#of light and livi

[m00nb04rd5]

Chaos 0 (Sonic The Hedgehog)

[moonyicons]

olivia rodrigo layouts !!

pls rb & like if you use <3

[blackbloodedisabel]

been thinking. if they were going to have andrea return with her g1 complexion they might as well have brought back livi too

[ffixiv-livmorgan]

even the aetherytes look different here.. .

[causalitylinked]

“Maybe this to-do list will fix me.” / dyn for ryuto!

        text post starters iv. » still accepting!

    "...Or perhaps what you need instead is to take a break," Ryuto bluntly cuts in before casting a judgmental glance at the to-do list Dyn'lo ended up jotting down. "Surely, you don't intend on spending the whole rest of your day, doing menial chores?" came his deadpan query. Honestly, the servants might be overjoyed at having an extra helping hand, but considering Dyn'lo already did more than enough around the mansion, Ryuto couldn't help scrutinizing him a bit. Why, at this rate, he might even end up falling asleep, washing the windows.

    "If you are in need of something better to do, then come play shogi with me," he then states. Naturally, Ryuto words it less like a request and more like a demand... making it rather apparent he didn't quite approve of Dyn'lo's 'to-do' list.

@strywoven

[exqorcism]

A LITTLE BIT DANGEROUS,

:¨ ·.· ¨: stepbro!nicholas chavez x bratty!stepsister!reader 𝜗𝜚 `· . 𐙚 warnings. stepcest. public sex. oral (f!receiving). fingering. nasty dirty talk ː for livie &&& tasha ♡

your step-brother, nicholas, had a weird addiction to your pussy. maybe it was the way you tasted, maybe it was your intoxicating smell; or maybe it was the sweet, little noises — so much different from your usual demanding and sugar-coated voice — that had him on his knees every time you spread your legs for him. one look, it was all it took; the soft flutter of your lashes, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, twirling a piece of hair around your finger — and he already knew what you wanted.

the worst thing? he wanted it just as much.

that's how you found yourself here — legs spread in the air in a pretty v shape, with nicholas' veiny arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you from falling onto the floor from your spot on the kitchen counter. with the party going on outside, the house was fully empty, except for the two of you, lingering in the kitchen for long; not long enough for your family to get suspicious and come look for you, though.

it was a beautiful and peaceful evening in california; the sun was just hiding behind the horizon, coating the skies in pretty pink and orange hue. your uncle's loud voice echoed through the garden, along with mixed voices and laughter from both yours and nicholas' families. or, should you say just — your family?

your little black dress rested on your upper thighs, swirling in the light wind as you moved around the garden to greet the guests. nicholas stood there, chatting with some friend of his you didn't have an opportunity to meet yet, looking as handsome as ever in his tank top and beige pants — something so basic, yet so good on him. nicholas' tan skin seemed to glow in the setting sun, the veins on his arms more prominent than ever as he flexed his muscles, stretching his arms over his head.

you found yourself twirling a piece of your perfectly curled hair around your finger, leaning on your elbows so that he could get a sneak of your boobs if he looked long enough; your fingers ghosting over the rim of your glass as you stared at your step-brother absently. his dark eyes met yours every now and then, sending you a clear message — right there and then, he wanted this; no, he needed this. needed you. the consequences be damned.

"shit, nick— someone could walk in—", you stutter, pushing his face closer towards your pussy absentmindedly, and you hear him chuckle against your mound at your weak protest. the vibration sends a spark of electricity down your spine, and you can't control the moan that slips past your lips as nicholas' mouth closes around your clit. his nails dig into your thighs almost painfully, but you're too high up to care — all you can think about is him, right there, right now, kneeling in front of you and devouring you as if it was the last thing he'd ever do.

"for someone who talks so much, you're ridiculously quiet now", nicholas teases between licks, manoeuvring between short, precise flicks of his tongue and long swipes that have you clutching on the counter until your knuckles turn white. as much as you hate him for his cockiness and carelessness, you can't bring yourself to care, not now. with his tongue circling around your clenching hole, dipping in just barely to feel you clench around the muscle, and your legs beginning to shake where he holds them open, the bitchy reply dies in your throat.

"what is it, lil' sis? does your big brother's tongue feel good on your little pussy? she just needs to be taken care of, yeah? you poor little thing," nicholas coos softly, his voice sickly sweet, dripping with a fake sincere that has you gripping the counter tighter.

"such a shame you're such a dirty, pathetic whore."

tears spring to your eyes at the pure obscenity of his words, and you shake your head, teeth sinking in your bottom lip as you throw your head back. as much as nicholas' remarks annoy you, you can't deny they also make the coil in your stomach tighten, ready to burst just as he chuckles into you, clearly amused by your fucked-out state. you can't help the shameless moan that slips past your dry throat as you fight to free your legs from the painful grip he has on you.

"ni— nickkk," you beg quietly, hoping he'd catch the hint just as your mother's voice echoes through the garden, getting dangerously close to the balcony door. you straighten your posture, both hands in nicholas' hair now to get him to stop, hoping he'd listen, just like you know he can.

but your step-brother seems to know exactly what you need, even if you don't say it directly. he redoubles his effort, sucking your clit into his mouth while groaning into you, fingers digging into your sensitive skin. his dark eyes glimmer with satisfaction and something darker, something that has your toes curling and back arching. you're moaning into the summer air, rocking your hips back and forth against nicholas' face as his tongue swirls around your nub.

"such a naughty, dirty slut, aren't you, sis?," nicholas teases, smacking his lips together when he pulls away for a breath, licking away the string of saliva that connects him to the heaven that is your sloppy pussy — his own step-sister's pussy, the very one he craves for every night, he realises. with the thought blooming in his head, and a newfound determination, he lets go of your thigh and gets up from where he's kneeling on the floor, standing between your legs as two of his fingers slip into your hole. you slap your hand over your mouth when he curls them inside you, immediately beginning to fuck into you with a force that has you dangerously close to the edge.

"oh shit— nick, fuck— oh, i'm gonna come," you cry out, pulling nicholas' neck to lick at his jaw and mouth, tasting yourself on his face as he groans into the air, his thumb finding your clit as he rubs it gently — a sharp contrast to the toughness of his fingers working inside you. you're not allowed to cum, you know, he has to give you a verbal permission, and you're a well-trained little sister for your older brother. so you hold it in, pulling nicholas down for a sloppy kiss, your moans swallowed by his sinful lips on yours as he kissed you with just as much vigour, pushing your hips down with his free hand when you started to wiggle against his body.

"you wanna cum, sissy?," nicholas teases lowly, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth lewdly, his fingers curling upward until you feel like crying from the overwhelming pleasure. you nod the best you can, nails scratching on the back of his neck until you're sure you'll leave marks there. good.

"you know what good girls say when they want to cum, baby. don't you? c'mon, sweetness," he urges, and you feel his smell invade your senses, his voice and the sound of your squelching wetness filling the small, orange-hued space. "you wanna make your big brother proud, yeah?"

nicholas' hand finds your jaw, making you pout your lips as you look up at him through your lashes, swallowing your pride the moment you meet his demanding gaze.

"fuck, yes— wanna be your good girl, shittt! please, nick", you cry out. as you feel the wetness cling to your inner thighs your cheeks grow hot, tears springing in the corners of your eyes as he smiles cruelly, kissing your pouting mouth wetly.

"hmm, not quite good enough, sissy," he teases again, smirking to himself when he feels you tighten around his fingers. he rubs your clit furiously, his whole body pressing against yours to ensure you don't fall onto the wooden floor. "say it."

you hiccup, trying to push him away and pull him closer at the same time, your nails digging into his bicep. the feeling of his muscles clenching under your touch is your unraveling as you fall forward, but nicholas' hand wraps around your throat firmly to make sure you keep your watery eyes on him.

"please, big brother, wanna cum f'you," you whine pathetically, choking on your breath when nicholas' thumb presses on your pulse point, his eyes dark as he studies your angelic expression.

"that's my girl, fuck," he growls lowly, speeding up his ministrations on your pussy as the wet, squelching sounds fill the thick air, making the tips of your ears turn red with humiliation. you hate it how easily he takes control over you, hate it when he makes the tables turn and leaves you trembling under his intense eyes. you let out a strangled moan, feeling your hole flutter as your tight canal swallows nicholas' fingers again, again and again—

"cum for me, sis. let me see you come f'me, yeah, give me allll you got," he coos, letting go of your neck to give your covered breast a firm squeeze, and it's all it takes. your cries and nicholas' groan echo through the kitchen as you come on his fingers, hard. you soak nicholas' hand as some transparent liquid squirts out of your clenching hole, dripping down his arm and onto the wooden floor.

he works you through the waves of your orgasm, mumbling incoherent words into the air — but they aren't meant for you to hear. your eyes are heavy when nicholas lifts his hand to tap his soaked fingers against your bottom lip, his gaze softer now, affection mixed with a hint of authority.

"suck yourself off my fingers, baby. if you do good, maybe, maybe i'll fuck your pretty little throat later, yeah?".

❦ 𝐇𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 © series masterlist. (to be updated) inbox for stepbro!nicholas — open. feedback is always deeply appreciated ! check my masterlist for all of my work. ⭒ ⭒ ⭒

tags (taglist here). @iamsebastiansstan @urlitttlevenicebitch my babies! @deepsthroats @niteskysx @motherismotheringggg @blackynsupremacy @nicholaslut @nickchavezs @sexyblkmf @emluvsuxo @lalavenderangel @greengoblinswifey

A ♡.

[is-the-sky-blue]

NEW LIFE: GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU

Chapter 1 - Strangers, Stupefy, Suspension

Synopsis: When you are thrust into a new life of motherhood you find yourself overwhelmed.

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending), fluff, satosugu x reader, creepy old man, mention of teen pregnancy (reader is not pregnant)

>Part 1< Part 2 Part 3

Being a teen mom is scary and strange to say the least

You never planned for this to happen but then again you guess no one plans to become a teen parent. But at least with pregnancies they are an expecting parent, they have time to prepare, ready themselves to adjust to their new life, but you were pushed into a life of children without any forewarning. Suddenly a care taker of three five year olds and a six year old despite being almost a hundred percent sure that you didn't even have your period six years ago.

It's an inexplicable feeling to comprehend the idea of being a mother of four despite never having sex. A strange thought for children to manifest in your life without any time to prepare. You didn't have the scare of not having your period for a month, never needing to buy a pregnancy test to try it out while praying for only one line as the thought of lugging around a swollen belly throughout campus sent anxious beads of sweat down your spine. Never giving birth but even if adoption encompassed the same criteria at least these parents could plan, filling out paperwork as they searched online for beds and toys in the mean time.

Even with foster parents they are expecting a child to enter their home to some extent, ready to open their doors yet you never undid the lock, it was kicked down with a battering ram as you didn't only face the responsibility of caring for one life like most expecting parents, but four. 

It's a bizarre emotion to come to terms with as you sit at your laptop in the dead of night, trying to scroll quietly as you read forums, and scoured through mommy blogs, finding parenting books only to half relate to each confessing adult. 

No one is ever ready to be a parent, a line that struck close to home yet as they continue so did your disconnect, reading words that contained foreign experiences as they try to console the masses but not you. Sharing how motherhood is a struggle yet as you watch your child grow you slowly get accustomed to it, figuring out your child's unique quirks, their likes, dislikes and what works for your family. That after birth and you hold your child for the first time a sense of maternal love washes over you. How changing your baby's diaper for the first time and feeding them are moments where your connection only grows and you find a way to handle your conflicting emotions. They continue to go on, stating that it's fine to make mistakes, confessing how they accidentally burned their baby's hand with a curling iron but they'd forget soon enough anyways, brains not able to retain memories from so young yet you couldn't afford making such mistakes. Your children will most definitely remember any accidental pain or misstep you make, after all even in your high school years you could still recall stories of your elementary youth. 

You couldn't afford to inflict anymore trauma whether it be purposeful or not, especially since these children you huddled in your home carried a dark past with them that you struggled to light up, your bulb barely dim, struggling to even create a spark to brighten their situation. 

Your experiences with children limited, even in your youth you never hung around kids your own age much, living with only your grandmother facilitating an environment where you spent a lot of free time listening to gossip about other townsfolk in your village and how your neighbours, cousins, mailman apparently had an affair. You spent more time learning how to cut fruit into fun shapes like dragons, knowing how to traditionally make matcha and play shogi with your elders instead of playing tag in the back parking lot of your school after class. 

Your living room often filled with elderly grandmas as they huddled around your tv, peeling apples as the latest episode of their favourite soap opera graced the screen, yelling about the stupidity of the male lead as you walked inside through the genkan rather than having peers over where you inevitably talked more than studying for your upcoming test. However instead of it being peers or elders on your couch it was now children, four children that you had to pay attention to. You couldn't let your inexperience keep you from caring for them.

You couldn't let your habits of letting your boyfriends handle it continue on. No longer able to just push off the responsibility of letting, usually, Suguru coax a crying kid out from where they hid in an abandoned warehouse while on a mission whereas you focused more on smashing cursed spirits through walls.  

You couldn't do that now, no monster in your living room to divert your attention towards while a child sobbed. Suguru couldn't handle it every single time, you had to uplift their mood, had to make conversation even if you could only nod your head at their incoherent ramblings, often puzzled as you sat silently but attempting to appear attentive, but you knew you were bad at it. It was obvious, especially when Satoru popped next to you, sparking a delight into the children as he gasped and laughed, their big grins never targeted towards you.

You were unable to find a way to form a sense of connection, it was as though a growing ravine separated you from the rest of your mushed , abruptly pieced together family. You were a household unit, a family but it felt instead of being a caretaker you were some sort of second cousin twice removed who crashed on the couch in the basement, an invisible presence that no one acknowledged as you ignored any and all responsibilities.

Opting to hide in the kitchen instead of tying pigtails on little girls while they got ready for school. Trying to keep a sense of distance as you watched Suguru weave intricate styles, a job you'd traditionally have, knowing full well you were better at braiding than the long haired man as it was often your hands doing his hair and yet you busied yourself with flipping pancakes, pretending not to see him struggle with the small thin hair tie, not acknowledging how he snapped a third one while trying to secure one of the twins' ponytails. 

Part of you just refused to acknowledge these children as your own, unsure on how to become their parent when you yourself were still a child. It slightly felt as though if you didn't interact with them then maybe this wouldn't be your reality, this wouldn't be your life. 

It's not that you didn't want to be apart of this new family, it's just that you didn't know how, any exchange between you and one of the kids that inhabited your home feeling awkward at best as you stumbled through your minimal knowledge collected on children, ideas you've read yet struggled to implement. 

You weren't sure if any of them even quite knew who you were despite it almost nearing a month of them being in your care, a relatively short period of time in the grand scheme of things but a long one when considering you've been with them 24/7. 

You were useless, a straggler in this house who offered nothing other than a salary. Suguru and Satoru had fallen into their roles almost seamlessly. Geto you could expect  this from with his already caring nature but even the arrogant Gojo was doing better than you. 

You were an unneeded presence, every passing moment left you thinking what would happen if you packed your bags and disappeared, would it matter, would anyone in this house care. It's not like the family dynamics would shift, not like you'd abandon any responsibilities as you carried none in the first place. 

The only thing you'd leave in your presence was a salary that wouldn't even create much an impact with Satoru carrying the Gojo name and wealth, the disappearance of your cheque merely seeming like a couple of cents to this household.

You found yourself wondering what your life would currently be like if you had taken Satoru and Suguru up on their initial offer.

It was like a domino effect, the three of you separating to go on individual missions. You could still remember the day as you sat on the stairs leading to Jujutsu Tech, Satoru's messages letting you know he was on his way back, with a surprise at that

You were rubbing your arms for warmth as you pondered exactly what surprise he'd be bringing, maybe a souvenir or new snack he'd wanted you to try. "(Y/N)!!!!" he called and you sprung to your feet with a grin, spotting his head of white hair skipping down the sidewalk, his empty hands sparking confusion before your eyes landed on two short bodies trailing after him.

His surprise was two children he had kidnapped.

"I missed you" and his arms wrapped around you instantly, a puckered kiss landing on your cheek as you tried to squirm out of his grip, peering over his shoulder at the two kids who still stood a few meters away, Satoru's sudden burst of speed not reciprocated by the children. 

"Who" you furrowed your brows with a whisper "are they?" you tried to keep your voice low, not wanting them to hear but it seems as though the man didn't get the memo 

"This is Megumi and Tsumiki Fushiguro!" he grinned, patting the tops of their head, or at least trying to, Tsumiki compliant while Megumi tried to swat him away. "They're Toji's kids," he stated as though it was no big deal, "and well you know about the Zenin clan," he yammers off and to be honest you were tuning him out after that moment, staring at the two children who met your gaze. "And you know how I kinda kille-"

"Yeah yeah I get it," you cut him off, knowing full well that this wasn't an appropriate conversation topic to have with the children, of said dead man, around. "So what are they doing here," you tried to say in an unoffensive tone, not wanting them to think they were an undesired presence.

"Well I was thinking of keeping them safe so the Zenin clan doesn't get their mangy little hands on them," he whistles, trotting up the steps as he wandered towards the school "let's get inside first, it's kinda cold," he hummed.

The Fushiguro children had quickly taken residence in your bedroom and you left them in Satoru's care, spending a few more hours in the main school building under the pretense of training to give the kids a bit more space, or at least that's what you rationalized to yourself, not wanting to confront your true feelings of discomfort and shock as you let Satoru entertain them, his lack of comments on your missing presence further solidifying your attempts to distance yourself to figure out your new situation. Suddenly a care taker to two children you had never met before but were reminiscent of a man you had disdained. 

It wasn't until you returned back to your room that night, exactly two days after Satoru's arrival, that you realized Suguru had returned. You expected to merely see two children in your room, not four. You weren't ready, not prepared for a surprise of any sort and your shock was evidence, your feelings far more evident than with Satoru as you froze in the entrance, almost immediately catching sight of two little girls standing on your desk chair in front of the bathroom mirror clinging to Suguru as he stood, comb in hand. 

"Oh" was the only thing you could say, the two girls appearing disheveled, bruises loitering their sunken faces, and you noted the slightly bloody towel on the floor, the neat bandages wrapped around their bodies and plastered on their face.

"You just missed Shoko," Satoru commented but you couldn't take you attention away from the other set of children that infiltrated your space. You caught Suguru's eyes instead, a cursory glance thrown over his shoulder as he offered a shaky smile, facade far more pale, a sense of fear loitering in his gaze.

"I-Is that so," you try to divert again, replying back to Satoru as you slipped off your shoes, trying to regain a sense of composure. "Well," you paused your bag slumping against the floor with a heavy thump and you watched as the girls grabbed for Suguru, paranoid glances being shot your way as he pat their heads, trying to soothe them. "You should probably dampen the ends of their hair, it'd help," you offer, watching as he struggled to get through the tight knots in their locks, "but it also might be best to cut off the ends," you murmur, averting your gaze as you unpacked your bag, putting your textbook back onto your bookshelf, sending a small nod to the Fushiguro siblings who perched on your bed, peering at you over the manga you let them borrow, "because they are so dry."  

"You think so," he hummed and you felt a sudden rush of anxiety overwhelm you, your ability to suppress your flooding feelings slowly dwindling after only a few seconds. They doubled from two to four. You hadn't even adjusted to the thought of two new presences in your life, but now it felt all too real. You couldn't ignore it, your feeling of helplessness as you stared at what you quickly realized would become your family. Four children you weren't consulted about, four children who now only had you and your boyfriends to rely on.

"I just realized," you purse your lips, trying to push back the bitter bile that suddenly rose in your throat, these sudden changes looming over you as your small dormitory grew tighter with each second, as though the walls were closing in. "I forgot my water bottle at the track," you attempted to persuade, keeping tears at bay as you clenched your fists, still not ready to confront reality, not ready to enter this type of life. "I'm just gonna go and-" you were hastily slipping your shoes on, feeling your fingers shake, "g-get it real quick," and you couldn't hide the shaky crack in your voice, your ill concealed suffocation known.

You had left that day, you probably could've never returned, but you did, taking four hours too long to supposedly grab your water bottle. It was dark when you re-entered, quiet, the only light from a dim computer screen on your desk and the warm glow from your lamp on your side table. You could make out four children sprawled about your room, the twins asleep beneath the covers of your bed, the Fushiguros each taking up a bean bag chair. Small snores filling the air along with whispered mumbles

"(Y/N)," they had called softly upon hearing the creak of the door, eyes suddenly on you. Bodies quick to rise to greet you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," Suguru approached first, his hand resting on your cheek and you stared up at him, refusing to let the pit in your stomach grow and let your bottom lip wobble. "I texted you but I should've called you."

"It's fine," you nod, "It's my fault for not checking my messages" you sighed, remembering the list of texts between Suguru and Satoru that you had finally read after leaving, messages sent before Suguru had arrived home loitering on your phone, mentions of the dark haired man's discovery and how he'd be bringing the girls back that your silenced phone didn't let you privy to. No notifications of his warning jumping to your home screen. "What are you two doing" you hummed, trying to shift the conversation, unable to take his pitiful glance any longer, slipping from his grip, not believing in yourself to stay composed in his grasp but part of you wished you hadn't, the screen holding images of houses for sale.

"We were looking for somewhere new to move into," Satoru explained, "we need more space," he gestured throughout your room and you paused, the situation suddenly growing even more real.

"Move," you paused, eyes downcast as you tried to steady your breaths but jolted when Suguru tried to hug you from behind, escaping from his comforting hold, not ready, not willing to fall apart right now. 

"Yeah..." Suguru trailed off, slowly retreating his hands to his pockets, your refusal clearly hurting but even with the look on his face that had been there since he retrieved the two girls you couldn't find any more of yourself to spare, not able to emotionally handle the grief apparent in his features along with your whirlpool of flustering feelings. 

"If you don't want to move you don't have to," Satoru says suddenly, catching your attention.

"What do you mean, you just said we couldn't stay here because the kids need more space," you snapped at him with a hushed tone, unsure on why there was an anger rising within you.

"Yes they do, but you don't have to go with them."

"So you want to buy a house and let them live alone," you quirked a furrowed brow and you felt a thick tension rise in the air.

"No," Suguru hesitated, "we were considering moving out with them and letting you stay... here."

"What-" you frown turning to him, feeling those tears sting, unable to keep them away, "are you trying to abandon me."

"It's not that!" Satoru is quick to reassure, voice reaching an octave too high, the sudden groan coming from your bed sending the three of you into quick silence before the shuffling ceased and one of the twins, you didn't know who, still unsure on either of their names, returned to sleep. 

"You didn't sign up to take care of them," Suguru said in a hushed tone, "we don't want to force you into a parent position when you don't have to be, after all it was Satoru and I who brought them here, you don't have to take responsibility for them." 

You stared at the ground in front of you, letting water blur your vision as you bit your lip. "You are clearly uncomfortable and we just don't want you to feel like you have no choice but to go along with us."

"What do you mean I have a choice, of course I don't have a choice," you snap, feeling a rivulet cascade down your cheek.

"Baby you don't have to come with us."

"What do you mean, of course I do. We are dating aren't we, what would happen to our relationship if I just stayed here, huh," you began to spout incredulously, feeling a sob quietly wrack out form, trying your best not to make too much sound, not wanting more onlookers as you fell apart, "do you want to break up with me, is that it, is this just your way of trying to break up with me," you shudder.

"O-of course not," Satoru stuttered clearly taken aback by your sudden crumbling, aware of your slowly slipping sanity but not expecting the breaking point to be when they were trying to offer you an out.

"We love you so much, you know that don't you," and Suguru is staring at you with a pleading look, fist clenching, unsure on whether he should make a move forward. 

"Then you wouldn't be trying to leave me like this" you pursed your lips, staring at them with anger as you balled your hands. 

It was dropped after that, you followed them, the escape you thought you needed, the door you thought was locked was opened by them, mournful glances as they clearly did not want you missing but allowed you a chance anyways, shut by your own hands, sealed with your own will.

You had stayed on your own accord, demanded that you wanted to stay which only further fueled the guilt you carried as you stumbled about clumsily, clearly not fit for the lifestyle you somewhat voluntarily signed up for. 

This is a choice you made, you just had to work harder to be able to fulfil the role you wanted to claim and today was a great opportunity to make some sort of progress in that mission.

"I specifically demanded that a parent or guardian is present not a sibling!" the man in front of you rumbled, his brows furrowed as he stared you and the little boy next to you down, his cheek covered with a band-aid that accompanied the matching ones on his palm and knee. His lips pulled into a pout as he sent a resentful glare to the older that lectured you both.

"I'm sorry," you could only bow, hyperaware of how young you truly are to be Megumi's caretaker but you couldn't dwell on the thought, not right now. The heavy hearted sigh that released afore you had you stiffening.

"Regardless you and you family need to take better care of that brat, problem children aren't allowed in my school, learn to discipline him," and the gruff words had you gripping the arm rests of your chair to keep your anger in check.

"I would prefer it if you didn't call him such names," you attempted politely

"And I would prefer it if he didn't hit his fellow classmates," he spat, gesturing to the boy and his family who sat in the seat across from you, the black eye having boy clinging to his mother's shirt, eyes rimmed with red as he stuck his tongue out at Megumi. "Especially classmates who are children of esteemed benefactors that help keep our schools programs running" he tacked on and you had to bite your lip from spewing that no money was being donated to the school but his greedy pockets, knowing full well that art programs were still fully reliant on parents to provide materials to their children, after all it was you who visited the craft store more than once, but then again he probably assumed you were just an ignorant elder sister who didn't know much. 

"That's right! Do you know how much it'd cost if we decided to press charges," yet another pompous man chimed, twiddling with the end of his mustache "we are clients to one of the best law firms of the country, in fact we are one of their biggest investors," and you had to keep yourself from tsking at his flaunt of wealth knowing there was a black card in a certain blue eyed boy's pocket that'd be able to buy all their assets and not make a dent into the never ending digits of his bank account.

"I am truly sorry that Megumi hurt your child but I'm sure he had a reason for acting out, he's a sweet kid I swear," you explain, knowing full well of his kindness, despite being merely an onlooker the way he watched out for his elder sister and the twins as well was evidence of his caring personality. 

"Are you saying my kid deserved to get punched by that brute," the mother finally huffed, still holding onto her child.

"That's not what I sai-"

"Then what are you saying, I mean look at my son, our heir, do you think he received these bruises because they were merely roughhousing." 

"I'm just trying to state that your son might've done something to trigger Megumi is all, I mean he's hurt too."

"For gods sake kid," the principal tsked, "you just don't get it, it doesn't matter whether or not that boy is hurt the Sato heir has been harmed by his filthy little han-"

"I don't appreciate you badmouthing my son in front of me! Megumi's wellness is also important!" you snapped, furrowing your brows, "as an educator you should treat these boys equally despite how much money his dad gives you."

"Ha!" the so called prestigious father snickered, "son," he whistled and you could feel a sudden sense of dread shadow over you, "looks like I see where that runt gets it from now, how old are you anyway," and his eyes seemed to rake slowly up and down, his leering gaze causing you to cringe in your seat. "When'd you get knocked up, huh," he chuckled and you clutched the arm rest, trying your best just to grit your teeth are bare it.

"I don't think that's an appropriate thing to say in front of children."

"Well you are far from appropriate it seems," he chuckled once more, "if you are so willing to spread your legs I'll make sure to give a well disciplined kid," he smirked, a grotesque face that had a wave of nausea churn in your gut and you could feel the wood splinter beneath your hands, your expression of disgust mirrored on his wife's face but she was quick to recompose herself.

It wouldn't be hard to make it look like a cursed spirit attacked and left some deceased in their wake. "Calm down sweetheart don't get your panties in a bunc- AHH" he jolted, toppling from his chair with a heavy thud. "What's wrong with you!" he screamed, fingers reaching up to touch his face, horrified to find a slit of blood leaking from his cheek.

"Calm down old man, wouldn't want you having a heart attack now," you growled, fully standing as you retracted your arm, tsking at the splinter of wood sticking out the far wall, piercing the hung portrait of the principal, he once sat in front of, right in the heart. 

"I- are you crazy!" the principal fumed, stumbling to his feet as suddenly the Sato boy burst into a fright of tears, clinging to his mother, "what kind of psychopath bitc-"

"Let's go Megumi," you cut him off, keeping him from saying such words to the little boy as you tap his shoulder, hauling his backpack off the floor as you ushered him out the room, double doors slamming open as other administrators rushed in, startled by the sudden commotion but you walked through the crowd, bodies parting as you led Megumi out of the office, a silence washing over you two as you exited out the main doors, quietly walking down the steps, the click of metal ringing as you slung the backpack over one of your shoulders, little keychains hitting one another as you approached the crosswalk, staring at the big red hand that faced the two of you as the little automated beeps echoed the movements of your prodding fingers.

"Hold my hand..." you break the silence, extending a palm out to the boy but his sudden blank stare had you slightly recoiling. 

"Why?" he just furrowed his brows looking up at you.

"Uh," you pause, you didn't quite have an answer you just knew that children were supposed to hold the hands of someone older while crossing the street, "for safety," you offer and he shakes his head.

"How is you holding my hand gonna keep me safe," he huffed, "we'll just both get hit by a car instead."

"Oh, well..." you think, "if there is a car, I'll be able to get you out of the way quicker by throwing you to the other sidewalk if I'm holding your hand," you try and his unnerved gaze had you questioning your every word before a heavy sigh left his lips, his hand meeting yours just as the crosswalk switched.

"I probably got suspended or expelled," he suddenly piped, seemingly unbothered as the two of you stepped across the street.

"Yeah sorry 'bout that," you apologize with a scratch of your head.

"It's not your fault," he murmured, "I would've got suspended even if you didn't throw a chair at that jerk's dad."

"I didn't throw the whole chair, just part of it."

"Does it really matter, you still threw a chair at him," and you didn't have anything to say back to that as he soon pulled out of your grasp as your feet met pavement again.  "And you broke the principal's painting."

"Okay I get it," you mumble, suddenly feeling like a scolded child as you readjusted the backpack slung across your shoulder before you caught sight of the blooming bruise on his cheek, a red scab of slowly drying blood crusted on his lip and you looked up to glance at the sky before he could catch you staring. "Well uhm, it's kinda hot today," you pitch, the barely peeking sun creeping out from behind the clouds, the gloomy sky, clearly going against your comment, "do you want to go get ice cream..?" 

Suddenly his feet halted from where he stomped in front of you, the pebble he was kicking running sideways into the road as he spun around, "ice cream.." he paused, skeptical, "why?"

"J-Just because," you stammer, "it's hot, aren't you warm," you try to play it off, "we can go to the corner store just down there," and you point down street, the floor sign advertising a new product a couple meters away indicating where the shop was located.

"I got into a fight today," he huffed, "why are you giving me a treat."

"Man aren't you just supposed to say okay and book it until I change my mind," you raise an accusing brow.

"Well you're being weird, you aren't really good at this whole parenting thing."

"Sorry for not being a professional," you scoff half heartedly, sparing a lopsided smile as you lead him towards the store. "So let's just go yeah?" and you speed up your pace.

It didn't take long for you to reach the door, the boy obviously more excited than he was letting on with the way he rushed alongside you, the ringing of the bell above the door singing as you pushed open the glass, letting him walk in first before you travelled through the store you knew all too well, the place a spot you used to frequent in your first year, Satoru loving the strawberry swirl twin pops that he'd eat all on his own, the artificial flavour a bit too much for even your palate and something Suguru would rather jump off a bridge than eat, Shoko not even option to share with but it's not like he minded, far too excited to eat both on his own. 

The big brand covered blue floor freezers greeted you and you stared through the glass top, the colourful packaging catching your eye before a mop of spiky hair planted next to you, tippy toes trying to push themselves to their full height, unable to glance inside. "Do you want some hel-"

"No," he was adamant, bouncing up and down as he scanned, "I want that one" he slammed the clear lid, little hand smacking absentmindedly, obviously unaware of his options as he chose at random.

"Okay," you grin, spotting the strawberry twin pops but you ignored where he pointed, knowing full well the little kid wouldn't enjoy it, your observations over the past few weeks leading you to believe he enjoyed chocolate more based on the snacks he'd specifically choose from the stash Satoru would bring home almost everyday. "Here," and you yank out a chocolate covered vanilla ice cream, handing the packet to him before grabbing one of your own, "I like these ones too," you muse.

You were quick to head to the register, coin pouch at the ready, "but still, why would you buy me something for getting into a fight," he said again, his demeanor more worried, eyes a bit wider and you hum, trying to formulate an answer.

"Well you're a sweet kid, I know that much."

"But I beat up another kid."

"For a good reason."

"How would you know that."

"Because that boy was picking on Mimiko," you state, placing down both your items onto the counter, flashing a smile to the cashier as you pay. "Thank you," you wave to the worker, pushing open the door to let Megumi out. 

"How do you know that," he finally asks, his peering eyes curious.

"That kid had her hair tie on his wrist," you note, unwrapping his dessert, pulling the wrapper down around the stick, words of mommy blog past telling you how to avoid sticky hands before handing it to him. "And it's certainly no coincidence that Mimiko and Nanako are on a field trip today," you continue, watching as he breaks through the outer chocolate layer, the cream cooling his slightly swollen lip. 

"You are weird," he huffs and you can only reach down to ruffle his hair.

"Back at ya!"

You were quick to patch him up once you got home, little lessons you learned from Shoko and your line of work making first aid second nature as you applied ointments to his lips and ice to his bruises before letting him rest in his room, quietly taking respite in your own bed, the sound of children voices entering your home not stirring you to stand as you lay, lingering words itching at your skin.

 'When'd you get knocked up, huh.' You aren't even an actual teen mom and yet these comments sent a disgust shiver around your bones, a gnawing discomfort sucking at your marrow as you curl tighter, it felt shameful, scary, your situation was misinterpreted and you felt so sick, you couldn't believe how others your age who actually went through the fearful process felt.

Squeezing your eyes shut you let a singular stray tear fall down onto your pillow before wiping it away, not letting sadness linger before slowly letting the heavy blankets fall off your body, pushing yourself to sit at the end of the mattress. They were home you should greet them.

But you couldn't bare to move. 

The clock ticked closer to dinner and yet Megumi hadn't seen you leave your room. The door sealed shut, neither the blue eyed freak or Suguru had gone to check in on you so he just assumed it was fine. They had returned a few hours ago and yet you hadn't gone out to greet them, but he didn't bother to pry, not when he was tasked with setting up the table, carrying bowls of steaming rice from where his sister stood at the counter, spooning it into bowls at the rice cooker, to the oval wooden table a few meters away. 

He found it strange, taking notice of your lack of presence when everyone sat down to eat, no one called for you, but then again you often missed dinner. The few weeks they had all gathered in this new home missing your presence at the dining table during all meals, your presence only ever loitering in the kitchen either prepping or serving foods, never taking a moment to sit down with them, always in some type of rush. 

He knew this and yet it felt weird not to have you around, the singular chair that remained empty suddenly feeling like an eyesore as he picked at his broccoli. 

"So Megumi do you wanna tell me what happened to your face yet," Suguru finally asked, turning away from little Mimiko who finished her story.

"Nothing," it was dismissive, shoving the chunk of broccoli into his mouth, trying to avoid conversation under the pretense of having his mouth full, even if he wasn't fond of the flavour.

"So you got those bruises from nothing," the gremlin man asked him and Megumi scrunched his face, waving his hand at the giant to try and shoo him away. "Megum-"

"Satoru leave it for now," Suguru hummed, taking notice of the little ears listening in from all around the table, "he's not too hurt right Megs," he grinnned, trying to ease the worried look on Tsumiki's face.

"Mhm," he grumbled.

The food filling their plates came and went and soon enough after a few episodes of cartoons the two men were hauling him and his sisters off to bed, and unfortunately the glasses weirdo was in charge of tucking him in.

"So you want to tell me what happened at school," he prodded again, crouching down right next to the side of his bed and Megumi just stared up at this ceiling, ignoring his alien eyes. 

"No."

"Well can you just tell me anyways."

"No."

"Jeez tough crowd," he sighed, slumping his head onto the mattress as he flopped to his butt, the low toddler bed easy for him to lean on from the ground. "Seriously you don't want to tell me anything."

"Yup."

"Well then, anything notable that happened at school that doesn't have to do with the bruises on your face," he asked, trying to get something out of the boy.

"Mmm," he just groaned, flipping over to his side, back to the man as he faced the wall "well," and Satoru could pick up on the lingering question weighing on the boy's mind.

"What is it," he quietly spoke, as though if speaking loudly would spook the query away.

"What does being knocked up mean?" he finally spoke.

"Huh!" the man all but shouted, startled by the words and Megumi flipped around to face the perturbed adult, glasses on the tip of his nose as he stared at the kid, mouth agape.

"Never mind," he grumbled.

"Wait, wait, wait," the man rambled, suddenly springing to his knees, lurching forward to try and keep Megumi from dismissing him, "where'd you hear that?" yeah maybe knocked up as in knocking on a door, right, he tried to reason, hoping context would help his situation.

"At school,"

"Who said that, and why,"

"Why are you asking so many questions," the boy grimaced, suddenly feeling interrogated, "just go, let me go to bed." 

"Megumi can't you just tell m- OW," and the boy started thrashing, kicking at the tall white haired man, trying to force him out of his room.

"Just leave you old man!" he yelled, suddenly feeling his kicks no longer connect as the sorcerer reactivated his infinity. 

"Okay, okay," and he pushed to his feet, rubbing at his arm, pretending to be harmed more than he was while the child only stuck his tongue out, clearly feeling no remorse as he got out of bed to try and push him away faster, door being slammed the moment his feet left the threshold of his door, nearly being slammed between the wood as the sound resonated throughout the hall.

"What was that about?" Suguru asked, quietly shutting the door to the twins' room, brow raised in confusion.

"Megumi just asked me what being knocked up means," he murmured, still quite shocked.

"What?" Suguru jolted, shoulders straightening as his eyes narrow in confusion, "wait why."

"I don't know, I tried to ask but he kicked me out," and he gestured to the door. 

"Should I go try and as-"

"What's going on," it was a quiet voice, the small peek of warm light pouring into the dim hall, and they spotted your head around the door frame, hair messy as you whispered.

"It's just about Megumi," Satoru sighed, walking over to you before snaking his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder as you perch on your tippy toes, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"Did something happen," you mumble, head resting on his chest as he swayed slightly, the only sound you caught was Satoru's surprised yelp before Megumi called him old and threw him out, the sound quite amusing and you were eager to catch the expression on his face, however his warm touch was still welcomed even if you missed the perturbed look you wanted to see and giggle at.

"Megumi asked me what being knocked up meant," and you felt a wash of dread strike you.

"O-oh is that so," you tried to laugh it off, "is this what kids talk about in school," you attempt but Satoru felt you stiffen in his grip the moment the words left his lips and it seemed Suguru caught the flash of a certain emotion cross your face.

"You picked Megumi up from school today right," Suguru approached, soft smile on his lips as he took ahold of your hand that rested on Satoru's back.

"Yeah," you breathed, suddenly feeling a strange sense of guilt.

"Was there anything specific that happened, I noticed that he had some bruises on his face,"  he continued, his tone was gentle, yet you still felt unsettled.

"Oh, well he got into a fight with one of his classmates."

"Hm," and Satoru pulled away, hands planted on your shoulders as he stared at you, "did he win."

"Toru that can't be your first question," Suguru sighs and he pulls the two of you into your shared room, worried that not asleep children would listen in on your conversation.

"But it's important," the man groaned, flopping back first onto the bed.

"You're such a weirdo," Suguru mumbled, taking a spot next to him before opening his arms for you to rest in, but you merely opted to sit next to the laying bodies, interlacing your hand with his, your actions clearly unexpected.

"And you like that," Satoru wiggled his brows before Suguru let a heavy hand fall onto his gut, laughing at his groan. 

"Anyways do you know why he got into a fight," Suguru raised a brow and you reach to play with his hair, toying with the ends.

"Some boy was picking on Mimiko at school," and this seemed to catch their attention as both of their gazes snap towards yours, "Megumi gave him a good beating though," you snickered.

"If he didn't I would, maybe I still will," the blue eyed boy mumbled and you couldn't restrain your laugh, feeling that guilt wash away.

"You can't beat up a little kid."

"Who says."

"The law." 

"But regardless does that mean you got called in to the office."

"Yeah," you hum, you small ministrations of toying with his hair halting as your tried to suppress the bubbling memories, "I think he might've gotten expelled."

"For beating up one kid? What about that boy, he was picking on Mimiko," Satoru jolted to sit, face full of rage.

"No I think it might also be my fault," you sigh and decide to lay on your back grabbing one of the pillows to hold close to your chest .

"Your fault... what'd you do," and Satoru is grinning, prying eyes prodding at you and you couldn't help but turn away.

"I kinda threw part of a chair at the boy's dad."

"You threw a chair," Suguru laughed incredulously.

"Only part of it!" you whined.

"But you threw a chair," and Satoru joined in on the laughter as Suguru pulled you close, his chuckles vibrating in his chest, the feeling tickling your cheek.

"Yeah and I think he was a big deal too."

"Can't be a bigger deal than a Gojo," the man snarkily remarked.

"Wellllll," you drag out, "apparently they are esteemed benefactors that are clients of one of the best law firms in the country," you mocked.

"and I don't need law firms to handle my work, I can deal with it on my own," Satoru hummed and Suguru snickered at his confidence.

"But still what happened that made you need to throw a chair," the long haired man chuckled, already imaging the sight and Satoru eagerly nodded, clearly ready for a juicy tidbit of drama.

"Oh well," you pause, "you know," and you trail off, prying yourself away from Suguru's arms, suddenly sitting as a new wave of dread swirled in your stomach, you should've diverted the conversation better, or thought of an excuse before hand, "um," you pause brain running blank.

"Hey..." and Suguru sits up, concerned, "did something happen," he continued, hand reaching for your back but he pauses when you tense, the pillow in your arms crumpling in your tight grasp.

"No nothing it's fine," you laugh, but the wet look in your eyes told him otherwise as your chest tightened with each breath.

"This doesn't have anything to do with Megumi asking what knocked up means...right?" Satoru furrows his brows, clearly concerned, words moving slowly from his mouth but the moment the question fell the tightening of your shoulders told him everything he needed to know. "Baby," he cautiously starts but you push yourself to your feet.

"Oh would you look at that, I completely forgot Yaga gave me a mission for tonight," avoid, avoid, avoid, your brain repeated, trying to slip out of your discomfort.

"(Y/N)," Suguru's voice was stern but you could only shake your head, cupping your ears with your palms as you tried to ignore his voice, you wouldn't let him stop you, you couldn't stop, you couldn't confront this, you couldn't tell them, not now, you weren't ready, the fear in your body wouldn't let you.

"I b-better get going," you choke out in response, your flooding waterline only the start to the progression of your deterioration, lip already beginning to quiver as your compressing lungs began to burn.

You were quick to try and walk away, quick to grab the door handle and start to pry it open, but he was quicker, Satoru's hand slammed the door shut, the small sliver of your escape locked in an instant.

You were trapped.

Oh no, oh no, you couldn't do this, not now, not with them, you couldn't let them see you like this and your hand was frantically trying to yank open the door but he was just far too strong, your shaking fingers not helping in your endeavour.

"(Y/N) don't try and run away from us again," he breathed, body leering over you as his hand slammed above you, keeping it tightly shut.

"Why won't you tell us what happened," Suguru cooed, the crease in his brow revealing his worry, "did they say something to you."

"No," you were too quick with your answer, they knew, they both knew, you were screwed, you were so so so screwed, "I- uh," and your eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape, the bathroom, could you get to the bathroom, if you did you could lock the door and maybe buy yourself some time.

"Don't even think about it," Satoru stopped your train of thought, and Suguru was quick to block the view of your only hope.

You were trapped, trapped, trapped and suddenly you felt the walls closing in on you, they were surrounding you, the ceiling was falling, the floor of dashing up quick.

"Woah there," and it wasn't the room but you, you were falling, back slumped against the door as you fell to the floor, big hands that only thing slowing your descent of keeping you from crashing down.

"(Y/N)," it was blurry sounding, that didn't make sense it couldn't sound blurry, but it did, it did why did it sound blurry, nothing made sense, what, where were you, why were you, and there was a pain in your chest, your chest it hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

"Breathe baby please," and your hand was raised to his chest, they were crouched, one hand was rested at the back of you head, keeping it from lolling to the side as you could feel your palm raise and fall along with his own lungs, "can you just copy me please," and it was pleading, Satoru, Suguru you couldn't tell, couldn't tell whose limbs was whose, where your hand stopped and his body began, the murky colours fading in and out.

Why were you freaking out again, it doesn't make sense, why were you falling apart, it wasn't your fault, you did nothing wrong but why were you choking on air, why was their pain clawing at your organs, why did you feel nauseous. 

"Ohhh," you breathed out, eyes widening as you tried to process, your brain spiraling, why were you feeling so gross, so ashamed, you didn't do anything and your chest flooded with oxygen before you let it out with a huff, breaths following your hand, following his chest.

"There you go, thank you, thank you so much," and he still sounded blurry.

"They said," you sobbed, the words sending a shudder through your body, "t-that I was, they said I wasn't appropriate."

"appropriate?" one voice whispered and you could feel your chest heave.

"S-Said I should s-spr" and the word felt foul coming out of your mouth, "spread my l-legs," you hiccupped, "that he, he would give me a well disciplined kid, and, and, and I," you stumbled over your words, brain rambling as your mouth followed, unsure if you were even stringing together real sentences.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and your hand gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, "I'm sorry that jerk said that to you," he continued and you wrapped your arms around him, head burrowing in the crook of his neck as another sob wracked your body, a somberful scream echoing onto his skin.

"I-I didn't like it, I didn't like it, I didn't," you cried, feeling hysterical, panicked, overwhelmed.

"I know, I'm sorry that happened to you, he's gross," and a hand was patting the back of your head. "But he's not here, you are safe, you'll be okay he can't touch you."

"I didn't like it."

Your cries continued, repetition spilling over and over again as you were held, brain mush as settings changed, feelings changed until you were wrapped in blankets tucked onto a mattress until silence broke into your cries.

Your eyes shut, you didn't quite know when, but it happened, must've happened because here you were opening them, cradled in tight grips holding you close. Your eyes hurt, they were sore when they fluttered open.

"Are you awake," soft, gentle and you knew this voice, it wasn't blurry it made sense.

"Yeah," you whispered and Suguru grinned.

"m'sorry," you murmured.

"What d'ya mean sorry, what'd you do wrong," Satoru was quick to grumble, chin resting on your shoulder as he scolded you.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," Suguru answered for you, reassuring any thoughts in your brain, "that must've been tough, being told such disgusting things," he comforted, validating your feelings.

"It was weird," you confess, "to be told things like that."

"It's not just weird, that guy's a creepy asshole." Satoru insulted and you couldn't help but laugh at his anger fueled insults and you pat the hand he had around your waist, turning your head to catch sight of his furrowed glare.

"He's right," Suguru nodded, "but when things like that happen don't try and keep it from us, we're a team, let us help you."

"But I felt bad."

"For what."

"Well, it's just, he spoke as though Megumi was my kid but," you pause "I mean I get that we adopted him, adopted all of them but I'm just not used to the idea of being," and you sigh the weighted word feeling heavy on your tongue and the connotated meaning sent a discomfort through you, "a mom," you spoke.

"That's alright," Suguru assured, "it's hard to get used to our new life."

"Yeah but," you sigh, brows creasing and suddenly your eyes stung, "I just feel so awkward around them, I don't know what to do, I've never taken care of a child before let alone 4 of them and I haven't even got to learn because- because other parents they, they," and you started stumbling again, bringing your hands up to roughly wipe at your eyes, "they get to at least learn as their children grow, but they are all already in school and everywhere I look they say you are able to learn as they grow but I can't do that, I don't know what to do it's just," and you let out a frustrated groan, legs slightly kicking in anger. "I just don't think I can be the mom, the mom they need,"

"Sweetheart," Suguru trails off.

"They went through so much and I just can't be the person they need me to be, I can't be like all those mom's who are able to comfort their kids and know what they need, I can't be a mom," you confess, "I mean they are just so good at it, they are able to handle it so effortlessly. Even today that Sato boy's mom was able to comfort her kid, she was able to hug him and he turned to her for comfort, I can never be that for these children, I'll never be able to provide that support they need and I, I," you were running out of breath, your ramblings long as weeks of insecurity finally verbalized.

"You," Satoru stops you, "won't be able to be that type of mom, the type of parent who does everything so effortlessly," and his words seemed to bite but he continued, "because that type of parent doesn't exist, what you see online is manufactured, all those things you read are written in a specific way, no one talks about meltdowns or tantrums or their insecurities, but even if they don't mention it,  that doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"Parenting is different for everyone, and it'll be especially different for our family, after all we have a learning curve to get over," Suguru cracked a smile, "but you are the smartest person I know," and his hand grabbed yours and your palm was on his lips, "you'll be able to find a lifestyle that works for you, you'll be able to learn how to talk to them, I know you will, I mean just think about today with Megumi, you picked him up from school, you were able to spend time with him alone and that was fine wasn't it."

"I probably got him expelled."

"And I would've instead if you hadn't," Satoru snapped, "now that he's already expelled there is nothing to lose when I crush that old perv's head." 

"Satoru," you whined, "you can't do that." 

"Well you threw a chair."

"I only threw a part of it," you huffed before resting your head backwards onto his shoulder, "I don't think I'll be able to do this," you sigh, "these kids deserve a mom who is good at their job, a mom who wants to be doing all of this and is able to do it with ease."

"But you do want this (Y/N), you stayed even when you had a chance to leave."

"Yeah but maybe I was wrong, maybe I was making a mistake. I was scared of losing you, I didn't want to break up, I was being greedy, I was looking at these kids and I could only think I could put up with anything if I could be with you. I was romanticizing this whole situation, I was dumbing it down, I haven't even done much and yet the little bit of parenting I actually do is far more difficult than I imagined. I just always feel exhausted, and scared that I'm gonna mess up and make them hate me, I just feel like some big burden in our family, you guys are able to handle it all, and I just hover around and-"

"What do you mean burden," Satoru scoffed.

"The only reason we are able to take care of them is because we know we can rely on each other, and you. Today didn't overwhelm us because I knew I could go on the field trip with the twins and Satoru could take Tsumiki to her art class after school, because we knew you'd be able to take care of Megumi, we knew you'd be able to take care of the loose ends." 

"(Y/N) we can only do this because you are here, the only reason I'm able to adjust is because I have you and Suguru as my 2 constants, you are a pillar that I can rely on and I want to be a pillar you can rely on too."

"I'm pretty sure it's a rock, not pillar." you correct but he only presses a ticklish kiss to the crook of your neck causing you to laugh.

"That's besides the point," and another kiss.

"Just remember," Suguru mused, leaning in to press his own kiss to your forehead, "take your time, you don't need to rush and try and become a person you aren't." 

"Okay, okay," and suddenly you couldn't stop laughing, Satoru pecking your skin over and over again, his hair tickling your neck.

"We can get through this together alright, remember you aren't alone," he mumbled against your flesh and the vibrations only further the sensation as you giggled, pushing his head away from your skin.

"Thank you," you could only smile, and it felt as though all your worries were crushed, in between their arms you knew you weren't alone, you'd be okay, you didn't have to be a mom, you could take your time with your learning. You were fine, you'd be fine.

"My face hurts," his little voice echoed and you raised your head, catching sight his mop of dark hair peeking in through the door frame and you sat up.

"Still?" you questioned, already to your feet, as you walked over to him, the once crusted over scab ripped away, beads of blood blotting his lips as the black eye only purpled even more from the last time you saw him, the bruises swelling stronger. "Did neither of you give him an ice pack" you turn around, staring at the two men who stiffen, Satoru's guilty look all you needed before you were ushering Megumi into the kitchen. You shuffled over to the freezer as the boy climbed onto the dining room chair, watching as you shook the frosted condensation off one of the ice packs before wrapping it with a clean towel.

You crouched down next to him, staring up at his bruised face, placing a gentle hand to poke at the swollen skin, grimacing as he winced, it really did get worse and you reached up to place the ice onto his cheek, patting his hand when he flinched. "Sorry I know it hurts, just hold that here okay" you tell him and he nods before you go and reach for the cabinet above the fridge, pulling down the plastic bucket of medicine, yanking out a bottle of ointment you had used earlier in the day, quickly moving to reapply it to his lip.

As you screwed the cap back on he only looked down, hands fidgeting as he opened and closed his mouth, hesitant to speak.

"Is something wrong," you tilt your head, trying to duck down to catch his eye.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly blurts out.

"Huh, what do you mean?" you smile "what are you sorry for."

"At school, they said mean things to you."

"That's not your fault," you shake your head, "and I'm fine see," you grin but he only turns away, voice lowering as he whispered.

"But you were crying."

"Oh," you hadn't realized he had heard you.

"You were sad," he mumbled, "because they said mean things to you, b-but they wouldn't have said anything if I didn't punch him."

"Hey Megs," and the nickname fell out effortlessly, "none of that is your fault, they are just mean people, I'm all better now, okay, so you don't have to feel bad, you didn't do anything wrong," you tried to reassure and you watched as his lower lip wobbled.

"Today must've been scary for you too huh," you ask, finally catching onto his flooding emotions, he was like you, trying to hold himself together until he couldn't anymore, and you watched as the first tear drop fall. He was crying, you froze, what were you supposed to do, and you could feel the hand you cupped on his cheek slowly dampen as you wiped his tear away.

He looked like you, so small, so helpless and completely overwhelmed and you couldn't help but think back to how Suguru and Satoru helped you, how they comforted you, now it was time for you to do the same. "C'mere," you whisper, opening your arms wide and he practically falls into embrace, his head resting on your shoulder and you sigh, listening as his sobs grew louder. He was scared, his fingers tightened around your shirt, holding onto you for dear life and you patted his back, trying to soothe him as you pulled him onto your hip, standing as you rocked him back and forth

"You'll be okay Megumi, I promise no one is going to get mad at you, you're safe now," and he hiccupped and you found yourself instinctively pressing a kiss to his temple as you bounced him in your grip, cradling him and as you lifted your head, you caught sight of two figures in the hall, watching you, smiling and you realized you could do this, you were doing it, parenting, the bonds you were worried about making were formed.

You didn't rush it, you took it at your own pace and you realized time will help you, aid you in your effort, and you hugged the boy tighter, you could do it, were were doing it, you weren't trapped, you weren't suffocated you were here, mimicking the love you felt, no not mimicking reciprocating it, you were sharing your own love with him as you comforted him, expressing your emotions as you patted his back, rubbing soothing circles as he cried.

"It's okay Megs, you'll be okay" you coo, you could share your love, you could parent at your own pace, you were able to do it. You were fine.

"We'll be okay" 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Jenni's Version): Future

Grace Clinton x Reader

Summary: You need to leave

"Mami! Mami! Mami!"

You smile slightly, continuing to pack your suitcase as your son lays back on your bed.

"Yes, my James?"

He grins at you. "Can I come?"

You shake your head. "You know you can't."

"But why?"

"Because Paris is a long way away from Lyon." You add another set of pointe shoes to your bag. "And I need you to do a very special job for me."

You sit down on the bed, patting the spot next to you.

James is more than happy to crawl towards you, leaning close to hear his special job.

"You're a very responsible boy, aren't you?"

He nods. "I helped Mummy pick up Ollie's poo yesterday on our walk!"

Ollie's your family dog. Grace had gotten him for you when the first two rounds of ivf didn't take and you'd been so down about it. You were right in the middle of your third round and losing hope when Grace had come home with a German Shepherd puppy.

You called Ollie your good luck charm because two weeks after you'd successfully potty trained him, you fell pregnant with your other golden boy, James.

"That's very responsible!" You tell him," Because I need a very responsible boy to help me out."

"I'm responsible! I'm responsible! What is it?"

"I need you to be in charge of the house while I'm gone," You tell him," That's why you can't come with. You've got to make sure Mummy doesn't order takeout every day and cleans up Olivia's toys when she's done playing."

Olivia's the other light of your life, your nearly one year old daughter.

You didn't particularly want to leave either of them but you'd been called up by the Paris Opera Ballet to be their guest Principal for one of the shows they were putting on and you loved dancing in their venue.

Originally, you were going to say no but Grace pushed you to accept. She was more than capable of looking after both of the kids at once.

"I'll make sure Mummy eats healthy and cleans up!" James tells you," Can I go tell her I'm in charge while you're gone?"

"I'm sure she would love that."

James goes bursting out of the room and you take the time to finish packing.

Ollie whines a little as you zip up the bag.

"I'm sorry, Ollie," You say, gently stroking his head," You know I'll back soon."

Ollie's the family dog, technically, but, secretly, you know he's yours. He had been incredibly protective over you when you were pregnant with Livy and he had been super excitable as a puppy when you were pregnant with James.

Fully grown now, he loved being in the same room as you. He adored the kids and Grace, of course, but you had always been his person.

Frankly, you were getting a little worried he was lonely in the house alone all day so you and Grace had been in talks about getting Ollie his own puppy.

It was only fair to Olivia as well.

Ollie grew up with James. It's only right to have a puppy for Olivia to grow up with too.

But, that was a conversation for when you got back and after your planned trip to Spain in the summer.

It would be nice, you think, to have a puppy for Ollie to be the best big brother too just like how James is the best big brother to Livy.

Ollie follows you down the stairs, his favourite tennis ball in his mouth as you start pulling your suitcase down.

Grace appears at the bottom, hurrying up to swap the bag with Livy and carry it the down for you.

"Careful, beautiful," She says as you swap," You don't want to strain anything before you go on stage." She winks at you and you roll your eyes.

"Did James tell you I've left him in charge?"

"He did," Grace replies with a grin," I think he's already planning on demanding Big Bed access."

"Don't let him," You remind her but your wife just shrugs.

"I don't know. He's making a convincing case. Says that it would be cold without you and he should be there to warm it up."

"If you get him in the habit of sleeping in our bed while I'm away, Grace Clinton, then you're in trouble and I'm choosing what breed the next puppy is."

"Oh, come on!" Grace is laughing though so you know she isn't taking your empty threats too seriously. "Cab's here though. You finished up just in time."

"Okay." You pull on your coat surprisingly well for someone balancing a baby in the other arm.

You litter kisses all over Livy's face as Grace calls James to the door.

"I'll miss you, Mami," He tells you and you crouch down to give him kisses too.

"I'll miss you too, James," You say," I love you, baby."

"Love you too."

He curls into your arms and your rock him side to side softly before pulling away.

"Remember, you're in charge, okay? So I want you to boss around Mummy and make her eat healthy, deal?"

He nods. "Deal."

"I'll see you in a week, amor," You tell Grace, pecking her lips a few times and laughing when she tries to chase your kiss each time.

"Love you, beautiful."

"Love you too."

[m00nb04rd5]

Elsa (Frozen)

[ncis-nerd]

I've got you babe

Ship: Olivia Benson x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, SA mention in detail, Fluff, Pet Names, Tickling, Older GF x Younger GF, Age Difference, Slight Mommy Kink.

About: A case gone wrong leaves you upset especially since you can relate to the case so you blame yourself but your older girlfriend Olivia provides a shoulder to cry on and comforts you.

Word Count: 792

Miscellaneous Masterlist

"Cmon baby, no need to be so shy. It's just me. Just mommy, my sweet girl. Let mommy see your pretty face, hm?" Olivia cooed.

The older woman coaxed you out of your little cocoon. Your head was buried in her shoulder.

As you slowly begins to pull away, your teary-eyes met Liv's.

"Oh honey.." Olivia sighed sadly.

She knew that this last case had taken a toll on you. The outcome of the case was so upsetting you took it personally, blaming yourself. Olivia's eyes, full of care and concern for you, scanned your face awaiting your reaction.

"Livie" you called out, finally your voice broke.

Olivia watched as the fragile girl began to sob. You attempted to cover your face with your fingers to spare your older girlfriend the energy of consoling you.

There was nothing Olivia could say to change the outcome of the case but what she knew talking would help her little love.

As captain, Olivia is aware of your background, how you were sexually assaulted in the past. She knew you could relate to the case on a deeper level, which is why you took the verdict so hard.

She sighed softly, her hand stroking your hair as the other caressed your back in attempt to ground you.

A few minutes passed, Liv was giving you the space to cry and let it all out before talking to you. There was no rush for you to open up, she understood. Liv has experienced this in victims and even in her own complicated history.

You sat limp in her arms as your tears met a halt. Your fingers started to trace light circles on Liv's back.

Olivia took this as a sign that you were ready to talk.

"Honey?" Liv spoke softly, her hand resting softly on your back.

You hummed in response.

"Are you ready to talk about it, my love?" The older woman asked, her face scanning you for signs of distress.

You and Liv had this agreement that you would always talk about it. If something was bugging the other, then you wouldn't let it escalate to an argument or fight. To talk about it and dispute the problem before it gets worse.

You scooted over, leaving some space between the two, but not much. Your hand clutched Liv's, not that she minded.

Olivia knew some form of physical touch helped you to ground you. It served as reassurance that Olivia was real and you would be okay eventually.

You let out a shaky breath before glancing back at Liv. She nodded, motioning for you to go on.

"I think the reason this case is getting to me so much is because this has happened to me. Not this exact situation but I was touched... without my consent..a-and I've told you about it briefly but..." Your voice broke, gripping Liv's hand tightly.

With her other hand, Olivia reached out to rub your back. Subtly reminding you to breathe.

"P-part of me wished someone had came to save me, but no one ever did. It got worse but you know what? I grew up, and got the hell out of there." You exhaled, feeling a huge weigh lifted off your chest.

"That's right my love. What you experienced, is horrible, I have no words. But you're right, you got the hell out of there and I'm so proud of you for that. Shows how strong you are, look how far you came. You help people everyday, you are amazing, my gorgeous, generous, girlfriend." her voice softened with affection.

You let out a soft giggle in response. Liv, obviously confused, shoots you a puzzled look.

The older woman furrowed her eyebrows.

"That all started with g's, I just thought it was funny." You squeaked in a lighter tone.

"Oh? Hm? Funny am I?" Liv pushed, climbing onto you, trapping you beneath her.

You raised an eyebrow towards your girlfriend who looked like she was plotting something. Olivia smirked as she attacked you with tickles.

"l-livie!" You squealed.

"How funny am I now? Hm, sweetheart?" Liv teased.

You squirmed beneath her, out of breath "l-liv i can't breath!!" You giggled. "Oh, can't you now baby? " Liv inched closer towards you, pressing her lips against yours.

Liv fell in the empty space beside you, her hand caressed your face.

Your eyes met Olivia's warm brown eyes as you leaned into Livia's touch.

"I love you so much, babe." You whispered quietly.

"You are so perfect, angel." Liv whispered in response.

The two of you gazed at each other with nothing other than love. Laying in silence, clutching onto one another, as you both fell asleep tangled up in silence.

a/n: like, reblog and comment for more!!

[cosmicpearlz]

christmas wishes and kisses

summary: he was determined to confess tonight. preferably under the mistletoe, but the universe had other plans.

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

jude can count on both hands, how many times he's lost y/n in the crowd. one too many times for his liking. the annual christmas party that vini threw was in full swing. from member of real madrid being there to other celebrities and friends. but all jude wanted was alone time with y/n. something he couldn't get for the life of him tonight.

"you find her yet?" jobe clasps his hand onto jude's shoulder. the older boy sighs and shakes his head.

"no! i haven't seen her since she was talking to luka's wife."

"you had a whole plan though, right?”

"yes, i was supposed to bring her to one of the spare rooms that vini has and when we stand under the door, the mistletoe is gonna be there. then, i was planning on telling her how i felt."

"well don't give up now brother. there's still time."

-

you were nursing your second drink. originally coming to the party just to see jude. possibly hangout with him. and who knows, maybe even score a kiss or two. you've always liked the boy ever since you met him. remembering the way you guys became quick friends after he accidentally hit you with the door that he was walking out of. Jude refused to leave your side, 'in case something happens', is what he kept saying.

"livie, have you seen jude?" you yell over the loud music. your best friend shakes her head.

"no, i haven't. i did hear that he's looking for you too!" your heart skipped a beat.

"i'll just continue my search for him. if you see him before I do, let him know that I'm looking for him please."

"sure thing babes," olivia squeezes your shoulder and nods. you place your hand on hers, giving a light squeeze back before making your way around the house again. this time heading towards the kitchen area.

-

moving through bodies started to become exhausting. jude was starting to give up. the boy can't remember how many people he's ran to anymore, but he knew that it wasn't the person he wanted to see. heading to the kitchen with his head down, he bumps into another body.

"sorry," jude mutters, still not looking up from the ground.

"we've gotta stop meeting like this." the boy's head perks up, hearing the familiar voice. the one person he's wanted to be alone with the entire night.

"sorry y/n. i didn't see you there."

"yeah, too busy looking at the ground. heard you were looking for me though," you smiled brightly at the boy.

"can i show you something?" jude blurred out before he could think twice. the night had been long enough, and this conversation was long over due.

"lead the way, golden boy."

jude grabs your hand, leading upstairs. vini had sectioned that part of the house off. the music becoming slightly muffed. it was perfect and away from the crowd.

"what's going on jude?" you asked, as he stopped in front of a door. you gazed at him with confusion in your eyes.

"y/n, i don't regret hitting you with that door when we first met."

"hey! that's rude," you jokingly pushed his shoulder.

"what i mean is that i'm grateful to have you in my life. you're the best person to be around and i want to soak up every moment with you, just to bottle in it a jar and keep it forever. there aren't enough words to describe how you make me feel," jude grabs both of your hands and holds them gently in his.

"what i'm about to say may ruin our friendship. but i must put it out there. i really like you." you giggled and squeezed his hands softly.

"i really like you too. i'm so glad you said that!"

"no y/n, i like you. as in like like you."

"jude are we in middle school? i really like you too is what i'm trying to tell you!"

"ohh."

"yeah, ohh," you playfully mocked him, still sporting a small smile. jude begins to smile and looks towards to the celling. you follow his eyes. finding mistletoe hanging on the doorway.

"did you plan this?"

"maybe. do you like it?"

"it's corny." jude becomes bashful and looks down. almost pulling his hands from yours, before you tighten the grip you had on his.

"that doesn't mean i don't like it. i think you're very sweet and romantic. confessing your feelings for me under the mistletoe."

"can i kiss you?"

"i've only been waiting for a couple of months now," you grin up at him. the boy matches your grin, pulling you into a kiss. certainly, this was long overdue, but it was completely worth the wait.

[glitchgh0sty]

*shoves this at you* here you go! Working on a short story about jazz and prowl set in the decepticon prowl au. I hope I got the vibes right ❤️

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

Prowl did not leave the war room.

He had no reason to. Prowl had long since abandoned the concept of "outside."

Strategy did not require fresh air or open spaces—it required discipline. The outside world was irrelevant—an uncontrolled, unpredictable factor with no strategic value. The only things that mattered were data streams, enemy movements, and the ever-growing plans that turned battles in their favor. His duties required precision, vigilance, and absolute focus. He saw Soundwave and Shockwave once every few weeks for briefings, filled out his reports, then returned to work. It was efficient. It was necessary.

Everything outside of that was a waste of time.

He did not need distractions.

Which was why Meister was becoming a problem.

The new Decepticon was competent, which was the only reason Prowl tolerated his presence. But he was also disruptive—too confident, too relaxed, too quick with his glossa. He played the game well enough to earn Megatron’s trust, but Prowl wasn’t convinced. A mech who seemed to belong everywhere and nowhere at once couldn't be trusted his tact-net said. Plus, Prowl had his suspicions—Meister was too adaptable, too perceptive—but no evidence. Yet.

And now he was here, leaning against the side of Prowl’s terminal like he belonged there.

“You ever leave this fraggin’ room?” Meister asked, visor gleaming under the dim tactical lights.

Prowl didn’t bother looking up. “Irrelevant.”

Meister scoffed, arms folding across his chassis. “Tch. ‘Course you’d say that.”

Prowl’s optics flickered up at the tone—like amusement mixed with something sharper.

“You got somethin’ to say, Meister?”

Meister tilted his helm. “Just thinkin’ it’s funny. Megatron talks about strength, but you—” He gestured vaguely at Prowl’s station, littered with datapads and flickering displays. “—you hole yourself up in here like a half forgotten glitch."

Prowl’s optics narrowed. “I do not waste time on meaningless indulgences.”

Meister chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Right. ‘Cause tactics win wars, not the bots fightin’ ‘em.”

Prowl’s plating twitched. “Do you have a purpose for being here?”

“Yeah,” Meister pushed off the desk. “I do.” He took a step closer, voice dropping just slightly. “Come outside.”

Prowl’s vents cycled sharply. “No.”

“Just for a cycle,” Meister pressed. “Ain’t like the war’s gonna end in the time it takes for you to step outside and look at the fraggin’ sky.”

Prowl ex-vented slowly. “Unnecessary.”

“Y’keep sayin’ that, but y’ain’t got a real reason.” Meister tilted his helm, expression unreadable. “What, you scared or somethin’?”

Prowl’s optics flared. “Do not mistake my focus for fear.”

“Then prove it.”

The challenge lingered. Prowl held Meister’s gaze for a long, silent moment, processing the possible outcomes. There was no tactical advantage in agreeing.

But refusing would give Meister something to hold over him.

And that was unacceptable.

“…One cycle.”

Meister smirked. “That’s all I need.”

Ahaha.. AHHHHHH!!!?

Breathes, looks, breathes again. *Simply dies*. WHAT THE ACRUAL LIVI BFF AKNF VWVCIWJBG!??? THIS IS SO GOOD??? THE DIALOGUE!! THE DIALOGUE!!!! ECHO- CIRCUT! YOU ARE INSANE!! Can I spin you around and around?? Your brain! This is beautiful. I am without speech? I am without good and proper words?? YOU HAVE GOT DOWN THE CHARACTERS. SO GOOD!!! ITS ALMOST LIKE IM READINF POETRY AND ITS TEARING ME APART AND PUTTING ME BACK TOGATHER BOTH SIMULTANEOUSLY AND AT THE SAME TIME.. I literally read this and ended up grabbing my phone so hard while reading that my hand turned red. YOU HAVE A GIFT! OML! Breeeeathe. OhMIgosh, hold up, *dies again*, this is going in the archives of my Transformers notes document. The same document that is already so long my notes app told me I exceeded the set length for all possible notes app attachments, please for the likes of all things good,, I need to sit. and then I need to read this again. And then I need to grab some paper, a pencil, a highlighter, some annotations, a blanket, some more pencils. And then I need to read this again. And then I need to sit. And then I need to READ THIS AGAIN.

“He did not need distractions”,, mmhm, yep,, absolutely no distractions necessary here right now,, in the middle of Decepticon headquarters 💀😏✨

“What, you scared or somethin’?”

- PFT HA! This phrasing is so genius because in his mind what Prowl is doing is painting him as someone with mental fortitude, someone without needs like ‘living’, but because Jazz phrases this like “wait,, you really can’t do it big man?” Suddenly [because of Prowls’s view of Jazz] his definition of mental fortitude makes a temporary shift to deal with Jazz’s request because he doesn’t want to be seen as somebody who can’t function on a standard that was issued by a fellow “Decepticon”

“Prowl’s optics flared”

- Ooooog yeah,, that hit home <33✨

“That’s all I need”

- YESSSS, that is all you need! Bro, I love the phrasing on this too because, 1. It implies that Jazz knows Prowl well enough to recognize that he can be changed,, 2. It recognizes that there is still a part of Prowl that isn’t attached to the figurative work machine,, [ it’s dormant, but there <33] and Jazz knows that all he really needs is a little time to find it, and drag it out [politely.. but quickly]

Context ✨ Next!?

[ffixiv-livmorgan]

livie: your honor im in love with her

[dasketcherz]

Whats your favorite Olivia headcanon ?

🐀

That she is the bestest girl ever (I would die for Livy I love her sm)

That her mousey ears are solar powered as an alternative source to recharge—and also that they can do airplane flapping its adorable af

Design take of her with a winding key cuz it makes her look like an actual lil mouse toy, its peak and its everything to me

That her eyes can light up so she's even a makeshift flashlight in the dark for Hugo

She gets a lil jealous whenever something or someone else diverts Hugo's full attention from her (hence her lowkey beefing with Varian when she starts noticin her bestie begin to be too invested of him)

That a puff of lil steam actually comes out from her snout when she's angy

She likes to grab and pick up things using her tail for funsies

Hugo's turtleneck is her favorite spot to reside and hide in

That she can make squeaky noises to respond back when spoken to, it's so freakin cuuuute

That she's still and remains forever as Hugo's favorite creation that he's proud of the most, as he should

[loviingpedri]

playboys don’t play - marc guiu

prompt: college parties are his thing, but soon you’re the life of his party.

warnings: cursing, drinking, suggestive content (not smut, but just some making out and physical touch), probably some cheesy stuff

credits to owners for all images.

just to clear things up, you weren’t a total loser in college. you loved going out with your friends. the only difference is, you knew how to maintain your grades. this semester has taken over your life very negatively. your friends never saw you anymore, and you only said 5 words to your roommate every single day.

there was only one solution. going out to a party. don’t get me wrong, therapy is very considerable as well. yet, parties are free and a nice stress reliever. your friends practically forced you out of your dorm. you loved going out, but never to places where the entire college is attending.

this party was a celebration to the college’s first soccer game this season, ending in a successful win. it was hosted by the one and only, marc guiu.

it was only his first year attending college. boy, did he gain a quick reputation. every single girl wanted him. during conversations before your classes, his name would start echoing. loud sounds of laughter and shrieks from people as he walked past. rumors flew about how many girls he’s been with, but nobody knew if they were true. constant talk in your friend group of bets on who gets to be the lucky girl he’s going to be with tonight.

you couldn’t lie to yourself. he was very attractive. he gave you sweet smiles across the class, maybe a few winks. in return, you gave him a ‘what the fuck’ face. you were in denial that you wanted him too.

“y/n is looking hella good today.” one of your girlfriends whistling as you put on your red lipstick.

“about time you took a break from your glasses. those contacts look really nice.”

overwhelmed with the compliments, you replied with a simple thank you. nothing like a tight and short black dress with gold jewelry.

arriving to the party, you and your friends were greeted with flashing lights. your friend group consisted a mix of girls. some popular, some casual, some nerdy. all that matters was a healthy friendship.

welcomed with shots being poured down your throat. you were still shocked at how beautiful the soccer teams ‘frat’ house was.

mingling in with the people, you couldn’t help but make eye contact with marc. his soft brown eyes looking at you and slowly noticing every detail of you.

“who are you staring at?” hector came up to him, causing the eye contact to break. you turned around to socialize with people and make more friends.

“nobody.” marc cleared his throat. trying to gain his normal thoughts, hector could see through his lies.

“you were staring at y/n, weren’t you.”

“no. i wasn’t. what are you talking about.” he shook his head repeatedly. marc had feelings for you ever since he laid eyes on you. he hated when rumors came around about him with other girls because the only person he wanted to be with, was you.

“marc, it’s time for you to tell her. im sure you don’t want any other guy on her, right?” as hector said the last sentence, he pointed at you talking to another guy who was obviously flirting with you.

“maybe i will. don’t worry about it.” marc walked away to get a drink as hector shrugged him off. nothing like getting him riled up just so he can be more direct towards you.

more games came around. such as beer pong, and your favorite, spin the bottle.

people sat in a circle with an empty beer bottle in the middle. first few spins landed on some of your friends.

“maria, truth or dare?” your friend, livy asked her.

“truth.” some people shouted boring, but the game was just getting started.

“is it true you hooked up with tyler?” sounds of ooo’s and gasps were heard. rumors flew around here, and this was the perfect time to get them straight.

“it is true.” maria laughed it off. the secret was finally out. considering maria was your roommate, you knew all the details of that night.

“alright, next.” livy’s boyfriend spun the bottle. slowly passing up marc, it landed on hector.

“truth or dare, hector?” hector gave a soft smirk. this man was always up for a challenge.

“dare.” it’s a tradition that the first dare of the night had to be the most memorable and the highlight of the party.

“i dare you to make out with kaitlyn.” damn, this game was getting hot. nothing like a time to rekindle high school sweethearts. especially when hector missed his ex girlfriend from his junior year. kaitlyn didn’t mind, she wanted him back just as bad.

hector stood up slowly and went up to her. both of them start making out, leading to many people trying to separate them after awhile.

“alright, next person.” hector spun the bottle. it made two laps and spun past you twice. it slowed down and pointed directly at marc.

“marc, my best friend, truth or dare.” hector patted him on his back.

“dare.” marc’s soft smile made you smile.

“i want you to spend 7 minutes in heaven with the next person it lands on.” all the girls made eye contact with each other. some of them were determined to have the bottle land on them.

“deal.” marc spun the bottle as fast as he could. slowly and slowly, the bottle landed on you. hector gave him a nice smile and a few laughs. you slowly stood up as marc was looking at you in disbelief.

“get up marc. you know you want to.” you were scared. you doubted anything was gonna happen since this would be the first interaction between the two, but this was definitely not how you saw yourself for the next 7 minutes. everyone followed you and him upstairs to his room. hector opened his closet door. luckily it was clean. "have fun." hector closed the door and now you were alone with marc. with the only light coming from his room through the little cracks of his door.

the next 2 minutes were just in silence as both of you sat on the ground. it was awkward, and you wanted to try and talk to him. yet, he looked terrified.

soon, he spoke, "i'm sorry y/n. i didn't wanna make my reaction look like that."

"you're fine. i thought you hated me for a second." trying to ease the tension, marc knew it was time to listen to hector's advice.

“no, i don’t hate you. it’s actually the opposite. i know this sounds weird, but i actually have a crush on you.” this was the first time someone ever confessed to you directly. maybe the first time someone even confessed. you were in pure shock trying to process what he just said.

“i thought you had a girlfriend.” marc sighed, knowing you were gonna bring up the rumors.

“i swear i’ve never dated anyone. you’re the only one i have feelings for. i know you’ve heard and think i got with almost every girl here, but i can promise you i didn’t. y/n, i’m being so serious to you. i’m not the playboy you think i am.”

you moved your body closer to him as he looked at you. he waited patiently for a response. “that’s actually pretty sweet of you to say. i’m not gonna lie to you either, but i think you’re attractive too. it’s just, i think we need to take some time to get to know each other.”

“that’s understandable. i’m just glad you got where i was coming from.” you made eye contact with him again. this time, you were closer to his face and you could see his eyes glisten at you. you looked at his lips, then his eyes.

one second led to another, you were now fully making out with him. you were straddled over his lap as your tongues continued to dance. his left hand placed on your ass, and his right traveling around your body. you kissed his jawline, then to his neck. he wanted his full attention on your lips though. he was holding your cheek as the night became needy.

unexpectedly, the door opened. you got off of marc and stood up to fix your dress.

“i see someone had fun.” hector winked at marc as he helped him stood up. walking outside, everyone was shocked. you looked at marc in confusion, only to notice your red lipstick was all over his lips, neck, and jaw. marc looked at you, and did not expect to see your lipstick smudged.

everyone left the room as marc wiped off some of your lipstick, and gave you one last kiss.

[thetomorrowshow]

febuwhump 17 - power instability

EMPIRES SUPERPOWERS AU IS BACK

title: vision, visage, gentile, genteel

fandom: empires smp

this is the first chapter of the esh au sequel. it's back babey

~

It began, as many things do, with a bang.

Nobody knew what it meant. There were people outside, getting ready to head to work, who jumped and cursed and spun around. The noise was considered by some, likely, a firework, or a gunshot, or perhaps some new super on the scene. Perhaps a car malfunctioning, or a tire popping. Whatever it was, it was none of most people's concern, and after a moment of fright, those unsuspecting souls continued on with their days and forgot that it had even happened.

When looked back on, there was no way to know that it was the beginning of the end.

The end of Major, Primary Protector of Empires City.

Or, not the end, exactly.

But with Xornoth dead, and most other villains minor enough to be more of a nuisance than anything (and some, like Mythics, often more friendly with the heroes than with the villains), the city had settled into complacency. The defeat of Xornoth by three very powerful heroes, Major, the Mad King, and the Ocean Queen—and the disappearance of another dangerous super, Solidarity—had led many to believe that the city was going to be safe for quite some time going forward. After all, those three heroes (and the other heroes of the city, such as the Wizard Gem and Pearl) had no plans to leave, and any challengers of their authority were quickly dispatched.

And the end started with a bang.

Or, more precisely, the end started in a small house on a quiet street on the East Side of Empires City, early in the morning, as the once-feared Solidarity whistled a little tune while scrambling eggs, and the Primary Protector of the city stretched his muscles and smiled fondly at his partner.

-

"Eggs are done!" Jimmy, once known as Solidarity, declares as he clicks off the stove.

Scott, also known as Major, Primary Protector of Empires City, finishes the final stretch of his routine before groaning his way to his feet and padding into the kitchen.

"I'm getting too old for this," grumbles Scott, who isn't even thirty, as he pulls a couple of plates out of the cabinet. "Why'd I choose to be a superhero? I could've been an architect, Jimmy. Instead of getting ready to save the world, I could be designing buildings to replace the ones that Mythics destroys."

"Yeah, right," Jimmy scoffs, scooping some eggs onto the plates. "Gays can't do math, there's no way you would've been able to design buildings."

"I literally passed my senior trig class with a C, thank you very much, and Cs get degrees."

Jimmy laughs, handing Scott the plates. Scott sets them down on the counter beside the toaster, into which he slots four pieces of toast.

It's domestic and warm in the kitchen—the stove has just been clicked off, still radiating a gentle heat, which is nice when there's ice in the air and snow on the ground.

Not that Scott minds either of those things. Despite his complaints, he's eager to patrol today. He always feels more energetic when surrounded by the make of his power. And maybe he feels a bit more . . . in control, he supposes. Bigger. More powerful. Almost like he can command the skies—a thought best left for his dreams, far beyond the reach of his power as it is.

It’s a lovely day. Crisp and cold, warm and homey, and Scott can’t fight a smile as he moves toward the table and clicks on the overhead light.

"Nope—" Jimmy cries out behind him, and Scott turns just in time to see the oven window shatter, pieces of tinted glass scattering across the kitchen tiles.

"Sorry, sorry, burned my finger on the stove," Jimmy explains, holding said finger in his other hand. "Took me by surprise, sorry."

"Hand under cold water," Scott instructs, pointing to the sink. As Jimmy hurries over, he continues, "and what's another oven window? Don't cut yourself on the glass, honey, let me get you your shoes—"

Scott heads back into the living room, kicking his yoga mat aside, to find Jimmy's velcro tennis shoes sticking out from under the couch. They have a tray for shoes by the front door, but Jimmy, for some reason, just leaves his shoes strewn about the living room carpet.

"Think the landlord is going to get concerned? This is, like, the fifth oven door we need replaced," Jimmy calls from the kitchen. Scott laughs.

"Well, if you'd stop burning yourself, we wouldn't need five oven doors, would we?"

"At least one of those times I cut my finger, so I'm not sure that the burning is the problem," Jimmy jokes back. "And remember when we had to replace the whole oven because you froze it and it broke? That's arguably worse."

"We really should have been kicked out by now," Scott comments as he reenters the kitchen, shoes in hand.

"Good thing you're rich."

"Good thing you're a gold digger."

The toast pops at the exact same time as Jimmy turns off the sink. Scott hands him his shoes, then steps around him to wash his hands before getting the toast.

"Have you got work today?" Scott asks. Jimmy shakes his head.

"Nah, it's still not doing well," he says. "Jerry has us working fewer hours, trying to make ends meet. He's hoping for a bit of a boom in business with this weather."

"I guess we'll see," Scott says. He sets the plates down on the table with the butter, one right in front of where Jimmy is sitting in his chair, strapping on his shoes, and the other in front of the chair beside it. He sits there, scraping a bit of butter across his toast before tossing back his antidepressants with a bit of water.

Jimmy does the same when he's done with his shoes, then spreads jam onto his toast before loading it up with eggs and shoving it into his mouth. Scott makes a pointed expression of disgust before resolutely ignoring the sin before him.

He's got an hour before his patrol shift properly begins, so that's probably enough time to sweep up the kitchen or wash the dishes. Not that either of those activities take him an hour to complete, but who can blame him for wanting to head out early? He's just itching to get out in the cold, in what is literally his element. It's the first snow of the season, and he's expected to stay inside?

Jimmy, as always, notices. He lays his free hand on Scott's knee (his touch always so gentle) and gives him a smile somehow made cuter by the crumbs on his lips. "You can head out early, if you want. I can—"

BANG!

The whole house rattles. Jimmy's hand tightens on Scott's knee, and for a second Scott feels a hum of power thrum through the air—more intense in his partner than in anyone else that he's ever known—before there's a high-pitched whining and all the lights in the house shut down, the refrigerator's hum whirring to a stop.

They sit there, for a moment, in silence, Jimmy's hand still on Scott's knee, the aftershocks of his power still pulsing from him.

Scott forgets, sometimes, that Jimmy has such magnitudes of power, that he isn't just shattered oven doors and broken dishes. That without even lifting a finger, Jimmy could collapse a building or take the life right out of a person's body.

Then he'll get a wake-up call like this, a reminder that Scott isn't the only (or even the most) dangerous person in the house.

Scott glances over to the microwave to check—never mind, the microwave is dead, no green numbers lit up to tell the time.

The time isn't really important, though.

What on earth could've caused that sound?

Scott's first thought is a gunshot, and he knows Jimmy's is too, by the apprehensive shine of fear in his eyes that Scott can see even through the darkness of their house. A gunshot that loud would have to have come from nearby, of course. . . .

Quickly, quietly, Scott steals to his feet and creeps to the front window in the living room, peering out carefully without disturbing the blinds.

Nothing. No signs of trouble, no screams, no bodies in the street. Just various neighbors poking their heads out their doors, looking around and calling greetings to each other.

Through the window (Scott had cracked it open while stretching to let in the frosty breeze), Scott hears one of them faintly call.

"Did you lot lose power, too?"

Scott grimaces. Jimmy's not going to like that. Sure, Scott can keep their fridge and freezer going until the power gets back on, and Jimmy can bundle up until then, but everyone else is without electricity while their freezers melt and there's nothing they can do about it. As far as he can tell, none of the houses along the street have power—and if the whole street is down, that means the neighborhood is too.

Unfortunately, it is Jimmy's fault, and he's going to want to do what he can to fix it.

Which, as far as Scott can tell, is nothing. So maybe he can just not tell him about it. Maybe he won't notice that the entire grid is out.

"All clear," Scott calls back to the dining room. "Any idea what that was?"

Silence from the dining room. After a moment, Jimmy calls, voice shaking,

"Sorry. Um, no."

Scott frowns. "Jimmy? You okay?"

Another moment of silence, followed by a shuddering sigh. "Yeah," Jimmy says unconvincingly. "I'm good."

Scott pulls the window shut, blinds clanking against the glass, then returns to the dining table.

Jimmy's still sitting where he left him, hands clenched around his trouser legs. He's staring resolutely at a spot on the table, eyes just the slightest bit wet.

"Jimmy? Baby?" Scott tries, sitting down beside him and taking his hand. Jimmy looks over at him, face pale, eyes resolute.

"I'm good," Jimmy says again, squeezing his hand. "Thank you."

He's not good, that's easy to see. But he's okay, and some days, that's all Scott can ask for.

It's been over two years since Xornoth was killed, and Jimmy will never be entirely better. He'll likely always need his hip brace or cane, he'll always need his medication, he'll always have trauma responses. But Scott isn't ever going to judge him for any of it.

That's who Jimmy is. And Scott loves him for it.

And as he sits there, holding Jimmy's left hand, he finds his mind wandering to where it so often does as he gazes at the fourth finger on Jimmy's hand.

Scott doesn't even have a ring yet, so he pushes the thought out of his mind with a little reluctance. First he has to discuss the idea of marriage with Jimmy, then he has to follow up with Lizzie, and then he has to subtly get Jimmy's ring size. . . .

Well. Baby steps, and all that.

They finish eating like that, Jimmy leaning just slightly into Scott's shoulder. Right as they finish, the refrigerator starts humming and the lights flick back on, suddenly enough that Scott has to blink a couple of times to clear the floating clouds of color in front of his vision. The various clocks in the kitchen appliances flash a bright 12:00.

"Power's back," Scott says, less as an actual observation and more as just something to say, and gets up to carry their dishes to the sink, skirting around the glass on the floor. "Okay for me to head out?"

"Yeah, I've got Norman. Don't worry about me," Jimmy says, standing as well. He retrieves the broom from where it leans in the corner of the kitchen. "Speaking of Norman, I'd better get this glass cleaned up before he runs his little feet through it. Have a good day at work!"

"I'll save the world as usual," says Scott. He kisses Jimmy on his way by (Jimmy hums contentedly, all signs of his prior distress gone but for a wrinkle between his eyebrows), grabs his backpack at the door, and heads out into the frigid air of the first snow of the season.

Where the loud noise originated from is not far from where Scott exits his home, just two streets away. Not that he even thinks to go over there, instead heading for the main section of the city, assuming it would be at the hub of most activity. That's where most unidentified sounds originate from, after all.

And as Scott's day continues, he forgets about the sound, just as most others do.

Two streets away from Major's house, popular villain Mythics flees, eyes wild and breath gasping, a swirling portal crackling behind him.

-

It's possibly the best day of the year so far, weather-wise. The snow is actively falling, the streets are sparkling with ice, and Scott has never felt better.

Well, he's probably felt better. It snows every winter, after all.

But it feels so good after summer to finally return to what he is. This is the stuff Scott's made of, this is what gives him life.

It's glorious.

Scott lets out a little whoop as he slides part-way up the side of a building, the ice that already frosts its windows spreading spontaneously to the walls to give him the slipperiness he needs.

The people love it, too. Lizzie takes particular delight in sending him video compilations of his greatest tricks and most impressive fights, and the comments are always full of adoration for his skills and admiration of his power and creations.

So maybe, as he skates down a frozen sidewalk of his own creation (which he unfreezes behind him, because he knows not everyone has the skill to navigate such a path and would probably prefer a normal sidewalk), he adds a couple of flourishes to his act.

There's a group of kids at recess by Empires North Elementary School, and Scott stops to start a snowball fight before continuing on, frosting the windows of every classroom with beautiful little fractals.

He signs his name in frost as intricately as possible on the hood of someone's car, gives them a cheery wave when they run out of the store to take a picture.

He makes tiny snowmen to line the bus stop with just a couple of waves of his hand, then can't stop laughing when a little girl at the stop with her father cheers for 'Elsa'.

Maybe all of the villains of the city took one look out their windows and decided no, thank you, because there’s zero disturbances all morning. Scott doesn’t mind. He doesn’t think he could ever get bored in weather like this.

By the time it hits lunchtime, Scott's cheeks are red from the wind and hurt from smiling. He slides into a small deli and picks out a sandwich and a drink, the latter of which freezes over in his hands quite nicely.

"Major!" the deliman (and owner of the deli, if his nametag is true) exclaims, adding lettuce to his sandwich. "Keeping us all safe?"

"As best I can," Scott smiles. "How are you doing, Felix?"

Felix, the owner, chuckles, going a bit red in the face. "Never better, Major. You can have this free, all right?"

Scott chuckles as well, setting the drink on the counter and digging out his wallet. "I want to pay, don't even worry about it."

"No, no, nothing for you!"

"Come on, Felix, I'm—"

BANG!

Scott follows his first instinct—protection. Within milliseconds, there's an ice wall surrounding Felix, and another one shoots up in front of the large deli windows and door. It's instant, and Scott's never moved so fast in his life but the ice is there and time itself seems to freeze.

Everything is still for a timeless moment, snowflakes slowly swirling around Scott's masked face.

And somehow, he's the ice that lines the streets and the pipes below that travel all the way through the city and the icicles hanging from every roof and the frost paving windshields, and Scott knows that something has gone very wrong.

He's never felt this powerful in his life—nor this overwhelmed. There's so much stimulus, so many far away nerves jangling and he can't focus on the snowflake in front of him when he can see every fractal of it—

"Major!"

With a herculean effort, Scott manages to pull himself back into his body from where the tendrils of his mind have reached all the way across the city. He blinks, looks around.

The entire deli is frozen over.

Two customers are frantically trying to scrape some ice off the shelves, another is kicking at ice on the door, and Felix—

Scott can't even see Felix, a thick wall of ice surrounding him.

Scott panics. He can’t help it—his breathing quickens, his mind races, he starts feeling distantly dizzy at the idea that he might've hurt people, he might've broken something—and he notices, as his frozen fingers shake, that the frost is growing with every moment, slowly spreading to the floor and up the walls.

He hasn't been this out of control since—since he was a teenager, since before he was trained, even, since before he was a hero—

He can fix this. He knows how to fix it. Scott shuts the panic and fear out of his head as best he can and thinks back to his early days of training, back to when Aeor had taught him how to properly channel his emotions for incidents like this.

He hasn't had to consciously control himself in years.

He's never felt like this before.

He takes a slow, deep breath, letting the frenetic energy travel from his brain and heart and out through his finger tips, where frost grows into icicles. Then, with all the control and might that he can muster, Scott pulls, reeling it all back with a steady grip.

Slower than he would've liked, the ice and frost recede, all pulled back into thin air bit by bit. Scott breathes with it, in and out, until the ice walls crack and slide apart and the frost is entirely gone.

He breathes, and with it, his mind begins to settle. He’s all right. Everything’s all right.

Each of the other customers thanks Scott, casting glances both confused and a little fearful in his direction. Felix, luckily, is fine, if a little shocked. Scott subtly slides more than triple the worth of the sandwich into his hand, apologizes for the disruption, and heads out, slightly soggy lunch under his arm.

And again, he can't find the source of such a loud sound—because he remembers, suddenly, that the reason he'd headed out from his house so early this morning wasn't to see the snow, but to find the source of that first sound.

There's almost nobody out on the street, no gun or powered individual or blown transformer that could've caused it. In fact, the only other people outside are people who have stepped out of offices and shops to look around.

Scott gives them a cheery wave when they turn to him, one woman shouting a question in Spanish. "Nothing to worry about," he calls, assuming she'd asked about the sound. "Have a good one!"

"Hey, Major!" a young man waves. "How's your day been?"

"It’s been great!" Scott smiles his best winning smile. "Gotta go—heard about something on the other side of town!"

He didn't hear about anything, and he usually feels pretty good about talking to citizens, but he does feel kind of awkward standing in front of a place he just froze, like a guilty child fleeing the scene of a mess. And he doesn't even have a dog to blame it on.

What had even happened back there?

Scott had—he'd been scared. He'd thrown up normal protections, in case someone was trying to shoot up the deli and had somehow missed the bright blue superhero standing there, and then—

Then he'd felt so much.

Scott's not entirely sure what happened—one moment he'd been fine, totally in control of himself and his actions, and the next he was frost crunching under a pedestrian's foot and an icicle dripping from a gutter and the tiniest snowflake blown about by the wind.

It was nothing like he'd ever felt before.

It was terrifying.

It was exhilarating.

It was—oh, look, there's Joel!

"King!"

Scott spots Joel from across the intersection that he's currently sliding through, and pulls up a ridge of ice to give himself a sharp turn. He slides up to where Joel is leaning against the walk sign pole, waiting to cross the road.

Joel nods to him, eyes looking somewhat preoccupied behind his mask. "Hey, Major. When's your shift end?"

Scott shrugs, pulling his sandwich from where it's tucked under his arm. He ought to eat it sooner rather than later. "Dunno. I was hoping to stay out all day, if possible."

Joel raises a brow. "In the doghouse?"

"Of course not, the weather's just nice."

Joel chuckles. "Yeah, I'd guess so. You and Jimmy never fight, do you?"

"Well, do you and Lizzie?" asks Scott.

"Nope," Joel says proudly. "That's why we got married. We never fight."

Which is a lie, of course. Just last week, when he and Jimmy went over to Lizzie and Joel's apartment for dinner, Lizzie had thrown rolls at Joel all evening and Joel had implied some rather unkind things about her pet rabbit.

Scott doesn't bother calling him out on the lie. Joel's right about one thing—he and Jimmy almost never fight, and when they do, they resolve it quickly and schedule a couple's therapy appointment to make sure there are no lingering issues.

They're perfect for each other.

And once again, Scott's mind turns to the rather pleasant idea of a gold band around Jimmy's finger.

"You two really ought to tie the knot soon," Joel says casually, and Scott can't help but sputter.

"I—were you reading my mind?" he accuses.

"No?" Joel says, voice turning from confused to gleeful in that one syllable. "I—ooooh! You're thinking about it, that means it's practically official! So—are you thinking something big, whole city invited, those nice ice sculpture things like in movies—"

"Sorry, Major? Mad King? Can we get a picture?"

Joel shuts up—thankfully, otherwise Scott would've frozen his tongue in his mouth—and gestures for the two women to stand between him and Scott.

Scott smiles into the phone, and can't help but notice that there's frost on his own cheeks.

That's . . . that's a little odd. He isn't usually radiating cold, not unless he's angry. Maybe it's the high spirits he's in from the weather. That explains it, doesn't it?

Still, when the women leave, Scott scrubs at his face, hoping to warm his cheeks up enough that none of his frigidity can find a home there.

"Yeah, noticed you looked a little chillier than normal," Joel comments. "All good?"

Well, he did sort of lose control during some strange out of body experience earlier. But that's kind of embarrassing, and it was a one-off, so Scott doesn't mention it. He doesn't need Joel to tease him about it, nor tell every hero who'll listen.

He just nods, shrugs, and takes a bite of his sandwich.

-

Jimmy's alone in the house when it happens again, curled up on the couch with his blanket over his shoulders and his LinkedIn profile pulled up on his phone.

He doesn't really know what happens.

All he knows is that there's a loud noise and he doesn’t do well with loud noises, but luckily he manages to keep a hold on his powers this time.

Or, he thinks he does.

Because in the same moment as the BANG, Jimmy feels so much.

And it feels good.