#see this is why I usually go with pit madness

[ghost-bxrd]

Just saw artwork of Jason doing the heads in a duffle bag thing and—-

I’m sorry but there’s just something so visceral and horrifying about a teenager sawing heads off people in a display for power.

Were they bad people? Yes. Did they deserve it? Probably. Did it send a message? Absolutely. Is it still horrifying? Heck yeah.

Just—- knowing Jason and his background, it’s just so heartrendingly tragic. I don’t even think he liked doing it, I’m just imagining him having to throw up afterwards before putting his helmet back on and playing tough crime lord again. The amount of self loathing he must feel whenever he thinks too hard about his actions. Falling asleep and seeing that—

Just— emotional repercussions, man. They’re real…

[evieelyzabethh]

"lacy"

⭒"i see you everywhere, the sweetest torture one could bear"⭒ Arcane characters when jealous {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞ slight angst but they all have a happy ending, kissing, and the usual stuff (slightly pervy Jayce)

♞Vi♞

♞Making Vi jealous is a terrible game. She is about that action and absolutely loves to fight, nothing beats that flow of adrenaline as she chases someone down to bash their face in. I feel like she would also get a bit mean. Jealousy is a nasty thing, it bites, and she bites back harder. The pit it creates in her stomach tries to swallow her whole and sometimes she wants to bring you down with her

♞She doesn't understand why you would want or need the attention of anyone else when you have her. Chiefly at the beginning of your relationship, it would cause a rift, intention or not. Vi doesn't have a proper education, she’s constantly guilt ridden about her childhood and her sister, she's broke, and an absolute hot mess. She's already constantly questioning why you're with her in the first place and the last thing she needs is some random coming up and flirting with you and you even bothering to dignify their presence with a response.

♞She would go dead silent, brushing you off for what feels like weeks, stewing in her increasingly negative thoughts. She doesn't even think you're cheating, but she feels like it's only a moment of time before you realize there's something better out there. Always the one to make the wrong decision, she pushes you away for a bit. She's very short with you, brushing off your attempts to make peace, playing a mean game to see if you're gonna give up on her so she can use it against you. This is definitely her biggest red flag.

It's dark and rainy out, rain pelting at the ground, seeping and sliding into its cracks to rehydrate the already soft foundation. It was supposed to be a calm night out at the Last Drop involving a few drinks to get Vi out of her current terrible mood, bookended by an unstable walk home as you both barely support each other under your weight and constant fit of giggles. Instead, Vi was a few paces ahead of you, hands shoved into her pockets, her head down rather than putting her hood up to keep her head dry from the rain. Every time you approach her, she slightly leans away. At first you thought it was an accident, maybe she was trying to avoid stepping on a rock or into a puddle, but after the umpteenth time it happens, the message becomes clear. She's avoiding you. As argumentative as she is, you may even be worse. "What the fuck is your, problem?", you bark, the alcohol in your veins curving the embarrassment of passersby clearly tuning into the argument they think is about to break out. "You've said some choice things and have been awfully rude these past few days, and I really don't appreciate it, Violet." But she doesn't have it in her to make a big scene. It's definitely the alcohol, because she's genuinely scared that if she starts a screaming match with you right now, she'll cry. She turns to you swiftly, hair dripping wet, stray dye rolling down her cheeks and down the slope of her nose. You had just dyed it together a few days ago, back before she decided to be mad at you for who knows what reason. "Look at me", she grabs your chin before you even get the chance to break eye contact with her. Petty, pissed, and unable to jerk your face out of her grip without giving yourself whiplash, you close your eyes. This pisses her off even more. "What, you don't have any more charity work left in you? You can giggle with what-his-face for hours, but you can't even look at your girlfriend?" That gets you to open your eyes, at first confused as to what the hell she was talking about then glittering with amusement that causes her to immediately let go and continue her fast paced walk back home. She isn't far enough to escape your light voice, cheery with the realization that you finally broke her down and occupied with what you think is the silliest thing in the world. "Oh, my gods, you're jealous about that guy from last night! Vi, you're so ridiculous, I don't even remember his name." And she is still teeming with anger, but that anger will dissipate soon after that last admission. Once you sober up, you don't find it as funny, but she's at your every beck and call trying to convince you it won't happen again.

♞After a little while together, she feels more stable in the relationship. Trust, she still gets jealous, but it usually looks like a smirk on her face before she pulls you into a heated kiss in front of whoever is bothering her. She makes a real show of it too, prying open your mouth to slip her tongue inside, her hands squeezing your sides and hiking up your dress, knee pressed firmly in between your legs. She continues long after the person leaves, before shrugging and sarcastically wondering where they possibly could've gone off to. You often scold her for this. You've never been to jail, and you'd hate to go for a public indecency charge.

★Ekko★

★Ekko doesn't really get jealous, like out of everyone I think he would get the least jealous so most of this section would be about his complete lack of jealousy. He doesn't believe in getting into relationships without trust first and it's because of this confident trust that he wouldn't get jealous. If anything, he wouldn't be jealous as in feeling like your relationship was in danger but jealous when it comes to your time. Like he would get slightly pouty if he felt like you were spending too much time with your friends, and it was significantly cutting out of your time together. Even then, he wouldn't really act on it.

★Ekko would be a "I don't care what my girlfriend wears, I can fight" kinda guy. Especially because he likes picking out your outfits, he does it with the intention of showing off the goods. He likes looking at you, he knows the world likes looking at you, he sees it as doing a favor to society. He is the first to tell you your tits look scrumptious in that top.

★Same concept with you being approached or flirted with. If they have the gall to do it in his direct presence, he has a great many words to say about it, but if he's watching it go down, he likes to watch it happen. He'll get involved as soon as he gets the feeling you are uncomfortable, but for the most part he sits amused a few feet away laughing at the glances you give him as the conversation goes on.

★I feel like if anyone was to get jealous, it would be you. Ekko spends a lot of time with a lot of different people which leaves space for certain people to not know that he's spoken for. I think he would be less aware of this than you. You are always at the forefront of his mind; he cannot fathom giving his attention to other people. Especially because he talks about you so often, he makes it quite clear that he is not single and when people choose to ignore that fact, he doesn't notice.

Warm light flitters into your shared room through half open blinds that reveal the orange and yellow that the blue sky had faded into. Ekko had just gotten home eager to strip down into some old, tattered tee shirt and some boxer shirts. Instead, he was met with a slightly agitated girlfriend, and he notices this immediately. He gives you space at first, greeting you at the door and asking you how you were and listening to your expectedly short answer. He only lasts a few minutes of this passive aggression before sliding beside you on the couch, sliding his arm around you and pulling you in close. You reluctantly lean in, trying to ignore how inviting he smells and how warm he feels. "Baby," he draws out, scooping you completely into his arms to straddling your thighs over his waist, his large palms remaining on your upper thigh. He's trying to whittle down your resolve and it is working. "Don't you wanna tell me what's wrong?" You rolled your eyes. "I've already told you what's wrong." He thinks it's cute that you're jealous. He likes the way your arms cross over your puffed chest, and you furrow your brow to try and appear serious but all you look like to him is a rabbit about to thump its foot. "And I have already told you, I am completely yours." It's cheesy and he knows it and he amps it up by scattering kiss all over your face, even as you try to evade his touch. "I don't doubt that, it's just..." He derails your sentences as his kisses move lower and his hands get more adventurous, exploring your upper thigh and the curve of your ass and the small of your back from underneath your shirt. "Hey!", you snap, "I'm being serious, Ekko." He pauses, withdrawing his hands to the fat of your hips and, reluctantly, his lips from your neck. "I'm listening, baby." "I've told you I don't know how many times that I do not like that girl. She is all over you." His mouth opens to try and protest, but you cut him off. "I can literally smell her perfume on you." He gets slightly defensive at this. "You don't think I'm cheating on you, do you?" A look of hurt flashes across his eyes. "Of course, I don't, Ekko. I'm not questioning you; I'm questioning her. I know she knows we're together and she just doesn't care, and you don't shut it down. Why else do you think she kept you out this late? What were you two doing?" Nothing. A whole lot of nothing, actually. The girl you were referring to, Thalara, had been a topic of conversation before. She was new to the commune, which landed her the benefit of the doubt with you, but it's been months now and she still hasn't laid off. Ekko, ever trusting of his people, never assumed malintent, but you saw right through her. You cup his head in between your hands, looking him in his eyes to make sure that the message is clear. "I love you, and I'm not mad at you, but she's pissing me off. You need to make it very clear that she needs to leave you alone or I will send the message for you." And you meant that. He makes it very clear to her the next day that he has absolutely no interest and comes back to you the next day beaming in accomplishment.

★Jealous you turns him on so incredibly much. Whatever you say goes, he is not one to turn you down when you're in a jealous mood.

❂Jayce❂

❂I feel like you would both get jealous, but he would get far more jealous than you do. While he is far from someone who would tell you to change what you're wearing, he does try and tag along with you when you're wearing something low cut. Like babe, what do you mean you don't want him to join girls night? Are you sure you're not cold?? You must be cold; your ass is hanging out, why won't you take his jacket?? Please take his jacket!!! Because of this he walks behind you, making it much harder for those undeserving to stare at you like he does.

❂While he loves showing you off at fancy events, ain't shit funny if you look too good. If you're lucky enough to make it out the house on time (he insists on helping you zip up but then gets confused which way zippers go), being there is a struggle. He likes staring at you and did not have the forethought to think other people would enjoy staring at you too. Let someone make a comment too, he is glued to your hip for the rest of the night.

He waits anxiously for the stupid gala to be over. Had he been more of a drinker, he would've been content to have a few glasses of the fancy champagne they brought around, but he hates the ethanol aftertaste it leaves behind and that is the last thing he needed after already feeling nauseous. He was trying so hard for you, he knew he had to give you your space, and he knew you were excited to go out to his Hextech showcase to show your support. He's being bitter and he hates it, he hates biting his tongue while watching you giggle with a councilman and the fact that he feels like a petulant child watching some other kid play with his toy He's been getting better with his jealousy, honest! That's why he's self-aware enough to know that his urge to go after you, sling you over his shoulder, and carry you home himself is childsh and silly and that you would chastise him over it as he looked at you like a kicked puppy. Gods, this was stupid. But he puts a smile on his face anyway, making his way over to you from the balcony he was just standing on, and sliding his hand on your shoulder. You look over at him, startled for a second, but relax when you see his amber eyes and slightly gapped smile. And then you say the magic words. "Oh, I was just about to go looking for you. Are you ready to go?" He cannot say yes fast enough. After he has you all to himself, he is insatiable, kissing you deeply as soon as you step foot in the carriage taking you home, losing balance and nearly sending you both toppling onto the floor of the moving vehicle. The seats are awkward and not long enough to properly lay you down, but he's too desperate to care about the discomfort, his hand cradling the back of your neck to make sure you are as comfortable as you can be. He's ruthless, the force of his kisses knocking the breath out of you and you can never catch up. You're almost dizzy, his desperate whispers nearly going through one ear and out the other. "You love me, right? Me and only me? You don't need anyone else.", and he's trying to find your zipper again, but his hands are clumsy and cold, and it only serves to arch your back further into him, not that he's complaining. When you do come to your senses, you giggle, running your nails through his hair as he looks up at you with wide eyes. "How long have you been holding that in." He looks at you sheepishly, fighting the urge to hide his embarrassment in the crook of your neck. "All night." You shake your head at his ridiculousness, pulling him in for a slower kiss, properly savoring the moment, before pulled away to peck his nose. "You are the only one for me, handsome, I don't know how many times I have to say it." He shrugs his broad shoulders. "A few more times wouldn't hurt." You roll your eyes and ask if he wants a collar, and he does not look as adverse as you expected.

❂He is so incredibly unhinged when it comes to jealousy. He doesn't act on it, but his mind goes to wild places. In a modern AU, if you dare not reply to a text in ten minutes he's asking, "What position he got you in?" Even worse, he knows he's being senseless, it's his way of asking for reassurance in a joking way. It's so absurd, you don't take him seriously which slightly frustrates him because he wants you to reaffirm him on what he already knows.

❂He gets really pouty when jealous too. He'll usually try and thrust himself into his work to occupy his mind and get it back to a rational place. Viktor calls you immediately because he ends up talking to him about it and he thinks the entire ordeal is unreasonable and doesn't have time to be asked at the ass crack of dawn "I know she loves me, but what if (insert insane scenario here)." He is a chronic overthinker and sometimes you just have to shut his brain off.

☽Viktor☾

☽Viktor is another one who doesn't get super jealous, but when he does, it usually stems from insecurities surrounding his leg. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes, especially as his condition gets worse, he gets frustrated that he can't do the things as easy as he used to be able to. However, he is entirely too proud to admit it or act on it. You probably wouldn't even notice, to be honest, and he wouldn't want you to.

☽I think he would absolutely throw himself into work when jealous. He's already at the lab damn near day and night, but unlike usual when he'll try for conversation here and there and be more lively, he's throwing himself into it out of necessity. It is one of his pride and joys, when his ego takes a hit, work is his refuge. This, of course, hardly ever works because he does not get good work done when it's being forced. He'll usually end up staring at the photo he keeps of you at your desk and feel lonely.

☽He'll invite you around to his lab more, though he is uncharacteristically stiff and rigid. He's trying too hard to focus but he just can't. His leg is tapping furiously beneath the table, he's biting the inside of his cheek, his hand is running through his hair every couple minutes. Things just aren't computing like how he wants them to and he hates it. His pride is a double-edged sword here, jealously is Jayce's thing. He thinks he is leagues above it and he gets frustrated with himself when he feels that green sickness in his heart.

☽He would be the type to address it head on. Once again, he's very analytical. He will tell you what exactly got him upset, why exactly it upset him, be very clear that he isn't blaming or upset at you, and silently hope you go overboard with affection for the next few weeks for the sake of his ego. After he does, he likes to ignore it even happened. Him? Jealous? You must have him confused with another ridiculously attractive, impaired, Czech-accented man. Jealous isn't even in his very extensive vocabulary, he has no idea when or why you dreamed of this completely fictitious scenario. He wouldn't try and gaslight you that it never happened, but he is petty enough to get selective hearing when it comes to mentions of it

For the first time since...ever, Viktor is home before the sun goes down. To say it catches you off guard is an understatement, so unused to the doorknob jiggling before the wee hours of the morning, you had a knife in your hand before you heard his keys in the door. You had been making dinner, and the smell alone makes his heart skip a beat. He hardly ever gets a warm dinner and for a minute, he deeply regrets being in his lab all the time. He slides off his shoes and loosens his tie as he pads over to you in the kitchen, wrapping one hand around your waist and the other gripping the counter for support. "You're home early.", you chirp, turning around to face him to peck his lips. "I was just making dinner, you want a taste?" Though he would never say no to that, you already have the spoon to his lips with a hand under to catch anything that might fall before he can even answer. He indulges, of course, and as the warm liquid soothes his throat, he hates that lab even more. Soup is one thing; but warm soup is to die for. "It's delicious, tchotchke." You smile as you turn back around. "Any reason you're home so early." He looks back the new ceiling fan you called Jayce over to put up and lets out a sardonic chuckle. He understands why you called him; he'd need to get on a ladder to put it up and have to abandon his cane for however long it took to hold the thing up and take care of the wiring. He wouldn't be able to balance himself and if he came down, the fan was coming down with him, probably on top of him. And yet, he still would've rather done it himself than you call Jayce to do it. "Yes, but it's admittedly a very stupid reason." You cannot fathom this. You remove the pot from the stove and onto a folded cloth on your counter and desert the stove. "Did something happen?" And he can't handle the look of concern on your face over something he knows to be trivial. "It's just that..." when he realizes he can't put it off any longer, he sighs. "I got jealous of Jayce." Had it not been for the serious look on your face, you would've burst into laughter. Those words had never fallen out of his mouth in that order before. "I know it's absurd, but it started when he put the fan up and it bothered me more than it should. I don't like that there are some things I can't do around the house, and it's been this way my whole life, but it's different with him. He's just always "the guy" and I hate the thought of him being "the guy" to you. It's irrational and a leap in logic, I know, but I hate it." And even better than pity, you just smile at him. In a way it's better that you want to laugh at him, he wants to laugh at him too. The thought of Jayce replacing him is maybe even more of an impossibility for you than it is for him. "So, next time I should just call a guy." He chuckles. "Yes, please."

☼Mel☼

☼I feel like she would be very calm about her jealousy, but also have a slight inclination to anger, albeit a silent one. She doesn't fear the betrayal of a potential cheating, but rather the embarrassment. If she were to see you get too chummy with someone, rather than approach you, she would watch from afar to see what you'd do. This is also a big reason why she usually doesn't take action herself; you never disappoint her when it comes to letting people know you're taken.

☼She is a bit clingier when jealous, but more than that she would insist on doing more couple things together. If she feels it is not known enough, she will make it known that the two of you are together. This often means gifts like expensive jewelry that only she could afford you, a new outfit that conveniently matches with one of hers, or even just letting you borrow bags or earrings of hers. It's her way of scenting you almost. She's too classy to try and "stake her claim" in a more showy way, so she does it in a more inconspicuous way.

Waking up alone wasn't something you were completely unused to. Mel was a very busy woman, and you were content with the nights you had together and rare mornings. These mornings were made extra bearable when you woke to a box on your nightstand, wrapped in a silk ribbon with a note in your girlfriend's handwriting slipped under the bow. 'From my heart, to my darling', it read, a lipstick mark beneath where she had signed her name with an elegant flick of her wrist. Perhaps just as eager to be opened as you were to open it, the ribbon fell loose as you gently picked up the box. It was too small to be a dress and too large to be a ring but large enough to contain maybe a fancy watch or a necklace, but judging by her unusually clingy demeanor last night, you had a feeling you could pretty accurately guess what was inside the ornate jewelry box. Unsurprisingly, within it lay a gold and pearl necklace, pearls that must’ve been rare due to their black hue rather than their usually pale pearlescent coloring.  The chain felt light in your hand, the heaviest part sinking into your palm as you stared at. Your first initial and an M. No matter which way it was taken, the M to be her first name or her last, the possessive message was clear, not that you minded. Mels smile was bright when she saw you for the first time that day, and even brighter when she saw what decorated your neck. She excused herself from the councilmember she was talking to before walking over to you, practically gliding on air. She takes your hand, kissing the inside of your wrist then your knuckles then pulls you by your hand into her. "I take it you're enjoying your gift?" Your hand still in hers, she spins you, taking you in at all angles for the first time that day. "It's beautiful, but I can't help but wonder what inspired the decision." She knows you know exactly how she works, and she doesn't mind admitting she's jealous. "Am I wrong to give my pretty girl a gift?", she says, mocking the comment you received last night. She rolls her eyes and her face gives away her impending rant. "Am I wrong to give a pretty girl a compliment? I still can't believe he said that to you last night. He only did it to piss me off, you know." You bite your lip to hide your laughter, but it eventually slips from you. "I hope I'm more entertaining than Salo was last night." She can't even feign annoyance, not with the sound of your laughter filling her ears and her name around your neck. She laughs herself, with how much the two of you talk shit about the man, you'd think anything he did could never affect her, but she had been biting her tongue since last night. "Shall I list to you all the ways you're better than Salo?" She waves the idea off nonchalantly. "No, my darling, I should hope I never need an ego boost that desperately."

☼You would definitely get jealous far more often than she does. She's gorgeous, smart, well spoken, rich and affluent, and perfection embodied in a person, there is much to be jealous of. Especially as someone who is on the council where part of the job is being great at sweet talk, I feel like you would get your feelings hurt sometimes. You catch more flies with honey, and she may be the sweetest honey there is. She does tease you for your jealousy though, she finds it utterly adorable.

☼She wouldn't allow you to be jealous long. She is very good at reading you and your emotions, she seems to always know exactly how you're feeling. You couldn't even hide it from her if you tried, she'll always find a way to corner you and help you talk your feelings through. She tries very hard to make sure that you can never question who she loves the most.  

[littledovesnow]

a growing family

request(s): Reader and Coriolanus have a little fight, and Reader blurts out she's pregnant. AND corio when you tell him you’re pregnant? maybe even him going to the doctor with you?? I love ur fics <3

word count: 2.1k

content warnings: pregnancy, little angst (like a smidgen of it, you gotta squint to see it), little bit of mean coriolanus

You stared at the calendar that was pinned to the corkboard, heart hammering in your chest so bad you could hear it.

“No, no, no.” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair, getting stuck in a few tangles.

Not wanting to face your husband when he got home, you grabbed your purse and headed down the grand staircase and out of the apartment, walking over the Corso’s small grass area and up to the Snow’s apartment.

Knocking on the door, you looked at your chipped nail polish until the door flung open, Tigris appearing on the other side.

She had a wide smile on her face, but it fell as soon as she saw your expression. “What’s wrong?” She asked, pulling you into the apartment.

You looked down the hall to see if the Grandma’am was home. “You have to promise not to tell your cousin.”

Tigris’ eyes grew, and she looked you up and down. “What? Why? What are you-”

“I’m late.”

It took a moment before Tigris’ head snapped up, eyes meeting your own. “You- have you gone to a doctor yet?”

Shaking your head, you let out a tearful laugh. “Are you kidding? As soon as anyone sees me walking into an obstetrician’s office, they’ll run to the Capitol News fast as lightning. I want to tell Coriolanus myself; I don’t want him to find out from the paper.”

Tigris frowned. “How late are you?”

“A couple weeks. I lost track of time, and I was stressed so I assumed it was just late. But then I was taking a shower and the smell of my body wash made me want to throw up. And- oh my God, my boobs hurt so bad.”

Tigris laughed, sending you an apologetic look. “You’ll need to tell Coryo soon. I think he wants to go out to some of the Districts and do some press soon.”

It was true, Coriolanus had brought the idea up the other night at dinner, wanting to start gathering a following for the upcoming election now that President Ravenstill had announced he would be stepping down due to his poor health.

Nodding, you toyed with the loose hem of your jacket, tears coming to your eyes again. “I know, I’m going to. I just don’t want him to get mad. We’ve always talked about starting a family once he’s more established in the field.”

Tigris said your name softly, grabbing your hands. “I know Coryo, and I know he won’t get upset. Maybe if you keep this a secret any longer he’ll get a little disgruntled, but he won’t be mad.”

You appreciated the older Snow more than you thought you would, giving her a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Tigris.”

-----

Coriolanus closed the door to the apartment, letting out a sigh as he tried to keep his work and home life separate.

He called your name, walking into the kitchen with the bottle of wine he wanted to surprise you with.

Entering the kitchen, he frowned when he didn’t see you where you were usually humming to something on the radio, looking in the fridge or preparing dinner. As much as he offered to hire an Avox to cook and prepare meals, you declined it; stating you liked being able to make whatever you were hungry for.

“Love?” He called, setting the wine down and moving down the hall to the bedroom, worry growing in the pit of his stomach when you weren’t on the chaise with a book in your hand, as you sometimes were when he worked a little later than usual.

He heard a shuffle in the bathroom, behind the closed door.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked, opening the door slowly, stepping in when he saw you sitting against the tub, hair pulled back crudely.

“Hi, Coryo.” You threw him a smile, though it looked more like a grimace given your current situation.

Kneeling down, Coriolanus moved some of the hair that was still growing out from the bangs, frown on his face. “What’s wrong, why didn’t you send for me? Dr. Gaul would’ve let me leave. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”

You leaned into Coriolanus’ hand, small groan coming out of your mouth. “Didn’t want to bother you. It’ll pass in a few minutes.”

“And how are you so certain about that?” Coriolanus mused, rubbing your back as you leaned over the porcelain bowl once more.

Once you were sure you were done, you slowly rose, Coriolanus with a careful grasp on your hip to keep you upright.

“Because,” you took a swig of the water glass you had poured earlier, spitting into the sink basin. “I felt like this yesterday, too.”

Coriolanus’ hand moved to your forehead, feeling for a fever. “You don’t feel feverish. Perhaps it’s that new jam you’ve put on your toast this morning. Did you have it yesterday, too?”

Looking at him in the mirror’s reflection, you simply nodded, even though you did not. “Yeah, probably just a bad batch.”

Coriolanus helped you to the bed, hand moving along your jaw in admiration. “Why don’t you rest, I’m sure I can scrounge up some soup.”

You nodded, watching your husband’s retreating figure as he disappeared down the hall.

Once you were sure he was out of earshot, you leaned your head against the wall, one hand going to rub on your not-yet-visible bump. “You’ve gotta give me time to tell him.”

-----

It had been two days since Coriolanus found you on the bathroom floor, and he continued to believe that you simply had a small bout of food poisoning, none the wiser to the true reason you were ill only a few times.

Currently, you were sitting next to him, across from the Plinths, who insisted on weekly dinners at their apartment, only a few floors below you and Coriolanus.

An Avox went around pouring wine, pausing when you held a hand over your glass. “None for me, thank you.”

Ma Plinth looked between you and the bottle of wine. “It’s your favorite?”

Smiling, you were going to explain when Coriolanus spoke up for you, comforting hand on your thigh.

“She’s been a little ill the last few days, some food poisoning.”

Not believing it for a second, the older woman simply nodded, letting the Avox pour her another round.

“Coriolanus,” Strabo Plinth spoke up, leaning forward to talk business. “Have you given any thought about visiting the Districts? It would do you well to stop in before you officially start campaigning.”

Though only Capitol residents were eligible to vote in the upcoming election, many candidates made sure to stop into a majority of the Districts to show they aren’t afraid of the rebels, that they can control them if need be.

Coriolanus nodded, setting down his utensils. “I am, yes. Dr. Gaul and I had been talking about a good time for me to take a short leave. It looks like I’ll be able to go in few months, plenty of time before the campaigning will start.”

You mulled over the sentence for a moment, telling yourself now was as good a time as any. “If you go then, I won’t be able to go with you.”

Three sets of eyes focused on you, varying degrees of confusion swimming in all of them. “Why? It will be autumn, perfect season for photography of Panem’s future leading couple.”

Coriolanus quickly thought over any important dates in your family, none that arose during the time you two would be on the train. “It’ll only be a few weeks; we’ll be back in time for your sister’s birthday.”

You smiled at the blonde, looking at Strabo Plinth as he spoke up.

“A man can’t properly campaign without his wife there, how will the Capitol view you as a First Lady if you’re not by his side?”

“Yes, and perhaps seeing a united front will help lessen the threat of another rebellion.” Coriolanus nodded, clinking his glass of whiskey with his late classmate’s father.

Mrs. Plinth, eyes narrowing, seemed to figure out what the men did not. “Honey, why don’t we save this conversation for a better-suited time? I’m sure I can talk to Ravenstill and get him to set up a meeting time between the three of you.”

Strabo Plinth and Coriolanus both seemed content with that, shifting subjects to something you weren’t interested in.

You sent a grateful look to the woman across from you, who simply nodded in return.

-----

“I don’t understand why you don’t want to go visit the Districts with me.” Coriolanus snapped, fingers hastily undoing the tie he despised wearing.

“Coryo, I do want to go with you. It’s just that time won’t be good.” You carefully removed the numerous hairpins from their position at the nape of your neck.

The blonde man grumbled, pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers. “If we go any sooner or later it’ll be a bad time for my campaigning! Too soon, the news will have moved on to something else, like- like Flickerman’s new parrot!”

You rolled your eyes, struggling to unzip the dress you wore. “Can you-”

“Go any later and it’ll impede the speeches and galas and events I need to be in the Capitol for!” Coriolanus’ voice raised, and you paused to look at him, hand still trying to grab the zipper.

“Coryo.”

Coriolanus threw a hand up, face growing red from anger. “Do you even want me to become President?! To be able to give you all you want, to never have to worry about money, food, anything?”

You were at your wit’s end, hand finally falling from your back. “I do, Coriolanus! I do want you to be the president. But if you travel to the Districts at that time I can’t go with you because I’ll be too pregnant to go with you!”

There was a silence so loud you didn’t dare breathe. “What?” Coriolanus whispered, eyes meeting yours. “Pregnant?”

Nodding, you were once again trying to unzip the dress, huffing as you gave up for good. “Yes, and I had a special dinner planned but you just had to go and ruin it.”

Coriolanus silently moved behind you, carefully unzipping the dress and letting you use his hands for balance as you stepped out of the skirt. “You didn’t have food poisoning, did you?”

Shaking your head, you felt your eyes water. “No.”

You must have looked like a fool, standing there in your undergarments, husband behind you with his dress trousers and socks still on.

“I’m sorry for yelling. I- I’m sure we can still visit the Districts before the election, just a more abbreviated tour than planned.”

You laughed, a watery, light laugh. It was music to Coriolanus’ ears. “Whatever you want, Mr. President.”

-----

Your knee was bouncing rapidly, the only telltale sign of your anxiety.

Coriolanus had gone forth and scheduled an appointment with the Capitol’s best obstetrician, going to far as to personally thank them for agreeing to see you at such an early time. He also laid out the threat that if anything were to happen to you during the pregnancy that could have been stopped, the obstetrician would never see their family again, but that wasn’t for you to worry about.

“Love, you don’t need to be nervous. I’ll be with you.” Coriolanus mumbled, hand moving from behind your chair to your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the side.

“I know, I just- this is our first child, Coryo.” You looked up at him. “I can’t help but be nervous.”

Coriolanus smiled, pressing his lips to your temple. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

The nurse came out and escorted you two back to the exam room, instructing you to pull your shirt up as she squirted gel onto your stomach.

You and Coriolanus watched her every move, anxiety sky-rocketing as she frowned at the screen.

“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus asked, hand gripping your own.

“I just- let me get the doctor to confirm, give me one moment.” She didn’t look back as she left the room, leaving you and Coirolanus to soak in an anxiety-filled silence.

Only a few moments passed before the nurse returned, doctor in tow, and she also moved the wand around. “Ah, yes. You are correct.”

“What?” You asked, eyes flitting between the medical professionals and the back of the computer.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Snow. You’re having twins.”

-----

a/n: send requests here

[chuulyssa]

jealous monster trio + law and ace x reader

a/n. not proofread!! i wrote this on my phone in the middle of watching a movie ong. idk why there aren't many dialogues in ace and law's part, but im lowkey pleased with how everything turned out

tags. fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship

crack tags. sanji gets a nosebleed (again), sanji tries to steal you away, sanji (that's it, that's the warning), marco bepo and robin are the best matchmakers, nami robs someone 😴

luffy wasn't the type to be overly possessive about the things he liked. growing up with two brothers, he had learned to share all mundane things in his life; his clothes, his blanket, even his toothbrush.

but not you.

luffy didn't understand the feeling that was developing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you working out with zoro in the crow's nest. it was nice to stay healthy, right? that was what he had thought when he saw you reject his offer to play board games with him. he watched you walk away and up to the crow's nest where the swordsman practically lived, and sulkily climbed his special seat on the head of the sunny.

"oi, luffy! come down," usopp called out from the deck, and he glanced at the latter. "robin's telling us another story of the ancient civilizations of the west blue!"

"i'm not in the mood," luffy shouted back, still gazing wistfully at you.

he watched your face contort into one of pain when you moved to do the crunches, and zoro laughed at you before showing you how to breathe in the position as you lifted yourself back up.

"are you sure? i think you're just hungry!" usopp called again. "robin said we can have some of the special pancakes sanji made for her."

luffy stared back at his friend, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought hard. soon after, he yelled back, "i'll come down, give me one second!"

as you got back up from the crunch you were performing, you saw a long arm on the glass wall of the room and nearly screamed. luffy accidentally slammed his face into the wall, his cheeks comically enlarged as he spoke something incoherent to you. zoro rolled his eyes from beside you.

"i think he's saying break time is over. you've gotta go deal with him now."

.

zoro was rather secure in your relationship. he didn't mind it when other people commented about how nice you are, or about how pretty you look. he let it all slide, seeing as he knew all of the comments were true, and you deserved to know that. so he wasn't one to get mad when such things happened.

except when it came to the idiot cook.

it had been almost fifteen minutes past your usual time and you still hadn't shown up. zoro had gritted his teeth in the middle of a set and set out to find you. it didn't take him long, however, to figure out what was keeping you.

"my dear y/n, you must listened to this acoustic poem i have written in your name," the cook had one of your hands in his, blocking your way up to the crow's nest.

"i'm sure it's lovely, sanji, but i'm in a hurry right now--"

"ah, where, i wonder, must i look to find another beauty such as yourself--?"

"oi, cook! buzz off, will ya? no one wants you around," zoro's voice came from upstairs, and you turned to look at him.

the cook glared at him from behind you, but immediately pouted wistfully when you turned back at him. "don't say that, 'ro," you scolded, and the cook's face lit up at your words, eyes gleaming at the sight of zoro's annoyed look.

"i said what i said," zoro walked downstairs, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers when he reached you. "buzz off, prince of the perverts."

.

sanji is a little bit of an idiot. insecurity runs in his veins, and thus so does jealousy. you would have felt bad for him too, had he not been making you feel the same way since day one.

his face streamed with tears as he followed you around the marketplace. a few minutes earlier, you had caught him shooting to the sky with a nosebleed because of some poor woman's smile. he had landed right at your feet, the sight momentarily disarming you before you kicked his frame out of the way to walk.

it had been about half a minute of you ignoring him and he was on his hands and knees, begging for you to spare a glance at him. you would have felt bad, had this not been the fiftieth time in a week. you instead chose to turn to usopp, who had grown to learn to ignore sanji and his antics around women ever since they first met at the baratie. sanji's ears turned a bright red at your movement, and he clinged even harder at you

the two of you silently agreed to not wait for nami while she was busy robbing civilized people in a restaurant, and sped up at the looks the passersby were giving sanji, who was practically hanging onto your waist right now.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, angel, i know that's not gonna cut it but i beg for your humble forgiveness, i will not ever-"

"how do you deal with this moron?" usopp whispered to you, and you whispered back an "i don't know".

sanji kept mumbling things into your hips and pressing soft kisses into your waist, until you gave in when chopper hurried up to where you were, polaroids of your smile hanging around his neck; your boyfriend was just in rehab!

.

ace didn't think you looked half as good with anyone else but him. that is another way to say, he couldn't stand anyone who was within a certain radius from you. he wouldn't talk about it at all, and whenever you would bring it up he would play dumb.

but he hated it; not in a you're-mine-and-belong-to-me way but more in a im-just-a-boy-who-needs-external-validation-to-exist kinda way.

so he didn't like the way you were the only 'daughter' in whitebeard's crew among all the 'sons' who spoke about you like you were a trophy. he didn't like how you were placed under marco's division and not his. he didn't like how both whitebeard and marco laughed at him whenever they caught him looking at you.

after a particularly rough mission, the first division was having a blast with all the treasure they had managed to get back. ace looked at you with a longing pout on his face, about ten feet away from you. you were laughing with thatch at the moment, and he was busy fantasizing about how you would react if he carried you into your shared room on his shoulder, kissed the back of your nape and sucked hickeys to spell his name on your neck--

marco slapped the back of his head and his face fell into his plate with a loud crash.

"thank me later," marco said, eyes unwavering as the man in front of him fell asleep face-first into a plate full of food.

he went away as ace woke up shortly after, his face covered in curry, with men laughing at and mimicking him, but among all of them, his ears only heard the sound of your laughter before you quickly got up to hand him tissues.

.

law did not care. or at least, he pretended not to. after all, it had taken multiple tantrums from bepo to get him to confess to you, and even then he had made it clear he was not a fan of whatever you might have thought to be an 'ideal, loving relationship'.

that was, until today, when you had learned just how far you had to push his buttons to transform him into a romantic man. you could feel law's gaze on you as you laughed at whatever dumb thing luffy had just said, but when you turned around, he was busy conversing with robin about who knows what. once again, you turned to luffy, felt weird, turned back and saw nothing. for every minute you talked to the straw hat about something, you could feel law breathing down your neck, albeit in a subtle manner that no one but you seemed to catch.

"law," you finally came up to him, and he looked up at you as if he hadn't for ages. "is something wrong?"

"what makes you think so?" he challenged, and you could feel robin chuckle next to him. after shooting her a perplexed look, you shrugged and walked back to where the group was having fun, staying a bit closer to chopper this time, for luffy's safety.

it wasn't until the two of you had retreated back to your shared room for the night that you had realised what you felt had not been a hoax. law was on you the moment you lay next to him on the bed, nuzzling up to you and pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

you were confused, to say the least, but you had a faint suspicion that this strange side of law was the idea of a certain archaeologist.

[lilyarchived]

too late [john price]

a/n: I wasn't originally gonna write anything yet because I still feel absolute dogshit, but this post by @gloomyyangel was too yummy to ignore.  I don’t really like this but what else can I do? Write some more? (gunshots)

warnings: smut after keep reading! (go away minors), swearing, hurt NO comfort, fem reader, mean!price at the start, 1.7k words oops, Lowkey abrupt ending.

summary: you let price imagine you as his ex wife because it will hurt even more to let him go, but what happens if he finally tries to make it up to you?

“F-fuuuck..” your husband groans. “Feels,, sso good, angie..” The sound of another woman’s name should be enough to make you feel bad, be enraged, scream at him, go apeshit crazy, right? Your whimpers of pleasure say so otherwise. It has been like this for years, you’ve come to terms that your husband, Captain John Price, will always see you as his ex wife. At some point you feel bad for yourself, you wouldn’t have let this shit slide. Hell, you wouldn’t even settle for a rich, handsome man all because he told you women should just stay quiet. The bitch slap you gave that man before storming out the restaurant stays engraved in the back of your mind, good days. 

But now? Now you’re settling for a man to imagine as if you’re his ex? Since when did your standards fall down to the deepest pit in the ocean? “ ‘m close, fuck, so tight for me.” You didn’t know whether to feel flustered or disgusted at the praise, knowing damn well he’s talking to angie in his mind. You gasp as your orgasm suddenly takes over your whole body, basking in that sweet, sweet pleasure. Hey, he can be a dick husband and still make you cum, nothing wrong with that. He follows suit after a few more thrusts, his hands beside your head grasping at the satin sheets. His moans ring through your ear until he finally plops down beside you.

You don’t expect him to clean up. At Least not like he used to. You get up to clean yourself before going back in the room with a warm and wet washcloth. You clean your husband up before noticing he’s already fast asleep. How did you ever get here? From your handsome Captain flattering you, taking you out on dates, treating you as if you are the sun keeping him warm, putting your pleasure first, and actually caring about you; to this man, ever so distant, calling you his ex wife’s name, never talking to you unless it’s work related or if he needs to let out some energy. And why the hell are you letting this happen? A man? Taking advantage of you? Making you some sort of sex doll?

You wish you could just be mad about it, scream and punch and cry, do anything to avenge your poor self. Yet you can’t. You love him too much, you love him like he painted the morning orange sky above, you love him like he hung up the moon and stars. You love him. Only Simon knows about his behaviour, you were a bit sceptical telling him everything since he always thought so highly of the captain, you feared he would take his side and tell you to get over yourself. You hadn’t expected him to pull you in a tight hug and whisper to you that you should leave him. You cried for the first time in a long time that night.

Snapping back to reality, you get dressed in your sleeping clothes and settle next to your sleeping husband. Staring into his shut eyes, wondering where you went wrong. You let your eyes droop to sleep, preparing your mind for another unbearable day tomorrow.

--

As months passed, you and John were still together, happy, no, but still married. You start to grow numb, never once batting an eyelash when he cums again after moaning “angie”. What an annoying sound in your ears it was. Don’t get me wrong, you still felt good whenever he decided to initiate something sexual with you. Your moans and whines fill the air alongside the sound of slapping skin. Simon gives you the usual disappointed look, but you honestly can’t tell if that’s his resting face or not. Then, everything changes.

“Darling, d’you wanna get food with me?” You freeze on the empty couch in the equally empty rec room. The sound of John’s voice making your heart skip a beat. He has never asked you to eat out with him, well ever since he normalised moaning a different name in bed. It’s like all his intimacy and chivalry left with your dignity. “Umm, I just had dinner Sergeant Garrick, Captain. I’m set for the night..” you reply after you peeked behind you, making sure he was talking to you. “At ease, I’m talking to you as my wife, [Y/N]” You let out a forced chuckle before going back to the book you were reading. “Why were you out with Kyle?” you hear him mutter. He can’t be serious. “..We were both free and hungry?” you reply in a meek voice. “I was free. Couldn’t even be bothered to ask your husband first?” 

The way your blood was boiling the moment that stupid sentence left his mouth. Why does he care? Does he think that he can moan a different woman’s name in bed and get away with it but you going out for dinner with a friend is all of a sudden, adultery? “You told me you’d be busy the whole day. Why is it a big deal I went out with Gaz? It’s not like I’ve been saying his name during sex.” You quickly shut your eyes, you didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. You prepared for his anger, instead you were met with a deep sigh. “I’ll let you be.” He says defeatedly, walking away from the scene. You see a confused Simon in the corner before squealing out of surprise. “How long have you been there, freak?” Simon only chuckles, “Tha’ don’t matter, Cap’n looks devastated. Ya think he’s been feeling guilty?” He sips on his black tea, you remove the hand clutching your shirt near the beat of your heart. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” You fall face down on the couch to scream, ignoring Simon’s deep voice laughing at your pain.

What you both didn’t know is that John has been feeling bad for how he’s been treating you. He would notice your soft giggles echoing the hallways as Johnny picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, at how pretty you look in casual clothes, how your hair flows during bar hopping nights with the team, how your face shines in the city lights. How your nose scrunches when you get teased by Simon for liking your coffee too sweet. How beautiful you sound when he’s feeling you up and down, your surprised gasps as he rubs your clit in circles, how sinfully angelic you look when you come undone. Fuck, he really messed up.

So he makes it up to you, he cuddles after ruining your guts, he cleans you up, he wakes up before you to cook you breakfast. He makes your coffee the way you like it, gets you flowers every now and then, kisses you more passionately rather than his usual rushed ones. He loves you tenderly but it all seems foreign, even though he used to do it for the first few years of your relationship, you had already forgotten how it feels like to be loved by this man.

You feel nauseated. How could he go back to the way things were, like he hasn’t been giving you the cold shoulder for months now? Why now? WHY now? Why NOW? You stay cautious, every sweet move he’s doing puts you on edge. You knock on your Lieutenant’s door before he tells you to “come in” with that same ol’ gruff voice. As the night rolls in, you’ve already told him everything Price was doing, how he kept acting lovingly without addressing the past few months. He tells you you have two options: to confront him, or to go along with it. Neither of it seems appealing to you but deep down, you know he’s right. 

You thank Simon for the advice leaving his room to confront your husband tonight. The minute you walk into John’s room, his face lights up and asks you if you’ve eaten.  You scoff as you tell him you need to talk. “Why are you doing this to me, John?” you finally speak up after staring into the same eyes you fell for. His face drops, eyebrows furrowing, “What do you mean by that, dove?” A sigh escapes your soft lips, “Don’t call me that, John. Don’t act as if you weren’t just calling me, imagining me as your ex wife during our most intimate times. Don’t act like you haven’t been ignoring me, acting as if I didn't exist ‘til you needed work done or if you needed to have a shag.” You let out, tears staining your cheeks. John reaches out to wipe them but you move his hand away. “I mean, was it all a joke to you? Did I mean nothing but a body for you to imagine as if you were still together with her?” John finally talks, “You know it’s not like that, [Y/N]-” 

“Then what, John? What is it like? God, you- you” hyperventilating now, you search for the right words to come out. “You changed me. Acting like nothing’s wrong and being all sweet won’t work on me. I gave up on whatever our relationship was a long time ago.” His breath hitches, “Baby, please-” “I should go.” you cut him off. “Please, I’ll do better, we can start over?” he pleads, grabbing your arm. “It’s not that easy, John.” “Loving you is easy. I love you like it’s breathing. Please. You mean the world to me. I can’t let you go knowing i fucked up everything.” He sounds desperate now.

“I love you, John. But I don’t think I can ever love you like I used to.” He looks up to you, bloodshot eyes as tears pour over his face. You reach over to wipe them away. He leans into your touch. “Don’t give up on me, please?” You give him one last broken smile, “We’re way past not giving up, my love.” 

---

taglist for the people in the original post's comments LMAO (lmk if u want me to untag muheheh): @blackhawkfanatic@tf141gloryhole@montenegroisr@princesslikesfanfics@hoelesss

[devonpink]

A Thanksgiving Story

Arrogant, ignorant, and stupid, no three words could better describe my dad. I didn't always see him like that, though. Growing up, we were best buds—I admired and looked up to him as a role model. I truly felt like I could tell him anything, I could trust him. So, you could imagine my shock when after coming out as gay to him, he turned on me. He ignited into a homophobic rage, disowning me as his son. He couldn't stand the sight of me. The unpleasant feeling was mutual and I moved out as quickly as possible.

For almost a decade, there was nothing but radio silence between us. Until one day, I randomly got an email from him, inviting me to a one-on-one Thanksgiving. I read it over and over, completely stunned. As mad and hurt as I still felt, I knew I'd regret not accepting his olive branch. So, I accepted.

A few days later, in the early afternoon of Thanksgiving, I drove over to my dad's place, my childhood home. As nervous as I was, driving up the old driveway and parking in my old spot felt good. As I stepped out of my car, I was reminded of how sweltering it was for November, even for Florida. As much as dressing up sounded fun, wearing a white tank top, dark tan loose shorts, and flip-flops only made sense. My balls would have melted in a pair of underwear, so I freeballed.

My heart was racing, as I flip-flopped to the front door. I was expecting the worst but hoping for the best. I could smell the turkey cooking through the front door as I knocked, its mouth-watering scent calming me slightly. A few seconds later, my dad opened the door. Unsurprisingly, he was exactly as I had left him: bulky beyond belief, obviously my leaving had no effect on his serious workout routine. Then again, maybe he exercised to escape the pain, I know I did that. He was wearing nearly the same thing, the only difference being his loose shorts were black. His pit stains were just as bad as mine—like father, like son, I guess. To my relief, his nervous expression pleasantly told me he was just as anxious as I was.

Stepping inside, I got a good whiff of him as I passed him, that oh-so-familiar scent of cologne failing to mask the intense pit reek. The house, like my father's manly stench, was exactly how I'd remembered it, nothing had changed—it was nice. As my dad led me to the kitchen, with his back to me, I gave my hairy sweaty pits a sniff. They reeked, even worse than my dad's. Unlike him, I'd forgotten to put on deodorant or cologne. We both stunk, in slightly different ways, but that similarity was comforting—like father, like son.

I was expecting things to be insanely awkward, but it was like the good old days. We sat out on the porch, drinking beer and shooting the shit as we waited for the turkey to finish cooking on the barbecue. I forgot how much I loved talking with him, for an arrogant douch bag, he sure could make me laugh. Neither of us had brought up my leaving yet, I assume to not break the good flow we had going. In truth, I didn't want to bring it up. It felt good to pretend everything was as it was in the old days.

When the turkey was done, we brought it inside and gobbled it down like too starving beasts. Obviously, our nerves had calmed down quite a bit. Everything was fantastic, I forgot how good of a cook my dad is. We didn't say much to each other while eating, too distracted by our hunger to converse—like father, like son. Before we dove into dessert, he offered me another beer. As much as the pumpkin pie was calling my name, I couldn't decline.

Instead of the usual beer we were drinking, he brought a brand I'd never seen before, "Obedience." I didn't question why he only brought out a single can, I was too distracted by the pumpkin pie to care. I cracked it open and swigged it down, anxious to get to the pie. However, after I finished, I felt funny. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I felt different. I silently stared at my dad, watching an evil grin form across his face.

My dad spoke, dropping his nice-guy demeanor. "Now listen up, boy. It's time we finally get to the point of our happy reunion." My heart was racing, I knew something terrible was about to happen. Flashbacks of before I left flooded my mind. Strangely, as much as I wanted to move, I couldn't. My body was frozen like it was waiting for something. "Take another swig of your beer, down every last drop." What happened next shocked me to my core, my body moved on its own! It was like I was a bystander in my own body, only able to watch. I robotically brought the can up to my mouth and downed every last drop, doing exactly what he commanded. At that moment, I horrifily knew exactly why it was called, "Obedience," and why he only brought out a single can of it.

"Belch, boy. Like a man." My dad arrogantly commanded, knowing I'd helplessly comply.

"bbbbbbBBBBUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPpppppppppp!!!" Just as he commanded, the biggest manliest belch came out of me. I hated how good it felt to obey him, an obvious effect of the beer.

"Belch again, boy. Except this time, additionally, let out all that stress and worry. Also, uncross your legs and manspread! Sit like a man!" He commanded.

I wanted to resist but was helpless to his commands. "bbbbBBBBBBBuuuUUUUUUrrrPPPPPPPPPpppppp!!!" Like he commanded, all stress and worry had left my body. I then uncrossed my legs and manspreaded, just like my dad. Sitting that way felt so much better.

My dad laughed, like a cocky bastard. "Such a good and obedient son I have." I wanted to get up, scream, anything but just sit there. Except I couldn't move. No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't move. "Now, let's get to the good stuff," My dad excitedly proclaimed, unnerving me even more. "Let out all the useless liberalism! Become a rigid conservative, just like dear old dad! Like father, like son! Belch, boy!"

I tried as hard as I could to keep it down, but it was useless. "BBBBBBUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPpppppppp!!!! With that, all liberalism and open-mindedness had left me. My mind was assaulted and reprogrammed to believe all sorts of small-minded conservative ideas and beliefs. It was overwhelming, yet electrifying. With conservatism comes stupidity, so my mind had become completely moldable, exactly what he wanted.

"Real men vote red, don't they, boy?" My dad asked, every word dripping with superiority.

"Sir, yes, Sir! Real men Vote-BBBBBBBbbbuuurrrrPPPPPPPPpppp!!!" Before I could finish, another manly burp escaped from me, making my dad bust out laughing. I couldn't help but laugh too, being more stupider now. It felt good to make my dad laugh. I felt like… a good son.

"Now, before we continue, I want to make sure you have no remaining resistance. So, let it all out! Give yourself to me completely! Belch, boy!" My dad commanded.

"BbbbbuuuuuuuUUUUUURRRRPPPPppppppp!" I did as he commanded, like a good son. It felt good, right, to obey him. Why would I want to resist him? He's my dad! He made me, I must obey him!

My dad was grinning like a king, as he should. "Belch again, boy! Belch as loud as you can!"

"BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" I was more than happy to obey.

"Fuck yeah, son! You sound just like your old man!" My dad enthusiastically congratulated me.

Having him praise me felt good, so fucking good. More, I wanted so much more!

My dad then got serious, obviously, this next one would be important. "Belch, boy, and erase all gayness from yourself. Become the straight man I've always wanted you to be! No man wants a faggot for a son! Blech, boy! Belch and become straight!!!"

"BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" Like a good son, I obeyed. "BBBBBBBBBBBBUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!" And just like that, all my gayness was gone. I'm now as straight as a freshly bought nail. I like women, only women, like a normal man. Who'd want to be fag, anyway? Fags are sick freaks!! Thank god I'm not one of them anymore. Thank god I'm straight, just like my dad! Like father, like son!

We celebrated my much-needed transformation over two massive slices of pumpkin pie. Afterward, we returned to the porch and smoked cigars, some of his finest. I feel so much better now that I'm following in my dad's footsteps. I want to be exactly like him, in every single way. I want to be completely interchangeable with him. He gave me a matching pair of sunglasses and a red cap, to protect me from the blistering sun. I obviously wore my cap backward to match him. I'm so thankful for my dad. Without him, I'd be lost.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Proud III

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Summary: The aftermath of the derby

The comments started coming in the moment you got home.

You were in a boot. Your ankle was very badly sprained. Not broken but anymore pressure on Morsa's tackle and it might have been snapped completely.

It wasn't your fault. You knew that but it didn't stop the comments from rolling in.

Some of them (very few of them) were wishing you well in your recovery. More of them were simply people retweeting the injury. But the overwhelming majority were downright nasty.

A lot of them said that you were milking the injury. A few more said you got what was coming to you. Even more said that you had goaded your mother into it.

Your feed was flooded with comments and then DMs, so much so that you had to turn off your notifications.

Your ankle still throbbed and you refused to take painkillers, sitting on a heap on the sofa with your phone opened on Twitter. You don't know why you were doing it. It was like watching a car crash. It was horrible and a bad feeling lodged in your chest but you just couldn't look away.

You kept scrolling through every nasty comment blaming you for your own injury as your ankle throbbed.

The foot door opened and you jumped in shock.

"I'm back!" Morsa yelled out more for Momma's benefit than your own.

"Hmm," Momma grunted from the kitchen, still intent on the silent treatment as Morsa fell next to you on the sofa.

"How's the ankle?"

You gave her a deadpan look. "Sprained."

Her smile fell. "Oh...right..." She looked around the room awkwardly, drumming her fingers on her knee. "Have we sorted out dinner?"

"We're ordering in," You replied. You don't look at her, you just keep staring at your phone. Your eyes pricked with her tears as you stared at the comments. The pain in your ankle lessened as it was replaced by a deep pit in your stomach and a stitch-like pain in your chest.

"Cool. Cool." Morsa let the silence ring for a moment before speaking again," How long do you think it'll take for her to talk to me again?"

"How long does it take for a sprained ankle to heal?"

"That long? I think I'm sleeping out here tonight."

"Hmm, yeah, maybe."

You didn't pay much attention to her as you scrolled through your feed. Your shoulders slumped as you began to clear out your DMs as quickly as you could without getting a glimpse of what was written there.

(It didn't work).

You made sure to keep your mouth shut as a few stray tears slipped down your cheeks. You tried to clear your throat quietly. It worked for the most part but you did see Morsa cutting her eyes towards you as Momma returned with a glass of water for you.

"What are you looking at?" Morsa asked as she tried to crane her neck to see.

You tilted your phone away. "Nothing," You insisted.

"It's not nothing," Morsa said firmly," You're crying. What are you watching?"

"Nothing! Can't you just leave me alone?!"

Your phone was snatched from your hand by Momma and she instantly started going through it. You surged to your feet, trying desperately to ignore the pain in your ankle.

"Give it back!"

"Sit! Back! Down!" Morsa's icy voice cut you straight to the bone and you slumped back down into your seat, allowing Morsa to raise your leg up to rest on the pillow stack Momma had set up the moment you got home.

"Why are you reading this utter shit?!" It wasn't often that you heard Momma swear but you knew she was usually mad when she did.

"Mom-"

"No!" She stood up. "I don't want to see you doing this again! You're not to read any more of this stuff! It's stupid and none of this is your fault. It's Magda's! And trust me, she'll get what's coming to her-"

Morsa looked like she wanted the sofa to swallow her whole.

"-But none of this is your fault. You're the one in the boot. You're the victim here!"

"Momma...I-"

"Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'yes, Momma, I am the victim' then I don't want to hear it!"

Your mouth snapped shut and you began to understand why Morsa tried to make herself invisible.

"Say it," Momma said.

"Mom-"

"Say. It."

You sighed and mumbled out," Yes, Momma, I am the victim."

Momma smiled. "Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. Now, first things first, Magda...You're sleeping on the sofa tonight. You're doing the dishes and the laundry. Understand?"

Morsa tried to hide her smile but you could see it peeking up on her lips. "Yes, Pernille."

"Good. Next, y/n, take some painkillers and you're not getting this back-" She wiggled your phone "-Until I can trust that you're not going to scroll through anymore hate comments."

You sighed. "Yes, Momma."

"Excellent. Now...What do we want for dinner?"

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

tdb boys taking care of pc as a cat? 🫢

Taking care of the purr-fect

After an accident in class the prefect turns in a cat for a day

Wc: 670

Note: I'm going to be honest, I just chose four off the top of my head jaja

Jin

He swears it's the one time he leaves his room for the week and somehow there is an intruder, a cute cat sleeping on his bed. He grabs you by the scruff and calls Thoma who hurriedly takes it from his hands and smooths its hair explaining the mess during class.

He rolls his eyes at the story of how the ghouls -surely vagastorm punks- asked you to help and you ended in the crossfire with a temporary shapeshifting potion, either way he grabs your back, now properly with a hand under your front paws and under your butt.

His family had a few cats, his dad allowed it if they were purebred as a status symbol, and his mom loved the fluffy things. Maybe that is why his usually soft spot turned softer.

Acting huffing and tsundere like lays down on the bed and lets you cuddle up to him, even covering you with his blankets without worrying much about hair sticking to it.

Every so often he texts things to Thoma ‘the cat is hungry, get them fish ‘jin, canned tuna isn't good for cats.’ ‘There's sushi tuna in the kitchen. Hurry’

The most spoiled cat for the day or so that you turned, ribbons as your collar so nobody mistakes you for a worker cat, cooked meat every meal, hair brushed every night -by thoma- and sleeping under many imported silk blankets.

Sho

There was a cat sleeping on Bonnie's seat and, somehow, she wasn't thrashing around for it to get out, quite opposite she seemed to be seeking out sunlight for you. It isn't until he gets closer and you wake up that he recognizes your eyes in the kitty's that he guessed it's you.

He is knocking down on Hyde's office asking about what happened to you and how long it's going to last, Hyde grabs you by the armpits and twists you around before throwing you back to Sho unworried and he guesstimates about a day or two.

He doesn't allow you inside his food truck because he respects food hygiene but you can sleep on the outside tables acting like a mascot, at first Subaru was quite open to touching you in this form until he saw your memories and figured it was you.

He now feeds two mouths, Bonnie and you, sorry Leo, your noodles will have to wait until he finishes the pulled pork bbq sandwich for Bonnie and your cat-friendly oil-free stir fry, die mad about it.

After one of the vagastorm students grabbed you to get you out of a spot on the couch and Sho dared him to meet him at the pit for that, after that nobody really touched you.

Yuri and Jiro

Some general students got called after the accident in class to check out the students who were well except a few scratches, they were called later when the students brought a cat claiming that it was the prefect.

Neither are very worried as it happened before but more interested in how similar your labwork would be to your human one so Yuri is drawing blood, doing ultrasounds to see if everything looks normal or similar to before (if you struggle to much because you are nervous or fear needles and try to scratch him he will make Jiro hold you as you claw at him. At least he doesn't hold it against you when you return to normal)

After that you can hang around mortkraken with a little note stuck on your fur saying ‘dr isami’s patient, do not feed’

Sorry if you like garlic, onions, chives or grapes, the same way they forbade chocolate for Lyca bc he is a wolf those foods aren't entering your mouth soon.

If Yuri is sitting down while writing or reading your test he allows you to lay on his lap and maybe he will rub your belly.

Jiro doesn't mind you climbing him so you can sit on his shoulders while he works and won't tell you anything. He asks teasingly if you wanted to be taller.

[alisonsfics]

back in chicago - part 3

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: after years in germany, you return to chicago and immediately run into your ex-boyfriend. if you thought it’d be easy jumping back into your old life, you were wrong. new people had entered carmy’s life, including a new woman, but you were still everything to him.

word count: 2.3k

part 1 / part 2 / part 4

“Carmy, what’re you doing here?” You asked, quickly wiping the tears of your cheeks.

“The umm…fight with Claire got worse. Can I crash here tonight?” He asked you. His stress was written all over his face. Carmy’s usual strategy was to avoid his problems. It was why he decided to break up when you got the job offer in Germany, rather than make long distance work.

“Carm…I really don’t know if that’s the best idea.” You said, cautiously. Until the kiss tonight, you hadn’t realized you were still hung up on Carmy. And it felt like he was still hung up on you. So, him crashing at your place while in a fight with his girlfriend didn’t seem like the best idea.

“Y/N,” he pleaded with you.

“Yes, Carm? You really don’t think you spending the night on your ex-girlfriend’s couch is going to make the fight with your girlfriend worse?” You reasoned with him.

Carmy sighed and looked down at the ground. He stuck his hands into his pockets, still refusing to look you in the eyes. “She kicked me out.” He admitted, softly. You could see how embarrassed he was.

“And I’m sure that was a test to see if you’d end up here. I can’t be the person you go to when you’re fighting with Claire. I’m your ex-girlfriend, Carmy.” You told him. Carmy ran his hand through his hair. He knew that everything you were saying was right.

“Can we please just talk?” He practically begged you. He finally looked at you, and you could see his desperation.

You sighed and then opened the door for Carmy to come in. He walked past you and sunk down onto the couch. He put his head in his hands.

You sat down in the armchair next to the couch, hesitantly keeping your distance after the kiss.

“I don’t know what’s fucking going on. I wasn’t expecting to see you today, and it’s really fucked me up. I mean, it was easy to say I was over you when you were four thousand miles away, but then you were right in front of me. And I don’t know if that means you’re just someone who will always be special to me or if I’m still…I don’t know, in love with you or something.” Carmy rambled.

“I know that this has been a lot to adjust to, but this isn’t fair to Claire. You can’t be in love with me. It can’t happen. You’re with her.” You told him. He swore under his breath.

“I know that this is fucked, but did you not feel anything tonight? That kiss didn’t mean anything to you?” He asked you. You pushed yourself to your feet and walked into the kitchen. You poured yourself a drink because you were far too sober to be having this conversation.

“C’mon, don’t just ignore me.” Carmy said, following after you.

“Don’t you understand that I can’t answer that, Carmy?” You asked him, exasperatedly. He closed the distance between the two of you. You backed up until your back bumped against the fridge. “Does that mean it meant something?” He asked you, softly.

You were holding back tears. “It was a fluke, Carmy. You were mad at Claire. And I was surprised to see you. That’s all.” You told him. You had a pit in your stomach, knowing you were in denial.

“What if it wasn’t? What if this wasn’t an accident? You coming back to Chicago and seeing me. What if this is what was supposed to happen?” He asked you, softly. You quickly shook your head, pushing him away from you. “You’re drunk, Carm. You need to go home. I’ll call you an Uber.” You told him.

He shook his head and grabbed your wrists. “What am I supposed to do?” He asked you, his voice breaking. After all these years, you still couldn’t stand seeing Carmy upset.

“You can sleep on my couch tonight, but you need to apologize to Claire tomorrow. I won’t let you mess up your relationship with her because of this. Carm, you and me are in the past. We have to let it stay there.” You told him.

You walked past him towards your bedroom. You grabbed a spare blanket and pillow and headed back towards the living room. You found Carmy sitting on the couch wiping tears off his cheeks.

He softly thanked you as you handed him the pillow and blanket. “Hey,” he called out and gently grabbed your hand. You turned back around to face him.

“I’m sorry for all this. I shouldn’t be putting you through this shit.” He apologized, sincerely. You smiled and nodded. You didn’t know what else you could say to Carmy to fix things. “Good night, Carmy,” you said, before leaving the room.

Neither one of you slept good that night.

When you woke up, you were dreading having to face Carmy. When you finally emerged from your bedroom, you found the blanket neatly folded on the couch with a note on top.

You recognized Carmy’s scribbled handwriting.

“Hey, I’m sorry about all the shit I said last night. I needed time to think and clear my head, and I shouldn’t have bothered you. Thanks for letting me stay over. I’ll see you at Richie’s party today, so I guess I’ll see you soon. - Carmy”

You felt your heart sink as you remembered about Richie’s party. Knowing that you’d have to face Carmy and Claire was eating you up inside.

You headed towards the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. You heard the front door squeak as it opened: Maria returning home from her night with Richie.

“Girl, I have so much to tell you.” She said, enthusiastically. You turned around to face her, trying to fake excitement. “Oh no. What happened with you? Is it Carmy?” She asked, instantly being able to read every emotion on your face.

You quickly shook your head, dismissing it. “We’ll get to my shit later. I want to hear all about your night first.” You told her.

You both made coffee and then sat together on the couch. She gave you the full debrief on how Richie had officially asked her out last night. He wanted it to be the real deal after they had refused to label their relationship the last time.

“Okay, so what about you? I know that face. I know something happened. Are you okay?” She asked, concerned. You held back your tears and shrugged. “Shit hit the fan last night,” you said, laughing at how messed up everything had gotten.

“You and Carmy seemed good though.” She said, having only seen the cute moments between you and Carmy at the club last night.

“I don’t know if you got looped in on this last night, but apparently Carmy is dating Claire. You remember from back in school? Yeah, so she got pissed at Carmy because I was back in town. She seemed pretty convinced that he wasn’t over me. So, I went upstairs to avoid all the drama. And then Carmy kissed me, but I stopped him.” You started to explain.

“Then, I came back here, and a few hours later, Carmy showed up. He wanted to crash here. I told him it was a bad idea, and he started talking about not knowing if he was still in love with me.” You told her.

By the time you finished explaining, she was stunned. “Oh my god, are you going okay? I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.” She said, pulling you in and giving you a hug.

“I’m just so nervous for Richie’s party today. I can’t stand the idea of seeing Carmy after the stuff he told me. And Claire is pissed at me, which I understand, but I haven’t done anything.” You said. She nodded along, recognizing how tricky the situation was. “Well, I’m sure it will be fine, but if you don’t want to go or you want to leave early, I totally understand.” She told you.

You both got dressed for the party and headed towards the Bear.

When you walked inside, you saw all the decorations that you assumed Sugar hung up. The first person you both bumped into was Carmy. “Hey, guys,” he said, smiling at the both of you.

You forced yourself to ignore him and made a beeline for where you saw Sugar on the other side of the room. Maria got dragged into a conversation with someone else.

“How are you? You look amazing.” Sugar said, pulling you in for a quick hug. “Thanks, so do you,” you said, smiling at her.

“Excuse me, let me sneak past you both.” You heard Claire say as she juggled two drinks. She walked past you both and headed towards Carmy. Nat noticed the glare that she gave you, but didn’t mention it.

Then, Richie appeared. “Hello, my amazing friend, it’s nice to see you.” Richie said, pulling you in for a hug.

“It’s nice to see you too, Richie. Happy birthday,” you said, holding out the gift bag you had for him. He graciously accepted it. “Thank you, and thank you for coming. I know it’s a lot with the whole Claire Carmy situation.” He said.

“Did something happen with you and Carmy? He keeps looking over here.” Nat asked. You felt your heart sink. You were trying to avoid Carmy as much as possible at this party, which you knew would be a challenge. “Yeah, I didn’t see you much after Claire showed up last night. You two okay?” Richie asked you. They were both concerned for you.

While you appreciated their concern, you did not want to talk about it. You wanted to take a page out of Carmy’s book and ignore the problem until it went away.

“I love you both so much, and I know you mean well. But, I really don’t want to talk about Carmy. So, if you’ll excuse me for a minute.” You said, heading towards the kitchen door. You needed some peace and quiet to clear your head.

You walked in and saw Sydney. “Oh, hey. You look great, that dress is gorgeous.” She complimented. You quickly thanked her and noticed she was making herself a drink.

“Anyway you could make me one of those?” You asked her, curiously.

She quickly nodded. “Yeah, of course. Ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend problems? Coming right up,” Sydney said, immediately understanding.

Meanwhile, Claire had just overheard Richie tell Maria that he “had a great time last night” and asked if she wanted to stay over again. She immediately marched over towards where Carmy was standing in the corner.

“Hey, baby,” Carmy said, wrapping his arm around Claire’s waist. “Where did you say you went last night?” She asked him. They’d already had this conversation, but now she knew he’d lied.

“What do you mean? I told you I went over to Richie’s.” He lied, pressing a kiss to her temple. Carmy was trying to act nonchalant, but he knew something was off. “Really? Cause I just overheard Richie say he had a very different guest last night, and it wasn’t you.” Claire confronted him.

Carmy froze. He didn’t know why he had lied in the first place. Probably because he knew that if he told Claire he stayed with you that Claire would assume you slept together.

“Did you go to see her last night?” Claire asked, her tone was icy.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, c’mon,” Carmy said, guiding Claire towards the kitchen, so they could have their conversation in private.

“You want to hide me away, so all your friends don’t know how shitty you are?” Claire asked. Carmy groaned to himself. “C’mon, we don’t have to do this in front of everybody.” He said, continuing to nudge her towards the door.

“You know what, Carmen? It’s really my fault. I should’ve known that if little miss soulmate ever came back to Chicago, you would’ve fallen right in to bed with her. What was I thinking? That having a girlfriend would have stopped you? Clearly not,” she yelled at Carmy as he pulled her into the kitchen.

They both froze when they saw you and Sydney standing in the kitchen, with shocked expressions.

“Oh, for fucks sake. Of course you’re here,” Claire groaned. You downed the rest of your drink, needing the temporary courage.

“Listen, Claire, whatever is going on with you both is not my business, but you have no reason to have an issue with me. Nothing happened last night. He slept on my couch. I didn’t fuck your boyfriend.” You yelled at her, storming past them and heading out the front door.

Sydney quickly excused herself, not wanting to be stuck with the fighting couple. Claire and Carmy both were still stunned. You were someone who was always pretty able to keep your cool.

Carmy looked between Claire and the door that you ran out of. “Are you fucking kidding right now? You want to run after her, don’t you?” Claire asked Carmy, shocked. Carmy huffed and ran his hand through his hair.

“You know what? Fuck you, and yes, I do want to run after her.” Carmy said, rushing towards the door. He ran down the street looking for you when he spotted you crying in the alley. He rushed towards you.

He wiped the tears off your cheeks and pulled you into a hug. “This is your fault, Berzatto.” You said, pushing him away from you.

“I know I really screwed up. I shouldn’t have come over last night, but I don’t know what to do.” Carmy said, looking over at you and hoping you had the answers. You didn’t know what to tell him.

“You need to be with your girlfriend right now, not comforting me.” You told him. You figured the only way to keep the shit show from happening was to keep you two apart. “But I still care about you. I still consider you a friend, and you matter to me.” He told you softly.

“But, I can’t matter to you. Not anymore,” you said, before turning to leave.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @mattsfavbigtitties @the-sylver-dragon @0-n-1-x @delicateholland @kythefangirl25 @bwoah-its-g @lillysfrogsandbogs @4ria790 @parkerm8001

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[latenightdaydreams]

Just read Tutor pt 1 and 2 and I've got to say... How dare we treat our precious boy like that- I need part 3 (if there is one-) to be like.. König somewhat distances himself and tries to stop having these constant feelings. I need more angst cause I am a fiend for good angst TwT

🤭of course!

Tutor Part 3 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1 Part 2

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, angst, fingering, oral, p in v, public sex

2.1k word count

📖

.

.

It’s fifteen minutes past the start time for class when you enter the lecture hall. No backpack and wearing a tight fitted dress, the hem barely coming down to the middle of your thighs. König looks over your body, noticing his marks, before looking away with a stoic look on his face. He can feel you looking at him occasionally from over your shoulder, but he doesn’t return the gaze.

In all honesty, König had been debating on even showing up to class today. He never thought that he would grow to love you so easily or that you would break his heart just as easily. He’s angry with himself for thinking that you would change for someone like him. All he can focus on is what you did with Troy once you left. His stomach growls from missing breakfast. He completely lost his appetite.

Every time you look back, König’s eyes that usually follow your every move are not even glancing at you. There is a pit in your stomach. You definitely ruined things this morning. If going back and redoing this morning was a possibility, you’d do that in a heartbeat.

Once class is over, you stand and approach König. You stand there watching as König packs up his laptop. He doesn’t even look over at you, ignoring your presence. The tension between the two of you is suffocating.

“Hey.” You tap on the desk waiting for him to look over at you finally.

“Hey.” König’s voice is low and gruff.

“Are you ready to…get to work?” You bite your lower lip and cross your arms behind your back, swaying slightly.

König lets out a deep sigh and stands up, looking down at you. “Ja, let's go to the library.”

“Library?”

“Ja.”

“But König—”

“Do you want help, or no?”

You stand there gazing at him for a moment, feeling your heart sink. Your eyes roam over his face, seeing the slight frown on his lips. Instead of trying to insist on going to his room, you give in and back up.

König takes long strides, leaving you behind while he walks to the library. His palms are sweaty as he thinks about the fact that he will have to sit beside you and talk to you. As much as he hates it, all he can think about is how your body feels on him, how sweet you looked snuggled up next to him all night. Then also what you did with Troy that caused you to be fifteen minutes late.

You take a seat at one table in the back of the library, sitting in the chair closest to König. He lets out an annoyed huff, but doesn’t move. With soft eyes, you watch him unpack his back and get his laptop out. The surrounding air both feels thick and uneasy, both aware that a conversation about this morning will have to happen.

“König?”

König shifts his head to you, looking at you with a guarded glare in his eyes. “What?”

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

“I am.”

“About us?”

“There is no us.” His words make your face feel flush, but you’re y/n, you try to keep composure.

“I just sucked your dick last night.”

König waves you off after that comment and logs into his laptop before pulling out the textbook, handing it to you. You take it but drop it on the table with a loud thud and just look at him. Annoyed, you nudge his shoulder.

“Talk to me! Are you mad at me?”

“Do you want me to help or not?” König snaps.

“I want to talk to you!”

König stands and packs his things in a rush, his voice sounding as if he’s holding back tears. “Then I’m done.”

You sit there as you watch König as he walks out of the library, leaving you with no answers. The sound of your heartbeat pounds in your head. Just then your phone rings, Troy. With shaky legs you stand and answer your phone.

“I’m done with you Troy. I don’t want to talk.” You say through gritted teeth before hanging up on him.

Knowing König’s schedule, you wake up early the next morning and get ready to see him. You get dressed in jeans and a cropped white shirt, grabbing your backpack before heading out to buy him breakfast. In the back of your mind, you’re aware that he might reject you again. You stand nervously at his door before knocking.

König answers the door, looking down at you with sleepy eyes. His shirt off exposing his beautiful body before meeting his eyes, blue pajama pants hugging him. He looks you up and down, taking in your beautiful figure before looking you in the eyes.

“What do you want?”

“I got breakfast.” You smile and hold it up to him trying your best to be soft.

König looks at the brown bag in your hand then back to you before grabbing it from you. He looks inside, trying to not show how much he appreciates this gesture from you. There is a lull in conversation as you both stand there scared to speak next.

“Uh, I have my backpack if you have time to…study.”

“Ja, I’ll meet you in the library in twenty minutes.” König closes his door on you. You take a deep breath, fighting down the want to bang on his door and demand he open it. At least he’s agreed to meet you.

At the library you sit at the same table as last time, you book on the table and a pen between your fingers as you nervously fumble with it. Your eyes drift to the doors anxiously waiting for König to grace you with his presence. Thirty minutes pass before he does.

You sit with König and watch him unpack, keeping your comments to yourself. The last thing you want is for him to leave so soon. He jumps into the lesson without giving any room to talk. All you can do is look at his hands as he moves around, the way his lips curve as he speaks.

“König.”

“What?” His pale eyes meet yours.

“Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Please?”

König sits back in his seat and looks around the library, seeing how many people are here. It’s early but there is still a bit of a crowd. He shouldn’t make a scene, but he has to know. His body adjusts in his seat to face you.

“What did you do with Troy after seeing me?”

“Wha- why is that important?”

“Because I don’t understand how you can be soft in my arms on moment and fucking someone else the next.”

“Yes, we fucked, but I broke up with him.”

There is nothing said with words, only looks. König’s eyes drop down to your lips and back to his eyes. Did you break up with him? But yet you still fucked him and that hurts. His eyes bore into your soul as if he is trying to read your mind.

“Why did you two break up? The marks?”

“No, I mean he was upset but I broke up with him after yesterday.”

“For me?”

You can feel your walls wanting to go back up and deny him, but you also know that does nothing but cause pain for the both of you. As you drop your gaze down to the table in front of you. “Yes.”

König lets out a soft hum, his expression hard to read. His heart beats picking up pace as he leans forward, grabbing your jaw and pulling you to him. Your lips meet in a fiery passionate kiss; sparks flying between the two of you.

As surprised you are for the kiss, you don’t pull away, but lean into it. Your mouth opens, forcing your tongue past his lips to taste him. A gentle moan leaves your lips as your tongues slowly swirl around one another. His hands slip down your face to your waist, pulling you to him. Without a second thought on where you two are, you get up and straddle him.

König wraps his hands around your ass, squeezing your supple flesh through the fabric of your jeans. The feeling of your tongue on his, the taste of your lips, you’re his. So lost in the moment, the two of you fail to see all the eyes that have shifted focus and are now zeroing in on your public display. Some laughs, seeing you, the hot popular one, shoving her tongue down König’s throat. The awkward nervous giant groping you publicly.

Being a self-conscious person, König turns his head when he hears the loud group of people talking. Your lips move to his cheek and down his neck as he looks, your hand gently cupping his face to turn him back to you.

“Ignore them.” You whisper.

“Let’s go.”

You nod, moving off of his lap to grab your things. The both of you quickly packed up. As you do, your phone buzzes, Troy. He's sent photos and videos of you making out with König already. He sends text after text insulting you for leaving him for that “ogre”, but you ignore the text. König grabs your hand and guides you through the hall before leading you into the men’s bathroom with you.

König grabs your bag and drops it on the counter along with his. His lips kiss your neck, roaming down your neck as he bites you, pressing you against the wall. You’re being submissive to him as you allow him to explore and touch your body in any way he wants to. He lifts your shirt, pulling one of your breasts out of your bra. The trail of bites continues until he bites your nipple, pulling a gasp from you.

“You’re mine. Not Troys, or anyone else’s. Mine.”

You nod, gazing up at him as he undoes your jeans. His eyes travel over your exposed breast and then back up to your eyes. He slides your jeans down, his warm hands grazing over the soft skin of your thighs.

“Say it.” König drops to his knees before you, his eyes lingering on your clothed cunt.

“I’m yours.”

König pulls down your underwear, a small smile on his face as he sees your pussy, already wet for him. One of his hands gently lifts your left leg, placing it over his shoulder. His middle and ring finger leisurely graze across your folds. He lifts his head to look into your eyes as he slips his two fingers into you, opening his mouth to match your gasp.

“Say my name.”

“König.”

“That’s right, you're mine.”

He moves his fingers in and out of you as he watches your head drop back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as his two fingers stretch you out more than Troy's cock did. König smirks, reaching up with his other hand to cup your breast as he leans forward, flicking his tongue on your growing clit.

“Oh fuck…” A light moan leaves your lips.

“Only my name, Liebling.”

König presses his face more between your warm thighs as he pumps his arm faster, his fingers curved forward to rub on your g-spot. With his other hand he gently twirls your nipple between his thumb and pointer.

“König, please.”

He responds by letting out a soft hum against your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking lightly. The taste of your creamy cunt consuming his taste buds as your leg twitches over his shoulder. His eyes gaze up at you as you look down at him, his pupils full blown by the excitement of having you so publicly. Anyone can hear your wet pussy, your pleas as you call König’s name out.

“König!” Your mewls become more pathetic and desperate. “Please!”

“Are you going to cum?”

“Ye- yes…” Your voice trembles.

König doesn’t change his pace, moving his face back between your legs to roll his tongue in waves over your sweet sensitive clit. Your velvety walls begin to tighten around his two fingers. His cock twitching and leaking, desperately wishing to be inside of your cunt feeling your tightness.

“König…please!”

From outside the bathroom, a few people walking by can hear your loud moans. The way you’re desperately crying out for König’s touch. It’s clear by your voice and the photos in the library being circulating around social media already. No one dares to interrupt you too, scared of your attitude and König’s size.

König has you now bend over the counter in the bathroom, a handful of hair pulling your head back so you can look at yourself. His hips slam harshly against your ass, watching the ripple effect of each thrust. He looks up at your reflection. Your slack jaw face is completely overwhelmed with ecstasy, eyes fluttering as your body succumbs to his.

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

The Danny Bunch x Fistfights:

Daniel's characters often get beaten up but they don't typically instigate fistfights. If they do fight back, it's with wits. Should they choose violence, their weapon of choice is usually a gun.

If a brawl were to break out, however, Erik, Zemo, Checo, Laszlo, and Niki would probably have caused it with something they said or did, deliberately or otherwise. In my mind they're not necessarily a part of the scuffle, they're just pot stirrers. Arranged the likelihood of someone having diabolical intent from left to right. It peters out by the time it gets to Laszlo and Niki, as they mostly trigger conflict with the unfiltered truths they speak. While many of Daniel's characters would probably lose in a fistfight, I see Alex, Arbo, Tony, and Andrea going down after a single punch. Why these babies would be in a physical altercation, however, is beyond me. David from Lila, Lila was originally on this list but then I remembered he did beat up his tormentor in a mad rage. I was also tempted to add dorky ol' Marek but then he looks way too fit to be knocked out so easily. Marko would obviously win in a punching match. I'm willing to bet Horstmayer would, too. Ernst slugged someone in The Cloverfield Paradox (threw the first blow and all) but that was after this person directed multiple accusations at him. He has a temper but I don't think he readily resorts to violence. There is this feral quality to him though, so if he is in one, I see him winning. Zemo could take on a horde of non-enhanced fighters any day. Daniel (Weltz), Tobias, and Sebastian I see running away from shit they probably stirred, the scumbags. Zemo chooses his battles. He's a skilled fighter but against, say, the Avengers or the Dora Milaje, he knows he's better off ditching the scene or pitting them against each other. Lutz, Klaus, and Frederick go apeshit when cornered or scorned. They go from nasty to full-on Nazi. To Zemo, bombs are an acceptable means to an end—a literal tool in the arsenal. Should anything stand in the way of his mission, he will make them go BOOM.

*** p.s. if it isn't obvious already, Zemo appears four times because he changes tactics depending on the situation.

p.p.s. not sure who to credit for this concept since it's all over the internet but this alignment chart is adapted from THIS POST. I also do not know who coined the term "The Danny Bunch" but I've seen it in some posts. Tumblr's search system is no help, so I'm just borrowing it here.

[angelbitezzz]

I did mention that the Dancetale pair were like one of the first to start dating and I thought it'd be really funny if the hypothetical universe meetup had the pair from classic Undertale before they got together because they took it so slow

Angel stared at the two in front of her, jaw almost touching the floor. Her face felt hot, eyes nearly popping out of her head. She didn't look at the skeleton next to her, knowing without even seeing that he'd gone as stiff as she had. After all, it wasn't every day you saw an alternate universe version of yourself kissing someone you consider a good friend.

Star parted from her Sans with a bright grin, finally looking over at the classic pair. Her expression morphs into confusion.

"What's up? You guys look like you've seen a ghost."

"I. Uh. I'm fine."

The other Sans opened his sockets and looks at her, those eye-lights just a little fuzzy. (Her Sans looks at her that way sometimes. She doesn't let herself think of why.) They sharpen almost immediately though, and she feels that all too familiar sensation of being CHECKed, a crawling up her spine and a silent awareness of her soul.

His gaze switches between her, her Sans, and then back to her. That all too familiar look passes over this stranger's face, that amused understanding like he'd figured out a puzzle of some kind. And she wonders if all of them share that expression.

"heh."

He turns his head and mutters something into Star's ear. Her doppelganger blinks owlishly at them before understanding dawns.

"...snrk—" She covers her mouth with a hand, but Angel saw that grin coming a mile away. She can't even bring herself to be mad about that, because she'd do the exact same thing in her shoes. "Sorry, sorry! I'm gonna go ahead and steal my boyfriend now. It was nice meeting you!"

Star drags her Sans away in the direction of two others, calling out like her goal was to embarrass Angel and Sans even further. "Can't wait! Gonna dance with the love of my life! The fire of my loins! Etcetera!"

...Would it be morally correct to choke your alternate self?

Angel shakes her head to clear the thought, mortification crawling up her back. She risks a look over at Sans.

He's usually so put together, features betraying nothing beyond a lazy grin and a curious stare. Now though, he's just as flushed as she is. One hand is over his mouth, covering the twitching teeth as he fights to keep his grin intact. It's about the closest thing to a frown from him that she's ever seen, the sight punching her slightly in the chest. All of a sudden, it's like she's been transported back into grade school, classmates laughing. Little jerks tapping her on the shoulder, saying "So and so likes you!" And the target always, vehemently, denying with a clear disgust.

Angel chokes down the poison and laughs, startling the skeleton. The sound is thin.

"That was, uh, something! Sorry about that."

"...eh. it's fine. different timelines, different people." What she perceives as disgust is wiped from his face as he pulls himself back together. "guess we're getting back to mingling?"

"Sure." There's a pit in her stomach. "Onward!"

[sunarots]

taste ━━━ suna rintarou & miya osamu

05. help is on the way, dear! ♡

"What are you doing here?"

You fight the urge to look at him and immediately fold, instead chugging the rest of your drink before adjusting yourself to face him. "What do you think?"

Suna has you cornered in an empty hallway, out of sight from the other students and your friends. You can feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, your friends likely panicking from your frantic messages. You crumple the paper cup in your hand, eyes on him as you await his response.

Shaking his head, Suna lets out a soft scoff and glances over his shoulder to make sure no one can hear him. "You weren't invited."

"Um, I was, actually," you correct, resting a hand on your hip.

"By who? Atsumu? I don't think so."

"Does it matter who by? It's a team party, anyway. I have just as much right to be here considering Kuro got an invite." You try to walk past him, huffing when he steps to the side. "Oh, grow up."

"Grow up!" he laughs, straightening up. "Big talk from you. You've been even more petty than usual in practice, targeting me."

Typically, right now you'd likely have tears in your eyes and would be trying to get as far away as possible from the situation. But now, thanks to the alcohol in your system, the rage and confidence was starting to build up. Especially the rage.

"Petty? For making you pair up with your friend against your other friends?" Suna scowls at your remark, crossing his arms over his chest. "Has it occurred to you I wanted to put Atsumu against Keiji because they're both great setters and I wanted to see how they handled it? Not everything revolves around you, ugly, so why don't back the fuck up and let me get back to the party."

"I'm not fucking stupid, y/n, I remember. I caught on to you doing this. Whenever you're mad at me, you pit me against someone who was better than me so we couldn't win."

"You don't play against better people to lose, you play against them to better yourself." You jab his chest with your finger and try to push past him, sighing when he blocks you again.

"I don't buy it. You don't even try to be civil nor professional."

Your eyes narrowing, you're getting ready to start shouting before a hand is placed on your shoulder.

"Hey, what's the issue here? Just some old friends... Hanging out..." Osamu closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. "We're staying calm, cool, and collected!"

"One of us is," you mutter, turning to look at the wall on the other side of you.

Osamu lets go of Suna before you, plastering on a fake smile before turning back to you. "Y/n, your friends are looking for ya," he says, releasing your shoulder and stepping between you and Suna.

You slip out while you can, nails digging into the palms of your hands. You turn into the kitchen, where Noya is stood on the countertop with Suga in front of him. He gasps and points to you, Suga raising his hands to cheer and narrowly missing clipping Noya between the legs. You can't help but laugh at them as you approach them, Noya jumping down to greet you.

"Where the hell did you go? We were worried!" Suga yells, grabbing ahold of your shoulders. "Did Ugly get you? Oh my god, did Riko?"

"Ugly! Osamu rescued me before I killed him."

Noya narrows his eyes, glancing around the room. "Will we lure him to the top of the stairs?"

You shake your head no and watch the light drain from his eyes. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you pour yourself another drink. "They'd know. Too obvious."

Noya shrugs his shoulders and mumbles something you don't catch, looking around the room. He scrunches his face as he looks at someone on the other side of the counter. "Ew!"

You look at the person who's caught his eye, grimacing when you see Rubi pouring two drinks. You're quick to turn your back on her, not wanting her to catch you staring. "I'm officially over this party," you announce, sipping on your drink.

Suga finished his before tossing the cup. "Will we go? I could eat."

"I could eat," Noya agrees, keeping his cup in his hand and beginning to lead the pair of you towards the back door. "Wait! What about everyone else?"

You look around the room and catch Suna entering, approaching Rubi. You huff, lightly nudging Noya to keep moving. "I'll just text them. Let's go."

# fun facts !

a while after you left, osamu had to call rubi a taxi because her and suna got into

masterlist. previous | next

summary. when your ex starts dating your least favourite person on campus, your ex-best friend from high school, you can’t help but feel a little betrayed. you quickly realise a way to get back at him: his best friend.

taglist (open!). @v3nusplanetofluv @mdmraz @thoughtswithbbg @fireinyoureye @wakashudou @jisookdays @tespho @frootloopscos @gigiiiiislife @walllflowerrrsss @tangerinelovr @datonegaybestfriend @sturnprincess @4rmins @justanotherweeb666 @1yeah1 @rrosiitas @yuu-via

[anotherbananasong]

Promises You Made to Me (2/4)

It’s time for Air to face the clergy alone…

“Nervous” doesn’t begin to cover how Air feels. The pressure from his corset barely comforts him. He’s had Earth at his side almost every moment, day and night, since they mated. Earth is his comfort; he doesn’t know what he will do without him. Earth accompanies him right up to the doors.

Earth: (running a comforting hand over Air’s chest) It’ll be okay, skybird. I promise, I’ll be right out here until you come out. I won’t leave.

Air: (eyes already beginning to water) I don’t want to…

Earth: (reaches up and wipes his tear) Remember, Secondo said not to let them see. (takes Air’s hands in his own, placing a kiss on his fingers) Promise me you won’t say anything that will send you back to the Pits. Okay?

Air: I promise.

As usual, the clergy is seated at their raised podium. Even with their size, the Ancients still have to look up to see them. And to Air’s horror, Sister is right there in the middle. He’s never been able to look her in the face; she strikes such fear in him that he can’t maintain eye contact. Had it been just the clergy, like usual, he may have been able to hold himself together a little better. But not with Sister actually making an appearance.

Sister: (after a disarming silence) This whole “kit” business… Whose idea was it?

Air: (heart sinks from his chest; he knows he was the first to bring it up. but admitting it would send him back to the Pits. and he promised Earth) …

Sister: (narrowing her eyes, satisfied with the discomfort she can see in Air’s glowing eyes) Don’t make this difficult, ghoul.

Air: (even worse, if he says anything that may put Earth in trouble, Earth may be the one going back to the Pits) …

Sister: (flicking imaginary dust from her sleeve) I’m your friend. You wouldn’t want to make your friend mad, would you?

Air: (feeling his lungs tighten with anxiety; he couldn’t answer even if he wanted to) …

Sister: (gives Air a long silence to build the tension) You want to tell me, ghoul. You know I have ways to get my answer. You don’t want me to have to take drastic measures.

Air: (looks down at the floor) …

Sister drills him for forty minutes, alternating between demanding he answer and leaving him in frightened silence. It’s effective, despite Air’s continued mutism. As he sweats where he stands, Sister can see that he’s weak. He’s always been the weakest of Secondo’s ghouls. She may not interact with him often, but she knows what will break him.

Sister: (after the forty minutes of Air’s silence) Tell you what, ghoul; we have a lovely room for you. You can stay there until you’re ready to talk to your friend.

Air: (Secondo said “don’t let them see”, but he can’t help the tears at Sister’s new threat. what does that mean?)

Sister: I’ll have someone take you there, and you can think about your answer. Take your time; I’m a patient woman.

Outside the doors, Earth is pacing. He can feel Air’s torment through their mating bond, but Air is closed off from the comfort and encouragement Earth is attempting to send to him through it. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but it feels like it’s been years. He finally sits on a bench and focuses on trying to reach Air through the bond, trying to send him a wave of his love. He almost jumps when the meeting room door opens, but his stomach sinks when it’s not Air coming out the doors.

Sister: (businesslike and matter-of-fact) Return to your dorm. He won’t be joining you.

Earth: (didn’t know Sister herself was in that room; no wonder Air was so afraid) What do you mean? What does that mean?

Sister: You don’t need to ask questions; you just need to obey.

Earth: What does that mean, he’s not joining me?

Sister: (tilts her head, giving him a glance over) He has to think about some things. He’ll be staying up here for now. Return to the catacombs, ghoul.

Earth: (rises from the bench) Why is he staying up here? He has to come back with me… Why is he staying up here? What are you going to do to him?

Sister: I said no questions.

Earth: (Secondo said to protect his mate… this isn’t protecting him) No, tell me. Tell me why he’s staying up here. What’s going on? You let him out of there. He’s coming home with me.

Sister: (treating him to one of her terrifying smiles as he approaches her) Don’t ask questions, ghoul; you’ll make this more difficult for him. Choose your actions wisely.

Earth: (considers a million things all at once) … (hisses in warning, a promise that he will retaliate if they harm his mate, and turns to go back to the catacombs. alone)

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Las Vegas 2023

-This whole race was on YouTube!!

-Saw Logan in the intro and immediately lost it

-It feels so weird watching this in such clear definition

-“This town has waited 40 years for the pinnacle of Motorsport to return” On a Saturday night??

-Such a unique track shape fr

-Yuki P20?!??!

-Ohmygod, why are the McLaren in the back of the grid

-I’m going to cry, Logan p6

-Someone take me back to 2023 and make me watch this qualifying live

-“It is the childhood rivalry at the front of the field”

-So many celebrities in the garages

-Oooh the Alpha Tauri livery and the Ferrari rear wing! Hope those designers got a raise

-Ohmygod not even a second in and they’re both off the track

-I just watched Logan lose a place and make it back up, I’m never recovering from this

-VSC and everyone in the pits

-“Max I think we’re happy to say that you were ahead when you went off the track, happy to stay there” “Of course I was ahead” Confidence is so sexy

-“This needs to be addressed now. It is a joke if he keeps the position.” The rivalry is rivalry-ing

-Damn Yuki! P11!

-Oh shit Lando! That was so sudden! He must have hit that barrier really hard

-Ah yeah and looking at that replay? I wonder if he was injured

-Why do all the cars look so shiny

-Why wouldn’t the sphere just be showing live race results instead of the usual adverts?

-I love when all the cars zig zag behind the safety car, so cute

-“The question is, how early will Max bolt” “…And he’s gone already”

-Oh wow that overtake by Oscar?

-Feels like a lifetime ago, the last time I saw Carlos and Fernando fighting it out

-“Definitely looks like he’s on a rush on to get out of here” lol Max’ hate for Vegas is so real

-“Let’s go Lewis!” I say, five seconds before I realize the person he’s gone past is Yuki

-Five second penalty

-Why didn’t I start watching races last year? It’s not like I had anything else to obsess over then

-“Yeah that’s fine, send them my regards” Cold

-Ocon! Come on man, why’d you do that to Kevin

-Okay can’t even be mad about Oscar doing it too cause that was extremely cool

-Yes Kevin! He got back!

-And he’s lost it again

-Not Yuki falling back to last place

-“Carlos Sainz facing up against his childhood hero” It’s the race for childhood lores

-“Our first Saturday Grand Prix since 1985” Why??

-Seeing Logan and Zhou in the top 12. I am so extremely gutted to have not witnessed this live

-So many things happening everywhere in the track but all I can focus on is Logan in p6 and praying that he doesn’t fall too far back when he stops for tires

-Seeing Checo make up so many places also is making me feel a lot of feelings

-Don’t like seeing Daniel so far down :/

-Ocon! Come on not again! And on Logan?!

-Although…seeing Logan and Oscar right behind each other is definitely adds to the race of childhood lores

-Oh god can Logan at least stay in the points, he got passed by like three cars

-Oh Mercedes trying an undercut?

-“He looks like he might get this done on track”

-“I don’t think this is Max managing, this is Max under pressure “

-Love when Charles goes for it! That was amazing!

-Ohmygod there’s so much happening, I forgot about the penalty, also so many people coming in to box at the same time, the leaderboard is all mixed up now

-Lewis has a puncture?

-“There’s just so much action happening in this Grand Prix it’s difficult to follow it” Exactly!

-Holy shit Zhou p7?!

-“Car’s not stopping, *****” Haha the way that bollard flew off??

-The recovery drive from Checo though??

-Somehow Logan and Oscar have ended up one after another again

-Checo p2!

-I wonder how drivers who aren’t typically up front feel about having the chance to be at front during a race. Are they like “holy shit how am I running alongside the top three teams right now?” “Do I really have a Mercedes in my mirrors??”

-“As the world champion is on the charge begind him”

-Woah the speed at which he went past George??

-“Max Verstappen has the fastest lap of the race. Do not count him out of this one” I don’t think anyone can

-It’s so funny to me that Lance is p2. It’s giving Germany 2019 before he lost it in the end

-“Sainz, Russel, Verstappen” Honestly amazing how Carlos made it up there

-George and Max going past all cars ahead of them together. It’s almost like George is making way for him

-Oh bloody hell I spoke too soon, they’ve made contact

-“There’s Charles Leclerc making the pass on Lance Stroll”

-Red Bull double stack? Ooh yes!

-“This is what happens in a street circuit, they either behave themselves cause they’re worried about chaos or you get action for every minute”

-“Piastri is up 14 places”

-Can I just say, this safety car is so diva

-“Charles Leclerc has a new Red Bull to fight this time”

-“He just turned in onto my wheel. I guess he didn’t expect me to pass him there” The nonchalant confidence is even better

-“Late, late, late in the breaks, and later still for Oscar Piastri” Is it an Australian thing do we think?

-So cool seeing all the cars bunched up so close together

-“This is the resurgence of Sergio Perez” Yes! Let’s go!

-Ohmygod Checo!!

-Oh they are showing the race results on the sphere!

-Ah the Alpine’s are fighting

-Charles stuck in a Red Bull sandwich

-“Max Verstappen looking to demoralize the ones ahead even further” That’s so funny wth

-Ohmygod Charles how does one even make that pass??!

-“This is a three horse race” funnn

-“That’s one of those passes where I’m coming through or there’s going to be a lot of debris” it’s giving I’m not taking my leg of the pedal until I see god or the checkered flag

-🎶 Max! Max! Super Max! 🎶

-“Charles going right who is it? In the mirrors? It’s the world champion”

-“Let’s work together here. We can get him”

-✨Rihanna✨ (my brain just went blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff)

-“Stay with him. Double tow here. We work together” Damn that goes so hard

-The way the Red Bulls just switched around. Didn’t actually think Max was going to make it there actually

-The commentators: “Sainz, further back in the pack”

Me who has forgotten about every car but the top three: “Who?”

-“Hunt them down George” Oh alright then

-The way Carlos, Fernando, and Lewis went past Alex right after George did, that has got to hurt

-Woah Charles?? That was so unfortunate

-That was such bad strategy on McLaren parts wasn’t it? Why not change his tires to the right ones earlier?

-Haas, when I find you Haas

-Yuki?? There were like two laps left! What happened??

-“Bieber’s got the flag, has Leclerc got the move” Ha

-“Help to tow him along, might be useful” “Ok I’ll try”

-Charles actually might make it back to P2…He’s done it!!

-“He’s pulled it off. As he does. Max Verstappen finds a way to win”

-“Yes, let’s go guys, that was quite fun out there. At least I had fun”

-🎶 Vivaa Las Vegas 🎶

-“ Into the pit lane Max, or should I call you Elvis?” Haha

-Post race drivers>> (especially Logan) (I’m going to conveniently forget he didn’t end up in the points)

-Them being so confused by the post race spectacle of it all is so amusing

-Maxplaining and Leclarifying in full bloom

-“We go straight to the nightclub. Skip everything. See you tomorrow evening…or not!” He thinks he’s so funny

-“It was a nice race actually” It really was

[saiintvalentiine]

Summary: Parrot and Wifies have a talk some time after the fallout of Parrot finding out Wifies is a clone. A follow up to Ken's POV in Part 1.

notes: this is once again not edited, this was the result of some quick writing last night and a wrap up today. it's more like practice for Parrot's voice which i think i did a shit job at but it's here and u can now judge me urself. enjoy. or dont idk. divider from here

word count: 2568. just slightly less than the previous installment.

11:49

Parrot has picked through his feathers so many times he thinks he’s developing a bald spot in his left wing. He's usually better at waiting, has patience for his plans to go through, but today there is no plan, just waiting. He stares at his comm, open in his hand as he rereads the chat over and over again.

[Wifies]: Would you be open to talking with me today?

[Parrotx2]: yes

[Parrotx2]: of course

[Parrotx2]: what’s up

[Wifies]: I was actually wondering if we could meet up.

[Parrotx2]: yeah wherever you want

[Wifies]: I’ll open up my world.

[Wifies]: How does noon sound?

[Parrotx2]: perfect

[Wifies]: I’ll send you the IP then.

[Parrotx2]: great!

Great! He sounds like a loser.

So Parrot is waiting for the clock to strike noon on his comm to go. Part of him wonders if he's going to spawn into a pit, or straight into lava, or in an escape room, something that would make Wifies feel better to watch him go through after the hell Parrot raised. Parrot would be fine with that. Honestly, he hopes Wifies is mad. He's only going to feel worse if he's met with Wifies’s carefully thought out words and blunt kindness.

11:54

He stops touching his wings. He's been trying to organize his thoughts so he doesn't say something incredibly stupid to Wifies again. There’s a script now.

I’m sorry for reacting so harshly, I was shocked and didn’t know how to process what I was hearing. I felt hurt because I thought you didn’t trust me with the truth, but now I see why you wanted to keep it to yourself. I should have never acted that way. You’re so important to me, and I should have thought about all the trust between us. I always trust you.

11:55

It’s simple, but it’s straightforward, and he wants to be as clear as possible. He also wants to be sincere, but sincerity is scary. His sincerity is blue, bruised, gushes forward like an open wound and stains the world in his blood.

11:56

But he can do sincerity. He can do it for Wifies. He could probably do a lot for Wifies, but Wifies never asks for anything. He didn’t even ask to be freed from the chunkban. He just waited. Trusted Parrot, and waited for Parrot, and was happy to see Parrot after everything. Wifies is always trusting and waiting and happy.

11:57

And Parrot ruined it for what? Catharsis for his fears? A moment to let that horrible feeling of being second, third, fourth in someone's life tear through everything he’s done? Is that even the reason why?

11:58

God. When Wifies starts asking questions, Parrot is going to crumble like a house of cards. It'll be Parrot's unjust luck to be forgiven.

[Wifies]: IP XXXXXXXXXX

Parrot jolts and almost drops his comm. He scrambles to copy the IP down and flick through his comm settings. He pastes it into the server IP box and hovers over the connect button.

12:00

He clicks connect.

Landing softly onto a carpet of podzol in a chilly spruce forest, Parrot lets out a plume of ashen breath. There are a few cabins in a semicircle in front of him, warm light spilling out of each window and from the branches of the towering spruce trees. The afternoon sun barely breaches the canopy, but it speckles the ground just enough to give the world a surreal atmosphere.

There's a campfire pit to one side surrounded by log benches, and there sits Wifies. He looks brilliant in the firelight, dark hair loose without his headband and violet eyes muted.

“Parrot,” Wifies calls out as he stands up. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Parrot says lamely, hesitating for a moment before making his way over to Wifies. The campfire warms him up, but the chill doesn't go away. “How are you?”

“It’s going to rain soon, so I’m feeling it in my joints,” Wifies says, lighthearted as he rubs one of his shoulders. “Sit with me.”

So Parrot does. He’s not in the business of denying Wifies much of anything. He sits on one end of the log bench, and Wifies sits two feet away, turned towards Parrot, and Parrot looks at him, and his mind just— it blanks. His script dissolves like salt in the sea.

“I wanted to start with saying that I am a clone of the original Wifies,” Wifies says, giving Parrot space to try and reboot his brain. “He was. . . making clones for the sake of content, and I was the most successful one. I never knew. And one day, Ken showed up to what I thought was my single player world, and. . . it’s a very long story, but he got me out of there and we, um, we killed the original. He. . . wasn’t going to let me just leave. And those are the main points of my story. I just wanted you to know the important bits before we talk further.”

“Clones for content,” Parrot echoes, eyebrows scrunching up. “Clones for content? He was— what?”

“Making clones to put them into escape rooms for quick video production.”

“The— what the fuck?”

Wifies smiles awkwardly, but doesn’t speak again. He keeps rubbing his shoulder over and over, self soothing maybe, or maybe it’s just that painful from the onset of the rain.

“I'm sorry for how I acted. I don’t care that you’re a clone,” Parrot says, flinching at his own sharpness. He looks away and into the crackling fire. “I care about you. The clone stuff is— is whatever. Or not whatever, I’ll care about it as much as you want me to care about it.”

“Parrot, don’t make me promises you know you can’t keep.”

Wifies’s voice is gentle. It is so, so gentle, with no hint of disappointment or scolding. Parrot’s stomach churns. He wishes again for Wifies’s anger, pointed and cold, instead of this. Anger is easy. This stings like salt in a wound.

“Why do you think I can’t keep to that?”

“Not knowing drives you crazy.”

“You not being there has driven me more crazy.”

“Until you forget, and it starts bothering you again.”

Parrot deserves it, but his heart is heavy and he feels like he’s been shot right through it. Wifies isn’t even being cruel, just honest; he’s right, eventually it will drive Parrot crazy to not be able to talk about the whole situation, to understand Wifies better by prying into his life.

“I don’t like talking about it. It was a bad time for me. I also don’t know everything about. . . myself. About what you’ll eventually ask.”

Parrot has to physically bite his tongue. Wifies doesn't know everything. What if he gets sick? Or badly hurt? What if he starts feeling like something is wrong, and there's nothing to be done for it, because nobody knows? What if—

“This is why I never want to tell anyone,” Wifies sighs out, curling in on himself in the corner of Parrot’s eyes. “If nothing else, just promise me you won't tell anyone?”

“Never,” Parrot says firmly. That's a promise he can keep. “I would never.”

“Thank you, Parrot.”

Their conversation tapers off. The sunlight is disappearing little by little, the promised rain clouds rolling in from far away, far above. Parrot’s feathers puff up a bit at a slight, churning breeze that cuts through the forest.

“I'm sorry, for what it's worth. For lying this whole time.”

“I see why you did. I just ended up proving why lying was the right choice. Nothing to be sorry about.”

“It's funny,” Wifies says in a voice that promises to be anything but funny. “When I'm scared, everything hurts again. I can never remember how they got here, but all the little pains come back again, like the reminder of fear should pull a memory or two up. But there's nothing. I don't remember how I hurt my shoulder this badly. I don't remember how it got fixed. All I remember is that it’s hurt forever. I don't remember a life without pain, and when this all came to light, my reality went from a life where pain existed to a life that was lived with pain.”

Rain begins to dribble through the leaves around them. The campfire hisses and sparks but doesn't extinguish, too large and hot to be daunted by such a pathetic display. The canopy is too dense for the rain to punch through in earnest.

“What are you scared of?” Parrot forces himself to ask. Please don't be afraid of me.

“Losing another part of my life to this. I can never seem to escape the factory. What a lousy escapist I've become, huh?”

Wifies pulls his feet up into the log, resting his chin on his knee and watching the fire. Parrot doesn't remember turning towards him, but he inches closer. The space between them is too large. His hand is too far from Wifies’s own.

“You don't have to lose anything,” Parrot says. “There's nothing to be lost. You can always come back to the server. Nobody there will ever know except for Ken.”

“No matter how this plays out, I lose you.”

“I'm right here. I'm right next to you, right now, what do you mean?”

Parrot feels pathetic, but he doesn't care. Wifies won't look at him, is talking about losing him like Parrot isn't about to crawl out of his skin just so Wifies won't leave him again. The rain thickens the air around them with the promise of more force, and Parrot stretches a wing over Wifies’s head without a single thought.

“You'll always think about the fact I'm a clone. I lost my status of human. I lost our relationship. It took so long for me to feel normal, and now it's all gone.”

“Wifies, look at me please.”

Wifies does. He does, because he still cares, and Parrot is going to be sick at the resigned look in Wifies’s eyes. Parrot is close enough now, so he reaches out and holds Wifies’s face in both hands. He can feel the way Wifies’s jaw works, the thrum of his slow heartbeat in his throat, the way his breathing is shallow and quick. His eyes are a little glassy, a little red, and Parrot adds another wretched tally to the list of times he's made Wifies cry.

“No matter what, you are human, okay? To me, and to Ken, and I'm sure to whoever you were talking to that day as well. Don't ever doubt that.”

Wifies’s expression softens and he just barely nods, which is a small relief for Parrot.

“All I ever think about when you're gone is when you're coming back,” Parrot says. His sincerity bleeds, red and blue smudged across each word. He’ll bleed for them, every drop if that’s what it takes. “And all I've been thinking about this whole time is how I'm going to make it up to you. How I really, really want to do whatever it takes for you to stay. I want you to stay. And not a single one of those thoughts had anything to do with whether you're a clone or not.”

Wifies breathes in. It shakes something horrible. Parrot will crawl his way back into being trusted until he has no more body to move with.

“All of those thoughts had to do with how you've always been with me. Funny, kind, snarky, quick, the only person in this world I've ever been able to close my eyes next to knowing that I've got everything I need right there. That the only way I'll ever be apart from you is by being torn. And none of that, none of it, has changed. I still think all that about you. All that's been added is that I'm an asshole who definitely doesn't deserve your loyalty, but I'm too greedy to let it go so easily.”

That makes Wifies giggle, the sound wet and cracking. Parrot presses the pads of his thumbs under Wifies's eyes. If he's going to make Wifies cry, the least he can do is clean it up too.

“The only thing I ever need you to do is believe in me,” Parrot says, pressing his lips to Wifies’s forehead. It's easier somehow to speak like this, wetness pooling against Parrot’s fingers. “Believe that I love you so much. Believe that I'm going to make this right between us. Believe that learning this has done nothing to change how I feel about you. And if you can't, please believe in me anyway.”

“Of course I believe in you Parrot,” Wifies murmurs, voice crackling. “Why else would I follow you everywhere?”

“I'm that persuasive?”

“Hardly.”

“Hey, not even a little?”

Wifies laughs. It’s a sweet sound. When Parrot pulls back to look, Wifies has his eyes closed, and he’s not quite smiling, but he’s not frowning either, which is a win. 

“You’re determined and direct,” Wifies says, letting the full weight of his head loll into Parrot’s hands. Parrot raises his other wing so they're encompassed by green and red and blue. “Which is what made me agree to help you at first. But then. . . I don’t know. You can be charming when you want to be. Not often, but on occasion.”

Parrot squawks indignantly just to hear Wifies laugh again. Wifies blinks his eyes open, and Parrot wipes away a stray tear.

“Do you know how touchy you are?” Wifies asks suddenly.

“Should I let go?”

“No, I just wonder if you know that. When you were upset, you made a real effort to not reach out. That’s how I knew it was serious.”

“Well, now you know it’s not serious.”

“Mm, this is serious too in its own way. You’re serious that you want me to stay.”

Parrot lifts Wifies’s head so that they’re eye to eye, bloodshot violet to his own green-blue blur, and says, “Deadly serious. I don’t want to be separated like this again. Knowing I had hurt you and couldn’t make it better? The absolute worst time of my life, I think.”

“It sucked,” Wifies agrees, finally cracking a smile. “It’s over now though. I think.”

“Of course it's over now, you're never allowed to leave me like that again,” Parrot scolds him entirely lighthearted and Wifies snorts.

“Don't yell at me again and I won't.”

“I won't, I'm sorry for yelling.”

Wifies laughs again, and despite the fact he's clearly reveling in having Parrot wrapped around his finger like this, Parrot can't even pretend to be annoyed. Wifies won't leave him again. It's all that matters right now. Any question or doubt dies a quiet death when Wifies reaches up to hold both of Parrot’s wrists in a loose grip.

“This is weirdly nice,” Wifies says, closing his eyes again. “I don't think anyone's ever touched my face so gently. I can't remember the feeling.”

“You just say when,” Parrot replies.

He's not being entirely selfless here— there's something soothing about running the pads of his thumbs over Wifies’s skin, like a promise that this moment is as real as when he left. Wifies can't leave him when they're like this, tangled up under Parrot’s wings under the rain.

“Then for just a bit longer,” Wifies says, and Parrot agrees. Just a bit longer.