#was kinda fun drawing the kick poses though

[sernik-krakowski]

How the fuck did he not die? [sound volume warning!]

[skzdarlings]

06. sharing a bed series ; skz ; felix

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 6/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. bodyguard au. a dose of angst. open ending. past violence and parental abuse mentioned. ongoing perilous situation and forced proximity. not the healthiest dynamic lol. spanking, some rough play, hair-pulling, throat-grabbing, overstimulation, crying during sex, mention of past unprotected sex, a more dominant felix and a kinda bratty reader.

-

You kick open your bedroom door.  As usual, no one is home except for you and Felix so you are free to scream and curse and stomp all you want. 

“I can’t fucking believe you!” you shout among a flurry of other colourful words.   

Felix enters behind you with his hands in his pockets, looking as nonchalant as ever. 

Felix’s perpetual calmness is half the reason your father hired him.  The other reason is that Felix was the best behaved boy in the world who grew into the most pristine, perfect man.  Your father did not claw his way to the top of the industrial world by settling for anything less than the best.  Lee Felix is the best.  Your father trusts him with everything and anything, including wrangling his rambunctious daughter.  Felix’s job is to guard and protect you – from others and from yourself.   He is annoyingly good at it.    

Felix is the prettiest, loveliest, sweetest man on the outside, particularly selected for his unassuming attributes.  An obvious bodyguard figure draws unwanted attention.  Felix, however, attended high school and college with you, posing as a fellow student and never looking out of place, always appearing gentle and ordinary and kind.  Behind that, he is a lethally competent bodyguard.  Your skinny, freckled, fair-haired watchdog can subdue any adversary. 

Including the one tonight. 

“I was just doing my job,” Felix says.  He closes your bedroom door and locks it out of habit even though you are home alone.  He is still completely uncaring to your crisis, as fucking usual, wandering around like he is a sensitive little lamb, smiling and content. 

You throw yourself down on your bed with a dramatic heave. 

“You broke his arm!” you cry.   

Felix is standing at your desk, removing his work equipment.  He is dressed like a civilian for the most part, denim pants with a windbreaker and a button-down over a t-shirt.  He lays the jacket over the back of the chair and sighs, looking at his reflection in your vanity mirror.   He runs a hand through his hair, still casual, feathering the dyed locks so they flutter back into place.   

“I was just doing my job,” he repeats.  He undoes the button-down and tosses it aside, then kicks his shoes under the desk.  

Felix is all sharp lines and harsh angles, slender but athletic.  His cheekbones are high, his angular face softened by his dark eyes and endearing freckles.   That sweetness is juxtaposed by the gun harness strapped across his back. 

You swallow.  The harness hits the floor, then he grabs the back of the t-shirt and yanks it swiftly over his head.  It joins the pile of discarded articles. 

He sits on the desk chair with a distracted sigh, dutifully disassembling the gun for an inspection or cleaning or whatever nonsense Felix has decided is more important than your conversation.  

“His arm,” you repeat.  “You broke his arm.  He was a completely innocent guy!  I’m allowed to flirt with guys!  Just because you’re my daddy’s good dog and he doesn’t let you get your dick wet, doesn’t mean I have to suffer too.” 

Felix looks at you, his mouth a thin line with his unamused smile. 

“Cute,” he says.  He drops the smile and his distinctive deep voice drops another decibel when he says, “You can flirt.  Just not with him.”

“His arm—”

Felix closes the gun and puts it on the desk. 

“I think he was lucky I didn’t rip it off for grabbing you like that, don’t you think?”  Felix says.  He asks it so nicely too, tipping his head imploringly, like he really wants an answer.  Not that he waits.  Just as soon as the smile comes, it goes, replaced with a eye roll as he gets to his feet. 

“Get ready for bed,” Felix says.  “And, mmm, that’s not a request by the way.  I’m phoning your dad to tell him we’re home safe.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just leaves the room while reaching into his back pocket for his phone.  He closes the door behind himself, leaving you to fume by your lonesome. 

Out of rebellious frustration, you do not budge an inch.  You cross your arms and sit back on your bed, still dressed in your evening outfit.  You can distantly hear Felix speaking in a formal voice and it makes you twitch with anticipation. 

Felix being so professional is simultaneously his most annoying and most attractive quality.  Annoying, because he really never falters on the clock.  Attractive, because it wouldn’t be any fun pushing him to the boundaries of his rules if he wasn’t such a stickler in the first place.

When Felix returns, still wearing nothing more than his jeans, his expression immediately turns exasperated.  He closes the door and puts his hands on his hips, staring down at you.  

You stare straight ahead, arms and ankles crossed.   You and Felix have shared a bed since the day he was hired, back when you were teenagers, as you were in the habit of sneaking out at night.  You were not intimidated by the chubby-cheeked teenage boy, gleefully slipping past him while he slumbered – until suddenly you were being yanked back through the window.  You learned the hard way that despite his appearance and disposition, he was an especially skilled martial artist.    

As your father continues to accrue enemies in every market, you cannot live life on your own, not without endangering it.  You still need Felix.  You still share a bed.  Everything you do, you do with Felix, whether you like it or not.  Felix expresses little feeling on that front, a perpetual font of seeming sunshine when he isn’t breaking someone’s arm.

You know you are being mightily petulant by keeping him up, but you don’t care.   If you can’t have what you want then neither can he.   You can stay up all night, just staring and glaring at each other contemptuously.  You are happy to let all that mutual disdain simmer through its achingly slow burn. 

“Really?”  Felix says.  “Do we have to do this tonight?” 

“I’m not doing anything,” you say.   

“Right.”  He laughs dryly but sits gingerly on his side of the bed.  He smiles, his eyes crinkling sweetly with pleasure.  His hair is getting longer again, sweeping his neck, and you watch as he delicately tucks some behind his ear.   He leans on one arm, looking at you.  “I’ll ask you nicely then, sweetheart.” 

Ooh, that’s a low blow and he knows it.  The word sweetheart always sounds so rich in his mouth, his accent softening the heart of it.  Hopefully he misses the way you melt, but you doubt it. 

His smile only deepens. 

“Please, please get ready for bed,” he says.  “It’s been a long day, yeah?  And we’re both so tired.  Come on.  Let’s go.  Just need some rest I think.  Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” 

You do not move.    

You hear him sigh, a melodic sound.  He runs his hand through his hair again. 

“All right,” he says, soulfully.  “All right.  Fine.” 

You hear the sharper inflection in his tone but you react a moment too late.  Your bed is big, big enough you could starfish without even brushing his side of the bed, so it takes you a second to scamper to the opposite side. 

That second is too long.  Felix reaches out and grabs you by the calf, dragging you across the bed.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, kicking at him to no avail.   “I’ll phone my dad!”

He is completely undeterred by your dramatics, only sighing when he hauls you over his lap. 

“Go ahead,” he says.  “I’m allowed to use, uhhh, what’d he say… discretion… mm… to discipline you if I think I need to.” He puts his phone within your reach.  It is not a genuine gesture of goodwill so much as it is taunting you because you both know your father would take his side.   “Well?” he asks.  “Do you want to phone him?”   

“I hate you,” you say.

“I know,” he replies.  “Sorry.” 

He sounds like he means it, though it’s hard to believe him when he flicks up your dress and swings his open palm across your ass.  His hand comes down four more times before he neatly fixes your skirt again. 

“Bed time?” he asks brightly, like everything has been solved with no problem. 

You crawl off his lap while grumbling irritably, doing your best to ignore the smarting on your behind when you turn over to glare at him.  He is just smiling at you, that thin-lipped way he smiles with dry humour. 

“I hate you,” you say again. 

He waves his hand, gesturing the vaguest, blandest sentiment of meh with its wiggle.  

“I’m just doing my job,” he says for the millionth time. 

“Really?” you reply with as much sarcasm as he usually gives.  He hears it, tilting his head like a curious cat, as if he has no idea why you could possibly be upset with him – though the stupid little upturn to his lips tells you that he knows exactly why.  

You hate him.  You really, really do hate him.  You have never hated anyone the way you hate him and you want to shout it from the roof.  But you can’t do that.  You can only say it to his face in private, in whatever way you can.  

You reach without warning, cupping the bulge between his legs and finding a lot more than a denim crinkle.  His gaze darkens, his hand covering yours warningly, though he doesn’t lift it away.

You adopt a saccharine sweet tone when you speak.

“Do you tell my daddy that when you discipline me you get hard?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. 

He moves your hand to his thigh instead, shaking his head. 

“Stop being silly,” he says.  “Go get ready for bed.” 

Your eyes follow him as he stands.  He doesn’t get far when you grab his belt loop and tug him back.   Felix has fast reflexes and is incredibly coordinated, so you find it hard to believe you sincerely bested him, but he stumbles as if you did.   He stands where you want him, where he’s close enough for you to kneel on the bed and press your face right against his bulge. 

He says your name in a warning voice, his already deep voice dropping more.

“I wonder…” you say, nuzzling your nose against the ridge in the denim, where you can feel him hard and getting harder still.  “When my daddy asks you what we do all day,” you say, flicking your eyes up to his, “do you tell him your dick spends more time in my mouth than in your pants?”

His nostrils flare with his next breath. 

You smile, victorious. 

“He still thinks you’re his perfect soldier, doesn’t he?” you ask.  “You can do no wrong.  Little does he know…”

“I do my job,” Felix says.  “And I do a good job.  Okay? That’s all that matters.”   

You start to open your mouth, one hand climbing towards his fly.   You stop with a gasp when he fists a chunk of your hair, tugging your head away from him.  It sends a hot shock rippling through you, flooding you with the recollection of all the times he grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, the times he cupped your head and put himself in your mouth despite knowing better, the number of times he fucked between your pretty lips and forgot to be proper, cursing so much it was practically poetry. 

This time he guides you away and you whimper miserably.  He does not loosen his grip, his fingers threading closer to your scalp so it both hurts less and holds stronger.   He knows better than to just let go.   He knows you perfectly.  You glare at him. 

“Look at me,” he says, because your gaze dropped to his bulge again.  “I said look at me.”   He tugs your hair so you obey, giving him your most annoyed expression.  “You’re listening, yeah?” he says.  He doesn’t wait for an answer.  “You’re going to go to your closet.  Get ready for bed.  Sleep.  You’re going to do that,” his voice turns frighteningly pleasant, “or I’m going to carry you over there and get you ready myself.” 

“Like when we were leaving the club tonight?” you ask just as sweetly.  “And you put me over your shoulder then, oops, something happened when we were in the limo, didn’t it?” 

He lets go of you, exhaling tiredly in a high-pitched breath.

“Where did all your pretty rings go, Felix?” you ask, reaching for his bare hand, usually adorned with rings.  “Did they fall on the floor in the limo when you decided you had to shove your hand up my skirt?”   

Leaving the club, you were both wired.  Felix was honestly justified in breaking that guy’s arm.  You purposefully chose the creepiest, shadiest guy in the club to lead on, knowing Felix would appear two seconds later to rescue you.   He always does.  No one else ever pays you any personal attention and your life is too complicated for romance, so you thrive on the feeling of someone caring enough to always find you – even if it’s literally his job. 

You also like getting mad at him for overreacting, but you like his overreactions.   Him twisting and breaking that creep’s arm honestly turned you on.  It also got Felix all worked up, a bit pissed because you were being irresponsible again but nonetheless heated.  You thought for sure he’d take you home and go crazy and fuck you in the foyer.  Instead he put up the limo divider and one-by-one removed his rings, giving you ample time to refuse before he covered your mouth tightly and slid his other hand up between your thighs. 

Of course, despite bringing you to the edge several times, he never let you finish.  Because he’s the worst. 

And now you’re all worked up and he’s shirtless and being a stupid, pretty, two-faced bitch.

“I—”  you start. 

He rolls his eyes and says, “I know. I know.  You hate me.  Now go.”

You get up, stomping all the way to your walk-in closet.  You can’t even slam the door because it’s a sliding one, but you make the biggest possible demonstration of closing it anyway. 

You get ready for bed.   You briefly consider dressing provocatively or even strolling out there naked, but in the end you decide to just dress in your ugly, comfy, over-sized t-shirt and march angrily back into the room. 

Felix is gone when you return, probably off to double-check the house security one last time before joining you.   You could try climbing out the window and down the terrace, just to be ridiculous, but he’ll catch up sooner than later and be even more annoying about it.   So you get into bed and turn off the lights, laying down with a huff, blankets pulled up to your chin. 

You get a bit dozy before Felix returns, the creaking door snapping you awake.  You look over your shoulder and watch him finally shuck the jeans.  He gets into bed in his boxers, removing his earrings once under the covers.  He puts on the bedside table, then double-checks his gun is in the drawer, then and then only then does he lay down. 

The big bed leaves an ocean of space between you.  You roll over to face him.  His eyes are closed but there’s no way he is already asleep. 

“Felix,” you whisper, even though the big house is empty, “I’m cold.”

“There’s another blanket in the closet,” he says without opening his eyes. 

You slide across the bed, close enough to reach out and put a hand on his chest.  He opens his eyes and stares straight up. 

“I need a cuddle,” you say.  “Or I’ll have nightmares.” 

“You’re not a child anymore,” he says. 

That is maybe one thing you miss about the time before you and Felix started… this.  When things were still innocent between you, he would often let you snuggle up with him.  Now, he keep his distance.  Now, he doesn’t hug or hold you. 

So no one does.    

“We’re still young,” you say, a dumb argument, but you’re tired and out of ideas. 

“I was never as young as you,” he grumbles, more to himself than you.  He seems to realize what he said and shakes his head.  He pats your hand on his chest then rolls over, leaving his back to you. 

You slowly return your hand to yourself, staring at the back of his head with an uncharacteristic prickling of tears. 

Felix doesn’t talk about his life before this.  You just know that it was somehow worse.   Worse than being a watchdog.  Worse than giving up years of his life to protect someone else.   Worse than the times your father wanted to discipline you but learned that if he hit you directly you would just patch yourself up and move on, but if he hit Felix then you would break down and offer anything to make him stop.  

You can see a couple faded scars from those times, faint lines that cross his back, remnants of old belt lashings.  You touch one now, tracing your finger lightly from one end to the other.  You watch a shiver roll down his spine.   He doesn’t turn around. 

Giving up, you roll away, back to your distant side of the bed.  You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep, but it just makes you well up with tears.  You sniffle, rubbing your nose messily on the back of your arm.    

Fabric rustles.  You suck in a breath when Felix slides up behind you, pulling you into the middle of the bed where he holds you snugly in his arms.   You immediately roll to face him, throwing a leg over his hip and burying your face in his neck. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, nothing else. 

“I hate you,” you say, then press a kiss just under his jaw.

“I know.”  He cups the back of your head as your kisses move down his neck.  “I know.” 

You make it to the middle of his chest before he turns you onto your back and gets up over you.  He kisses you properly, thumbs wiping your tears as his mouth makes you forget about the reason you cried at all.  All that matters is kissing him back, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him close as possible.  His sounds of pleasure are so deep and rough and rumbling. 

“Fuck me, please, please,” you say, pushing your fingers into his hair. 

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“You know we can’t do that,” he says. 

“We’ve done it before,” you say, purposefully canting your hips to rub against him, reminding him you are still so hot and wet from his finger-fucking, that only stupid underwear keeps you apart.  It has the desired effect, his brow furrowing as he holds himself still above you.  You peck his lips and string your arms around his neck.  “You know I’m on birth control now for that reason,” you say, a little sweetly, smiling up at him.  “Remember?”

He drops his face in the crook of your neck and makes an even crazier sound, shaking his head. 

“That was very, very irresponsible of us, you know,” he says. 

“Mhm,” you say, sliding your hand down his body to his waistband.  “It really was.  But it felt good, didn’t it?   Dangerous.  Coming inside me like that.”

Felix is right; that incident was very irresponsible.  You had already started your little cat-and-mouse game and ran out of condoms one night.  Because the two of you only have sex with each other, when that happened, you usually just fooled around until he pulled out. 

That time was… a lot.   You were pressed so tightly together and you were being painfully quiet because you weren’t home alone.  It was such a stupid time to mess around, but common sense leaves you when Felix is involved. 

That feeling is mutual.  Felix knew better too.   If he got you pregnant… the fallout with your father would be catastrophic for both of you.   Still, for that moment he was inside you, with your fingers laced together and pressed by your head, with your legs tight around him and his face in your neck, nothing else seemed to exist.  You were two normal people who were allowed to do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted.  It was a breathless, momentary fantasy, holding him tight and telling him to come, shuddering at the noise he made as he did just that.   You didn’t even panic after the fact.   You let the moment linger for as long as it could, still pretending you were normal, still pretending it was fine. 

You started birth control soon after, telling your father it was to regulate your period.   He waved it off, not wanting to hear more.  

Your father has truly never suspected a thing.  He doesn’t see the people around him as people, just objects, so it makes sense that he sees nothing in Felix but a soldier.  He doesn’t know anything about Felix.  Doesn’t know the pattern of his freckles or how his eyes crinkle up when he smiles.  Doesn’t know he has a sweet tooth and will dump a thing of sugar in nearly everything.  Doesn’t know what he finds funny, doesn’t know what makes him sad, doesn’t know anything at all.  

You drag your calf up the back of his leg.

“Felix,” you say. 

He gives you no chance to say more.  One second you are in limbo, the very next he has shoved down both his boxers and your underwear and is already pressing into you.  Only nonsense leaves your lips after that, your eyes closing as he works your body like a familiar and well-loved instrument.   He knows it as well as you do.  As you do his.  It’s easy to work him up, to get him as close as you. 

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, changing position so he’s kneeling.  He puts one of your legs up against his chest, levelling you with an amused smile.  “You’re trying to get me to finish first,” he says. 

“What? Noooo…”  Your giggle turns into a gasp.  You can be as loud as you want but you bite your fist anyway, hiccupping with a choked back sob of pleasure when he finds an angle that makes you see stars. 

“Yes, you are,” he says.  “But you won’t win.” 

“I will,” you say.

“Uh-uh,” he says. “Sure.” 

He makes you come twice before he does.  He even starts pushing you towards a third but you are so oversensitive that it makes tears fall.  He cups your chin and looks at you, cursing. 

“You’re so mean,” you say, smiling through your tears.  “Getting off to me crying.”

“I’m—not—I just—”

“Liar,” you tease.  “You totally are.”

He just giggles.  Then he flips a switch and goes from cute to something else, grabbing your throat and fucking into your oversensitive pussy so good and hard that you cry out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he says.  “Got you.  Got you.  I—”

You kiss him and he comes, sinking into you with dick and tongue and breath, filling you and surrounding you.  

You hold him close, arms tight around him, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours.   When he tries to lift away, you pull him back, making him laugh softly. 

“Stay,” you say, and repay his torture by squeezing him inside you, knowing it will make him twitch and jerk with oversensitivity of his own. 

“You never make it easy for me, do you,” he says with no animosity. 

You shake your head and smile like you’re proud of that.  He laughs then kisses you.   The kiss is good and thorough and sweet, completely loving, affectionate.  It gets your heart racing despite everything you just did.  You rest your hands on his chest and gently push him back. 

“I still hate you,” you say, because you have to say it, because the opposite would be too dangerous to ever say.  You can’t even let that word enter your thoughts, certainly never let it leave your lips.  If you held that word in your mouth for even a second, you would become addicted to it.   So you glare at him with all passion you can muster and say,   “I hate you so much.”   You sniffle when he wipes your tears away.   You turn your face.  “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone.” 

“I know,” he says in a strained voice.  He presses his forehead to your temple and exhales.   “I know, sweetheart.” 

[a-simple-imagine]

monsters on film

synopsis: you ask janis to help with a project

pairing: janis imi'ike x reader

words: 2.1k+

A/N - just trying to spark the urge to write again. i pretty much gave up on this but figured I would share it anyway

WARNING - swearing

a heavy sigh slips into the early, surprisingly chilly, spring air as you wait rather impatiently at the edge of the tree line. time embarrassingly ticking on. you check the time. she was late. maybe she just was not coming. it had been a last-minute invite. or maybe she had just said yes so you would leave her alone. you swallow that little pang of disappointment. you could still get some interesting shots out here even if she didn't show up.

"hey," adrenaline spikes as you turn sharply. she backs up a little just as startled. "sorry,"

Janis 'imi'ike. local Northshore art freak. usually found drawing or more so sewing. you share an art class so you knew each other but weren't particularly close. you liked watching her work though. it's interesting to watch the cogs turn in her head. "it's okay," you offer a smile.

"so why did you wanna meet?" they wonder.

"I need help with an assignment," a photography assignment to be exact. you needed an excuse to talk to her and when your friend suggested asking Janis to help, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to hang out with her. janis made no apparent to hide her feelings on her face.

"Oh," she hummed. "homework? I thought we were gonna do something fun. Why are we all the way out here then? couldn't we do this at school?" Janis wonders, drifting past you and towards the treeline. "do I look like the outdoorsy type to you?" your eyes follow her. a pit forming in your stomach. maybe this was a bad idea. janis 'imi'ike was far from the outdoorsy type. that's not why you invited her.

"not really,"

"so?" she glances back at you.

you shrug. you're not exactly the outdoorsy type either but you like it out here. it's always so peaceful. "it's for my photography class."

"I don't know much about photography like," Janis admits. "I've fucked about making short films but nothing serious."

a light sparks behind your eyes but it quickly dims; you had a million questions that you were too shy to ask. "I wanna take pictures of you," you clarify. a bark of laughter before she realises you're serious.

"oh shit, why?" her brow furrows. you're not really sure what to say to that. you didn't really want to admit you just needed an excuse to hang out with them so you shrug. they shrug too before heading into the woods. you pull your camera from the backpack and start following her. your approach to photography was merely based on instinct. you took pictures when it felt right. you could apply every trick in the book but that would never guarantee anything good. at least if you work on your own drive then you get something out of it. "just know if you're gonna murder me and take pictures of the body, Damian knows I was meeting you" You're not really sure what to say to that. janis just continues walking, kicking up multicoloured leaves as they go. After a moment they continue. "are we just gonna walk around the woods? do I need to like pose or anything?"

you like that she has come around to the idea of being your model enough to ask questions. "kinda but you don't need to pose. it's not that kind of photoshoot I'm just gonna take pictures when it feels right."

"hmm alright," you fall into silence. it feels a little awkward. small talk had never been your strong suit. "you don't talk much huh?" she comments after a moment; it makes your stomach churn. she was correct but did she need to point it out?

"I'm just nervous," you shrug. she slows until you're walking side by side.

"why? do I make you nervous?" you glance at her just in time to notice the smirk spreading on her lips but as she turns to you and your eyes meet, you quickly look away. "you're the one who randomly invited me to wander around the woods, if anyone should be nervous it should be me,"

you swallow hard. "uh, I'm sorry... I was thinking we should head to the well."

a huff of a laugh. "the well?"

"there's like an old well around here, near this creepy old shack."

"a creepy old shack and an abandoned well? you sure this isn't a murder plot?" she teases. it just makes your stomach sink further. you needed to get over this if you were gonna take at least one decent picture never mind a whole assignment worth. "lead the way then," they insist with a flourish of their hands. there was a fifty chance that you were gonna get lost. janis had been the one to lead up until this point so your positioning was off. you're so anxious the universe will probably do anything to make you look worse. and frankly, even on a good day, you've managed to get all turned around. but still, you lead the charge and the other explores with what little freedom is allowed.

the shack was a small building constructed of now rotting wood. it had two small boarded-up windows. you had never been inside. you pretty much avoided the place altogether. nothing good can come from a creepy old shack. "are we almost there?" Janis calls from further down the hill. "we've been walking for ages." it had not been that long probably more like twenty minutes but admittedly you were leading her uphill. when she reaches you, a hand slaps against your shoulder almost making you drop your camera. heat also rushes to your cheeks.

"It's just up ahead," you explain, pointing towards the building through the trees. the well isn't far from the shack.

"oh shit," the girl breezes past you and continues the journey. you follow behind. Take your camera out and hold it up. watching the other through the lens. but as she looks back with a smile, you lower it. offering a small smile. She waits for you beside the old building. "how longs has this been here?" you just shrug. "what's inside?" you shrug again. "you've never been in?" they ask as they walk up the porch steps. they lean towards one of the windows to see inside. "can we?"

"We can't," you fire back. you knew better than to go into some creepy building in the woods. there's no telling who or what lives in there and you would rather not risk it. 

"why?"

"we're not supposed to," the other girl just rolls her eyes.

"nobody is around. who's gonna tell?" the wood creaks as you walk up onto the porch to join her. you didn't know how old this place was once but it looked like it could cave in at any moment. there was no way it was even safe on the porch. 

 "come on." as she reaches for the handle you grab her shoulder.

"don't," you insist. "please," she seems surprised but it quickly fades as she reaches for your hand. the contact makes blush and you pull your hand away. "sorry, I didn't mean to..." You turn away and step back down. "sorry."

"It's fine," she replies. "you good?" you nod a little. the girl comes up behind you. hesitates for a moment like she's contemplating before speaking up again. "so where's the well?"

"uh right, the well,"

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," they respond.

"It's not much further. just up the hill and left." you look at them. offer a smile which they return.

"let's go," you watch them walk away. feeling embarrassed. feeling awkward. you take a picture of Janis as she weaves between a couple of trees and follow along.

a stone well sits crumbling at the top of the low-rise hill. it was in better condition than the shack for sure. you capture the moment Janis spots it and rushes ahead. and again as she leans over the edge to look down. "how deep is it?"

"not sure," you shrug. "Deep enough that you can't see the bottom." you place your bag on the ledge before looking over into the darkness.

"what do you reckon is at the bottom?" there's a mischievous glint in her eyes as she looks at you. you hold up the camera and she is quick to look away. you take a picture anyway.

"Timmy," her brow furrows.

"it was a joke sorry. old reference."

"Oh, she makes jokes now?" Janis teases. "cute."

"do you reckon people have fallen down there? what if there's like bodies and shit?"

"you seem excited about the bodies,"

"I mean no obviously that's bad but do you reckon?"

"maybe," you shrug. "we'd never know,"

"Exactly!" they respond. "could be anything. like secret tunnels and shit." Janis pushes back and starts rushing around the small clearing. your brow furrows but you snap a picture.

"what are you doing?"

"looking for something to throw down," they bend down and pick up a rock before rushing back over. the hold it got a moment and then let it go. you stare at her as she stares down.

"uh," she holds up her hand to shush you and continues staring. you kick the ground awkwardly and look around. guess she was waiting for a sound.

"I brought coins," you explain.

"did you hear that?" Janis looks to you. you shake your head. "what are the coins for?"

"I always toss one in. Pray nothing ever comes out."

"never took you for the superstitious type," Janis hums. "you think the gate to hell is down there or something,"

"I'm picturing a creature of some kind,"

"What kind of creature?" they ask, she turns to face you. pushing herself up to sit on the ledge. your stomach turns but less because she's focused on you and more on the fear that she could fall in. You'd have no way to help.

"I dunno. just like this giant shadow creature. pitch black from head to toe, can't distinguish any part of its body except for when it bares its teeth. and it has like these sharp yellow eyes."

"a shadow creature," Janis repeats. "quite the imagination."

"you never know," you insist.

"Can I have a coin?"

"Sure, grab my bag from beside you," the girl turns recklessly looking for the bag and knocks it backwards. the ledge is big enough that it doesn't fall in but the fact it was unzipped and Janis grabbed the bottom meant a lot of the contents slipped out and into the darknesses "holy shit." you rush to the edge but it's too late. the girl picks up your bag more carefully this time. holding it out. you practically snatch it from her, looking inside. all your film. gone. fuck. you had your last assignment in there and it was tomorrow. you drop the bag and go back to staring down the well.

"fuck,"

"was that important?"

"only all my photos and backup film."

"do you have them saved to like the cloud or something?"

"I mostly shoot on physical film- fuck."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to, I-"

"It's okay,"

"no, it's not." Janis insists.

"it was an accident. I didn't realise I left it open."

"Sorry,"

"It's fine," you sigh softly backing away. "do you still want a coin?" you pick your bag up. at least your camera wasn't in there.

"do you wanna leave?" Janis suggests. you shake your head.

"I still need some pictures." you root through the backpack, unzipping the back pocket to collect a coin. "here."

she takes it slowly. it's clear the atmosphere has changed once again. and just when you started feeling more comfortable.

it's Friday. you have art today. you haven't spoken to Janis since that evening. it's only been two days though. you know she feels bad but you can't deal with it. you're too stressed about the pictures you lost. you walk in and take your usual spot around the table.

"hey," Janis takes the spot beside you. normally James sat there. "can we talk?"

"We don't need to," you insist. "it's fine."

"I feel like you're mad at me," Janis comments. "and I'd rather talk it out than have you avoid me."

"I'm not mad at you," you reply. "I'm just... stressed."

"what are you gonna do?"

"I explained the situation but I only got a three-day extension. so I have to do the entire thing again over the weekend."

"I'm sorry,"

"please stop apologising,"

"but it was my fault,"

"it was an accident," you express. "it's just as much my fault so let's just... move on."

"Are you free over the weekend?"

"no, I have homework to do. where are you not listening?"

"other than that?"

"I'm not gonna have time for anything else,"

"let me help you- it's the least I can do."

"you don't have to do that,"

"I want to, please?"

you shrug. "fine. whatever. you can help." 

// NEXT

[todayisafridaynight]

I didn't really get a chance to say it yesterday (or the day before lol) but I've been having tons of fun with the new stream schedule and with revisiting Judgment with you and everyone! Excited for today's stream too of course; Admittedly I Did Giggle And Kick My Feet A Little about you considering drawing Tsuruno BUT I'll of course be just as happy to see Masato/Aoki <3 or anyone else <3 I actually don't remember ever seeing you draw Aoki's scars in spite of The Controversy...

ALSO PLEEEEEEASE I Am SORRY For Shishiposting (<- It Is Fine And Will Happen Again) 😭😭😭 a bitch predictable... I do genuinelyyyyyy want to comment on every other post you make though I just wish I still had that kinda time right now </3 I will say it was funny as hell seeing you post about Daigo's correct estimation of the threat Shishido's charisma poses (SUCH a Father and Son Intelligence vs. Wisdom moment between Daigo and Kiryu btw) while I was in the middle of having an argument with someone saying Shishido wasn't charismatic lmao

judgment streams have been real fun even if i do run around my room five minutes before every one LOL it's been swell so far playin through the game the first time with everybody :]

i truly aint got any idea what to draw specifically for stream, there's been a whole lotta things ive been wantin to draw so it's gonna be hard boilin it down to one. i might just do a random sketch pile, tho it will def be annoyin havin to run and grab ref images every so often LOL BUT it'll be fun regardless :) i hope :))

i don't really get a lot of chances to draw aoki's scars. i can count of all the times ive done so on my hand and those drawings were preeeettty old, so i try Not to think of them lol. even comics where i wanted to Poke at his post recovery i've already done, and even in THAT i still had him bandaged. world wasn't meant to see him post op i suppose lol (´▽｀)

AND AS YOU SAY IT'S FINE LMAO im always happy to read whatever you got to say (❁´◡`❁) i make a lot of posts broski, it is very understandable that theres no time to comment on a lot of them. because i have little else to do outside of my Silly Posting LOOOL so i appreciate the time you can find to write in :)

[kiwibirbs-library]

Future Kids PART 1

a/n: OK I KNOW I KNOW this is a highly used fix idea but like I cant get it out of my head and need to write something honestly I might even draw something for it like bruh these are long btw

Pairings: Bakugou x reader, Todoroki x reader

Warning: none, fluff

Summary: they meet their futures kids and proceed to malfunction

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Bakugou Katsuki

He finally had gotten some piece and quiet

FINALLY

He was checking the fridge for things they needed to get on a grocery run while everyone else was to busy to annoy him

Then someone kicked him

He whipped around about ready to yell when he stopped

Not cause it was a kid but because he wasn’t expecting a kid

“The hell?”

“Watch the Language you old man,” the boy said

He had this pose and tone that made Bakugou even madder

“Watch it kid!” He growled

“Lame old man!!” The kid laughed before kicking his shin again

“OI STOP THAT WHAT THE HELL WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” He asked

He had lifted the kid up but was holding him at arms length like he smelled or something

“DONT LET MOM HEAR YOU USE THAT WORD WITH ME SHELL YELL AT US AGAIN,” the kid kicked around

He seemed legit panics by the thought

“I don’t know who your mom is or how you got here but get out you brat,” Bakugou dead panned and out the kid down

“Honestly dad you know who mom is. She’s gunna hear you and give you the face again,” the kid scoffed

Bakugou whipped his head back the kid

Why the fuck was a ten year old calling him dad

I mean he did look like him

But he didn’t have the same eyes

They were (e/c)

Then there was a small squeal from down the hall

The kids eyes brightened and he ran over to the entrance

“Mom! Kastu! I was looking for you,” he smiled

What the hell that’s not you he talked to me?? Bakugou thought

Now he was all sunshine and rainbows

Nah

When you came into view though with a laughing little girl that looked barely 5 though he stopped in his tracks

“You must be Natsu,” you smiled at the boy

“Well duh I’m your son,” there was the slight snark

“Can Someone explain what’s happening?” Bakugou semi yelled

He was so confused right now

Why were there two brats now?

Why did they look like you snd him with your features mixed?

Why was it pleasing for him to see it?

He knew he thought you were hot but seeing you all domestic like this made him feel wierd

You looked up at the blonde and smiled

You placed the (h/c) girl down and she ran over to her brother

“Bakugou there you are!” You came over to him and watched the kids start talking on the floor

“So fun story. They’re from the future I think,”

“You think? That’s all you got? Really?” He snapped

You raised your brow at him

“Oooo mamas got the look!” The small girl giggled

“Dads in troublleeee” the both snickered

Bakugou felt his cheeks warm

He didn’t miss how yours did too

“Yes it is all I got,” you turned back to him after those words of wisdom from the two kids on the floor

Bakugou gulped

You opened your mouth to say something but he cut you off

“So does that mean you’ll go out with me” he asked

Your eyes widened

“DONT FUCKING LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT?!” He yelled

“LANGUAGE,” you and both children said at the same time

Anyways you said yes

Todoroki Shoto

Bby was so confused

The boy had shotos different colored eyes and (h/c) hair

He had just randomly run into him

He had taken a brake and was heading back from reading in the park when he saw him

The kid looked like 6

His eyes widened when he saw him

Shoto had stopped and kneeled in front of the boy cause like

He was a small child

No adult in sight

What else was he gunna do

The kid got tears in his eyes and shoto kinda freaked out

Like please no crying

Then the kid jumped him and started BAWLING

His words were muffled but he could make it out good enough

“D-daddy im-im so sorry. I don’t know wha-what’s happened. I-I” he started crying harder

Shoto immediately started patting the kids back

He started shushing him trying to calm him down

Then you came strolling down through the park looking for Shoto himself

Your eyes widened at the little boy that was starting to calm down a little bit in his hold

You rushed over

“Is everything ok?” You asked coming down to them

The kid turned around to you and gave you a weary smile

“MOMMY!!” And he flipped people

He was hugging you so tight goodness

Like you didn’t know a kid could grip so tight

Shoto stares at the kid and you

Like the kids hair was near identical to yours and he looked like you minus a couple of things

Then you made eye contact with him

“Everything ok with you what’s going on?” You asked

“Honestly I don’t know I just found him,” he said standing up and looking around again for another adult

“Ok sweetie what’s your name,” you asked the kid when his cry’s calmed down

He have you a confused look as if you should already know

He still answered anyway

“R-ren,”

You smiled at him again before picking him up and pulled shotos arm

“Let’s go find Aizawa k?” He nodded along with you and you both headed over to the teacher lounge

You were going threw the halls when you ran into Present Mic

“HEYO KIDDOS!! Who’s the small one my peeps??” He slid in

The kids eyes widened at the man before leaning further into you more

You smiled at him

You kinda found it funny

Todoroki had subtlety moved behind you slightly at the volume

It almost made you laugh

But you held it in with mic right there

“Hey Mic. Do you know where Aizawa is?” You you asked

The kid made grabby hands to the boy behind you and you both reacted, trading ren before you went back to mic

“Aww ya my girl. He’s in ya class the last I was with him yo,” he smiled before moving to pass you three

“See Ya Little Man,” you smiled and Shot finger guns at him

Ren blinked before giving him a small wave over shotos shoulder

You both went to the classroom and met with Aizawa when he kid finally was good enough to talk a lot

You all listened as the kid told his story on how he got here

At some point in his little mini rant he talked about and agency named after Todoroki

“My dad doesn’t have an agency called Todoroki?” Shoto dead panned

“No daddy does,” the kid returned

“Are you natsu’s secret love child? Wait no he doesn’t have an agency either” Todoroki thought out loud

You Aizawa and Ren all looked at the boy with matching looks of really?

Like Aizawa had gotten an idea of who he is

Even you had caught on

The kid looked between you and shoto before turning to his dad

“Really dad? You opened the agency. You even put in a little kids area so I could make friends with the other kids. Mama said that it might be a good idea for the parents too,”

You looked Ren

How old was he again? 6?

Dang

Ok pop off

Shoto ok the other hand just put on his thinking face and nodded

“Understandable. Good idea y/n” you looked at him again with the biggest blush. He gave you a small smile

You just looked away with a little smile

Aizawa sighed and told you too to watch him for the day, the quirk would probably wear off by the end of the day

And it didn’t

You three were all in the kitchen

You were sitting on the counter messing with Ren on your lap

Shoto watched the two of you contently as he got some water

The kid started fading and didn’t even notice

You saw it and tapped shotos back with your foot at it

He saw what you were getting at and stayed quiet

The kid finally noticed when his hand went transparent and freaked out

“Wha- what’s going on?!” He panicked

You smiled and just ruffled his hair and smiled

“It’s alright sweets. You’ll see us in a minute,”

when he was gone you and shoto stared at each other for a minute

“Soooo does this mean you can take me on a date” you smiled at him

He looked back at you surprised

“What did you expect to have a kid drop on calling us mom and dad and not have me ask??”

“Well no but I was hoping I could ask first,”

He was mumbling and you just laughed

[thesims2comics]

any chance of rating the posters? cue eyes emoji

*cracks knuckles* let's GO!

(I've included some posters from the EPs and APs, otherwise this would be a very short list of like 4 posters)

LONG POST AHEAD!!!

Engineered Angst Full poster: 5/10. what's going on here?? Is the person in front going to an eye doctor with funky walls? And why does she kinds look like a Urbz DS render? So many question, no answers

Engineered Angst Red: 6/10. Better than the previous one imo, I like the sims' facial expression a lot! And this is a me problem, but it kind of reminds me of the promo clips of the virtual boy?? Y'know that nintendo console that only used red and black as its colors? Still pretty cool though!

Searing Indifference: 7/10 Angsty teen poster number 3. Honestly? Iconic, this is one of those posters that I still remember from playing the game when I was younger. I've always thought it was a band poster though. Nonetheless, it's a very cheesy poster but I just can't rate this any lower

"Civic Idol" by Adora Wall Arts: 7/10 AMAZING POSTER!! I'd say it's the best "emo/edgy" poster in the game. I'd only like to know what the hell that humanoid thing is. Also, the red thing looks wonky and apparently the white stripes are meant to say "Civic Idol". But the skyline and the moon look so great and the red stripe makes it look like dangerous and egdy. Kudos for the amazing composition of this one

Pets poster: 5/10. Cursed. For some reason, this poster looks much more jankier and pixelated than the others, even the basegame ones. Kinda simple, but it sorta does the job (Fun fact: this is one of the few posters that have variants! Which redeems it)

Revolutionary Rebellion poster: 8/10. Really cool! I love the hard red with the black and white and is much less crispier than some other posters. In the build&buy description it says that we should check out the Sim with the moustache but honestly, I have no idea what that's about. At least it looks pretty nice! Kent, Nervous and Moustache Mercutio is my fave rockband

"It's Reggae, Mon" Poster: 9/10. Really pretty!! I love the posing of this guy and with the sun flare and background it's one of the most beautiful posters available! Also, seeing the previous music posters' description, I thought the devs would've made fun of the genre since they also did that with the teenage angst posters. But I think it's actually really nice and cool what they wrote about reggae music so I've included it for you to read

"Fists of Bunny" poster: 8/10. I think this might be an anime reference or something? Or is this what the Social Bunny does when he's not with a sim? Just anime kicking in the Void? I don't get the reference, but it does look cool! Would I hang this up in my actual room? Probably yeah! And I like that it's the Social Bunny, we don't see the guy that often in the Build&Buy

Inverted Vertigo, Cover art: 5/10. What the hell is going on here??? Hands??? light strokes? Some people? A face??? This reminds when I discovered blending layers in a drawing program for the first time honestly.

All the alien posters: 8/10 Tumblr limits me to only upload 10 images, so these guys are getting grouped. Hell yeah! Alien posters! These look cool as hell, HD quality next to the pets poster. I don't know how to feel about the way too human alien head on the left though, it kinda freaks me out, because for the sims 2 this is far too realistic. And apparently the guy on the surfboard is PT#9 cousin, RT#66 surfing through the galaxy, good for him! These posters are rad as hell in my opinion, especially after some rather small and pixelated ones.

That's gonna be it for the poster review! There's an image limit of 10 and because I have the Super Collection I don't have all the posters, so there isn't gonna be a part 2 from me. If anyone else feels like completing this list with all the posters form the Ultimate Collection or make their own review with the posters, feel free to do so!

These were just my opinions on the posters, if you have others thoughts on the posters that's fine, your opinion is valid!

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. LO fans are like I can justify slavery, I love misogyny, Classism is cool, capitalism is tight, cheating and child abuse is a-ok, mass murder to "insignificant" people is okey-dokey, but I draw the LINE at incest! Like wait, back up a minute -

2. I haven't read LO past Ep 3 for obvious reasons but checked out the Ep 190 everyone was talking about and holy SHIT it's far worse than I could ever dream. The silly sweatdrop on Demeter when Eris brings up what she did looks like a COMEDIC scene. Eris gets stabbed at a lazy horizontal camera angle and then spends the entire time looking mildly weirded out. The stiff dialogue, stick figure poses, choppy transitions. Zeus's hilariously lopsided face when he speaks to Persephone. This is popular??

3. A really short and refreshing HxP WEBTOON I found some time ago that I'd like to recommend is called Awkward Hades. Not only is it pretty damn funny, but Persephone is snarky and cool-headed.

4. be nice to Disney's Hercules. at least it was fun and never said it was accurate, LO on the other hand is a pretentious slog that thinks it's better than all of the ancient poets combained and a feminist magnum opus :/

5. What I find so insulting about LO and "retellings" like it (and I love a happy HXP take! don't get me wrong!) is that they seem to think a woman's "happiness and empowerment" is via the ruin of a mother and daughter relationship and instead through marrying a man, which isn't exactly screaming "feminist' now is it. Why are so many of these "feminist" writers more concerned about the "redemption" of a literal king and do so via the ruin of the female relationship for his benefit?

6. What I find a bit funny is like ... what is Demeter supposed to do in these stories exactly? Because if she gives a damn about her daughter, she's considered "overbearing and abusive" (I'm begging HxP stans to never have kids) but let's say Demeter just doesn't care and never even checks up on her while Persephone is kidnapped, assaulted, etc, she'd then be deemed neglectful and abusive again! Like she can't win with these people no matter what she does.

7. Something that didn’t sit right with me was the reveal of Apollo being Zeus’ son. Beside being extremely obvious, I just didn’t understand why he did it at that moment. Like he doesn’t have persephone meaning he’s not powerful enough to defeat zeus. Now Zeus can connect the dots and see that Apollo wants to over throw him which he can take attention earlier ( which u can say he did by banishing persephone). Which makes me even wonder why he would do that? Am I like missing smth? It just feels kinda dumb which is honestly a problem I had with Apollo as an antagonist. To me The only thing making him a threat is because of what he did to persephone. I think RS wants for us to believe that hes some sort of master manipulator but he really isnt making him such a bad antagonist in my opinion and since I don’t personally care about the threat that PxH are facing Im honestly quite bored.

8. We deserve short kings, chubby kings, fat kings, lanky kings, androgynous kings, trans kings, bi kings, gay kings, kings of all shapes and sizes and creeds, and yet rachel only gives us the same bulky, cishet jokers :/

9. tbh big age gaps in fiction only really work when one is immortal/an immortal fantasy creature like a god and the other is mortal, but then the human is usually like 25+ and had a life well before them, so yeah the age gap is there but the maturity and experience gap really isnt, but in LO rachel purposely made sure they're not aligned in any way (age, power, experience, maturity, etc) that its like why would anyone not find it off putting?? he's always going to have power her no matter what??

10. the "wake up your sister" line can’t be eris though because she was kicked out of the house for trying to murder hera, so why would she still be living with them? it was probably going to be  if rachel even remembered to name them) eileithyia since he's in that group of canon zeus/hera kids along with hebe and ares (which eris usually isnt). if i had to guess if shes introduced itll be solely to help get persephone pregnant since she's a childbirth goddess and hades needs babies :/

[silvermistanimelover]

Small Encanto Details (pt 6)

Okay, this time we’re going with the Mirabel-meets-Bruno part of the movie.

Kicking it off with this poor little rat that tripped on his way up the stairs. It’s okay little fella! Bruno has an arepa for you back at the hideout. :)

Okay, I never noticed that after Camilo gets struck by his mother’s lightning during the chase scene, he also gets a pot of boiling hot tea spilled on the small of his back. No wonder he was jumping around. (Also, the fact that after this he briefly transforms into Agustín, who is known as the klutz of the family is something I find hilarious).

When Mirabel catches Bruno, he looks so dang relieved. Like “Oh, wow, you really saved me! You’re so nice!”

And then she lets go, and he looks so terrified. Poor Bruno! Guy just can’t catch a break.

I find the fact that he’s been growing plants back here kinda sweet. They resemble the plants kept outside the walls in the main house, so I wonder if he didn’t grow them for nostalgia. Also, how do these things get sunlight?

Can we also take a moment to talk about how Bruno has en entire homemade rat playground? This guy is living in an armchair in a literal hole in the wall, but makes sure his little buddies have a place to run around and have fun.

Also, all the pictures up on his wall look like drawings of rats in various poses.

Bruno’s coffee cup in the bg matches the bowls you see in the first song of the movie.

They’re from the same set. So Bruno might’ve taken ‘his’ cup with him. A somewhat sad and also kinda sweet detail.

Of course, we all know this scene—that heartbreaking moment when we realize that Bruno left, but still longed to be part of the family. Here’s the sad thing...

At the beginning of the movie, you can see everyone’s plates all lined up nice and neat. And while it’s too blurry to read the names, there’s only five plates up top—Abuela, Julieta, Pepa, Agustín, and Félix. There’s still space for Bruno’s plate, even though it’s been long since put away—out of sight.

Just noticed for the first time that, when Mirabel asks him why she was in his vision, Bruno isn’t just staring off into space. He’s fiddling with a loose piece of thread on the arm of the couch.

Bruno’s hidden house of cards. Damn, he’s better at it than me. How have his rats not knocked that over yet??

Mirabel looks way too thrilled to be kicking in that door.

[harmoni-me]

hi! wanted to tell you that i absolutely love your writing skills, it’s so different from the others that i've read and it makes me feel so warm inside. keep up the good work! i'm really looking forward to seeing more

if you don’t mind, i'd like to request for a poly nagito x sweetheart reader x kokichi where they’re still in the crushing/pining stage and being confused about their sexuality. thank you, have a good day/night!💙

Phew! I finally did it! My fingers kinda hurt from typing all this haha! But I loved the request a lot! I played around with the concept you gave me as well, so it’s a story that branches out into multiple styles of writing. I do have to warn you though, goodness is this one long! But I hope you enjoy it all in the same! <3

I’m so sleepy lol 

quick trigger warning beware! : There is a scene in this where a character goes through mental hysteria that contains some panic attack like symptoms. If you are sensitive to that writing, please, skip the the fluffy scene that if used for comfort right after :) (Or just don’t read it at all, don’t worry! Harmoni understands!)

Nagito Komaeda x Sweetheart Reader x Kokichi Ouma! Pt. 1

Also can we just talk about this gif? It makes me so happy...This artist is so good too like WHOA! Check them out! 

“No…“

“1, 2, 3, 4-“

“NO-“

“5, 6, 7, 8!” Nagito finished, moving the silver, dog-shaped play piece across the board in rhythmic taps.

“NOOOO! BOARDWALK, NAGITO?! FUCKING BOARDWALK?!” Kokichi shrieked in a fit of rage, slamming his Panta drink onto the table, while standing up and causing an absolute fit.

Nagito was chuckling at the enraged boy, who was now standing on the kitchen counters, stomping in pure fury. Kokichi was a huge brat. A clingy, competitive, always-begging-for-something, whole-hearted brat. Though, Nagito would have to admit that he could never stay mad at Kokichi, in fact, he would have to say that he barely gets mad at him. Ever. He reminded the white-haired boy of a playful puppy, bounding and bucking happily when getting what it wants. It made Nagito’s heart melt, evaporate, then simply melt again, even when he was a cursing mess stomping on the granite countertops, getting scratches all over it.

“Woah! Nagi, that’s amazing! You got Boardwalk really early in the game, that’s so cool!” You smiled, while also laughing at Kokichi’s ferocious cursing as ambiance. Your smile drove Nagito’s attention away from the angered boy, and his heart went through overdrive once he saw your sweet smile, radiating so much contagious joy. It’s almost as if he was on a roller coaster that contained a different track each and every time he rode it. One minute, his heart would be doing loops, and the next, it excitedly go up again.

. . .

Now, this is where the problem begins. Well, the one of three problems that plague the three individuals all playing a simple game of Monopoly on a Sunday night. This is Nagito’s problem: Whenever he has an effect on Kokichi, making him oh-so-lovable in his eyes, his heart swells and fills his chest to the brim. Oh, was this feeling that was so incredibly foreign to him feel so wonderful when it dawned upon him for the first time.

Nagito could always draw the memory back within his vision in surreal detail. Kokichi and Nagito were loitering in the hallways of Hope’s peak, with the shorter purple-haired boy dragging the pale, frizzy haired boy by the hand to apparently “Conjure up the biggest most awesome-est prank Hope’s Peak has every witnesses since built into existence”. Honestly, how could Nagito say no to something that holds so much potential hope and despair, all contained in one big gift-wrapped surprise of a prank on the whole school?

After planning for a few hours, Kokichi seemed to have a fuse broken in his brain due to thinking about a truly fool-proof plan. The somewhat drowsy prankster reached into his schoolbag and pulled out two twin bottles of grape Panta, sliding one over to an unsuspecting Nagito. The purple plastic bottle bonked into Nagito’s forearm, knocking the bottle down from the force.

“Nehehe, I guess you really are the Ultimate Lucky student, huh? It just so happens I packed an extra today, Shamrock! Make it up to me sometime soon, okaaaaay?” Kokichi giggled, teasing the lanky, somewhat socially-awkward Nagito who was sitting across from him on a desk within a totally abandoned classroom. Nagito thanked the other, though, Kokichi really couldn’t respond due to being in the middle of chugging his favorite carbonated drink.

Nagito turn to his own bottle. He wasn’t the biggest fan of old-fashioned artificial grape flavored things, but it wasn’t the worst. Plus, it would be quite rude to refuse a drink from a friend, right? So the white haired boy simply picked up the bottle, and twisted the cap off, as per usual etiquette of opening a soda bottle.

Splash

It didn’t take too long until Nagito knew what was going on. The drink had exploded everywhere. The bottle of soda was basically empty by the end of the grape-geyser showcase, and poor Nagito was left drenched in purple, sticky, sugary liquid. The drink already was starting to dry into a thin, sweet crust on his skin, making the boy on a whole other level of uncomfortable. Though, it was kind of expected that Kokichi would be absolutely laughing his butt off in the moment, sounding like some sort of hysteric hyena mixed with a duckling quacking at some breadcrumbs. It was a laughable sight, no doubt, Nagito literally looked like the embodiment of a sad, wet dog.

But then Kokichi settled down after a bit, controlling his breathing from the pathetic sight. After doing so, he got up out of his seat, and knelt down to scrummage through his bag, revealing a regular branded water bottle. He then made his way over to Nagito, and without hesitation, sat himself on his soda-soaked lap.

“Aww, really going for that kicked puppy look, are you now? Well, since I’ve had all my laughing fun from this, I guess it’s only natural that I help you out, hm? Or would you rather just stay just like this? Oh, now, I wouldn’t mind it if we did…though it seems your eyes beg to differ…well in that case, let’s clean you up, shall we?” Kokichi hummed, teasing the ever living daylights out of the wet and miserable boy.

Kokichi then did something that made Nagito’s heart pound harder than it ever had before. The teasing boy reached behind his neck, untying his beloved checkered bandana. He then carefully opened the water bottle, and poured the contents onto the fabric. Once ensuring it was thoroughly soaked, Kokichi started to wash off as much of the stickiness he could. to Ruffling Nagito’s hair, from gently washing his pale cheeks, which were now sprinkled with specks of rose, and finally gliding the cloth along Nagito’s clothes and hands.

A few things in Nagito’s mind had clicked into place after Kokichi had handled him with the care equal to that of a lover. Well, ironically, Nagito had caught feelings for his tiny little prankster brat of a friend. Was it a huge surprise? Not really, based on the track that Nagito was on.

Another piece of the puzzle had snapped: Kokichi was a a guy. That was something really to think about. Never had Nagito found men attractive, but…

Finally, the last, and most worrying puzzle piece out of them all: Kokichi wasn’t the only one he has fell for. His heart has become torn in that moment, with every day becoming more of a wrestling match to the death rather than a silly tug-of-war between feelings. The other side of his heart was unsure, and fell for another person that had lifted him up through his lowest lows, supporting him like a much needed pair of crutches when having a sprained ankle.

And that person, was you.

. . .

“Ok ok ok ok ok! Listen here you little damn shamrock you!” Kokichi huffed, now sitting back on the ground, leg crossed, “You and I both know that I have Park Place, right? Right! Now, my dear little clover, I want to make a deal with you, if you will?” Kokichi smirked with evil intent clear within his irises.

“Ooo! Deals! Nagi, I think you should listen to Kichi, making profitable partnerships is pretty much his specialty.” You giggled, basically becoming Kokichi’s personal little advocate. He let out a quick “Yeah, what she said!”, causing Nagito to laugh and nod, gesturing for an explanation of the deal.

“Well, personally, my little clover, I feel like we should team up, you know? We could completely dominate over sweet our little gumdrop over there, making them drop to their knees in submission to us. You know, I have a feeling you and I both would enjoy it...” Kokichi shuffled a little closer to the platinum blonde, voice dropping, “We could rule them over together, as equals, or even make them surrender if they ever have the chance-“

“Sure! Though, you should probably get out of jail first.” Nagito chuckled, making the other boy grumble.

“OH YOU-“

“Heeeeey! I wanna join in too! It sounds like you guys are having fun and stuff, while I’m all alone…” You puffed out your cheeks, sadness dripping in your voice.

Both of the boys shot up to look at your somewhat downcast features, and oh, how it wreaked their hearts in one fell swoop.

Kokichi automatically shot up from his position, puffing out his chest in preparation for a new speech.

“O-ok! New deal! We ALL join evil forces TOGETHER, and absolutely destroy the game with all of our property, while reaping in the greedy rewards of the capitalist regime!” Kokichi loudly proclaimed, chuckling at the end of his new deal.

You gasped, “Deal! Deal! Taking over a money-based board game with my two favorite people ever will always be a yes for me!” You laughed, smiling at the thought of the three of you taking over Hollywood streets with a pose of limos, while using bags stuffed with pure cash as weapons made it ten times funnier.

Kokichi smiled, resting his hands behind his head, “Yeah! Let’s end it here and just say that we kicked so much millionaire ass that we now have control over the whole economy!”

. . .

This is the second problem, Kokichi is so undeniably confused. About what? About himself. He was sure as all hell about how he felt about you, he always went soft and squishy for you, and not to mention he would be extra clingy when it had to do with you. Headpats? Common, and always appreciated. Cuddles? Been there, done that with you.

But, then there was Nagito. Kokichi would never say this out loud, but he thought that Nagito was so…pretty. And god, Kokichi was a huge sucker for pretty people. Though, once he realized that his feelings didn’t go to just one person, that’s when he started to panic.

He had to take in multiple things at once, trying to accept it all at once, but it was just so incredibly difficult. He has spent the whole entirety of his life to perfect the art of lying, and one thing that he learned constantly manipulated his own mind and thought process, tearing it into metaphorical shreds.

In order to pull out a lie that everyone can believe, you have to lie to yourself, and proclaim your own illusion of your truth.

Did Kokichi want to believe he was immensely attracted to Nagito, who just happened to be a guy? No, he really didn’t. It wasn’t normal.

Did Kokichi want to believe that he had fallen so fucking in love with two of his closest friends? Hell no. In society, you had to pick and choose, it’s one or the god damn other.

Right?

One night, all of these feeling and thoughts rushed into the boy’s conscious all at once, building immense pressure within his head and chest. Was this a nightmare, or-

Suddenly, his throat started to close up on him, making him gasp out in agony, wheezing on the covers of his bed, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes.

Instinct kicked in within the speed of light. Kokichi shakily reached over to his phone, grasping onto it, and quickly set up a group call. Almost immediately, the two people he was panicking over had picked up.

“Hello? Kokichi? Is there anything you need?” A raspy voice rang out. It seems as if Nagito was awoken by the sudden calling.

“Yeah, Kichi? Is there anything wrong?” You softly spoke through the phone. It calmed Kokichi a little just hearing the two of you guy so worried over him.

“I-I know It’s out of the blue-“ Kokichi gasped for air “B-but can you guys please come over?”

And oh boy, did you and Nagito get there in record time.

After just a mere ten minutes, you and Nagito were outside of Kokichi’s bedroom door, and the both of you could hear the desperate hiccups and gasps of your poor friend.

The both of you had no doubts, nor questions. You just wanted the struggling boy to feel safe.

“We’re coming in.” You said, affirming your actions with light knocking on the bedroom door.

When the both of you came face to face with a Kokichi with puffy red eyes, clutching his heaving chest, and thick tears rolling down his face, it felt like the both of you just got shot in the heart, the weight of it sinking down into the stomach, emitting a feeling that could only be described as pure pity. But the two of you automatically got to work.

Sooner rather than later, You and Nagito were cuddling Kokichi from either side, supporting him, as well as being his shield for protecting his small, delicate frame from his own cruel thoughts. You had started to run your fingers through Kokichi’s hair, causing his breaths to become fuller, and not nearly as hitched. Nagito also wanted to contribute in his own way, so he decided to mindlessly draw messy shapes and squiggles into Kokichi’s side, hoping that what he was doing would be of any help.

After only a mere five minutes, Kokichi had passed out from exhaustion, but the two of you kept on doing what you were doing, wanting for the boy in-between you two to have sweet dreams about all of what he desires all night long.

Kokichi has never let go of that memory, and never will for the rest of his life, and it’s a constant reminder on how much he had lied to himself. He actually wanted the truth out of something for once in his life, and that was how long it would be in order for the loves of his life to live without restraint of societal chains. Whenever it was, he would always be ready. Always, with arms as open as the horizon.

. . .

“Why in the world are we watching Big Hero 6 again? Didn’t we watch this, like, a month ago?” Kokichi trudged from the microwave, to the plush couch, bowl of buttered popcorn in hand.

“(Y/N) wanted to watch it, is there a problem?” Nagito tilted his head, holding the remote, about to press play. You were bouncing in anticipation, because this movie was just never a disappointment.

“Hm, well, I GUESS there’s nothing wrong with it….just don’t be surprised when you hear me snoring.” Kokichi huddled up beside you, placing the bowl of popcorn on you lap.

“I deem you the popcorn peacemaker! Your job is to make sure no one’s being a pig.” Kokichi snickered, while you giggled at your new role in life.

“Nagi? You like popcorn, right? Here!” You placed the bowl on his lap, causing him to smile.

“Hey, HEY! NO! That means I have to reach my WHOLE ARM over to to Lucky boy, JUST SO I CAN GET SOME POPCO-“

“Sh sh sh! The movie is starting!” You giggled, shushing the purple haired boy, while you heard a little chuckle from the white haired boy who was next to you.

. . .

The last problem was you. Your heart bubbled up in joy whenever you where around these boys, making your face erupt like a volcano whenever something slightly suggestive is aimed at you when it has to do with either one of them. You liked both of them, a lot, and you gave everything in order for the three of you to flourish in bountiful friendship. Yeah, that’s the problem, it was friendship.

Oh, how desperately you wished that everything could be easy! If life were like an infinite rolling of crashing waves, things would be flawless, predictable even. Unfortunately, life really likes to give you the short end of the stick, and this was honestly one of the shortest sticks someone like you would have never asked for. The loving of two men, both equally, and having an intense desire to treat them as lovers. What would they do as lovers? Where would they go as lovers? The questions and possibilities are endless…

The only time where you felt as if the friendship could’ve resembled anything somewhat romantic, was a summer evening trip to the beach.

The water was the perfect temperature, the ocean was as clear as glass, and the sand didn’t burn the soles of your feet. The boy’s were in their swimming trunks, having their own little fun. Nagito was afraid of getting to deep into the ocean, so you always stayed in the shallow end, trying to capture as many tiny fishes as you could with your bare hands.

Kokichi insisted that him and Nagito bury you in sand, leaving your head poking out of a sandy little cocoon. When the sun started to set, you got some supplies that you brought, and lit the fire that the group planned to create. Everyone gathered around it, cooking hot dogs on sticks, and crafting tasty s’mores that we fed each other.

One could say that that night might be the most casual and platonic friend trip ever, but something was off.

Everyone looked at each other differently that night. When looking into their eyes, it was oddly intimate. It was like all of the stars in the night sky reflected off their eyes conveyed so much...love.

That night, you felt so adored, so cherished and cultivated to the brim of your existence. You felt something, and maybe the other boy’s did too, but that feeling has changed your life.

Thanks to these stupid boys; These stupid boys that you’ve given so much to, you don’t think you could ever love any other.

One you’ve helped get out of a terrible degradation cycle, another you’ve helped to not lie to himself, and not as much to others.

And thanks to your down to earth humility, your heart has been stolen, and it was going to stay taken by those lovely, unique boys who have helped you out of so many ditches, and so many of life’s cracks and dents. God, how could you not fall?

Their lives were precious to you, but you had no idea how they would feel about an actual relationship, so you’ve always been terrified. Petrified and paralyzed to the bone to ever think of what may happen if you were the cause of the fracture of the friendship. You didn’t want to ruin something that has taken so long to build, yet can be torn all down due to a selfish desire.

But, maybe, just maybe, if they went to you first, confessed everything that was bottled up inside, dittoed on how you felt…

Then you might just be the luckiest person to live on this earth, there’s no doubt about that.

[mrs-hollandstan]

could a write a mob tom with a plus size reader who’s a virgin and is self conscious of her body. and with a ddlg kink too? thank you xxx

I hope I did the ddlg kink justice. I am uninformed lol. NSFW below

[[MORE]]

You knew Tom thought you were stunning. He'd approached, unabashedly in one of his clubs and you'd been inseparable ever since. But the thing was… he was growing weary with no sex to keep him calm. He knew you were a virgin and he'd never push you, but what he couldn't understand is why you seemed so shy around him and the topic of sex. You were confident everywhere else (it seemed) but when it came to him touching you, you'd find a way to cower. He discovered though, that calling you baby girl brought something so primal out of you. He intended to use that. And the opportunity presented itself at one of his clubs, in his office, 

"Darling, c'mere." He demands, drawing your attention from the window looking down on the club. You strut over, setting your wine glass aside and leaning against the desk between his spread legs, "I noticed something and I'd like to… discuss it while we have some time alone together." You stare down at him, pinch in your eyebrows, 

"What do you mean?" You ask. He pats the desk before him, waiting until you lean against the wood to draw his crossed hands from his lips, 

"You know you're… delectable to me. I just," he reaches out, brushing your thick thighs apart to brush his fingertips over your panties. He smiles when you gasp, "I think about you a lot and how gorgeous you'd be laid out beneath me, writhing in pleasure." You clamp your thighs closed, Tom retreating just in time. He stands, towering over you from your laxed position with a cocky smirk, 

"Now sweet girl-" 

"I just… you've been with so many beautiful women and I-" 

"I hope that sentence is going to end with, 'I am so much better'. You do know that right. Why would I waste my time trying to keep you happy if I thought you were worse looking than any other woman I've been with." He diffuses, playing with your fingers with a cocked eyebrow. You sigh, 

"But it's not true. Those girls can pull off outfits I couldn't."

"Uhm, I'm sorry, but when you wore that green and red plaid dress thing with that cream colored turtleneck, didn't I excuse myself to go take a cold shower?" He poses. Staring up at him, you nod, 

"Yeah." He leans down to tuck hair behind your ear and catch your eye,

"So why are you constantly tearing yourself down? You're the most gorgeous girl on this planet. And I would love to show you how much you mean to me." He tells you, pressing his hands to your hips over the blue velvet dress you wear. His eyes are dark and the thrill of his office window being an easy place to be seen unless you're across his desk or on his leather couch forces so much lust to course through your veins. You swallow and stare at him a moment longer before nodding, 

"Yeah… okay." You tell him. He smiles and leans in to kiss you, 

"Good girl. Now… take everything off, and go kneel on the couch for daddy." He purrs. Your breath catches in your throat and he chuckles darkly, 

"Oh, you thought I didn't know? Yeah… your obsession with being called baby girl tells me all I need to know. But I'll be easy for your first time, promise." He purrs before he's moving from your body and towards the office door, flicking the lock on the red door as you stand before the couch, drawing the zipper down and letting your dress drop to the floor. Tom licks his lips as he watches, hands tucked in his pockets while you strip from the strapless bra and matching thong you chose tonight. He hums, shedding his jacket and starting to unbutton his shirt as you climb onto the couch on all fours, 

"You're so gorgeous." Tom murmurs as he drops his shirt to the floor, kicking his shoes off and shedding his socks before he works on his belt. You watch him, licking your lips when he presses his pants and boxers down, reaching into his desk for a condom, 

"You don't have to." You tell him. He meets your eyes, 

"I'm on birth control and… I wanna feel your cum on me daddy." You coo. You giggle when Tom's cock twitches. He abandons the condom and comes to kneel between your legs, stroking himself and pressing his tip to your entrance before he spits and presses himself into you. You gasp, head falling forward as he fills you, hands pressed over your bottom. He pauses, nestled deep inside of you, 

"So good baby. You okay?" You nod, chewing your bottom lip, 

"I'm not completely innocent. I've masturbated before so its… not as bad." You reassure. He hums before he's wrapping a hand in your hair, 

"You're a naughty little thing eh?" You nod, pressing your lips together,

"Yes daddy." He hums again before he gently moves, drawing another gasp from you. He grips your hip hard in one hand, your hair in the other. You moan and whimper, tipping your head back. He wraps your hair tighter, 

"You're my good girl huh?" He purrs. You nod, 

"Fuck… please, faster." You pant. Tom reaches beneath you to rub your clit, listening to you moan loudly before he places his foot on the couch beneath him and presses into you deeper and quicker. You cry out each time he presses his deepest, your body buzzing in pleasure, 

"C'mere baby." He poses, pulling out of you. You turn to look at him, swallowing and shaking your head when you stare at him, slouched on the couch, holding his cock up for you. He clicks his tongue, 

"Darling I've got you, come here." 

"No. I-I can't be on top."

"And why is that?" He poses, already knowing the answer. You cower away from him, 

"I don't… I don't want you to have to have my body in your face." You nearly whine and Tom clicks his tongue, moving toward you, 

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I wouldn't ask for your body in my face if I didn't want it. I want you and that's it. The same way you want my cum on you, I want you on top of me. I just wanna make you feel good, make you see how fucking perfect you are." He tells you. Younstare into his deep brown eyes, swallowing when he holds his hand out, 

"I'm not gonna be thinking how ugly you are while you ride me because its not true. Health isn't determined by what you weigh and any outfit you fill out is gorgeous on you." He reassures. You stare down at his hand again before taking it and gently moving over him. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, guiding himself back into you. You both groan before Tom presses his hands over the tops of your thighs and you move back against him. He hums once more, watching you find your groove in a few short moments. He stares up at you through his lashes as you bounce on top of him, hands rested back on his knees. He presses his hands over your breasts, sliding them down your sides and feeling the slopes and grooves of your tummy and hips. He leans up, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, heart stuttering in his chest at the way you hold the back of his head as he laps and sucks at the pebbles of both of your nipples. He wraps an arm around your waist, leaning back and pressing you chest to chest. You wrap your arm around his shoulders, holding the back of his neckas you press your cheek to his and he holds your bottom, 

"Shit. I'm so fucking close." 

"Me too." You moan. He presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing softly until you squeal and your back arches as you cum, breasts pushed into his face. He grunts, meeting each movement of your hips with a hard thrust. He maneuvers you until you're on your back before he draws out, stroking himself as he kisses your knee and squeezes his eyes shut as he cums, spilling it across your belly in short spurts. He groans, stroking every last drop from himself before he collapses between your spread legs. You lay panting for a moment before glancing down at the mess that paints across your belly. He hums, finding a few tissues on the floor beside the couch to clean up with before he watches you rise and pick your dress up, shielding your body from him. He plays with the hem of the velvet for a moment before patting the cushion beside him, 

"C'mere baby. Sit with me for a minute." You move to sit beside him. He draws your clasped hands back to reveal you to him. He sighs, 

"I promise to prove to you that you're worth all of it. You're beautiful and I love all of your outfits. You always look stunning and I just… I just want you to know that your beauty is part of the reason I'm still here. You'd be surprised how many men look at you and talk about you behind these doors baby." He tells you, stroking his fingers through your hair. You stare down at him, 

"I just… don't feel like someone like you should be with someone like me. You should have a toothpick thin girl on your arm." 

"I've had my fun with those kinda girls. I love you and I'm not going anywhere for a girl like that. You're stunning and funny and perfect to me in every way. I love your stupid little pajamas you roll into bed in. You're it babe. And I really wish you'd quit hiding from me." He tells you. You sigh,

"I just don't want you disappointed and rethinking your life when your enemies realize what your girlfriend looks like."

"I don't give a fuck what all those assholes think. You're my girl and that's it. No if, ands, or buts about it." He dismisses, "I have my own flaws and I'm not letting them get the best of me. You're beautiful and that's it." He tells you, relaxing against his couch with your skin pressed to his. Moving forward, you lean against him, head pressed to the top of his shoulder, 

"I do love you. And I'm glad you were my first." 

"And I'll be your last. You really think I'm letting you go? You looked like a fucking goddess on top of me." Giggling you stand, pressing your feet through the hole of your dress. You slide it on, 

"I need to go downstairs and get something stronger than wine." You tell him. He hums and just as you reach for your thong, he snags it, tucking it in the breast pocket of his suit jacket which he holds in his lap. A fiesty twinkle sparkles in his eye as he gives a nonchalant shrug, 

"One, you can do it without panties, especially if I might want another round from you and two, I keep souvenirs baby. Now…" He stands and pulls his boxers and pants back on, "why don't you fetch daddy a neat whiskey on the rocks eh?" And the twinkle burns brighter, mischief adding to the effect and confirming you're in for a long night.

[kindahoping4forever]

You Were Digging Plants, I Dug You // Ashton Irwin

This concept started a while back as a prompt fill and then I got stuck, used the prompt for a different piece and then that allowed me to get unstuck. (Yay!) Thank you to @cal-puddies​ for cheering me on while I figured it out (no jokes about it being too long, only clown emojis so you KNOW shit’s about to go down tbh) and also to @ashtonangst​ for her rallying when I gave her a sneak preview. 

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash (back to basics, pals), what I can only describe as Domestic Thirst, Gardening!Ash, Hammock!Ash, literally so much thirst, brief reference to exhibitionism and bondage, unprotected sex in an established relationship, oral sex performed on a male

Word Count: 3707

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

————-

You walk into the kitchen and sit your breakfast dishes in the sink, smiling to yourself when you see that Ashton has already swooped in and washed the pans you left sitting on the stove “to soak.” It was a rare occurrence for you to be up before him but you were working from home on deadline and had gotten up unreasonably early to finish up a project in time. 

With your responsibilities out of the way earlier than usual, part of you had hoped you’d find your boyfriend still in bed so you could sneak in a few extra zzzs, maybe some cuddle time. But as you survey the kitchen, you spot his keys and sports bottle on the counter, indicating he’d already been out for a run, which is typical. You fill a glass with ice, pour some coffee over it and pad off in search of Ash.

You’re not surprised where you find him: out back, indulging in his newfound favorite pastime: gardening. You’re not sure how or why this hobby started but he absolutely loves it and you've come to appreciate it too: it’s hard not to get swept up when he’s excited about something. He currently appears to be in the middle of a heated confrontation with his green beans so you decide not to bother him just yet and you settle into a chaise lounger with your coffee.

You close your eyes, lean back in your chair and bask in the morning sun for a while until you reach for your glass and feel an empty table. You frown in confusion and open your eyes to see Ashton standing over you, happily taking a sip while checking his phone. 

“Well good morning to you too, THIEF,” you jab. “You know, there’s a whole pot inside if you want coffee.”

He shrugs and takes another sip. “Don’t want coffee, want your coffee.”

Undeterred by the offended look you’re giving him, he sits on the edge of your chair and rubs your thigh. He asks you how your work went and you chat about your mornings, passing the iced drink back and forth between you until it's finished.

Ash sits the glass back down on the table and leans in to give you a quick peck before resuming his work. You attempt to deepen the kiss, throwing your arms around his neck and trying to pull him closer but he chuckles against your lips and breaks free.

“The clouds are starting to move, baby, I need to finish up before it gets too hot,” he explains, gesturing at the sky.

You run your hands over his arm as he gets up to leave. “But I missed not getting my wakeup call this morning,” you whine playfully. Since you started working from home, your favorite part of the day had quickly become seeing which one of you would be the first to suggest the morning start off with a little fooling around.

“Gotta get those stakes in the ground for my tomatoes,” he replies, squeezing your hand as he stands next to your chair, selecting a new playlist to accompany his work.

“You’d rather pound wooden stakes instead of your own girlfriend?” You tease, mockingly striking a sexy pose.

“Well especially now that you’ve referred to my sincere lovemaking as ‘pounding,’ ” he deadpans. You playfully kick at him from your chair but you’re a split second too late and he’s already walking back out to the garden. 

You leave him to his work and return a while later with your laptop and another coffee, planning to get some work done while enjoying the nice day and your boyfriend’s company. But as you sit your things on the table, one glance over to the garden makes you realize you’ve walked into quite the distracting environment. 

Judging from the pair of 8 foot wooden poles that are now protruding from the ground and the amount of sweat soaking through the back of his white t-shirt, Ashton has been hard at work. You're impressed by his progress but as he climbs onto his step stool to place his last stake, you realize it’s the perfect stage for you to drink in all the things you love about the way he’s built and you find your mind and eyes wandering. 

You watch closely as he stretches his body to reach the top of the post and when you see the way his t-shirt is pulling between his shoulder blades, you’re reminded of how you were deprived of dragging your nails down his back that morning. Your eyes travel down and you consider how much you love his ass in light wash denim and how tight the material fits over his thick thighs.

Before you get too far fantasizing about bouncing on his thigh, Ash begins hammering the stick into the soil and your focus is drawn to his arms flexing with each strike; the rolled up sleeves of his t-shirt leave his glistening muscles and tattoos on display. You shift in your seat when you notice his long fingers curling around the rod and you start thinking about how much you wish they were wrapping around something else, like your throat or his own cock.

Your filthy daydream is shattered by the vibration of your phone, alerting you to a text message. You manage to tear yourself away long enough to type out what you hope is a coherent reply and when you look back up, he’s almost done tying the vines of his plant to the newly installed stake. He furrows his brow and you can’t help but recognize it’s the same look of concentration you saw on his face last week when you watched him tie your wrists to the bed frame.  

You zone out until you see he’s on his way to return the toolbox and stool to the garage. You feign interest in what’s on your computer screen and somehow manage not to watch his ass as he walks away.

When Ash returns 10 minutes later you nearly burst out laughing at the absurdity of your situation. He’s traded his jeans for a loose pair of athletic shorts, lost his shirt entirely and is heading towards you with a giant bag of soil effortlessly hoisted over one shoulder and a large ceramic pot on the other.

“Just about finished there, handsome?” You ask, hoping the desperation you were feeling doesn’t come through in your voice.

“Not quite,” he says, oblivious to your need and instead bubbling about his project. “Those lavender seeds you picked out were delivered this morning, I wanna pot a couple of those for you.”

Your body is frustrated knowing you’ll have to wait longer for his attention but your heart sings at how happy this all makes him and how eager he is to share it with you. “Sounds good,” you smile at him. “I have a couple things to finish up and then maybe I'll make us some lunch.” 

He sits in the seat next to you, beaming, setting up his supplies at the table. You both get to work but it takes less than five minutes for you to let your eyes wander over and observe him leaning over his pot, working with his large hands.

You feel a varied wave of emotions watching him. In one moment, seeing his hands firmly pat the soil with an open palm, you feel the urgent need to have him recreate that action on your ass. But in the next, the gentle way he’s handling the seeds reminds you of how his hands tenderly dance over your skin when you’re laying in bed, satisfied and talking softly to each other. 

Ashton feels your gaze on him and looks up, eyes sparkling. “This’ll be so much fun when it blooms, baby, you made a good pick,” he exuberantly chats while you gather up your things. “Soaps and teas and candles… we’re gonna make so much fuckin’ cool shit.”

You smile fondly at his excitement and lean down to hug him from behind as you pass by. “You’re cute, you know that?” You press a kiss to the tattoo on the back of his neck and head inside.

You putter around the house, doing mundane things like plugging in your computer and seeing what's available for lunch but you can't keep your mind from wandering, filling with thoughts both erotic and soft. You thought this started just from disrupting your usual morning routine with him but it’s spiraled into the most distracting thing of all: you're horny but now you're horny with feelings.

You poke your head out the backdoor to ask Ash if he’ll be ready to eat soon but he’s not at the table where you left him; you laugh when you walk further into the yard and see him sprawled out in his hammock with his eyes closed.

“The second I leave, suddenly you’re done working. I’m starting to think that was all just a show for me,” you joke as you get closer.

He smiles at the sound of your voice and opens his arms, swinging one leg out of the hammock, placing it on the ground to stabilize it, indicating for you to get in.

“Ew, you’re all sweaty, though,” you tease as you carefully climb in.

He snorts as if to say “yeah right” as you curl up into his side and rest your head directly on his bare chest. He strokes your hair, you draw designs on his skin with your fingertips and you both lay quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the fresh air and the presence of each other. 

“Everything’s looking great out there, Ash,” you break the silence to compliment him. “You’re really working hard and it shows. I love that you love it so much.” You lean down to press a kiss to the coin tattoo on his side.

You can feel the pride and appreciation radiating from him as he kisses the top of your head. “Thanks, baby. It’s been a lot of fun exploring something new.”

“I can tell... And watching you out there today kinda made me want to have some fun exploring too,” you say with a flirtatious edge to your voice, your hands starting to dance down his chest.

He giggles with delight, “That’s so fucking lame!” He cradles your chin up to him and kisses you sweetly. “You only get that cheesy when you're really worked up; I thought I felt you eyeing me out there but I didn’t know it was that bad, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know how you expect me to react, all sweaty and muscle-y and shit,” you playfully slap his chest and defend yourself. “I’m sitting there hoping you’ll be done so I can shower with you and instead you want to plant something for me? How am I not supposed to be dripping?”

Ashton laughs heartily and it reverberates throughout your entire body as you lay on him. You love the sound but you love the taste of him even more so you press your lips to his again. The two of you lay there, cuddled up together in the hammock, lazily making out for a lot longer than you would’ve expected, given how badly you’ve been wanting him all day.

Eventually, his hand ends up under your t-shirt and your hand finds its way down his shorts. Neither of you are in a hurry to speed things along; he leisurely palms your breasts, occasionally twirling a nipple. You lightly stroke his cock, enough to get him hard but not so much that he’s eager for this part to be over. It’s a comfortable, casual groove you fall into; enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies and the desire that mounts with each murmur escaping from both your and his lips.

You continue like this for a bit longer until his hand travels down your shorts and he feels how wet you are for him; the groan he lets out against your lips makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck, baby, you do need it, don’t you?” He teases you, fingers dipping in and out of your folds. “Poor thing, have you been soaked like this all morning? Think I’ve spoiled you, can’t even go a few hours without me.”

You moan into his kiss and together, you get yourself out of your shorts and panties. Ash tosses his own shorts to the side and you can tell he’s trying to mentally run the logistics and figure out which position is best suited to hammock sex; you’ve admittedly spent a fair amount of time thinking about this and you spring into action, cautiously rearranging your bodies, aiming to get on top. 

The bed starts swaying as you move and he instinctively puts his leg on the ground to stabilize it like before; you nod your approval and are able to safely straddle him. He rubs your thighs affectionately and offers, “This seems a little ill-advised, let’s go in and I’ll fuck you in the shower like you said.”

You lean down to kiss first his lips and then over his jaw and neck. “You’ve done so much work today, babe,” you reply, already a bit breathy. “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

You sit up and slip him inside you; you take a moment to close your eyes and savor the sensation of him filling you, stretching you out. He’s right, you must be spoiled. You had him just last night and yet you’ve been craving this feeling and you’re so relieved to finally be experiencing it again.

You tentatively start moving on his cock, trying to test the limitations of your current location; he swings his other leg out the other side, giving you a bit more steadiness to work with but you still pay close attention to your movements. A couple bounces has the hammock making questionable noises so you decide on a kind of slow, rocking motion to start off with.

“This good for you, Ash?” You check, biting your lip to hold in a moan, wanting to get an honest opinion from him.

“Mmm hmm,” he murmurs, hands running all over your ass and thighs. “Don’t kill us, don’t kill my hammock and I’m good with anything, baby.” You roll your eyes at his noncommittal attitude but judging by the way he’s licking his lips and his fingers are digging into your skin, it seems to be working for him just fine. 

You lean back, bracing yourself on his legs to get a different angle; you close your eyes and moan as he hits deeper inside you, causing you to arch your back. You feel his hands trying to pull your shirt up but he can’t quite reach. “Wanna see those pretty tits, baby,” he rasps. 

Ashton holds your hips, helping you balance as you sit up and pull your top off. You look around slightly, considering your surroundings as you throw the clothing to the ground. You lean in and lowly ask, “That wall is high enough that no one can see, right? I’m not trying to give a peep show to the neighbors.”

“Oh sweetheart, they’ve definitely already seen the show when I’ve had you pressed against the upstairs window before,” he jokes, massaging your breasts now that you're close enough.

You shake your head amusedly and resume moving. You circle your hips a few times but the bed shifts a little more than you’d like so you try a slower grind. You discover you’re able to achieve a wonderful friction on your clit if you keep at it while you’re leaned in to him and you can’t help the sounds that begin pouring from your lips.

Ash pinches your nipples, watching with rapt attention as you work yourself up. “Love seeing you like this,” he breathes. “So hot watching you use my cock to get what you need.” 

You scratch your nails over his chest and he hisses; you whimper softly in return and lean in more, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. “Want you to get what you need too, handsome,” you pant against him, increasing your pace a little.

“What I need is for us to get off before one of us gets so rowdy we end up flying out of this hammock,” he cracks, desire and amusement lighting up his eyes.

His hands roam from your chest to your ass and he grips your cheeks tight. He experimentally rocks up into you, causing you both to gasp. He gently moves against you again and you slowly follow his pleasurable rhythm while remaining careful not to upset the hammock.

The languid pace makes for a torturous buildup to your orgasm but you do feel it building. You can tell that Ashton isn’t nearly as close as you are so you attempt to slow your hips again but he grabs your ass tighter and drives his cock into you deeper. “Go ahead and cum, baby, I know you need it,” he encourages. 

You moan softly and arch your back again, finding that friction you need. He sneaks his hand between your bodies and presses his thumb to your clit and it only takes a few rubs to set you off. Your eyes close and your mouth wordlessly babbles as your body tenses and your pussy throbs around him; his touch both intensifies and soothes your feelings as he quietly intones, “Good girl, baby, yes. Fuck, look at you. Such a good girl.”

You bask in the pleasure you’ve been waiting all day for and eventually your body begins to relax; you brace yourself on his chest, taking a moment to collect yourself. He tenderly rubs up and down your arms and you open your eyes to grin at him warmly, silently thanking him for his patience.

You bend down, kissing along his jaw and you euphorically chirp, “Love your cock… love you.”

He chuckles at both your words and at your kisses tickling his skin. “I won’t take offense to the fact that my cock ranks first on your list.”

You smirk at him and slide gracefully down his body, letting him slip out of you; you promptly use your tongue to begin cleaning the evidence of your release off his cock and he curses under his breath appreciatively. You take him in your mouth and bob as enthusiastically as your location will allow. 

You can immediately tell by the way his breathing has changed that this will be more than enough to finish him off and it’ll be relatively soon. You pull off and rest your head on his hip as you stroke him steadily. “Feeling good, handsome?” You coo, enjoying the way he seems to shudder under your touch on every downstroke.

“Love your mouth… love you,” he quips, in a voice that is somehow simultaneously amused at his own joke and nearly blissed out from how you’re working him.

You giggle at his wisecrack and lean over to take his balls in your mouth; your tongue dances over the seam and he yelps deliciously, hands rushing to grip your hair. You pull off with a pop. “That’s what you get for being a smartass while I’m trying to make you cum.”

Before he can protest, your tongue is on him again, licking over the drops of precum that have dribbled down his shaft and he’s groaning your name. You brace your hands on his thighs and start to sink down to swallow him into your throat but he’s pulling you back up by your hair before you get very far. “Too close, baby,” he warns.

Heeding his advice, you decide to instead suckle at his tip and jerk him off again; you open your mouth and flit your tongue along the ridges of his head and as you run over his slit, he makes an obscene noise you can’t get enough of.

Ash alerts you of his orgasm with a squeeze to your shoulder and a strained chant of “Baby… baby… fuck…” and it’s enough for you to quickly get your mouth back on him in time to feel his cock twitching against your tongue as he starts to cum. He grunts quietly in time with your head’s movements and you cheer him on with an eager “mmm” for each spurt you swallow down.

His breathing begins to slow and you contentedly hum as you release him from your mouth and peck your way back up his body. You rest your head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeat settle and he plays with your hair, satisfied and lost in thought. 

A minute or so passes before you pop your head up, inquiring, "Ready for lunch now?"

Ash lets out a gleeful cackle. "Got what you wanted, now you're ready to move on, huh?"

You shrug, carefully navigating your way out of the hammock and collecting your clothes, tossing his shorts to him. "Thought you knew by now I'm only here for your body," you smirk as you get dressed.

He stands up and steps into his shorts, pulling you in to him as soon as he's done. "Same," he teases, managing to both smack your ass harshly and also kiss you lovingly.

Ashton swings his arm around you and you turn to walk towards the house together; you've only gotten a few steps away when you hear a cartoonish metallic crash. You both whip around to see the bed of the hammock freely swinging off of the frame that has both collapsed and become uprooted from where it was secured.

Your hand flies to cover your mouth and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, waiting to see how he'll react.

Ashton puckers his lips and shifts them from side to side as if he's contemplating how irritated to be. Finally a devilish look crosses his face and he quips, "Well… I guess the good news is: if just watching me plant things got you this horny, it'll be fun to see what you'll want to do to me after you witness the actual hard work I'll have to do repairing this."

—-

@mymindwide​ @suchalonelysunflower​ @pxrxmoore​  @loveroflrh​ @ghostofmashton​ @sexgodashton​ @feliznavidaddycal​  @castaway-cashton​ @boomerash​ @cashtonasfuck​ @megz1985​ @ashdork-irwin​ @angelicfluffs​ @findingliam-o​ @abadaftertaste​  @myloverboyash​ @youngbloodchild​ @irwinsbetch​ @ashsun​ @everyscarisahealingplace​ @wiildflower-xxx​  @metalandboybands​ @another-lonely-heart​ @realisticnotes​ @makeamovehemmings​ @ashtondaddy90​ @golden166​ @burstintocolor​ @mfartzzz​ @babyoria​ @saphseoul @petunias-pet​ @youngblood199456​ @notinthesameway- @seanna313​ @calumftduke​ @zhangyixingxing1​ @stardust-galaxies​ @Redeserts @zackoid​ @queenalienscherrypie @xsongxbirdx​ @justhereforcalum​​ @laura66sos​ @calumrose​ @karajaynetoday​​ @valdanvers​ @Obey-Kaylin @lovelybonesetc​​

Click here if you’d like to be tagged for future fics and click here if your name is on my list but crossed out (Tumblr won’t let me @ you)

[minijenn]

8 Favorite Works of the Year

So I wasn’t tagged to do this but I kinda wanted to anyway. Because I did a lot of creating this year and dangit I wanna look back on it fondly, so...

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!

To be fair I’m gonna pick four pieces of art and four chapters from my fics, two of each from either Keys or UF to be fair about things. With that said here  we go, in kind of no particular order! Starting with fics: 

Keys to the Kingdom, Chapter 22: Rise and Fall and Rise Again: So I wrote this chapter kind of at the start of all the Covid/lockdown madness, when I had just started working from home and felt kinda trapped inside my own apartment, with a lingering sense of doom hanging over my head just about every day (something that hasn’t really gone away). As a result, I poured my emotions into this one, a chapter I’d been planning for such a long time, only for it to come out even better than I could have expected! I think this is where Keys really starts to get good (well, this one and the chapter right before it that leads into it). Its the longest chapter of Keys (so far) and it really is just a ton of angst and hurt and comfort and kind of a pretty good character study for both Sora and Kairi if you ask me, and it does pave the way for Keys 2nd arc (which we’re knee deep in the middle of now!). Overall it has a lot of very poignant lines in it, a lot of emotional scenes, and some pretty cute moments of fluff mixed in to leave you feeling good, its a real treat every time I go back to revisit it. 

Universe Falls, Ch. 80, Part 1: Rifts: So this year was kinda sparse on really BIG UF chapters, but Rifts is for sure probably the biggest chapter in UF yet. And I’m so, so proud of it, I think it has some incredible high points of action in it, its very intense and emotional and the situation just keeps building from bad to worse and you really just feel for Steven, and Dipper, and Stepper alike and Bill is such an asshole in it and gah! Its so good I love it so much and I had such a fun time writing it, especially after waiting YEARS to finally get the chance to. I think its fantastic. 

Keys to the Kingdom, Ch. 27: What Once Was Mine: This is absolutely my favorite Disney world chapter in the entire fic so far (tho that second Beauty and the Beast chapter comes REALLY close to it!); it has such a broad range of emotions, starting out really fun and lighthearted and sweet and then it starts spiraling into fear and pain and intensity and finally it bottoms out at sheer despair, culminating in probably one of my favorite Trinity Trio scenes in this entire fic. Its not always easy mixing Keys’ original plot elements with the Disney stuff, but in this chapter it felt so natural to do so, like the Tangled stuff just fit so well. I love how it turned out and it really is another big turning point in the fic’s trajectory if you ask me. 

Universe Falls, Ch. 80, Part 3: Dimensions: So I ALMOST picked Memories for this list (and don’t get me wrong, I LOVE it!) but I think Dimensions has it beat by just a hair. Its just so intense and dramatic from start to end, with a huge epic battle against Bill, a real show of just how much Steven and Dipper care for each other, emotional reactions from just about the entire squad, and lasting impacts for the rest of the fic. I think it was a perfect way to conclude a trilogy of chapters I’d been so excited about writing since UF’s earliest days, and I’ll never stop being proud of how it all came together in the end. 

And now we move onto some art!

The RMD Promo art was a fun little pet project I wanted to take on, more for me than for the chapters itself. They’re all pretty symbolic to the tone/events of each chapter, from coloring, to posing, to the flower symbolism (which was so fun to research and implement), plus I can never pass up the opportunity to draw my best boy Stepper! 

My Castle of Dreams Sokai piece really just blew up in popularity here on Tumblr. Again it was just something fun and cute I wanted to do, because I have the moment envisioned so vividly in my mind I figured might as well draw it out and I still think it looks so nice, the way these two are looking at each other with such love in their eyes is.... 100% if ya ask me

The Dimensions cover fucking popped off. The coloring, the dynamic posing, the expressions, I really did kinda flex on this one. Yet for as many moving parts as there are in it, its a very simple piece as well, though I do kinda love the idea of Bill just... looming over everyone coming to kick his ass; it really is accurate to how the chapter itself goes down if ya ask me. 

Ok so I know I literally just fucking posted this thing yesterday but I’m proud of it (also I made a self-imposed rule that  commissions aren’t allowed to be in this, only art I drew of my own volition) and I drew this yesterday mostly for funsies and it... kinda got intense. Anyway, I’m trying to learn how to pose KH characters more dynamically and this was part of that. And I loooooove how creepy it is, its hella cool on that front if ya ask me. 

So yeah, I’m supposed to tag people who wanna do this but ehhhghghghghghg just go ahead and do the damn thing if you feel like it, I mean i wasn’t tagged and here I am so go nuts :3

[the-peak-of-despair]

Mastermind! Chihiro Fujisaki - The Sixth Trial

This wasn’t exactly an old request, just a suggestion to write whatever I felt like. And I love mastermind AUs so fucking much, please, flood my inbox asking about them, I just wanna talk about our lord and savior mastermind chihiro - Mod Akane

“And that would mean..” Makoto begins, the realization striking him as he turns to Chihiro, staring fearfully back at him. “Y-You’re the mastermind, Chihiro!” 

There’s doubt in his voice. He doesn’t want to believe it. His friend, who’d opened up to him, who shares his deepest secrets, in his most vulnerable state… he’d orchestrated all of this? From the outside, he looked like he would burst into tears if he killed a bee. Suppose that’s the trick behind it…

“C-Chihiro..? I-It was you..?” Asahina stutters, looking at him horrified.

“I-I-” Chihiro begins to stutter. He looks like he’s on the verge of bursting into tears. No one in the courtroom believes this claim, how could they? But the evidence was stacked against him.. 

It’s before anyone can argue that Chihiro snaps into an entirely new persona, and the tears are gone. “Yep! That’s me! I’m the mastermind!” 

Everyone takes a step back. Chihiro’s face contorted in a way no one had ever imagined. In an instant, his entire personality changed. His tears evaporated into thin air and despair seemed to wash over his face, seeping down to his very core as his eyes lost all sign of true emotion.

“Gosh, you’re so smart, Makoto!” Chihiro says, clapping his hands like a child. “I can’t believe you found me out!” 

“No. There’s simply no way this is possible.” Byakuya interrupts, crossing his arms. “Chihiro, stop playing games. There’s no way you are the mastermind.”

“Oh no, I really am!” Chihiro smiles. With a snap of his fingers, Monokuma shut down, almost like he was playing dead where he stood on the ground. Chihiro left his podium and approached the robot, standing next to it and humming while he examined it.

..And then, in a sudden instant, he slammed his foot into the robot, kicking it as hard as he could. Monokuma flew into a distant wall, shattering into a million black and white pieces as Chihiro didn’t even blink. Everyone in the courtroom drew back, even Byakuya and Kirigri, unable to hide their shock.

“H-Holy shit!” Yashuiro screams in fear as Chihiro turns back towards the circle of survivors. The room begins to fill with smoke, making most people cough and wave it away from their faces. In a second, it clears, revealing Chihiro in a new outfit, with a Monokuma-esq color palette to boot.

“Da-dun-dun! That’s right, the mastermind all along was Chihiro Fujisaki!” He smiles wildly, throwing his arms out in a grand gesture. Standing between Asahina and Yashuiro at his new podium, he seems so small, but he’s so.. Terrifying. The sudden switch in personalities shook everyone to the very core.

“This doesn’t make sense..” Kirigiri mutters. “How could you control Monokuma and almost never leave our sight?” 

Chihiro backs up until he’s sat on top of the ‘throne’ Monokuma used to always sit on top of. He crosses his legs and leans back, getting comfortable in his seat above everyone else. “Pfffffffft! He’s an AI, come on Kirigiri, aren’t you smarter than this?” Chihiro mocks Kirigiri. “I’ve been living under your noses as the Ultimate Programmer, Monokuma wasn’t even my best work!” 

“That doesn’t make sense. His movements and conversations with us.. They’re nothing like any AI I’ve ever seen.” Byakuya argues.

“Clean your glasses, Byakuya! Didn’t you see Alter Ego?” Chihiro poses the question as he sits up and leans over the arm of his chair towards Byakuya. “They’re all easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy!~ I’ve got an iron grip on the technology production from here to Towa City!”

“Speaking of Alter Ego..” Kirgiri interrupts, halting Byakuya’s personal slander. “What was the point of presenting him to us?” 

Chihiro lets out a giggle. “Yeaah, Alter Ego was a bit of a mistake on my part! You weren’t supposed to find it. But since you did I thought it wouldn’t hurt to spin you in the wrong direction a bit!” 

“And his execution?”

“Oh, that was Monokuma’s decision! Spur of the moment thing. I didn’t really mind, it was collateral damage!” Chihiro shrugs. “Collateral damage.. Kinda like Mondo and Kiyotaka!” He smiles, and as he watches everyone in the room come to a full stop before looking at Chihiro with disgust.

“C-Collateral d-damage..?” Makoto stutters. “T-Those were our friends, Chihiro! What the.. What the hell!? They were your friends!”

“Huh, were they?” Chihiro asks sarcastically, tapping a finger to his chin. “Huh. If they were, I just used them!” 

“Y-You what…?” Asahina stutters.

“I used them! I mean, Mondo and Taka were like a package deal! I needed Mondo to make me stronger, and Taka only played by my rules! Let me tell you, it was s-”

“S-Shut up!” Makoto interrupts Chihiro, who perks up, interested in his sudden boldness. “W-We still need to talk about what happened in the last trial!”

“Oooh, you mean where I killed Sakura and framed Toko ‘cus I got bored? What’s there to talk about?” Chihiro asks, excited. “...Aha, did I let that slip?” 

“R-Repeat that.” Asahina suddenly becomes cold, her fists balled tight at her sides. 

“I’m sure you heard me, Asahina!” Chihiro smiles, standing from his throne and once again approaching the podium. “I killed Sakua and framed Toko!”

Asahina begins to breathe heavy, doing  everything in her power to contain her anger as Chihiro continues to talk. “I mean, really, do you think Toko could actually kill Sakura? I don’t even think her wacky double-personality could’ve taken her down! So I worked a bit of magic, aaand..!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Asahina screams, slamming her hands on her podium. “Y-You- You bastard! What the fuck is wrong with you Chihiro?!” She screams, turning and grabbing him by the collar, dragging him close to her face, so close that his feet barely grazed the ground. “I- You fucking killed her! Y-You killed Sakura! I-I- I loved her, you...you..!”

Chihiro doesn’t even look phased as Asahina spits venom in his face. “Hey, Hina! You remember what happened to Junko? Right?” He grins sadistically as the fear begins to strike Asahina, who drops him and takes a step back. 

There’s a familiar whirring noise, and out of nowhere there's a spear that shoots from the middle of the room towards Asahina, almost identical to what happened to Junko. Asahina flinches and draws back violently, forcing the spear to only grace her cheek before slamming into the wall behind her. She opens her eyes, breathing heavy with fear as she held her hand to her cheek. “O-Oh my god..”  

“Gah, I missed!” Chihiro pouts. “I need to get better at shooting games.” 

“G-Games?! Y-You could’ve killed me!” Asahina yells, still holding a hand to her cheek. 

“That’s the fun in it!” Chihiro grins. Once upon a time, this was a wide, innocent grin. Now, it was nothing but evil. Full of despair and agony. And that’s probably exactly what Chihiro wanted. 

Makoto could only wonder- what could possibly push this poor boy to the breaking point..?

If you looked close enough, the answer was laid out in plain sight. 

“Well!” Chihiro claps his hands. “What is there to talk about now? Surely the trial won’t come to a close so easily!” Chihiro scans the room, taking in every facial expression of pure disgust and pain around him. 

“Why..? Why did you do all this?” Makoto asks, basically gripping his podium for dear life. He couldn’t just take all of this in easily. One of his best friends, through this entire hellhole, a person he’d protected with his fucking life and would follow into battle blindly… he was the mastermind? Chihiro, a boy who no one would suspect, he was pulling the strings, he’d orchestrated every death, he’d warped Hope’s Peak into a place of despair..? 

He recalls the moment in the bathhouse when he told Kirigiri: “I’d follow you into battle if I had to!” 

And her response.. “Not such a wise choice, is it?”

Chihiro’s face falls. “Do you know what it’s like, Makoto..?” His tone changes, it’s low and unlike anything anyone had heard from Chihiro before. “To be bullied, every single day, pummeled into the fucking dirt?!” Despair overwhelms his entire face, but he starts to laugh.. “Every.. Goddamn day! Until the point where you.. Hahaa.. You’ve gotta change your whole identity, just to be safe!”  

“Chihiro.. I-” Yasuhiro looks like he’s about to set a hand on his shoulder. Forgetting for just a moment that this was a boy who’d killed his friends, and possibly even thousands, just remembering that once upon a time they were friends.  

Chihiro smacks his hand away with alarming strength, still laughing all as tears gather in his eyes. “NO!” He screams, almost like it was a reflex. “I don’t need.. Ahahaha.. I don’t need anyone’s help anymore! That despair..it only.. It only made me stronger! AhahaAHAHAHA! A-And I- I’ve basked this entire world in despair!” Chihiro hugs himself, breaking into boisterous, manic laughter. 

“What do you mean, the entire world?” Byakuya asks, seemingly unphased by Chihiro’s manic breakdown. Of course, Byakuya wasn’t ever ‘friends’ with the boy… though part of him couldn’t help but reflect on the.. Choice words he’d used against him before. 

Chihiro doesn’t even stop laughing. “Oh, ah..ahaha! I forgot all about that! While you were all locked up in here, the entire world has plunged into despair!” He claps his hands twice, before throwing his arms out wide, gesturing towards the monitors on every corner of the room. The monitors flicker, then turn on, showing a repeating news broadcast.

The broadcast was simple, a repetitive broadcast of a red sky overtop of war and destruction, all with the face of Monokuma plastered all over.  It shakes everyone in the room to the core, except for Chihiro, who gleefully watches his handiwork as he wipes his tears away. “Isn’t it lovely!? Everything destroyed.. Right down to your very bloodlines!”

“No. I simply won’t believe this.” Byakuya starts again. “This is foolish. A highschool boy couldn’t just take down the world.”

“Ahaha, I didn’t work alone, silly Byakuya!” Chihiro grins. “Despair spreads like a plague! And that plague even took down your precious Togami family!” 

“Wh-What..?” Fear seems to take over  Byakuya, if only for a split second. “Th-The Togami family doesn’t just lay down and die! Who the hell backs you!?”

Chihiro laughs. “Despair, dummy! How many times do I gotta repeat myself!?” The words send Byakuya down a spiral, even without evidence.. The very thought shook him to the core.

“H-Hey!” Makoto argues. “This can’t be true! Last I remember, the world was just fine! We’ve been here a month, tops, there’s no way you could’ve done this in all that time!” 

“Weren’t we already over this?” Chihiro asks. “You lost your memories! If I whack ya hard enough, you might get ‘em back! But we’ve all been cooped up, shielded from the outside world! And now you’ve spent your days trying to crawl out of this home we all built together! Isn’t that just a tad hypocritical?” 

“W-Wait, you mean..?” Asahina catches what Chihiro means first- the world had crumbled, and they’d all been here for two years, and then they… 

“W-What was the point of all of this!?” Makoto asks, cutting off any other thought processes about how they’d been gone for two whole years. 

“Huh? Well, I kept you alive, hijacked the airwaves, and displayed you murdering each other for the world to see because I wanted to spread despair to the last dying shreds of hope in the world!” Chihiro explains casually. “I mean, I’ve laid this all out in plain sight for you.” 

“W-” Byakuya begins to speak.

Chihiro interrupts. “Yeah, yeah, be quiet, we’ve had enough of you. Now!” He claps his hands together, excited. “Since this is a trial, I give you one last vote. You can vote for despair- vote to give me the punishment I deserve- or, vote for hope, and stay here for the rest of your golden days!”

“L-Let me get this straight..” Asahina starts. “If we just vote for hope, none of us die..?” 

Chihiro hums. “Well, I suppose, but.. That doesn’t sound as fun! So how about this: vote for hope, and I’ll only execute one of you! The rest of you get to live out the rest of your lives with moi.” He folds his hands under his chin, in an oh-so familiar way. Was he mocking Celeste..? 

“W-Who’ll get executed..?” Yasuhiro stutters.

“Hm..” Chihiro hums as he looks around the room. He starts pointing from person to person. “Eenie.. Meanie… minie… you!” He lands on Makoto, who exhibits a fearful look in return.

“Y-You’ll execute me…?” Makoto stutters, fearful. Somewhere inside him, this felt familiar. 

“Well of course! You seem to be the obvious answer.” Chihiro smiles gleefully, as if he didn’t just imply that with ease he would slaughter his friend. “Why, you used to be my closest friend! You.. were the first person I trusted! What better despair than for you to die at my own hands?” 

Makoto takes a deep breath as he turns to his friends, full of despair and pain. Their hands hovering over their levers, obvious that they would seem.. Almost willing to put Makoto’s life on the line. He looks back at Chihiro, with a devilish grin paired with despair-filled eyes. He starts to laugh, like a loud symphony, bouncing off the walls and into everyone’s ears in an inescapable manner. He laughs so hard he almost starts crying once more, laughing so much it hurt.

Laughing like someone who’d been torn up inside and out and loved every fucking minute of it.

[harryandmolly]

fear and loathing in mandeville canyon *7* - final

A/N: thanks for hanging out, guys. always a pleasure 💜

summary: Shawn & Lilly, derailed, detoured, but maybe not destroyed

warnings: language, butter, adulting

wc: 5.6k

----------

Lilly takes shallow breaths, all her tight core will allow as she carefully raises her legs back up over her head. The pressure at the crown is almost unbearable -- she’s probably still not totally strong enough to support all her weight in her core and arms like this in a tripod headstand, but she’s never been able to successfully raise her legs off the floor. So she can ignore the pesky brain pulsing. For a few seconds.

Lilly huffs and lowers her legs slowly, spread as wide as she can get them, until her feet hit the floor, taking some of the weight off her head. She unfurls to sit, blinks quickly and grins, catching a glimpse of her bright eyes and flushed cheeks in the reflection of the open glass door. Lilly straightens her back and admires herself, strong and stable, the result of a lot of hard fucking work.

She completes her practice as directed by her perky online instructor and lies in supported fish pose a little longer than usual. She rolls her hips, noticing the way it affects each notch of vertebrae in her back.

Her phone buzzes beside her mat. Her nose twitches as she fights a smile. She glances at it, though she doesn’t need to to know who it is.

Shawn: you coming?

Lilly closes her eyes and types back by muscle memory.

Lilly: shhhhh I’m zen

She rests her phone on her stomach and enjoys the way the night breeze sifts through the room.

The phone makes an angrier but muffled sound on her skin. She checks it, expecting a whining plea or a series of emojis. Instead her jaw drops and she chokes on a breath and pushes herself to sit.

Lilly knows this house as well as her own now. She traces her fingers lovingly along the hallway walls as she winds her way down the stairs and follows the music. It’s Harry Styles, which explains a lot.

The sliding doors to the pool are unlatched but shut to keep out the dreaded mosquitos. It’s past dusk now, the sky will go from cobalt to midnight soon. The pool lights make the water glow a smooth, clean turquoise. It’s interrupted by the boy in the shallow end with his arms hanging on the side, wearing a smirk that barely contains a goofy grin.

Lilly toes carefully over the gravel, hissing as it bites at her feet. The song changes to “Watermelon Sugar,” which incidentally is very appropriate, given the contents of his last text. He notices it too and that smirk gets even dopier.

Lilly shakes her head and glides to the edge of the pool, curling her opalescent painted toes over the edge. She crosses her arms and waves her phone.

“Is this a tease or an actual invitation?”

Shawn lifts a shoulder coyly. He draws a hand into the water and wiggles his fingers through it, looking casual. “Both, I guess. I got you out here, didn’t I?”

Lilly laughs and nods, glancing around. He already grabbed towels for them both when he came out here an hour ago to do laps, part of his regular routine now.

She hears movement in the water and looks down to see him wading toward her. He blinks innocently through wet, dark lashes and places a gentle kiss to each of her big toes, then rests his cheek on her feet.

“Your sushi’s inside on the counter,” he murmurs.

Lilly nods. “I’ll get it later.”

While his eyes are down, Lilly lifts her ribbed crop tank over her head and tosses it on a nearby chair. He lifts his head in time to watch her bare nipples harden in the breeze. His eyes bulge.

“Uh oh, I’m in trouble now,” he teases, kicking off the wall to float on his back as he watches her undress. She wriggles out of her leggings and panties while keeping her eyes on the hills and valleys of his torso.

As she rounds the corner of the pool to take the stairs, Shawn straightens up, sniffing and pushing his hands back through his hair. He opens his arms to her. She walks right in, tucking her arms and legs around him. His content sigh is so heavy the water ripples around them.

His hands wander her back and tangle in the ends of her hair, which looks redder and silkier in the water. Their heads rest side by side like they each need the other to hold them up. Lilly turns her face into his ear, giving his cartilage a lick and greedily sniffling the chlorine in his hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the dirtiest text you’ve ever sent me.”

She feels him chuckle and holds him even tighter. He scoops his hands down around her ass and starts to wade deeper into the water.

“You inspire me,” Shawn whispers, swaying with her toward the edge, where he can pin her up against the tile wall. She hisses upon contact with the cool stone and he takes the opportunity to steal a kiss.

It’s languid, exploring. She’s pretty sure he knows better than to try to fuck her in the pool. That’s only hot in movies. She thinks maybe he just missed her.

“How’d it go today?” she hums.

“Good. Mostly. There are still a few pieces that need to come together for the first two tracks and I’m still not quite getting what I want for track eight, but it was productive.”

Despite their circumstances, Lilly and Shawn have been pseudo-functional adults lately. Once the tent (as they’ve taken to calling the makeshift recording booth) went up, Shawn buckled down to focus on recording and working with producers and the other musicians tracking instruments. Lilly has finally tossed herself full time into writing, breaking for yoga and snacks and to visit him, if she’s super quiet, which she’s not, so she always gets politely kicked out after a take or two.

“How ‘bout you?”

Lilly pecks at the corner of his mouth and nods. “Also good. I almost totally rewrote that scene from yesterday but honestly I feel a lot better about it. It has some life in it now.”

“Good,” Shawn purrs, aiming his lips down at her shoulder. She smiles and tilts her nose into his hair again. Greedy, greedy.

“And… I finally did it.”

Shawn lifts his head and watches her like her face will give him a clue. In a matter of seconds, he lights up.

“Shut the fuck up. The whole way?”

Lilly’s cheeks scrunch with the effort of her smile. “The whole way. Probably killed a bunch of brain cells, but I did it.”

“Lill, that’s nuts! That’s so awesome!” he cries, squeezing her tighter, “Shit, I wanted to film it! I was gonna put it on Insta and tag you as #fitspo!”

Lilly snorts and drops her forehead to rest against his. “What a fun way to announce us to the world.”

“That I’m having really hot yoga sex with my really hot, stretchy girlfriend? I love that for me.”

Lilly cackles, dropping her head back against the stone. Shawn plods kisses up her throat.

“Will you show me later?” he asks, speaking into her wet skin.

“Not tonight, you’re going to be very busy, remember?”

Shawn goes quiet and still for a moment, then jolts with a laugh. “Uh huh, right. So busy. All night long kinda busy.”

Lilly can’t hide her squirm. Shawn gathers her in off the wall so she’s plastered against him, their noses brushing.

“That’s the best kind of busy.”

+

“Don’t headbutt me, don’t headbutt me, don’t headbutt me…”

Lilly’s quite sure he can’t hear her, even though he’s lying on top of her. He refused to get out of bed to get the phone charging cord, so he rolled over onto Lilly, his head on her chest under the sheets, as his hand flails toward the ground.

Lilly’s face scrunches up as he grunts and wriggles.

“Don’t headbutt me, don’t--”

“Huh?”

Shawn lifts his head straight into Lilly’s chin, even as she tries at the last second to tilt it away. His enormous head smacks into the base of her jaw, making her clench down on her tongue. She wails.

“Shit! Fuck, I’m sorry!”

The cord is forgotten. Shawn pushes himself up over her and cups her jaw, nudging his lips over the bridge of her nose. He pulls back after a few seconds to inspect her.

Lilly swats at him. “Fuck. God, you’re like Megamind only… less blue. I think my tongue is bleeding.”

She sticks her tongue out and lifts her eyebrows. “Ih ih ee-ing?”

Shawn looks closer. “Nope.” He cradles her face in both hands and kisses her soundly, sliding his tongue against hers, pressing a warm sigh out of her sleepy morning body.

“There, all better,” he determines, folding himself down beside her.

“That’s as close to vampirism as I ever hope to get with you,” Lilly grumbles, reaching for her phone. She allows his apology kisses as she scrolls through Twitter and brushes her toes against his calf.

Her shoulders drop. She exhales and puts the phone down. The sheet comes up over her head. Shawn follows curiously.

“What?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Lover Fest is cancelled.”

Shawn makes a murmur of acknowledgement and tucks his arm around her, pulling the covers higher over both of them. The morning light is diffused through the clean white sheet.

“You kinda knew it would be, though,” he points out, sounding dejected for her.

Lilly’s face crumples into a pout. “I mean, yeah, but I just think it sucks that the universe has chosen to keep me from Taylor. My spiritual big sister. My celestial homegirl. Fate keeps us apart and its cruelty is weighing on me.”

Lilly feels safe enough to get melodramatic in front of Shawn for several reasons, not the least of which is that he, too, can pitch an impressive fit when he wants to. He also chooses not to judge her for complaining about a cancelled concert when millions of people around the world are sick and dying, of which she’s well aware. The guilt hits her secondarily, a privilege in and of itself.

“I’m so gross. I have no right to be upset about this right now.”

Shawn lifts some coppery strands out of her face and tucks them behind her ear. “You’re allowed to care about both.”

Lilly remains grouchy and unconvinced.

“Plus, the universe can’t keep you from Taylor forever, since we’re friends.”

Lilly keeps her eyes down and sucks at her front teeth. Shawn nudges her.

“What?”

Lilly’s expression doesn’t change, save for her eyebrows lifting. Her eyes remain unfocused on her legs. Shawn noses at her temple. Her eyes shut.

“Lillian, what?”

Lilly squirms and lifts the sheet over their heads, letting the world back in. She slides out of his arms and out of the bed, crossing to the chair for her cozy shorts and a big shirt.

“... nothing. It’s nothing.”

She knows she’s not getting away with it, not even close. She doesn’t want to look at him to see just how much she’s not pulling this off.

“Baby, come on.”

Lilly takes a long moment to blink and turns to face him. He’s shirtless and flushed in their rumpled sheets. She tilts her head and sighs, drifting back to him. She gets a knee up on the bed and slides her fingers into his curls. They seem to hug around them like her hand belongs there. He’s staring up at her like a woodland creature.

“Nothing. We should stop fucking and go call our moms before they realize that we’re total heathens.”

Shawn swallows uneasily but seems ready to drop it, for now. He takes her wrist to his lips and chuckles.

“My mum already knows.”

“About you, maybe, not about me.”

Shawn smirks and releases her, watching Lilly trail off in search of a cozy phone spot.

“Tell your mom happy mother’s day from me,” he calls.

Lilly looks back at him as she pads down the hall. “And tell yours from me.”

+

Lilly watches, entranced, as each pat of butter melts seamlessly into the silky pot of mashed potatoes. She’s not thinking, she’s not measuring, just feeling. Butter. Butter. More butter. She adds a whole stick before she realizes what she’s doing. Her gaze darts over her shoulder. Shawn is facing away from her at the other countertop, muttering to himself as he pulls out ingredients for Yorkshire puddings. She mashes her lips together and turns back, whisking hard to incorporate all her sins.

Cooking has become nearly as meditative as yoga recently. After spending their first few weeks together abusing their bodies in different ways, cooking feels like healing now. The grill took them a few attempts to master, and they side-stepped some potentially life threatening disasters to do it, but now they char slabs of eggplant and zucchini and ears of corn wrapped in tinfoil. They roast potatoes in the oven with fresh herbs and olive oil. Cooking brings them together at the end of the day and gives them a way to take care of each other and themselves.

Mother’s Day presented the perfect opportunity to expand their repertoires and distract themselves from missing their families. The Sunday roast was Lilly’s idea -- whole roast chicken with thyme butter, creamy mashed potatoes, roasted root veggies and Yorkshire puddings with gravy. Mother’s Day Sunday roast is a Mendes family tradition, one Shawn hasn’t been around for in a few years. He had hoped to be home for this one. Lilly decides to bring some home to him.

His arm is hard and warm, wriggling between the stove and her waist as he winds it around her. His other hand presents her with a glass of white. She accepts the kiss on the side of her neck and pretends to stir to look busy.

“Oh, hi,” she murmurs into the wide-bowled glass.

“Oh, hi,” he chuckles, giving her a squeeze, “I saw the butter.”

Lilly huffs. “Goddamnit.” She can’t shake her stupid smile though. He was watching her when she wasn’t watching him.

“Gonna kill us both,” he purrs into her skin, like he doesn’t mind one bit.

“My plan all along.”

Shawn hums in response and backs off, to Lilly’s chagrin.

“Batter’s ready, chef.”

Lilly turns the range down low to keep the potatoes warm. She turns and waves him over, gloving her hand with an oven mitt to get the hot muffin tin from the pre-heated oven. She holds it as Shawn pours batter into each cup.

“The trick my mom taught me is not to open the oven door once they’re in there,” Shawn reports with a nod, watching as Lilly closes the door and sets a timer. Lilly glances at him suspiciously.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, kid, who do you think you’re talking to?”

Shawn raises his eyebrows, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “An American.”

Lilly’s eyes bulge and her jaw drops. She swats him across the chest with her mitt, but lets him cradle her up against him anyway.

“You take that back!” she squeaks.

“I know, I’m sorry, I know you hate being reminded.”

Lilly and Shawn sit on the floor and watch the little popovers rise. They don’t open the oven door even once until the timer goes off.

Lilly puts on John Mayer again over the house speakers. They’re eating in the actual dining room today to be fancy, figuring their setting should match their food.

“He’s been soothing my achy soul lately,” Lilly sighs, dropping into her seat, immediately crossing her legs so her foot brushes up against him. Shawn nods absently but his eyes narrow a little at his potatoes. Lilly’s grin takes up half her face.

“You’re jealous!”

Shawn completes the eye roll his face was begging him for. He finishes chewing and sits back to glare at her. “Of course I’m jealous. Why is my music not enough for your achy soul? Why do you need Mayer?”

The teasing lilt in Shawn’s voice just makes Lilly laugh harder. “You love him even more than I do.”

“I do,” he sighs, “Maybe we could FaceTime with him soon and he can soothe you directly.”

Lilly feels herself going magenta. Shawn doesn’t toss around his celebrity weight, or even work his friend connections very often, but when he does, he does it with purpose. Lilly attempts to stay cool. Ish.

“I would not say no to that,” she attempts lightly, but her face-splitting smile gives her away. Shawn grins knowingly and bobs his head.

“I’ll text him. Maybe I can talk to Taylor, too, get you your own personal Lover Fest.”

Lilly’s smile falters a little. Her gaze drifts to her plate. She shoves a forkful of potatoes in her mouth. Shawn notices a shift.

“What?” His mouth is full.

Lilly swallows and lifts a shoulder casually. “I just didn’t figure you were really in a place to be asking Taylor for favors anymore.”

The song changes to a track Lilly doesn’t know. The air seems to crackle. Shawn sits forward as Lilly sits back. She manages to lift her eyes from her crispy chicken skin.

“What do you mean?”

Regret fills Lilly’s gut faster than the food. She takes a long sip of wine.

“I mean after what happened last year.”

He didn’t really need her to clarify, she knows. She also knows he doesn’t require further detail.

He comes up on his elbows, his brow furrowing. “I can probably guess what you think happened, but it’s more complicated than that.”

Lilly exhales and drops her fork, crossing her arms. Shawn looks alarmed.

“I have no doubt you can guess what I think, because you know me pretty well. And you probably also know I think it’s bullshit.”

Shawn’s eyes harden. “Lilly, you don’t know everything. You weren’t there. I don’t owe you an explanation for this, you weren’t involved.”

Lilly’s lips tighten at the corners, the kiss of death. Shawn’s shoulders tighten further, pulling up toward his ears.

“Yeah, I’m sure you think you don’t. Maybe that’s exactly what’s wrong,” Lilly jabs.

Shawn looks baffled. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one who’s always telling me I don’t owe everyone everything. But now suddenly I owe people every detail? It had nothing to do with me.”

“You thinking it had nothing to do with you is a huge fucking problem, Shawn! It is a privilege! No one has threatened everything you’ve built. Why would they? You’re a white man. And you sat down and shut up when she needed you.”

The muscle in Shawn’s jaw twitches. “You don’t know shit about what I did, you weren’t fucking there. Stop pretending like you know everything. It’s fucking complicated, okay? Jesus, Lilly.”

Lilly deflates and folds her hands, pressing her forehead into them. “Let’s not do this. Let’s just not fucking do this, this was supposed to be nice. Can we not? I don’t want to fight.”

She looks up at him, pleading.

Shawn doesn’t hesitate. “I want to fight.”

Lilly blinks. “What?”

He nods urgently. “I do. I want to fight. Let’s fight, let’s figure it out and get through it. Let’s fucking fight, Lill, because it’s so much better than being fucking silent.”

Lilly swallows. Her stomach lurches. Shawn does not waver.

“Fine. Tell me, then. Tell me what you did. You texted her?”

Shawn scoffs. “I didn’t just fucking text her, I called her. We talked for like an hour. And if she were here, she’d tell you that and she’d say we’re totally fine, we’re good. Because we are.”

Lilly pushes a hand into her hair and feels the tears in her eyes. “No you’re not. You’re not fine. You showed up and did the bare minimum, Shawn, you’re not fucking fine.”

His eyes get huge. “What the fuck, Lilly? You don’t even know her!”

“I don’t have to!” she cries, throwing her arms up, “I don’t have to know her personally to know how many texts and calls she got from guys like you who felt bad but wanted to stay out of the way, stay in their lane, stay out of trouble. When you look at the ratio of women who spoke up compared to men, it’s fucking sad, Shawn. And honestly, I did not expect you to land on the wrong side of that, I really didn’t. But that was just the start.”

He narrows his eyes. “The start of what?”

“You shut down. You just… shut down. You got the girl and then fucked off. You have to know that’s what it looked like to everyone.”

“I fucked off because literally everyone was telling me to. Lilly, I swear to god, if you saw the kind of stuff people were saying to me, about me, about her…”

Lilly feels a chill down her spine. She’s desperate to crawl away from this.

“Shawn--”

“Everyone hated me. Everyone hated us. What was I supposed to do?”

Lilly chews on her lip and mutters, “Maybe not post that gross make out video, for one thing.”

He inhales so sharply Lilly looks up at him. His nostrils are flared. Did he get taller in the last two minutes?

“It was a fucking joke, Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, well, you were the only two who thought it was funny.”

Shawn takes a breath and scrubs his hands over his face, then back into his hair, holding it back as he stares down at his food.

“I know the video was stupid. It wasn’t supposed to make people so mad.”

Lilly shifts in her seat uncomfortably. She takes his olive branch and returns with one of her own.

“Listen, I’m not gonna sit here and defend your entire fandom. I know better. I know a lot of the shit you guys took was unfair. But the distance came from both sides, Shawn. You alienated them, they alienated you right back. It doesn’t matter who shot first. That distance is still there.”

Shawn doesn’t argue her point. He draws a crispy corner of Yorkshire pudding through his gravy and pops it in his mouth. “I really thought the Foundation would turn it around, but it only made it worse.”

Lilly winces. “But you get why, right?”

Shawn clicks his tongue. “No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“It’s hollow, Shawn. It didn’t feel like you. Your heart wasn’t in it. It was like someone put your name on it and said ‘okay, guys, tell us what you want this to be.’ I mean, what is it? What do you want it to be?”

Shawn looks hurt. Lilly wonders if she should’ve pulled back a little, then thinks about what he said earlier.

I want to fight.

Lilly realizes maybe she wants to fight too. If fighting means fighting for this, for them, Lilly will get her gloves on and go to work. She steels herself.

“The whole point was to give a voice to my fans, to be the way they can make a difference. Have them act through me. That’s what I liked about it!”

Lilly shuts her eyes. “But it wasn’t your idea.”

She knew that already without him having to say it. The circumstances made that clear.

“Andrew pitched it, but I approved it,” Shawn snaps.

“Then do something with it!” Lilly cries, “Show some ownership! Show everyone you care what it means, what it does. You’ve always been so good at that. It’s one of the reasons people love you so much. Why people were hurt when you disappeared. Suddenly you were either nowhere, or you were with her. People missed you. I fucking know I did.”

Shawn’s shoulders begin to sink. The tense feeling clenching around Lilly’s ribcage loosens. Shawn reaches a hand out, face up on the table. Lilly slips hers into his and watches his thumb rub her skin.

“I didn’t know you were still paying attention,” he whispers.

Lilly lets the past several months drift over her face. “I tried not to.”

What’s left of their food is cold. Mayer’s voice feels loud in the absence of their yelling. They gaze at each other, looking and feeling haunted. Shawn is first to break the silence.

“I don’t want it to be like this. I… I don’t think I want to tell everyone everything all the time, but I don’t want it like this either. I can’t be afraid to talk to my fans.”

Lilly nods. “There’s a middle ground. You can find it.”

Shawn studies the veins in the translucent skin of her wrist. “Will you help me?”

Lilly smirks. “When you want me to, sure. But you don’t need me for that, Shawn.”

He’s silent for a long time. Lilly watches the tears gather in his eyes as they soften.

“But I do need you. I fuckin’ need you, Lill, you know that right?”

Lilly nods eagerly. “I know.”

He doesn’t seem satisfied. “No, I mean, of course I need you, but I want you. I want you so bad, all the time, every day. In every way I can have you. You make everything in my life better. And I swear to god, if you let me, I’ll make sure I can do the same for you.”

Lilly squeezes his hand. Her heart swims up into her throat and pushes out the words she hasn’t said in almost a year. “I love you.”

Shawn illuminates from the inside out. His cheeks go a vivid pink. He squeezes her hand right back and pulls it up to his lips. “I love you too, Lilly.”

Lilly cups his cheek. Her smile is small and quiet, but it’s not fragile.

The song changes. The opening notes are so distinctive, they have Shawn and Lilly smiling knowingly in under three seconds.

“See?” Lilly squawks, “John just gets me.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and pushes his chair back, holding his hand out to her. “Whatever. John may ‘get you,’ but I have you. C’mere.”

Lilly gasps, eyes sparkling. She looks to his face, then his outstretched hand, then back at his face. She’s vibrating in her seat.

“No!”

“Yes!” Shawn laughs. Lilly springs out of her chair and takes his offer before he can reel it back in. He holds their clasped hands to his chest and grins as she takes her place between his bare feet. They bob along awkwardly beside the table, cast in powder blue dusk from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Fucking finally, it’s like, why even bother putting John Mayer on if no one’s gonna ask you to dance?” Lilly crows, looking smug.

Shawn pecks the tip of her nose and pulls her closer. She rests her cheek on his chest.

“Now we see everything that’s going wrong

With the world and those who lead it

We just feel like we don’t have the means

To rise above and beat it…”

Shawn sings along and Lilly doesn’t even pretend like that wasn’t exactly what she wanted. She stares up at him, delighted by his total willingness to satisfy even the little whims she doesn’t say out loud. They don’t notice when the song changes. Lilly magnanimously decides not to step on Shawn’s foot when he says that her body, too, is a wonderland.

But she does prove it to him again later that night.

+

Epilogue

July 28th, 2020

Lilly squints up at the sky. It’s so blue that her retinas ache, but she finds what she needs.

“Look! Look, a cloud. Not safe to fly. You should stay. Come on, chop chop, bags down. You’re staying.”

Shawn drops his backpack into the trunk of the town car. His eyes are hidden behind mirrored aviators, but Lilly doesn’t need to see them to know his smile doesn’t quite reach them.

“I’m going to remind you again this was your idea,” he sighs.

Lilly scrunches her face up in protest but it doesn’t push away the tears building in her eyes like she hoped.

He’s right. It’s been almost a month since they had the first conversation about it. It wasn’t nearly as scary when it was hypothetical. It started with an innocent comment, Lilly joking about Shawn not having anything to write about if they’re together and happy all the time. 

“You need some angst. How are you ever gonna miss me enough to write about me if we’re standing on top of each other all day every day?”

Shawn brushed it off, but it took hold in both their minds. It was another full week before they had a real conversation about it. Lilly cried and Shawn stared in horror, then held her.

“We cannot become real again in a vacuum. I love you, I love this, but it’s not real life. I want you for real. I need this to be real,” Lilly pleaded.

Negotiations ran in circles for a while. Maybe they just needed a change of scenery, Shawn suggested. They could take a little safe vacation somewhere, rent a place in Malibu or Big Sur. Distance wasn’t the answer. It couldn’t be.

But distance is their reality when the world is not on fire. Lilly does not work in an industry that permits her to follow Shawn around on tour or promo. Even if she did, they agree that arrangement could get emotionally fraught pretty fast. Lilly argues they have to get good at the distance again, since that was one of the factors that broke them up to begin with. Shawn insists that if they’re lucky enough to be together and safe during this time of crisis, there’s no reason to give it up.

Back and forth, round and around and around again. There was no compromise to be made. They were either together or apart.

Shawn tearfully agrees one night. Lilly is immediately horrified.

“No. No, I’ve changed my mind. Don’t go. Shawn, don’t go. Don’t let me bully you into this. This is a terrible fucking plan. Why would you leave? Everything is good!” she sobs.

Shawn wipes his eyes and tucks her into his chest so she can cry without him staring at her.

“You were right, Lill. If we’re ever going to be more than this, we have to start. We have to get better at it.”

“But this is already so good! Shawn, if you leave now, we have no way of knowing when we’ll see each other again. Things are already getting worse. What if you can’t get back?”

Shawn’s jaw clenches. It’s the one thing they haven’t said out loud. This distance could be more permanent than they intend for it to be if the pandemic continues to worsen in the U.S. There’s a possibility that if he leaves now, they won’t see each other again in 2020.

“We’re gonna figure that out,” he insists, wiping his hard calloused thumbs beneath her eyes, “If I have to marry you to make you a Canadian citizen and get you the fuck out of here, I will.”

Lilly’s heart skips a beat even as her eyes narrow. “What a romantic you are.”

Shawn chuckles, but it’s a dull, wet sound through his own tears. He arranges his pre-flight COVID test and buys a ticket home to Toronto the next day.

Without Shawn, and with her roommates calming down and staying virus free, there’s no reason to stay in this big house by herself. They take down the recording tent and send the equipment back. They carefully pry Command hooks off the ceiling, erasing the evidence. They latch up the doors on the balcony for good. Lilly’s car is packed; she’ll head back to Burbank right after Shawn leaves.

The summer breeze ruffles his curls, which she cut again recently so he doesn’t look like a sad sheepdog when he goes home to his mum, after the allotted two weeks of quarantining at his place in Toronto. He reaches for her, and her throat immediately burns, like it was holding off until he touched her again.

“I have terrible ideas. Don’t ever listen to me again,” Lilly half sobs. Shawn folds himself around her. She clings to him, digging her fingernails into the seams of his denim shirt. She feels his shaky exhale and feels ten times worse.

“What did I do?” she hiccups, “Why did I do this?”

Shawn lays his cheek on top of her head and sniffs before he speaks. “Because you want us to be real. Because you know it’s going to be different this time.”

Lilly breathes out slowly. Shawn loosens his grip and shifts to take her face in his hands. His cheeks are patchy pink, his eyes are a little bloodshot. He presses kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and her lips. They kiss until they’re dizzy.

Shawn lets go, maybe because he knows she won’t. He reaches for the door of the car to anchor himself.

“You know how much I love you, right?” Lilly rasps.

Shawn nods. “I know. You know how much I love you, right?”

Lilly’s face crumples. She can’t speak. She nods.

Shawn smiles. “Then we’re gonna be okay.”

Lilly covers her nose and mouth as he climbs into the back of the town car. She stands there until it’s beyond the gates of the driveway and out of sight.

Lilly turns and looks up at the house. It’s not the first time she’s considered the mysterious magic of the place. In its age and grandness, Lilly knows hers is not the only gift it’s given. Theirs are not the only secrets it holds. She’s resigned to never knowing the rest, content with taking what it offered and hoping they left it with some of their own magic, too, for whomever needs it next.

----------

Taglist: @smallerinfinities​ @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn​ @infiniteshawn​ @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway​ @alone-in-madness​ @abigfatmess​ @shawnitsmutual​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @september-lace​ @sinplisticshawn​ @rollingxstone​ @randi-eve​ @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire​ @itrocksmysocks​ @parkerspicedlatte​ @simpledomain​ @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day​ @thecurlsofgod​ @magcon7280​ @bensbuttercup​ @shawnsmusical​ @paigeasourous​ @tell-me-when-ur-ready​ @softmendesss​ @searchingunderthestars​ @buggy-blogs​ @mendesficsxbombay​ @siennarossi​ @lostinshawnsmemory​ @umbreakablesoul​ @sleepybesson​ @shawnsheaven @poseshawn​ @shaawnie @shawn-youth​ @graysonmendes​

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Of a Feather

Of a Feather Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: Huwumi Summary: Hibari likes a lot of things about her family. She likes her brothers most of the time. She likes that her Mommy is always nice, even when Hibari does something naughty like drawing on the walls. She likes that her Daddy holds her whenever she wants him to. She likes that her Grampa looks all grouchy but still plays with her. But she doesn’t like what Grampa said about her wings.

Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

“Are you sure you can handle this, Dad?” She scuffled her little feet beside her Mommy, looking between her and Grampa Jiji curiously. There was a quiet clattering behind them, down at the other end of the hallway, followed by a loud crash. Mommy winced as she peered over her shoulder, then looked forward again. “The twins have been extra energetic today. Especially when it comes to their Quirks.”

“I can handle a few unruly children, Fuyumi. I dealt with all three of your brothers, as well as your husband,” Grampa Jiji snorted and rolled his eyes, a brief flicker of flame appearing along his moustache. She giggled when she saw it. He glanced at her briefly, his eyes seeming a bit softer, before another crash could be heard and he scowled in the direction. “Would you like me to go round them up before you go?”

“No, they’ll come if I call,” Mommy said with a small sigh and shake of her head. She turned fully and settled her hands on her hips. That was her Mommy is Serious pose. “Boys, come down here please!”

“We didn’t break nothin!” One voice, which she knew was Kaito-Nii, called back down.

“Well, nothin important, anyway,” Reo-Nii added. A second later two heads peered around the corner, one a mop of unruly gold and the other of red, two sets of bright golden eyes taking in the view below. Reo-Nii flashed a huge grin of delight. “Grampa Jiji’s here!”

Mommy giggled and nodded as they came darting down the hallway to give proper greetings. “Yes, Grampa Jiji is going to be watching you two and Hibari while Isamu and I are out,” she said.

Kaito-Nii perked up at that and frowned, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes. “Where are you going?”

“Out to run a few errands,”

“Why does Isamu get to go?” Reo-Nii protested.

“Yeah, that’s not fair!” Kaito-Nii agreed.

“Isamu’s responsible for classroom snacks on Monday when he goes to school and decided he wants to make something from scratch. He needs to be there to help me pick it all out when I get to the store,” Mommy said, reaching down to ruffle the mop of white burrowed against her leg. There was a shift and Isamu-Nii poked to peer at their older brothers worriedly. He ducked back against Mommy after a second, though, since the older boys were glaring.

Hibari understood why they were upset because she’d been upset, too. She’d had a bit of a fit when she was told she wouldn’t be going. But that didn’t mean they should be mean to Isamu-Nii. “Isamu-Nii gets to go to the store, but we get to play with Grampa Jiji instead!” she chirped up.

The two looked at each other before looking back over at their grandfather. “I guess,” Kaito mumbled sullenly.

“That could be fun. Maybe,” Reo agreed quietly.

Mommy smiled at her before turning back to the boys. “Plus, if you all can behave while we’re gone, I’ll bring you each a little treat home,” she offered. Both of them brightened immediately at that promise. She giggled and reached out to ruffle both their hair, before turning to press a quick peck to her daughter’s forehead. “Now you three behave for your grandfather and play nice with each other.”

“Yes, Mommy,” they all chimed together.

She smiled again before looking up at Grampa. “Keigo’s only working a half day today, so he’ll probably be back before we will. I think he said he’d be home around noon. Isamu and I can grab lunch while we’re out, but I’ll let him know to pick up something for you all on his way home,” she explained. Hibari’s eye lit up at the mention of her Daddy, glancing over at the clock excitedly. She was still learning her numbers, but Mommy said she was very smart and learning fast! She tilted her head at the clock on the wall, watching the really skinny line move around the two bigger ones, before tugging at the sleeve of her Mommy’s shirt.

“Mommy, what time is it now?” she asked, pointing at the clock.

“It’s a quarter until ten,” she said, gently taking her daughter’s hand and guiding it. “You see the lines on the clock? Those are called hands.”

“Clocks have hands, too?”

Mommy giggled again and nodded before moving Hibari’s arm as she explained, “See the really long but wide hand? That’s called the hour hand. And the shorter one is called the minute hand. The really teeny one is the second hand. Daddy will be home around the time the two bigger hands are both pointed at the tippy top of the clock.”

“That’s a twelve!” she squeaked excitedly, looking between where her finger was pointed to Mommy.

“That’s right, sweetie! You’re getting so good at recognizing numbers!” she praised, leaning forward to pepper a few kisses to her cheek. Hibari giggled and squirmed happily, vaguely aware of her wings fluttering behind her.

Grampa Jiji hummed quietly. “They’ve already had breakfast, right? Or should I be anticipating feeding them between now and when Hawks returns?” he prompted.

“Oh, yes,” Mommy agreed as she pulled away and stood upright again. She cast another grin at the three of them before reaching down to take Isamu’s hand. “They’ve all been up since around eight, so they ate then. If they get a little peckish, though, there’s some fruits and things in the fridge. And, obviously, help yourself to anything you’d like, Dad.”

With one final wave, Mommy and Isamu-Nii were on their way out.

Hibari was fast to scamper to her room and get her little beauty salon goods to play with. The minute she presented it, Kaito and Reo were racing back upstairs, which she thought was mean. She didn’t always like playing the games they wanted to play, but she still did. Grampa Jiji led her out to the living room, though, and sat mostly still while she combed his hair into little ponytails. He let out little grumbles sometimes like he wasn’t having fun. Daddy never did that when they played beauty salon together.

Once she’d done a good job of making him look pretty, Grampa got out her crayons and coloring pages for her. She settled in at the table with them while he put on some boring grown up show. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it didn’t seem very fun. Less fun than using her glitter crayons, anyway. She liked them the best. They were shiny and Uncle Natsuo had bought them just for her so that made them super special! Mommy said to always take good care of presents.

A flicker of red on the screen tore her away from scribbling in the hair of her mermaid and she started grinning. “Oh! It’s Daddy!” she said excitedly, leaning on the table to see the screen better. She giggled and swayed with his movements, watching as he dodged and ducked and flew around the bad guy he was facing. She tried to make her own wings imitate some of what he did, but it was hard. She had to think really, really hard about it and sometimes it made her head hurt!

“Still so small,” Grandpa Jiji said suddenly, causing her to look over at him. He had one elbow on the arm of the couch and his head rested in his hand. He was staring right at her wings as they shifted about.

“Huh? What’cha mean?” she asked, peering over her shoulder to look at them. 

“Your brother’s were at least twice that size when he was your age,” he said, pushing himself off the couch to settle in front of her. He reached out and lightly poked at her left wing. It wasn't very painful but her wing still shrunk back and she let out a little yelp, just the slightest twinge of discomfort present. Like when Kaito or Reo tickled her too hard. “Isamu’s wings were much less sensitive, too. How much control do you have over them? Can you get any kind of distance off the ground?”

She frowned and squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to get them to flap big and hard like she’d seen Daddy do before. She felt a little bit of wind from the action but they just fluttered a little harder than usual. She puffed her cheeks out as she stared back at them. She had been trying really hard that time too! "I didn't," she pouted.

"Hmm. That's rather disappointing. It seems it took most of your concentration to even flap them," Jiji commented.

She nodded meekly. "Daddy says it's cause my wings were all bunched up for so long," she mumbled. It wasn't very often they talked about Quirks in the house, since it seemed to make Mommy kinda sad and Uncle Natsuo and Uncle Shoto would get kinda angry. She didn't remember herself, but Daddy had told her that when she was just a baby, her wings didn't come out right and doctors had to a peration to get them out.

"Perhaps your wings are just more for show than actual flight like your father and brother," he commented, cupping his chin as he titled his head to try and get a better look at them.

She opened her mouth to yell at him that her wings could fly, too, before a loud crash was heard from down the hall. There was a brief flash of red as Reo tore into the kitchen. "Crap! Crap! Cra-ha-ha-ha-hap!" he wailed over the sound of the kitchen tap switching on.

"What have you two done now?" Grampa asked gruffly as he pushed himself up.

"Don't worry, Gramps, it's just a small fire! Mom and Dad won't even know it happened!"

"You did what?"

"Reo, hurry up! It's getting bigger!"

"What did the two of you do?"

"Dude, you told Gramps? What the heck?"

"I didn't say nothin'! He saw me getting the water, dumbie!"

She didn't wait around to see what her brothers had set on fire. They did stuff like that all the time. Instead she headed out into the backyard by herself, kicking at the dirt. She could so fly! She just couldn't do it yet! That didn't mean she wouldn't ever be able to do it!

… Right?

She whimpered and squatted down, drawing in the dirt with her finger. Mommy and Daddy never really talked about her wings, but they didn't talk about Isamu-Nii's either. So, that meant that nothing was wrong with her and her wings, right? Or did it mean they didn't talk about it because they didn't want her to know she couldn't fly? She stood up and shook her head frantically, whipping around to glare at the patio. "No! I can too fly!" she shouted, stomping her foot and clenching her fists. She just needed to find out a way to make herself fly!

And then she glanced over at the roof. Maybe if she got up there, she could jump off and fly from there! She grinned widely as she darted back inside. She rushed past the chaos happening in the bathroom and made a beeline for the second floor. She headed to the spare room in the far back, opened the window, and carefully climbed out. The storm drain was next to that window which made climbing easier for her. It was a little scary but once she was up on the roof and stood up, she couldn't help but smile wide. She walked over to the edge of the roof and peered over.

From up there, she could see so much! Her wings twitched and shifted as a hard gust of air rushed past her, ruffling the feathers and causing her to grin wider. Something about that felt so good! Like when Mommy bundled her up in a towel after a bath! It was a really windy day, too, so even if she couldn't fly by flapping, she could maybe sorta fly using the wind in her feathers! She scrambled towards the edge of the roof carefully, not wanting to slip off the slanted surface before she was ready. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, tried to spread her wings out as far as she could, then leapt.

And nothing happened.

"You know," a voice said, causing her eyes to snap open to meet with familiar gold ones, "I'm a little curious what you're trying to do here, sparrow."

"Daddy!" she chirped, wiggling slightly and looking around. He was hovering just beneath her while a few of her red feathers were curled around her belly to keep her propped up in the air. She let her whole body sag, sadness rushing through her. She had really thought that would work! "Daddy, I was gonna fly!"

"Fly?" he repeated, holding out his arms to her. She reached out immediately to take his hand. His feather slipped away and she slumped into his chest, his arms moving to curl around her tight, and she burrowed into him.

Her head snapped back up when she heard his heartbeat. "Your heart's beating really, really fast!"

He chuckled while gently adjusting his hold on her and tucking her head under his chin. "I wonder why that is," he mumbled under his breath. She let out a small huff and snuggled back into him, her hands curling into little fists around his t-shirt. "So, how did you wind up on the roof? And why?"

"Grampa Jiji said I can't fly!" she whined as Daddy carefully maneuvered them to the ground. "He said my wings are too tiny! But I can! I know I can!" she insisted, lower lip trembling. She pushed her face into her Daddy again. She didn't want to cry but she just felt so sad!

"Oh, my little sparrow," he cooed softly. He held her as she cried for a bit, gently rocking her and kissing her head. After a little while, he shifted and forced her to lift her head, wiping her tears away with his thumb. "Hibari, sweetheart, you can't fly yet, but you will."

She hiccupped a little. "B-But Grampa said that Isamu-Nii's were bigger when he was my age! That he could fly with them!"

"Well, that's your brother and you're you," he said, walking towards the back door. He opened the door and set her at her usual spot, kneeling so that they could see each other still and taking her hands in his. "Your wings will grow with time. Your wings are different from Isamu's and they're even different from mine. It's okay that your wings are still growing."

"But Grampa said-!" she started but he gently bopped his forehead against hers.

"Does Grampa have wings?"

"No,"

"Does Daddy have wings?"

"Yeah,"

"And has Daddy ever lied to you before?"

"Never!" she gasped.

"So if Daddy says that you'll be able to fly, you'll be able to fly," he said, giving her hands a little squeeze. "Okay?" She hummed her agreement and he moved to stand up again, pressing another quick peck to her forehead. "That's my girl. Now where is my most favoritest retired Pro at? I have some words for him while we eat."

"Kaito-Nii and Reo-Nii set the potty on the fire," she said, pointing at the hallway where a muffled ruckus could still be heard. Daddy looked down the hall before laughing.

"Is that the first incident today?"

"Yeah huh!"

He let out a long whistle at that. "Now that's impressive! They must have really wanted something,"

"Mommy said she'd bring us goodies if we behaved," she said before scrambling over to his side and taking his hand. "I dunno what they were doing cause I was giving Grampa a makeover!"

He smiled at her. "Well, I'd love to see what you did. Maybe you managed to save Jiji's pouty old face," he whispered with a wink, which made her giggle. She liked when her Daddy said silly things like that. Like later that afternoon, after Mommy got home and Hibari was munching on some cookies, when he asked Jiji, "So why were you trapped in the bathroom with the twins while our four year old was on the roof?"

The faces Mommy and Grampa Jiji made were really silly!

[forestwater87]

Your library info is incredibly cool and helpful but I have a bit of a specific question. I kinda did badly in college and continue to do badly (less than 3.0 gpa) and have been completing it very slowly. I failed a few classes due to not doing the work while unmedicated. But archival work is one of the few things I can see myself loving to do. Do I have a chance for grad school, or even getting into it?

I’m sorry you’ve had that experience! That really stinks, and I’m impressed that you’re still working so hard to get past that with everything you’ve gone through. It says a lot about your character and work ethic (which can work to your advantage; see #1 below). 

I have to admit, I’m not positive how helpful I can be; I’m very bad at most things, but my one talent seems to be getting good grades, so I don’t have personal experience with maneuvering academic struggles. I’m also not an admissions rep, though I do work in a (community) college so maybe I’m a little more familiar than the average joe? And I did work for our grad school’s library/archives department, though I wasn’t exactly privy to their acceptance decisions because I was a glorified secretary, but . . . well, who knows? Take all of this with a grain of salt, because I’m a big dum-dum, but maybe something here will be helpful. 

Or maybe someone super smart will rb this with a ton of useful info. That’s the dream!

Also, a lot of this is coming from a Princeton Review article about literally this topic, if you want a less personal and meandering version of the below tips.

TL;DR Forest’s Non-Expert Recommendations for Grad School Without the Best GPA:

Acknowledge it in your communications with the school, and maybe even your application. They’re going to see those grades anyway, so it’s not like more context is a bad thing.

Take more classes, especially ones related to archives and records administration, and nail those.

Kick the GRE’s ass and give a really good application overall.

Experience! Related experience!!! 

Get to know the school you’re interested in -- and make sure they know you.

1. I’ll admit, based on a quick glance through some of the archival programs in the U.S., it does look like a 3.0 GPA is just about the baseline for admittance, which isn’t the best news. (Unless you manage to get a 3.0 by the time you graduate, in which case you’re pretty much good for most schools.) My suggestion there would be, whether or not you can bump your grades up with current and future classes, sharing some info -- to your level of comfort -- about your situation in your cover letter/application: acknowledge the grades issue, explain the reason, and illustrate how you’ve improved since then. Even if your final GPA isn’t all that high, it’ll prime the admissions folks to look at it with the understanding that you had a handicap. Your grades are a story over time, and I imagine if you can show improvement and draw their attention to that via a cover/recommendation letter(s), that could be really useful.

2. Obviously, the easiest answer -- to say, not to do! -- is just “get your grades up.” Which is . . . not terribly helpful. The good news there is that the more classes you ace the better your average will be, so if you can afford (literally, in time, money, or spoons) to take some extra courses, you can drag that score up. Especially if you focus on courses related to archives -- English, History, Political Science, Public Administration, Computer Science, Data Analysis, etc. -- and blast those to smithereens, it looks like it won’t necessarily matter as much if you didn’t nail, say, calculus or physics. 

3. That above linked post is . . . well, yes, it’s from Reddit, but it does seem pretty good overall. Another recommendation it mentions is to do really well on the GRE; I talked a little bit about the GRE in my last post, and you can get tons of practice tests and other study material on their site; when I took the test back in 2015, you got the study material for free when you signed up to take the exam, but I’m not sure what the situation is there nowadays. That test is a big bucket of not-fun, but I can almost guarantee any program you look at will want it. In addition to being required in most programs, a really impressive score can encourage admissions folks to overlook your grades. (Note: this is basically true for any part of your application. If your resume, cover letter, recommendations, test scores, etc. are particularly banging, it can overcome deficiencies in other areas.)

4. Girl (or boy, or both, or none of the above), if you can volunteer, intern, or work somewhere relevant, not only do have an awesome potential reference in your supervisor/coworkers, but it looks REALLY GOOD on an application. Obviously now’s not a great time for this, considering the whole pandemic thing, but as stuff starts to open take a look at museums, historical societies, and libraries in your area. See if anyone needs help. The more experience you have, the more you’ll have to talk about in your cover letter, the more you’ll have to make your resume stand out, and the more you’ll be prepared for the actual program and life beyond. I cannot recommend getting some volunteer experience (or paid work, if you can swing it) highly enough.

5. Like most of what’s available, this is a bit dependent on your spoons, time, and maybe even money, but the sooner you can develop a relationship with the folks in the archives school/department you’re interested in, the better. Email them with literally this question; they’ll have a much more informed and specific-to-their-program answer for you, and might have some good advice. Schedule a tour (again, prioritizing your safety and those around you). Ask for an interview with the department head or a faculty member. Call with your questions. Ask about classes you might be able to take outside of the actual program to improve your chances of acceptance. We had students in our program who took a certain number of credits as a non-degree student, and then transferred into the program on the strength of those earlier classes; they were usually people whose grades or test scores weren’t up to snuff, so they could get a start while preparing to apply to the degree program. And in general, if the people deciding whether or not you get to go to school there know your name, your face, and your story, your application is going to get a lot more -- and more generous -- consideration than if they don’t know you from a hole in the ground. If nothing else, you’ll get a lot more useable information than I can possibly give you, and you’ll learn more about the program and the field to better make a game plan for your future.

I hope some of this is helpful! I wish I could say you don’t have a bit of an uphill battle because a pretty significant weight is put on GPA. It’s understandable to an extent -- they want to make sure you’ll be able to handle the courseload before you start -- but it poses an extra challenge for people who are already in difficult circumstances. Definitely make sure you talk to your advisor and the academic folks at your current school as well; there’s a chance that they’ll have some advice or even access to some resources you weren’t aware of that’ll make your current grade situation improve.

Good luck! It sounds like this could be a great path for you, and even if you have to take a bit of a roundabout way to get there, that additional experience and time will help you be more prepared for just about anything ANY grad school program or job could throw at you. I believe in you, and I’m here if you need to ask, chat, or vent.