#<- i keep thinking about HOW GOOD their dance teacher was like that woman is strict and yet her criticism is not toxic

[ohoshi]

le sserafim is literally the most well rounded group at the moment i am obsessed w them

[suguae]

Haunted

Toji cannot move on, until he realized too late.

Warnings: Angst, slightest fluff (reader and baby 'gumi moment)

You were just a girl, standing in front of a man, asking him to love you.

How hard was that for him? Yes, he wasn’t good with his words but he wasn’t good at anything else either. He was just there.

Maybe because the woman he truly loved—he was still mourning over her. His sad eyes every time he watched an old couple dance together, wishing he had been doing that but with her. The cute babies babble with their mothers as Megumi babbles with his father, how he wished his wife was still here instead of you. He never said it, but that’s what it felt like. 

And perhaps that's what it was. 

Sometimes he curses himself out when he accidentally calls you his wife's name. During intimate times only. You tried—trying to keep the emotions in as if it wasn’t breaking every part of you, was the hardest part. “Look he’s walking...” You smiled at the dark haired baby who was walking towards you. Toji smiled, making sure he’d record every second of it; deep down he wished his wife was the one the baby was walking towards instead of you.

And it was wrong—so wrong. 

“This relationship, I’m with you but Toji—Toji this is the loneliest I’ve ever felt.” You whispered while he ate his leftovers, his brows still furrowed from the argument occurring earlier. Having Toji work from 9–5 wasn’t the best but good thing he had you, helping him out with so much. Picking up groceries, picking up his lovely son—until you mentioned that one of his teachers mistaken you as his biological mother. That right there was enough to make Toji angry for weeks at least.

But not this time.

He stopped chewing on his food after you spoke, waiting for more of an explanation. Which you figured he needed, “I don’t think you’re in love with me–” 

“I like you [name], a lot.” He cleared his throat. He leaned back on his chair as his arms crossed waiting for you to continue the sentence he interrupted. 

Right, he liked you a lot. These three rough years you’ve been dating Toji—that particular l word was never uttered once, not even if he was drunk, or having a special moment with you. You huffed trying to find the right words for Toji to understand. That was until little Megumi started crying from his room. “I’ll try to put him back to sleep, finish eating.” He watched as your fragile little body sulked its way to Megumi’s room.

He knew this was gonna happen, he knew you were bound to leave him sooner or later. 

You smiled as you opened the door to see the little Megumi standing on top of his little bed. His hands wiping his tears as he ran towards you, his arms now wrapping around your legs. “Sleep with mama and papa.” He cried out as you leaned down to pick up the little boy. “[name] and papa, not mama okay?” You corrected him, if Toji were to find out that he had been calling you that, then that argument would’ve climaxed.

The little boy nodded, his tears now gone as you swayed him around. “Sleep with you.” He mumbled, leaning his head on your shoulder as he played with a strand of your hair. “Just for tonight.” You whispered, watching Megumi pick up his head and smile. Content with your answer. 

Toji’s heart could just swell at the sight. You treated his son as if he was your own and nothing looked so much better right now, except for the fact that he wished it was his wife.

Megumi was now soundly sleeping between you and Toji, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” His eyes shut tightly hearing those piercing words leave your mouth. It hurt when his wife left him, but this hurt was different—different because he knew it was coming yet he didn’t want to do anything about it. 

“I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to be the one apologizing.” He watched your soft gaze stare at completely nothing. He was confused, this was his fault. He never treated you how you needed deserved to be treated. “It was my fault for throwing myself at a man who simply was not ready.”

The next morning was silent—baby ‘gumi was confused at the saddened look on your face. Constantly walking up to you asking if you were okay. He was still just a baby, yet he read the room so well. “I’m sure we can work this out—” Toji now sitting next to you on the couch, some cartoon playing in the back as Megumi’s little head sat on your lap. “You’re not ready, Toji.” You nodded, eyes still glued on the tv as if it was meant for you and not the little Megumi. 

“And how are you so sure—”

“Tell me you love me then.” Your eyes are now fixed on Toji’s. It was hard, he felt as if his mouth had been glued shut. You sigh, bringing your gaze back to the tv, “I love you—but it’s hard when it’s one sided Toji.” 

It hurt much more, seeing you drive away as the clueless Megumi waved you out. Poor thing thinks you’re simply going to the store. The house that once felt like home was so dull now. Toji sat little ‘gumi down on the couch. 

His constant, “mama?” or “[name]?” while he kept his gaze on the door every so often. Nothing prepared Toji for this. Megumi cried that he wanted to sleep with his mama and papa, his heart swelled knowing that he had been talking about you.

You were gone, just like his wife. But it hurt—it hurt so much more knowing that you’re alive trying your best to…move on. He stayed up late that same night, stumbling upon a video from two years ago. When Megumi first learned how to walk. You and Toji had just started dating but the look of happiness plastered your face as you watched the little baby walking. 

That was one thing Toji never forgot about, how much you loved kids. Telling him how once you had kids of your own you would finally be able to live in peace. How he heard of it less and less as the years went on, he wonders if you still think that.

next part ->

[janeyseymour]

Personal and Professional- pt 3

Part 1. Part 2.

An anon asked for this! There's a backyard barbecue being held, and you're a bit hesitant because no one has seen you as the alternative woman that you are outside of school. They also don't know about you and Melissa.

WC: ~2.3k

Janine is organizing a backyard barbecue at Barbara’s house for the Abbott crew- and you are less than thrilled to be excited. It’s not that you don’t like your work crew, because that isn’t true; you’re dating one of them. It’s that you really would rather not have everyone commenting on your body and your… tasteful markings.

“C’mon, hun,” Melissa says softly as she lays with you that night. “I think it’ll be fun to let our hair down.”

“I really would rather not,” you sigh. “No one knows about my tattoos, and no one knows about us.”

“The tattoos aren’t a big deal- I think they’ll like to see that you aren’t as buttoned up as you like to play. And they don’t have to find out about us,” she smirks. “I can keep my eyes and my hands to myself when I want to- just like I do at school.”

“You came into my room today and ate me out during prep because you were too horny to focus on grading your kids’ last assignments,” you tell her.

“It takes two to tango,” she shrugs. “It was good though, wasn’t it?”

You push her off of you. “Shut up.”

“All I’m saying is, I can control myself if that’s what you’re worried about for this barbecue,” your girlfriend tells you.

So begrudgingly, you find yourself at this barbecue for the fourth of July. The redhead and you drive separately so as not to give anything away, and you arrive there far too quickly. When you pull up to the kindergarten teacher’s house, you’re impressed. You can smell the food cooking, you hear the music playing from the backyard, and you can hear your boisterous girlfriend already laughing it up with her work wife. You head into the fenced area after taking a deep breath.

“About damn time!” Melissa teases you as she winks from the pool. “I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show!”

She’s saying this to you playfully, but she really was worried you weren’t going to pull up to the party, especially since you’re arriving an hour later than her.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you chuckle nervously as you wrap your thin cardigan around your body subconsciously.

“Well what are you waiting for?” the redhead heckles you. “Grab a drink, and come on in!”

You know she absolutely loves to see you in your bathing suit, and she’s going to drool when she sees the tattoos that dance around your hips and ribcage. She won’t be able to contain herself.

“I’m actually good right now,” you chuckle. “But I’ll grab a drink. Mel, you want anything?”

“Just another beer,” she tells you.

Everyone else looks at you like you’re crazy for only asking the redhead. “Uh… anyone else?”

And that’s how you essentially become beer girl for the day. Finally, Barb has had enough.

“For the love of all things holy, Y/N,” she throws her arms in the air. “Let loose a little and show some skin! You have to dying in all those clothes!”

“I’m really okay,” you say softly as you wipe a bit of sweat from your brow.

“Sweetheart, if this is about body insecurities,” the kindergarten teacher tells you, although her words are a bit slurred at this point. “No one is going to care what you look like in a swimsuit.”

“I bet yo’ tasty ass looks a lot better in a bikini than it does in all your buttoned up outfits that match Barbara’s energy,” Ava comments.

“I’m not always buttoned up,” you roll your eyes. “I just like to maintain some sense of professionalism when I’m with coworkers.”

“You think we give a shit about professionalism?” your boss smirks. “I go out clubbin’ every weekend and see half the Abbott parents out too. Janine and Greg were out at a hookah bar and were grinding up on each other. I’ve seen Barb and Melissa get absolutely hammered at PECSA!”

“And I am known to have a few too many aperol spritzes from time to time!” Jacob cuts in.

“Come on, baby boo, show us what youse made of!” Ava goads you.

You take a deep breath before opening your eyes again. “You really wanna see what I look like outside of school?”

Melissa’s eyes widen and her brows creep up her face. You don’t shed any clothing, not yet- but you do open your bag and pull out your different jewelry. You expertly take out the clear stud in your nose to exchange it for a hoop. Your earrings are all put in. Even though it’s just a small change, you look like an entirely different person to them- all except Melissa, who loves seeing you like this. She licks her lips subconsciously.

“Damn!” Ava grins. “We got ourselves a hot little alt girl!”

You roll your eyes at that comment. “Give me a few minutes to go change, and I’ll come in the pool.”

The hostess gives you directions as to where the bathroom is, and you thank her before heading inside to change. You do before throwing your big ripped up band t-shirt overtop of your figure. If you’re going to stun them all, you might as well go all out. You tie your hair up into one of your messier buns before making sure that your ‘slut strands’ (because that’s apparently what the baby hairs that don’t make it into the bun are called) look as though they’re supposed to be there before heading back outside.

Your secret girlfriend’s eyes go wide as you make your way into the fenced in area. You swear you see the smallest droplet of drool escape her mouth as her eyes stay trained on you. 

“Happy?” you ask your work friends.

“We’d be happier if you took off the hot t-shirt,” the principal smirks as she sips her seltzer. 

With a roll of your eyes, you peel off the shirt, revealing all of the tattoos that you have.

“You have tattoos?” Janine is mesmerized.

You shrug as you slowly start to make your way into the pool. “Young Y/N mistakes.”

“They look amazing though! I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but I’m too scared that it’ll hurt or get infected or that I’ll-”

“You just have to find something that means something to you and brace yourself. And then it’s just simple aftercare. Not too bad at all.”

“Are we really gonna ignore the fact that our good little teacher is secretly an alternative hottie with a body?” Ava gestures to you wildly. “Like, damn girl. I knew you were fit, but I didn’t know you was gonna look like-”

“Enough,” you cut her off as you grab a float and situate yourself on it. You push yourself so that you’re close to Melissa, and she hangs off of your raft. “I don’t need my boss objectifying me.”

But she doesn’t get the hint- she never really does. And you can see the way that your girlfriend is getting more and more aggravated. Silently, you nudge her with your foot and shoot her a look, telling her to cool it.

You spend the afternoon in the pool before it’s time to start cooking some more food. Gerald comes out to take everyone’s orders, but you absolutely insist on helping to cook with him. It only seems right since they’re hosting, and you quite like to barbecue.

So you climb out of the pool. You can practically feel Ava’s eyes on you as your sun kissed skin glows. You wrap your towel around your body, and she’s immediately booing.

“Show that body, girl!” she tells you.

“I’m going to be grilling,” you roll your eyes. “I ain’t trying to barbecue myself.”

When you’ve deemed that you’re dry enough thanks to the sun still out and your closeness to the grill, you unwrap yourself from the towel. Ava cheers. Why is she always around? Her applause quickly dies though when you reach for your t-shirt and pull it over your head.

You continue to help Barbara’s husband, making small talk with him, when he asks you something that entirely throws you for a loop.

“So, you and Melissa?”

You look at him as though he has four heads. “What about it?”

“The two of you together or what?”

“What are you talking about?” you feign shock.

“I see the way she stares at you,” he shrugs. “And not the way that Ava is… there’s something there, even if you don’t know it yet.”

“I think you’re crazy,” you lie through your teeth.

“Barb thinks there’s something there too,” he tuts. “And that was before you revealed yourself to be little miss alt girl. Funnily enough, that’s exactly Melissa’s type.”

You roll your eyes. “We’re coworkers.”

“That ain’t stopping your boss from flirting with you,” he chuckles. “All I’m sayin is-”

“Is the food almost ready yet?” Melissa calls from her place in the pool. “And will you grab me another beer, hun?”

You don’t make a move, and Gerald laughs. “She ain’t callin’ me ‘hun’. That one’s all you.”

“Almost,” you call back. “And you just want another Yuengling?”

“Please!”

You grab the beverage, opening it up for her before making your way back towards the pool. She’s in the middle though, so you peel your shirt off again and make your way in to deliver it her.

“Body-ody-ody-ody-” the principal starts dancing, making quite a few splashes in the water.

“Ava!” Barbara tuts.

You roll your eyes as you climb back out of the pool and make your way back over to the grill, not wanting to hear how your boss will respond to being scolded. 

Dinner is wonderful, it’s cleaned up, and then you find yourself back in the pool as the sun starts to go down and the moon starts to rise. Gerald comes out to light up the tikis that they have around the outside, and he waves.

“Alrighty, I’m heading in for the night, but it was wonderful to see you all again.”

“Thank you, dear,” Barbara blows him a kiss.

That leaves you and the rest of the Abbott crew to spend some time in the moonlight together. Somehow, the conversation leads to you and the less professional side that you’ve now shown them.

“So, when did you get your first tattoo?” Janine asks you.

“Three days after I turned eighteen,” you laugh as you float alongside your girlfriend. “Got my nose pierced the first weekend I went to college. My mom was so pissed.”

“Why?” Barbara of all people asks. “It’s an expression.”

“She hates them,” you roll your eyes. “Told me if I got tattoos and a nose ring, she’d kick me out of the house… she never did.”

Melissa chuckles. “Sounds like-”

“Sounds like what, Melissa?” Barb cuts her off with a raised eyebrow.

“Sounds like our generation,” your girlfriend states quickly. She’s thankful it’s dim, or everyone would’ve seen the panicked look on her face.

“Who carees?” Ava asks. “It’s fuckin’ hot. If I had known that you were hiding all of that under your stuffy attire, damn… I would’ve been hitting on you way more.”

“Which is why I wear what I wear at school,” you deadpan.

“I mean, really… my boyfriend and I would love to-”

“Enough,” your girlfriend practically hisses.

The entire crew looks to the redhead. “What’s got your panties in such a twist?”

“Just shut up. Stop talking about her like that,” Melissa tells your group. “Or else.”

“Or else what, Melissa?” Ava presses. 

“Or else you’re gonna have to deal with Y/N’s girlfriend,” the redhead snaps. “Who just so happens to be me.”

You press your lips together in a fine line as you look anywhere but where your friends are floating around the pool.

They all immediately start questioning both you and the second grade teacher.

“What do you mean she’s your girlfriend?” a chorus of voices ask.

Only Barbara smirks. “I knew it.”

Melissa looks to you as she pulls you and your float in tight. “That’s right. Y/N is my girl, and y’all better stop ogling her before I throw youse in with the wolves at the zoo.”

“Mel,” you roll your eyes at her threat.

“I’m serious!” she hisses as she points a finger at Ava. “I know a guy who can make it happen, and I won’t hesitate to use him if you don’t stop drooling over my girl!”

“Since when has this been a thing?” Jacob asks. “If I had known you swung that way, Mel Mel… we would’ve been at Woody’s this whole time!”

“And that is why no one knew,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m past my days at Woody’s.”

“Well what about you, Y/N?” the middle school teacher asks. “You and me? Woody’s?”

“In your dreams, Hill,” you tease. “Maybe a more low key gay bar though.”

“So, when did this come about?” Barbara asks, quite interested. “I’ve been telling Melissa to go after you since you sauntered your way in- and that was before I knew you were a little alt girl- exactly her type.”

“Caught her at the grocery store one day,” Melissa shrugs. “We went out the next Monday… been together since.”

“It’s been, what? Four months?”

“Four months, two weeks, six days,” the redhead says casually. “And enjoying every moment of it.”

“Good on you,” Barbara cheers as she holds her drink in the air.

“So stop all your flirting with my girl, or there will be hell to pay, and I’ll make it look like it was an accident,” Melissa pointedly tells the group.

Ava puts her hands in the air in surrender before pursing her lips together. “What if both of you-”

“Ava!”

[formulaforza]

oh, simple thing— c.sainz

"the earth laughs in flowers" pairing: carlos sainz x female reader wc: 4.1k notes: guys remember when i used to write? back in january? crazy times. anyways.

You were five years old the first time you proclaimed that you were going to marry Carlos. It came, of course, after the implication that you would also be marrying Prince Charming (as long as he didn’t keep your glass slipper–shoes are a woman’s best friend, your mom had told you once and you never forgot it) and the gym teacher at your primary school, whose crush you’d never admit to anyone but your mom. Can you imagine the teasing? Thinking a grown-up is cute? It’s completely preposterous… or, when you were five, super-duper silly. 

All three of the loves of your life were completely coincidental, coming to your brain while your mom read you a bedtime story completely coincidentally. You’d had gym class that day, of course. Played with the rolling scooters and argued with the older kids about getting a turn on the tube slide. Scooter day was always your favorite, so it was no surprise your teacher was in your good graces that evening. A

After dinner, while flipping lazily through channels on the big square television in the family room, your dad had clicked on the Disney Channel by mistake. Cinderella was halfway through and you threw a fit every time he tried to change the channel. You just thought she looked so pretty, in her big princess dress dancing at the ball. 

Carlos, what had Carlos done to be in your good graces that day…? He wasn’t in your class, so you couldn’t enlist him in the war of the slides or crash into him on the scooters. He definitely wasn’t running around your house after dinner. If he was, your Mom would still be cleaning up after him somewhere in the house. Carlos, Carlos, Carlos… what had he–oh! That’s right! The flower on the way home from school. How could you ever forget the first flower? He’ll give you shit for it later. 

Your mom and Carlos’ mom had been best friends long before you and Carlos burst into the scene. They liked each other more than just about anyone, and you never did understand how Reyes never tired of your Mother’s antics. She was always bossing you around, forcing you to clean up your toys and read your books. Carlos got away with whatever he wanted, his parents would even lie for him on his reading logs. Anyways, stay focused. Because your parents were such good friends, you and Carlos grew up side by side. Parallel play or bust, since neither of you were particularly apt at sharing. Everyday on the walk home from school, your moms would catch up on the gossip from the night before while you and Carlos tried to kill each other with various objects found on the sidewalk. This day, there had been eleven pebbles, two rocks, a stick, and Carlos’ metal water bottle (the one with the HotWheels logo on the side). Now, Carlos was charging at you with… a flower? A bluebell, one he’d picked straight from the ground, root and all hanging from his fist. When he held it out to you, you scowled. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. In fact, it was about as perfect as a bluebell from the sidewalk can get, but, you’re a little shit. 

“It’s dead,” you said, took it from him and tossed it aside. “It’s not nice to pick flowers, Carlito. It kills them.” He burst into tears and your mother scolded you the rest of the way home, even though it was her who always told you to leave the wildflowers wild. After some time and consideration (a plate of dinosaur nuggets, half of Cinderella, and a bedtime story) you’d decided maybe Carlos was right to cry about the dead flower. 

Carlos, it seemed, had gotten over the dead flower incident pretty quickly because, the very next day, he was already making a joke of it. He’d held up the walk home for fifteen minutes while he searched through a field in the park. Both of your mothers and Blanca had already shown him what had to be a hundred or so healthy, perky flowers. Carlos shook his head at each one of them, typical. You sat on the curb of the garden and played with the ants that had built a sandy hill beside your foot. You resisted the urge to stomp it, only because you knew you’d be lectured about leaving the bugs alone in the same way you were about leaving the flowers alone. After a lifetime–or enough time to have an after school snack–Carlos finally settled on the ugliest, most wilted flower you’d ever laid your eyes on. He presented it to you with a laugh and, because you’re just as stubborn as he is, you accepted the gift graciously and let it sit vaseless on your dresser for three days before someone threw it away. 

Truthfully, though, the real reason you probably proclaimed your intent to marry him that night wasn’t some flower. It was that Blanca had defended you from his water bottle strike with a pebble to the back of his head, and you thought that would be a good kind of person to have as a sister. 

Carlos was seventeen when he figured he’d probably end up with you eventually for the first time. There wasn’t anything romantic about it. It was more of an ah, fuck. It’s gonna be her, isn’t it? 

Your families were in Mallorca, touring some vineyard–well, your parents were touring the vineyard. You, Carlos, and all of the siblings had snuck off from the group one by one and met up in the grove just outside the property. Carlos was bumming a cigarette from Blana when Ana finally turned up, stomping her way through the grass and wildflowers annoyedly. Carlos takes a puff of the cigarette and passes it over to you. 

“You’re going to start a wildfire, you know?” Ana says, crosses her arms over her chest and pops out a hip all bratty. 

“Ana,” Carlos groans, “shut the fuck up.” You exhale a puff of smoke through a laugh. 

“If you’re going to be mean, I’m going back to Mom and Dad.”

“Okay,” he says, “have fun.”

“I will,” she proclaims, visibly annoyed that she isn’t drawing a reaction from her big brother. She loves to piss him off, everyone does, because it’s just so easy. “I’ll have sooo much fun telling them about how you’re all in the woods smoking. I’m sure Dad will love that, don’t you think, Carlos?” Blanca rolls her eyes. Sometimes it’s fun to mess with Ana, and sometimes keeping her humble becomes more of a chore than anything else. 

Ana stomps away, her whole sneaky journey wasted, the group’s entire smoke session ruined by the pesky baby sister who can’t decide if she wants more to be included or to be a tattletale. “Don’t kill any more flowers on the way back!” Carlos calls after her, passes the cigarette to you again for one last puff before the lot of you have to make your way back to the winery, to the bathroom you’d all claimed to need to use over the past hour. Ana turns on her heels to make sure Carlos can see her eye roll. He just smiles, and you think if Carlos was your brother you probably would have killed him with your bare hands a long time ago. 

You squat down to put the cigarette out in the dirt and Carlos digs a hole with his heel for you to drop it into, kicks the dirt back over it and stomps on it a couple times. “Fuckin’ snitch,” he mutters under his breath. 

He snatches up one of the stomped on flowers, pulls it from the ground–root and all–and presents it to you. “You really are such an ass,” you say, take the flower and link your arm through his for the remainder of the walk back. “I love you,” you add, “but you’re an ass.”

You were twenty the first time your friendship with Carlos became a threat to one of your relationships. It wouldn’t be the last time. You’d been together for seven months, you and Mateo, Mateo and you. Met at a club in Barcelona and the rest was history. It was a simple conflict of interest, a scheduling woe. You were forced to make a decision. Your boyfriend’s grandma’s birthday party… or Carlos’ debut in Australia. To you, it seemed like the easiest decision in the world. His grandmother isn’t even that old–she’s got plenty of birthdays ahead of her, ones that you’d be happy to celebrate. But Carlos’ debut? Really? That’s once in a lifetime. It’s the shit you just don’t miss, even if you’re in the hospital or literally on your deathbed (which Mateo’s grandma is NOT, by the way. She lived seven more years according to recent Facebook posts). 

“You’re going to Australia?” He’d scoffed when you told him, mentioned it so nonchalantly over dinner. When I’m in Australia, don’t forget to water the plants, or something along those trivial lines. He was just as offended as you were utterly confused. There’s no way he thought– “What about my abuela’s birthday?”

You’d laughed. The wrong thing to do, you know, but it was an action done without thought, without intention. “What about it?”

“You’re supposed to come with me.”

“I never said that,” you shake your head and he pulls a face. You set your silverware down and prepare for the coming argument. Normally, you’d just back down, but this is Carlos we’re talking about. Carlos, and his dream. Carlos, and his reality. “I didn’t,” you reaffirm. 

He leans forward onto the table, elbows shaking the entire thing, rattling the wine glasses and ceramic against the wood. “I assumed you–”

“–I don’t know why you would assume I‘d be doing anything except supporting Carlos,” you say, more defensive than you intend to be. It’s just, you can already see where this is going, even if it’s never gone there before. You’ve watched the girls Carlos brings home look at him the same way Mateo is looking at you right now, or more importantly, how he doesn’t look at you. 

“You know, I don’t either.” He nods, but it’s more of a full body movement, like he’s rocking forward, lips pursed and jaw tight. His eyebrows raise like he’s going to shrug, like he’s surprised with himself. You doubt you read the emotion right. “It’s always about Carlos, isn’t it?”

You lean back in your seat, cross your arms over your chest, close your eyes just long enough to hide the eye roll, and then you’re piling the silverware and the napkin onto the plate and moving the party to the kitchen sink. “I’m not doing this right now,” you say when you grab the wine glass carelessly. 

“Oh, so you know what this is about, then?” He calls after you, gathers his things sloppily and follows you into the kitchen. 

“You just said it’s about Carlos,” you say, slamming the sink on and clattering the plates into the bowl. Carlos had told you about these fights, about the ones he’s had with his girlfriends. You’d laughed about them, always thought it was so funny–the idea of someone left fuming by your friendship. The crazy assumptions, they couldn’t be more wrong if they tried. You and Carlos are nothing but platonic, you’ve always been platonic, you’ll always be platonic. When you know someone as long as you’ve known Carlos, they just become a part of you, build this little home in your soul that blends in so perfectly you could never cut it out with clean margins. It’s not just Carlos, either. It’s Blanca and Ana, too. Hell, it’s even Carlos Sr. and Reyes, but nobody ever seems to understand that. 

“It’s my Abuela,” he says, like you’re supposed to be moved or something, and he sets his dishes in the sink on top of yours. “It’s her birthday, and you’re supposed to come with me. I told my family you were coming.”

“I don’t understand why you would do that,” you start scrubbing the first plate with far more aggression than required. You’re not a good fighter, you get mean, and you get mean quick. “I was never not going to Australia.”

He laughs, leans against the counter with his arms crossed, staring at the ground, at the crumbs waiting to be swept up. “Because you’re never going to choose me over Carlos, right?”

“Mateo.”

“Answer the question.”

You freeze, squeeze the soapy sponge in a fist until there’s nothing left to ring out of it. “I’m certainly not going to choose your Abuela over my friend. Over my brother.”

“He’s not your brother.”

You sigh, go back to cleaning. “He’s like my brother.”

“Yeah, if you wanted to fuck your brother,” he says, and meets your eyes with wide, proud eyes like he’d done something, caught you in some illicit love affair. You resist the urge to grab the wand from the sink and spray him with a jet of water. 

Instead, coldly, you’d replied, “get out,” and pointed to the door. 

His hands shot up in some great defense. Or maybe it was offense, you really never could read him that well. “I see how you look at him.”

In. Out. In, and then out. Deep breaths. “I said leave, Mateo.”

“Because you know I’m right.” In, then out. “You know how fucked up it is that there’s three people in our relationship,” in, out. “Four, if you count Carlos’ girlfriend! What do you think she thinks about all this? You looking at her boyfriend like your favorite candy?” In, then. In, then–in, and then you slap him with a wet hand, the contact reverberating into a splash, coating the walls and the ceiling and the entire fucking room in anger. Anger, and dirty dish water. 

The anger is deafening, the room so quiet that the sink makes the kitchen sound like it’s directly behind a waterfall. 

He storms off into the living room. You return to the dishes, hear the jingle of his keys, the door opening. “Fuck you!” You call after him, but what you really mean is Fuck Carlos. 

When you get the breakup text a few days later, you’re not surprised. You put on your best face and pretend you never read it because while your boyfriend did just break up with you in a seven word text, you’re sitting out the back of the Toro Rosso motorhome watching Carlos pace.

You’ll tell him later, you think, after the race. And then, you don’t dare ruin the celebration, ride the high out until it can’t be ridden any longer. By the time you do get around to telling him, you’re all but moved on, mentioning it nonchalantly amongst the chaos of his first season. It falls away to the backburner, into irrelevancy, and Carlos never does ask what happened to sour the relationship. He does, however, have a wilted arrangement of flowers delivered to your front door with a handwritten note–ugly and dead, just like your relationship. You’d laughed for maybe twenty straight minutes. 

Carlos was twenty-four when he realized he was in love with you, that maybe he always had been. He’d just broken up with a girlfriend, one whose name he hardly remembers now. Alessandra… Alena… Adrianna–oh, screw it. It was definitely an “A,” and if it wasn’t, he’s sure it was a vowel. Not the point. He was twenty-four and had just dumped whatever her name was because it just didn’t feel right. (What does right feel like at twenty-four? And how do you know it when you see it? The world may never know). 

It was three races into the 2019 season, and he’d been having a particularly unlucky start with his new team. He’d spent the offseason relatively alone in Woking, finding his footing in a new place, a new team, a new car. Everything is gray, you’d told him the night he announced his impending move, scrolling through your phone at Google search results for the town. “It’s not gray,” he said, and without needing to say anything or flash him a look, he backtracked. “Okay, it’s a little gray.”

Three races in–an engine fire and two first lap collisions–in, and everything is feeling pretty gray, not just his rainy apartment (flat, he’s been taught to call it) in Woking. The cards felt stacked against him, and reluctantly, he’d called in reinforcements to Baku, a couple of good luck charms in the form of the people he loved. You, Ana, and Blanca flew in together and made Carlos come pick you up from the airport himself. 

You climbed into the backseat and were anything but gray. You were glowing, completely and utterly sunkissed, and your hair was messy from travel but it reminded him of what you’re like after a good nap. Groggy and sleepy and desperate to stretch out like a cat. He hates that he knows how you like to stretch after a nap, the exact pattern of movements you do. Do you know how much time you have to spend with someone to memorize their post-nap stretch routine? Too much time, that’s how much. 

You got into his car, all bright and sunny, and sure, his sisters were there and he loves them so much. But, you’re here, and you’re bright and sunny and everything feels just a little less gray. He pulls out from the airport and while he doesn’t realize that he loves you just yet, he knows something in him has been chemically altered by your smile, irrevocably so.

It’s Sunday when he realizes, somewhere between the checkered flag and the team debrief when you and the girls appear, practically crash into him like you’d been dropped down into the garage right from the sky. He hugs you, and you smell like sunshine. He wants to bash his head into the wall of his driver's room, to lay in front of Lando’s car and ask him to run him over because he’s not supposed to take note of the way you smell (unless it’s to call you out for smelling like shit). 

You kiss his cheek and shove his shoulder because you’re so happy for him, because you’re always so happy for him. He doesn’t think it’s fair for someone like him to always have someone this happy for him. He loves that about you. He loves everything about you. He loves you. Fuck, he’s in love with you. 

Lando nearly pees his pants over a tweet the next day. Carlos has reached a new level of Carlos-ing, it read, with a picture of him visibility distracted while being fed to the media pen. He can’t tell his teammate that the reason he’s so distracted is because he’s internally debating the pros and cons of ruining your friendship forever. 

You’re twenty-four when you and Carlos start dating. The two of you drag it out for as long as humanly possible, stretch the patience of everyone around you so thin they won’t be surprised (or concerned) at the idea of you and him getting together. It’s scary. Really, really scary to admit your feelings for each other, to tell the rest of the world about it, but Carlos keeps bringing you these mis-shapen flowers, ones where the dye is soaked up poorly or they’re a couple days too wilted. It’s our thing, he would always say, and kiss you while you cut the stems to fit in your favorite vase. 

He was right, it was something that was just yours. There was nobody else actively searching out dying flowers in the shops or carefully picking the dirtiest wildflower from its root on an evening walk through the city. That was just the two of you, and nobody else understood it. 

“It’s gross,” a friend told you, twiddling one of the half-dead flower stems between her fingers while you shared gossip over glasses of wine. “You got these today and they’re ready to be thrown in the bin.”

“You don’t get it,” you’d swatted her words away. The dead flowers weren’t understood, and they didn’t need to be. They were special to you and Carlos, and when it came down to it, nothing else mattered to you. 

“Seriously, though,” she’d continued, “It’s… I don’t know. Dead flowers, it’s just weird.”

Carlos is twenty-six when you break up. It’s mutual, it is. Even when it doesn’t feel like it’s mutual, when either one of you desperately searches to blame the other for the pitfalls, it’s still mutual, still two people who love each other. Who just aren’t in love with each other anymore. 

There’s a lot of reasons if you want to get into it, but his new drive is the catalyst for pretty much all of them. Carlos is with Ferrari now, which is the dream, but it's also the nightmare. McLaren is iconic and historic but Ferrari… well. Everyone knows the Vettel quote, everyone knows the kid’s car is red. Ferrari’s Ferrari and you’re just… you. Time runs out, patience runs thin, and that’s the end of it. 

You’re twenty-seven when you see him for the first time post-breakup. It’s a setup by your parents. Mallorca and the vineyard, again. You don’t think anything of it, so much has happened in the last decade and Mallorca is half of Spain’s favorite vacation destination. 

He’s sitting with his family at the bar, the whole clan of them sipping from a wine-tasting tray. His eyes shoot up to meet yours with the loud creak of the old, heavy doors. He does a double take, and your stomach turns into a ball of knotted necklaces. 

During the same tour you’d been on all those years ago, you sneak off with the same excuse you’d used. Blanca and Ana don’t follow after you to debate the environmental damages of bumming a cigarette in the grove or to threaten to snitch on you to your parents. They stay behind and listen and you stomp through the wildflowers to get some air. You’re already outside, Carlos would say if he were there. You’re my dirty air, you’d tell him, and he would roll his eyes, shove his hands deep in his pockets and rock on his heels. 

He knows you’re not in the bathroom, there isn’t a single nerve in your mind that thinks he doesn’t know exactly where you are. He doesn’t sneak off behind you. You gather your thoughts in the grove by yourself, leant against a tree older than you’ll dream of being. You pick a wildflower, one that looks picture perfect, snap it carefully from the root and stick the stem behind your ear. 

When you return to your party, they don’t notice you’ve been gone for far too long to use the bathroom or that you’ve got a flower in your hair. Well, all of them except Carlos, who slows his walking pace to drop to the back of the group next to you. “Nice flower,” he comments quietly. 

You nod, watch your feet as they move in synchronized steps with him on the grassy path. “Thanks.”

“It’s dead,” he adds, and you smile dimly. “It’s not nice to kill the flowers.”

Carlos is twenty-eight when he’s perusing the birthday card section at the local gift shop. He’s trying to find one that perfectly sums up his birthday wishes for you. It has to be sunny and happy and so, so sorry for everything (even when it’s nobody’s fault). It has to say, I’ll always love you without saying I am still terribly in love with you. It has to be subtle and obvious and endearing and serious and funny. It has to be everything his words can’t be. 

He eventually settles on one, tucks it into the yellow envelope and licks it shut. He handwrites your name on it messily, like you could get confused about who it’s for and need a label, or like he has a stack of yellow envelopes for dozens of other people sitting sealed on his kitchen counter. He goes to the florist next, picks out a stock arrangement from the fridge and a package of flower seeds. The final stop on his city tour is your apartment. Three knocks on your door, and then you’re undoing the deadbolt. 

“Hi,” you say, confused by his presence on your welcome mat. 

“Happy Birthday,” he smiles. “This is the last time I get you dead flowers.”

You and Carlos are thirty at your wedding. He cries when you walk down the aisle and there isn’t a single real flower in your bouquet. It’s all fake, and one of your friends asks if you’re worried it might look tacky or cheap. Anyone who thinks that shouldn’t be at our wedding, you’d told them. 

[wwaheoh]

maid x master are overrated booo tomato tomato /hj

i want more maid x maid wlw cuz i think they're cute :3

well since we talking about maid here can i request alexandrina x shy fem junior/trainee maid, for short rina teach y/n proper etiquette as they spend time together they start flirting or something like that (y/n working for months so they know each other a bit)

sorry man I can't write good prompt :(

anyways get enough sleep, sleep good you deserve it

"The One in Which You and a Ghost Lady Fall in Love” Alexandrina Sebastiane x gnReader

a/n: decided to do gender neutral rather than female, hope you don’t mind! but feel free to change the pronouns and such in your head!

a/n²: ironically pretty bad at writing a relationship that doesn't end in tragedy

As the newest addition of Victoria Housekeeping, you had to undergo various types of training- as expected. Ranging from household cleaning to taking down Ethereals in a fast and professional manner. Honestly you sorta expected it- even having been warned as you applied for the position about the additional forms of work Victoria Housekeeping did.

Though to be honest, it was pretty fun, being given training and permission to let go and duke it out with enemies whenever the need arose. The problem was the whole ‘interacting with clients’, it was really hard not to tremble or cringe while talking, feeling as though you were embarrassing Mister Lycaon and the rest of Victoria Housekeeping just by existing.

So, you had been given more training in customer relations, with your main teacher being Miss Sebastiane- though she preferred you call her Miss Rina. She was your senior, a woman with a serene gracefulness, kind and gentle- yet not afraid to put pressure on clients who got too handsy or Ethereals that entered the property they were hired to keep. She was so kind, strong, gentle, firm, a smile that made you at ease and inspired you to keep pushing away from the mental barrier of interacting with clients. Beautiful, with soft hair framing her mature face, eyes of ruby that kept you mesmerized…

Then those eyes blinked.

Today Miss Rina had been teaching you how to dance, a semi-often requested service. For when a client didn’t have a partner- either through choice or circumstance, they would call on Victoria Housekeeping to be their partner. It happened more often than one would think.

Yet as she lead you through the steps, you had become transfixed on the older lady, still mirroring her but losing yourself in her. Something she noticed as you lost your usual unsureness, steps becoming more loose rather than the high-strung nervousness you usually exhibited.

Truthfully she was very flattered, where people usually looked at her, it was with either lust or a passing by before turning to the other workers like Lycaon or Ellen. You looked at her with love, heart stolen by her. She had her eye on you for a bit, the cuteness of your bashfulness, how you aimed to do your best- much like Corin, yet fell flat at the more mental problems. You were cute yes, but also strong in your own way, a trait you shared with Corin as well. Always aiming to protect, eyes filled with warmth even when in stressful situations.

As the two of you finished your dance, she dipped you low, holding you steady, gaze looking deep back at you.

Words escaped you, “Would you grant me the honor of going to dinner with you?” You immediately slammed your palms to your mouth- leading you to fall and hit your bum on the ground. Internally you were panicking, doing everything you could to not look at Miss Rina, hoping you didn’t ruin the relationship between the two of you, having overstepped the bounds of the work-place.

Out of your view, she relaxed, sinking down and cupping your chin. Softly directing you to look at her, you followed, puddy in her hands. “Nothing would make me happier.” With her free hand she held you by the arm, pulling you up alongside her as she moved with the serenity of a flowing river. “Tonight at 8?” You nodded, not trusting your words to be able to convey what you wanted. There weren't any words possible to let her know what you felt.

The two of you danced once more, steps in sync.

[cakexblankett]

Character

Larissa Weems

Rating

Red

Words

1545

~•~

I was in trouble. In a lot of trouble.

Every month, the teachers of Nevermore were reunited by the principal to discuss how the lectures were going, if there were students who needed more help, if there were problems with a certain class, things like that. I had my material spread in front of me, trying to see if I needed help with something. I didn't, really, because the class was always active during my lecture, they listened when they had to, they talked when it was their turn to do so.

That day, before the reunion, my class took an exam on the topic tackled in the previous lectures. I had time to do whatever, so I started writing on a piece of paper a poem, the words kept coming and coming on their own accord, and my hand started moving on its own. My eyes shined, and a smile spread across my face. Nobody has to read this, I thought.

That's why, when the reunion finished and I was already in my room, I panicked not finding that piece of paper in the midst of my materials.

I was in trouble.

I was searching for it when I heard the ping! of my smartphone. Anxiously, still trying to remember where the Hell I had put that damned poem, I read the message.

Larissa:

Come to my office, we have a matter to discuss.

09:30 PM

I started sweating, what could possibly want the principal to talk about with me? Unless...

I shook my head, hoping it wasn't as I feared it was.

I closed my room door, and sighed. It was probably something to do with the reunion that we had before, nothing more.

All the way to her office, I fidgeted with my fingers, nervously. Once arrived, I knocked two times.

"Come in."

I gulped, opening the immense door before me.

"Please, do take a seat."

I closed the door and went to take a seat. She was seated on her chair, her hands playing with a piece of paper. Wait, a piece of paper!?

"I think you know why I called you here, don't you?"

My eyes went wide. I started moving my hands in the air, trying to come up with an excuse good enough for that poem.

"I-I... you see, it's not as it may appear to be, just-"

She raised a finger, shushing me.

"I think it's exactly as it appears to be. I mean, you made it very explicit."

I blushed.

The poem was, in fact, a collection of my wet dreams I had of the woman seated in front of me. And of course she had to read it.

"Do you have this... dreams, often?"

"No! Well, I mean... yes, but-"

She smiled, her lips stretching. I was mesmerised. I wanted to see her smile every day.

"You don't have to be all shy, now."

She got up, towering over me. Our height difference made everything she did more exciting. She could just stay still for an hour, it only took for me to look up at her and something would start moving in my chest.

She kneeled in front of me.

"What...?"

Her hands were on my thighs, I felt like they were on fire.

"Why don't you tell me what else you dream about? What do you want me to do to your pretty body?"

I felt a hot feeling in my lower abdomen, and wet in a place I wish she would just touch already. The mix of her low voice and her british accent made her so sensual.

"I-I don't understand..."

"Hm I'm sure you do, little pet."

Pet. I loved when she called me pet names.

"Now, why don't we start by undressing you, hm?"

She slowly started unbuttoning my blouse, biting her lip. I bit my lip to prevent a moan escaping. Just the sight of her kneeled like that, in between my legs, could have made me climax.

My blouse soon found its place on the floor. She licked her lips and looked at me.

"Would you like to be kissed?"

"Why are you asking?"

She shrugged, keeping her eyes on me.

"You didn't write it on your poem. Not once, there was not a single kiss."

She was so cute, asking for my permission. I smiled, getting closer to her.

"I would love for you to kiss me."

She smirked and kissed me. Her lips were soft, and she tasted like wine. She was probably drinking before I came in. Her tongue met mine in a passionate dance. I moaned when I felt her hand cupping my breast. She moved away, interrupting the kiss. She started trailing kisses on my neck, moving lower and lower. I closed my eyes, feeling the softness of her skin on mine.

"Let's get rid of this, shall we?"

She smirked, unclasping my bra. She stared at my chest for some seconds, and I blushed. Being so naked in front of the woman I litteraly loved was embarassing, to say the least.

"You are beautiful, Y/N."

I opened my mouth but she didn't give me time to day anything because she kissed me right away. Her fingers pinched my nipple, playing with it. She licked from my neck to my breast, taking in her mouth my other nipple, sucking it and swirling it with her tongue.

I moaned. She was so good at this, I wondered how many times she did it.

"Get up."

I immediately obeyed. She remained in her kneeling position. Even so, she was tall enough to unzip my jeans. She threw them away with my panties, which were soaked. She made me sit again, making sure I was comfortable.

She licked my vagina, moaning at the taste. I gasped at the sensation of her tongue on my most sensitive part.

"Hm so wet, all for me. Good girl."

I let out a moan at the name. She smirked, looking at me.

"Tell me what you want."

She was enjoying this as much as I was enjoying it, which was a lot.

"Please, I need you to keep doing it."

"Keep doing what, my love?"

Her hands were on my thighs again, spreading them apart.

"Lick me, please."

I pleaded. She hummed in approval, and she immediately started licking and sucking my bundle of nerves. Her grip on my thighs was strong.

"Ah just like that..."

Her eyes were fixed on mine, and at that sight, her face buried in between my legs, with her watching my expressions, I felt a jolt of electricity run in my veins. It didn't take long for me to arrive at my limit.

"Oh I'm so close..."

And then she stopped. I let out a whimper at the loss of contact.

"Wha- why?"

I asked. She giggled, getting up.

"Hush, my love. I want you to make mommy feel good too, don't you want that?"

I nodded.

"Yes, yes! I want mommy to feel good too!"

She smirked, lifting up her dress. She got rid of her panties and came closer.

"Is it ok if I shapeshift?"

I looked at her. Why would she do that?

"But I want to see you as you."

She giggled, cupping my cheek.

"I don't want to change my appearence, just... a certain part of my body."

I looked her inquiringly. She looked down and I followed her gaze. Then it hit me.

"Only if you feel comfortable."

She added. I nodded, eagerly. I was a lesbian, but strangely, the thought of getting penetrated by Larissa didn't disgust me.

"Good little girl."

Soon, she spread my legs and put the tip in. I looked at it, and couldn't fathom how it would ever enter all in me.

"I fear it's too big..."

"Don't worry, I will make sure to make you and I both feel good."

I gulped, feeling it enter me bit by bit. I stang, but Larissa's hand soon found her place on my clitoris, doing circular motions to tone down the pain.

"Hm you feel so good."

She moaned once it was all in. She started moving inside of me slowly, in and out, in and out. Her hand playing with my clitoris.

"You're so tight and warm, you're making mommy feel so good."

Our moans resonated in unison in the office, her movements getting faster and faster.

"Hm you're making me come."

"Please, I'm so close too..."

Her hands were on my sides, slamming into me with loud and lewd noises. Her moans were low and hearing them made me feel stars.

"Come, come with me, love."

It was enough for me to climax. Her legs shook, just like mine did. It washed over me like a riptide, and I could tell Larissa enjoyed it too from the look of pure bliss she had.

She got it out and it inmediately disappeared. She kissed me, with love and passion.

"We could have had this much fun sooner if you would have let me know your feelings."

"Well, now you know."

She hummed, while helping me on my feet.

"Maybe we could see eachother more often."

I smiled, hugging her.

"I would love that."

[hotchfiles]

FORST OFF CONGRATS ON A HUNDER LARI THATS AMAZING

SECOND OFF IM GOING TO STOP WRITING IN ALL CAPS NOW

third off, i’d love to see your take on remus and the song lacy by olivia rodrigo

<3 love u and ur writing !!!!

lari's 100th follower bash + send me a song and one of my boys for a drabble

remus + olivia rodrigo's lacey (I feel your compliments like bullets on skin; dazzling starlet, bardot reincarnate; well, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist?)

the three times remus wanted to confess; and the one time he did.

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

he has a plan. he has a speech. he spent his whole weekend thinking of it, thinking of the right words to say. he needed you to know how sweet you were, how your smile made his heart physically hurt and how his fingertips burnt every time he touched your skin. you needed to know he dreamed of your perfume even though it made him dizzy when you were close. and how his thoughts were flooded with your face, your voice, your eyes.

he was drowning, you were the sea, he wasn't a good swimmer.

he brought you flowers, your favorites, surely you never told him that, he just knew. your hands went to his waist, pulling him in a hug as you softly thanked him for the beautiful gift. his heart literally dropped, what if you didn't love him back?

he would never be able to feel your arms around him like that again if he fucked it up by bringing his crush up; it would be better to just forget the whole plan. so he did.

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

your lips curl as the tip of your pencil taps annoyingly quickly to the table, his voice calm as you nod repeatedly, making sense of what he was explaining to what you had to do in your paper.

remus feels like he's going to die when you smile and glue your lips to his cheek, "thank you, remmy, it makes so much more sense now. you're a wonderful teacher." wonderful. he's going to remember that. he tries to respond, tries to tell you you're the wonderful one. that your compliments made him feel alive, that he mostly didn't believe in himself but every time you showed him how much you did... he wanted to too.

but instead he just shrugs, tells you it's easy for him to explain it because he had to spend a lot of time trying to understand it as well. he wasn't particularly smart, just had some patience. but he wanted to tell you you're the smart one, the smartest, that opposite to him, you just lacked the patience. but you were brilliant, having someone like you apparently think so highly of him keeps him awake at night and wakes him up at morning. he just asks if you needed help with anything else, though.

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

you're his date and his palms are sweaty. you asked him to come with you, going to a wedding alone seemed awfully pathetic and you surely didn't want to get the sad looks and the pity smiles from your cousins because you were single. his tie matched the petit bow in your hair and he can't even savor the sweets from the reception as his stomach twirls around and your family asks him questions and tells him about his eyes and how polite and handsome he is.

some older woman whispers to you that you're lucky, because of him. remus pretends not to hear it but it's the most precious thing he has ever heard in his life even if it isn't true. he's the lucky one to be there.

by the end of the night you're both tipsy and slow dancing to some random song, he's holding your heels behind your back and you're close to him he never wants to leave. he wants to kiss you. to slow dance with you like that every single day.

but he's a coward and when you look into his eyes and he sees everything he loves about you, he can't speak, his friends tell him to just confess, but how can he when you're an angel and he's just some guy?

so he just smiles.

it's torture.

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

a girl talks to him so eagerly, her hand touching his arms as if they know each other. maybe they do. he's smiling at her, so earnestly, doesn't look annoyed at all. maybe he's not. your eyes follow every movement, jealousy wasn't kind, it was a bitter lonely bitch, and it had been enjoying your company for a while now.

"who's that?" the first words you tell him as he approaches, you could lie and pretend you tried not to sound spiteful, but you did. remus tells you she's a friend. you make a face and that one wasn't planned.

he knows you too well, you're annoyed, upset. he's not sure why, so he insists on asking, at first he promised to buy you sweets if you told him, bumping his shoulder to yours. but when you refuse his lips turn, actually worried.

"hey, did i do something wrong? are you mad at me? because i—" he looks from you to the floor quickly, chuckling at how pathetic he must sound right now, "don't think i could handle if you were."

you're quick to correct yourself, you're not mad, at all, "just figured you'd tell me if you... you know, started seeing someone." your fingers seem more interesting now than the weight of your words, afraid to look at him because if you did he would know, and that was too embarrassing.

remus was ecstatic though, you were... jealous. of him. he could be wrong, but your mannerisms were too alike his when he saw you with someone. he pulls you to him, his hands cupping your face and making you look at him.

he searches for answers in your eyes before he tries doing anything that could ruin this, "you would know if i was seeing someone." he notices the way your eyes tried avoiding his gaze, disappointed. his answer.

he kisses you, no words necessary, no confession, no flowers. you kiss him back knowingly, as his taste invaded your senses you felt stupid for doubting he would love you. he was perfectly made for you, it is the most obvious thing as his hands reach your waist to pull you closer.

remus pulls away only an inch as is lungs begged for air, his eyes not leaving yours, "love, i think i'm seeing someone." you laugh at his awful joke and kiss him again, glad your tiny jealousy had been worth something beyond embarrassment.

[echantedtoon]

OMG OMG!! DAD KYOJURO AU!!

I just had the most adorable idea and I had to share it despite me still taking a break from posting.

But freaking imagine Kyojuro just adopting all of the Kamados after they're orphaned. Yes. I'm talking about all the Kamado siblings. If there's an alternate universe where they're teachers and students (Kimetsu Gauken) then there's one where all the siblings survive. Whether it's modern or not I have no idea but I have adorable ideas for both!

Imagine Shinjuro and Ruka coming to visit their oldest son and there's six children inside including Tanjuro youngest baby brother who's strapped to his chest. Both are extremely confused about it but asks about it assuming he's just babysitting for someone.

"MOTHER! FATHER! YOU'RE JUST IN TIME TO MEET YOUR NEW GRANDCHILDREN!"

Both are shocked, Shinjuro more than Ruka, but it turns out Kyojuro is actually fostering the Kamado siblings after both parents pass away. He's already adopted them in his eyes whether he's legally their adopted dad on paper is irrelevant but he's in the process of actually making that happen.

Ruka is way understanding of Kyojuro's decision and always knew he wanted to be a dad. Senjuro is absolutely overjoyed to have more siblings including sisters and for once he's the big bro. Shinjuro thinks Kyojuro is hurting his chances of finding a woman who could give him actual children but a few loud and firm talks from Ruka and seeing Kyo so happy, makes him eventually come to terms with it.

It helps him bond with his new 'grandchildren' when Shigeru and Takeo wants to join his dojo after seeing Shinjuro teaching Senjuro how to properly stand to defend himself. IT LOOKS SO COOL!! They want to try too! He's stunned by it but isn't against the idea. It helps when Kyojuro has the girls and Tanjiro join too because-

"Self defense training is always a good idea!! And it healthy to keep in shape!"

It's become a family bonding experience for the entire family every Saturday to attend Grandpa Shinjuro classes while Kyojuro takes pictures and takes care of a fussy Rokuta in his arms.

ALSO IMAGINE KYO BEING SUCH A MALEWIFE!!

He doesn't notice it but a lot more people fawn over him as he becomes a dad. It's that (dilf-) domestic energy radiating off of him!

He's oblivious to it so when people are aweing over him as he plays peekaboo with Rokuta or letting the girls do his nails at the park, he just thinks they're impressed by his dad skills. Please help him. He's smart but so oblivious to the effects he has on people.

Speaking of which-

HE'S SO GOOD AT PARENTING!!

-Encouraging but if he thinks his kids need to learn by doing or needs privacy he respects their space.

-ABSOLUTELY LET'S THE GIRLS DO HIS HAIR AND MAKE UP! Once forgot to wash it off and came back to work with orange and red nail polish and black eyeshadow. But he'll proudly admit it if you asked him. "Hanako and Nezuko did my make up! What do you think, Best Buddy?!" "Flashy!~ But next time don't sleep in it. Looks smudged."

-Drives a minivan and absolutely drops all the kids off at school/daycare. You'll always see him driving his kids to activities.

-Speakibg of activities, he encourages all his kids to at least have one extracurricular activity outside Grampy-juro's self defense classes. He's very encouraging of his kid's hobbies! He's always driving Nezuko and Tanjiro to their after school clubs. He never misses Takeo and Shigero's sports meetings and is that one parent that always brings the entire team snacks and bottled water. He's yet to miss any of Hanako's dance recitals.

If he can't make it to any of them he's always asking someone to film it for him so he can watch it later.

-If they express other interests he fully supports them in those too! Rokuta likes art as he gets older? He's buying the baby nontoxic paints and crayons and whatever he needs. Somehow convinces Tengen to give him some art points too. Hanako starts a figurine collection? He's taking her to the store and buying her at least ten new ones.

-Teaches Tanjiro and Nezuko to drive once the two oldest get old enough to get a driver's license and like the classic dad wears a helmet and grips the seats as they go

-Carries Rokuta in a baby harness and later on a baby leash until he's old enough for the Kimetsu Preschool. Kagaya is alright with this and has given him special permission to have Rokuta with him during classes.

-Hr documents everything in one big scrap book. All birthdays, trips, milestones, etc are documented forever in a giant scrapbook.

-Cries like a baby when Tanjiro and Nezuko first graduates and gets their diplomas.

-But I think the best thing about Dad Kyojuro is that he'd never try to replace Tanjuro or Kie in their lives. He makes sure that they have a picture of their parents hanging on the wall and never undermines their feelings or memories concerning them and has no problems saying they were great parents. Takes them to visit their resting place at least once or twice a year and as Rokuta grows older, he tells him all about his parents so he knows who they are.

-He also never pressures any of them to call him Dad. Kyojuro, Mr. Rengoku, and Big Bro is just as good in his eyes but if they choose to call him Dad he's not against it. But be prepared for him to cry happy tears for the next few hours.

@lavenderdrxp @sunbrokenswords @risingscorchingsuns @iron-embers

[fanficshiddles]

Jealousy and Tricks, One Shot

Thank you for the prompt, toshisurtsdottir: Snape railing Toshi and Tom is somewhere in the background passively standing around so the one shot passes the requirements :)

I shoulda known you’d submit something like this! Haha! I’ve changed it quite a bit, since I know you just want the Toshi and Snape smut, so I came up with a diff idea around it and had a little fun.

Note/warnings: Hogwarts/Asgard AU thing. Jealousy. Un-accepted Voyeurism? I dunno how else to describe it. Basically, Severus and Toshi being watched unknowingly. *shrugs*

-

‘I think it’s ridiculous that Dumbledore has resolved to having idiotic gods in the school.’ Severus huffed as he and Toshi made their way down one of the halls.

‘I think it’s a good idea. If it helps keep the kids safe, we can continue on with our lessons without worry.’ Toshi shrugged. ‘Besides, that Loki one is quite hot.’

Severus raised an eyebrow and his head whipped round to face her. He opened his mouth but found he couldn’t say anything. He despised Toshi and she him. They got on each other’s nerves, she always bugged him while he was busy making potions, hanging around him and interfering. She was so infuriating…

Yet, he couldn’t help but have a bit of jealousy creep up inside him at the thought of her crushing on someone else…

Toshi noticed his reaction, she smirked to herself and flounced off into her classroom. Leaving Severus to continue on his way without her.

That evening during dinner, Severus was sitting in his usual place at the top table and he noticed Toshi speaking with that Loki at the side of the banquet hall. The way Toshi was blushing slightly and giggling, touching his arm where possible didn’t go unnoticed by Severus.

Loki smirked charmingly at the beautiful young woman who seemed to have taken a shine to him.

He had been reluctant at first when Odin demanded that he, Thor, and a few others were to go and protect a ridiculous ‘magical’ school for wizards and witches on Midgard. He found their way of using magic tedious in comparison to his. Though after arriving, even he couldn’t deny that after he had seen some of the more experienced students and teachers use their magical powers that some were rather impressive. Toshi was one of those.

Though as the days went on, Loki didn’t fail to notice that Toshi was often looking in the direction of the potion’s teacher, Severus Snape. And that Severus was often looking at Toshi, and glaring daggers at Loki whenever Toshi was next to him.

Loki wasn’t stupid, of course he put two and two together very quickly. He was surprised to learn that the two teachers disliked one another, that they found the other irritating, but the glances at one another was so evident to him.

One weekend, Loki bided his time and he knew that there was a dance tomorrow night. So, he decided to put his little theory to the test. The teachers were all just hovering around, talking and having a drink. Loki waited until Toshi was near Severus, then he approached her.

‘Ah, Toshi. I’ve been looking for you.’ He smiled charmingly at her.

Toshi did find herself melting a little, he was a very good-looking god. Very charming, too. Though it made her realise she most definitely had a certain type…

‘Hey, Loki. Everything ok?’ She smiled at him.

‘More than ok.’ He grinned and could see out of the corner of his eye that Severus was listening and watching intently, even though he was pretending to listen to Hagrid rambling on about his Hippogriff, Buckbeak.

‘I heard about the dance tomorrow, we’ve been told we’re allowed to attend. I thought I’d ask, whether you’d like to be my date for it? Providing you don’t already have one, that is.’ Loki asked her.

Toshi’s cheeks turned a little bit red. Loki noticed she glanced very briefly over at Severus before looking back at Loki and she nodded in agreement. Before she could speak though, Severus was suddenly right beside her, hand firmly gripping her elbow.

‘She does indeed already have a date for the dance.’ He announced quickly, glaring daggers at Loki.

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Oh, well, my apologies. I wanted to make sure that this beautiful woman wasn’t going solo.’ He grinned.

‘No need to worry about that.’ Severus said through gritted teeth.

Toshi was in too much shock to say anything, she couldn’t do anything but look at Severus with wide eyes.

‘A word, Toshi.’ Severus said in a rather clipped tone, he guided her out of the room by her elbow.

Loki smirked as he picked up his drink and watched them leave.

‘What are you looking so smug about, brother? I hope you’re not up to your mischievous tricks again.’ Thor asked suspiciously as he approached him.

‘Oh, just using my observant skills to help two people realise their feelings for one another, is all.’ Loki grinned.

Thor just looked utterly confused in response.

-

‘What on earth are you doing? Why would you say I have a date for the dance when I don’t? I could’ve gone with Loki, a literal God!’ Toshi hissed at Severus once she got her brain to kick into gear.

‘You are not going with him. I’m your date for the dance.’ Severus said determinedly, he kept walking as he dragged her along. Though with his large strides, she was struggling to keep up without tripping over her own feet.

‘Sev, stop!’ She yelled at him and pulled free from his grasp.

Severus raised an eyebrow at her and surprised her by backing her against the wall, he placed a hand firmly on the wall beside her head, making her jump a little. Though she was instantly aroused, even if she was trying not to be…

‘What have I told you about calling me that?’ He narrowed his eyes at her and got far too close for comfort… but Toshi didn’t want him to move. She liked having him this close. She could smell him, and he was making her head swim.

Toshi smirked and shrugged. ‘I thought you’d know by now, I don’t do what you tell me to.’ She said snarkily.

Severus raised an eyebrow at her and he gripped her chin. ‘Well, maybe you should start doing what I say and behave yourself.’ He growled out and kissed her roughly, surprising her completely and knocking her off guard.

Fuck, his lips were so soft against hers. She instantly melted and Severus could feel the change in her body straight away, he couldn’t help but smirk against her lips.

His hand slid down to her neck, he gently caressed her there for a moment and then wrapped his hand around her further and squeezed slightly, making her gasp into his mouth.

‘Maybe it’s time I put you in your place.’ He drawled slowly, punctuating every word carefully as his other hand landed on her hip.

Toshi squeezed her thighs together at the thought. She knew she had to pick her words carefully, this was it. The moment she had been waiting for…

‘I’d like to see you try.’ She whispered.

Severus smirked, then in a flash, he threw her over his shoulder and stormed down the hall, until they reached his office and he bundled her inside. He didn’t bother locking the door behind him as he had his hands all over Toshi, he just kicked it closed.

He went straight for his desk and shoved everything off it in one large swoop of his arm, not caring that his papers scattered to the floor and ink splattered everywhere.

Toshi quickly found herself folded over his desk, her cheek was pressed against the wood and she felt bits of spilled ink seep onto her skin. Though she found she didn’t care and had other things to think about, as Severus used his wand to remove her clothes in an instant, making her gasp.

She did attempt to lean up, but Severus put his hand at the back of her neck and forced her back down.

‘You will do as you’re told.’ He barked at her, then, using his wand he began spanking the back of her thighs.

Toshi gasped and moaned with every strike, even as he got higher and began spanking her ass with it. It stung like hell, biting into her skin, she found she was a bit relieved when he relaced his wand with his hand, which made the pain a little more bearable… Though not by much, he had a mean swing with a lot of strength behind it.

‘Naughty girls get punished. Good girls get rewarded. Now, are you a naughty girl or a good girl?’ Severus growled into her ear as he stopped spanking her and leaned over her body.

‘Good… I can be good…’ Toshi panted, she struggled to stay still, feeling his weight against her back, his clothes rubbed against her raw ass.

‘Hmm, we shall see. You’ve certainly been naughty up till now. I don’t know if you deserve a reward. Though I know I certainly do, and you need to learn who you belong to. Not some god that thinks he’s every girls wet dream.’ Severus sneered.

There was a brief and strange cold wind that seemed to flow through the office, making them both shiver. Toshi did look up and could’ve sworn she saw a large shadow in the corner of the office. She didn’t get to dwell over it for long though, as Severus rudely shoved his hand between her thighs.

‘Jesus, you are soaking. It seems you’ve been desperate for me all this time, hmm?’ He tsked at her.

‘Please, fuck me, Sev. Please!’ Toshi whined.

Severus rapidly brought his hand down on her ass again, making her yelp. ‘What did I say about calling me that?’

‘Severus! Please!’ Toshi yelled, she began wiggling frantically in need.

‘That’s better, good girl.’ Severus purred as his fingers glided through her soaking wet folds. He felt her body tremble in response to his praise.

‘Ohh, you like being my good girl, hmm?’ He grinned. His finger began to trail over her throbbing clit, causing her to buck against his hand as she gripped the sides of his desk so tightly, her knuckles started to turn white.

‘Yes! Please... I’ll do anything.’

‘Hmm, there is so much I’d like to do to you, and have done to me by you… but right now, you need to be claimed thoroughly and properly. So there will be no more shenanigans from you and you’ll never forget who you belong to.’

Severus was saying all the right things to set Toshi’s body alight. She had never seen this side of him before, but her body was cheering in delight at the revelation.

Toshi began to see stars when he thrust two long fingers into her, twisting and curling in all the right ways to make her crumble. She didn’t expect him to make her come so soon, but he did… He enjoyed feeling her come all over his fingers, and he sucked them clean after with a moan.

‘I’d say you’re more than ready now.’

He pulled her a bit closer to the edge of his desk, for easier access for him. He flipped his cape back out of the way and undid his trousers, letting his cock spring free.

Toshi kept wiggling her ass, tempting him to hurry up as much as possible. He smirked at the sight of her, splayed out on his desk. So desperate and wet for him to take her.

He gripped her hips as he pressed his cock into her. They both closed their eyes for a moment, catching their breath… Then Severus unleashed hell on her. His fingers dug hard into her hips, leaving marks, as he pulled back until just the tip of his cock was still inside her, then he rammed back into her as far as possible.

Toshi began unashamedly moaning and whimpering as Severus fucked her roughly. The legs of the desk began to wobble and shift, neither of them cared though if it were to break.

Severus’ jaw was clenched hard as he focused on fucking her into next week. He wanted to break her, to make her completely high on his cock, a blubbering wreck… and that’s exactly what he did.

Toshi couldn’t form sentences or even think straight, she knew in the moment she definitely saw someone in the corner of the room, and was sure she even heard another lewd moan that didn’t belong to Severus… Though sounded slightly familiar. Yet, she forgot about it within seconds. All she could focus on was Severus’ cock pounding into her.

Severus let go of her hips, his nail prints were embedded in her skin, and he opted for grabbing a fistful of her hair. He tugged her head backwards as he lay himself over her more, his lips right by her ear.

‘I’m going to fill you up, make sure that every step back to your room you take, you will feel me inside you, trickling down your thighs. You’re mine, and you’re my date tomorrow night.’ He growled ferally as he thrust deep and held himself there as he came inside her.

That set Toshi off like a rocket, too. She clamped down hard around his cock, like her body was trying to milk everything out of him. They were both panting hard and a sweaty mess as Severus collapsed on top of her, though she found she enjoyed feeling the weight of him pin her down. Even if the edge of the desk was digging into her abdomen, she would’ve stayed there all night if he wanted her to.

‘Holy… fuck…’ Toshi gasped after a while.

Severus chuckled and kissed her shoulder as he forced himself up off her. He gently helped her to her feet and turned her around, her face was flushed and grew even redder when she saw Severus eye up her body hungrily. She looked down and saw his cock starting to harden again already.

‘I think we should take this to my room.’ Severus hummed as he stepped in closer to her and held her chin to kiss her.

Toshi moaned in response and nodded in agreement.

Neither of them noticed the flash of green from the corner of his office as they left…

-

The following night at the dance, Toshi was delighted to be on Severus’ arm for the duration. He barely moved away from her the entire time, dancing with her and keeping her company.

They both noticed Loki with a woman on his arm, an ex-student who was training to become a teacher at Hogwarts. Loki noticed them both staring in wonder at how he got another date so fast.

He wandered over to them after telling the woman he’d be back shortly.

‘Nice to see that my plan worked.’ Loki grinned widely as he approached.

‘Plan?’ Toshi frowned.

Loki chuckled. ‘Did you really think I was so blind to not notice the way you two lusted after one another?’

Toshi and Severus both blushed a little bit as they glanced at each other.

‘I knew that Severus was close to bursting with jealousy, he just needed one last little push…’ Loki picked up two glasses of wine from beside Toshi. He tilted his head at them. ‘It was quite the show in your office last night, Severus.’

Severus’ face dropped and he looked furious. Loki put his finger up to stop him from saying anything.

‘I got it to happen, I had to take my reward somehow. A god has needs, too. Besides, I already had a date for tonight lined up. They don’t call me silver tongue for nothing.’ Loki winked at them and then headed back to his date. ‘You’re welcome.’ He called back to them over his shoulder.

‘So there was someone else there!’ Toshi gasped.

‘I’m going to kill him.’ Severus snarled.

Toshi couldn’t help but laugh. She put her hand on Severus’ chest and patted him. ‘To be fair, his plan did work.’

Severus sighed and glared down at her. ‘If he pulls anything like this again, can I kill him?’

‘Deal.’ Toshi nodded.

[leclerced]

Oscar is the type of guy that theoretically knows a lot because he has sisters but practically he’s freaking green so his girl has her hands full teaching him everything about girls there is to know

i love stupid oscar and his girlfriend training him to be a good boyfriend. this turned into innocent oscar too sorry not sorry!!

he put everything into racing and didn’t pay attention to any girls until he meets his current girlfriend and just knows he has to have her. he’s so awkward and doesn’t know how to flirt or anything so for a long time she doesn’t even know he likes her, they hang out allll the time but he treats her like one of the guys. then one day after like months of gaming and watching movies side by side, he finally puts his arm around her. she can feel how sweaty his palm is when it brushes her bare shoulder when she snuggles into him and he relaxes a little when she does that, knowing she wants to be closer to him like he does, but he's internally freaking out because he's never had his arm around a girl and he keeps wiping his sweaty palm on the back of the couch so she won't notice how nervous he is.

he wants to ask her on a date but doesn't know the first thing about dating so he's asking his guy friends and gets what he deems as bad advice and ends up asking her on a date then admitting he hasn't been on a date since he was fourteen and his dad supervised a date with his first girlfriend in europe, before she broke up with him because of his racing schedule not leaving time for him to go to the school dance with her. he didn’t try after that, assuming that he’d never have time to commit fully like any woman deserves. she helps him plan their first date, a picnic to a secluded park, sitting on the picnic blanket in a bed of fluffy grass along the bank of a pond. they feed each other bites of fruits and cheese. after a steamy make out session he’s suddenly shy and reserved again and she has to ask what he’s thinking before he asks if he can touch her and she’s like yeah ofc you can? your hands are on my waist rn babe. and he drifts them down to her hips and asks again, looking down at her lap because he’s too shy to look her in the eyes and she giggles and says of course he can, again, and he somehow gets even more shy and says, “you’re gonna have to show me… what to do.” he’s a very fast learner, partially because he has an excellent teacher showing him the ropes.

[calciumdeficientt]

I like your headcanons! I would like to see your headcanons about Parker and Pinky (and maybe Gord). And I would be even more pleased with headcanons about my OC Mary ^^

UUUUUUUUGH YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY i love Parker he’s my fav prep and very closely tied as my favourite student too and i never see much stuff for pinky either, I love pinky! Ill dedicate a special post to Mary, I like to give everyone’s ocs special attention :3

PARKER OGILVIE AND PINKY GAUTHIER HCS

PINKY GAUTHIER

Ladies first! And to start I think Pinky is most definitely a lady, despite how young she is. She probably had elocution lessons from very young, likely as soon as she started toddling the Gauthiers were putting books on her still yet unfused head. She prides herself on having the best table manners, vocabulary and posture of the preps but then again there’s a LOT of pressure on her. Her marriage to Derby was likely decided before Pinky was even a concept, she’s known her entire life that the plan for her is to marry her cousin and keep the family lines strong, pure and untainted by the blood of lower class outsiders. I’d find it very hard to believe that her parents put any sort of emphasis on her academic achievements, they likely want her to make good connections and thrive socially. Ever since she was very little her parents have made her plan and host her own birthday parties. The mark of a good woman is how good she is as a hostess, after all.

Pinky is very naturally graceful, so her parents sent her off to a ballet school in Belgium for the first few years of her early teens, she enjoyed the dancing but very much did not enjoy the teachers’ emphasis on her appearance when she danced. Alongside ballet, she was also taught to ballroom dance and to figure skate. Pinky can still barely stand the smell of hairspray, it reminds her too much of having her hair wrenched back into exceptionally tight, intricate styles for ballroom. She keeps on with ballet and figure skating, although she mostly tends to skate in duo competitions with Gord rather than solo, she finds them more enjoyable.

Likes to be tanned, but will never go to a tanning salon unless she’s absolutely positively desperate. Then again, she only ever gets spray tans in the salon. If she feels she’s looking a little pale or sickly, she calls her daddy. Daddy will then get her out of class for however long she likes and whisk her away somewhere nice and warm. It’s the perfect arrangement.

Despite my first headcanon, i do think that pinky has still retained a good amount of her inner child. She loves the carnival, and will beg anyone and everyone to take there. If not to go on the rides, to gawk at all the poor people. Like gord, she admires them, but unlike gord she really relishes in their sense of fun. The carnival is trivial in terms of amusement for her when at the snap of her fingers she could own every single six flags in the country. Or have a waterslide built into the walls of her room right down into the Olympic sized pool the Gauthiers have in their yard. Pinky likes those that are outside her social circle because they’re so carefree, they can use what little money they have in their pockets to shoot empty tequila bottles with an airsoft rifle and win little tickets and they have FUN doing it! Now that is cool.

Pinky is quick to love, she makes connections easily because she’s been so deprived of interaction in her younger years. Her parents, more specifically her father, kept her locked in an ivory tower on their estate for as long as humanly possible lest she get any ideas above her station. Pinky is most definitely a girls girl, she likes doing girly stuff and in a clique choc full of boys she finds it hard to fully connect with the preps beyond anything highly superficial. She tries to plan girls days out as often as possible and she pays for literally everything, mani-pedis, new outfits, breakfast lunch and dinner. Pinky just likes being a girly girl, and when she’s around other girls her age she really thrives.

PARKER OGILVIE

Parker is just the sweetest person in the universe. You could not get me to say a bad word about Parker if my life depended on it. I think he’s a very happy go lucky guy, and definitely the person you want to go to if you’re feeling a little bit blue (aquaberry blue or otherwise) because he’s just so sunny! No one really knows how he manages to stay so positive all the time, maybe its because of all the inbreeding but he could be having the worst day that any human in the history of the world could have ever experienced and he’d still be basically skipping around school whistling like a 1940’s Disney character.

He tires to act all ruthless and cold hearted to fit in better with the preps but he’s such a huge softie, he just can’t help but show it, even if it makes him feel guilty (like the voice lines about the beggar). Parker wears his heart on his sleeve, he’s pretty easy to read, which by proxy makes him easy to manipulate. He forms strong bonds quickly and gets his heart broken a lot. He just wants to be loved in the same way he loves everyone else, he still hasn’t quite realised that a man of his station can’t love so freely.

The gnome thing started when he was a little kid. Every kid has their comfort item, his just happened to be an antique garden gnome. He took gnomey with him everywhere, to school, to bed, to cotillions. Everywhere. Once his parents found out his tantrums could be satiated with gnomes, his collection only grew. When his sister was born, he was given a small collection of gnomes by his parents a little gnome family painted to look like the Ogilvies, with a card stating that they were actually a special gift from his newborn sister. This made the transition from only child to older brother just a little bit smoother. In hindsight, his parents could have tried to wean him off of the gnomes, more specifically his nasty habit of talking openly with them, but they saw Parker wasn’t showing any other sins of stunted development or impaired neurological function like they had seen with many of their other old-money friends’ kids, so simply let him keep chatting away to the gnomes.

He’s got quite the knack for gardening, but fears he’ll be kicked out of the clique if he continues to get caught elbow deep in potting soil, so he opts to hire help in the form of other students. He gives them detailed instructions on everything, from pruning, to watering to propagation but always seems to find himself in the greenhouse at dead of night with a head torch on, cleaning up their shoddy work. Tad sometimes comes to help him, and they have a little secret corner of the greenhouse that they grow seasonal flowers in. If Parker likes them enough, he’ll cut of the best ones and make bouquets for his dates. He’s been turned down so many times though, that he’s starting to run out of flowers.

Has the most gorgeous, pin straight hair ever. Much to the despair of other preps (COGUH gordCOUGH) that have to rely on hair straighteners and countless extremely expensive styling products to keep their hair looking fabulous and up to par. Parker is usually good to go as soon as he’s out of bed. Just a light brushing to alleviate tangles and brush his hair into place and he’s flyaway free and good to go. The only time he ever touches his hair with products is days he knows he’s got big events, or will be doing a lot of strenuous exercise. He uses styling wax and hairspray SPARINGLY on those days to make sure his hair stays at its very best.

[13as07]

Shogi Partner #2

(Shikamaru Nara Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Pixiv Id]

Requested by: @thenightperson

Word Count: 4,153

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Name Calling: Fawn, Sensei

Age Gap (Younger Woman/Older Man)

Power Imbalance (Teacher/Student)

Titty Fondling

Fingering

Borderline Pedophilia

Cheating

I think ima do a prequel

———————————————————————

     "The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout." It feels like all my bodily functions have frozen, besides my heart at least, which is pounding against my chest like it's trying to escape. "Down came the rain and washed the spider out." My Fawn is sat crisscrossed on the carpet, her fingers wiggling and falling downward to mimic rain. "Out came the sun and dried up all the rain." Inojin, Ino's son, is sitting in her lap, clinging to her wrists as he watches her play out the lullaby. "So, the itsy bitsy spider crawled up the spout again."

     Inojin says something, his words soft enough that I can't catch what he's asking. For once, I'm upset he didn't inherit his mother's loud mouth. Whatever he said made my Fawn laugh, the sound giving my pounding heart a power up to slam itself harder.

     My Fawn stands up, child in arm as she settles on her feet. Inojin is moved in her arms, positioned more comfortably as he lunges forward, fisting her hair. "You are my sunshine," she starts humming, swaying them in slow circles. "My only sunshine. You make me happy when the skies are grey." My fingers twitch as I watch her dance with my nephew. Twitch to snatch him out of her arms and place Shikadai there instead. To watch her dance with and sing to my son, not Ino's. "You'll never know dear, how much I love you. So, please - "

     She stops, a gentle giggle replacing her sing-song tone. "Good job, Little One," she coos, peppering kisses across Inojin's cheeks. The side door opening catches my Fawn's attention, her arms tightening around my nephew as she turns to peek at who's entering.

     My eyes snap to the side as well, catching a glimpse of Ino, before they're back on my Fawn. She's oozing joyfulness and sunshine to the point I'm almost convinced she is the sun. They exchange 'thank you's and 'you're welcome's before Inojin is taken from her arms and whisked away by his mother, off to explore a different section of the preschool.

The pounding of my heart stops; the organ is barely there when my Fawn turns back around. Her eyes land on me, the sunshine radiating off of her being snuffed out the instant she sees me.

"Are you alright?" Temari asks, pulling my attention away from my student for a moment. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," I mutter, snapping my eyes back to my student. She's back to being sunshine and rainbows as if she never saw me. Choji has been wrapped into my Fawn's bubble, his wife, Karui, looking stressed as she rattles off about their daughter.

I'm not surprised to see her, after all, it is a Namiashi-owned Preschool, run by her clan's Chieftess, centered around the future generations of Shinobis. Only the children of the highest-ranking Shinobis gain enrollment. Hence why so many of my comrades are here instead of enrolling their children in the preschools of their clans. Hence why Temari was so set on Shikadai going here since I 'insist we keep our roots in the Leaf Village'.

     "I'm going to greet Choji," I tell my wife, snatching Shikadai from the ground before beelining toward my Fawn.

Temari looks after me, a mix of disgust and surprise on her face. My student doesn't think of my best friend in disgust. My student respects my friends, and adores their children, obviously. She rambles on about Ino's accomplishments as a kunoichi and the respect she has for Choji's clan all the time. My wife can't even control her facial expressions when I mention my friends.

My stomach twists the closer I get to the small group, threatening to turn up my dinner. I don't know why. I'm just greeting my friend, who happens to be talking to my Fawn.

My Fawn, who was in tears the last time I saw her.

My Fawn, who was so excited to get the attention she'd been craving from me, just for me to turn her away a second later.

My Fawn, who I haven't seen in so long that it can't just be a coincidence anymore.

My Fawn, who did what I asked and sent her father to speak to me the next day.

My Fawn, who doesn't know she's still technically my student. All because I rambled on about her achievements within the last year. All because I couldn't stomach telling her father that I threw up the second his daughter left my office the day before. All because I can't stomach the fact or reaction Raido would have knowing I took advantage of the admiration his daughter has for me all in the name of sexual tension and lust. The tension was brought forth because of my marriage issues, not because of my student.

"Hi," I bark once I'm in front of the group, my self-control just as wrecked as my volume control. Even Shikadai reacts, covering his ears.

My student tenses the second she sees me, her fingers clinging to Choji's bicep a little harder. Why in the world is my student touching him? Why is he letting her touch him? Why isn't Karui threatening to beat her ass? Can't the world see why she shouldn't be anywhere near my friends? I don't have the self-control to watch her mingle with them, with their kids, with my kid.

"Hey," Choji returns my greeting, eyes wide and slowly blinking as he looks me over. "Are you okay?" He slowly asks, sight dropping down my body like he's looking for a stab wound.

"Ya... I'm... ya. Namiashi-Chan?" I can feel my dinner in my throat when my Fawn flinches from her name on my tongue. "Where's your father?"

"Last I knew his dick was down your throat, so you'd know better than me," she snaps, releasing my friend from her death grip before turning toward his wife.

     I watch her, my eyes trailing on her form as I think over the insult. From a reaction like that, I take it Raido told my Fawn about our meeting and she did not take that news well. From her father's anbu tags still wrapped around her neck, dangling on her chest, I worry about a possible reaction she's going to make me have.

     Choji rattles on about whatever, small talk and the stress of preschool, probably. I barely listen, my full attention on my Fawn as she answers Karui's never-ending questions. She's dressed cute today, appropriately, sadly, but still adorable. A mute top and a floral skirt that falls just above her knees. A whisk of skin showing between the two. A whisk of skin just large enough to trail my tongue over.

     I'm reminded of my dinner again, sloshing around in my stomach, my sick feeling fueled by disgust with myself. I'm completely convinced I'll be sick on the daycare floor when the thought of sliding my hand under my Fawn's skirt keeps whirling through my thoughts.

     "Do you need to go outside for a smoke?" Choji asks, eyes flickering between my student and me. "You look pale."

     "Ya."

————————————

The moon is grossly dull tonight. Like the sun doesn't respect it enough to give it any light of day. Like how my Fawn doesn't respect me enough to give me any light of day.

     Half a puff is sucked from my dying cigarette, the second one since Choji went back inside to finish helping Karui with Chocho's orientation. Of course, not before trying to yank what's wrong out of me. I can't tell him what's going on.

     I can't tell anyone about my obsessive behaviors surrounding my student recently. What use would it be? It would just bring issues. Issues for me, my marriage, my son. Issues for my student, for her family just as much as mine. I need to figure out how to get this under control. Figure out how to get rid of it. My Fawn is a baby. One I've known for years. One that just became an adult.

     Five years isn't a terrible age gap, but it is. We were twelve and seventeen. That's not appropriate. Even now, eight and twenty-three isn't the best. Twenty and twenty-five aren't bad though. Nor is twenty-five and thirty... What am I thinking? She's my student. I'm her teacher. She's a baby.

     An annoyed sigh spills from me as I rub my hands down my face. This shouldn't be a thought, let alone a self-debate. The answer is no. I'm married. I have a child. She's barely not a child anymore... but I was eighteen when I got married, and nineteen when my son was born. No!

     I yank my pack out of my pocket, set on having another cigarette to try and take the edge off before I go back inside. I've already been out here too long. Temari is probably fuming and I've missed enough of Shikadai's orientation. One more smoke and then I'm pushing this issue down and focusing on being a good dad.

     The back door creaks as I settle my cigarette between my lips. The noise catches my attention, my eyes glancing to the side as I light the end of the stick. The stick almost falls from my mouth when a floral skirt slides through the corner of my sight.

"Ya, all the doors are pin pad secured and hooked to an external power source for an extra layer of security," my Fawn's voice lingers on as she presses herself against the door, propping it open as Naruto and Hinata wander outside.

"That sounds pretty fancy," Naruto chuckles, his eyes locked on their son as Hinata's stay set on him. It makes me envious, seeing how they're still so much in love. Why aren't Temari and me like that? Where did I go wrong?

     "We'll see you Monday," Hianta tells my Fawn, never pulling her focus away from her two boys.

     "Oh, no," my student corrects, sending our Hokage and his family a loose smile. "I don't work for the preschool. I'm on active duty. I'm just here as an extra set of hands."

     "Well, then I'm sure I'll see you coming or going," Naruto mutters, already walking away from her, his wife tucked tightly into his side and his son perched on his shoulders.

     "Of course, Lord Seventh," my Fawn replies, bowing her head as they walk past her. It's good to know at least one of us has our morals because I don't. It's easier to deny when she's not standing in front of me. It's easier to reason when I can't see her, smell her, hear her. I was her age when I got married, so it can't be too bad of a situation, can it?

     I race forward when she turns to go back inside and manage to grip her elbow to tug her back before she's too far out of reach. "Shikamaru," she hisses, body tense and a glare glued on her face. A glare aimed at the door that clicks closed, instead of blessing me with it. My tempting student still refuses to give me the light of day.

     "Namiashi-Chan," I whisper, slowly inching forward. I don't stop moving until her elbow, still cupped in my hand, is pressed into my side and my chest is pressed into her back. My Fawn tenses because of our close quarters, her glare depending as it burns into the metal door. "We should talk."

     "I don't have anything to say to you."

     "But I have plenty to say to you," I murmur, daring to brush my fingers against the cloth covering her thighs. It's soft, made of cotton, and encourages her scent to fill the space between us. A ripple slides through my Fawn's body, disrupting her hardness before it is present again. How cute, she's trying to stay mad at me, but her admiration for me still shines through. "Do you know why I've been cautious about what happened between us?"

     "Because you're married."

     "And?" I mutter, trailing my fingertips up her skirt, enjoying the next ripple that makes her spine curve.

     "Because you have a son."

     "And?" I repeat, taking my time to enjoy the gap between her skirt and her shirt, soaking in the warmth of her skin.

     "Because you're older than me; because you were already an adult when we met."

     I can't help the curving of my mouth. What a smart girl. What a selfish girl. Well aware of my thought process and yet, still so angry with me. My grin deepens when my touch trails to her back, racing between her shoulder blades to slide against her neck. I can't help the euphoria I feel when my Fawn's breath is sucked in just a smidge rougher than before. "And?"

     She stays quiet, her breaths getting shallower when I drop my hand to her waist and lean forward, exhaling so the air from my lungs brushes against her sensitive throat. "I... I don't know."

     "Because I'm your Sensei," I answer for her, daring to lower my head even more so my lips can tease the skin of her neck. Not quite a kiss, but nothing else either. "I'm your Sensei," I repeat, inching upward, leaving my mouth hovering as I trail around. "I couldn't bear the thought of someone else being your Sensei. Someone else helping you train. Someone else sitting with you at a shogi board. Someone else being your shogi partner. Do you understand that, my pretty little Fawn?"

     "Under... understand...?"

     I finally give in, brushing a kiss against the edge of her jawline to the dip of her neck. "Do you understand how those thoughts made me feel?" I ask, sliding more kisses against her throat as my hand lets go of her elbow. My touch is only away from her long enough to settle on her waist, my fingertips quickly poking under the hem of her short little shirt. "How many times in the past week I've thought about the feeling of your breast in my hand? How many times I've thought about those dangling little tags you use to tempt me? How many times I've stopped myself from calling your name while enjoying my wife?"

     "This is unprofessional, Shikamaru," she scolds, the airiness my kisses were gifting melted out of her voice. "Your wife and son are inside. If you're going to be a drag of a Sensei, you can at least be a good father. A good husband."

     My smile only deepens from the insult. My cute little Fawn, using my words against me. "Let me apologize for being a 'a drag of a Sensei' then," I murmur, sliding my hand against her. I inch my fingers further up her shirt, stopping their trip when I feel the lace of her bra under my touch. "It's the least I can do, Fawn."

     "Sensei," she calls, her hands falling to her stomach. One rests in the center of her waist, the other laid on top of my hand. My fingers jerk upward, finding their way between hers before locking around them.

     Not so headstrong now, are we, little Fawn? No, you're not. I've barely touched you and you're already falling apart.

     I softly hum in acknowledgment, widening my mouth to suck on her skin. I wiggle my way under the band of her bra, a ripple racing through me when my fingertips graze her breast. "What is it that you need, my little Fawn? Tell your Sensei what you need," I order, my hand shaking with the restraint to move slowly, keeping my tempo as my hand slides up to cup her boob.

     "You... you're... you can't..."

     "Tell me to stop and I will. Four letters. That's all it takes," I tell her, squeezing her flesh in my grasp, letting her boob melt between my fingers. It's warm, like I remember. Like I've been craving the whole week since I first got to enjoy it. "Tell me to stop," I order, tightening my grip on her fingers before tailing our knotted hands across her belly before pulling them down.

     "I... I..."

     "Want me to stop?" My fingers hook on her skirt, slowly pulling it up her legs. "Or maybe you want to accept my apology? Which will it be, Fawn?" I ask, jerking our hands down when her skirt is pulled far enough up. "Tell me what you want."

     My Fawn's chest pumps faster as I slide my fingertips against her panties, my touch finding an already present damp spot. I fall quiet, focused on her nerves as I wait for an answer. My mouth cups her throat, sucking on her skin with the plan to leave my mark behind. The hand buried under her shirt finds her nipple, tugging on it to encourage a whimper to fall loose from her legs. Our hands knifed and buried between her legs stay pressed against her, gentle circles being laid against the proof of her wetness.

     Pitched attempts at words spill from my student. Her fingers tighten against mine and the hand on her stomach jumps up to cling to my wrist pressed against her rib cage. "Sen... Sensei... Sensei," she whines, her call on me on repeat, not that I mind. It's my new favorite song. One I'd happily listen to forever.

     "That's not an answer, Fawn," I murmur, shoving my nose into her neck. I get what I want, her head tipped to the side and more room to bruise her skin.

     "Shikamaru." My hips jerk at the sound of my name on her lips, my ignored boner rubbing against her ass. My hand grips her boob again, squeezing it as whispered hopes of my fingerprints being left behind fight for room in my mind. "Please?"

     "Fuck," I groan into her neck, grinding against her add harder. I jerk her panties to the side, keeping a strong hold on her hand as two of my fingers loosen for the knot. "You say my name so beautiful, Fawn."

     Her fingernails dig into my wrist when I start rubbing circles against her clit, egging me on even more. Yes, little Fawn, leave your mark too. Punish your Sensei for being a bad man, for treating you so poorly. Make me beg for your forgiveness.

     "I'm sorry, Fawn," I whisper into her ear, sliding our hands down so my fingertips can tease her pussy that clenches in protest. "Sensei is so sorry for pushing you away, for trying to get rid of you."

     "You're mean."

     "I know," I mutter, latching my mouth around a sliver of skin again, brutally sucking on it. I want her littered in my hickeys. I want it to be impossible for her to hide them. I want every man in the village to see them as they admire those annoyingly dangled tags she wears every day. "Let me make it up to you, Fawn."

     The shaky moan that melts off her lips is almost enough to make me bust. The feeling of her pussy clinging to my fingers as I push them in doesn't do anything to help. "I hate you," my Fawn whimpers, her head lulling before resting against my shoulder.

     The lack of access to her neck annoys me, but her hips jerking to push my fingers deeper into her cunt makes up for it. "I know," I whisper, focusing my kisses against her cheek. I curl my fingers, getting another jerk of her hips and my dick to twitch in need. I deserve this, my needs ignored, being driven crazy with the want to feel her pussy wrapped around my cock instead of my fingers.

     The slow drag of my fingers out of her before thrusting them back in gets me a moan and hooded eyes. The faster my fingers move inside her, the whiner her moans get, and the more desperate for relief is what I get. I deserve this. My Fawn deserves this. This is how it's going to stay.

     "Shikamaru," she whines, her legs shaking with the quickly ending timer until her orgasm.

     "Forgive me, Fawn," I whisper into her ear, trying my hardest to keep my movements the exact same. "Tell me you forgive me. Tell your Sensei you forgive him."

     "You don't deserve my forgiveness."

     My jaw clenches at her words, partly because they're right, and partly because they anger my dick even more. I want to be buried in her, desperate to cum as I beg for forgiveness, told I don't get to cum until I get it. I want her to forgive me now. I want her to never forgive me. I want my Fawn hunched over my desk with her pussy leaking my cum. I want my Fawn to tell me I'm never allowed to touch her again after this. I want everything and nothing from her, all at once.

     "Shikamaru!" She calls for me, her cunt clenching as she comes undone. My Fawn doesn't deserve to cum while I'm still locked away behind my zipper. She doesn't deserve to soak our hands in her slick. And yet, she deserves having me graveling at her feet, begging to touch her, to taste her, to fuck her.

     I gently hush her, slowing the pace of my fingers thrusting in and out of her. I coat her face in kisses, dropping my hand away from her chest to gently rub her stomach. "You're so pretty, Fawn. You did such a good job. Do you feel better?"

     "I feel dirty," she whispers, the bliss of orgasm quickly being washed away by regret. My Fawn straightens herself, yanking her hand out of mine. My eyes follow her movements, watching the dragging minutes of her straightening herself.

     My Fawn fixes her skirt before running her not-soaked hand through her hair. After an eternity of tense silence, she slowly turns around, finally facing me, finally giving me the time of day, and yet, I couldn't feel any worse if I tried. "You didn't tell my Dad you're stepping down as my Sensei."

     "Well, that's because - "

     "I'm not done talking," my Fawn cuts me off, raising her hand in a stop. "If you don't want to step down, fine, I can't make you, but this," she motions between the two of us, her face blank and empty. The same look she has while she's trying to think her way through a game of shogi. "Isn't happen again. You're married. You have a son. I have no interest in being a mistress and honestly, you're not worth my time."

     This is a serious conversation, one that we need to have, and yet all I can think about is laying her out in my bed. All I can feel is the twitch of my dick, the body part having a mind of its own and a growing want to get wet the longer my student degrades me.

     "We're not doing this again."

     "Okay," I murmur, shoving my hands into my pockets.

     My Fawn steps forward, making me way more excited than I should be. Her fingertips grip my shirt, using it to wipe her juices off her fingertips. Thoughts of shoving my face into my shirt as I relieve myself later play on repeat in my mind. It makes me feel dirty and yet it makes my balls hurt more.

     "I'm not going to let you make me feel like a dirty secret."

     I can't help the heat raking up my spine, caused by the glare on my student's face. Damn right, Fawn. Tell me what to do. Tell me what not to do. Tell me I'm a bad man. Keep telling me I'm not worth you. Step on me and tell me I'm not even worth the dirt on your shoes.

     I need help. Life would be so much easier if I was a cloud.

     "Okay," I repeat, quickly blinking to try and wash all my thoughts from my mind. My student stays put for a second, searching my face as a glimpse of uncertainty flickers across her expression. Don't do that, Fawn. Don't be uncertain. Tell me to jump and I'll jump. Tell me to bark and I'll bark. Tell me to never talk to you again and I won't.

     I really need help. I shouldn't feel like this over her. I should have walked away the first time this feeling bubbled up. Yet, I didn't. I let it play out. It's my fault we're in this situation. My Fawn made my heart flutter and I ran into Temari's arms because I thought it was more acceptable, because I thought I was confused. I'm a terrible man.

     "I'll see you tomorrow, Sensei," My Fawn whispers, stepping backward.

     "Tomorrow?"

     "We have a shogi game to finish, don't we?"

     "Ya."

     I got my shogi partner back, but at what cost?

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

[merci-bitch]

please a melissa a nsfw alphabet !!

I’m assuming that you meant Melissa from Abbott Elementary and I would love to! Haha. Gotta love a fiery redhead. Now reading @multimilfs ‘s Melissa fics got me cooking. They write wonderfully and if you haven’t checked their stories out, you definitely should. It’s worth it! Slay bestie 👌🏻

Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader

NSFW Alphabet

warning(s): smut obviously, it’s Melissa in her dangerous habitat

Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Well, to be fair. She might look firey and tough on the outside but Melissa is 100% passion and 100% heart. She cares so much for you, and for the kids at school. And after Joe, she’s always scared it’s going to end up the same way.

But Mel would be good with it, always. She’d force you to drink water, perhaps even have a small bite to eat. If you’ve done something particularly rough, she’d massage your legs and thighs if they cramp.

You of course would do the same for her. Specially the massages. Lay her on her stomach and just do her whole back, legs, everything. She works hard everyday with the kids, and just needs a moment to relax. You get her.

- Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Spicy Mama.

Melissa knows you have an eyesight for her hips. I mean, who wouldn’t ??

She knows she’s an attractive woman and she uses that against you sometimes. Her large chest and her arse in leather pants? You’re done for it.

As I said, she’s 100% heart and passion, but that doesn’t stop her from liking the little things about you. Your freckles if you have them, your hands. She specifically likes your hands…👀 

- Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…)

Loves filthy kisses after she’d sat on your face. Or the other way around.  

- Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

If you’re another teacher at Abbott, and you ride in together, but if you’ve had a rather good morning. She can’t help but send you knowing glares and lingering touches. Who knows what would happen after the children have gone home?…

- Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Melissa knows what she’s doing. She’s been with men and women.

And if you haven’t been with a woman before, Melissa is of course a bit shocked, but she will gladly help you along the way. Sex shouldn’t be embarrassing to talk about. She will be there for you, and will take it in your pace. Whenever you’re ready.  

- Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Melissa likes to be between your legs. The clawing at her hair sometimes drives her crazy. And you just taste divine.

That said, she wouldn’t complain if you went down on her. She’s taught you well. If you ya know what I mean…👀

- Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Since Melissa wants it to be as comfortable as possible I think she will let in a laugh or two. Perhaps stop in between to just lay with you. Stroke your cheek, make you all blushy before continuing.

- Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I don’t think she really cares that much, but she keeps it trimmed.

- Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Melissa is a 100% heart and passion and a south Philly/Sicilian. She knows her way around the kitchen and knows how dance. Of course she’s gonna set something romantic up. Perhaps an anniversary dinner, your favourite meal. Some wine. Candlelit perhaps. And moving to the living room for slow dancing, oml. Yes please.

She loves you, and wants you to know that. She may not say those three words that often but she wants you to know that she loves you either way. She says it in her actions. By making you lunch, or helping yoh grade papers.

- Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Of course girl does it. It’s normal. And when you ain’t around? It’s a nice stress relief.

- Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Wouldn’t say she’s that kinky, but that doesn’t stop her,

Orgasm denial, praise kink, edging, roleplay?, spanking(more playfully) hair pulling

- Location (Favourite places to do the do)

She prefers her own house. Her own place where she can have you where ever she wants without interruptions. It’s her house, she can do whatever the fuck she wants, and that’s you.

The bed is always most comfortable. Shower in the mornings before work. She’d always said kitchen is off limits. But one time, girl just couldn’t help herself.

- Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

I think, you would quite worked up just seeing that glint in her eyes. That mischievous glint she sometimes has. When you know she’s up to no good. She often sends it your way. Knows the effect it has on you. Whenever she wears her famous black leather pants. You’re done for it. It patches her curves so well. You’re sure she was made by the gods themselves.

Now, I wouldn’t say Melissa is a possessive type but she does get quite protective. Perhaps a little jealous at times. You could be at her cousin Annette’s for dinner. Perhaps someone makes a comment on how good you look, and she just tightens her grip on you. It depends on her mood. If she’s had a good day or a bad day.

- NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Doing something around the kids. Or heavy PDA around the kids. Nothing like that at all. Don’t think she’d like anal either. She wouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t like.  

- Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

She loves the look in your eyes when she goes down on you. When you’re completely helpless to her touch. It’s one of her favourite things.

- Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on her mood, but it’s usally in between both rough and gentle. But sometimes, mama spicy becomes a little too teasing for your taste.

- Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Mhm, not sure. It wouldn’t happen in school with the kids around. Or Janine in the position to catch you. And it wouldn’t be quickies if you ask for it at home. She would deny you teasingly and make you wait for the real thing.

Although if you’re out at a bar with the teachers, and drinks are flying even though some might not look like drinkers. Barbra being the Christian woman she is, just watches on by with a smile. Who knows if you and Melissa might disappear into the bathrooms 🤷🏼‍♀️

Of course Barbra knows. She sees the look in Melissa’s eyes afterwards. A teasing smile on her lips.

- Risks (game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

I mean she does take risks, but at a certain level. It depends on what it is.  

- Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Girl can last a long time. She loves the look in your face. Completely covered in sweat, perhaps happy tears. The smell of sex in the air. What a way to end the day.

- Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Course she got them. Her bottom drawer in her nightstand has a few to pick from. She’s got a few vibrators as well. As she said herself, technology is good for when you haven’t been with a man in a while. Or you, in this case.

- Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She’s a teasing woman. But mostly it happens behind her own doors. But again, wouldn’t stop her from sending that mischievous glare your way. That smirk of hers? Boy.  

- Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Melissa is loud, but I wouldn’t say she’s a screamer. She knows what feels good and makes you know you treat her well.

She will make you scream though. If you’re a quiet type. She loves trying to get more and more sounds out of you. Praising you for being such a good girl.

- Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Melissa is a wild one in general. She knows a guy who knows a guy. And in her younger days she might have had sex a little all over the place, now she mostly prefers her own home.

However you make her feel young again in a way. Not just because you’re younger than her, but because of your energy. Your aura just brings her happiness and if you suddenly suggest something wild. Who’s to say she wouldn’t try it?

- X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Just normal underwear, perhaps black lace. Unless she’s feeling frisky one evening. She’s got a silk robe. Maybe she has something under it and maybe she doesn’t…

- Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s fairly normal. Although, if we say you’d never been with a woman before and slowly works you up. You get quite obsessed with this new feeling. Barbra noticing the change in Melissa. How she suddenly seems more relaxed than usual. Melissa just giving her a smirk before turning back to her own lunch.

- ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You sometimes both lay awake and just talk. Sharing small laughs here and there. She’d kiss your forehead and your nose, before giving you a final goodnight kiss. Giving you a smile before you snuggle up to her. Wrapping her arms around you, making sure you’re alright before going to sleep herself.

[raayllum]

"My mom used to do that." for claudiez 👀

as always they're in their 20s... Plus send me a number with a ship and i'll write it &lt;3 accepted ships are tdp canon ships + rarepairs (claudiez, sopreli, corvus/terry, sorvus)

There's very little that Ezran remembers about Sarai.

He remembers the warmth of her smile, he thinks. The softness of her hair in his chubby little hands. But beyond that, there's not much else—too recently weaned before her death for more than stories he's heard to take hold, and even then, it feels like every year Harrow (until he couldn't) and Callum, or even Aunt Amaya, would bring up something new, something small, that they remembered, and he was learning it for the first time.

Mom always wore little gold beads in her hair.

Those were her favourite pair of earrings.

She planned out the castle gardens, with those hedges over there.

Soren, even, citing that she was his first sword-fighting teacher back when she'd been captain of the guard, before she and Ez's dad had fallen in love.

Her birthday is always hard, an added winter chill growing throughout the castle. Ezran ensures more fires are lit, and Claudia enchants little glass jars of orange light with her Sun primal, for people to carry in their pockets to keep them warm. He dons his more heavily furred royal cape and keeps Bait close while he writes letters to his brother and Rayla in Xadia, climbing the cold steps up to the rookery to send them.

Claudia joins him more often than not in his study, to save on candles, she says, as they do their work long into the night, but Ezran thinks she just likes his company, his heart doing a hopeful little dance in his chest. He steals glances at her atop the rim of candlelight dancing in her green eyes, now with that spark of light in them that'd been gone for so long during the war. After the war, too.

"You know," he begins, when they're heading to the study after lunch, "we could go to the library. The fireplace there is warmer. There's more comfortable chairs."

We used to always sit up in the library when it got cold, his dad had said, and Callum would play on the floor with you in your mom's lap.

Claudia thinks for a moment, then grins adorably. "Why not?" she says.

They settle in with tea and jelly tarts as an extra bonus, Claudia easing off her prosthetic and letting her stump be close to the fire; Ezran knows the cold makes the phantom pains worse this time of year. (Terry still sends over a herbal remedy that helps with it from where he's set up an apothecary on the border of Del Bar and Katolis with Corvus.)

More of her dyed black hair falls in front of her ears while she works, making notes on charts for what magical goods will be imported once the ice melts, and Claudia pushes it back impatiently until she sits back and begins braiding it. It's still shorter than it was in their teens, no longer all the way down her back, but long enough to braid as she starts the process, fingers jolting.

Dark magic took a lot from her, but one of the things it left was permanent nerve damage in her hands. (The cold makes that worse, too.)

"My mom used to do that," Ez half-remembers, half-recalls. Another story about the differences from their royal portrait—the one real non-Callum produced picture of their mother he has, the way he pictures her in his mind's eye—and how she'd worn her hair in a braid just as often loose or in a bun.

Claudia smiles then, softly. "She did. She's actually the one who taught me, after..." Lissa, another woman Ezran has never really met, isn't a wound anymore, but it's still hard during this time of year. "After my mom left and I grew my hair out."

Ezran sets aside his letter to an Evenerean diplomat, rising when she struggles again. "I can do that for you, if you like."

"Oh. You don't—"

He steps around easily to stand behind her armchair. "Let me?"

Claudia turns to the front fully, exhaling. "Alright."

He gathers her hair gently, hands confident due to the way his father had shown him him growing up, but styled a bit more the way Moonshadows do their braids, like how Rayla had demonstrated. For love and affection, she'd said, having small, long ones tucked away behind thicker locks for each of them—Callum and Ez and Soren, her boys, and then for each of her parents.

"There," Ezran says, finishing. He takes off his cape too for good measure, and drapes it across her shoulders. Claudia is looking at him wide-eyed when he walks back around to face her, and he passes a hand self-consciously over the patch of hair he's growing on his chin.

"Thank you," she says at least, tugging his cape further over her shoulder. The royal red brings out the green of her eyes and black of her hair. It suits her.

"Don't mention it," Ezran says, sitting again. They catch each other's eye, briefly, and share a smile, before she blushes a bit and looks away.

He feels warm for the first time all day.

[lil-melody-moon]

Hello dear 👋🏻👋🏻 how its going? Has your uni situation got better? For this weekend question:

Since your big love towards drummers (you know about Lars, Nicko, Keith, Bonham ecc...) I was wondering, can you describe whats so special about them? Like in terms of ability, style, and the personal influence that they had on you😄 and why so you like that instrument so much? you can make a list of your favourites if you want❤️

(Hope that this is clear🫣)

Hello!

It's going somehow good, I could rest this weekend, like yay! After two weeks of constant working!

The uni situation got better, I have the worst week behind me, but I still have two big tests and then exams *sobs*

*looks at the question* Oh God girl, you are up for a motherfucking essay...

Okay, I will tackle it this way. I will first answer on the question why I like drums so much.

This is a very simple story. My only real and first experience with music was in preschool. We had those music lessons with one older teacher, she was a very nice, older woman. We either had dancing, singing or playing with instruments, the third being most rare. I know I once or twice got my tiny hands on a simple drum, a tiny one, but I loved playing it. I didn't want to give it away, I wanted to drum - was so sad when I couldn't get it tho, but I was so glad for those two times! I remember I told my mom about it, I probably was hoping that she will catch the hint that hey, I love that instrument, can I drum? But that didn't happen and here I am, grinning like an idiot whenever I see a drum set - my friend, who works in choir sends me pics if she sees a drum set or the big big drum the ones used in orchestra (gosh I love the big BOOM of them, aaaaa!). I have that one dream and it's being able to somehow play the drums one day - if I don't find anyone, which is very likely, I'll keep living with parents, get a job in the next year, try to find a place for eventual drum set and buy it, later wondering how the fuck should I carry it around XD

And now to the drummers! I think I'll make a list of like 10 drummers and try to describe them - I will show their drum sets, of course I will show those beauties!

No. 10 - Lars Ulrich

I don't listen to Metallica at all right now, but I can't just ignore the guy, even when I heard Metallica after listening to The Who and was like: "Damn, Lars, you ain't nothing special" XD So he's always closing up the list, because I have to mention him. He was the one who made me notice drumming once more, I'll say even more, the one who made me realize that I like to hear drums. I heard him play back in 2009, so I was 11 years old and you know, you kind of don't realize a lot of things at this age, but damn does the drumming in "All Nightmare Long" kicked me in my face. Soft drumming just to make it FUCKING LOUD, not the fastest of his, but very powerful and most of all, it's louder than that fucking guitar, like yes, this is how it's suppose to be guys! But the favorite stays and will stay for all eternity, fucking "Dyers Eve". Rough drumming at the beginning, long intro, drumming slowing down just to go FUCKING NUTS THE REST OF THE WAY. I actually listen to the song I'll mention and now I'm listening to Dyers Even and I can hear those two bass drums and like only now I realize how someone else influenced my style. Here's the beauty Lars plays on:

No. 9 - Rick Allen

A very fresh drummer on this list. I've never wasn't a fan of Def Leppard, but I've finally gave them a fair chance thanks to @jimmysdragonsuit13 and I have to admit, I was wrong about them on so many levels. "Bringin' On The Heartbreak" changed it all. Drumming in this one is soft, but it still has that power Rick has in his arms while playing. See, I like when there is heard that power in hitting the drums when drummer plays. When there's power, the drumming sounds so good that I can actually lay down and fly away on a cloud, not noticing it. I have a soft spot for rhythmical guys - that's why someone is very high on the list - and Rick fills that spot just right. Plus, you know? "Switch 625" exists and if that ain't the true beauty of Rick's drumming then I don't know what is. Plus, he still slays with one arm - he sounds better than 99% of modern drummers, no I don't regret saying that. He had no influence on me, but he convinced me to the band, good for him XD And the beauty he plays on:

No. 8 - Dave Grohol

New one as well, @radioroger presented him to me again, after I forgot Nirvana existed. Then dad wanted them on his phone again and I listened and I was like: "I hear John fucking Bonham in his style" and I wasn't mistaken! Bonzo was the biggest influence for Dave and God bless for that, because Dave sounds amazing. Powerful, quick whenever he has to, the drums are the lead instrument - LIKE THEY SHOULD BE - and they're just fucking loud. His style is also very heavy, but once you get in the rhythm you just flow. The best example of his drumming for me is "Radio Friendly Unit Shifter". It's aggressive, rhythmical, very Bonzo like and I love it (the boom-boom on the bass drums <3)! No major influence, but I do remember hearing Nirvana once in a while and I already loved his drumming when I was younger. "In Bloom" being the song that convinced me to Nirvana years ago. And the beauty he plays on:

No. 7 - Jordi

I will sound very typical there, but he's new on the list, because I've never paid much attention to Slipknot in the first place. I was pushed away from them because of the clothing, but I once watched a music playlist on tv and they've played "Duality" and let me tell you, the first fucking thing when I heard Jordi's drumming was "Wait, I HEAR MOON IN THIS" and damn was I not disappointed - also guessed the influence. I've went on Spotify, listened to them and discovered "Psychosocial" and damn did my mind was fucking blown to pieces. I mean, the intro is tame for them, then soft drumming and then it's just pure aggression on drums and the power on them, omfg, mixed with the bass drums, like yes, this is how drummers should fucking play AND THE DRUMS ARE LOUDER THAN THE REST, LIKE DOUBLE YES. Not any influence, but like, I listen to Slipknot just because of Jordi. Also look at this beast of a drumset:

THIS IS A DRUMSET!

No. 6 - Cozy Powell

This guy is a madman on drums. This guy is a wonderful drummer and I can listen to him all the fucking time, this should be enough, but I will say more! We are going in the territory where I can't unglue my eyes when I see the drummer and damn is Cozy a candy to my eye when I can see him play. The way he seemed to fly on his drumset is impossible to describe and "A Light In The Black" only proves my point. Not only rhythmical, but talented to the point of composing his own songs and slaying every single one I heard so far. I'll say even more. If not Cozy, Rainbow wouldn't sound as good as it does. Seriously, the song I've linked is purely driven by Cozy's insane drumming. Not a major influence this guy, but I've discovered Rainbow and then Deep Purple thanks to him. I still like Rainbow more - Cozy, duh and Dio on vocals, no one can fucking beat that - and Cozy is somehow special to me. I think he was one of the first drummers that made me look at 70s music more seriously. And the beauty he played on:

No. 5 - Ringo Starr

Now this is the guy I mentioned earlier, that he is so high above while being a rhythmical drummer only. Now where do I start with him... Okay, maybe first of all, I'll start with this, I'll just talk about "Yellow Submarine" XD I was in a very dark place in my life a few years ago you know. Parents were painting walls in the living room, playing music and the tv station played this song. While it has a very simple drumming, I was drawn to it immediately. Asking who is it playing and all. This song actually saved my life back then, then I forgot about it and then I gave The Beatles a chance. Once I heard this song I started crying, happy that I've found the baby of a song that I've cherished so much. Then I saw the drummer and then it all went down that hill! I was listening to their records almost chronologically, until I've watched "Help!" and heard the song. You won't believe it, the small drumming part between verse and chorus was the few seconds that made me go "Ringo's GOOD". His drumming is extremely catchy, rhythmical to the point of him being the click himself, plus when I see him drumming it's just a festival of pure joy for me. He just fucking dances while playing, it's so good, you just see he has the best of fun on the drums, like, you can't have a better example of a drummer having fun in the 60s while being categorized by me as rhythmical drummer. Not a major influence, but he made a path for me to someone with the help of another drummer who will be on the list. The sweet drumset of his:

He did and still does so freaking much on this baby!

No. 4 - Buddy Rich

That guy is really really REALLY out of this list. I heard him by total accident while browsing youtube and I suddenly saw an old video of a drummer and then this:

11 minutes of pure, amazing, skilled beyond belief drumming. You have to see and hear it by yourself, it's impossible to describe what Buddy does on this freaking instrument while having such a tiny set. It's magic, pure pure magic. Not an influence at all, but I can see that he might be my starting point on to the jazz music, because if I have to find such amazing drummers likr him there, I might as well start listening to jazz.

No. 3 - Stewart Copeland

Now here's an odd one! I knew The Police for a long time, dad loves them, mom hates them and I didn't have a lot of chances to really listen to them, until the previously mentioned tv station. They've, my dear, played "Roxanne" during my fresh The Who phase and I only needed to hear the first few second of drumming before the slight pause to love it immediately. Stewart is a very skilled guy, rhythmical, chaotic, he has the fun of his life on drums, has the power to make the drums sounds soft but also smash them to give that BOOM sound I love so much. He also has the same hold of left hand on the drumstick like Buddy Rich, which makes it very easy to make quick sounds. Also the way he can keep the speed throughout the entire song? I mean, listen to "Synchronicity I", this is a drumming masterpiece, everything so well played I fucking can't but scream when I hear it. Also he's a great composer and I was so happy to recognize Copeland when I've played Spyro games and heard the soundtrack. I also bought The Police concert on DVD lately and finally could see him on stage - he's so focused on his work and it gives wonderful results. I wish the camera was focused on him more, I would DIE to see him all the time on stage, his work on stage IS INSANE. Not any influence from him, he just passed along, pulled me by my ear and let me listen to him in peace XD And here the beauty of his:

No. 2 - John Bonham

Now where the fuck do I start with him? I mean it almost seems like he came to me in the right time, in the right moment, literally wrapping his arm around my shoulders and saying: "I'll help ya with your troubles and will show you something" and it was also when I heard "In My Time Of Dying" as a whole for the first time in my life. I did listen to Led Zeppelin in chronological order, went nuts when I heard "Moby Dick", first drum solo I've heard in my life, but "In My Time Of Dying" convinced me that Bonzo is the guy for me in this band. The power in his arms is incredible, you can hear it in his playing, rhythmical, chaotic, you name it. He could go and play at insane speeds, and this song is a perfect example of John playing slowly, just to speed up and freaking thrash on the drums at the very end. He was a major influence for me, Led Zeppelin being the band that kind of started my obsession with music, "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You" being the first song that really hit where it should. I also don't know what's it with the sound of his drumset, but you only have to listen to it for a while and you know it's this bear behind the drum kit, killing it in every second of the song. AND GOD DON'T LET ME START ABOUT LIVE VERSIONS OF MOBY DICK. I can blast this shit for full 30 minutes without a single fuck given, I love his playing so much. He made me love the raw sound of drums and also made me realize that drums should be on the first place in music, not a background noise that is creating rhythm for the band. No, that is fucking boring. You gotta made them SOUND good, you can't just sit and play the rhythm and use all of the power you have in your arms and legs to play them. I also think Bonzo caused my ears to become so used to drumming that I'm not bothered by how loud they are. And honestly good, because like I've already mentioned while talking about Ringo, John was the second guy who made a path for me to someone... For now, his beautiful drumset:

No. 1 - Keith Moon

You knew he will be there, there couldn't be anyone else. Let's skip back to the story about the lonely drum at preschool I told you about. I kept the instrument dear to my heart, listening to various music, but there was a day when I've stepped into the living room when my mom was watching the original CSI series. I've stepped when the outro was playing and you know, 10 years old me was like "What is that? Can I stay?" and then I heard the intro. That day was the one that made me be obsessed with drumming. I heard Keith Moon drumming at that day and only now, when I started listening to them I've realized that this fucking drunkard is responsible for my drumming obsession. This was an instant impact, I loved the intro so much, along with the two others that I watched the series just to hear the music. Parents knew the band but they didn't play it to me, until I've discovered them again, and then again, and then in the last year for the last time, to become who I am now. An insane fucking loon about Keith Moon.

His drumming style is the base for me to look at other drummers. It's the most chaotic, artsy, insane, mad driven playing I adore with my whole soul and body. "Who Are You" being the first song I heard by The Who, still feeling very nostalgic for it. "Bell Boy" being the prime example for me how drums should sound like. Loud, insane, overtaking the whole fucking song, because this is the main instrument, bass, guitar and any other being the side ones, even the vocals being treated like a part of background noise that tries to overscream the drumming. Ya just listen to the part before the chorus - also sang by Keith - to hear how loud the drumming is, especially in the second part of the song.

Also his playing style. Mad, insane, all over the place, self taught, powerful, destructive even - those are the best qualities that a drummer can get. If a drummer can go to the drumset and destroy it with his playing power? Yes, that is what I'm talking about. Smash it to pieces because you have this much power in your arms and legs and you're giving it all.

And the path that I kept mentioning, led to him. John Bonham pulled me into older music, Ringo Starr convinced me to older music, then John took my hand and pushed me into Keith's direction, where I've found what I lost at childhood, so the most influential musician for me without who I'm a shell of myself.

And now, the beast of the beautiful drumset he had:

[dballzposting]

I do believe that Pan needs to be the next Mr Satan.

It goes like this: Pan sort of floats around for a while and doesn’t know where to put down her roots.

She feels bad about it, and wasn’t expecting this of herself - she was an opinionated and willful child, and she can’t believe that she’s lost now that she has the volition to go far. 

Her parents are settled and set. Her uncle and Trunks seem settled - Goten had told her, as to soothe her, that “hey, I was a floater for a while too. I knew I wanted a family but I didn’t know what I’d do for work - and then Trunks approached me with the sword-fighting dojo idea, and now I’m here. He was a wandering soul himself, even. It took him a while to find the sword thing. So don’t sweat it. You’ll figure it out.”

But Pan is not mollified by this at all because it does not help her now. She’s lost NOW - and doesn’t know how to get to the supposed future where she isn’t. 

Gohan, who has seen horrors unimaginable, cannot understand her attitude. There is peace. She can do anything she wants.

“But WHAT do I do?”

“Anything.”

“But WHAT?”

“Anything! There’s potential for anything! Don’t you see how that’s wonderful?”

But Pan almost wishes for another apocalypse so that her life journey would be clear.

Videl has always wanted to give Pan many options for conducting her life, and she’s affronted like Gohan when that is now somehow to Pan’s detriment. 

She encourages Pan to try teaching at her martial arts school, and Gohan encourages her to be a tutor at his university - and neither feel right to Pan.

Meanwhile, Bura’s path has always been clear. She’s thrived in the environment of Capsule Corp. She has enough training by her father to hold her own against any Earth-borne foes, and she’s free to be a fashionable and intelligent powerhouse, even more intense than her mother. A career somewhere in the structure of Capsule Corp was imminent, and when Trunks finally abdicated the President’s chair, Bura knew precisely where she was to go. She became the second youngest Capsule Corp president at 21, and she’s on course to being the CEO after her mother.

Meanwhile, Marron has never had issues with feeling lost. Maybe it’s because she was always in an environment of ease at home, where lounging about at Kame House was a preferable and regular activity. She moves on to do something sweet and docile with her time, like becoming a dance teacher, or doing something with flowers, and she lives calmly and peacefully away from the spotlight and off of the radar.

Oh, but Son Pan just cannot find her roots! She snubs the footsteps of her parents, which feel right for THEM, but their place is not her place. She abhors the drama and show of her Grandfather Satan, which is dire to him, and something that he thrives in, but is only FRIVOLOUS to her. She needs something REAL. Her other grandfather, good lord -  she could never compare if she wants to have hobbies other than fighting. Besides, fighting is only fulfilling when there is someone bad to fight - and how often will that come up? Is she meant to spend her life training and waiting?

Lastly, her grandmother is a commendable woman, but after her children grew and flew away, she had nothing much to do. Pan sees her own youthful lack of direction mirrored in her grandmother’s late age, and she is not keen on living a life where she is doomed to repeat that era again. Even if she is already pretty good at keeping a house structured and clean.

So ... what does she do?

With Goten away at the dojo, Pan is eventually encouraged to step in on the Son family farm. Her father especially encourages it, as he thinks that it will benefit her to get in touch with the reality of wild nature. Furthermore, if she is trying to find roots, then Mt. Paozu is the place to find generations of them.

So for a while, Pan lives like her father, uncle, grandfather, and grandmother have; with the elements, organic and true. In this time, she helps to take care of her grandmother, works alongside her, and spends a lot of time with her. Chichi teaches her recipes, she tells her true tales of the epic adventures of years past, she teaches her how to haggle at the marketplace; she teaches her the value of a dollar, and Pan learns how much it pales compared to a drop of rain. 

Pan vacillates in her opinion of the farm. She finds it useless, she finds it endless, she finds it secretly wise, she finds it mysterious, worthwhile, important, temporary, stifling, healing, not for her, the greatest gift, or just boring.

Her grandpa Goku, always warm yet ever absent, stands as a paragon of answers to her still. He’s a wise man to her, and she wonders more and more if she shouldn’t train with him for a maintained period of time. Then she hears his stories from Chichi, and she realizes that Goku had many wise old teachers in his day: from Korin to King Kai, he was always enabled by another. Goku himself is not a contained pinnacle of greatness, but the product of many teachers and warriors coming together and contributing their wisdom.

Pan is not prone to placing any one person on a pedestal anyway - and this is a Son family virtue in of itself - but the realization that the journey made the man and not the man the journey sinks in like new to her. Without realizing it, and without intending to follow any particular footsteps, Pan does set out on a journey like the one that Goku has in the original dragon ball. She packs a bag, and with no real agenda but to travel and see, she leaves Mt Paozu and starts walking in one direction.

She ends up being a bonafide wanderer for a few years. Trudging about with a walking stick. Swimming across rivers. Eating what she catches. And most importantly, solving problems from town to town. 

It’s a big world outside of her big city. Every town has its own customs, traditions, beliefs, realities, and it doesn’t take long for her to forget all about the small world of global fame and space-traveling that she’s come from.

And it really is a fucked up world out there. Demons. Creatures. Pirate coves and booby traps. Man-eating gourds. Bullies and con-artists alike. Pan finds herself in some real situations, much like when she was in space, and exactly like the ones that the young Son Goku found right here on Earth - just some fucked up shit that takes some creative and quick thinking to get out of. Pan learns to love and admire and venerate the Earth based on the suffering and discomfort that it forces her to persevere through.

It’s a big world out there, and every anthill is rich and every fossil a book. Every town has its own mysteries and she does what she can to remedy their woes when applicable.

As she gets more and more capable at hunting, she comes to refuse all monetary payment. She expects nothing in return, but is more than grateful to accept clothes, tools, good food, good company, a warm place to sleep, good advice, and good conversation.

Son Pan becomes the Wandering Hero. She strengthens her moral center and finds only fulfillment in navigating - and sometimes failing hard at - the difficult ethical questions and circumstances that arise. It’s nothing that she could have accomplished reading her father’s philosophy books or listening to her mother preach passionately about justice - these are lessons that she can only learn herself, in action. Her mistakes cut deep and vindicate her reality; her regrets never leave and always steer her straight; and her successes are defined by the harmony of due comeuppance that sings in all parties.

In this time, she learns of what honor and justice are really, and she comes to dedicate herself to the virtue of balance in all contexts. This is something natural to her blood, but not something that she was to come into on blood alone. She becomes more a martial artist in this time, in head and spirit, then she ever would have training in the city.

She travels the globe and finds the definition of beauty in every corner. All the actions of her predecessors in the fantastic stories she’s heard make perfect sense to her now, and she realizes not that she comes from a group of rational or well-opinionated beings, but that she comes from a group who is astute and perceptive enough to read the overt truth: that there is no choice, there is no room for opinion - the Earth NEEDS to be protected at all costs. She comes from a group who’s been courageous enough to face that.

When she reflects back on why she had first embarked, she feels silly. A quest to find her place - it’s shallow. Her place? She’s alive on the planet Earth, isn’t that enough?

In this way, however, she does come to find herself. In searching the coves and corners of the Earth, she finds herself in all of it, and realizes her consummate place to be a denizen of it.

After this, she is inflamed with the necessity to strive to protect the Earth. Whereas before, waiting to defend it seemed dull, now she sees that the point isn’t in the success, but in the time spent preparing. To spend time not working in favor of the Earth is to waste time. She does train with Goku - and all of the rest who are willing. She spends a year with Roshi, even, running milk and plowing fields, and she leaves only because she becomes self-realized and noble enough to deign it fit to strike him HARD for his lecherous attempts at her.

She dares to train with Vegeta for a moment. At first he wouldn't have her, but she proves her determination and pride enough that he allows her to disappoint him properly. She spends a time with King Kai, and she has tea with the Kaioshins, and suddenly it’s looking like her space-traveling days again.

She eventually returns home, which is the point of it all, and her Grandpa Satan is getting old. He would like to spend the rest of his golden years watching the Golden Girls, and the stress of operating as the soothe-sayer and rallier for the world has begun to weigh on him. During these late years, Uub has begun to shoulder some of the responsibility, and he fights for Mr Satan as one of his pupils in the tournaments. Mr Satan still maintains the World Champion title, though at this point it is mostly honorary, because it is Uub who actually makes an appearance on the ring.

Uub is wicked strong, he brings fame fortune and honor to the human name, he has fought alongside Goku and Vegeta and I think at this point has even made a trip to Beerus’s world once - but he is a shy lad all the same, and he doesn’t necessary want world fame as much as he wants good friends. He’s happy to lead if he must, and will find great responsibility and satisfaction in the role, but, yknow, he likes eating and laughing with Goku, and training with Vegeta, and watching The Golden Girls with Mr Satan. He gets nervous on camera. And he’s not a good yarn-spinner. He’s a sensitive, genuine, and honest kind of person; he is nothing if he can’t find a place in and serve well his community, but there are other things he is more fit to do than be World Champion. 

Pan and Uub have no doubt trained together. And TBH they’re not that far apart in age I feel like they could be gal pals. They could definitely talk. Oh they could definitely call each other on the phone and chat it up. Oh they would just understand each other so WELL. They’ve both spent time away from family and have a reserve of pain dedicated to that. At the same time, they’ve made the whole world their family. They are both dedicated to protecting it and serving it well. They have both humbled themselves before the endeavor of self-improvement.

They are both honored to be of service, but they get to talking, and Uub, in the name of paying comeuppance for the grief he’s caused himself, must lay bare his nature: he doesn’t know if he can be the World Champion after Mr Satan. He absolutely will if he must, but he scares himself when he thinks of how he’ll go about it. He can’t help but to think that he won’t inspire much confidence, that his character isn’t luxurious enough to rally an audience, that maybe it’s an ostentatious position that ought to fade from existence, that maybe the Earth doesn’t need talkers but walkers. He’s struggling at differentiating between when doubt is harmful vs when it’s a saving grace. He relents that - if his journey is to be perilous and perplexing and strenuously difficult, he will accept it with grace and graititude and stumble along. If he is to be handed the torch, the honor bestowed upon him by that action will carry him through, and he will become built for it out of necessity. He makes clear that he will be beyond humbled and will know the highest enjoyment if the Earth is to trust him with its delicacy and he is to take it in his hands, and he will conduct himself with valor, and he will believe in himself if the world does, because he would never forsake its opinion.

He’s made all the world a teacher, and he will never stop improving himself by it.

But. Well. It’s just that. He can’t help but to think. Well - he wants well for the world. And wouldn’t the world be better off with with a leader who was already fit for the job? So that it wouldn’t have to sit through a learning curve? No one can replace the King Lion that was Mr Satan, but, like, it’s just that, well Uub has been getting really into realty TV these days, and he would like to have the downtime to watch that, and also he hasn’t seen his mom in a while, and he starts sweating when you point a camera on him, and if he had to wear that hot and heavy World Champion cape he may just faint, and, like - all the world’s a teacher, and he feels that there is harmony in that, and if he has to go up on stage and rally a crowd for no good discernible reason, just to maintain a title, well, what’s the point of that? 

When Pan was young, she made clear that she did not want to be the next Mr Satan. Then she moved farther from her parents’s paths, and now in a circuitous way, she’s arrived closer to all of them than where she’s started. In the interest of finding a role, in placing roots, is there anyplace more pertinent than the life of her grandfather, whose life work has been to unify and heal the hearts and minds of the people on Earth? In studying tight niches to find herself in all of it, in traveling far to find herself in the blood she’s always carried with her - the role of her grandfather Satan is the one role of her kin that she hasn’t yet indirectly and inexorably pursued.

It’s the role to tie it all together. At a few key points, Earth would not have persevered, or navigated with much health or success, through dire circumstances without the spokesman unifying all of Earth’s various, small, beautiful corners. When the Earth at large is at stake, all the forces therein need to join their efforts together to protect what they love, and there is a necessary catalyst for that, a unifying voice that all can sing to.

The Earth has warriors looking out for it, training far in space in order to maintain Earth’s place in the broader order. There are warriors training within the Earth to enable a good cause, in swordfighting dojos and schools that bear a family name and significance. There are business leaders, presidents and CEOs, doing what they were born to do and wearing what they love to wear. There are farmers and mothers, there are scholars, there are people adding to destiny by doing what they enjoy.

And there’s a symbol for all of this, one individual who can stand at the top with solid feet and a confidence that reflects not just inner strength but the strength that comes from serving, and being loved by, others.

It’s in her blood. It’s in her roots. She’s when the unstoppable house of Goku meets the dazzling house of Satan, where the soul is of pure passion, where humility embraces confidence, where love and and devotion is multiplied beyond count.

She couldn’t have become the next World Champion when she was young. Though she was photogenic and flamed with showmanship when inspired, that was all the merit she saw in the job, and that was not enough for her; ibso facto, she was not enough for it, all the symbolic meaning being lost on her.

Now, she can do it, and may be the only one who can. It all comes together. Everything that she’s learned, seen, heard - all the values that have been endowed upon her since the cradle - can come into play.

She loves her Grandpa Satan anyway. She would be so happy and honored to take the torch, and to make him happy.

And she loves the Earth, and she loves the people on it. There’s power and hope and potential in every soul, no matter how small of a corner one hails from, and Pan would find actualization in harmonizing them all into one consolidated force. This is the Earth loving itself. Consider this her Saiyaman phase.

As World Champion, she would be very different from the lion Mr Satan was. Mr Satan had his beginnings in a genuine passion for the martial arts, but he is also grandiose and self-important by nature, and so he took to fame as fate expressly bid it. He is sustained by the veneration and adoration of others, and this served him well as he always sought to communicate to the public a version of a story that was both believable and that inspired confidence, comfort, and excitement. Despite it all, Mr Satan is still the most in-touch with the average human out of all of the Z fighters, and this has made him an effective leader. He is also a very gifted yarn-spinner. As in big fat liar. And that’s fine. It all worked out perfectly in the end. But.

That’s not how Pan is gonna be World Champion. She has no interest in lying, or gloating, or extolling, or embellishing, or fabricating. The job does require some small ... re-identifying of certain events, and Son Pan will not be too good to lie by omission. But she’s not here to make up tales. That was her grandpa’s job. Her job is to walk, not talk. 

Her presence on stage is much less for the benefit of the audience. Rather than giving them what they want to hear, SHE tells THEM what they want to hear - she steps out on stage in heavy boots, heavy belt, heavy cape and says “Alright, listen up-” and tells them what they need to hear and what she needs them to understand.

This presence of course commands so much respect, and it still runs well on camera. This is an aesthetic and presentation that the magazines can run fine with.

If Mr Satan was the King Lion, she is The Sergeant - all the command of her grandmother, all the competence of her paternal grandfather, all the conviction of her mother, and all the commitment of her father.

Despite this look, she is not into the cigars like her grandfather and mother are. She prefers to not compromise herself with substances, and when she does, it is with sweets and treats and ice cream delights.

She doesn’t humor dumb questions at interviews, and she is incredibly perceptive, knowing what’s being asked better than the interviewer - she will ascertain what REALLY wants to be known, and she won’t hold back when delivering.

She is succinct, effective, and at times laconic. She’s stoic when she needs to be, but she’s also comfortable on camera, and she knows when and how to have a little fun. As a fighter in the tournaments, she likes to prolong the battle for a while, and teach as much as she can in that time.

As a leader, she inspires obedience and confidence, and all the world can feel that she loves them more than they know. May they never know, and never have to see her fall for them.

But hey. It’s just the family business, right? Everything will always return to this, because nothing else has ever actually mattered.

And she still has Girl’s Night with Uub and Bura and Marron and you know she’s buying. After all, a dollar’s value pales when compared to a drop of rain, and its best use is when buying for friends.