#they’re doing much better than they were
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saintobio · 3 days ago
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blue christmas
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a sincerely yours christmas special. non-canon. angst. 900 wc. part of the sy side-stories.
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It was quiet that night. 
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, and the scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air while the warm glow of Christmas lights twinkled on the tree. Outside, snow drifted lazily to the ground, covering the surroundings of your home in a soft, pile of white. It felt peaceful—almost too peaceful—and you sat back on the couch, lounging after a nice Christmas dinner with your teenage son, Sachiro, who cradled a mug of cocoa in his hands beside you.
You smiled faintly, admiring how much he had grown, and how this quiet night seemed so far removed from the all the drama that had once filled your life. But the comfort of the moment didn’t last long before he spoke. His voice, deep like his father’s, broke the silence of your supposed peaceful night. 
“Mom,” he began, “Why didn’t you ever choose to remarry Dad?”
The question hit you harder than expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. Really, what were the right words? You had never been good at talking about these things, and you didn’t expect that your son would put you on the hot seat like this. The past, especially those connected to Satoru—sometimes it felt easier to leave them untouched, forgotten. As it should be. 
You glanced at your son, unsure of how to explain the complicated web of emotions that tangled inside you. “I thought... it was for the best,” you said quietly, voice soft as you searched for something that sounded right. His question was too sudden to be given a decent answer. “You know your Dad and I just couldn’t make it work. And for you, for us, it was better this way.”
Sachiro nodded slowly as if he already knew the answer, yet his fingers tightened around the mug. You could see the way he was processing your words, as if he was hoping for better reasoning. He had never even known the sibling he had lost until recently, the gap that finally forced his father out of your lives. Sachiro only saw the quiet love that both his parents shared, but it wasn’t enough, not for either of you.
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if my sibling were here?” he asked, clearly inciting. “If you kept her, mom. Would she be celebrating with us tonight?”
You felt the ache in your chest as the question landed. You knew Sachiro’s question came from a place of grudge, aiming really well at a spot that hurt the most. And it did good at bringing you a pang of grief from a memory you had tried to bury long ago. You weren’t numb. Of course the loss still stung, even all these years later.
“I think about it all the time,” you murmured, unable to hide the shame in your voice. “What she would’ve been like. How she would’ve looked like. But... I don’t want to remember, Sachiro. I’ve made peace with it.”
But he wasn’t done. “Then, why didn’t you try again?” His voice was so gentle, yet so curious. “Why didn’t you remarry anyone else? I mean... Dad’s married to someone else now. And they’re having another baby. Shouldn’t that be a sign?”
The words felt like a stab to your chest, your heart shattering with an emotion you couldn’t name. Satoru’s life had moved on without you, far far too long ago, yet every reminder of it still cut deep. 
“I’m happy for him,” you said softly, the words stuck in your throat. “But that doesn’t mean I want the same outcome for myself. It’s... complicated.”
Marrying someone else again was not in your books. 
You could feel the intensity of Sachiro’s gaze on you, as if waiting for more. But you didn’t have more to give. You didn’t know how to explain the parts of you that had been shattered, the pieces that had never fully healed. Even if your own son hated you for it. 
“I just want you to be happy, Mom,” Sachiro said, turning away from you, his gaze landing on the Christmas tree. “I want you to have what you deserve. When I have my own family someday, I don’t want you to be spending your Christmas all alone.”
You wanted to tell him everything. How much you loved him, how much you would do for him. How hard it was to move on, how hard it was to see his father moving on with someone else. But the words needn’t be said. At least, not for tonight. 
And then, just as quickly as the moment had come, it faded into a kaleidoscope of memories. The world around you shifted, and the warmth of the fire and the smell of Christmas began to dissolve. Suddenly, you were back in your bed, heart pounding recklessly in the darkness.
You woke up eyes wide in surprise, until the reality of your room finally made sense to you. You blinked, trying to steady yourself. It was a dream. It was all a dream. 
Sighing, you let your head fall into your hands. And just for a moment, you let yourself mourn the future you would never have. The family you would never see, the happiness you could never quite reach.
But as the soft glow of the Christmas lights flickered in the silent night, you slowly allowed yourself to breathe. Tomorrow would come. But tonight, you would let the dream linger just a little longer.
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sunsburns · 2 days ago
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this came to me in a dream last night but imagine bsf!vi spying on you and your date (fem!reader, hints of caitvi x reader)
clearly, violet isn’t the jealous type, there wasn’t much that she was usually up against anyway. she was just… looking out for you—it was hard to trust some random date you met on an app or through some mutual friend.
“you don’t trust anyone, vi,” you said, smoothing the last stray pieces of hair in the mirror. vi stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame like she had nothing better to do, her arms crossed over her chest.
“i trust people,” she shot back. her tone was defensive like you’d accused her of something worse. “i do!”
“right,” you replied, your smile a little too knowing for her liking.
your phone buzzed on the counter, and vi’s gaze flickered to the screen. here, it read. she watched as your expression shifted—nerves and excitement mixed together in a way she didn’t see often.
“they’re outside,” you said, glancing at her. vi didn’t budge, just gave a small nod like she wasn’t planning to leave her spot anytime soon.
“have fun,” she said after a beat,
you grabbed your jacket and stepped past her, pausing just long enough to catch her eye. “don’t wait up.”
vi smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “sure. i’ve got better things to do than babysit your bad decisions.”
and by better things, she meant standing there, riling herself up for no reason. vi lingered in the doorway long after you left, her arms now loosely hanging at her sides. she could picture it too clearly: you sitting at some café, that soft, nervous smile you got when you weren’t sure what to say, your fingers brushing over the edge of your cup, looking as good as you always did. only this time, that smile wasn’t for her. it was for some fucking stranger.
her jaw tightened as the thought settled in. what kind of person even asks you out like this? who were they to deserve your attention, your time? vi didn’t even know their name, let alone what they looked like, but the image of some faceless jerk talking too much, maybe trying to impress you with something lame, was enough to make her roll her eyes.
she wasn’t jealous. she wasn’t.
jealousy was messy, and vi didn’t do messy. she wasn’t the type to get all worked up over something that wasn’t her business. this wasn’t her business. except—what if this person turned out to be trouble? what if they hurt you?
shit, what if you liked them?
“sounds like jealousy to me,” caitlyn’s voice chimed through her phone’s speaker a few minutes later.
vi’s jaw tightened as she paced the room, staring at the faint reflection of herself in the window. hooded sweatshirt, messy hair, no real plan—she looked like someone gearing up for trouble. “shut up, it’s not.”
“uh-huh,” caitlyn said, entirely unconvinced.
vi exhaled heavily, tugging her hood up like it might smother the heat creeping up her neck. “i just… wish i knew what was going on. that’s all.” her voice was quieter this time, almost an admission.
she hated not knowing. not knowing who this person was, what they wanted with you, what you were saying to them right now. were you laughing? leaning in close?
“you just gotta chill,” caitlyn said, her tone softening slightly. “you’ll hear all about it when the date’s over, i’m sure. you’re overthinking this.”
“i have an idea,” vi said suddenly, the words spilling out before she’d fully thought them through.
“oh no.”
a slow, mischievous grin pulled at vi’s lips, and her pacing stopped. her fingers flexed at her side as a plan began to form. it wasn’t smart. it wasn’t subtle. it was terrible. “how quickly can you come over?”
“vi, whatever you’re thinking—”
“just get here.”
——
“i can’t believe you’ve dragged me into this,” caitlyn muttered, her voice low and filled with annoyance as she tugged the brim of her cap down further over her face. the fabric shadowed her sharp eyes, which were darting toward the café window like she was already second-guessing her decision to come.
“you love this,” vi said casually, fiddling with the drawstrings of her hoodie.
“no, vi, i really don’t,” caitlyn shot back, her words pointed but softened by a resigned sigh.
as they approached the café entrance, vi glanced inside, her eyes instantly locking onto you. there you were, seated across from somone who smiled at you. vi hated them already.
caitlyn slipped into a barstool near the window, unfolding a newspaper she’d grabbed from the stand out front. her face was completely hidden behind the thin pages. vi, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as subtle.
her hood was yanked low over her face, and the sunglasses perched on her nose were oversized and crooked, like she’d grabbed them in a hurry. vi hovered awkwardly by the counter, pretending to study the menu even though her eyes kept flicking over to you.
“you’re staring,” caitlyn hissed from behind the paper.
“am not,” vi muttered back, but she didn’t look away.
you were laughing now, that light, effortless kind of laugh that vi rarely saw unless she was the one making you smile. her chest tightened as she watched you tilt your head toward your date, your expression so open, so trusting.
“they’re not even funny,” vi grumbled, narrowing her eyes at your date.
“oh, please,” caitlyn whispered harshly, her exasperation cutting through vi’s muttering. “you’re acting ridiculous. do you even have a plan?”
“i’m working on it,” vi mumbled, finally tearing her eyes away to stare at the drink options on the board. she wasn’t working on anything. she just knew she had to be here—close enough to hear the cadence of your voice.
your date said something else, and you laughed again, this time louder, brighter. vi’s fists curled at her sides as her gut twisted uncomfortably.
“this is a terrible idea,” caitlyn said, sighing heavily as she lowered the paper just enough to glance at vi. “you’re a disaster.”
“shut up,” vi shot back under her breath. but deep down, she knew caitlyn was right.
disaster or not, she wasn’t leaving until your date was over.
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aesthetically-dying101 · 2 days ago
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You mean my wife?!
A/N: a short nanami story bc hes just so.. awooga? Idk if thats the right word but yeah. protective nanami is so scrumptious
warnings: someone being mean?
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The courtyard of Jujutsu High was alive with the sounds of effort: sharp exhales, the rhythmic thud of feet hitting the ground, and the satisfying crack of Yuji’s staff against a wooden training dummy.
You stood at the center of it all, tall and commanding, as the trio of students—Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi—moved through the drills you’d designed for them.
“Keep your stance lower, Nobara!” you called, watching as she lunged forward. “If you’re too upright, you’ll lose your balance against a larger curse.”
“I’m always balanced,” she shot back with a cheeky grin, but adjusted her footing anyway.
You chuckled, shaking your head, the cool breeze carrying the sound to where Megumi stood, quietly but fiercely focused as always. His precision was commendable- but you knew better than to leave him unchallenged.
Because if you did, something would get bitten by his shikigami's.
“Fushiguro,” you said, walking over to him, “you’re relying too much on the shikigami. It’s a team effort—you and them. Don’t just send them in to clean up. They’re not tools.”
Megumi’s eyes flickered with acknowledgment, and he gave a curt nod, his focus unwavering.
“And Yuji!” you turned to him, shielding your eyes from the midday sun-fuck it was too bright. “You’re doing great, but stop hesitating. Trust your instincts, not just your strength.”
Yuji grinned, giving you an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
“Got it, sensei!”
From the periphery, Nanami watched.
He stood a distance away, arms crossed, his polished demeanor as unyielding as ever, but his sharp eyes softened whenever they lingered on you. Though the students referred to you as “sensei,” Nanami knew you had yet to internalize the title, you said it made you feel old. But you carried the role with such natural ease, yet humility kept you from embracing it fully.
Unbeknownst to you, two other instructors lingered at the edge of the courtyard, observing your session with undisguised skepticism. One of them, a senior professor from a separate class, let out a dismissive chuckle.
“She’s passionate, I’ll give her that,” the man muttered to his companion. “But enthusiasm doesn’t make a teacher. She’s a little too green for this, don’t you think? I mean, who even let her—”
A voice cut through the air like a razor.
“You mean my wife?”
The words landed with weight, heavy enough to still the bustling courtyard for a brief moment. Even Yuji paused mid-strike, blinking as though he hadn't heard corretly.
Nanami stepped forward, his strides measured but deliberate, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the vicinity. His tone was calm, his volume controlled, but there was no mistaking the underlying steel in his words.
The professor, taken aback, turned to face him, his mouth slightly agape.
“I—what?”
“My wife,” Nanami repeated, his voice firm, the emphasis on the word clear and deliberate. His brow furrowed just slightly, and he tilted his head, as if daring the man to question him further. “The one you’re so casually criticizing. Do you have a problem with how she’s handling her students?”
The professor faltered, clearly blindsided. “I didn’t—I wasn’t aware—”
“That much is obvious,” Nanami said flatly, cutting him off. “Because if you were aware, you would’ve chosen your words more carefully. My wife is more than qualified, and if you’d taken the time to observe her work—properly, not from the sidelines—you’d know that.”
The air crackled with tension as Nanami’s gaze bore into the man. The professor stumbled over his words, trying and failing to form a response, before finally muttering, “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
Nanami raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mild disbelief.
He clicked his tongue.
“Didn’t you?”
There was no malice in his tone, but the weight of his disapproval hung heavy in the air. The professor, thoroughly cowed, mumbled an apology and hurried away, his companion trailing behind him.
Satisfied, Nanami turned his attention back to you. You, who had remained blissfully unaware of the exchange, too focused on correcting Yuji’s form to notice the brief storm brewing on the sidelines.
“Nanami-sensei!” Nobara called, her voice breaking the tension. “Is it true? Are you two married?”
Yuji’s eyes went wide. “Wait, for real?! Sensei’s married to Sensei?!”
A lot of sensei's in one sentence.
Megumi just sighed, muttering something about how obvious it was.
You finally turned to face Nanami, confusion etched across your face.
“What’s going on?”
Nanami approached you, his expression softening the moment his eyes met yours.
“Nothing to worry about,” he said simply, brushing an invisible speck of dust off his sleeve. “Just clearing up a misunderstanding.”
“...Okay,” you said slowly, still puzzled but willing to take his word for it. “Well, since you’re here, care to give me some pointers? The kids could use a demonstration.”
He gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile, the kind that made your heart flutter no matter how many times you saw it. “Of course,” he said, his tone warming.
“Anything for you, sensei.”
You rolled your eyes and groaned.
And as the students watched in awe, the two of you moved seamlessly into a demonstration, your movements synchronized like a perfectly choreographed dance.
Nanami’s earlier confrontation was all but forgotten—except in the minds of those who’d witnessed it, where the words “my wife” lingered, a reminder of just how fiercely he would always defend you.
A/N: as i said, short n sweet, but yeah, nanami for the win
Masterlist.
:)
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blooperpossum · 2 minutes ago
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I know for a fact I would over endlessly through the surrounding fog. First I would be out late at night, but early enough to get a hotdog from the street seller as his last customer of the night. I stand under the street light as the fog first settles in… and then I hear it
“Hello, welcome. Why don't you take a seat? Get comfortable, relax, take a second if you need to. Now what's bothering you? Well, why don't we start at the beginning?”
I look around frantically trying to find the source of the whispering. But I didn’t need to. Once I sealed that first bite of my hotdog it was like my feet started moving in their own.
“ Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence? Did you have xenon orchid sinews spilling down the outer center of your blooming Escher/Mandelbrot head”
I started fumbling my way to an alleyway that I’ve passed multiple times to this hotdog stand but never had the nerve to walk through. I hesitate at its entrance (I still have the hot dog btw, gripping it tightly in my hand.)
“And how about claustrophilic tendrils clapping caskets closed on seven-knuckled thumbs, did you get along well with the Gideon Bugler pineal glands, your projector eyes casting sci-fi's on your STR'd strands?”
The voice questions to me, or maybe at me? Maybe it doesn’t want a response at all. But it’s definitely drawing me in. I’m still gazing into this long dark alley way, the wind picks up its cold. It’s like cold daggers on my face. It’s a warning not to keep going. It’s no use, I have a terrible habit of doing the exact opposite of what I’m being told. I must keep going. I have to. The voice. The voice is calling for me to.
“Tell me about your nerve to steal nerves of steel from under Bacchus' bloody nose. Did Namibian Himbas tie-dye you, your ears pierced with a Phineas Gage flagpole, did you die before your day?”
I unstick my feet from the pavement. I need to see the voice. I need to ask them if they’re a siren, do sirens even walk on the ground? I don’t know but they should since I am so compelled to find them. As I am getting closer to the voice, I decide I can no longer eat so I toss my hot dog on the ground. (I will regret this decision later)
“hursday traction, Tuesday titration. My hope is to assess through my objective report of your subjective conjecture whether this proprietary blend of expertise and seasoning works as well as this transorbital ice pick”
I am almost face to face to the voice. They’re a tall shadow figure, much taller than I would have thought. (At least 6’2) their aura is menacing. I freeze in place.
“Holistic ballistics, got a better idea? It's about the best we could come up with. What, you think ideas spread because they're good? No, they spread because people like them.”
They step close to me. I cannot back away. I’m frozen in place. I’m entranced to look in their eyes. All I can think about is what they’re going to say next. I want to interrupt their dialogue but my voice gets stuck in my throat. It hurts, and all I can taste is that damn hot dog.
“So here we are once again. Holding, as it were, a mirror up to your mirror”
The voice becomes the loudest it’s ever been. The figure lunges at me. They have a knife. They stab me. I cannot fight back, I am still entranced by their voice. I am frozen. They stab me again. I fall to the ground. I’m grabbing at the wound with the knife. The figure leans down, it gets real close and whispers into my ear..
“I guess it's just something people do”
They pull the knife out of my side. They step over me and out of the alley way. I feel my self going cold as I watch the figure walk away. I see on the ground by their feet that hot dog I abandoned. Now I’m really upset. I should have finished that hotdog if I knew it was going to be the last meal I had. I look into the sky as I can still hear that voice in the distance. This time they’re singing.
“A bloody knife to split your infrastructure, wine to rev your motor function”
Then it fades to black…
You could literallly lure a will wood fan to their death by whisperinng the blackboxwarrior monologue from out of a creepy dark alleyway
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dooberific · 3 days ago
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Hiiiiiii!! Can I ask for Harumasa x Reader angst? They are lovers and the reader is also Harumasa's colleague. Then the reader got commissioned(?) to fight hollows but she got stuck in that place and (idk if they went to fight hollows alone but for this request, they have like underlings(?) that would go with them for the mission) the people/fighters that the reader went with to the hollows came back heavily injured and Harumasa saw that the reader is not there with them. That is all hehe, it's up to you if you want the reader to be found or if they would be a hollow and Harumasa has to fight them knowing that that is the reader (I'm a sucker for angst)
Take your time doing this request and stay healthy, dear author!
Anon….who hurt you on Christmas? 😭. Hope this is close to what you were envisioning!
❝ 𝘚𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 ❞
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harumasa x afab!reader
genre: hurt no comfort, major character death
summary: it was supposed to be a routine mission, now he’s left to pick up the pieces
wc: 2.3k
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There was a ring cut to your size. A thin and silver little band that lacked grandiose ornamentation. Diamonds and frills were never your thing after all, he could still see the little quirk in your lips at the memory of your colleagues rushing in with stones so large you thought them better fit for paperweights than proclamations of their belonging to another under the banner of love and marriage. “Practicality above all else,” you had claimed some months ago, thumbing at the simple band around your index finger. Your late mother’s ring.
He hoped you were the sentimental kind, your voice warbled over the line from the outpost in his ear as he smiled. “I’m just saying to be careful is all.” He asserted, fingers running aimlessly over the silver band resting in his palm. Your initials and his were cut into the inside. 
It was supposed to be your day off, the first you had taken in several months, but when H.A.N.D phoned you that they needed your section of the HSO to assemble for a rescue mission after a Defense Force team had vanished inside of Hollow Zero, well….you didn’t get the luxury of saying no, even if you were the Chief. 
“When am I not careful? Remember which one of us you’re talking to here, Haru.” You chided, the smile on your face so present he could hear it change the lilt of your voice. 
“Right, right, I’m talking to my beautiful, kind, intelligent and all around perfect girlfriend~” Though he hoped that title would be changing very soon, as he held the ring up to the light, the sun filtering through the window of your shared apartment dancing enticingly over its surface. 
You giggled in his ear, the sound warming him to the soul. He could practically see the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled in delight.  “That’s much better.”
The interference in the background of the call amplified, faint callings of your name cutting through the static. You sounded disappointed. “Sorry Haru, I gotta go.”
“It’s okay baby, duty calls. Just try to be home for dinner.”
“Wouldn’t miss a date night for the world, you better not peek in the closet while I’m gone! I want that dress to be a pleasant surprise later.” 
You fell quiet again as you pulled the receiver away from your mouth, yelling a response into the background. “They’re about to have an aneurysm over here,” you huffed. 
“I love you, Haru~”
“I love you too, (y/n)~”
That was a little after noon. It was now nearing midnight and the outpost was crawling with H.A.N.D uniforms and HSO stragglers. Countless outpost scientists shouldered through the crowd, chiming off readings and acting as if they just had a some great scientific breakthrough.
But you were still inside of Hollow Zero.
And H.A.N.D was beginning to withdraw. 
Even flashing his Section 6 badge failed to get him answers despite his insistence, earning little more than the shake of a head and a “this is above your paygrade, kid.”
They threatened to court martial  him if he kept accosting them. But they didn’t have you inside the Hollow like he did. The epitome of his happiness, the one he swore hung the moon and stars, his most constant companion, and the only one he could imagine waking up beside of until the day he expired. 
They didn’t have you, but they had the version of you that made their actions palatable. The “good soldier” and “valiant leader”. The slave to a public that didn’t care to know your name even as you shouldered their burdens as ceaselessly as atlas held the heavens. The one who signed up for a death job.
A chorus of shouts erupted, the flash of the medical units blazing to life under the white spotlights. 
Survivors.
He shouldered his way through the swell of the crowd with little regard for those he pushed aside. In a perfect world he would break from the crowd and see you standing there, a little worse for wear but alive and smiling like you just cheated the world. You would push past the medic teams as they chased you down to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips as you gloated playfully.
“See? What’d I tell you? Safe and sound.” 
But you weren’t there. A cluster of five soldiers stumbled through the outer bounds of the Hollow—no, those weren’t soldiers, they were members of your faction carrying the torn uniforms of Defense Force operatives. They dripped with blood and grime, corruption marring their skin as they limped out, half-dragging others.
“Hey!” He yelled over the roar of the crowd as he grabbed one of them by the shoulder. His name badge shined under the lights. Kimura.
 “Where’s your chief?”
The man shoved his hand away, “Get off me man!”
He didn’t know where he got the strength as he grappled with Kimura before taking two fistfuls of his collar. “Where’s your fucking Chief? Where’s (y/n)?!” 
Multiple pairs of hands tore at his uniform from behind as they hauled him off, legs kicking as he wrestled against their pull.
“Where is she?”
“She’s stayed behind!” 
Kimura’s face was blank, his eyes distant and foggy as he stared at the ground. There were tears streaming down his face as he drew a ragged breath. “I’ve never seen so many ethereals, we were overran so quickly…Chief (l/n) and Deputy Chief Kato created a diversion to draw them away so we could get out.”
Kimura looked up with red rimmed eyes.
“I am so sorry.”
Hollow Zero had mutated. Or that was the story they were telling everyone now. The sensors at the outpost had registered a dramatic spike in etheric energy about 30 minutes after Section 2 had infiltrated, and by the next 20 the bangboo that accompanied you had stumbled out with fried circuits, the carrot it followed now expired as the interior of the hollow rearranged. 
It was supposed to be a standard recovery operation. You had done them hundreds of times in the past.
“I’m sorry, Asaba. My hands are tied.” The officer said with a shake of his head. “No one’s allowed in unless they are operating with their faction. You’re the only one from Section 6 here.”
He gripped his bow tighter. “Then I suggest you turn around and pretend you didn’t see me then.” 
It felt like an electric current thrummed under his skin as he breached the Hollow. He didn’t bother to call the proxy or wait for the association to form a new carrot. There was no point, even as desperately as he clinged to the idea of you being unharmed, alive, there was still a rotten crawl of doubt in the back of his mind that made the thought of wandering forever as an ethereal within Hollow Zero a more palatable choice than leaving here without you. 
He didn’t know how long he had wandered through the hollow, hair matted to his forehead from sweat as he cleared another broken wall, trying to survey as much of the warped landscape as he could. He doubled over, hands braced against his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He had overextended himself already, his chest constricted tightly as his breathing became shallow, a sharp ringing in his ears. He screwed his eyes shut, focusing on getting his lungs back under control.
In and out.
In and out.
There was a distant cry that met his ears, strangled and distorted, one that twisted his gut in an iron grip as his head shot up.
You.
He didn’t know what he hoped to find when he fumbled over the rubble in your direction. Finding you was the sole focus of his mind for the past few hours, the rush of adrenaline carrying his mind past rational thought.
You. You. You.
It urged his tired legs forward, kept him standing as he rounded the corner and saw the torn back of your uniform jacket stretched unnaturally over your crumpled form. 
Even with your back to him he would have recognized you anywhere, even as your body contorted unnaturally, muscles spasming wildly as a distorted cry pierced the air. Your hands clawed as the ground, ugly black shards piercing your skin from within, nailbeds black and bloody where your fingertips had rubbed raw in the dirt.
He knew better than to approach you, to roll you to your back as your body seized and writhed in his grasp, more warbled cries piercing the air.
Your eyes were glassy and unfocused as his hands cupped your cheeks. Your skin was hot to the touch, corruption running thickly in your veins and curling out of your skin like ugly black horns. 
He shushed you gently, cradling your head in his arms as your hands tore at his sides, teeth gnashing wildly as the corruption ate away at your humanity before his very eyes. 
“When I turn into an ethereal one day, I want to you promise that you’ll kill me.”
You lifted your head off his chest. “You sure have a strange idea of pillow talk, Haru.”
He snorted, hands tracing down the curve of your spine as you shivered. “Yeah, I know but still…I don’t want to wander in a Hollow forever like some mindless husk. That’s no way to live.”
You bit your cheek, stretching up to peck him on the lips, his hands gently brushing your hair aside as he grinned against your lips.
“Then I trust you to do the same for me.”
He hated himself. He hated that he remembered that conversation you had over a year ago, begging himself to twist the truth, to convince his own mind that you didn’t know the weight of your words. But deep down he knew he couldn’t deny it, deny you, of the peaceful passing he had asked you to offer him. 
This shouldn’t be an issue for him to face. It shouldn’t be you in the throes of corruption, screaming and tearing at him like an animal as your senses fled you body. 
You were supposed to outlive him. The scales of nature were stacked unmistakably in your favor.
Tears wet your cheeks, but they didn’t belong to you. Hot and salty tears poured down his face as his breath stuttered. Everything about this was wrong, like his worst nightmares spawning into a hellish reality as he begged any god that might exist for an easy way out, begged you for forgiveness, for you to answer him with that same gentle smile that was reserved just for quiet moments with him. 
Apologies burned him from the inside out, like venom on his tongue as he peeled your hands off of him and backed away. His hands trembled so violently he could scarcely nock an arrow, his entire body weak. His vision swam, whether it was from the ether corruption that had dinned his hearing or from the tears that didn’t seem to stop he wasn’t sure.
His lip quivered, breathing unsteady as he stared down at you, your form clawing at the earth before pushing shakily onto your knees. You moved more like a marionette than a human, the skin on your neck crumbling under a sheen of black as the core began to manifest. 
Mournful cries dripped from your cyanotic lips as a hand extended in his direction. It was a moment of lucidity, fingers flexing against the veins of corruption under your flesh.
“Haru, I’m so s-sorry.”
The arrow whistled sharply as his fingers released the bowstring.
.
.
.
There was a ring cut to your size. A thin and silver little band that lacked grandiose ornamentation. Diamonds and frills were never your thing after all, he could still see the little quirk in your lips at the memory of your colleagues rushing in with stones so large you thought them better fit for paperweights than proclamations of their belonging to another under the banner of love and marriage. “Practicality above all else,” you had claimed some months ago, thumbing at the simple band around your index finger. Your late mother’s ring.
They both sat on the table on your side of the bed, the metal cold and lifeless under his dull gaze. 
“Asaba, I know this is hard, but there are people who you can talk to. That can help you.” The voice of Yanagi echoed from the answering machine in the hallway. He let his cellphone die weeks ago. 
“We are just worried about you. Please, call me back.”
Your favorite coffee cup still sat beside the pot in the kitchen, the rim stained pink from your favorite lipstick. Your toothbrush still sat in the cup beside his, your shampoo still in the shower. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb the bag hanging in the closet, you didn’t want him to spoil the surprise of the dress you bought in excitement at the prospect of going out to dinner after all.
His medicine bottles sat empty in the bathroom trashcan, the contents lost to the sewers of New Eridu by now.
His lungs heaved tiredly, a deep wheeze whistling in the back of his throat. His vision never stopped swimming, even after he carried you out of the Hollow, an arrow embedded between your glossy eyes as your blood stained his clothes.
His thumb pressed the space between your eyebrows, your nose wrinkling, eyes warm as you stared at him from your side of the bed, hair fanned across your cheeks. 
“Haru, it’s not good for you to lay around all the time.” You whispered, leaning into his touch as his hand drifted to cup your cheek, thumb teasing your lower lip before you pressed a kiss to the pad.
 “Get up, you need to eat.”
He knew it wasn’t real, that you weren’t real, but he smiled like you were anyways. Like your lips were warm as you leaned in and brushed them against his, like there was weight behind the pull of your hands as he rolled out of bed for the first time in days.
There was a ring cut to your size, and for a little while longer he would pretend it was nestled on your finger. 
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Rey 2024, crossposted to ao3
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lillmirey · 2 days ago
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„Protecting You”
summary: Melissa is your own personal Protector
Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Female Reader
Conten Warning: none just fluff and protectiveness
Word Count: 3k
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The cafeteria at Abbott Elementary was its usual chaotic self. Teachers buzzed around, half-eating and half-grading, while kids darted outside to squeeze in the last minutes of recess. You sat at your usual spot at the far end of the staff table, gently sipping your tea and flipping through a small stack of student essays.
Across from you, Jacob and Gregory were deep in debate over something trivial—probably the merits of classroom seating charts again. Barbara chimed in occasionally, her usual graceful authority effortlessly shutting down Jacob’s more outlandish claims.
And then there was Melissa.
She sat beside you, sipping her coffee and shooting the occasional glare at anyone who looked like they might disturb your peace. It was subtle—most people didn’t even notice—but you’d long since picked up on her habits. Melissa was always watching, always making sure you were okay.
You glanced up and caught her eye. She arched an eyebrow. “You good, sweetheart?”
You nodded, offering a small smile. “Just a little tired. It’s been a long week.”
Melissa’s gaze softened, and she reached over to pluck the essays from your hands. “Go ahead and eat. These can wait.”
“Melissa, I—”
“Eat,” she said firmly, cutting you off with a pointed look.
You sighed but relented, knowing better than to argue. Melissa always had a way of getting her way, especially when it came to you.
Barbara chuckled from down the table. “Melissa, you spoil her too much.”
Melissa shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Someone’s gotta look out for her. She’s too sweet for her own good.”
You felt your cheeks warm as the others laughed.
“She’s not wrong,” Gregory said, offering you a kind smile. “You’re always putting everyone else first. It’s nice to see someone returning the favor.”
You ducked your head, embarrassed by the attention. “It’s nothing, really. I just like helping out.”
“And that’s exactly why you need someone like me,” Melissa said, her voice teasing but her eyes serious.
The day passed quickly, and soon enough, you were back in your classroom, tidying up after your students. You were humming softly to yourself when a knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts.
“Hey, kid,” Melissa called, leaning against the doorway. “You got a minute?”
“Of course,” you said, setting down a stack of papers. “What’s up?”
She stepped inside, her usual confident stride a little slower. “Heard a couple of the kids in your class were giving you trouble today.”
You hesitated, unsure how she knew about the incident. “It wasn’t a big deal. Just a little back-and-forth.”
Melissa’s jaw tightened. “They back-talked you?”
You waved her off. “It’s fine, Melissa. I handled it.”
She crossed her arms, clearly unconvinced. “You don’t have to put up with that, you know. If they’re giving you a hard time, you let me know. I’ll have a word with them.”
You couldn’t help but smile at her protectiveness. “I appreciate it, but really, I’m okay.”
Melissa gave you a long look before finally nodding. “Alright. But if it happens again, you better tell me. Got it?”
“Got it,” you said with a laugh.
“Good,” she said, her expression softening. “Now, come on. Barbara’s got cookies in the lounge, and I know you’ve got a sweet tooth.”
The teachers’ lounge was a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the day. Barbara was holding court at the table, passing around a tin of her famous oatmeal raisin cookies.
“Melissa managed to drag you out of your classroom, huh?” Barbara said with a smile as you entered.
“She needed a break,” Melissa said, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder as she guided you to a chair.
Jacob looked up from his crossword puzzle. “You really do work too hard. Have you ever considered relaxing?”
“I relax!” you protested, though your tone was more amused than defensive.
Gregory raised an eyebrow. “When? You’re always the last one out of the building.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but Melissa cut you off. “That’s because she’s got a heart bigger than her classroom. Doesn’t mean she should be running herself into the ground.”
Barbara hummed in agreement. “Melissa’s right. You need to take care of yourself, dear. You can’t pour from an empty cup.”
You smiled, touched by their concern. “Thanks, guys. I’ll try to take it easier.”
“Good,” Melissa said, handing you a cookie. “Starting now.”
The following week brought its own challenges. A parent had sent a curt email about your teaching methods, and while you knew you were doing everything right, the criticism still stung.
You didn’t think anyone had noticed how off you were until Melissa cornered you in the hallway after school.
“Alright, spill,” she said, her hands on her hips.
“Spill what?” you asked, playing dumb.
“Don’t give me that,” she said, her voice softer now. “You’ve been quiet all day. What’s going on?”
You sighed, leaning against the wall. “It’s nothing. Just a tough email from a parent. It’s not a big deal.”
Melissa’s eyes narrowed. “What did they say?”
“It’s really not—”
“What. Did. They. Say?” she repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument.
You hesitated before finally relenting. “They didn’t think I was challenging their kid enough. Said I wasn’t doing my job properly.”
Melissa’s jaw clenched, and you could see the fire in her eyes. “That’s bull. You’re one of the best teachers in this building, and anyone with half a brain can see that.”
You smiled faintly. “Thanks, Melissa. That means a lot.”
“No, I mean it,” she said, stepping closer. “You work harder than anyone else here, and you care more than anyone I’ve ever met. Don’t let some clueless parent make you doubt yourself.”
Her words were like a balm to your soul, and you felt some of the tension in your chest ease. “You always know how to make me feel better,” you said softly.
“That’s because I care about you, sweetheart,” she said, her voice low and earnest.
Your heart fluttered, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away.
It was the next day when Melissa’s protectiveness hit an all-time high. One of the new substitute teachers, Mr. Whitman, had been overly friendly toward you in the lounge. While you didn’t think much of it, Melissa clearly did.
She stood behind you, her arms crossed and her gaze icy as Mr. Whitman tried to strike up a conversation.
“So, you’re the one everyone’s been talking about,” he said, flashing you a smile. “They weren’t kidding. You’re really something.”
“Yeah, she is,” Melissa said, her tone cool and sharp. “And she doesn’t need you bothering her.”
Mr. Whitman blinked, clearly taken aback. “I wasn’t—”
“You weren’t leaving?” Melissa interrupted, her expression daring him to argue.
He hesitated for a moment before mumbling an excuse and walking away.
You turned to Melissa, a mix of amusement and gratitude on your face. “You didn’t have to scare him off.”
“Trust me, sweetheart,” she said, her voice softening. “You don’t need guys like him hanging around. You deserve better than that.”
You smiled, touched by her protectiveness. “You’re always looking out for me, huh?”
“Always,” she said, her green eyes meeting yours.
And in that moment, you realized that Melissa wasn’t just protecting you because she cared about you as a friend. She was protecting you because she loved you.
And maybe, just maybe, you loved her too.
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listen I am telling you this very important thing. shh listen. it is so much better to temporarily blacklist that Tumblr pal who is irritating you than it is to unfollow them. because over time you will realize that annoying thing they were doing was a phase or that bad attitude they had was a phase, OR that it was YOUR bad attitude making them seem annoying, and YOUR bad attitude is also temporary. and when the phases fade away you will realize it was just a little dumb thing in the grand scheme of your good life together, and in real life you can’t just unfollow your friends when they’re being dumb, you have to forbear with them, and you have to live with the consequences of your own actions.
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richarlotte · 1 day ago
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Modern Helen of Troy.
Delete the apps, and if you’re not willing to, PAUSE YOUR PROFILE. It’s too much; it’s exhausting, and chasing approval or attention on dating and hookup apps will tire you out faster than anything else. When I was on Hinge and Bumble, I was spiritually exhausted, and the best thing I did for myself was delete my profiles and focus on myself and the real world. Having a clean slate, clearing out your inbox and your conversations, and not having strangers barking at your door to be let in will help you rest. If you decide you can handle the apps or you want to have them, take your time and don’t agonize over the outcome.
 
You need to be in the gym or exercising 3 days weekly; my life became infinitely better when I had a workout routine, and moving my body helped alleviate so much of my tension and anxiety. 10,000 steps, proper meals, hydrating, and enjoying caring for my body helped change the way I viewed myself. A lot of people start working out, go hardcore with 7 days a week and intense cardio, and burn out fast. You don’t need to do that to be healthy or look good; a routine as simple as three days of the week and a consistent effort will get you right in no time at all. Consistency and a routine are what will win the race, not everything at first and then nothing at all.
 
You should work on maintaining friendships with people who uplift you and who you uplift in return. Your friends and partners can make the hardest times feel heavenly if they’re the right people; you must choose your friends wisely and then work on bettering and strengthening your relationships with each of them in 2025. In order to succeed, you need to have people around you, and you need to be willing to meet more people; you should be doing more and trying to experience more life, and you should be taking advantage of your youth. I wouldn’t have been able to come as far as I have without the help of my friends, and while isolation felt good to me at one point, loneliness is a beast one can’t battle alone.
 
Education is another essential thing to be focusing on throughout 2025, especially due to the period of time we’re living in. 2025 is all about improving our media literacy, getting diplomas and certifications, reading and writing more, becoming more articulate, learning more languages, and taking the time to relearn how to love learning. You are doing yourself a major disservice if you’re not keeping your mind sharp, learning new things, learning how to identify misinformation, and working on building up an understanding of the world around you. We as human beings were meant for lifelong learning, and if you’re not already doing something to sharpen your mind, now’s the perfect time to choose something fresh and get started.
 
2025 is also the time to work on gaining your independence, no matter your age. If you don’t know how to swim, don’t have your license, can’t ride a bike, don’t have a passport, don’t have a bank account, have never paid a bill, don’t know how to take public transit, or anything similar, now’s the time to get going. I read a great quote here on Tumblr about how you have to choose to wake up one day and take your independence, and I believe in it. Now is the perfect time to just start doing what needs to be done and learning along the way; you don’t need to be an expert, and you should feel no shame if you’re older and learning something new; you just need to be able to steer your ship out of troubled water if needed.
Richarlotte x
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Currently drunk and imagining Green Lanterns being the resident alien experts in the Justice League/Titans/whatever superhero team they’re in
Like, when the JL first got together and Hal learned that two of his teammates were the last survivors of their worlds, he decided then and there that he would always support them in whatever way he could.
(Because as the first- and for a while, only- human in the Green Lantern Corps, Hal knew better than most what it was like to be the only one of his species in a room. It’s astonishingly lonely even when you know your planet and people are still alive and well.)
So Hal asks his ring for information about Krypton and Mars, which holidays their people had celebrated and held sacred, what foods they had enjoyed that he could recreate with ingredients available on Earth.
Hal ends up becoming the third JL member after Bruce and Diana to learn about Superman’s secret identity after Clark has to explain that he came to Earth as an infant and most of his own knowledge of Krypton is as secondhand as Hal’s is. J’onn however, is very touched by Hal’s attempts at baking N’bisko cookies, as it reminds him of when he would make them with his wife and daughter.
Guy inadvertently makes Hal's practices into a tradition when he gets roped into some Fourth World drinking games with Mr. Miracle and Big Barda. Apokolips might be a flaming hellhole, but it was still once home to them both and they do miss it at times. Even in his Warrior years, Guy keeps his pub stocked with food and drinks that are popular in space, in case he gets a hungry visitor from the stars.
From then on, it becomes a duty of their shared legacy. John in his rookie days didn’t listen much to Hal but this was one of piece of advice he did heed: You might end up with an alien refugee as a teammate at some point, and it is your job as a Green Lantern to be there for them when they’re homesick. John was never a member of the Titans, and he's certainly no mentor to the team's alien princess, but he does visit Starfire on days when her banishment from Tamaran weighs most heavily, like the Blorthog Festival.
Kyle had no idea about any of this when he inherited the last ring in the wake of the Corp’s twilight. Expecting him to pick up where his predecessors had left off would have been just another weight to carry on his shoulders. So instead the heroes who'd once been touched by a Green Lantern's kindness now return the favor for their only successor. They tell Kyle about the Corps that were the keepers of peace and justice across the universe for thousands of years. They tell him of how the emerald knights of Oa were brave and kind and loved by so many people.
They tell him these things because they see that the Green Lanterns were more than just an organization of lawmen. They were a legacy, a family, a culture. Unorthodox insofar as that every member was an adopted one, but that only meant Kyle is just as much a son of the Corps as Hal or Guy or John had ever been. He may be Oa’s last son, may not have known that he belonged to the Green Lanterns until their light was all but gone, but he would never have to be lonely.
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 days ago
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what does a barbie mean?
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'hanukkah'
all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!
rated g | 633 words | no cw | tags: established relationship, fluff
🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎
When Steve picks Rory up from her friend’s birthday party, she’s surprisingly quiet. Usually after parties, she’s bouncing off the walls, blaming the cake and ice cream and soda and goodie bags full of candy.
By the time they get home, Steve’s getting concerned at her silence.
“Hey green bean, you okay?” He asks as they park in the garage. Eddie’s at work for another hour, so he has to do this alone.
He got used to not having to do this stuff alone anymore.
“Mhm,” Rory answers as she unbuckles her seatbelt. It’s not convincing and Steve turns to tell her that. She’s not looking at him, though.
“Do you wanna talk about something? Did anything happen at the party?” Steve asks. He shouldn’t push, but he’s worried that someone was mean to her. Rory can handle herself, but she’s still human, and she’s still a kid, and words can hurt.
“Nothing happened,” she says, but Steve’s not convinced.
“You can tell me anything.”
Rory finally looks up at him. “How come Santa doesn’t bring Sarah and Rebecca presents? They’re good all year.”
Oh. Well, this is definitely better than he expected, and way easier to explain or fix. No one bullied her, she’s just confused.
“You know how Sarah and Rebecca celebrate Hanukkah instead of Christmas?” Rory nods. “Well, for Hanukkah, they don’t need Santa to bring them presents because the family gets all the gifts and they have special meanings to them.”
“What does a new Barbie mean?” Rory asks.
“I think it just means that Sarah is six and wants a Barbie,” Steve laughs.
“But how come they have eight Christmases in a row?”
Steve briefly explains what he knows about Hanukkah, which is not as much as he should know.
And they go inside and look up more information, because Rory is a curious child and Steve never wants her to stop learning.
And when Eddie gets home, she starts telling him all about how Sarah and Rebecca get to light a candle every night and their dad says a prayer and maybe they could light their own Christmas candle on Christmas Eve.
That weekend, they go straight to the library to get a book about the dreidel game, and make a stop at the store to find chocolate coins. Eddie tags along, a little confused about how serious Rory is taking this, but enthusiastic about playing any game that leads to eating chocolate.
The fascination with Hanukkah ends rather abruptly two days later, when she hears Rebecca talking about jelly doughnuts. Rory hates doughnuts with fillings.
Steve doesn’t bother telling her that it’s not a requirement to eat them for Hanukkah, and he gives Eddie a look to stop him before he does.
“I think we should just have Christmas like we always do,” Rory says. Steve nods like he knew this would be her decision the entire time.
Eddie leans over to whisper in his ear. “Was there a chance we were converting to Judaism?”
Steve shakes his head. “She did this with Chinese New Year two years ago and Dia de los Muertos three years ago. She’s just a curious kid.”
Eddie nods, immediately understanding and knowing that she’ll probably find another way to celebrate something next year, and many years after that. He was the same way as a kid, even remembers one year when he learned what Mardi Gras was and made Wayne buy them all dollar store beads and a King Cake at the grocery store.
“Can we keep the candles though?” Rory asks.
“Yeah, those are nice candles,” Eddie looks at Steve to confirm.
“Sure,” Steve laughs, fond as he can be over his two favorite people being so in sync, even with something like this. “We can keep the candles.”
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dannyz0ur · 2 days ago
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Tim Wright [MH] — NSFW Alphabet
god did i have fun writing this 😈 and i hope you have fun reading it!!
*all these headcanons are assuming s/o and Tim are already in a relationship, I don’t see him as one to have fuck buddies or one-night-stands.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) It’s a different story between Tim and Masky. One will check up on you, ask how it was and how you feel, if you need anything, and will clean you up if you just wanna cuddle/sleep after. And then the other one is less attentive. At most he’ll lazily clean you up if you insist and bring you water if you really need it and he’s not feeling lazy enough not to do so. And he just won’t stay around longer than necessary, in his mindset he’s got “better shit to do.”
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) I feel like Tim’s and Masky’s favorite body part of themselves is their arms. ‘Cause they’re strong, useful, and Masky loves to easily pin you down while Tim loves holding you.
Now their favorite body part of yours would be your ass and thighs. Idk he strikes me as a thigh man. And ass. Ass and thigh. Masky doesn’t really mind that stuff as long as he’s got a hole to put it in (sorry but he’s just not romantic like that).
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Breeding kink, anyone? Tim would have one. Thinking about knocking you up and making a pretty little family really does it for him. Yk gives him hope that he can have a normal life for a little bit. Even if you can’t get pregnant, he likes to entertain that idea in his head while he’s balls-deep in you. So that means he will cum inside as long as you let him. Oh also he cums a lot, and it’s more thick than watery (bro doesn’t have a balanced diet cmon y’all, with all those blackouts and stuff? yeah I think not).
Masky likes cumming on your face, with your tongue out. Feels like he’s marking you. But also humiliating you. So he gets a little kick out of it.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Tim doesn’t need Masky to front to be stealing your underwear, lemme tell you that. If he could, before you were dating, he was already making a collection of used underwear of yours. Yes he sniffed them while jerking off and yes he sniffed them to sleep sometimes.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) I’d say you’re not his first but, again, he doesn’t strike me as the kind to have fuckbudies or one-night-stands. Ig he knows what he’s doing and he’s a good learner when it comes to what you like, but he’s not like a fuckboy or anything-
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Doggy, leap frog (yk basics from behind, he loves your ass remember?), if Tim’s tired then he’ll let you ride him. Now Masky likes it from behind too but more forceful, he’ll like- make the bed creak and won’t stop til he’s either done or you’re begging him to stop. He might not even stop if you blackout on him, who knows.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Tim’s rarely goofy at all so no. He’s got more of a romantic, focused attitude when it comes to intimacy with you. And Masky just doesn’t talk at all unless it’s to give you a command or degrade you. He fucks you like he hates you. He doesn’t though, he’s more… obsessed with you? Tim’s there cause he’s in love, Masky lets him bc he’s obsessed. Makes sense?
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) we all know our man is hairyyyy and if you don’t mind he doesn’t trim regularly, he can’t bother to do so with so much stuff in his mind. If you do mention it he’ll try to keep it trimmed for you. Don’t expect him to shave entirely (at least not often).
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Ok so. You had to work it out with Tim before he could be comfortable being intimate with you. He’s got trust issues so it took a while before he actually felt comfortable being intimate and vulnerable. Not a bunch of “I love you”s and cuddles the first few times, that happened after a while. Now Masky just… can’t be intimate for the life of him. Ask him to be a little more intimate and he’ll laugh at your face (chuckle, we know he doesn’t laugh a lot).
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Before you? Rarely, like twice or thrice a week maybe. After you? Yk, before dating you but when he was stalking getting to know you? A lot. When he’s with you he prefers to take it out on you, so rarely once more.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) well well well… this is a long one if I elaborate, so lemme just list them…
previously mentioned breeding kink, breathplay, dacryphilia, somnophilia, sadism, corruption, degradation. These are both Tim’s and Masky’s so uh have fun.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Tim prefers privacy, so your/his bed, the shower, etc. Masky doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll have you whenever he wants you. He finds the car the most common place to fuck you in, though. If you’re out doing something or he just came home frustrated and you go out to greet him, he’ll just drag you to the backseat and fuck the daylights out of you.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) For Tim it’s if you’re doing anything domestic. Doing dishes, cooking, cleaning, fixing/cleaning the car? He’s gonna reward you real well later. For Masky it’s whenever he’s pent up or frustrated, he’ll take it out on you by fucking you because he knows he can’t afford to hurt you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Tim hates the idea of actually hurting you. Yk knife play or slapping you. Most he’ll do is spank you and even then he’ll ask if he was too rough and apologize. In contrast, Masky has no restraint. He will do whatever he wants to you, whenever he wants, and you know better than to disobey…
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Oh, Tim gives you head like he’s starving. Not like… not messy and eager like Toby would (Toby alphabet also in production) but he’s relentless, gives you good head and won’t stop until you’re overstimulated. Masky hardly ever uses his mouth on you. Only to tease you to the point of tears and then fuck you into oblivion. And he lovessss to force his thick cock down your throat and gag on it- (sorry)
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) I’m not original at all with this but idc. Tim’s slow and sensual, maybe he’ll go hard and slow as he gets closer to cumming. Masky just… he doesn’t think about that. If he wants to go agonizingly slow he will, and if he wants to rearrange your guts until your hole bleeds then he will.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Tim isn’t a fan. Masky usually fucks you so rough it feels like a quickie.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) As long as you talk it through and already built that trust with Tim, he’s probably open to try things with you. Masky will not ask you if you want to try anything, if he wants to he will. If you propose things to him he’ll laugh at your face (again.)
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Tim can last up to 2 rounds if the first one wasn’t physically demanding, Masky just needs to cum so as long as he does that he doesn’t really need another round. Unless he’s in a mood and wants to torture you. He’ll drag it out no matter how many times he cums.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) I feel like none of them do. If you do have toys none of them would be interested in trying them, but if you want to implement them, Tim would be totally fine with that, just talk it through. Masky would spiral and ask if he’s just not enough or something, so maybe don’t try with him.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Tim doesn’t tease you further than verbally, doesn’t see the need. Masky’s whole deal is teasing you and making you cry for him, so he’s very unfair I’d say.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Loud enough for only you to hear. Grunts and deep, low moans. Masky does not make sound, actually. Somehow he manages to keep it together while making you cry and scream his name.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) If you catch him off-guard you have a chance to hear Tim whimper, but it’s a rare chance. Like, riding him and you kiss a hickey on a specially sensitive part of his neck, and you’ll probably get him to whimper.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) ok so as previously stated, hairy, all over. Strong arms and overall chubby yum yum 🤤 now about his size I’d say average, about 6.5-7 inches and thickkk you’ll feel that dick all the way inside you every timeeee
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Tim’s is not that high, I’d say average. He’s usually busy and tired, most he’ll do is lazy, cuddly sex if you two really need it. Masky’s a little higher but because that’s his coping mechanism for when he’s frustrated.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Tim falls asleep after making sure you don’t need anything else, he falls asleep easily cause he’s with you and you tired him out hehe. Masky doesn’t even stay in bed after he’s done with you. He’ll go out either for a smoke or to do anything else.
hope you stuck around and liked it as much as i liked writing it 🤤 remember reqs are open! here's the list of characters i'll write for!
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halfahundredcats · 3 days ago
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There are so many times on here when I’ve seen a post where op is relating an astoundingly bad take they’ve seen somewhere, and I’ve always kind of been confused, like where are they even seeing this. I’ve curated my dash within an inch of its life, and I rarely see fandom discourse or drama except posts that (often vaguely) talk about it second-hand.
Well, I understand now, y’all. You probably weren’t seeing it on this hellsite. You were seeing it on a different, worse hellsite (namely, Twitter). Because I’m on Bluesky now, and while it so far seems to be much better than Tweeters, I haven’t yet had the chance to wield my block and filter functions as robustly, and I’m now coming into contact with some of those astoundingly bad takes.
I’ve seen comments on the DJenks Holiday Special Thread saying things like “Oh Stede understands now why Izzy was so mad all the time” and “managing Ed’s whims really is a full-time job,” and just. Fucking. No. No, Stede doesn’t relate to Izzy now because they are very different fucking people with very different fucking relationships with Ed. Being an angry dick has never been Stede’s way of doing things, with anyone, much less Ed. Stede’s brand is Sassy Bitch, and I feel like Ed isn’t even on the receiving end of that very often. Let’s not forget, it’s been two years, and they’re running the inn successfully. Ed is taking joy in setting up a beautiful dining table. He’s bragging *about Stede* when Stede breaks in to ask for his help. This is not a relationship plagued by constant disagreements. It’s not “trouble in paradise.” Ed saying he’s more of a “front of house guy” is clearly Dad slipping in a callback to the bts we all enjoyed so much. (Now it’s true that Ed is kind of ADHD-ing it in these scenes, hyperfocusing on setting the table and getting distracted in his storytelling instead of noticing Stede is slammed. I did see someone say that Stede is going to use his Captain Voice, and that definitely feels like the vibe to me.) It’s not like they’re never going to have little disagreements, but these two didn’t literally fight their way back to each other to be undone by the mundane pressures of running a small business together. And why would you want them to? Why would you want to look at this grand and beautiful love story and think “but consider how cool it would be if they ended up hating each other?” Do you watch The Princess Bride and enjoy imagining Westley and Buttercup’s eventual divorce? Not everything has to be drama and cynicism and people being terrible to each other. I especially do not think that David Jenkins is taking his Barbies in that direction in his fanfic of his own show.
I’m putting this here instead of responding to ppl on Bsky because I really *don’t* want to get involved in the Disc Horse. I’m just blocking ppl on there whose takes I don’t like. That is ultimately the way to enjoy your fandom. Focus on the stuff you like, don’t get bogged down arguing with haters. So this is probably the only thing I’ll say about this. Anyhoo!
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rrtfs-official-blog · 10 hours ago
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I ‘so I’d not reblog much of this blog, BUT OH MY GOSH. This encapsulates a lot of the Engines of Somewhereica! The wanting to do what they were built for, and feeling betrayed, useless, or just downright guilty when they’re sent for scrap or called useless or a failure when they’re an experimental engine who didn’t work out. I love how poetic this is, it hits oddly hard. I love this, thank you OP, you put it into words much better than I ever could’ve.
Humor me but I was trying to explain to my friend about how it feels to enjoy trains. Even as a novice I cannot help but romanticize them and wanted my friend to see through the mind of an engine or how I imagine an engine sees itself.
Imagine being so strong and nothing can really hurt you. You’re in a perfectly safe space made just for YOU (the rails) And your job is to go FAST as fast as you were made to be. Or to be strong and to be as strong as you were made to be. You were made to be fast and strong! There was intention in your design. Science, engineering, something real, something you aren’t taught to believe in the walls of a church. Power you can touch, see, and feel. You are imagination made real!
A person has to live under constraints and social pressure. And although you were made for people, their rules that restrict you like speed restrictions or what color you must be painted will never eclipse the truth of what you are and what you were meant to be.
Imagine being a thing built to work and LOVING to work and WANTING to work and when you’re tired, there are people who will fix you and you pay them with your work which also pays you! You are compensated by your mere existence and your usage! And people tell you you’re marvelous and strong and beautiful and it’s true because you are!
It’s like!!! Living an absolute perfect truth. And when you’re speeding down the track whistling as loud as you can for you’re meant to be loud and going as fast as you can because that’s what you’re meant to do; when you’re doing that, you’re living in perfect happiness.
The happiest one could ever be! No biological desire no concept of denying yourself your ultimate calling. Just doing what you’re made to do and loving it unconditionally. And being praised for it and never needing money because it means nothing to you! Incredible.
I just think it would be the most amazing feeling ever. But also!The saddest feeling to be broken! To be unused and waiting in a museum or a siding or a scrapyard. To be told you’re useless. To be melted down for some unknown purpose and to never feel the wind across your frames again and to never scream at your highest pitch that you’re alive and you’re loud enough to drown out the rest of the world! To be silent and only to take up space until you are removed from the beautiful rails and destroyed.
To no longer be what you were made to be. So cold you crack and rust away. And people only speak of your glory in past tense and blame you for things you couldn’t control.
Didn’t I do a good job?
Didn’t I pull? Didn’t I push trucks around nicely? Didn’t you get to where you needed to go? Did I ever treat your destinations as unimportant? Did I ever ask you to justify the direction I took you in? All I ever asked was to be what I was meant to be.
Now you say I’m too expensive. That I take up space. That no one will take care of me anymore. That I’m bad for the Earth I was made from and the living things on it I was made for. Why is this my fault?
Why is any of this my fault? When you made me this way?
Didn’t you benefit from what it took to give me power? Weren’t we all working together? I’m not sorry. I’m just sad.
So many times that came that never had to. So much work left undone. If I were an engine with my life cut short, how I’d cry over the loss of what could have been!
But no one would hear me. I can only be heard when I’m doing what I was made for. My truth only can be spoken when I’m given a voice.
I don’t know! I think trains are neat.
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milykins · 11 hours ago
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Poly Dad HCs
Taking the Dad HCs to the next level we have the poly dad HCs. I couldn't help but imagine how things would go if the Reader had children with two or more of the Bayverse guys. I've done all the pairings I could think of. My personal favourite is Blood Orange.
TW: Depictions of poly-type relationships and reverse harem-type relationship (All four with one woman), aged up characters.
Special thanks to @sophiacloud28 for checking it over for me!
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Leo and Donnie (Blurple) 💙💜
Parenting children would be fairly harmonious because these two dads are. On. The. Same. Page.
Both have similarly calm demeanors and will likely will be reflected in their kids as well.
They may disagree on the question of who parented who. Leo would prefer to be kept in the dark whereas Donnie would be curious about which ones are biologically his. He would never voice it, though. He loves them all equally of course.
Donnie does the science side of things while Leo covers the spiritual and martial arts side.
They do clash sometimes with the science vs. spirituality argument and may disagree on certain things like bedtime. Leo is fairly strict on certain aspects. The children must have a routine to keep things running smoothly and he is very unmoving on .
Donnie will do his best to follow said routines but is a little more relaxed. Just one more book Leo, then he promises he’ll put the kids to bed. Leo can be persuaded… usually by you, to relax a little bit.
On discipline Leo is definitely the tougher of the two. At times being too hard on the kids. Donnie will step in with a gentler approach, using logic and understanding to solve things. He doesn’t undermine Leo’s discipline techniques but rather shows him that there is more than one way to deal with certain issues.
Between these two their kids are loved, fed, safe, and well taken care of with clear boundaries set to teach them right from wrong.
Raph and Mikey (Blood Orange) ❤️🧡
These two dads may not always be on the same page but they absolutely love their kids. They’re both protective as heck too.
They complement each other well in certain aspects. Mikey does the fun dad thing, while Raph is more on the quieter side. The kids get the best of both worlds.
Neither of them care to know which ones are biologically theirs but it tends to be pretty obvious with certain inherited personality traits.
Surprisingly enough, Raph is the one who ends up sticking to things like a bedtime schedule. In the beginning, Mikey is so lax on it he would let the kids just fall asleep where they may and eat when they were hungry. Raph had to be the one to reel him in, fix up a bedtime schedule and have regularly scheduled meals. It only took one week of no rules or schedule and the two of them had their hands full with grumpy, tired and wild off the rails children. You and Raph end up having to sit Mikey down and explain gently, (on your part, not so much Raph’s) that the kids need some structure. Luckily, Mikey is so easygoing that he easily agrees to the routine and some clear rules and boundaries.
On discipline, Raph starts off being way too hard on the children with some pretty harsh punishments. This is where Mikey actually has to reel him in.
Raph ends up making one of them cry and Mikey is dad mode activated. He asks Raph if he really wants to be that type of parent, the one who scares his kids into behaving.
Despite his stubbornness, this actually sparks a moment of clarity for Raph. After that, he’s softer. He learns that there is a better way to teach his children respect and discipline.
On your part, it’s a bit of a challenge keeping these two on the same page but the one thing they agree on is how much they love their children, and you.
Leo and Mikey (Synergy) 💙🧡
This pairing might also be a little more challenging due to how drastically different these two are. Leo often feels Mikey is like an extra child on top of their biological ones.
They are both unconcerned with which ones are ‘theirs’ all children belong to both of them no matter their personality or who they resemble more.
Leo tries to impose a strict routine early on and expects Mikey to just follow it. Wishful thinking on his part you would say.
Mikey does at first… but easily finds loopholes to get around things like sneaking the kids treats before dinner, reading just one more book at bedtime and citing that there’s just five more minutes on the movie they’re watching.
At first it drives Leo crazy and he wastes a lot of energy trying to push his younger brother to fall in line. So many lectures on why a routine is important and deviating from it will cause unwanted behaviours etc.
Mikey may be the fun loving easygoing one out of the two of them but he will not be steamrolled by his brother. He does stand up to Leo when he sees fit because he’s a parent too and he has a say in how their children will be raised. Leo doesn’t expect this and along with you gently pushing him to actually listen to his brother for once.
With your help, Mikey actually gets Leo relax a little with his strict schedules and rigid discipline ideals.
The most incredible thing that happens as a result is Leo learning how to have fun and actually play with his kids. Mikey and the kids rope him into dance parties, tea parties, pillow fights and the like.
At first Leo is fairly awkward feels out of place but then he finds he secretly loves it.
Mikey brings out his playful side and Leo in return helps Mikey be calmer and more apt to raise the children with some healthy boundaries. Discipline, kindness, honour and a huge amount of love is how this parenting relationship would go.
Mikey and Donnie (Wise Crack) 🧡💜
Coparenting between these two is a pretty relaxing affair. Both employ gentle parenting techniques and both would need guidance from you on discipline practices and routines.
Just enough so that the kids don’t walk all over them. Once they have that down, the two of them would likely get along pretty well and be on the same page for the most part.
Donnie is still the fun science dad and Mikey is the fun playful dad. Between these two, their children are never bored.
Donnie might need ‘resetting’ from time to time, getting too consumed in his work, wrapped up in his projects and spending too much time in his lab. This is where Mikey comes into play.
He will team up with the children and ‘bully’ him into leaving his work and spending time with them. He’ll play directly into his love of science and all things technology-related too.
He’ll schedule a visit to the museum, the planetarium or plan some fun science experiments, bonus if they end up exploding and Don has to step in before someone (likely Mikey) hurts themselves. He does these things even though science tends to be pretty boring to him, but the kids absolutely love it. Mikey ends up learning how to like science as a result.
Donnie, in turn learns the importance of spending time with his children and cuts down on his work in the lab for good.
The children, and you of course are much better off with two committed, available dads that love you and their children more than anything.
Raph and Leo (Viole-n-t) ❤️💙
Oh, these two… they barely like sharing YOU, parenting their collective children is a whole other challenge in itself.
Raph automatically pushes back on Leo’s strict schedule and boundaries without a second thought.
The two of them undermine each other constantly when it comes to their chosen parenting practices. These are two strong-willed men with very stubborn personalities.
Raph says screw the schedule and lets the children stay up later or Leo steps in during Raph’s training sessions to take over because he can ‘do it’ better. Unfortunately, it ends with the two of them arguing it out and fighting in front of the children.
You, the matriarch of the family has to knock them down a couple pegs.
The two of them begrudgingly agree to a ‘truce’ because you are actually the logical one in this situation and point out the fact that they’re acting like children themselves and their behaviour is upsetting everyone. The one thing these two do agree on is having the kids feel safe and happy, so much so that they’ll swallow their pride and try to get along.
With more prompting you’ll get them to agree to split the fatherly responsibilities right down the middle.
They both are in agreement and things like bathtime, bedtime, meal times and playtime all get organized, you tackle the discipline issue with them as well.
You are quite clear that neither one of them are to undermine the other in terms of discipline and you all agree on one technique, firm but gentle.
Leo and Raph can manage to put their differences aside for the sake of their family and there will be rare moments where the two of them do get along.
Neither can resist their little ones asking if their ‘daddies’ can play dolls or cars or make-believe. Neither can say no to the innocent requests of their little ones.
You manage to snap some adorable photos. Raph wearing a feathered boa and a silly hat, and Leo with his pinky out sipping a tiny cup of ‘tea’. They both learn how to relax and actually be better parents and surprisingly nicer to each other as well.
Raph and Donnie (Magenta) ❤️💜
A bit of an odd pairing, but we’re doing it. Raph and Donnie would be a similar dynamic to Raph and Mikey except Donnie would be more on board for establishing a routine.
These two might butt heads over education. Donnie would be absolutely serious about making sure the children have a proper education.
Raph would be more lax about it, stating that it’s not a big deal, just teach them to read, that’s all they need, don’t they? He’d figure his children would be raised with just the minimum amount of knowledge like he and his brothers were.
Donnie would vehemently argue that their children deserve way more than just the bare minimum. He’ll get really heated over it, stating that the kids need more than just learning how to punch things.
You will have to step in at this point to calm them down and it might take a few discussions to get Donnie to relax a little and for Raph to embrace the idea that training their minds is just as important as training their bodies.
They can easily split responsibilities on that. Raph and Donnie embrace the idea that their kids will be smart and strong.
In the end, these two are great fathers in supporting their children in whatever they choose to do. They get along well and coexist rather peacefully together.
All Four (Fruit Salad) 💜❤️💙🧡
If you somehow manage a relationship with not one, not two but all four of the brothers, raising children with them will be an interesting affair.
At first you don’t discuss the matter, but after spending mating season with them and giving each one adequate time, you do wind up with a surprise pregnancy.
There’s no telling who the father is though until after the baby is born and all of you do agree to use DNA testing to determine the actual father.
The result does spark a discussion about future children and in the end you agree to give each remaining brother a mating season and a child. It takes a few years of spacing out the pregnancies but each of them will end up with a biological child by the end of it.
Parenting these children actually isn’t as difficult as you might think. It all comes back to the age-old saying: it takes a village to raise a child.
They are a team after all, and they all raise the children collectively as one.
All of them do take advice and pointers from you and try not to undermine each other.
It does take some planning, discussions about schedules and routines to get them all on the same page.
By the end of it the children have four caring, loving fathers who would do anything for their little ones. They all balance each other out quite well.
There’s Mikey’s fun, playful, affectionate nature, Leo’s calm, peaceful demeanor, Raph’s passionate, protective way of being and Donnie’s quiet softness. You get this and more with this type of family dynamic and you wouldn’t change it for the world.
Taglist
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@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28
@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie
Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist
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andre-and-cal · 1 day ago
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Cal and Andre w/ Cal’s siblings,,
Calvin enjoys watching Andre play with his little brother and sister when he comes over. It brings him a sense of contentment, seeing how much Andre cares for his siblings as if they were his own. After all, they’re just innocent kids who’ve never had the chance to experience emotional agony or to serve as the butt-end of a joke between their classmates at their school… classmates who don’t care for their existence and who pick on Andre and Cal for anything they can see. Especially Andre.
There have been times, sure, that girls were mean to Cal’s sister or if some boys pushed his little brother down at the playground. When they talked to him and Andre about it, Andre would threaten to call their parents or “beat them up”— which he wouldn’t do, of course. Andre would never beat up someone younger than him— let alone a child. He’d yell at them or order them around, but he wouldn’t throw a punch. Yet it always makes Cal’s little siblings laugh or feel a little better. Hearing the youthful joy in their squeaky laughter does make Cal feel something inside, even just a little. Something other than rage, self-loathing and numbness.
Cal feels a lot of pleasant things inside whenever he’s around Andre, of course, when they’re together or talking on the phone or chatting on different websites on the computer. But when he’s left alone, he’s left with the weight of his depression and the underlying darkness that resides within him.
Calvin doesn’t necessarily feel guilty about leaving his little brother and sister— among others— behind. He is very selfish especially toward that aspect, and he doesn’t think of how they’ll feel after Zero Day. In some ways, he doesn’t want to picture the shock on their smiley little faces, their innocent confusion after hearing the news that him and Andre were the gunmen and that they were lying dead within their school. Cal thinks they’ll be better off without him, without the looming negativity he feels he radiates when he’s around his family, even if he’s in a good mood. Besides, Zero Day is more important than anything to him— besides Andre. Andre and Zero Day are basically at the same level of importance for Cal, Andre if not a little more. Which is why Cal convinced Andre to shoot himself with him after the shooting. He knew he was going to fall, and he wanted Andre to fall right along with him.
As for Andre, he occasionally does feel a little downcast toward the knowledge that they’re leaving Cal’s siblings in the aftermath; the horrific mess they’ll leave behind after their attack— if he’s thinking about them, of course. Sometimes, when he’s “thinking too much”, his mind wanders to what will happen to his family and Cal’s family after the shooting… after he and Cal “flee the state”. Even his own older brother, who he doesn’t really talk to anymore, especially after he left for college. His thoughts toward the matter also differ from Calvin’s, since Cal knows what really is going to happen to them both. Because Andre doesn’t know that he’ll be dead after the massacre, that they’ll be dead, that their bodies— mangled as a result of suicide by gunshot wounds— will be buried six feet under with two white crosses, symbols of peace looming over them, somehow representing the vengeful monsters who carried out Zero Day.
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kawoala · 2 days ago
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IM SO SHY SENDING THIS RN OMG
Just saw you want requests, and I was thinking (not something good for me, btw) 😇😇 about 😇😇 kita w a really shy!reader and he asks the miya brothers for help, and they say that he should flirt w reader 😭😭😭
IK YOU DONT REALLY WRITE FOR KITA AND THIS MAY BE HARD FOR YOU BUT I LOOOOOOOOVVVEEEEEEEDDDDDD WHEN YOU WROTE MY LAST REQUEST W HIM IT WAS SO GOOD I WAS SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP RAINBOWS IT WAS SOOOOO GOOODDDD UUUGHHHH
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𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐀 year and a half word count ; (719) content warning ; (request, more fluff haha, social anxiety! reader, asking someone out, advice from the miyans)
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You’re nervous. But, for you, that’s normal. Your fingers are in your lap as you tug at your fingers— a response to your constant anxiety. Your classmate is almost finished with their presentation, meaning that you’re up next. Your heartbeat quickens. You hate speaking in front of the class.
Beside you, Kita bounces his leg. You know it’s not out of nervousness, like it would be for you. He’s always relaxed like that. You’re not sure if he’s ever been nervous in his entire life. His fingers drum against his desk. He looks bored.
Your classmate finishes their presentation and a round of applause startles you out of your nervous haze. Kita clears his throat and stands. You do the same.
After you finish the presentation, you realize you were making a much bigger deal than you should have been— like always. Your face is hot when you sit down and you know your cheeks are a different color than the rest of your face.
You lay your forehead down on the table and let out a weak sigh.
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Kita knows you get nervous. He knows you get nervous, because he likes to stare. He knows you get nervous because of the way you change color so fast, the way you pull on your fingers. He knows because he likes to pay attention.
You started at Inarizaki in the middle of his second year. Almost immediately, he recognized just how smart you were. You didn’t advertise it like others, but your grades were always the highest in the class. He also recognized that you were beautiful. Kita had never been one for crushes, but he knew that what he felt for you was a crush.
Throughout the next year and a half, he had tried to get your attention. He had gone out of his way to try and get your attention. But nothing seemed to work. 
He would make you food under the guise of simply “making too much” and you would refuse to take it, saying that he might need it after practice.
At least you knew he was on the volleyball team.
When he would ask for help on his homework— even though he didn’t need it— you would tell him of another classmate that was far better at teaching things.
All of his attempts were unsuccessful and it was driving him crazy. So, the day of your presentation, Kita goes to the twins for help. He knows it’s a bad idea, but what has he got to lose?
“Ya gotta impress her, Kita-san,” Atsumu says, popping a potato chip in his mouth. “Girls like it when you do impressive shit.”
“No, you gotta be straightforward,” Osamu says with a sigh, shaking his head. “Girls like her— shy girls, I mean— gotta be told straight up, or they’re going to think you’re just being nice.”
Kita takes Osamu’s advice, because even though Atsumu seems like a ladies man, Osamu has had two girlfriends and Atsumu has had none.
So, the next day, after class, Kita asks you to wait a moment. When everyone has left the class, he turns to you and takes a deep breath. “Do you want to go on a date with me, Y/n?”
He watches you blink a couple times, watches your face change colors, and briefly wonders if he should have taken Atsumu’s advice instead.
“Um, me?” You ask, pointing at yourself. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and look away from him. “I don’t… Is this a prank? It’s not very funny, Kita-san. You’re supposed to be the nice one.”
Kita doesn't know what that’s supposed to mean, and he doesn’t want to. “It’s not,” he says simply. “I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you out for the last year and a half.” You look up now and he smiles softly. “It’s not a prank.”
Again, you blink dumbly. He can hear when you swallow. “Okay,” you whisper, nodding. “I mean, yes. That sounds, um, fantastic.”
Kita’s smile grows and he nods triumphantly. “Okay. I’ll text you the details tonight, alright?”
You nod again and, that night, when Kita goes to practice, he gives Osamu a firm handshake and makes Atsumu run three laps for the objectively dumb advice he had given.
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