#sometimes you gotta smile to keep from crying and laugh to keep from dying ;)

[bleue-flora]

which dsmp line is your favorite? Also i hope You have a good day :D

Can’t believe you’re gonna make me pick? Ah… I don’t know this is too hard… okay how bout:

“And Quackity was allowed to go in and torture him. Every. Single. Day, Purpled. Do you know what that does to a man? Do you know the limits that people have it—it goes beyond those limits, it’s not okay.” - Punz

Because it inspired me to write my first fanfiction and sometimes I feel like life tortures me everyday beyond my limits. But I keep going anyways and I’m not gonna stop until I’m put down. And I may be sluggish but my house will have to be nuked to stop me from drinking tea and smiling through tears, “This is fine.” :)

[mafiaanomaly]

"Webs Territorial"

predator!Miguel O'hara x prey!fem!Reader

CW: Rape play, CNC, predator/prey, masochism, sadism, dacryphilia

Summary: After watching a fox attempting to hunt a bunny, Miguel suggests hunting you down instead. You agreed, knowing the consequences of being caught. CW: Rape play, CNC, predator/prey, masochism, sadism, dacryphilia

The soft crunch of leaves beneath feet. The cold sting of autumn wind. Pale moonlight slicing through foliage. Ragged breaths ripping through raw flesh of a dry throat.��

Keep moving, keep moving, keep moving.

One foot after the other. No time to cry. A stumble. The sharp snap of a breaking branch. A sudden sense of weightlessness before gravity’s claws sink in. 

Pain. 

Dirt in mouth. Gravel embedding into skin. Soft flesh ripping across knees. Scrambling. Palms searching for purchase. Feet fighting to stand.

Not yet, not yet, not yet.

A pained whimper. Rolled ankle. Sprained wrist. Blood running down legs. Limping forward. Eyes searching. 

Adrenaline.

A rustle on the right. Head turning to look. A shadow between tree trunks.

He’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming.

Hurt ankle dragging behind. Strangled sobs. Leaning on a tree. Head tossed back. Ears straining for more noise.

Breathe.

Inhale. Exhale. The call of a bird in the distance. The answering chirp of crickets. Changing direction. A falter in steps. A sudden stop.

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

“There you are, little bunny.”

Stepping backwards. A forgotten injury. Joint giving out. Body crashing to the ground. Crawling.

Escape.

A dark laugh. Stalking forward. He knows. You’re trapped.

“Trying to run away again, bunny?”

Kneeling down. Calloused hand gripping tender flesh. A rough squeeze on a twisted joint. 

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

Screaming. You’re screaming. Fighting to get away, but his grip only tightens around your ankle. 

“Aw,” He mocks you. Head tilted. Eyes alight. “You’re not getting away this time.”

He drags you forward. You try to twist away. Slight pressure. A warning. 

Immobilized.

Your thigh trembles. A whimper escapes you. One wrong move, and he could rip through you.

“That’s a good girl. Stay still for me and I won’t make it hurt that much.”

A shiver of anticipation. The sharp claws of defeat. He can see the way you fear your fate. Red eyes illuminated. The twinkle of stars

Gotta think, gotta think, gotta think. 

He leans forward. Eyes flutter closed. An idea. A quick inhale. Reel back. Ram forward. 

Crack. 

Hold released. Nose bleeding. An angry growl. Ignore the pain. Rush to stand. 

“You’ll pay for that, bunny!”

Stumbling forward. Don’t let the wolf win. Not without a fight. Pick up the pace. Break through branches. 

“You can’t run forever. Not on that ankle.”

Let's rewind back to what happen earlier...

--- Earlier ---

Miguel and you walked through the forest at the edge of city, taking in the beautiful summer day. You had decided to take a breather from the populated areas, so you proposed to have a walk in nature. You enjoyed the feeling of the sun on your face and the quietness of the birds singing nearby.

Miguel paused his step and gently grabbed your arm to stop you from walking as well.

“Shh, look. It’s a fox I think it’s trying to hunt that bunny.” Miguel whispered. The both of you stayed still as you watched the fox creep closer to the seemingly unimpressed bunny only a few feet away from it.

“Is… it gonna get it?” You whispered, feeling a bit nervous at the thought of a bunny dying so close to you.

“Wanna see?”

You felt queasy, not so sure how much you’d like to see that.

“No, not really.”

Miguel stepped forward, the sound of the twigs breaking under his step caused both the bunny and fox to run away.

“Come on, let’s keep walking.” He reached his hand out to you, smiling softly.

“Thank you,” you returned the smile and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers.

As you continued to walk, Miguel seemed unfocused from beside you, lost in his own thoughts. He did this often, sometimes not able to hear you talk to him when he got so deep in his own mind. You understood it was a habit he picked up when he was back home from missions, almost as if he was trying to filter through what he had witnessed. He seemed like he turned it over in his mind, trying to understand what he had done. It worried you seeing him so disconnected from reality, so you reached out for his hand to bring him back. He looked over at you, noticing the warmth of your hand.

During his daze, he was thinking of something else entirely. He could only think of you. Not in the way that was considered normal and fine, but he considered you pinned under him, unable to escape. The thoughts recurred to him often, the excitement of sadism rising up through his body and sending chills down his spine. He looked at you, wondering how it’d feel to chase you down like his own personal bunny. He knew he shouldn't bring pain to those that he loved and cared for, but how much different did his actions really make him from the monsters that he hunted down? He always tried to ignore these sorts of sadistic urges, but sometimes all he wanted to see was the fear in your eyes. Right before he brought out a paddle, a riding crop, or even as he lifted his hand to spank you. To punish you and make you succumb to him, all from your own will. To have you trembling from underneath him, spent and tired from taking him so well, tears running down your cheeks as you beg him to back off, but never fighting back.

The sunlight shone on your eyes and lips, making him want to see tears run down your cheeks alongside a trembling lip. He made up his mind.

“I want to try something,” Miguel said to you as he stilled his step.

It wasn’t often Miguel wanted to try something. Hell, he was happy to do anything you proposed and never really quipped in himself.

“Yeah?” You walked closer to him, standing in front of him now.

“What if I hunted you down?” He spoke gently, wrapping his arm around your waist as his free hand pushed the hair from your face.

“What? What do you mean?” You nuzzled your cheek into his hand, looking up at him with large eyes.

“Be my bunny, my love. And let me hunt you down.”

“Are you gonna eat me?” You spoke quietly, eyes wide as you saw Miguel's excitement increase as he looked down at you, grinning.

“Yes. If I catch I’m going to eat you.” His hand trailed from your waist down to your ass, squeezing the mass in his hand.

"But you have to fight me, bunny. You won't like what I'll do to you for me to eat you." He murmured as his hand trailed to gently wrap around your throat, not pressing, but sitting there. Threatening to squeeze at any moment.

You got the hint, and let the idea settle. Be hunted down? You never thought of that before. It’s Miguel, so how scary can it actually be? And yeah, you can fight a little, that's all part of the game… right? It must mean a lot to him if he took the time to ask you for it, so why not?

“Okay,” You nod and smile cheerfully at Miguel. His eyes filled with satisfaction before he grabbed you by the shoulder to turn your back to him.

“You’ve got 15 seconds to get in front of me, no using your spider abilities, mi amor” Miguel spoke into the shell of your ear.

Your heart quickened its pace in your chest as you stood in Miguel embrace. His hand over your mouth, the other gripping the base of your neck. His movements were so quick, you were stunned. The fear slowly developed in your stomach, making you feel nervous about the reality of what you had agreed to. It’s just Miguel, so you’ll be okay, right?

“If you can’t get away from me, you’ll see what happens.” He chuckled as he ran a hand down your breasts.

“Run, bunny.”

--- Back to Present ---

“Bunny, where did you run off to?” Miguel called out with a chuckle. He wanted to go easy on you, he really did, but he also wanted the prize. The sweet, delicious prize you’ll have to give to him.

No.

No.

You covered your mouth with both hands, trying to quiet your breath, horrified if he found you. You knew what was going to happen. And you hated yourself while you tried to rub your thighs together. The excitement ran down your spine, and you hated it.

Silence filled your senses as you failed to hear him. Had he left? Was it safe to keep venturing deeper into the woods? Or better yet, you should stay put in this spot and hope he never finds you. You slowly stand up from the crouched position you were in, eyes wide and alert, looking out from the tree you were hiding behind. You breathed quietly, stepping back a little, ready to venture deeper into the woods when you stumbled into something solid.

You panic, try to whip your head behind you to see what you stumbled into, but a hand finds its way around your jaw. Miguel's grip forced you to look up at him, seeing the gleam in his eye alongside his sadistic grin. He felt himself grow hard at the sight of pure fear in your face.

“M- Miggy...” You stammered, frozen in place.

“Oh my, bunny, I really tried to play fair. I really did.” His fake pouted at you as his voice reverberated against your back, sending chills down your spine. “But now it’s time to eat you.”

"Wai- no!" You squirmed from his grasp, trying to kick his knees, elbow his stomach, push him away from you, something! He grinned down at you, waiting patiently as he felt your futile attacks against him, staying perfectly still behind you as he took in every blow you gave him. Feeling you so weak beneath him only turned him on further, knowing how helpless and afraid you were.

His grip on your jaw moved your head to the side, exposing the side of your neck to him. He grabbed your body as he leaned down and bit into your flesh, causing you to scream. The stinging pain shot heat straight between your legs as you felt him lick and kiss where he had bitten you. You really weren’t supposed to like this. You're trying to make him stop, so why are you enjoying the pain?

He kept his grip on your jaw as you heard him unbuckle his belt. You knew it was going to happen, and now you had no choice. You felt the warmth in your stomach fight alongside the fear, your body at war with itself. You shouldn’t be turned on by this. This is sick. Really sick.

You were turned on by the idea of Miguel raping you.

In a few quick moves, he bound your arms behind your back with his belt. He kicked the back of your knees and made you buckle before he pushed your face down into the dirt. Your knees screamed in pain as all sorts of sharp edges cut into your skin. This only helped the warmth spread down your body, your breath quickening as you looked back at Miguel. He was so much bigger than you, much stronger, and this fact made your body tremble.

“N-no. Wait. Don’t-“ you stammered, feeling his talons find their way to your shorts and underwear, forcing them down your thighs, exposing your slick mess. He tore your shorts and panties away, using your own panties to stuff your mouth. Tears pricked your eyes as you were exposed to him, not able to fight back. The heat between your thighs only grew stronger.

Miguel chuckled at the sight of your wetness, unzipping his own pants before lining himself up behind you.

“I hope you like the pain.” He purred, rubbing his cock around in your slick, poking at your entrance. He was burning to be inside of you and abuse you so he could watch you cry.

In one slick move, he shoved himself inside, stretching you open. The pain was shocking, your body barely able to open up to the sudden stretch. No matter how many times you did it with him it always felt like your first time due to how fucking huge he is.

“Mmph!” You tried to negate him, to squirm away, to make him work harder for his prize, but he only pulled your hair and gripped your hips as he started to fuck you.

“Shut up, bunny. Take it.” He grunted as he let himself get lost in your tight cunt.

The pain faded away quickly, your own slick allowing him to abuse you further. Shame crushed your body as you let him fuck into you.

“What a slut, turned on by her boyfriend raping her.” He smacked your ass as he shoved his cock down to the base, balls slapping against your clit.

You tried to scream and push him away, but it was to no avail.

“I said, shut up!” Miguel growled and slapped your ass again. Over and over, he slapped you, the stinging pain causing you to flinch in pain from each blow.

You sobbed as you let him abuse your tight cunt, the sounds of your own body betraying you and turning you on further. The slickness of your cunt squelching against the treatment. You shouldn’t like being raped by your boyfriend. You should hate the feeling as his cock pushed against your cervix, making you whimper and squirm from the pleasure and pain. But you don’t hate it. In some twisted way, you loved the pleasure on the edge of pain, enveloping you. Feeling the pressure of his balls slap against your entrance, reminding you that you couldn't escape.

Miguel groaned as he got lost in the feeling of your body not fighting against him, letting him abuse you like it was meant for him. Letting his hips snap flush against yours, watching your tight cunt grip his cock. He lifted his foot up and pushed it down against your head, forcing your cheek into the dirt. This made you cry, the dirt digging into your flesh. The pressure of his boot on your head increased with every thrust. It hurt! It hurt! But the sensation was overpowered by Miguel's cock pushing so sweetly against your cervix.

You felt shame at the heat of your own orgasm creeping up on you, building up in your body. You weren’t actually going to cum from this, were you? There’s no way, right? You only continued to cry, the pain in your knees and the pleasure from your cunt mixing your senses together. Your cries muffled by the panties in your mouth, your drool slipping out.

"My poor baby is crying," Miguel cooed, "as if you weren't enjoying this," He laughed at you.

"Listen to yourself," He laughed as he pushed against your cervix, your slick running down your thighs. The sound of Miguel fucking into your sloppy, wet cunt was the only thing you could hear as the fire in your belly grew stronger. Why aren't you fighting back?

You continued to cry and drool as Miguel filled your senses. He was right, you are enjoying this. Enjoying being stretched by his thick cock over and over, your pussy betraying you as it wept with your slick, only allowing Miguel to snap his hips rougher. The fire in your belly finally snapped. You cried out and trembled as you squeezed against his cock. Your own body betrayed you, cumming hard from the rough treatment of Miguel's thrusts.

Miguel only laughed, snapping his hips into you harder, relishing in your cunt squeezing against your cock. Here you were, submitting to him, enjoying every bit of pain and pleasure he gave you. Exactly like he wanted to see you, stepping on you, watching the sight of your red ass bouncing against him as your cunt squeezed around him. The sight of your tears rolling down your cheek alongside the tightness of your cunt finally made him cum. Rope after rope of cum shooting deep inside of you, pushing against your bruised cervix.

You moaned at the warmth of being full, feeling Miguel give a few more thrusts as he let every last bit of his cum drip inside of you. You were spent, the force of your orgasm shook you to your core. You sniffled, drooling on the panties in your mouth, staring at Miguel from under his boot on your head. His chest rising and falling as he panted from the experience, looking down at your weak form under him. The both of you stayed like this for a moment, looking at each other, before Miguel finally slipped out from you. He took his foot off from your face, before unbinding your arms. He took the panties out of your mouth and laid you on your back, holding you. He kissed the tears from your cheeks, petting your hair gently.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked as he rubbed circles into your back.

“Yes,” you nodded quickly. “Oh my god. Yeah. I’m okay. I didn’t think…” you were at a loss for words. You only sniffled, staring at Miguel with red eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay. I got you. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Miguel took his own shirt off and used it to clean the mess between your thighs. He helped dress you, and dressed himself, before picking you up bridal style.

Slowly, he carried you out of the forest.

“Talk to me,” Miguel asked. Reality finally set in and he realized the gravity of his actions. He looked at the marks on your face from his boot, the bite mark on your neck, and the cuts on your knees.

“I’m okay, Miggy. That was really good. I didn’t think I’d actually get turned on from something like that.” You chuckled as you lay weakly against his chest. The struggle alongside the crying really tired you out, not to mention the orgasm that overtook you.

“Yeah. I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did either.” Miguel chuckled lightly.

You grabbed his cheek and made him look at you. He had a doubtful look in his eyes, so you kissed him.

“I’d let you hunt me down anytime, foxy. Except next time I get to wear pants.” You grinned as you pointed towards the cuts in your knees.

“Okay,” Miguel agreed before he kissed your forehead.

[meowiemari]

I will definitely have two comment feedbacks on this story. One because I only ever read it from what I remembered as Dissy was with Octavia and kicked her out, Two because I really want to read this to the fullest of begin to end. It’ll give me a reason to do two comments.

I remember did stumbling into DW but wasn’t ready to read it until I found out LD as a prequel and knew that I wanted to see how it’ll end for the two of them, so I decided to read DW.

From when I first read this, I was observing and watching how the Doctor progress and worked with his life. Most times I worried, sometimes I face palm over his actions but would smile over the positive ones, and honestly I would accidentally laugh at the ones where he’s an ass and then something ironic happens after, like the time Celestia threw him out of her castle. Sorry Dissy.

During the times he talks about his health, life, or his personal feelings and being, it made me feel understanding and relating to it. It was nice to read about Doctor and how’s he’s doing, so everyday I would check my tumblr to see the updates and head on to read the blog.

I would be laughing over the little funny moments happening, showing there’s a brighter side the the dark moments.

I was definitely not expecting to see moments like Derpy being shown again, Doctor admitting he was obsessed over her, Warden dying and shown that the both of them forgot they were siblings, seeing Neo again, Jack and Derpy interacting, and IMMEDIATELY Doctor not being the real one. It was a huge twist but how it’s explained made so much sense to why the truth was avoided and why it caused Doctor to turn discorded.

I wouldn’t want to wished anything different or say I would’ve wanted to story to end differently, cause I’ll admit there’s those times where I’m like “Dammit why this wouldn’t have to happen!!” But in the end I’m like “it’s not my story, it’s Jitters.” I even love the ending.

The fact that DW ended not as like “Happily Ever After, the end” but as “The end, and a new adventure begins for our new freind” kinda of story.

I definitely knew Coach was inspired from DW, but didn’t expect him to be The Doctor before his regeneration, so it was exciting seeing that. I love Coach even more than I have before, cause before he’s someone from the comic that I love to see his interactions with People, his kindness, the way he dotes on not only Suzie, but his daughter too (daughters when to think of Dinky and Sparkler), his love for life and not having any regrets, and the love he has for his wife.

Seeing who he was before, just made me love him even more. His whole having no regrets and living life to the fullest comes from his promise to his wife, who she said she has no regrets and lived a good life, and now wants her husband to keep the promise, and he still will. Coach is living life with no regrets. He’s still the loyal husband and father just like the old him. Now he’s his own person, which I really like.

This is me, but for Turner to have blue yes and Derpy yellow eyes, Coach’s eyes are green. And that to me the green hat is like the green tie but it’s more that he likes the hat. Just me enjoying the color resemblance.

I gotta be honest that Derpy is my favorite character, but not because she’s my mlp favorite or because she’s derpy. With how Jitters created his version of Ditzy do during lovestruck and Discorded Whooves, she’s the kind of person that will always be loyal to the ones she cares about, even going far as to hoping her freind will be okay and recover. This woman got hurt to the biggest and is strong to still stand by Doctor and help him. Her kindness and love is two of the best things that Jitters written for her character.

My favorite moment is when Doctor believed that because he’s not the real doctor, none of the people he cares about would ever care about him anymore, BUT THEN THEY STILL DO!!! I was crying like “Doc it’s not who you are that they love, it’s who you are to them.” Derpy didn’t love Doctor, she loves you. You have a bond with them that they hold dear.

This remind me of my close friend and it’s so sweet to hear this and be reminded that no matter what happens, your freinds are there for you. At that moment that’s not just best friends, that’s family.

I don’t believe I have a least favorite moment.

Overall I enjoyed the finale, and can’t wait to read DW from the beginning so I can do one of these again. I’ll definitely cry again, but it’ll be like those favorite comics you reread again thousands of times.

Thanks for the blog again Jitters!! And can’t wait for more of your projects!!!

Ask Discord Whooves has come to its conclusion, and that means the posts below this point contain major spoilers for the story! This post will also have the author's final comments below a 'read more' to avoid spoilers. In this commentary, I will talk about new details about the story, such as what the future looks like in this universe and clearing up some lore.

If you wish to read from the beginning, you can start from the first page here!

Or, if you were in the middle of reading and wish to start where you left off, go to the table of contents here!

Also for consideration, you can read the prequel blog @lovestruck-derpy and the side blog @askthetimemaster to get more insight on the story. It is recommended you read Lovestruck Derpy first, then Ask The Time Master after you've read Discord Whooves.

Other side blogs involved in the story that can be read after everything else for a little more insight are as follows:

@tantamount-time-turner @torchwoodv @valtavia

Thank you for being interested in the story, I hope you enjoy your read!

!!AUTHOR FINAL COMMENTS BELOW!!

It would be appreciated if people who have read the blog to its end read this post and give their input on the overall story via comment or reblog, or sending the author @jitterbugjive a comment via ask or submission.

Surprise, everyone! Coach is The Doctor's next life!

This was the original plan from the very start of when I made Coach. Look, here's some proof, the plush I had commissioned of him has a cutie mark!

For those who don't know who (Pony) Coach is, you can read a bunch of asks sent to him here and get to know him, and for those who do know him you can re-read with context:

[Coach at The-Character-Lounge]

Now, I know I've moved on and made Coach a human and his own character for my current main project, My Magic Grandpa, but that was because I loved him as a character so much that I couldn't just end him after Discord Whooves.

He and his Granddaughter Suzie have paranormal fantasy adventures in the 90s starting in Oregon. You can read the comic which has been updating for 4 years here: http://www.mymagicgrandpa.com OR http://www.mymagicgrandpa.net for better phone viewing.

If you want more Doctor Whooves content from me, consider following the youtube series "Doctor Whooves and Assistant", where I am the head writer and voice actor for Derpy. It is still active and hopefully will be for quite some time.

I also want people to know about three more of my original projects,”Bedeviled Dotty” ( @bedeviled-dotty), “Once Upon a Calamity” ( @nightmaretales) and “WTF? I’m a Magical Girl’s Familiar?!” (@magicalgirlsfamiliar) Two of which I want to start updating in 2024 and one that's been updating for a few years now.

OUAC has been around for a very long time, it’s a collection of familiar but twisted fairy tales and it has been on hiatus for years because of my other projects taking priority. I'm excited to be bringing it back.

WTF?MGF meanwhile is an adult dark comedy magical girl comic combined with an apocalyptic outbreak scenario. Its pilot will launch in January of 2024 and the comic will begin properly in 2025.

“Bedeviled Dotty” has been going for a few years now, and is a story about a magical anthro rabbit who makes a deal with a kitsune in order to obtain the love of her professor.

I highly encourage people to check them out!

Now about The Doctor version of Coach! When he first regenerated, he was ecstatic to have a small nose!

Not only that but he had a new appreciation for life and took on a life to the fullest attitude. He also cast away the identity of 'The Doctor', letting himself become his own as 'Coach' because he considers himself a referee to the universe and a sort of life coach to whoever he encounters. (Those that can stand him of course) He loves interacting with others, but he can be impatient and snippy at times and quite pushy without meaning to. He also has a hard time reading others' emotions, and can only think in context of how he would feel. This is because in this life he has something akin to ASD that he's unaware of, and it's a huge challenge for him because of how much he wants to help and entertain others.

He likes to use sports words and phrases in his vocabulary, which would be his quirk. He also collects sports equipment and uses them for experiments and inventions, though he doesn't really like sports themselves.

One of the last things Derpy said to him before she died was that she had no regrets, and neither should he. So in his next life, as Coach, he took this very seriously and is always moving forward with no regrets. This can make him seem heartless at times because of how easily he leaves things behind, but he always needs to be on the move and needs to change things up because he's teaming with chaos magic.

That's right, the chaos energy stayed with him, but it manifested in a more controllable form because he became a unicorn. He can't use normal unicorn spells, a lot of his magic has a mind of its own. It will often do as asked, but it will do it in random ways. 'Open a locked door' for example could mean unlocking the door, or turning the door into popcorn. One of his first magic mishaps was transmogrifying his sonic screwdriver into a golf club. It still functions the same, just has a different shape now.

Coach spent about 60 years exploring on his own and taking on temporary companions that he'd keep a distance from so chances of anything bad happening to them would be less. But he eventually longs to see his Grandaughter, Tootsie Flute, and wants to take her on adventures with him, feeling like it would be a good do-over from the old Doctor's life. He fondly calls her Suzie because of reminiscing about the memories of Susan from the 1st Doctor days. While Suzie is often exasperated with him, she is also fascinated with him and the things he shows her. She has to keep their adventures a secret though, because Coach is scared to face his old family again and disappoint them. He doesn't want to see them without being able to understand them any more, it would break his hearts.

In order to take Suzie on adventures with him, they find a rogue changeling to replace her at home.

Speaking of changelings, he keeps in contact with [Tantamount Doctor], who has since started his own hive and is now a Royal. He gets much adored offerings of cheese from Coach.

The Doctor also never really felt like there was a right time to approach The Master’s daughter, Eighth Note. He kept feeling like it would ruin her otherwise good life to introduce her to time and space like that. She grew up to be a nurse in a maternity ward, her beautiful voice soothing babies as she would sing to them. Perhaps she has a little hypnotic influence from her father?

But Coach meanwhile with his no regrets attitude charged right in to take her on as a temporary companion to show her the ropes of being a Time Lord and having a TARDIS of her own. Needless to say, she’s trouble for Coach, as she can be a huge tease and she enjoys flustering the poor guy who just doesn’t want the Master to come back from the grave to kill him. It’s all in good fun for her and never serious, though, so nothing of an intimate nature really happens between them.

Finally, whenever Coach regenerated which wouldn't be for a long time, it would be because the chaos magic would become too unstable and the only way he can stay alive is to regenerate into a draconequus. Which gives us -drumroll-

Pandemonium!

Pandemonium is on the chaotic good alignment and he finds a way to bring back Gallopfrey and allow the true pony Doctor and Master to exist. He playfully antagonizes them and tries to keep them on a good path as best he can.

And that's pretty much how the whole thing ends!

When I started Discord Whooves, I was in a pretty dark place. I was bitter, angry, feeling like I had to fill peoples' expectations without really having anything special of my own. Discord Whooves started as a vent blog because A. The Brony fandom's constant pressure on me as a well known voice actor for Derpy, which made me bitter about her, B. Because I was upset I was getting known more for my voice than my main talent, drawing, on top of feeling dysphoric about my feminine voice, and C. The expectations that were on me reflected on how I acted, and I wanted to do something dark without my old name attached to it to prove I could do something interesting besides PG rated radio plays. I gained a lot more popularity than I thought I ever would, and had so much support, and as JitterbugJive I got to be myself without any expectations. It helped me come out eventually not only as BaldDumboRat, but as a transgender male.

Popularity sadly got to my head, it caused a lot of stress and a lot of outbursts and when I started my mod blog I was a very calm person who brushed things off. But more and more people started to pick fights with me and I felt the need to defend myself. This was also during a time I made another vent blog that was for dealing with the abuse I'd been through in the past, so I was facing a lot of demons at the time and could be triggered easily.

And then I had my bi-polar manic episode that made me literally insane for months, which threw me in to a year long depression that destroyed my art for a good while (It looked really really awful during that time, a lot of people noticed it) but the good thing about it was that it got me in touch with a therapist and got me diagnosed not only bi-polar 1 but PTSD, which was a shock to me but it made a lot of sense. I got a PTSD service dog, anxiety medication, bi-polar medication, and while the year of depression sucked I slowly got to pull myself back together and reflect on who I'd been. With anxiety meds I wasn't getting as angry any more, and therapy was helping me properly cope with the past and with the popularity issues. I wanted to be a better person, and I became one.

I even decided to take on a career path where I could help other people like me and like Discord Doctor, becoming a peer wellness specialist to help those experiencing mental illness and addiction. I use my own experiences to connect with them, give them hope, and show them they are not alone and there are people who do understand what they're going through who will help them. The training I went through ended up changing a lot of aspects of how Discord Whooves was treated moving forward, giving him a more realistic journey and showing people a very true message of hope and recovery. And the only reason I'm where I am now is because of experiencing that first psychotic episode that made me reach out for help.

I had two psychotic episodes in the span of Discord Whooves’ run, and they gave me a first hand experience of what it’s like to completely lose control of your own actions. I hurt people, I caused a lot of damage, and I had to face the consequences of those actions. And because of this, I had personal knowledge of what it’s like to come out of such a horrible state, and all the guilt and fear that comes with it. The Doctor’s journey suddenly became so much more personal to me, because I’d been there. And his journey of recovery is to show that despite everything, there’s still hope. Recovery is possible.

Something else my mania did was lead me to the idea of My Magic Grandpa, because my head came up with so many crazy ideas that I wanted to use and I was looking for a lot of inspiration during my depression that it all started coming together. And thus Coach and Suzie evolved into humans in their own story, because I didn't entirely want Discord Whooves to end where Coach and Suzie only just begins. And now they can continue on in their own way, in my own way, and I can let go of a blog about depression and anger and instead make a story about growth and inspiration.

In a way, it's like I regenerated with The Doctor, and I hope people can appreciate that and continue to support me.

I want to thank all the people who have worked with me on this project, be it for crossover, to contribute guest art, to Warden and Lauren and a handful of other people who helped me write the story and brought fantastic characters into it. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you, and the story would be in a much worse place now if it weren’t for everyone’s help.

Thank you all for staying with me on this 12 year journey. Looking back, I've made some dumb mistakes, but I learned a lot from them and your dedication helped me stick to my guns and end my first large scale project! It hit some bumps but dammit I made it happen and I am so happy I did! Now I hope people will check out my other projects that were linked above. I will still produce pony content on @the-character-lounge on occasion when I have the time and motivation.

I want to continue to bring everyone compelling stories that will tug at their emotions, and I don't plan on disappearing. So if you want to continue this journey with me, to see what Coach and Suzie have evolved into, please give my other works a follow!

Thank you, everyone! Your comments on this post in particular would be greatly appreciated! What did you think of the story as a whole? What do you think of Coach being the Doctor’s new life? Are there things you were expecting or wished would be different? How would you have ended the story? Did you enjoy the finale? Did you have a theory that Coach was The Doctor? Who was your favorite character? Favorite moment? Least favorite moment? I want to know! Please talk about it!

[shotorozu]

ok ok last one for the day.

katsuki and izuku midoriya are the hottest couple in pro hero hollywood. or they would be if they would stop fucking with people in public.

like yeah, they're everybody's dream guys, but instead seeing them as dreams, they're constantly prancing around being the japanese equivalents of martin freeman and anthony mackie.

reporter: so deku can you tell us why it took you so long to apprehend the vilain this morning?

deku: well we chased him so hard that he ate shit and after catching him me and kacchan spent 37 minutes and 43 seconds laughing in his face.

reporter: *so done with these fucking losers* thank you, deku. please keep doing your best.

deku: *literally smiling like a ray of light* of course!

bakugou: *just coming back from chatting with cops* did you tell the dude how that extra ate shit.

reporter, while deku and bakugou start dying laughing again: *tiredly* this has been the news.

i don’t necessarily ship them but this is funny LMAO

like separately— reporters and everyone in PR like them just fine. bakugou? he definitely had a colorful vocabulary, but hey, when reporters ask him the really interesting questions, he’ll deliver on the answers. (but ngl getting interesting questions from reporters are rare for bakugou since reporters kinda ask him the same (ex: you took down that villain today, yes? you were in top speed, did you break your record in villain takedowns?) but again i kinda don’t blame him that man is something else 😭 /lh)

as for izuku, he’s either a heaven sent or kind of a mess 💀 again, the reporters like him more than bakugou because of how nice and sunshine-y he is. it’s definitely a nice break from getting lambasted /hj

(at the same time, he’s so authentic it hurts 😨 and i mean it in the way that he’ll give a really detailed answer in such a short amount of time AND sometimes he’ll go off track but its okay because he’s the number 1 hero, right 😃 but it’s still kind of hell for reporters because they gotta think of a quick and witty response 😭 poor them sometimes 💀)

but put those two together 😭 romantically or platonically— they’d be every reporter’s (and also every pr employee’s) worse nightmare because 😭😭 they’re a mess together whether they realize it or not and even when they do realize it it kinda gets messier but hey! the memes

like there’s this one comic i saw of izuku giving a response in an interview and bakugou just runs into the frame and screams at him randomly— and izuku laughs, being alarmed 😭 (it was also based off an actual interview, though idk which one ☹️💀) and i think that’s pretty accurate. they’re so chaotic in media.

but this is absolute hell when they actually need to be professional and serious 💀 both of their pr teams are always this 🤏 close to just crying on the floor that one midsommar scene style every time they’re supposed to be giving a professional-yet-authentic response to reporters, and even press conferences because it’s almost impossible when those two are in the same frame istg

[seiyasabi]

Bulls in the Bronx

(So…. long story short, I’m now a hucow simp. Thanks a lot @/biskywrites and @/dark-side-blog2 for making me this way (ﾉД`) lol, all jokes aside, I wanna suck some tiddy milk from a buff man ;)) Anyways, this is Yandere Hucow(Hubull?) Bokuto x Fem Reader ;0 This fic allows me to flex my farming knowledge lol, bc my grandparents owned ponies and dogs. 

TW: !Noncon!, !dubcon!, creampie!, he hits you twice!, somnophilia!, predator vs prey?, manipulation!, cumflation!, breeding kink!, size kink!, ur a farmhand!, lactation!, tiddie sucking!, Asshole farmer Ushi, etc.. 

Please don’t proceed if any of the above are triggering! Also, sorry if Bokuto is too OOC lol) 

“Bokuto got into the lackweed again,” You can’t suppress the laugh that explodes from your mouth. The idea of the biggest hucow (hubull??) on the ranch freaking out (again), because he’s now dripping milk is hilarious. 

“Where on Earth does he keep finding those damn weeds?” The other farmhand laughs as well, stooping down to fill two buckets with water. 

“I think those grass seeds were cross contaminated, the other hucows also started to lactate a lot more than usual. But, it’s kinda funny that our best breeder is dripping like a heifer,” Chuckling in acknowledgement, you can’t help but feel a pang of pity. Poor Bo, he’s probably really self conscious at the moment. 

“Maybe I should go check on him-” Your coworker almost drops the bucket she’s filling, looking up at you as if you just grew three heads. 

“Why would you do that? Did you forget that he’s going in rut soon?” Frowning, you glance down at the floor in mild shame. 

“Well, yes, but he isn’t supposed to start until next week! Plus, I’m not ovulating right now, so I won’t trigger him,” The other girl thinks for a moment, before nodding slowly. 

“I suppose it’d be fine. If anything, he may calm down if his favourite handler is there,” Nodding, you grab two buckets from the shelf beside you. Squatting down next to your coworker, you place a bucket underneath a faucet, turning the circular handle to the left. A gush of cool water rushes out, quickly filling the plastic pail. Quickly switching it out for the empty one, you wait a few more moments, before turning off the rushing water. Grabbing the handles of the buckets, you lift them whilst standing to your feet, using your legs instead of your back. 

Nodding towards the other girl, you bid her farewell. Turning on your heel, you tromp towards the bull pens. The large red barn is quite a far distance from the shed you were once in, causing you to break out in a light sweat. It doesn’t help that it’s mid spring, causing the farm to be quite warm. 

Setting the buckets down on the dirt ground, you wipe your brow with the back of your hand. Huffing out a deep breath, you quickly move the concrete slab keeping the barn closed away from the sliding door, before shoving it open. The sound of the cowbell on the red and white door handle on the inside clinks noisily, queuing a symphony of deep ‘moos.’ 

Picking up the buckets with bent knees, you hurry inside, relishing the feeling of the barn’s fans on your sweaty skin, “Hey guys, is the barn cool enough for you?” Grumbles and shifting of large bodies are all you get in response, causing you to laugh, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Gunning it for a certain grey haired bull’s stall, a bright smile makes its way onto your face, “Hey, Koutarou, how’re you feeling?” 

He’s currently laying on his bed of compact hay, tears sliding down his handsome face. His cute ears are droopy, his bell earring not jingling with life like normal. His tears drip between his septum piercing, and drop onto his well defined abdomen, “Not good, (Your Name).” 

With a small gasp, you set down the pails rather harshly, some of the cool liquid sloshing onto the wooden floor. Hurrying towards him, you sit on the prickly ‘mattress,’ “What’s wrong? I heard that you’re lac-” A small sob leaves his lips at your words, causing you to grab his hand reassuringly, “Are the other guys making fun of you? I can go yell at them if you’d like!” 

The buff bull-man sits up, one arm covering his chest self-consciously, “No! They’re not being mean,” He grips your hand almost to the point that it’s painful, “I-it’s just… my chest hurts, real bad.”

Nodding in understanding, you motion towards his covered pecs, “Let me see, Bubs. I’ll see what I can do.”

His face flushes bright red, “But it’s embarrassing!” You shush him sweetly, releasing his hand to coax his arm away from his chest. 

“It’s okay, I won’t make fun of you! I just wanna help you,” After a moment of hesitance, he obeys, revealing his swollen, red nipples. 

The area around his nipples is raised as well, showing just how much his milk is backed up. 

Eyes softening even more, you delicately rub both pecs, “You’re alright, Bubs. This happens to the cows sometimes when we don’t milk them as much as we need to. If you’d like, I can go find a pump!”

“No! I don’t wanna pump!” You jump slightly, and move away from him, only for his hands to trap your own to his chest. More tears gather in his eyes, as he becomes distraught, “I don’t want my milk to go to waste!” 

Taken aback, you nod, although you don’t understand his reasoning, “Kou, why’re you acting like this? You know we don’t get rid of milk, we sell your guys’ milk at the market.” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t want you to sell it. I want you to drink it,” The look of shock on your face is mistaken as disgust, causing him to cry even more, “Do you think I’m weird? Why do you look like that?” Seeing the bull act so sensitive is adorable, but you feel as though you have to comfort him.

“No, no, it’s okay! I’m not weirded out, I’m just surprised. I’ll go get a bucket-”

“No bucket!” Sighing at his weird behaviour, you cock an eyebrow at him. 

“Then how am I supposed to collect it?” A big grin crosses his teary face. 

“Drink from me! I promise I’ll be good!” Shifting in discomfort, an anxious sweat starts to form on your brow. 

“Ahaha, that’s funny, Kou. You know I can’t do that,” More tears well up in his eyes, squeezing your heart painfully, “Don’t look at me like that, Bubs. I don’t think your owner would like me getting so close-” 

“I don’t mind,” Ushijima’s voice booms throughout the barn, scaring the living daylights out of you. Whipping your head around, you make eye contact with the large male, an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, “As long as my star bull is happy, I’m happy.”

Kou releases your hands, only to grab your face, forcing you to look at him, “See! He doesn’t care! Please, (Nickname), please help me! My udders hurt so bad!” 

With Ushijima’s eyes on you, and Koutarou’s sad and pain filled face, you finally relent, “Okay, okay! Don’t freak out, Bubs, I’ll help. You just gotta let me go.” 

He releases you quickly, before shoving your head towards his chest. The jingling of his earring is heard, telling you that his ears are no longer pressed down on the top of his head. You hear heavy footsteps walk away from his stall, probably gathering the bulls to let them graze outside. 

You try to push away from where your head is being smushed, but the bull gives you no leeway, “Why aren’t you drinking?” The male practically whines, as you whack his shoulder lightly. 

“I’m being smothered in between your tiddies, Kou,” You chuckle in slight discomfort, but he finally allows you up. Moving towards his most swollen nipple (the left one), you pinch it between your thumb and forefinger, causing a small stream of milk to come streaming out. 

A small moan leaves the large man’s lips, as he shoves you once again face first into his chest, “Don’t tease, (Nickname), I feel like I’m dying!” A flash of empathy goes through your heart. 

Removing your hand from his nipple, you take a deep breath, and latch yourself onto him.Your chapstick covered lips are soft against his sensitive skin, causing him to keen. When you suckle, a tidal wave of milk bursts into your mouth. Luckily, it doesn’t taste very bad; his milk tastes like vanilla, causing you start to slurp it up like a babe. 

Your one hand kneads his other pec to soothe him, “Fu-fuck, you’re making me feel so good!” You don’t bother trying to say anything, instead, you just suck harder. Your unoccupied hand squeezes his tit that you’re currently nursing on, causing him to pump out more of his yummy milk. 

After a few long moments, you release his nipple. A drop of milk trickles down your chin, which the large bull laughs at. A thick finger wipes off the excess, pushing itself into your mouth. A tender look is in the grey haired man’s eyes, as he kisses your forehead. 

“Thank you, pretty girl. Can you do the other one, please?” Now that he’s no longer in a painfilled state, he’s back to his normal, boyish self. Nodding, you lick your lips, before latching on to his other nipple. He barely chokes back a moan, his hand gripping the back of your head. 

You suck as hard as you can without hurting him, pretending his nipple was a straw to a thick ass milkshake. Between your massaging and sucking, his teat no longer feels as painful as it once did. 

Pulling away, you give him a wry smile, “There, all better. Well, I should pour your water into your trough now,” Standing up with wobbly legs, you move towards the filled buckets. Picking them up one by one, you pour it in with unsteady hands. Why are you so shaky right now? “Well, I should get going now. I hope you feel better later,” You try to walk out of his stall, only to be yanked back into Bokuto’s lap. Both empty pails fall to the ground unceremoniously, clattering loudly through the empty barn. 

“Don’t leave me, Lovely, I need you,” His warm skin against yours feels nice, and you suddenly feel sleepy. 

“Kou, I’m tired. I think-I think I’m gonna take a nap,” He runs his fingers (through your hair/over your scalp), tantalising you into drifting off. 

“That’s alright, (Nickname), I’ll watch after you,” With a muffled ‘Mhm,’ you fall into a deep slumber. 

-

When you awoke, you woke to your body shaking. Brow furrowing, you blearily open your eyes, only to see a tuft of grey hair in between your bent, spread legs. 

His long tongue is currently fucking in and out of your dripping cunt, his thumb rubbing against your clit. 

“Ku-Kou? Wha-“ He looks up immediately, a look of shock on his strong features. 

“I-It’s Not what it looks like! I-I just wanted a taste!” You groggily push at his head, catching his ears slightly, causing a small jingling to sound throughout the empty barn. 

“You didn’t ask, why, why are you-“ He grabs your hand, kissing each knuckle with a slobbering kiss. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Let me make you feel good! You taste so good,” You yank your hand back, trying to kick off the hand that currently wrapped around your right thigh. 

“Get off of me! Bokuto, you-you’re doing this without my consent! I thought we were friends!” You shout, pushing at his face harshly. He grabs one of your hands, trying to kiss it, only for your other to clap him upside the face harshly, “Don’t! You’ve already done enough.” 

Kicking him away (even though he’s much larger and stronger than you, meaning he just moved away), you stand to your feet, pulling back up your halfway down jeans and panties. 

Snatching up the buckets previously discarded, you don’t even shoot the crying bull a glance, just turning on your heel, and stomping away. 

Tears of your own drip down your face, humiliation and betrayal weighing down your aching heart. 

Forcefully sliding open the barn doors, you run from it, catching the eye of a certain green haired farmer. 

It seems Bokuto fucked up. 

But that’s okay, when he goes into rut, there’ll be nothing keeping him from breeding you full of his massive calves. 

-

You avoided the bull barn like the plague for the next week. The hucows are very pleasant company. They treat you as if you’re their young, making you feel well loved. 

That is, until Hachi asked you why you’ve been avoiding Bokuto. She’d told you that he hasn’t acted the same, in fact, he’s acted depressed and withdrawn. 

Since then, you’ve stuck with aquatic life. The fish, swans, and ducks don’t give you that much trouble. 

But, when you come back from the pond and fish pools, the farm is ensued with panic. Apparently, Bokuto’s finally gone into rut. 

And, unfortunately for you, he’s on the prowl for you. 

So, when your coworker runs up to you, begging for you to calm him, you turn on your heel, and start walking back towards the pond. They can figure this out themselves, you’re not going to sacrifice yourself to someone who tried to take advantage of you. 

Sadly, that doesn’t work out. 

You’re immediately stopped by Ushijima, his broad form blocking you from advancing forward, “Where do you think you’re going?” His arms are crossed, an angry scowl on his usually handsome features. 

“I forgot something at the pond,” You lie, smoothly, “I’m going to go grab it real quick-” 

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” His strong voice booms, “What you’re going to do, is march yourself into the barn, and make my prized bull happy.” 

Your own scowl forms on your pretty face, “I will do nothing of the sort. Interspecies sex is illegal! You can fire me for all I care, I’m not going in there!” You try to move around his large form, only to be manhandled into a chokehold.

His left arm is wrapped around your neck, your back to his chest, and your face being held in a large hand, “Interspecies sex is legal when a human and hybrid are mates,” He hisses through gritted teeth, and you struggle in his hold, “If you don’t go in there, I’ll drag you in.” 

“Fuck you,” You spit, “I’ll fucking castrate you!” You kick backwards, landing a solid hit on the large man’s groin. With a loud yell, you’re let go, allowing you to run towards the farm’s parking area. Pulling your truck’s keys from your pocket, you haul ass, not bothering to look behind you. 

The barns and sheds fly past you, as you run through the open field leading to the car park. You suddenly hear loud footsteps follow after you, and you assume that it’s Ushijima, that is, until you hear them, “(Nickname)! (Nickname), where are you going? Why are you running away from me?” Bokuto’s voice rings out at top volume, hurting your ears. His voice a lot more gravely than before, and without looking at him, you know that he most likely looks crazed. 

You don’t respond, trying to pick up the pace. You click the unlock button one time, only unlocking the driver’s side door. Because you had a head start, you cleared the field in less than three seconds, allowing you to hop into your truck, and lock the doors. Shoving the key into the ignition, all whilst buckling your seatbelt, you press on the brake, and turn it, only to hear the spluttering of your failing ignition, “Come on! Don’t do this-” Bokuto slams into the driver’s side door at top speed, rocking your large vehicle harshly. His hands and face are pressed against the window, his expression looking like that of a kicked puppy. You then notice the fact that the buff male is completely naked, his impossibly large cock bobbing against his toned stomach. 

“Why are you trying to leave? I need you so badly, pretty-pretty. Why don’t you open the door, and we can figure this out? I promise I’ll make you feel good, after all, us bulls pride ourselves in taking care of our mates,” You cringe in disgust, not bothering to answer him. Instead, you continue to fiddle with your ignition, muttering expletives under your breath. His large hands start to beat on your driver-side window, trying to gain your attention, “(Nickname), come out already! Ushi already cut your fuel line, so you’re not going anywhere! Come on, I just wanna make you feel good-”

It was your turn to cut him off, “Shut up! We aren’t friends anymore, Bokuto, much less lovers! Just leave me the fuck alone! I’m sure many of the cows would love to help you through your rut, why can’t you just ask them?” Tears of frustration dot your eyelashes, as you pop open your glove box and search for your phone. Catching sight of the black cased (phone type), you snatch it from its confines with a loud ‘Aha,’ “Don’t make me call the Farmer’s Union, Bokuto. I’ll report you and Ushijima for-”

“You won’t! You love me too much!” His frantic words raise in volume, as he hit the glass even harder than before, “You wouldn’t put me down! Come on, (Nickname), why won’t you call me ‘Bubs’ anymore? I love you!” You swipe open your phone, and go to the contacts. Pulling up the Farmer’s Union phone number, you go to press ‘call,’ only for the shattering of glass to halt you. 

You scream in both fear and shock, throwing up your hands to protect your face. This, in turn, causes you to drop your phone. In this time, Bokuto is able to grab you by your arms, and drag you towards the broken window. Your seatbelt keeps you in place, causing him to pull you even harder, and making you scream in pain. 

You use your arm to whack his against the broken glass on your truck’s window area. He releases you in a moment of pain, allowing you to unbuckle yourself, and throw yourself to the passenger side. Once there, you unlock the door, and bolt towards the road. 

“(Your Name), come back here! Stop being so difficult!” You pay him no mind, a few meters away from the busy road. Noticing a car speeding towards the area you’re running to, you push yourself even harder, trying to throw yourself into the road. Unfortunately, you’re grabbed by two buff arms that encircle your waist. They use all of their strength to smash you into their chest from behind, knocking the air from your lungs, “Are you crazy? You could’ve been hurt!” You thrash and try to bite at him, causing Bokuto to backhand you across the face, “Now look what you made me do! If you’d been good, I wouldn’t have had to do that!”

To be completely honest, you’re in shock. Bokuto has never raised a hand at you, and that slap wasn’t a warning tap. No, that was him using a good majority of his strength, causing your cheek to throb painfully. 

You continue to thrash and curse after freezing for a moment, drawing the eyes of concerned coworkers, “Let go of me! What the fuck is wrong with you? Put me down!” You try to kick him in the junk, only to kick him on the inside of his thigh. In retaliation, he backhands you again, this time on the other cheek. Gasps and whispers are heard from those around you, drawing the large hucow’s eyes. 

“There’s nothing to see here, guys! Just my mate making a scene,” He shakes you a bit to shut you up, causing you to become disoriented. The farmhands and other hybrids look like they’re about to step in, only for Ushijima himself to show up. 

“What Bokuto said is correct,” His harsh gaze is on you, his hand gripping his dick, “She’s just making a scene. Let them through.”

They reluctantly go back to their business, as Koutarou guns it to the empty bull barn. Ushijima only watches as you’re dragged to the large building, as tears drip down your face in fear, and his fist at his side clenches in fury.

Stomping into the barn, Bokuto makes quick work of getting to his stall. Once inside, he tosses you on the hay mattress, and straddles your waist. With pawing hands, he rips your t-shirt and jeans off of you, leaving you in your bra and underwear, along with your boots and socks. Yanking off your boots, be tossed them out of his ‘room,’ as you try to throw punches at his muscular chest. He grunts, but doesn’t stop. 

With beefy fingers, he yanks off your bra, ripping it in two. Your tits jiggle at his harsh movements, making him lick his lips in enjoyment. He then rips off your cotton panties, exposing your cunny to his hungry eyes. 

“You’re beautiful, pretty-pretty. I can’t wait to see you stuffed with my calves,” You shake your head no rapidly, pushing his hands away from where they rest on your hips. 

“No! Stop it, Bokuto! I thought we were friends!” He tightens his grip on your pelvis, forcing your legs open. 

“That’s Not my name, (Nickname), you know that. Now, you know that I’m way more than just your friend-I’m your mate, and you know that I’ll provide for you and our calves,” With grubby fingers, he rubs at your clit, trying to draw a good reaction from you.

You squirm in response, trying to wriggle out of his one handed grip. You shove at his chest, but he remains unmoved, choosing to press down harder than before, “Stop it! Let me go!” 

He inserts his middle finger into your moist cunny, forcing it in and out. You try to kick him in the head only for him to catch your leg with the hand that previously held your hip, “If you wanted me to eat you out that bad, you should’ve just said so, pretty girl,” Before you can refuse, he throws your legs over his shoulders, and dives in. 

His long tongue fucks in and out of your hole, one of his thumbs rubbing your clit. A loud whine escapes your throat before you can stop it, making you feel a wave of disgust for yourself. Bokuto shouldn’t be making you feel good, he’s assaulting you, after all. 

But, when his tongue brushed against your g-spot, you can’t help but convulse in pleasure. Thighs quaking, you try to stop yourself from cumming. 

“St-stop! I���m, I’m gonna-“ He stops before you can cum, instead, pushing your hips down to where his cock lays against his abs. Forcing the bulbous head against your tiny hole, he pushes harshly, trying to fuck into you like an animal, “No! No! You’re too big! You’re going to tear my-“ With one powerful thrust, he forces his way inside, and you can’t help but scream. 

Tears drip down your face at the feeling, your pussy feeling like it’s been ripped open. Bokuto grabs your head, and forces it against his chest, practically making you take one of his pink nipples into your mouth. You’re immediately met with the taste of his vanilla milk, drinking it up as the hucow starts to buck into you at a lightning fast pace. 

Your teeth bite down on his nipple, but instead of being angry, he just moans in lust, “Yes! Yes, pretty girl, you’re taking me so well!” 

His hand that isn’t cradling your head goes to your tummy, feeling his huge length moving underneath your skin. He presses down a bit, causing another wanton moan to leave to both of you. With this thought in mind, he picks up the pace, practically fucking you into unconsciousness. 

Eyes rolling back, your ruined cunny gushed pathetically, coating you and the bull with your juices, “(Nickname), you’re so pretty when you cum,” He continues his breakneck pace, getting close to orgasm himself, “I’m gonna fill you up so good, that you’ll be dripping with my fun for days! Your little womb will be bloated with my fertile cum!” 

You try to speak, but you can’t, just continuing to suck his yummy milk from his teat. Walls fluttering with another orgasm, you feel yourself clamping down on his enormous cock. 

With one last mighty thrust, he seats himself fully inside of you, cumming directly against your unprotected cervix. A muffled scream erupts from your chest, as you feel your womb expand with copious amounts of beeile cum. Releasing his nipple, you throw your head back, a loud cry echoes throughout the barn, as you squirt once more around his cock. 

Now completely filled to the brim, you pass out from the trauma. Entirely exhausted, Koutarou grins down at your bloated form. He rubs your tummy like a Buddha statue, kissing it tenderly. 

“You’ll be a good Mommy, I’m sure of it,” he then trails his hand up your abdomen, groping your right tit, “You’ll look so pretty all milky and filled with my calves.” 

The sound of a throat clearing gains Bokuto’s attention, as he practically throws his naked body over yours. A loud ‘moo’ of warning escapes his chest, even when he notices that the person is just Ushijima. 

“I see that she mates with you well,” His eyes trail over your sleeping face, not straying downwards, “I hope this means that you’ll enter more shows.” 

Bo smiles, “Yes. Now I need to show off, so my mate thinks I’m an eligible male.” 

Nodding, Ushijima turns on his heal, making his way to leave the barn, “I hope your children take after you in strength. (Your Name) is a lot prettier than you are, so maybe they’ll be pleasing to the eye as well.” 

Snorting, the grey haired man’s ears twitch, jingling throughout the room, “You bet she is. She’s perfect.” 

[honeypiehotchner]

Don’t You (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two of Bye Bye, Baby

I love how this mini-series was totally impromptu but happened so fast. Gotta love my brain!

Loosely based on “Don’t You” by Taylor Swift! xx.

Summary: Aaron wants to talk. Do you?

Warnings: ANGST

Word Count: 2k this time oop

Bye Bye, Baby (Part One) || That’s When (Part Three) || Hotch Masterlist

Hey/I knew I’d run into you somewhere/It’s been a while

The text message from Aaron has sat glaring at you on your phone screen for the past hour.

Hotch (BAU) Sorry for hitting you with my cart earlier.

You don’t know what to make of it. It’s obviously an attempt to start up a conversation after four years, but why? Why, after all this time, does he think this is okay?

It’s 1 a.m. when you call Dannie.

“I would tell you to go to sleep, but I just got in bed, so I can’t talk.”

You chuckle quietly. “Better than me. I’m still on the couch.”

Dannie exhales. “Did Jules stay up late again?”

“No, no, she… She passed out around nine.”

Dannie sighs. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I saw Aaron today,” you blurt, quietly, not wanting to risk Juliet hearing even a whisper of this.

“Aaron?” Dannie asks. “Like...Juliet’s dad, Aaron? That one?”

“Yep,” you mutter, rubbing your forehead. “The one and only.”

“Where?”

“The grocery store,” you say. “Our carts bumped into each other. I wasn’t watching where I was going, so it was definitely my fault, but he texted me a while ago apologizing for it.”

“Woah, he texted you?”

“Unfortunately,” you murmur, hating that you feel tears pricking at your eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you texted him back?”

“I don’t know if I want to.”

“I understand,” Dannie sighs. “Maybe just say it’s okay? Leave it short.”

“Yeah,” you nod, sniffling, wiping a tear away. “God, I’ve been fine all evening and it just...hit me when I saw his text.”

“You had to keep it together for Jules,” Dannie reminds you. “What did she say about him?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say. “She really wanted cookies, so she was focused on getting vegetables for dinner so she could have them.”

Dannie laughs. “That sounds like her. Did she eat all her vegetables?”

“Even the broccoli,” you grin. “So she got an extra cookie.”

The two of you laugh lightly, letting the silence settle.

“What do I do if he wants to get to know her?” You break the silence with the one question that’s been on your mind all night. “I mean, he’s a profiler. There’s no way he doesn’t know she’s his.”

“Okay, first of all, she’s yours,” Dannie says firmly. “Second, it’s all up to you. And her. If she wants to get to know him, then ultimately it’s up to you to decide if that’s a good idea and where would be safest for it to happen, if you want it to.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t stress about it tonight,” she says quietly. “Text him back in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Want to surprise Jules with brunch tomorrow?”

You smile almost immediately. “Of course.”

+++

You wake from a restless sleep to Juliet climbing into bed with you.

“Good morning, munchkin,” you whisper, kissing her forehead. She’s still sleepy and will probably sleep for another hour in your arms, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

As expected, Juliet falls fast asleep with her head on your chest. While she’s snoring softly, you grab your phone and text Dannie about brunch. And that’s when you’re reminded of Aaron’s text.

Quickly, before you can think twice, you reply. It’s okay.

And you move on to text Dannie, letting her know you’re awake and so is Juliet. After making plans to meet for brunch in an hour and a half, you lightly shake Juliet awake.

“Psst, munchkin,” you murmur. “Wanna have brunch with Dannie?”

Juliet pops her head up almost instantly. “Really?”

“Really really,” you nod.

She grins wide and your chest aches for a moment. She’s always had his smile, but you never realized how much it’s his smile until today.

Juliet scrambles off your bed to get dressed, and you take a deep breath before getting up, too.

+++

The entire day passes without a reply from Aaron. You don’t know what to make of it, but you do your best to ignore it.

Thoughts of him keep you awake almost all night, so by the next morning, you’re dying to get your coffee before you walk into work.

You drop Juliet off at daycare, then park your car at work, with somehow enough time to spare to walk to your favorite coffee shop before clocking in.

You spot Aaron as soon as you walk in.

“You better not be following me around,” you mutter as you stand in line behind him.

He spins around, his face softening when he recognizes you. “Hi. I’m not trying to, I promise.”

You nod slowly.

Don’t you/Don’t you smile at me and ask me how I’ve been

“How are you?” He asks hesitantly, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Good,” you reply. “You?”

“Good,” he pauses. “Busy.”

“Me too.”

The awkward small talk is ended by the line moving forward, putting Aaron at the front. He orders his usual, and steps aside. You order your usual, with a pastry, too, as a sort of condolences gift to yourself for the bullshit you’re enduring.

When you step to the side to wait, Aaron tries again.

“Sorry again for hitting you in the store with my cart,” he says. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s okay,” you say, keeping your eyes away from his. “In your defense, I wasn’t paying attention either.”

He chuckles quietly and the sound sends a dagger right to your heart.

When his coffee is ready, he grabs it, and you internally beg him to leave without another word. But he doesn’t.

Sometimes I really wish I could hate you/I’ve tried, but that’s just something I can’t do

“This is probably too forward of me, but—”

Your coffee is up.

You step forward to grab it, and damn you, you look at him to ask him to continue.

“Can we talk?” Aaron finishes.

“Right now?” You question, following him to the door. He holds it open for you and you hate that you almost smile. “I have to get to work.”

“Me too,” he says, stopping on the sidewalk with you. “We could get dinner tonight.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” he nods. “No pressure. Just text me if you want to.”

“Okay,” you exhale shakily. “See you.”

You turn on your heel and nearly sprint down the sidewalk, chest heaving and tears welling in your eyes.

+++

“What do you want to do?” Dannie asks.

You met her for lunch to discuss your encounter with Aaron this morning, and so far you still don’t know what the hell you’re going to do.

“I want to tell him to leave me alone and never come near me again,” you blurt, but then you sigh. “I don’t mean that.”

Dannie smiles sadly. “I know.”

You don’t/You don’t know how much I feel I still love you

“I think I want to talk to him, but...I don’t know, I’m scared. I don’t think I can do a dinner. I’m sick to my stomach just thinking about this and I mean...I hate that I still love him. After all this I can’t even hate him.”

“It’s hard to hate someone you love.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Wanna help me text him?”

“Of course.”

After some trial and error, you and Dannie settle on this message.

Hey. I’d like to talk, but not dinner. What about a walk instead?

Aaron replies quickly.

Hotch (BAU) That’s perfect. Where is best?

+++

The park you chose is, regrettably, the one where you and Aaron had your first date.

In your defense, it’s closest and safest. And quiet.

Aaron doesn’t seem to mind the location, though, when he walks toward you. You’re sitting on a park bench, one that must be new because you don’t remember it.

As he gets closer, you see he has two cups of coffee in hand.

“I got your usual,” he says softly. “If you want.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking it from him, careful not to let your fingers touch.

Hesitantly, he sits next to you.

The two of you sit in silence for a while. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, and apparently, neither can he.

After too long, though, you break the silence. “Ready to walk?”

“Sure,” he replies, standing with you.

You venture down the trail, grateful that you changed into your sneakers before coming. It takes another few moments before the silence is broken -- by Aaron this time.

“Is she mine?”

You sigh heavily. You should’ve known he’d ask that first.

“Technically, Juliet is mine,” you reply. “But you are the father, if that’s what you’re asking.” You pause. “You’re the only one I was with, so there’s no doubt.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” he says quietly. You can tell he’s looking at you, but you don’t look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried,” you admit. “I called three times. I got your voicemail.”

Once: When you decided officially to keep the baby. You were three months pregnant. You had almost thought he picked up when the line clicked, and then you heard his voicemail. You hung up and took a bath instead, phone forgotten in the living room.

Twice: Dannie was beside you. You were seven months then. You had caved and asked if it was a boy or girl. After hearing it was a girl, a part of you desperately wanted to tell Aaron. You remembered him saying he always wanted a baby girl. Your heart still ached from when he broke it, but you wanted to tell him. You got his voicemail.

The third time: You had just given birth. You named her Juliet. You wanted to tell Aaron. You wanted to know if he should be on the birth certificate. You wanted to tell him you had a baby girl. When he didn’t answer, the nurse gave you a sad smile, and left the line blank. Dannie held Juliet for a while so you could cry.

“You never left a message,” he replies, sounding offended.

“Did you really want me to break the news in a voicemail?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “But you could’ve said it was something important. I would’ve returned your call.”

“I called three times,” you remind him. “You’re a fucking profiler, Aaron. You think three calls meant it was unimportant?” You pause, grounding yourself. “I figured you were out on a case. I don’t blame you for that. I understand, I’ve been there. But after calling three times and not getting a single reply, I figured it was useless. I didn’t have the time or energy to worry about it anymore. I had a newborn to take care of.”

He’s silent for a while.

“How is she?”

“She’s fine. She’s with her Godmother. Probably watching Frozen.”

“That’s good.”

You can’t do this anymore. “If that’s all you wanted to ask, then I need to get going. No offense, but I really don’t have the time for small talk.”

“I understand, but…” He stops walking, staring down at his feet before locking eyes with you. “Would you— Would you be willing to give me a second chance?”

Don’t you/Don’t you say that you miss me if you don’t want me again

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, angry tears pricking your eyes. “Why?”

“I’d like to be a part of Juliet’s life. And yours. If you’ll let me.”

“I’ll ask her,” you reply. “But you can be a part of her life without being a part of mine.”

“You know that’s not true,” he says. “You chose this park for a reason today.”

“No, I chose it because it’s close,” you hiss. “Don’t you dare profile me. Don’t you dare.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and for a second you think he might have tears in his eyes, too. “I’m sorry, you’re right, that was uncalled for.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “I really do need to go.”

“Can I at least walk you to your car?”

After a moment of thought, you nod. “Sure.”

My heart knows what the truth is/I swore I wouldn’t do this

[vinnival]

Hello, I'm sorry that there are many requests again, there is still a request for a Russian reader. But I would really like to see main 3 + 2bdamned + Phobos x a very seriously ill reader. The fact is that I have heart problems and will soon have an operation, where I might end up, I would like to see the reactions and actions of my favorite characters in Madness. Thanks.

HELLO AGAIN ROSTYY I SEE UR OTHER REQUEST AND I WILL GET TO IT SOON I HAVE TO GET THRU THIS ONE AND THE OTHER ONES I ALREADY HAVE FIRST

Get Well Soon <3

HANK

Honestly wants to never leave you alone because they're worried you'll die while they're away

So he just stops going on missions and stays planted by your side

2B, being the doctor-ish man he is, also checks up on you to keep you healthy totally because he's not being threatened by hank to do so

Sometimes he'll try and hum you a song, though it's rather scratchy and very quiet, since when Hank tries to use his voice, it usually sounds like that

But he'll push through the pain to make you happy

They know they can't lay in bed with you but the temptation.... the temptation.........

If there's anything you need, he's off to get it as soon as you mention it, and is already back as quickly as he came

When you go through pain and intense bouts of struggle to stay alive, I really do believe this is when Hank would truly feel fear- for the first time? Who knows...

Once you manage to get through your condition, he's ALLLL over you

Won't let go of you unless you have to go to the bathroom harhejfjfk

He will always stay as close as possible to you when you're recovering

Even then, he still feels a teensy tiny bit of fear; you're so frail, and very prone to dying at any moment

So yes, he's very overprotective of you

Even towards his own allies

SANFORD

Would probably chill in your room and talk with you to unwind

If you were able to talk back, that was nice, if you weren't? Well, he can find a way to continue conversation. He's just like that

Polishes his many hooks while with you

He worries about you, yes, but 2B always stays at home during missions when someone is injured so he can go comfortably without worrying about you

But of course as soon as he returns home he's back in your room, ready to tell you about the poor grunt that got thrown at Hank by a MAG, plus other stories from the day

And man this man has a lot of stories.... it's kinda surprising

But you're not complaining really

He loves making you laugh, seeing your smile on your tired face made him feel better, that he was helping you through the pain in some way

Unfortunately when you were in your more worse for wear moments, he had to force himself to leave the room as 2B went hard at work to keep you alive

It scares him to hell and back but he won't admit it

While you recover, he'll volunteer to stay home for the next few missions to help you get around the place for yourself again

He's such a softie, I swear 😩😩😩

love this man.... the sand fort

DEIMOS

"Can't get in the bed?" He says, and immediately ignores that rule

He's all over you with the most gentle demeanor he's ever had

Head on your rattling chest, arm draped over your stomach that constantly growls for food other than applesauce and mashed potatoes ("to avoid the chunks of other foods to get in my way while working" 2B says)

Speaking of 2B...

Deimos is always peeking over his shoulder at you, disgusted but slightly fascinated at when the doc works on your organs

He'll leave you for missions, albeit with lots of hesitancy

He knows you're in good hands but... he overthinks sometimes

When he notices you're nearly on death's bed from time to time, he'll frantically leave the room and shout for 2B

And again, he's right over 2B's shoulder as he works on your struggling body

And let's be honest he probably started crying

Poor boy :(

He sticks to your hip when you're ready to start recovering

Never leaves you alone, gotta go to the restroom? He'll turn away! Too uncomfortable with that? Alright, he's standing right outside the door! <3

Will make you a little robot friend-- roomba? robodog? you name it, he makes it in record time

Just wants the best for you 😌

2BDAMNED

Ah yes this man is terrified of taking care of you

He knows he's the only man capable for the job, and he knows what he's doing, at that- he's put together and taken care of many people now, sometimes multiple times over, too (a heem heem.... hank....)

But... what if he screws up? What if he makes an incision in the wrong place? What if he suddenly moves his hand too much and damages a vital organ?

These factors scare him to no end when working on you, and yet... again... he's the only man possibly cut out for the job in the base

He doesn't even care that he's ordering around the most dangerous man in Nevada, he WILL tell Hank to be your bodyguard when he has to make a supply run

He sits in your room and keeps a close eye on you from a chair across from you

Sometimes he forces himself to stay awake to make sure you're okay, always gotta be on the clock for a sick patient yknow?

When you start struggling he's already all over it, ready to take down the hindrance in your body

He may or may not have an anxiety attack while doing it, though... poor man keeps worrying that he'll screw up hhh

Luckily, his mind doesn't muddle his hands and he's usually as calm as can be

It takes a lot out of him though

You'll gesture for him to lean down to you, and you'll sit up the best you can to place a kiss on his cheek with a gentle "thank you" when he's done with these situations

It always makes him determined to beat back this disease

While you recover, 2B knows exactly what you'd need and when you'd need it! He's been taking care of you for so long, its like the back of his hand by now

And he's always willing to do it ofc, with lots of reassuring kisses on the cheek to show his affection :)

PHOBOS

Knowing him he'd probably try and avoid you as much as possible

Phobos? Worrying about another person? How.... below him

But of course he loves you so... there's no way around it

Visits you when no one else can see him do so

And even then, he locks the room

The first time he did this, you raised an eyebrow quizzically at him

He immediately noticed the look and got offended, "What is that look for?! I can come into any room without question, if you didn't know."

"Then... why are you coming in when no one is around to see you do so?"

He sputters and ultimately doesn't respond

Will never admit he's worried about you, even while sat directly beside you and talking to you about stupid stuff

Otherwise, he has the best doctors in the facility working on you when you need it

No matter how much he denies it, though, it's clear to everyone that Phobos definitely has... favorites

That favorite being you

He spoils you with all the guilty pleasures of DESSERTS

"Mmmm! I haben'fhhad ish cream in sho long!!" Your mouth is full of ice cream as you say that

Phobos had to turn around to hide his excited expression and blush

"Ahem- hm. Just hurry up and heal. I need you back in my forces."

When you have those near-death moments, he's literally STRICKEN with fear at the sight of you writhing in pain as your IV speeds up at alarming rates

Like, he's frozen in place

It took you desperately pointing to the emergency call button for him to snap out of it and make a mad dash for it, nearly tripping over nothing in his haste

While the doctors worked on you, he was pacing in his quarters for so SO long

Well I mean-- it FELT long... for him...

After you were saved, he rushes back to your room, doesn't even care that people can see him entering now, he just does it

"Are you okay?" He coolly asks

You cough weakly and nod your head, "For now," you rasp out

He sighs with relief, but the nagging feeling of him being frozen while you suffered earlier plagued him

Eventually you recovered from your disease, and Phobos moved you to his quarters to keep a close eye on you and to make sure you have a speedy recovery with walking again and stuff !

I don't know if you got the surgery yet but, I wish you luck rostyy! Here you go <3

[iamwhoami]

Until the Fire Comes (One Chicago)

One Chicago

Y/N Halstead, not only the baby sister to Will and Jay but the entire Chicago family, is secretly dating Connor Rhodes but what happens when she gets injured during a call?

Warnings: Inaccurate Medical Stuff

Requested = Yes

Growing up as the younger sister with two older brothers, you quickly learned that relationships worked better when Will and Jay were kept out of the loop.

You loved them, more than anything else, and they loved you too, but sometimes their love would become a little too much and you realized that they took everything as a threat to your safety.

When you became a firefighter, your dating life became even harder to manage as it was no longer just your two brothers.

You now had an entire firehouse that would beat up a guy in a second if he even looked at you the wrong way.

With that being said, when you began dating Connor, you knew it was risky. He worked with Will for crying out loud! However, he loved you, and you loved him, and with that, you two made it work.

"So, are we going to keep this a secret from them forever?" Connor asked, glancing over at you.

You were over at his apartment, a cheesy rom-com playing on the TV. Nights like these were your favourite. Homemade popcorn and terribly wonderful movies spent with Connor.

"Maybe just a little longer?" You quirked an eyebrow.

Connor laughed, "You can't put it off forever Y/N."

"I'm not putting it off forever," You pouted, "Just a little longer."

Connor only smiled back, throwing his arm around your shoulders so that he could pull you closer into his body.

"Is that okay with you?" You whispered into his chest, the sound of his heart beating soothing your swirling mind.

"Whenever you're ready," Connor told you, "We'll tell everyone whenever you're ready."

~~~

"You did not have to kick him out," You chastised Stella as you two walked into the firehouse along with Brett.

"He was getting all handsy with you! I definitely had to give him the boot!" Stella shot back but there was a slightly defensive tone to her voice.

You groaned, "For the last time he was not handsy with me! He was flirting with me!"

"And you looked uncomfortable," Stella said matter of factly.

You sighed, "Look, I appreciate that, I do. I couldn't ask for a better friend, you always have my back Stella and I will always have yours but you know, I can handle myself."

Stella pursed her lips, "I know...I just don't want to see you getting hurt."

"I know and I appreciate it but you gotta let me handle it sometimes," You smiled up at Stella who returned it after a beat.

"Okay."

~~~

You knew the risks of your job.

Your brothers knew the risks as well, which was why they were so hesitant when you told them your plans about joining the CFD all those years ago.

They were going to be furious.

That's all you could think of as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

At some point, you blacked out completely but when you opened your eyes again, you saw Brett's worried face hovering above yours.

"You're going to be okay Y/N," Brett told you when she noticed that you were awake, "Just stay with me okay?"

You wanted to open your mouth and reassure Brett that you would. That you would try your best to stay awake.

Your best efforts weren't enough though as the weight on your eyelids won over and you shut them again, against Brett's pleas.

~~~

"What the hell happened?" Will exclaimed when he saw your unconscious body being rolled into the ER.

"The roof collapsed," Brett was on the verge of tears, "She went back in for the daughter. She's in the ambo behind us."

Maggie pushed Will aside, a non-verbal reminder that he couldn't treat you before turning to Brett, "You're going to Baghdad. Dr. Rhodes!"

Upon hearing his name being called, Connor rushed out of the doctor's lounge. He was expecting the incoming to be a trauma, but he wasn't expecting it to be you laying on the gurney.

"Y/N?" He whispered and froze.

"Dr. Rhodes!" Maggie's voice rang out through the ER.

Connor shook his head, "I can't treat her..."

"What do you mean?" Will was furious at Connor's lack of productivity when his sister was potentially dying on the gurney.

"We're dating," Connor's voice was barely audible, "I can't...she-"

Connor didn't get a chance to finish before he was rammed into the side of the nurse's station by Will.

"Hey!" Maggie yanked Will off of Connor and shoved him aside, "Dr. Bekker! You're taking this one!"

Luckily, Dr. Bekker had already jumped in once she realized what was going on and was working on you.

"It looks like she's bleeding internally," Dr. Bekker called out, "I won't be able to see the extent of it without going in."

"I need to call Jay," Will mumbled numbly and a nurse kindly guided him away to the doctor's lounge.

Connor stood there and watched as they prepped you for the OR. How could such a normal start to the day end up like this?

~~~

"She's stable," Dr. Bekker said and the moment the words were out of her mouth, a sigh of relief rippled throughout the room.

Will and Jay immediately embraced each other, both on the verge of tears.

"I'll have a nurse take you to her room," Dr. Bekker nodded and then stepped away, giving your brothers and Connor some privacy.

There was a moment of awkwardness as the three of them stood in silence, unsure of what to say or do now that the good news had arrived.

"You should see her first," Jay motioned his hand vaguely at Connor.

"You sure?" Connor quirked an eyebrow, "I mean, she's your sister."

Jay chuckled, "And you're apparently her boyfriend."

Even with Jay's approval, Connor still wasn't completely sure and looked over at Will, studying his face for any sign of protest.

"Jay's right," Will agreed after a pause, "You should see her first."

It may not have seemed to be very much but it was clear to everyone in the room that Connor had the approval of both your brothers.

You were going to be ecstatic.

~~~

You woke up to the steady sound of a heart monitor. Groaning softly, you opened a bleary eye to see a concerned Connor hovering over you.

"What happened?" You mumbled and went to rub your eyes when you noticed the IVs connected to your hands.

"The roof collapsed," Connor whispered, "You had some internal bleeding."

Your eyes widened when you realized where you were and Connor had to stop you from shooting up and potentially ripping your stitches.

"My brothers-" You started but the look on Connor's face made you stop in your tracks.

You groaned and covered your face, not wanting to even think about what your brothers would have to say to you about your secret relationship.

"I think they actually took it pretty well," Connor said and took your hand into his, "They're outside waiting...do you want them to come in?"

You nodded and Connor briefly left your side to get them. Your stomach began to churn when you saw Will and Jay enter the room.

"I'm sorry-"

You were cut off as both your brothers wrapped you up in a comforting hug.

"We thought we were going to lose you," Jay croaked out, "God, Y/N you have to stop with these tricks. You're going to give us a heart attack one day."

"That's what I do best," You joked.

Will shook his head, "You could have died. Do you know how lucky you are?"

"Very," You agreed, "Very, very lucky."

"You know you could have just invited us over to break the news about Connor," Jay teased.

You laughed, "You know me. Always with the dramatics."

"Of course."

[turtle-go-brrrr]

Scratch my shell, I scratch yours

A/N: Heya! So remember two posts ago where I said I wouldn't write fics because I'm not confident enough in my writing to post it? Yeah, me neither. I started writing this at 6 am because I couldn't sleep and kept working on it during the day, so enjoy ^^(I got a little tired at the end, and i think you can feel it ;w; hope it’s good enough anyway!)

Also, I’m a sucker for platonic intimacy, and there is a severe lack of platonic x reader in this fandom

Fun fact: the Shell is both the Dorsal (part on the back) AND the Plastron (part on the front).

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: None

Summary: You make an embarrassing suggestion that they surprisingly accept.

_____________________________________________________________

The idea came to you in a random conversation you had as you sat on their couch.

"But wait, you can really reach everywhere? Like if I touch here-", you point to a crevice in the middle of his shell. "You're telling me you can bend your arm enough to get here?"

Leonardo gently takes your wrist and pull your hand away. "I mean, we have some of those telescopic scrubs to help, you know? Or we can just ask each other to get to the hard places if it's really complicated."

Oh.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

You have been asking a few questions about their shells after Raphael started showing off some of his scars, fascinated by the intricate patterns you could see on your friends. The topic of cleaning has be brought up, and as your curiosity took charge, your brain decided to embarrass you as much as it could.

"Do you think I could help?"

Only the faint background music Mikey had set up earlier could be heard as your mutant friends looked at you, eyes wide open.

Oh, that came out wrong.

"Wait, that's not what I-", you start to explain your line of thoughts when you get interrupted by the smug look Mikey sent you, as he harbored a teasing smile.

"Oh? I didn't realize that's what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out more," he wiggles his eyebrows as your nervous laughter fills the room.

"Hold on, I can explain."

Silence again.

"Oh, you're actually listening?"

"I mean, I think we're all dying to know why on earth you'd want to take a shower with us. You're not usually this upfront with your affection," Donatello chimes in. He's not even looking at you in the eyes, but doesn't really try to hide that stupid smirk.

Bastard.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on not letting the embarassement take over, but your voice shakes imperceptibly, and you can feel youself start to sweat. Great.

"Okay, so I was thinking : you guys always do so much for the city and never get anything in return. I remember Mikey told me that you guys love shell scratches, and now I can see that you have some trouble cleaning it, so maybe I can help with that ? Kinda like a massage sort of thing, it doesn’t have to be weird if no one makes it. Now obviously we’ll be wearing swimsuits, we’re not close enough for… you know… actually taking a shower together, " you try clearing your throat discretly. You hear a muffled laugh from Raph.

"Anyway, I think Casey knows where to buy the best animal care product. I think human stuff might not be suitable for your shells, and I read somewhere that water was the best way to clean a turtle shell anyways, but if you have suggestions just let me know what you usually use. Do you even have swimsuits ? Doesn’t matter, I’m sure we can find you some-"

As you rambled on, the slight shame started to wear off and you were able to explain your line of thoughts more clearly. The awkwardness of the situation seemed to settle down, even if your friends were absolutely going to tease you about it later. Leonardo seemed hesitant, though.

"I don’t know, man. Are you sure about this ? I don’t want you to feel like you have to. We can take care of ourselves, you know."

"I’m not gonna force you if you don’t want to, I’m just offering because I want to do something nice for you guys. You can’t really take a break, but you could at least relax a bit."

"I’m up for it." You didn’t expect Raph to agree so quickly, but maybe you should have anticipatd that as you look at the bags under his eyes. "I mean, the worst thing that could happen is falling asleep while getting a massage from a friend. Kinda sounds like a dream if you ask me. "

‘Well that was easy,’ you think as your face lightens up.

"Besides, we can laugh at them for wanting to shower with us. Didn’t think you’d want to be so intimate, " he purrs as he gives you a side glance.

Oh. Bastard number two.

"Alright. Sure. You know what, fair game, " you laugh it off. Mikey puts a reassuring arm around your shoulders as Donnie places his legs on your laps.

"We do have swimwear, so you don’t need to worry about that. And you were right about using only water to clean it, as human products tends to make us itchy afterwards. There are some types of oil we use sometimes to nourish our shells, however. I think the only thing we might need to look into is new brushes. The ones we have are, hum, barely hanging on."

You send a quick text to Casey and April to let them know about the plan after making a short list of supplies with Leo, who ended up agreeing.

It didn’t take that much convincing.

____________________________

Saturday came fast. After getting all the necessary supplies with Casey, you both made your wait to the lair to join April. They had both agreed to help you in your task, because 'damn, they really need some appreciation'.

"When do you think they'll be back?" You ask Splinter as he offers you a cup of spiced tea.

"Usually around one in the morning, unless they were delayed."

Unless something went wrong.

But those dark thought quickly faded away as you heard the faint echo of Mikey's laughter as he recalled their night. Light chatter filled the room as they took off their gear and put away their weapons, and April hushed them to get changed and take a quick shower so they could get started and finally have some sort of a break.

You could see they were excited as they each went their own way, waiting for their turn to the shower.

When you live in the sewers and try to turn it into a living space, you have to do what you can with what you have. And sometimes, what you have is a large space that you can turn into a huge bathroom, with multiple showers and a large bathtub; but what you don't have is privacy. So big communal bathroom it is.

In this specific case, it's a good thing, because it means you can all chill together as you get to work on their shells. Once everyone was settled in, April motioned them to sit on some of the chairs you put up. She opens the bag Casey and you brought and starts getting the multiple brushes and bottle out.

"You have to understand that you guys are, uh, gigantic. So try to stay at our level, okay? And stay put, please. Anyway, here is what we've got for you: there are multiple brushes - one of each type for each of you - and some are harder than the others. Don't worry, we'll try not to scrub your shell off of you," she winks at that, and holds back a laugh at Raph's worried expression.

She continues. "We also found the oil Donnie told us about, and we bought multiple bottles. You'll have a stack for next time." She then gets one last bottle out that she puts aside.

"That one is for Splinter. To make his fur all soft and shiny," you butt in with an innocent smile. The old man deserves a treat too.

Casey laughs at that and says, "So, there's tree of us and four of you. Who is okay waiting for his turn?"

Silence.

After a solid minute, Leonardo sighs and volunteers to let his brothers enjoy a well deserved spoiling session. Mikey, instead of sitting on a chair like a normal person, choose instead to lay down on the bathroom floor.

"You said it was basically a massage, right? Now it really feels like it!"

"Oh, good idea. I'm this close to getting a pillow and having the nap of my life," Donnie says, putting his fingers together.

"Your fingers are touching."

"I know," he gives you a side smile as he starts to get up, but you quickly bring him back to reality. "But there's gonna be water everywhere?" You sit down next to where he just was and watch as he goes back to where he sat, sending you a disapproving side glance.

"Let a turtle dream, will you?" He lays down on his stomach, puts his head on his arms, and scouts closer to you.

You watch Raph get settled on a chair next to Casey, putting his arms on the backrest as April hands you one of the harder brushes. Leo makes a quick trip to the kitchen and brings back some water, a few snacks, and a copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne.

"Again," you start. "There's gonna be water everywhere. Are you sure bringing a book here is a good idea?"

He gives you a sly smile. "Gotta live up to my name."

What?

"What?"

"You know," Mikey interrupts. "Fearless."

"Oh. Right. Well, don't come crying when you drop it into a puddle then." But you offer him a plastic bag anyway, to hold his book with it in case he wets his hands.

"You sure you're okay waiting?" Casey asks him as he starts pouring water over Raph's back.

"Yeah, don't worry. I have things to keep me busy anyway."

______________________________

It took one swipe of the brush from April for Mikey to start... what was the word? Churring.

A low rumble coming from his throat that had kind of the same function as a cat's purr, Donnie explained. It was an expression of contentment or happiness, that sometimes even happended when they needed reassurance.

Adorable.

"I can't believe you guys can purr and never told me." Raph doesn't even bother opening his eyes when he answers you, "We knew you'd take advantage of that. Didn't want to be babied by the tiniest human we ever met."

Asshole.

You went back and forth with the gruff turtle, always in good spirit though. Conversations flowed, laughter were exchanged, and everyone managed to lighten up. Master Splinter joined the group at some point, and was just glad to spend some time with his family - all of it. He also started to take cared of Leo’s dorsal, to his delight.

You don't exactly know when, but some time after Donnie started to let go some soft churrs as you scrubbed the dirt off of his shell, you stopped listening to the current topic and started to really focus on your task.

Scrapping the dirt hidden in between every crevice, rubbing the largest scales, you were surprised by the look of the bare shell of your nerdy friend. You never really stopped to observe this particular feature the four brothers harbored, not only out of decency, but also because it was always covered. Gear and clothes, backpack and tech, dirt and blood, there was always something hiding the intricate patterns of their shells.

You unconsciously slowed down to really take in what you were seeing, your fascination and curiosity taking over your wish to help.

"I don't know why, but I never expected your shell to be so colorful," you say after wiping away the dirty water from the left side of his back. You didn’t mean to say it at loud, but he doesn't answer you. However, you do get something from Mikey.

"Man, you should see mine! Don helped me create an organic paint so I can paint my shell without hurting myself with a bunch of chemicals, and it looks sooo damn good-"

"Shh!"

"... Did they- Did you just shush me?"

"Shhh!" You whisper yell this time. You then give a side glance toward the sleeping turtle under you.

"Annw. Good luck waking him up."

"Yeah, I'm... not doing that. He needs his sleep," you laugh quietly.

______________________________

It took the three of you around an hour to deep clean their shells. Even Raph was finally letting go and softly churring at the end. Mikey was loud enough to have trouble speaking, and Donnie was still asleep. Splinter was still working meticulously on his son, who, he could tell, had a hard time holding back the content churrs that threatened to spill out.

You get up and strech, feeling your joints crack and already anticipating how sore you’ll be tomorrow. The muscles in your arms were burning, and you couldn’t feel your butt anymore, but it was worth it. You’ve never seen the four mutants so relaxed before.

Remembering the oils, you went toward the towels to dry your friend’s back and give the final touch to, what you’d grow to refer to, your work of art. You gave a few head scratches to Raph, who was dozing off with a lazy smile, and went back to Donatello. You slowly dried his dorsal when you felt him shift under your hands.

"Hey buddy," you speak softly. He whispers a ‘hey’ you can barrely hear.

"I’m almost done. I just have to put the oil, then you can let it dry and go to sleep, okay ? " You open the bottle and get a paintbrush, with which you start coating his shell with a thin layer of oil. You can hear his soft churrs start again.

Casey accidentally dropped the bottle of oil on Raph’s back and was desperatly trying to gather as much as he could. "Shi- Fuck, wait-"

"Here, give me some. Thanks to you, I don’t have to open mine, " April said with a smirk. She helped him clean up before going back to Mikey, who raised himself on his forearms and watched the scene unfold with a tired smile.

It took only around twenty minute to put the oil on their shells and get it almost dried up. Once it was done, you helped Splinter and Casey clean up as April let her dizzy friends hold onto her, guiding them on their way to their room. Once it was all done, you waved Leo good night as Raph ruffled your hair and went to sleep. Mikey gave you a big hug and thanked you for the ‘bonker idea’ and made you promise to do it again soon, which you agreed on.

April was already sleeping in the big armchair next to the couch, Casey in a sort of little nest of blankets and pillows at her feet. As you made your way to the couch – your makeshift bed for the night – Donnie was passed out cold on it already. And, boy, does he takes up a lot of space.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Splinter standing next to you. "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his bed for the night. "

"I– are you sure ? "

"He stole yours. He’ll live. " A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he guided you to your friend’s room, offering you a spare blanket and pillow. "Have a good night, Y/N. You know where to find me if you need anything."

”Thank you, Master Splinter.” You can feel your eyelid close on their own, and decide to finally call it a night. You got settled as best you could in the bed, and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

A warm breakfast would await you in the morning.

[naturallytom]

do over (eddie munson x reader)

a/n: hello from my training today! i luv eddie and wanted to try writing for him so..here it is!! hope u all enjoy!! 

warnings: language, little bit of angst 

pls rb/leave feedback!!

_______________________________________________________________________

eddie munson. the name that once brought you so much joy now made your heart ache and your fists clench in anger. well, it did before right after the breakup when the wound was still fresh. you were over it now, you had a job, a great group of friends, and no mentions of your ex boyfriend. he didn’t know where your new job was so the likelihood of running into him was low. it was at a beauty store, somewhere eddie would never go. although it was exhausting, you loved helping the customers that came in, assisting them in finding the perfect materials for themselves and chatting about personal recommendations. 

sometimes, though, when the store was slow, you couldn’t help but reminisce on some of the good times you and eddie had. his head laying in your lap while you looked up at the night sky outside his trailer, cuddling and watching scary movies when it was rainy and laughing when eddie said he would protect you from anything. 

other times, you’d think about the breakup and what could have gone better. how eddie just broke up with you one day out of nowhere because his feelings for you were dying out and he wanted to see other people. how you stayed silent and simply muttered an “ok” before making your way home. you simultaneously had nothing to say to him but everything to say to him. for a period of time after the breakup, you wanted more than anything for him to know how badly he had hurt you. yet at the same time, you didn’t think he deserved to know how you were doing. he lost the right to check up on you when he broke up with you. so you said nothing at all to him, ignoring his presence in your mind and in your heart, as well as around town. 

today was a slow day. one of those days where you pretended to be busy with tasks until someone came in or it was time to leave. you were busy unpacking new shipment when the door opened, letting you know that someone entered the store. what you weren’t expected to see when you glanced up was none other than eddie munson, walking in almost shyly. you tried to stay hidden in one of the aisles while your coworker talked to him. you thought you were safe until he approached your aisle, keeping his eyes on you. 

you kept your eyes on the ground or on the shelf in front of you, an awkward silence settling over the two of you until he broke it with a soft call of your name. 

“what the hell are you doing here?” you asked, still avoiding his eyes. 

“searching for beauty products, obviously. gotta keep up the good looks somehow.” he joked, frowning when he didn’t see a trace of a smile on your face. “looking for you.” 

“how’d you know i was here?” you mumbled. 

“one of your friends told me.” he replied. “i…i just want to talk.” 

“well i don’t. and i’m working.” you muttered, toying with the product in your hand. 

“y/n there’s no one in here and it’s raining out.” eddie pointed out. “please, just hear me out.” 

you sighed, knowing he was right. “fine. say what you want to say and then get out.” 

“i was wrong, before.” he started. “it was stupid of me to end things.”

“so what, eddie?” you spit, squeezing your eyes shut to hide the tears. 

“i…i want a do over. i wanna try again.” he said quietly. 

you were squeezing the product in your hands now, trying not to cry any more than you already were. 

“please don’t cry.” he whispered, going to wipe the tears that were already streaming down your face, only to have you back away. 

“don’t.” you whimpered. “i don’t trust you, eddie. it’ll probably just end like last time and i’m not doing that again.” 

“you don’t have to. i promise it won’t end like last time.” he pleaded. 

“i don’t believe you.”

eddie could feel his heart breaking more and his chance slipping away. 

“i’ll do anything, y/n. anything to make you believe me, anything to regain your trust.” he tried.

your head and heart were at war, with your head telling you not to let him in again, not to give him a second chance. your heart was reminding you that this was eddie. the boy who tried to get you to play d&d with him, the boy who poked you and pressed kisses to your cheeks when you tried to help him study.

ultimately, your heart won, though you had some reservations. 

“starting over. from scratch.” you muttered, wiping your eyes. “one more chance. if you fuck it up ‘m moving far away so you can never ever see me again.” 

“noted, sweetheart. thank you.” he smiled. “you won’t regret this.” 

“we’ll see, munson. we’ll see.”

[ticketstomydaydreams]

5:3666

(All We Have: Part Two)

Part One

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson fall into a night time studio routine when he starts keeping you company through your insomnia and you decide to work though some past demons

Word count: 3,200 (ish, I lost count editing)

Feels: Fluff with a dash of past trauma

Warnings: Drug & alcohol consumption, domestic violence, cursing, Colson being so sweet it almost makes your teeth hurt

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - 5:3666

Warren Zevon - I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

The Vamps - All Night

Halsey - You Should Be Sad

A/N: If you've been affected by anything in this story, please know you're not alone. My inbox is always open and I'm all ears 🖤

______

During the first couple of weeks of moving in, you’d been partying A LOT. The guys wanted to show you just how mad it got, breaking you into their chaotic household, blending the days together. Everyone was hyper and the house was buzzing with energy. You'd been so exhausted from all of it that you'd been all but passing out each night, but you couldn’t lie, it was great fun.

You’d tried to pass on a few nights but Colson would never hear of it, often forcing you out of your room to get involved as the house was filled with people, jam sessions taking place in between drinking games. It was a far cry from your usual homelife, your last housemate mainly kept to themselves so your place was normally pretty chilled. Colson had used your place as a quiet escape over the years, but it seemed you wouldn’t have the same set up extended to you here with this lot.

With the pandemic unfolding, the house had started getting quieter, less people in and out every night and everyone was settling into a lazier way of life. The gang were mooching around the house throughout the day and while the house was still lively at night, it wasn’t quite the party central you’d almost started getting used to. Your normal working routine went out the window as everyone had started working from home mainly and without your daily routine, followed by nights out partying, your insomnia was back with full force.

______

You were lying in your bed, trying to force sleep on yourself but after trying to nod off for a couple of hours, you accepted defeat and got back up. Throwing some sweats on and one of Colson’s huge hoodies (you’d been slowly sneaking them out of his closet, finding that the masses of material drowning your small frame were super comforting), you headed down to the kitchen, turned the stove on and filled the kettle up. You were scrolling through your phone when you heard footsteps on the tiled floor. Colson strolled into the kitchen looking disheveled in a white tank top and boxer shorts, hair ruffled and looking sleepy

“Dude, it’s 3am how come you’re up?”

“Couldn’t sleep, living that oh so fun insomnia life again” you sighed “Did I wake you?”

“Nah, I was already awake. Couldn’t sleep either and heard someone moving about so thought I’d come down” He replied, climbing onto one of the breakfast stools

“Yeah, I think it’s not having much of a routine. Hate lying in bed staring at the ceiling so just got up. You want a cup?” you offered, pointing to the chamomile tea you were brewing

“Sure, thanks” he says, taking the steaming mug from you

You sit down at the breakfast bar with him and start chatting, scrolling through instagram as you do. After about an hour, as you’re talking about an article you’re reading, you notice Colson doesn’t respond and you look to your right and see he’s fallen asleep, leaning on his hand, his mouth slightly ajar.

“Hey, sleeping beauty” you whisper, rubbing his back with your hand “Go to bed”

He slightly jolts at your touch, opening his eyes “Nah man, I’m keeping you company”

“Some company” you laugh softly “pretty sure you just slept through all my rambling there”

He leans against your shoulder, closing his eyes again “Hey, at least you’re not sitting here alone. That’s something right?”

“That’s true” you smile, leaning your head against his “You’re very appreciated, do you know that”

You gently push him upright and stand up “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’m pretty tired myself, so you’ve definitely helped”

He’s laid his head down on his arm on the counter, his breathing getting heavy immediately so you pull his other hand making him stand up. He stands up and puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the stairs, your legs feeling heavy as you climb each step, carrying some of Colson’s weight as he sleepily walks with you

Once you’re standing outside your bedroom doors, he pulls you in for a hug

“Night kid, don’t be wandering around bored if you can’t sleep yeah? Just come get me. Nothing worse than sitting up alone at night…”

“Will do. Thanks Col” You squeeze him a bit tighter as he kisses the top of your head

“Night” you smile, as he let’s you go and turns and heads into his room, waving his hand up behind him

Undressing and crawling into bed, your eyes feel heavy as your head hits the pillow. Colson was right, insomnia was a much less lonely experience with a friend.

______

Of course, as is always the way after your sleepless nights, you sleep in super late the following day meaning the cycle continues and you find yourself wide awake as the witching hour approaches. Feeling restless in your bedroom, you get up, and decide to head downstairs and out into the studio because you figure you might as well put this time to good use. You settle into a chair with your acoustic guitar and started playing, stopping and starting as you figure out a melody, working your latest lyrics in with it

“I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest. Got no anger, got no malice…”

“I thought I told you to come get me if you couldn’t sleep”

You almost drop your guitar as you hear Colson’s voice behind you, “Jesus, how are you such an enormous human but you still manage to creep up on me all the time?”

“Just a stealthy motherfucker I guess” He laughs, flopping into the chair next to you

“Whatcha working on? That sounded sweet, keep playing…”

Colson knows you sometimes get a bit self-conscious with people watching you sing, so he lights his joint, rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes. You smile as you see what he's doing, thankful he always understands what you're like.

You turn back to your notepad, reading over your lyric outline quickly before repositioning the guitar in your lap and resetting the metronome

___

‘I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest

Got no anger, got no malice, Just a little bit of regret

No, nobody else will tell you, so there's some things I gotta say

Gonna jot it down and then get it out and then I'll be on my way

No, you're not half the man you think that you are

And you can't fill the hole inside of you with money, drugs, and cars

I'm so glad I never ever had a baby with you

'Cause you can't love nothing unless there's something in it for you

Oh, I feel so sorry, I feel so sad

I tried to help you, it just made you mad

And I had no warning about who you are

I'm just glad I made it out without breaking down

And then ran so fuckin' far, that you would never ever touch me again

Won't see your alligator tears

'Cause, no, I've had enough of them’

___

“Man, that was beautiful Y/N. I got some chills right there…You just wrote that?”

“Nah, it’s something I dug up from ‘back then’. Been going through some old lyrics and samples while we’ve got all this time on our hands. It’s kinda cathartic to go over some of that stuff now there’s a bit more distance you know”

______

A couple of years ago, you’d been stuck in a really toxic relationship with your ex, Stevie. Your time with him had been a tornado of arguments, drugs and the constant heartache of him cheating on you. Every time you’d get close to having the strength to leave, you’d always cave in and the mess would continue with you losing a bit of yourself each time you stayed. You’d become pretty used to his violent outbursts, he had always been controlling and short tempered, often pushing you and throwing stuff around your apartment. Despite his own frequent infidelity, he flew into a jealous rage with you constantly.

He’d always hated Colson, despite him being one of your best friends, and while he’d play nice to his face you’d always get it in the neck once you were alone about how you and Colson were ‘too close’ and he ‘didn’t trust him’. Before that final night you’d spent with him, things had been pretty good with the two of you for a few weeks, there hadn’t been much drama and so you hadn’t thought too much of inviting him out with you and the gang for a night out clubbing. Your good run had clearly come to an end, when you felt his hand grab your arm tightly and drag you off the dancefloor where you’d been dancing with Colson. You’d been bundled into an uber so quickly, you hadn’t even managed to get your handbag from inside. You saw Colson running out of the club, followed by Rook and Slim who was holding your bag, as the cab pulled away.

Once you were back at the apartment, he flew into a rage. You’d never seen him this bad before, his eyes were dark and when you tried to argue back, calling his jealousy ‘pathetic’ he snapped. He’d grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the wall, “Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again” he’d spat in your face, before striking you so hard with his fist that the skin across your cheek split open. It was as if his actions had knocked him back to reality, he’d let go of you and you ran to your bedroom, locked the door behind you and started packing a bag. He hammered on the door, begging you to open it and you could hear that he was crying. You looked around for your phone before you remembered you’d left it at the club. Desperate to get away, you opened your laptop and brought up instagram, managing to send Colson a message asking him to send you an uber to his house straight away. You’d thrown your laptop and a few more bits in your bag, the battery dying before you had a chance to wait for a reply, before pulling the bedroom door open and barging past Stevie. He’d tried to grab you, but you’d finally had enough “Never fucking touch me again” you spat, pushing him off you. The hatred in your voice rooted him to the spot and he said nothing as you walked out, the door slamming behind you.

Once you were outside the apartment building, the reality of what had just happened and the situation you were in started to wash over you. You had no phone, no wallet, your laptop was dead. Just as you were starting to seriously panic, an uber pulled up and Colson had leapt out of the backseat. You’d been in total shock and had just let Colson guide you into the cab and then out into his house, up to his room. He didn’t say anything as he led you to his bathroom and lifted you up onto the counter. He grabbed a flannel and soaked it with warm water, rinsing it out before pressing it softly against the cut on your cheek, gently wiping away the blood that had mixed with your mascara laced tears. The tenderness of his actions was almost too much and you started to sob again.

“Hey, hey. Y/N, look at me” he said softly, lifting your chin so you looked at him, his blue eyes misty themselves “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Don’t move, I’ll be back in a sec”

He left the bathroom and returned with a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Putting them on the counter next to you, he crouched down and undid the straps on your heels, slipping them off your feet and then helping you down from the counter. “I’ll leave you to change”

When you came out of the bathroom, Colson was lying in his bed “Come here” he said, holding his arm and beckoning into his side. You crawled under the covers next to him and snuggled into him, his long arms wrapping around you.

“Col…” you said quietly

“Yeah?” he whispered back, stroking your hair off your forehead

“Thank you…”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve always got you Y/N”

______

“I hated that fucking guy. That night...I wanted to kill him after what he’d done to you”

You see him tense up at the memory and you lean over and squeeze his knee “You’re such an amazing friend, do you know that. I don’t know what I would’ve done that night without you”

"You're a fucking warrior Y/N, you'd have handled your shit. I was just happy you trusted me enough to let me be there for you. You deserve so much better than that" he says, covering the hand you'd placed on his knee with his, staring you in the eyes and returning the smile that's crept across your face

"You know there's been a few punches I've wanted to dole out on behalf of you over the years, but you've never let me" you tell him

"Too right I'd never let you. I never want you in the drama, you're too good for getting caught up in that shit" he replies, pointing at you with mock sternness

"Hey" he says, seeing your expression wash over with a tint of sadness "At least the sleepless nights aren't what they were then…

… If we're gonna work through some old demons this lockdown, I'm sure I've got some songs and lyrics that have never seen the light of day" He reaches over the desk and pulls his laptop towards him "You've inspired me… "

"Oh no, are we gonna fuck our heads up with this?" you joke nervously, worrying that Colson's going to delve into something that's going to upset him

"Nah, I got you covered and you got me, right?"

"True dat" you say, as he holds his fist out so you can fistbump, his eyes now focused on his laptop screen

______

You felt kinda bad, having kept Colson up all night with you the last two nights, especially as you'd got him reminiscing about some tough memories, so tonight you tried to sneak past his room when your restlessness got the better of you.

"Nice try kid!" Colson says as he throws his bedroom door open, causing you to yelp in fright. standing there topless with his sweatpants hung low in his hips, he lights the joint hanging from his mouth "I told you we were in this together now"

"I felt bad, making you stay up with me"

"You didn't make me do shit…Wait a sec, let me find a hoodie. If I have any left in here…" he says, giving a pointed look towards the huge blue hoodie you were wrapped in before walking back into his room and rummaging through his drawers

"Oh shush, you have like a hundred…"

"Right come on" he says, pulling a pink hoodie over his head and flipping the hood up over his messy hair "Let's see what we get into tonight…"

______

And so the nights went on like this, the two of you falling into an easygoing studio routine. If there wasn't anything else going on in the house, you'd eat dinner together then head to the studio and work through the night into the small hours, skipping out the pretense of trying to sleep. You were both pretty productive at this time it seemed, both being proclaimed night owls, and keeping busy during these uncertain times was keeping your minds off the unfolding pandemic.

Considering he’d referred to his home studio in the past as the ‘rage cage’ (and it certainly could still be party central when the entire crew got involved), it was actually a place you drifted towards to relax these days. You’d always worked well together in a studio, but over the weeks spending so much time just the two of you, you became more in tune with each other, noticing when one of you had hit a wall and it was time for bed. Sometimes you'd work in comfortable silence, side by side, engrossed in your own seperate tasks. Sometimes barely any work would get done as you put the world to rights talking about anything and everything in a late night impromptu therapy session.

This evening, you'd been sitting cross legged in your chair for hours now, focusing so hard on editing a song which was driving you mad, you hadn't realised your feet had gone numb. As you try to move, your knees crack and pins and needles shoot through your legs. Colson looks up from the screen he'd been engrossed in after hearing you groan and sees you rubbing your feet trying to bring back the feeling to them

‘C’mere’ he said, before turning his chair towards you and leaning down to grab your legs, bringing your feet up onto his lap. He pulls your socks off and begins massaging your feet. You lean your head back, eyes closed and let out a long ‘hmmm’. You don’t see Colson glancing over at you and shifting in his seat as he lets out slow breath before turning back to his screen

“Now this is the kind of work session I could get used to”, you sighed "You being my studio bitch on hand for foot rubs. Although, I imagine this enjoyment goes both ways Mr Foot Lover” you tease, throwing him an exaggerated wink

Colson throws his head back with a hearty chuckle, and light heartedly slaps your calf

"Keep it in your pants Y/N"

You laugh and wiggle your toes, Colson letting out a dramatic, throaty groan in response. "Those are some sexy little toes though" he states, sticking his tongue out.

Still laughing, you put your hand to your chest, and gasp as you feign prudishness and try to pull your feet away. He grabs both your feet in one of his hands, keeping them in place then leans over the desk and pulls your laptop towards you

"Get on with some work you, this is supposed to be keeping you motivated, not distracted"

He scolds affectionately, with a smile on his face

“Okay, okay, spoilsport” you grumble as you pull your computer onto your lap

Half an hour passes, your legs still on Colson’s lap with him still massaging your feet absentmindedly with one hand while he works, and your eyes begin to feel heavy. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep, until you’re awoken by a “woah” from Colson as he catches your laptop which is about to fall. Taking it from your lap, he states “Right, time for bed you”

You check your phone and see it’s already 5:36am.

You stand up and stretch then walk over behind Colson, putting your arms around his shoulders, and resting your chin on his head. Looking at his screen, you yawn “You got much left to do?”

He leans back into you, bringing his hand up to rest on your arm, “Making some good progress so just gonna finish a couple of bits”

“Okay dude” you gently kiss the top of his head and squeeze the back of his neck a couple of times as you turn to leave “Try and get some rest, we’ve got a long day of sweet fuck all to do tomorrow” you say through another big yawn

“Heh yeah, Night Kid” he says softly, letting out a yawn himself. Colson turns and watches you head out of the studio and lets out a big sigh. Feeling the back of his neck still tingle from where you’d squeezed it, he’s suddenly aware of how empty the room feels without you in it....

______

Taglist: @triplexdoublex @thisshitisfuckingdifficult @brightblaqkkheaven

Lace Up! ❌❌

[withoneheadlight]

| billy & will + pre-harringrove | full fic in spanish |

~

There’s an in-between. The high school and the middle school. A bare piece of land, yellowed from the lack of grass and the rough kiss of the sun and, right in the middle, an old shack.

It's a shabby thing that accumulates lack of re-paintings and excess of humidity but that’s out of sight, in that way of things that are just there but no one wastes time looking at anymore are.

That's where they meet.

Billy lights up a smoke. Slides his ass up an ancient, long retired desk, pasture now of the damp and rot, and leans against the peeling wood. Front and back-row seat to the long column of trees the wind’s rippling along on the other side of the wire fence. The ember warms up his lips as he inhales a deep puff and exhales a,

“You’re getting soft, Billy Hargrove”

He leans his head back and closes his eyes, ears on that ceaseless chirping of the bids that sews together the slow-passing hours of the days and nights of Indiana, and on the delighted screams from the middle-schoolers, remembering that, somewhere in there, there's a bunch of kids who will still be laughing just as hard, just as happy, a few years down the road. That maybe even Max could be one of them, if Billy hurries. That maybe he will too, if Billy is able to control that instinctive reaction that pulls his skin inward and screams at him to stopstopstop, that the soft skin shreds, falls apart so easily.

But maybe it can be both of them, if Billy manages to clench his teeth hard enough and keep on softening.

‘Cause soft skin hurts when it breaks but,

"Hey!"

Sometimes it’s worth it.

Will’s smiling wide. Stops running, abruptly, and then just stands in there, panting. He’s got a funny nose and giant eyes. The kind of bangs that make you wanna blow them out of his eyes even though what they're is too short, actually, and Billy’s always thought he'd do better in life if he didn't. Notice things. If he didn't see that widewidewidewide smile and could read it so easily.

"I've been dying to show you this!" Will kneels down into the grass, chopping out the words in between exhalations. Pulls at the zipper of his backpack, chest heaving, and he doesn't realize he's going to get dirt on the knees of his jeans or that Billy can read it. His relief. Of finding him in here and not just an empty desk. Of how for a kid every single day more means 'You care’.

(About me)

It was early December. Friday right after last period and one of those silly things that only happen in movies. Something so like scripted and choreographed that Billy nearly considered looking up at the ceiling to make sure John Hughes wasn't silently watching them, taking notes from above. They crashed in the middle of a corner. Billy sped up ‘cause he was in a hurry and the only way to catch Max in time lately was to intercept her right out of class. Will ‘cause he's always going like that, Billy knows now. Always a thousand miles per hour. Always verging on time-jump speed to then being the kind of kid who seems so quiet it's scary. They crashed. Hard. In the middle of that corner. Papers flying all over and a curse (Will) and a muffled groan (Billy) and they ended up pulling at the same paper one from each corner. A drawing. Trolls and wizards and a castle and an emerald-green light. A star in the distance, auguring bad omens. Billy forgot to be frightening and Will must have forgotten he was supposed to be frightened when he blurted out a,

"Fuck, Byers. This is frikin’ fantastic."

No fear or reticence or that way he sometimes has of bumping into words and stumbling, just a "Really?" eyes huge and bangs brushing against his eyelashes as he blinked when Billy also forgot he was also supposed to― well, supposed to be Billy Hargrove.

"’Got more?"

So now he skips English instead of Algebra, every Tuesday and Thursday. Sneaks off to that in-between place he knows no one wastes time looking at anymore to light up a smoke, same time as Will has his recess. And the kid doesn't always manage to shrug off of his flock of nerds but he’s lucky, some days.

And he brings the drawings.

Orcs and goblins and enchanted mountains on the northwest and it seems to Billy that there are more princes than princesses and that if there are any, they’re almost always sorceresses, almost always queens and that your attention gets hooked on their burning eyes, not in the clothes they’re missing and Billy feels like it's a small grain of sand, this thing they’re doing. Knows that someone’s already keeping a solid ground under Will's feet ('Joyce' he says it’s her name. And it stings, the way he manages to fit so much love, into such a tiny word). But it also seems to him that maybe it doesn't take much more, for Will, just a few grains of sand, to replace those that being a strange kid in a small town sick with apprehension for what it finds strange, takes every day away from him.

So Billy’s gotta have to clench his teeth ‘till his gums start bleeding ‘cause is that, or let his skin toughen up again. Is that. Or fucking everything up.

And ave María, Billy doesn’t want to fuck it all up again.

So he sucks on his cigarette. Hooks up an eyebrow. Waves his hand to hurry the kid up.

“Mmm. That’s how good you think it is, dickwad? ‘C’mon, got my next class in twenty”

Will flies over the papers. Head nodding and fingers skimming fast. Finds what he’s looking for and yanks it out, raises it up triumphantly in his hand. It’s the sword in the stone and he carries it up to Billy with wet knees and just a little mud-staining. It’s February and the sun’s burning brightly over all the wetness the night’s spent crying. The drawing is a huge dragon, wings made of leather and cartilage, spread out in eclipse in front of the moon, only a few silver rays illuminating the dark knight in front of it. Blue eyes lined in black, blond curls cascading down his back and Billy was clenching his teeth but they part now, ‘cause the figure looks too much like him to be a coincidence. A smile devours his whole mouth. Soft. A joke itching on the tip of his tongue. He grunts a,

“I’ve been called many things. But never this, Byers”

Only half his expression’s visible, eyebrows covered with those thick bangs, and Billy has to once again fight the impulse to blow them out.

“¿Hum?”

“Knight” he says, drawling the teasing tone out “In shining armor”

And It’s such a loss, all that hair. Because it’d pass unseen, if you don’t know him. The way his eyebrows spike up underneath and it burrows in between them, the eagerness of teasing back. But Billy’s lucky, ‘cause it’s been more than two months like this and Billy―

Knows him. Well enough at least. So it doesn't pass unseen to him.

“You know the drill, William. Spit it out. Can see you’re holding it up from miles”

Will purses his lips out tight. Looks like he’s trying but. Nah.

“Wouldn’t be that shiny '' scrunches his nose. Throws a meaningful glance at Billy’s disheveled looks. More thoughtful than not, way more intentional. But that's something he'll figure out when he grows up.

Billy cackles. Will's smile widens, satisfied. Hops onto the desk next to his. Billy offers him the cigarette.

“And―this?” Will shrugs inwardly. Glances up at him. Then down, at the exchange between their hands. Takes the cig in between two fingers and it doesn’t burn but he barely presses them against the filter, anyway, as if he’s afraid it would, all of a sudden.

"Retaliation," Billy half grunts, half laughs, and Will huffs, but swallows a deep breath to gather strength. Exhales. Takes a tiny puff and―

"Argg," coughscoughscoughs "This is. Ugh. It's awful. I don't know how you―” almost throws the cigarette back to him "Ufff, what a―" he hesitates "Yuck"

Billy snorts. Thinks about Max inhaling deep, no more than two weeks ago, eyes pining his in place. Breaking into a violent cough only a second later.

Billy pats Will’s back too.

“That’s good” he says “You better not like it” Will scrunches his whole face “And this too” Billy adds, shaking the drawing a little “This is good, too. Amazingly good, man”

Will. Stares. At him. One. Two. Three long seconds. And Billy hurts a little. With every single one. Three sharp stabs with that newly freed sword. A different kind of ' you care' each one: 'it seems so impossible to me (that you care)'. 'If you think so, maybe it's true (and I do care, that you think it)’. 'Thank you (for caring)'. And then. Those hidden eyebrows. Will’s cheeks puffing out a little when he bites the tip of his tongue and―

"Billy?" his eyes glint, heavy with ill-contained malice.

"Uh?"

"You're the dragon"

"You fucking ass―!"

Billy shoves him sideways. But Will just sways. He doesn't lose footing on that firm ground he’s standing on. Looks back at the drawing, hunches a shoulder up.

"But you’re the knight, too"

He says it in a tone that cuts straight through Billy’s chest Thank you he thinks, even though his soft skin is hurting. And he still doesn't blow hard on that bowl fringe from where it covers Will’s whole forehead but―

Stirs up all his hair instead.

“Eh!!”

“Hey, shitbird. Wanna see the one I’ve made?”

Will nods quickly. All contained-speed and reverberating and sometimes Billy doesn't know how so few people can see it, how big he is for his own skin and he thinks I wish, wish he'd accumulate enough grains of sand to raise up that firm ground under his feet, and get really, really high.

“Sure!”

He keeps it tucked away in the breast pocket of his jacket. Folded in upon itself. Same way he keeps everything else. Folds and layers and at the bottom of pockets no one ever looks at but.

He unfolds it to show it to Will Byers.

“Wow” Will says, and smiles up at Billy like Two months since we crashed against each other and I feel like I know you a little too, Billy Hargrove and Billy hit rock bottom but now at least Max and him sing AC/DC in chorus on the rides back home and Will's voice sounds like 'You're good' as he runs his fingertips over the graphite outlines of the skull and repeats, "Wow"

“Gonna have it done” Billy inhales a deep drag of Marlboro and 'Four Months to Eighteen' and for a moment it’s like he could feel the smoke curl up inside his lungs before blowing it out. The image is as pretty as it’s stupid. He glances at the open jaw of the drawing and thinks maybe he'd like a drag too "Have it healed for summer and―"

“What’s happening here?”

Steve.

Harrington.

Hand on his hips, preppy pastel polo lapels up, Ray-Bans holding up that way his hair swirls without really taming it. The twelve o'clock sun is shining sideways from his back and he's pretty. Painfully pretty. And Billy’s sure it's impossible that this redneck raised on corn and money amassed in dubious moral business is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen but sometimes he forgets. That it is impossible because. Fuck. It so seems like it. Light flicking on the ends of his hair where it curls. Under his ear. In the long curve of his neck. And the world doesn't halt and the birds don't stop chirping and the clouds don't part and no preternatural shit happens because this is the black hole where all the world's shit goes, Indiana. But. It so seems like it and,

Billy.

Knew how to breathe but that’s another thing he keeps on forgetting. Every time Steve Harrington passes him by.

He’s gotta force himself. To nod. To stop choking. When Will looks up at him with those big eyes. Questioning.

Apologizing.

Billy Hargrove, from freshly crowned local terror to―

“I was―” Will starts. Inhales. Presses his lips together right before blurting out the truth ‘cause he knows it's the only real way out "Showing Billy my drawings. Sometimes we―"

―the softie whose pride goes high up in his throat every time an eleven-year-old kid says 'Billy, this is good. It's very. Very good, Billy’.

"Sometimes we. Uhm. We―"

Will's already huge eyes get bigger, rounder. As if he’s just realizing that where he's stuck his foot keeps getting muddier, trapping himself all the way in. And Billy smiles lightly at him, sideways, so it’s hidden. From Steve Harrington. From all the world beyond. ‘Cause of that thing about facades and how hard they’re to maintain, when on one side is pressing what you're supposed to be and on the other, relentlessly, what you're hiding.

But Steve’s asking,

“Sometimes―what?” and Will’s eyes are fixed on Billy, two wide-open I’m sorrys and Billy thinks Fuck it, Hargrove. C’mon. Stop hiding.

So he’s the one who says,

“We share our drawings, Harrington”

And Steve.

He’s got those eyes.

They're like a troubled ocean in the heart of winter, those eyes. Hard, hard, hard. Imposing. But soft. So fucking soft. When something catches him off guard. Rolling stones in the breaker. And Billy wants to get swept up in them, like falling along the curve of a wave. Steve looks at him, and at the drawing in his hand, his eyes a swirl and, when he looks up, the calm. And Billy feels as those times when it seemed to him the waves wanted. To wrap around him. To catch him. Soft as the reflecting clouds. And Billy feels as those times when he’d let them. Carry him. Drag him to the shore. Safe and sound.

“Is that yours?” Steve frowns. When he does that. He looks the prettiest. And Billy's heart breaks. In tiny tiny pieces. Thinks This is what it takes, thinks Fuck, thinks, This is how things hurt when you let your skin get soft.

What you don’t have. What you want. What you could―

Fuck.

What you could love so bad you'd rip your own skin off, so they could touch your heart right with their own hands.

Billy nods. Will smiles. Steve’s frown softens and― waveswaveswaves. On an autumn morning. Waves lapping at the surface of an ocean of calm.

And now. Billy sings AC/DC with Max. His heart taking on water when his voice falls off-key and she clutches at her lungs, choking on laughter. Now, he sits in the back of an old shack halfway between who he is and who he should be and so, so very carefully turns at the pages of Will Byers' sketchbook.

And Billy Hargrove hit rock bottom one day in late October. Hit rock bottom and beat into pulp that pretty face he can't stop seeing in his dream. When he's asleep. When he's awake. Hit rock bottom and that's where he's going to stay. It's either that. Or risk coming up to the wrong surface. And it's easier, here at the bottom. Easier to see what matters, when you look up.

Here, Billy takes a breath. Deep. Deeper. Holds onto that air so he has something keeping him alive underwater when Steve snatches the drawing off his hands. Studies it carefully. Says,

"It's―Uhm. Well―" Grins "It's not. Beautiful. Like, conventionally." He eyes cut back to Billy and something in them breaks into whitewater, into that softness he can't help, as if everything else is as much of a lie as 'Billy Hargrove' and all those imaginary walls "But―"

He says ‘But’ and then. The bell goes off.

"Oh!" Will bounces on the spot "I have to―" he yanks the backpack shut "Class!"

He takes off. Running. Turning around right before the corner of the shack to wave at them, flashing one of those smiles Billy has involuntarily categorized as 'the good ones', wide and already almost panting again, before disappearing at the speed of light towards school and to, Billy hopes, be one of those few kids who are still going to be laughing just as hard, just as happy, a few years down the road. If they’re lucky.

(If Billy’s lucky)

Steve Harrington is still there, planted in front of him when the alarm stops.

"Can I bump one of those?" he asks, chin pointing to the smoke Billy's squeezing between his fingers. In the drift of his hair the Ray-Bans stay afloat, capsizing.

Billy bangs the base of the pack against his thigh, pops out a cigarette. Offers it to him. Scrapes his thumb along the wheel when Steve takes it to his lips, leaning forward and― It's broad daylight but in the thin glow of the flame it almost feels like it’s that exact instant when the world begins to fade, darkness turning wide-open spaces into narrow little universes: Steve Harrington and his red lips around the smoke and a small ache in the pad of Billy's thumb from keeping alive the fire and from wanting things with a bigger kind of ache, his heart cauterizing from holding inside the rage of knowing he's never, ever going to have them but―

"But?" Billy asks.

Steve grabs his wrist. Hollows out his cheeks. Inhales deep. Takes him a moment when he pulls away. To let go. Long enough that his fingers could read the way Billy's pulse is raging in his wrist, if he wanted to.

“But” And he’s smiling. Lopsided. He slips into Will's seat and stretches his neck toward the sky. Prolongs the wait. Exhales. "It's cute."

And then his gaze cuts down and he’s searching for him, with those eyes of his. For Billy, who can never stop looking at him so, when he finds him, finds him looking back already.

And Billy―

Billy.

"Cute?"

Billy. Blinks. His hand stops halfway from getting his own cigarette to his mouth. Stops his heart and it feels like time’s stopping too, in this narrowness Steve's presence has reduced the moment into. And he’s smiling big now. His eyes soft. Soft. So fucking soft. And Billy thinks,

You're getting soft too, Billy Hargrove. You want to let him shred off your skin, when Steve says,

"You," snorting a soft laugh, sun melting in his eyes like honey "With Will. Drawing."

Billy wants him to never stop looking at him like that. Wants to lean in, and kiss him.

"Shut up and smoke your fucking cigarette, Harrington" he growls.

And Steve rolls his eyes in a way that screams 'Gotcha, Hargrove', but leans his back against the peeling wood of the shack.

And does as he’s told.

(Next Tuesday, it's not just Will who shows up, when the bell starts ringing)

.

.

i just finished translating this and, since i had originally written this part as and stand-alone thing. here it is. idk if it's worth the work of translating it whole, or if i really feel like it but, we'll see!. i've been at war with life and writing this past few weeks but i've been missing you so much, fandom <3<3<3. hope you've been doing well.

also billy + will + drawing is one of my fav hcs and there are a few tiny things more that i wanna write? hopefully i will 🌟

[trashyswitch]

The Truth Behind His Motives

Part 2 of The New Life of a Dying Afton

Michael is getting a bath and finally spills...not the water, but the reason behind Michael's choice of job. Henry tries to cheer him up in any way he knows.

For Lucius01.

Michael was feeling his body crumble more and more, the longer he floated in the tub. But boy, did the bath feel good. It felt amazing to him. Felt like the world’s problems were lifted off his shoulders...for just a moment.

“So tell me: Why did you apply to Circus Baby’s Pizza world?” Henry asked.

Michael groaned and opened his eyes. Damn...He was looking forward to just sleeping there...in the tub.

But...He’s gotta answer the man.

“I…”

But...what should he say? Should he tell him the truth? Or cover up the truth? He could feel it coming on...an urge to bawl his eyes out. To just weep and let it all out. But...He would be seen as weak by doing that.

“Come on...tell me. If you need to cry, then cry.”

It was like being given permission, finally broke the dam open. Michael bursted out crying and hid his face in his hands out of pure embarrassment. It all welled up to the front for the first time, and poured itself out. It felt great to finally cry, but it also felt embarrassing. It was a big mix of emotions that all climbed up to fall out of him.

With all the crying, he was starting to finally lose his filter.

“I miss him.” He told him. “I hate him, but I miss him!”

Henry’s face softened. Oh gosh…This is the deep pain that Michael had been holding in.

“WHY DO I MISS A MURDERER?!” Michael shouted.

Henry let out a sigh and scratched the back of his head. “Well…”

Michael sobbed. He hated acting like this...He hated acting vulnerable and expressing his depressive thoughts.

“Sometimes love is very complicated. It can make us love terrible people, and miss the memories despite how little there are.” Henry tried to explain.

Michael continued to double over and cry. He could hear his tears plopping into the bathtub. He felt like a complete loser. His father would’ve reprimanded him for crying so much. But Henry...wasn’t like that.

“You hold so many things inside that little heart of yours.” Henry told him.

He had a good point...He really does hold things in his heart. And now was the time to get it all out.

“I...It gets stronger with every passing day!” Michael told him. He wiped the tears off his face and looked at Henry desperately. “I feel an urge to meet him! See him! Feel him, anything with him!” Michael explained. “But I can’t!”

Henry smiled. “I get those too…I would kill to hear William’s laugh again.”

Michael sniffled. “I wanna hear his voice again. His real voice. Not his broken voice.” Michael started to rock as he talked to him. “I started to use a coping strategy.”

“Yeah?” Henry responded softly. He sounded really interested...And he genuinely was.

“I started writing letters to him...My therapist told me to.” Michael told him. “It helps a bit...Helps me feel close to him again…”

Henry nodded and continued to listen.

“But there are some days when it’s not enough...Some days, I need more. So much more.” Michael told him. “I need to be where he is. I need to talk to him...Ask him things that constantly fill my mind.” Michael told him.

“Like?”

“Like...Why did you do it?” Michael asked. “Why did you have me? If you love me, why did you do what you did?”

Henry nodded. “Trust me, I have those exact same questions.”

Michael nodded and growled. “I was sick of the hole in my heart. I wanted real answers!” Michael told him. “So…”

“You applied to a job that William used to run…and that Elizabeth is being held captive in…” Henry filled in the blanks.

Michael nodded and splashed the water angrily. “It was stupid. So stupid.”

Henry nodded. “It was...But I understand.”

Michael looked up at him.

“The truth is, the hole in your heart may never fill.” Henry told him. “But what you do with that hole, may make all the difference.”

Michael looked at him and sighed. “I...I found Elizabeth…” Michael told him.

Henry looked up. “You did?”

“Yeah…” Michael replied.

“How is she?” Henry asked.

“Stuck.” He replied.

“I imagine…” Henry told him.

Michael started to tear up all over again. “I miss her too.”

Henry walked up closer and hugged him. “I know.”

Michael continued to cry into the man’s sleeve. The pain of all he had gone through had been building up till this point. Now, it was all crashing apart. His world was upside down, and his body was decaying before his eyes.

“Now look at me…” Michael muttered, as he looked at the soggy dead skin that had fallen off as he bathed. It was everywhere...It would probably clog the bathtub. “I know…” Henry told him. “It’s both unimaginable, and disgusting at the same time.”

Michael chuckled a bit. “I’m a zombie.” He put his arms up like a zombie.

Michael actually laughed at that. “You really are! Barely awake, barely alive, heart’s maybe pumping but that’s about it.” Henry added.

Michael smiled for the first time at that moment. His teeth were still there despite the decaying body.

“I miss him.” He told him.

“I do too.” Henry said back. “Would it help if I told you some stories of when we were hanging out together?” He asked.

Michael nodded and leaned against the corner of the bathtub.

“So: there was this one time we took you to the playground when you were almost 2. Your father was ecstatic about going to the park with you for the first time. He couldn’t wait to see what you’d choose!” He told him.

Michael smiled.

“He let you go run, while I sat on a bench. I was questioning you going on your own, but I guess parents have to do it at some point.” Henry told him. “Anyway, you immediately ran to the swings first. So naturally, William started sprinting to the swing and wanna guess what he did?” He told him.

“He pushed me?” He asked.

“Nope!” Henry laughed. “He put you in the swing, and left you there while he climbed into the baby swing beside you!” He laughed. “He expected me to walk my ass over there, and push us both!” He told him.

Michael rolled his eyes and laughed. “Wow…”

“Wow is right!” Henry reacted. “Making me do all the work!”

“What did you do?” Michael asked.

“I tickled him.” He replied casually.

“You-...I’m sorry what?” Michael was surprised.

“The trick to handling his lack of common sense was to tickle him. And William, let me tell ya: William was the most ticklish man I have ever met, in my life! And he was just ASKING for it that day.” Henry told him.

Michael giggled in slight nervousness.

“His sides were the killer spot. You tickle him there? He’ll flop to the ground. Tickle him from standing? He’ll be on the ground in seconds.” He told him.

Michael laughed.

“Ahahahand his feet?”

“His feet were a good spot to go for when he was taking up the whole couch. All you had to do was keep tickling till he had his knees to his chest.” Henry told him. “And if he ever placed his feet on your knees afterwards? You just keep on going.” Henry told him.

“Wohohow! I guess I now know why I’m ticklish everywhere.” Michael mentioned.

“Yeah! I guess so!” Henry reacted. “I never really thought ticklish spots could be genetic. But, I suppose they are.” He told him.

Michael shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t really know much about genetics. But he did know about the dominant and recessive genes.

[A while later:]

Michael had walked up to Henry after having his bath.

Henry was waiting for Michael on the couch, with an evil looking grin on his face.

“What?” Michael asked with a chuckle.

“Oh nothing…” He said, clearly not meaning it.

“Don’t nothing me! Something’s up.” Michael told him.

“You’re right…” Henry said with a sly smirk.

“What are you planning?” Michael asked as Henry got up.

“Oooooh...ya knooooww..” He walked around Michael and squeezed his sides.

“EEEHEHEHEHEHEHE!” He laughed, doubling over.

“Oooooh! Just as ticklish on your sides, I see!” Henry reacted.

“COHOHOHOME OHOHON! YOHOHOU AHAHALREADY TIHIHICKLED MEHEHE TOHOHODAHAHAY!” Michael reacted.

“Did I?” Henry asked. “Oh yeah! I did, didn’t I?” Henry realized.

“YEHEHEHES!” Michael laughed happily.

“Well maybe I wanna tickle you some more!” Henry reacted.

Michael felt trapped under Henry’s wiggly fingers. His sides were almost as ticklish as his Dad’s were.

“Wow! I wonder...Are your hips just as ticklish?” He asked.

Michael widened his eyes. NO! “NAHAT THERE!”

“Not where?” He squeezed them. “Here?”

Michael absolutely EXPLODED with laughter! His hips were a super bad spot!

“Funny...I don’t remember William’s hips being this ticklish! Though, I do remember William mentioning how ticklish your mother’s hips were.” Henry reacted.

“REHEHEHEALLY?” He reacted.

“Yeah! Her hips were a really bad spot. And her only spot! Her hips seemed to make up for the lack of tickle spots on her whole body. It was quite the interesting contrast compared to William.” Henry explained.

Michael's smile grew brighter and brighter the longer he was tickled. It felt just as nice as being in the tub. He was truly getting the treatment today!

“OHOHOKAHAHAHAY, BREHEHEHEAK PLEHEHEHEASE!” He begged.

Henry nodded and gave him a break. He stopped tickling him and let him go.

Michael didn’t really lack the air to breathe, being he was mostly dead. So the man recovered rather quickly.

“Thahahank you Dad.” He said in a giggly trance.

Henry widened his eyes and quickly covered his mouth. He hadn’t been called Dad since Charlie!

Henry could feel the tears coming on. “Oh no, here comes my turn to cry…” He admitted with a laugh.

Michael quickly comforted him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Michael told him.

“Ihit’s fine. It was nice of you to call me Dad. I needed that.” Henry told him.

Michael smiled and hugged him. “No problem...Dad.”

Aaaaand a lot more tears were shed that evening.

This fanfic is a personal take on Daddy Issues (Which I have). The truth is, I have 2 Dad's: A birth Dad, and an adopted Dad. My adopted Dad is the greatest man I've ever met. My birth Dad...is broken. I really wanted to illustrate what it's like to hate someone you love, and explain that need to see someone you love despite the hate you feel towards them. It's super complicated, but I tried to explain it here as a therapy of sorts for me. I hope this explains some things.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Attachment Issues - Fred Weasley

Title: Attachment Issues Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred’s not quite ready to leave his daughter to go back to work, so he has to find a creative way to keep her with him. A/N: just some more Dad!Fred fluff because I’m soft for it. This isn’t in anyway related to my dad!fred series, just something cute I couldn’t stop thinking about! Tags: @feltondarling​ @pandaxnienke​ @raerae27​ @thefifthweasley

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

“Figured I would find you here,” Y/N says softly as she rests against the door jamb of the nursery.

Fred looks up at his wife for a brief moment, before refocusing his attention on the bundle of blankets in his arms. Their daughter is just barely a month old, and Fred’s heart feels as if it’s melting out of his chest as he watches her blink up at him. “Gotten that predictable, have I?”

Y/N chuckles as she steps further into the room, taking a seat on the floor in front of Fred. “I’m afraid so, love. That little girl has had you wrapped around her finger since the moment she came into this world.”

Fred rolls his eyes fondly, knowing that Y/N is right. When they first found out they were expecting Fred had told everyone he didn’t mind what they had, as long as they inherited his love of pranks. But deep down he had hoped it would be a girl, a little princess for him to spoil. He cried endlessly the day she was born, and the only time he would put her down is when Y/N would demand a turn. Everyone loves to tease him, and tell him that Electra turned him soft, but he doesn’t care. Becoming a Dad has made him feel whole, and he wants to make sure his daughter never doubts how much he loves her.

“Well so does her Mother so there’s no surprise there,” Fred teases, nudging Y/N’s leg with his foot. “I’d go to the ends of the earth for both of you.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything and just sits there watching Fred for a moment. His eyes are soft as he looks down at their daughter, and they’re filled to the brim with pure love and adoration. Watching Fred become a Dad has made Y/N fall even more in love with him, something she never thought was possible. Whenever Y/N starts to feel overwhelmed or she begins to doubt herself Fred is always right there beside her to lend a helping hand and remind her how wonderful she is. He’s right there with her during every late night feeding, he’s always willing to change the dirty diapers and no matter how tired he is, he’s always the first one out of bed the second Electra begins to fuss.

Y/N watches as Fred pulls their daughter closer to his chest so he can press a kiss to her forehead. “What’s on your mind, Freddie?” Y/N hadn’t heard Electra cry, so she knows that Fred snuck out of bed and into the nursery not to comfort their daughter, but so that she could comfort him.

“I’m not ready yet,” Fred says quietly. He doesn’t offer more information, but he knows that Y/N will understand.

“Fred,” Y/N says softly, standing up. She waits for Fred to adjust his position before taking a seat on his lap, one of her arms winding around his neck while the other strokes their daughter’s cheek. “I love having you here with us. But George needs you too.”

Fred sighs, yet again Y/N is right. Before Electra was born Fred and George had many conversations about him taking some time off so that he could be at home with her and Y/N. George was gracious enough to give Fred an entire month off. George had agreed to take over all the responsibilities of running the store day to day, as long as Fred would take care of most of the paperwork, that way Fred could stay home with Y/N and Electra, but still help George out. Fred has been to the joke shop a few times since Electra was born, but he always brought her with him. It gave him a chance to check up on things and it gave Y/N the chance to have a few baby free moments. But now it’s time to go back to work full time, and Fred is dreading the thought of leaving Electra.

“I know I have to go, and I do miss being at the shop. But this month has gone by so fast. I need more time.” Electra’s little fist pops out of her blanket and Fred leans forward to press a few soft kisses to it. “I can’t leave her yet.”

Y/N starts to play with the hair at the base of Fred’s neck, leaning forward to press a kiss to his temple. “I know, love. Having you home this past month has been amazing and getting to experience every moment of this with you is something I’ll always be thankful for. But we gotta start getting back to normal, Freddie. Even if that means you’re gone during the day.”

Fred finally looks away from the baby in his arms so he can press a sweet kiss to Y/N’s lips. “And you’ll be okay here? Without me?”

“Of course, Freddie,” Y/N reassures, kissing him again. “Having you home is great, but you belong at the shop with George. You’ve gotta be dying to get back there. I’ve seen you, scribbling all your ideas down in your little notebook,” she teases. “Besides, if you stay home any longer you’ll get out of practice and then who’s gonna teach Electra to be a master pranker?”

Electra makes a cooing noise at that, almost as if she’s agreeing with her mother, and it puts Fred at ease. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Of course, that’s why you married me isn’t it?” Y/N kisses Fred slowly, using it as a distraction so she can slip her arm under the baby and slowly cradle her into her own chest. “Now go get ready. You don’t want to be late!”

Fred glares at Y/N as she walks away with Electra, his chest already feeling empty from their absence.

-

“I’m home!” Fred announces as he lands in their fireplace. Being back at the shop felt wonderful, and even though his heart felt heavy in his chest, he managed to have an amazing first day back. But now he’s home and all he wants to do is kiss his wife and hold his daughter close. He dusts himself off as he heads over to the bassinet they keep in the lounge, and the hopeful smile drops from his face when he finds it empty.

“Where are you, love? I wanna see my girls,” he calls out, heading towards the kitchen.

“Gotta come and find us, Freddie,” Y/N teases with a laugh.

Fred rolls his eyes as he pushes the kitchen door open and he immediately comes up behind Y/N and wraps his arms around her waist. “Found you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her neck. “What’s my prize?”

“A kiss.” Y/N tilts her head back and Fred presses their lips together, though they’re both smiling too much for it to be considered a kiss. “You have a good day?”

Fred hums, but he’s too busy watching Electra to answer. Y/N is wearing some kind of piece of fabric, and their daughter is swaddled up inside of it, fast asleep. “How is she so cute even when she’s sleeping?” Fred whispers, reaching out to gently rub her cheek. Electra makes a noise in her sleep, her head instinctively turning towards Fred’s touch. Fred’s heart melts, and he feels the tension in his chest fall away.

“I know right? Who would have thought at oaf like you could create something so perfect?” Y/N teases. She chuckles when Fred pouts at her, and she leans up to kiss it away. “You didn’t miss us too much, did you?”

Fred releases Y/N from his grip so she can continue cooking dinner, watching in awe as their daughter continues to sleep soundly against his chest. “I missed you terribly. Could barely even function,” Fred jokes. “What’s that thing you’re wearing? Don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”

“Some muggle thing Hermione gave me, it’s called a baby wrap I think. It’s basically just a long piece of fabric you tie around yourself for the baby to sit in. That way you can still get that close contact but still move around,” Y/N explains. “And the reason you’ve never seen it is because you’re a baby hog, so I never needed it before.”

“Hey, I’m not a baby hog!” Fred pouts. He watches Y/N shake her head with a chuckle, an idea forming in his head.

-

The next morning Fred wakes up a little bit earlier than normal and does his best to get ready for work without making any noise, so Y/N doesn’t wake up and catch him in the act. Once he’s dressed he grabs the baby wrap from the chair in the corner of their room and tiptoes into the nursery.

By the time Fred has figured out how to properly secure the wrap around him it’s nearly time for him to leave. He’s already fed and changed Electra, and he’s standing in the kitchen packing her bag when he hears Y/N start to come down the stairs.

“Do you have the baby? Because if not she’s learned how to teleport,” Y/N says with a laugh as she comes into the kitchen. “Why are you wearing the wrap?”

Fred turns around, a grin on his face. “Because I’m taking Electra to work with me,” he answers casually. He hooks the diaper bag on his shoulder and heads over to Y/N. “Say goodbye to Mummy.”

“Wait, hold on.” Y/N grabs Fred’s wrist to keep him from leaving the kitchen. “What do you mean you’re taking her to work with you, Fred? You’re just gonna wear her all day?”

Fred shrugs. “Why not? I charmed the wrap so none of the noise of the shop will bother her, she’ll sleep most of the day anyway and I know her feeding schedule. I’ll keep her bottles in George’s fridge and I can take her upstairs or in the office if she gets fussy.”

Y/N opens her mouth like she’s going to say something before shutting it again. “Well you’ve clearly thought this through, and I can’t think of any reason why I should stop you.” She bites her lip. “Fine, you can take Electra to work with you today. Just this once though, Fred.”

“Right, just this once,” Fred responds with a wink. He leans down pecks Y/N’s lips a few times. “Love you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a fond smile on her face. “Yeah I love you too, baby hog.” She leans down and presses a kiss to Electra’s forehead. “Love you too, princess. Keep an eye on your Daddy for me, okay? He worries me sometimes,” she teases.

“See you after work, meanie.” Fred kisses Y/N one last time, making sure to grip Electra tightly as he apparates them to the joke shop.

-

“Morning, Fred,” George greets, turning around to smile at his brother. “What are you wearing?” he asks, his voice full of confusion.

Fred looks down at himself before looking back at George. “Uh, a suit? What else would I be wearing?”

George rolls his eyes. “The other thing, moron.”

Fred grins. “Oh that. A baby.”

George’s eyes widen and he starts to walk towards Fred. “Electra’s in there?” Fred nods and moves a bit of the fabric away so George can see her. “Wicked. Can I have a turn?”

“Oi, back off mate,” Fred teases. “If you wanna wear a baby so bad then get one of your own.” Fred starts to head upstairs to put some of Electra’s things away.

“Why would I do that when I can just steal yours?” George asks with a laugh.

Fred pauses on the stairs, turning to look at George. “You should be thanking me, you know. The things I put up with being the older brother. Ridiculous.”

By the time Fred comes back downstairs the shop is already open, and he starts to walk around the floor, helping out customers and answering questions. Every time someone stops him they always look down at Electra, cooing at how cute she is. It fills Fred with joy, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the extra attention.

During the periods of time that Electra’s awake  Fred can hear her cooing softly, and it makes him weak in the knees each time. Every once in a while her little hand will peek out of the wrap and grab at his tie, making every once who witnesses it swoon. At one point when he’s trying to make a sale Electra starts to cry, and the woman feels so bad for Fred that she ends up buying double the amount of whizbangs she needs to help support a nice single father and his daughter. Fred of course thanks the woman endlessly as she heads toward the counter, silently hoping she doesn’t catch a glimmer of his wedding ring.

“So why’d you bring the baby with you?” George asks. “Don’t trust Y/N with your little princess?” he teases.

They’re in a bit of a lull after lunchtime, and Fred is sitting behind the counter giving Electra a bottle while George sorts through some of their mail. Normally by this point in the day Fred would be hitting his afternoon slump, but the feeling of Electra’s tiny, warm body against his chest is keeping him energized. Whenever he feels frustrated or overwhelmed all he has to do is look down at his angelic daughter and he instantly feels better.

“That’s it precisely George,” Fred chides with an eye roll. “But to actually answer your question. I don’t know really. It was nice to be away from home for a bit yesterday and I had a lot of fun, but it’s nice to be with her, ya know? Like it feels like my heart isn’t in my chest when I’m away from her.” Fred blushes when George lets out a quiet ‘aw’ and flips his brother off. “Like no matter how much time I spend with her it’s never enough.”

“You’ve gone soft on me, Freddie,” George teases. “I figured after spending a month at home dealing with no sleep and dirty diapers you’d be dying for some time away from Electra.”

“If it were any other baby I would have, there’s no doubt in my mind,” Fred chuckles. “But I dunno, it’s different when it’s your own baby. Like no matter how tired I am or how much other stuff I have to do, the second she makes a noise all that matters is making sure she’s okay.”

George chuckles. “Bet that’s gotta be hell for you sex life.”

“Oh trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Fred laughs. He looks down at Electra, and lightly strokes her cheek. “But that’s what sleepover at Grandma’s house are for. Right Miss Ellie?”

-

The second Fred walks through the front door that evening Y/N is right in front of him, reaching into the wrap to grab Electra. “Ugh, finally. Thought you’d never get home.” She immediately cradles the baby against her chest, pressing several gentle kisses all over her face. “Mummy miss you so much, Els!”

“Nice to see you too, love,” Fred teases, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head.

Y/N giggles and tilts her head up so Fred will kiss her. Fred kisses her slowly, and when he finally pulls away Y/N feels lightheaded. “I’m sorry, love. I missed you terribly as well.” She heads towards the couch, gently rocking Electra back and forth. “How did it go with her? Was it alright?”

“It was amazing,” Fred admits honestly, sitting down next to Y/N. “Everyone in that came in absolutely loved her, and she’s a natural saleswoman, Y/N. Some old woman thought I was a single dad, so she bought a ton of stuff. It was great. And let me tell you, single women find you even more attractive when you’ve got a baby strapped to your chest.”

Y/N hits Fred on the chest playfully. “That’s it. You’re never leaving the house with her if I’m not with you ever again.”

“Oh please, I only have eyes for you, and you know that.” Fred leans down and presses a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “But if it makes you feel better I will get the words ‘I’m married’ tattooed on my forehead.”

“It would make me feel endlessly better, thank you my love.”

Fred rolls his eyes before he leans down to kiss Y/N again, already planning on how to sneak Electra to work with him tomorrow.

[dantelionwishes]

"Watanabe."

Sato spoke in a firm tone as he leaned against the wall behind him, arms crossed with difficult-to-read expression across his face. He was never a fan of lecturing his students like this, but it needed to be done every now and then. Kids were getting more and more stubborn nowadays, and he's not sure who to blame.

"We've discussed this in the past during our classes. Have you forgotten? Tell me." The teacher waited for an answer from the injured boy, his voice loud and clear with instruction.

A soft huff came from the boy. He felt like he was somehow dying and dead at the same time. Everything hurt. Everything felt terrible.

"... I was winning." He croaked. Whether that was really true or not didnt seem to matter. Maybe he fried his brain a little...

"You were winning in a losing battle with yourself, Watanabe." The teacher had raised his voice a little with urgency, "So many times. I've told you to never overuse your quirk like that." Even while wearing the mask it was clear how loud his voice was getting as he spoke, a growing exasperated appearance on his usually calm face.

"Do you understand the risks you physically take when you pull of stunts like these, Watanabe? Do you?"

....

He turned his head away from his teacher, grunting lightly. Hell, even that simple movement hurt like hell-- "Everyone's quirks b-.. Backfires somehow." Sniff. "... 's not my fault-... Not my fault mine sucks." If he had just gone a little further he could have knocked her out of the ring. Could have proceeded. Hell, he might have won the entire event!

A sigh.

He was crying. Sato took a deep breath to calm himself down and massaged the bridge of his nose.

"You're not listening to me, you can't even answer my question." His brain really was that close to getting melted, his student's basically delusional at this point. He can't think of anything else. Sato really is grateful to have a co-teacher like Lucca to act as referee. Their special class of unique students were a bit stubborn, almost comparable to the current third years when they were younger.

"I've told everyone in class to not overuse their quirk, not just you." The teacher leafed through Taishiro's medical papers, briefly going through the history of his quirk. "Do you understand where I'm going, Watanabe?" Based on the student's expression alone, he knew he wasn't listening.

Previous records of burns. Overuse. Overheating in summer. Some brief notes about malnutrition and possible neglect from a few years back-

"......"

Was he listening? Tired? Or did he fuck himself up and needed longer to think? Oh lord.. ".... Ss.." ow

".... Sato-sensei... I-- gh... You don't get it at all." sniffle. Ow existing is painful. "... I-i have to."

"You don't." His voice stayed unyielding, but kinder. "You don't have to, Watanabe."

Sato set the papers beside away, handing it to Recovery Girl who watched with a worried expression. "It's...a high school event," he approached, sitting at the foot of the bed where his student rested. "Watanabe. It's a sports festival. You are a sixteen years old teenage student who shouldn't be focusing on studies and making friends."

"...."

Sniff

".... You d.. you don't get it-" It felt like no one did "You just-- S-sometimes you just gotta deal with a little pain- UGH-" Yoshie look what you did you fucked up the kid- He squeezed his eyes(?) Closed. "T-... To get where you need to.."

"A little." He repeated, "A little pain." Sato felt a nerve pop at how Tai's words, but let it slide. Take a deep breath, you're past your prime, Osamu. It's his story, not yours. Don't make it about you. The kid needs this. He needs you right now.

The teacher pointed to his pitch-black hands, his injuries, his bandages, his current state of being. There was even a constant, soft whirring of a fan as his student recovered in bed. "You're going to get yourself killed before you can get where you need to, Taishiro. I can't let you do this."

His hands twitched. There was an attempt to ball his fists, but the pain didn't do any favours.. If he kept this up then he'd lose the functions in his hands entirely, if not the hands themselves.

"W-" An attempt to sit up. Very short lived though. "Y-you're not kicking me out of the tournament are you?!" Owie his throat. "You can't do that!"

"Stay still, Watanabe-kun!" Recovery Girl raised her voice from her seat, upset. "You shouldn't move around so much in your condition. You're going to stay here until you've stabilized." She crossed her arms. "Anything happens to you, and it's going to be on me!"

"You heard the boss," Sato turned back to his student, putting a sympathetic hand on Tai's blanketed knee. "Please, you need all the rest you can get. You need this more than anything else right now."

B- but that's not fair!!!" He shook a little. Pain? Anger? Who knows. "I was so close-- You can't do this to me, Sensei!!!" Oop tears ahoy

"Close to dying, if that was your goal." The teacher's expression was solemn, serious. This conversation was getting nowhere, and his student continued to be stubborn and in denial. He wished he could stay here for him, but he's got his job as a homeroom teacher cut out for him. He has other students to tend to, but this one...he might not be enough for Tai.

"I don't want you risking your life out there, against your own classmates. It's. A sports festival. You're supposed to be having fun out there." Sato pointed to the window, where the stadium could be seen from the clinic, "You enrolled here to become a hero, didn't you? What's the point if you don't make it to fighting villains? You won't be anywhere close if everything ends here."

"If I can't handle a sports festival how am i going to handle villains?!??" Angy.. "I-its not my fault I was matched with someone powerful!!"

"No hero gets to choose who they'll fight on the battle field. That's exactly what you're here in UA, Watanabe." Sato raked his fingers through his own locks, giving his student a meaningful glance. "To learn."

The usually tired teacher's eyes began to blaze with passion. "You're going to exactly learn how to, without endangering yourself. I've been teaching you how to, haven't I?" He didn't enroll into education for nothing, after all. "Or perhaps my classes really are that boring, hm?" Sato passed a joking glare towards Taishiro, recalling his grades and current standing.

".. I was winning" Huff "You should be happy about that... One of your students was doing good.. And now you're blocking him from winning"

He's not listening. Teenagers really are a different breed, huh?

The bed shifted from Sato's weight as he slowly moved towards the other student before gently, softly, enveloping Taishiro in the warmest hug he could give without adding pain to his injuries.

"You've done amazingly, well beyond my expectations...and now you need to rest. I'm so sorry I have to stop you here, when you're so close. I really am." Sato brings a hand behind Taishiro's head, carefully caressing his brightly coloured hair. He strokes the back of his head gently, speaking in a voice just as tender.

"I'm more than happy, Watanabe. Thank you for being a proud, strong student of Class 1-X."

He flinches a little from the pressure. Ow- Injury--

Whens the last time someone pet his hair like this? Not since he was tiny, probably. It was nice. Reminded him of snoozing on his dads lap on the way home from the park.

...

Sniff.

Sniff sniff-

The tears were already there, of course, but this just made it worse, thick black tears pouring from his eyes(?) Mann.. Even after all of that. After almost melting himself alive. After being so stubborn..

He was still just a teenager.

Hic-

He trembled, hiccuping as his lip trembled... And finally fully giving into his tears. Wailing onto his teacher. Sorry Sato your shirt is gonna get stained

It's not the first time Sato's shirt got stained with black tears. If anything, he's just happy to be there for his students in their time of need. He continues speaking what's on his mind, all the while hugging and comforting him via headpats.

"You kids are going to be the future. You guys are going to protect us when the time is right," voice low and soothing, he kept going. "So as your teacher, I can't have you risking your life as early as now. It would be my fault if something bad happened to you, it meant I didn't teach right."

He leaned back, breaking the hug. Even with the mask, Sato's smile was evident as his eyes crinkled with encouragement and pride towards Taishiro. "So with that, please continue being a good student, 'kay? Study well and become a great hero."

Hic hic hic--

Oh he's a mess. Aw man the bandages are gonna get stained too. :C

He kept shaking. Pained. Both emotionally and physically. God he was so tired-- "I-i'm trying!!"

"Trying a bit too hard, I'd say." Sato laughed softly, if not a bit cocky.

"You'll need some extra remedial classes if you want to be a good hero. And maybe some extra focus." Before he could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. Ah, right on time. Recovery Girl glanced as Sato put away his phone into his pocket, did he contact someone?

"Come right in, sir. The door's open."

Sniff...

He lifted his head. Another doctor maybe? Who would- ...

"Taishiro-!"

Oh lord-

Yoshie wastes no time. He's still in his pizza place uniform. Pizza smell. Pizza man.. He dashes over to grab and hold his son, of course causing the kid a little more pain but- Hey he could deal. Proabbly-

"D- Dad?!"

"Tai- Taishiro i saw everything--" He grabbed his son by the shoulders, face full of concern.

"How could you do that to yourself?! Do you know how dangerous that was?!?!"

"Dad...-"

"No! You can't-- Son. You can't keep doing this!!"

"I was winni-" "YOU WERE KILLING YOURSELF, TAI."

...

Oh

Tai is pulled in for a tight hug again, his father tearing up as he holds his son protectively, tai looking stunned for a moment.

"You can't do that-- Why would--" A sniff. From Yoshie this time. "..You're my only son, Tai! You can't do that to yourself!"

The father turned his head a little, looking at the teacher. ".. I-is it possible for me to take him home? Watch over his recovery?"

Sato hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well...it's a miracle the match ended before things for irreversible. It's another miracle that we've got such an amazing nurse on our side, too." He glances over to Recovery Girl for an opinion. "What do you say, Ma'am?"

"He's still a bit unstable, so we need to watch over him a bit more. He did too much work this festival, so..." The school nurse herself huffs, always with the tendency to scold those she heals up. "Learn to control yourself, young man! You're still a teenager, don't risk yourself at this age!" She raises her cane, gesturing to all the other students in the ward. "And that goes for all of you, too! Got that?!" A collective groan from the injured students follows, sounding like a "yes, ma'am."

The teacher decided to continue for her, "He should be okay to bring home by tomorrow." He placed a hand on Yoshie's shoulder, kind but firm. "Don't worry Watanabe-san, your son is in good hands."

"...."

A small nod, before he turns back to his son, cupping the students face.

"Tai.. I know it's not been easy. I know-.. I know i've not been the best father to you-" Two idiots be crying "... But this-..You can't do this. Not for my sake.." Looks like he saw the rin match. oop. "You have to do things for yourself. Make friends! ignore your work-- Hell, get another piercing- Just.. Don't give up your youth for me, Tai."

"D..."

All of this was for him.. All of this was.. All... "

... D-daaad-!!"And back to wailing he goes, his father chuckling a little through his own tears, holding him close. and letting his son cry it out. There was a lot of healing to be done, but at least this time he'd fight like hell to be around to help with it.

Sato watched as the two cried in each others arms, relieved that things turned out pretty well in the end. He excused himself from the clinic, waved goodbye to the nurse, father, and patient.

Now, then...

As soon as he closed the infirmary door behind him, Hikari, the redheaded girl from the other class was clutching her cellphone anxiously as she stuttered to find her voice. He wasn't well acquainted with her, but knew she did rather well in his class knowing that she received some sort of prior training from her pro hero relatives with that unfortunate quirk of hers. And she's the last of Class 1-Y standing...if anything, he's a bit worried considering Lucca's most anxious student is going to fight his scariest, angriest student.

"It's okay. He's doing well." He craned his neck as he looked up at the towering high schooler, "It's not your fault."

Taishiro didn't know Hikari's immunity to heat and fire. Trying to pull off a stunt like burning himself up in the inside to try and fry her only backfired completely. She couldn't do anything either, doing her damnedest to keep herself in the stage even if he kept rewounding time. Lucca must have noticed her student's distress in trying to get close to Taishiro to stop him. I really have to treat her to drinks sometime, it's tough being a teacher.

"S.....S-Sensei...."

A broken whimper stopped his trail of thought.

"Ah, sorry. You want me to escort you back to the stadium? Don't worry, I know Fuwa is scary and all, but--"

"........it's not th-that...."

Sato raised a brow and observed her movements. She's always trembling, but...she's shaking pretty badly. The student looks like she just finished crying, puffy eyes, nose and all. She clutched her phone close to her body before opening her mouth again. Hikari recalled the conversation she had on the phone and mustered up all the courage she had.

"I...I need to go home."

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Pillow Talk

Explicit (sex talk so just to be safe: no minors)

Frankie Morales x you (cishet woman, no kids, established relationship)

Summary: We all know that Frankie loves to make you squirt but what he doesn't know about squirting, he has to ask you. (Idk I just felt cute. Enjoy.)

💦💦

”What does it feel like?”

”Hmm?” You crack open one eye to regard Frankie across the bed from you. He’s on his back, one arm angled above his head, hand tucked behind the back of his head. You mirror his position, stretched out on your stomach, arm angled underneath the pillow under your cheek. You're both gloriously naked and enjoying a post-orgasmic slumber.

”Squirting,” Frankie specifies, turning his head to look at you. "What does it feel like?"

You notice a red scratch on his shoulder. Oops.

”What does squirting feel like?” Now you're catching up, but the question still puzzles you.

”Honestly, one might think you’re slow,” he teases you. You grimace at him.

”I wasn’t the one to fuck me until I was crying,” you remind him with some dignity. ”I’m allowed to be a little slow. I’m gonna be sore for days.”

”I'd say I'm sorry but....”

”Same about those scratches. I hope they sting.”

”They do,” he lets you know and you shoot him a brilliant, albeit tired, smile.

”Well?” he prompts.

”What does squirting feel like? Why do you ask?”

”Duh, because I wanna know,” Frankie scoffs. Your brows are knit together as you take a minute to find the right words.

”It feels good?”

”Feels good, well, thank you, that cleared up the whole thing.” Frankie’s voice drips with playful sarcasm. You slap his elbow lazily.

”Asshole.”

”Nope, that’s what you were only half an hour ago…”

”You’re so romantic, Francisco.”

”Sorry,” he offers, sincere now as he turns onto his side and leans over you to kiss you just above your spanked ass. ”Tell me? I wanna know. It’s so… intense.”

”Wet and cold, too,” you let him know, getting up on your elbows and moving closer to him, away from the now soaked towels you were smart enough to put underneath you before the start of your sexscapades. Frankie rolls onto his back again and props a couple of pillows behind him for elevation before grabbing your arm, encouraging you to climb on top of him. You do, and settle astride him, sore pussy resting on top of his messy pubic hair, head resting in the crook between his shoulder and neck. He smells of sweat and cum, just as you imagine you do, as well. In fact, the whole bedroom is impregnated with the smells of your date night acrobatics.

”Still waiting to know,” Frankie tells you, one hand finding yours, the other stroking down the middle of your back, one bumpy vertabra at a time.

”Yeah, okay, I’m thinking.”

He refrains from a witty comeback and lifts your hand to his mouth instead. The kiss is loving and shockingly chaste in comparison to all the things those lips have done to you during the last couple of hours.

”It’s… not like an orgasm,” you start, chewing on your lower lip thoughtfully. ”It feels nice, but it’s not a climax. Sometimes, I barely even register it, it just gets wet and uncomfortable around me.”

”You don’t notice it?”

”Not always. But sometimes I do. Sometimes I know it’s going to happen, I can even control it. It’s like… it’s similar to the feeling I have when building up to an orgasm. But instead of cumming, I squirt. And it feels nice, but it’s not an orgasm, I have to keep going.”

”That I know,” Frankie smirks, tapping two fingertips to the top of your butt crack. ”I always wondered why you don’t just pack it in after a squirt. Or why you sometimes seem so oblivious to it."

"You know when you're dying to pee, and you get to the bathroom, and the pressure is just crazy, and then you get to piss and it's like, aaahhhhhh!" you specify, enjoying the sight of the little goosebumps on his skin where your feigned sigh of relief hits him. "It's similar to that. It feels good, but it's not an orgasm."

"Huh." The little sound he makes is filled with thought and wonder.

”Now you know.” Your voice is trailing off a little; you're getting sleepy.

”Must be weird when it happens the first time,” he goes on. He likes this; finding out sex stuff from you, things he never dared or bothered to ask anyone else. But with you, it’s different. He wants to know if you were the same as him at 12 years old, wanking away every chance he got in his childhood bedroom. How you do it now, what you use, how you make yourself cum. (That, of course, he has first hand experience of. You've masturbated with him watching many times.)

”Yeah,” you acknowledge with a small laugh. ”First time it happened I thought I peed myself. I was mortified.”

A low chuckle makes Frankie’s chest and, subsequently, you bounce a little.

”The guy I was with was so conflicted. He was - "

"You weren't on your own?"

"No, I didn't even know I could do it, I thought it was just something porn stars did. Yay for wholesome sex ed," you roll your eyes. "Anyway, he thought it was awesome but kinda freaky. I think he found it a little gross."

Frankie scoffs. "How old were you? And how old was he?"

"Twenty... five? Ish?" You struggle to remember.

"Fucking piece of immature shit," Frankie growls, his hand splaying open on your back as if that alone could claim you for himself and his very adult skills in bed.

"If it makes you feel any better, he did it by accident and never managed to repeat it," you smile, pressing a kiss to Frankie's neck, where a prominent muscle tells you that he's biting his jaws together.

"It doesn't," he confesses grudgingly. "You should've been fucked properly from the start by men who knew how to treat you."

"We were young. We didn't understand better. And I'm definitely being both fucked and treated as I should now..." You scatter small kisses along his neck and shoulder, shifting a little on top of him so you can free up one hand and cup his cheek. Frankie sighs in contentment and starts to play with your hair as you set your head back down.

”Is it something guys… work for?” he asks, suddenly uncertain if it's something he really wants to know: how the men in your past have been with you in bed. "Making a woman squirt?"

"Some do," you answer with a movement reminiscent of a shrug. ”And they always wanted it too much, it just put pressure on me and made me unable to. I had to work out on my own how to do it."

You smile again, thinking of how lucky you are. "With you it's effortless. You know just how to do it, but you don't expect anything from me."

He presses a kiss to your forehead in lieu of a verbal reply.

"But I gotta say," you go on, "I think internet porn really made it worse for the girls. Anal and squirting and facial cumshots and all of that, there's so much we're supposed to put up with."

Frankie remembers, with some shame, his own excitement and wonder when getting acquainted with porn on the internet. That had been… intense.

”Especially getting jizzed in the face,” you yawn again, your tits pressing against his chest as yours expand with the deep inhalation. ”Why would anyone consent to that?”

Frankie murmurs something. The idea of cumming in your face is not altogether unpleasant. His cock twitches at the thought.

”Oh no…” you mumble. ”Not again.”

”Don’t worry.”

”I’m raw, I can’t –”

”You’re not gonna have to, my love.”

He goes on stroking your back and you doze off when his voice brings you back to the present.

”What’s your personal best?”

”Hmm?”

”How many times have you squirted? In one go, I mean?”

”Men,” you scoff, earning a low laugh. ”I don’t know. Have you ever counted them?”

”Nine.”

”Nine?” You lift your head and find his face painted with mischief.

”Nine,” he confirms. ”And you had three orgasms after that.”

”Imagine that.”

His cock twitches again and it’s definitely a little stiffer now than it was only a few minutes ago.

”I am.” He winks wickedly at you.

Turns out, both of you had one more in you.