out after telling my roommate and my parents where I was going. You know... in case I die.

Luckily I didn’t die. It was a normal Chinese restaurant. I met the staff and they were all super cool and the mysterious old man goes by Mr. Lin.

Mr. Lin was very chill about it. He said I can have a trial run after my bakery shift on Saturday. If I don’t like it, I can just tell him no and he will pay me for my time.

I knew it was a bad idea to take another shift after a long shift at the cafe but I did it anyway. It was BUSY. Too busy for anyone to teach me how to be a hostess so I literally just had to guess what I’m supposed to be doing. It was kinda obvious though, showing people to their tables. I picked them at random bc I didn’t know if there was a method to seating people or not.

There are three different menus: Chinese, Korean and English and they’re ALL different. Depending on the nationality of who walks in, I have to decide for myself which menu to hand out. Uhhhhh despite being Asian myself, I cannot tell the difference between Korean and Chinese people lmao so I have to keep awkwardly asking people which menu they want. *screams*

The manager, Vincent, is so OP though. He knows exactly which menu to get every time. I was like HOW DO YOU KNOW?? He only responded with “working in the business for 24 years.”

Anyway, it was a long and confusing night of people thinking I am a waitress and me not knowing where the spoons are. But I don’t think this job is for me, even if it pays a lot.

There sure is plenty of demand for part-time food service workers and zero demand for full-time graphic designers... sigh. My journey doing random jobs in 2021 continues.

--

My brother graduated pharmacy school last week. In our culture, the older sibling’s shoulders is where all the expectations should rest. Maybe in another AU I would feel small and inferior to my younger and more successful sibling. But I don’t feel anything like that. In fact, if he can take care of my parents while I’m trying to figure out my own life, then I’m just more grateful to him. Maybe my parents don’t expect anything of me anymore, which is okay. Either way, my brother and I have each other’s backs.

--

Berseria I went into it with ZERO expectations because of its infamous predecessor, but I have come out pleasantly surprised. I liked it more than I thought. I’m at the end but I’m not done with the story yet.

I remember expressing my utter confusion about Zesty and everyone was like “play Berseria, it will answer a majority of your questions.” And boy, it did and I’m so glad. I loved all the throwbacks and references and lore that had to do with the previous game. Like, they really had something interesting going on here but it never quite came to fruition last time.

Is it just me, or did it take a very long time to understand all the battle mechanics? Like... I didn’t get the hang of the game until we got to Meirchio. Now I am quite good at playing Rokurou, my main. And it feels way more fun. I usually like mage characters in the old tales games but tbh I wasn’t really into it this time.

After we finish Bersy, we will be moving on to Xillia 2, our final Tales game! Gaius, I’m coming for you.

--

Xenoblade At the same time, I am also finishing up Xenoblade after spending nearly a year on it. I have weeks where I’m just grinding the side quests to unlock the skill trees. When I’m down, traveling and exploring in this game puts my worries to rest. Really though, the maps are so beautiful... And the music! T_T

This is one of the few games where I like every character pretty much equally, though Dundun and Riki win by just a little bit.

--

That’s it for now. Thanks for being here!

[kittylaboo]

HC: Peter Parker didn’t know he was Bi until Harley Keener

So this took a turn I wasn’t expecting, also it’s a lot longer than I was expecting I’m sorry also Idk how to do the cut thing so my bad  

 TW: Mentions of Rape

Okay so Peter Parker is *Straight*

He likes girls, really likes girls

He literally went on a date with Liz (it may have ended with her moving away bc he put her dad in jail but that’s besides the point)

And he may have had a brief crush on MJ 

So Peter Parker is *Straight*

Boys are gross, and trust Peter he knows

He doesn’t ever want to think of men in a sexual matter

He 10/10 supports anyone who comes out to him 

But anytime he thinks about how boys could possibly be into him, his brain immediately goes to Skip Wescott 

And how Peter was 9 when it started and that he never wants to be in a position like that again

It was horrible and scary, and Peter Parker likes women and only women, and he will never be anyone’s Skip. And he will never put himself in a position where there can be another Skip.

So Peter Parker thinks men suck. 

(Obviously beside Ned and Mr Stark, they’re cool, but Peter has known Ned forever and Mr Stark is literally a super hero, and Peter only became such a huge fan of Iron Man and Tony Stark because of what happened)

His therapist tells him it was his way of coping with what happened 

Then one day Happy picks Peter up at school on an non-lab day because Mr. Stark has someone that he wants Peter to meet

Peter really hopes its the Black Widow (because they’re both spider themed heroes !! how cool !!!)

Peter meets Mr Stark and this mystery person in the living room

Mr Stark introduces Peter Parker to Harley Keener

Harley Keener looks hot good, hes tall and wears a leather jacket and cowboy boots with skinny jeans. He looks so out of place, but he doesn’t look bothered by it either

Peters heart skips a beat, but Peter chalks it up to be anxiety 

“Hey there Peter, I’m Harley”

Oh my god he has an accent, an actual southern accent

And doesn’t that just make Peters heart race 

“Tony here tells me you’re a real Einstein” He laughed

Harley laughed. Peter is not laughing

Peter hears his blood rushing, and feels himself go cold. His spidey-sense is just going off

Peter looks to Mr Stark whose smile falters at the look of pure-fear on Peters face

Mr Stark doesn’t know. Peter never told him. Any files about what happened never include Peters name, or any family members name, so Mr Stark wouldn’t have stumbled on it, unless he went into Peter’s Therapists notes, which he hasn’t because he may be nosy but he isn’t invasive 

Peter knows what this is, he knows he’s going into a panic attack. He was triggered and he needs to get out. Out out out before anything can happen

“So-sorry, I’ve gotta, I gotta go, something came up wi-with May. It was um, it was nice meeting you Harley.”

Peter left, and made it back home, though he doesn’t remember how he made it from Manhattan to Queens and into his apartment.

He’s home and it’s not the safest place, can’t go into his bedroom but it’s better than there

Tony beat him to the apartment (without Harley), already sitting with May when Peter walks in

May is quick to give Peter his favourite over-sized sweater (it makes him feel safe) sitting him down in the living room, putting a knit blanket over him, and giving a bottle of water. 

“Pete, you okay kid?” Mr Stark asks 

And Peter is fine, he always has been, so he nods 

“Do you want to talk about why you were triggered into a panic attack” His voice is soft as he speaks to Peter, like Peter would break

May sits next to Peter, pulling him into her 

“Adrian Toomes was not the first person Spider-Man sent to jail” Peter started the story like this because it was easier to tell it, his therapist may not be happy with it but she’ll be happy he’s making progress by telling some

“Spider-Man was 11 when he sent his first person to jail. It was a year long trial, one kid versus one 18 year old. He used to call Spider-Man, Einstein”

Peter seemed to be done with his explanation after this, deeming it enough information for Tony to understand what happened

It wasn’t 

But May sending a text that said “Search Skip Wescott” gave Tony the opportunity to find out what happened later 

(Tony is really pissed when he reads what happens, and makes sure Skip get transferred to worst prison and that he can never leave)

“Okay, Pete, I’ll talk to Harley about not calling you that. But Harley will be going to the same school as you, okay? That’s why I wanted you two to meet.”

After that first night Peter goes back to being his usual chipper self

And Harley starts at Midtown 

Peter was just rounding the corner outside of the school to see Harley getting dropped off by Happy

After a moment of hesitation Peter went up to Harley and offered to help him on his first day (because Peter will not let his overwhelming fear take over and he will be friendly for the sake of Mr Stark and that is all)

Despite Peter’s uneasiness and distrust Peter and Harley get on like a house on fire

Peter started to feel really close to Harley, and Harley would often throw his arm around Peter’s shoulder and call him things like sugar, or sweet thing or darling

And Peter liked that a lot, except he didn’t because it was weird (but he really did)

And Peter would always go tomato red whenever Harley was around

Even Ned and MJ recognized the crush Peter had on Harley and vice versa

“Dude when are you going to make a move on him?”

“What the fuck, Ned? I’m straight, Harley and I are friends”

“Peter are you being serious right now? You both obviously have a crush on each other. Harley knows you like him too.”

“The fuck MJ, I expected you to be more understanding about this. We are friends. Maybe I come off as gay to you because I choose to respect people and am not the exact definition of a ‘toxic male,’ but I don’t fucking like you guy assuming that I like men. Men ain’t shit and I’m not going to find myself in another situation like I used too. I like women”

“What’s your issue Peter? You homophobic now? Didn’t peg you as that.”

“Fuck MJ, this isn’t your business. I’m an ally, people love who they love, but I don’t like men, and you need to stop pushing that on me. I have my reasons, you have yours.”

“Peter, the way you’re going off on MJ isn’t really helping your point much-”

“Would the two of you just shut up about this. I don’t like other guys. Women are it for me. I will not be stuck under another man. Fuck, I’m straight and you need to stop pushing the idea that I’m into Harley just because you want me to live out your little fantasies of what my life should be like.”

Peter didn’t talk to them the rest of the day. Not because he was angry but because he was embarrassed that he said too much 

At the tower Peter and Harley were cuddled together sitting next to each other watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and talking

Peter really loved Harley’s Blue eyes

And his accent

And his face

And Harley in general

But totally only in a friends way

They’re bros

“I want to try something real quick, you can tell me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am” 

And then Harley kisses Peter

Harley Kisses him

And Peter freaks out

Without even thinking about it, Peter pushes Harley off of him and bolts, leaving the tower without his phone, shoes or bag, Peter just leaves

Once Peter gets outside he throws up, before his anxiety takes over again and he just runs and runs and runs

Harley is left now sitting on the ground, tears in his eyes, confused and hurt about what just happened

Tony makes it to Harley in record time thanks to Friday, and without a question Harley explains what happened

“I thought he liked me too, Tony, I really did. I don’t know how I messed up this bad.”

“I’m sorry Harls, Peter has been hurt a lot and I just don’t think he was ready yet emotionally for a relationship.”

Tony knows that Peter has probably just been triggered. He’s only heard Peter talk about girls romantically, never boys, but he was sure that Peter and Harley were going to be together at some point

Once Harley finally calms down enough and goes to his room Tony calls May

“May, is Peter with you, he left all his stuff here.”

“No, I thought he was staying with you tonight. what happened?”

“Harley kissed Pete, and he freaked out and ran out without any of his stuff, I was hoping he was with you. His phone is here too.”

“I think I know where he is, College Point Park. Ben and I used to take him there after any court date.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“What about Harley?”

“He’s already asleep, I’ll meet you there.”

Tony and May get there in record time, finding Peter sitting on the rocks facing the East River.

“Peter?” May called out.

Peter turned around, his face clearly red, tears streaming down his face.

“I don’t understand” Peter finally said as May and Tony got close enough

“What don’t you understand?” Tony asked

“Harley kissed me. He kissed me. I expected to hate it. But I didn’t. I liked it when he kissed me. I should hate it though. He’s a boy. I shouldn’t have liked it.”

“Peter it’s okay if you liked Harley Kissing you, and it’s okay if you like him romantically too” May tried to comfort

“But it’s not May, because if I like Harley, and I like him kissing me then that means that I liked it when Skip kissed me. And I didn’t like anything he did to me.”

“Peter, I like when Pepper and I kiss, but that doesn’t mean that if May were to kiss me that I’d like it. Same thing goes for you kiddo.”

“I like girls though. I can’t like Harley.”

“You can like both boys and girls. You could be Bisexual or maybe not. No matter what it’s okay.” May said again.

“I need time. I can’t- I need Dr Rosenburg and I need to not be Spider-Man and I need to not see Harley or Ned or MJ. I need time.”

“Okay baby, you can have as much time as you need.” 

Peter ends up taking a week off of school, with daily appointments with his therapist. He went completely ghost mode. Wasn’t active as Spider-Man, wasn’t active on social media. Didn’t read or respond to anyone’s messages. Only talking to May or Tony and only if they were at the apartment.

After his week off, Peter finally reappeared at school, still having not responded to anyone’s messages, preferring to just deal with things in person.

“Peter oh my god you’re alive we all thought you died.” Ned shouted from down the hall going to greet his friend, MJ and Harley in tow.

“I’m fine guys, I just had some stuff from the past come back up that needed to be dealt with before I did anything that would hurt other people.”

“What are you talking about Parker, you wouldn’t hurt a fly let alone anyone else.” MJ said confused

“I’ll tell you when I’m ready too but I’m not there yet. My therapist thinks I made good progress this week though.”

“Your therapist?” Ned asked.

“Uh yeah, sorry. MJ, Ned, I really messed up with how I treated you guys the other day, regarding my sexuality, turns out I may of been wrong and you guys were right, I just repressed any of those emotions due to trauma. So, I’m sorry you didn’t deserve that.”

Ned and MJ obviously forgive Peter bc duh they’re friends

“I would like to talk to Harley privately though, so you guys wouldn’t mind?”

So Peter pulls Harley to the side finally getting the chance to talk to him, and wanted to say his words before he lost his nerves.

“Peter I’m sorry-”

“I liked when you kissed me. That’s why I freaked out. I didn’t think it was possible for me to like that, or men. I’m sorry for pushing you away. I wasn’t prepared and my brain automatically went to a dark place. I like you Harley Keener, but I have problems and I want you to be aware of that before we do anything.”

“Okay.”

“If we are going to try this I need you to be aware of my limits. I have a lot of them apparently, and I’m not sure if more will come up or not, but my therapist said that I should talk to you about this stuff before we do anything. If you still like me, that is.”

“Peter Parker you are too precious, of course I still like you, I don’t plan on not liking you for a while yet.”

And then Peter smiles and he feels relieved, because getting to this point took a lot of work and now he’s here and he likes a boy who likes him back who won’t hurt him