#AND ALSO ITS FUCKING DEAD WEEK AND I HAVE A TEST TODAY AND SHE KNOWS THAT BUT DENIED IT LAST NIGHT

[cinemacrypt]

Weeping sobbing shitting my dick WHY DID I MOVE IN WITH A FUCKING PROFESSIONAL THERAPIST

[peligrosapop]

I can’t sleep and have a headache, I’m in pain and sober ( weed would help 2/3 at the least)for some stupid reason. So, I’ll rant.

I went skating (as in skateboard) yesterday

did my first ever 50-50 trick (skate trick) at 40

but also pulled a muscle in my upper thigh and I’m limping a bit and it hurts. (Hi, It’s me, Pedri without free accessible healthcare)

A girl flirted/hit on me and I can’t thinking about it bc, maybe I liked the attention? and she’s cute? I get plenty of attention at home though, dunno wtf is going on.

I forgot to call my mom on her bday but I called her today and we talked like an hour and it was nice. I like my mom a lot. I don’t want her to die, ever. My dad’s death anniversary was last week and I just realized yesterday. None of us surviving family members said anything either, guess we rather forget.

The call with mom also made me realize I barely call anyone anymore, ever. Last time my older sister called I didn’t pick up and have ghosted her since. I told my mom I’m being anti social atm. I need to call my pregnant younger sister. I guess I’m the asshole.

I text with a lot of people that I don’t know IRL and have neglected a lot of my IRL friends. I even have neglected online friends I like a lot. I still chat people a bit too much, I’m afraid.

I think my current obsession with Barça on tumblr and tumblr in general helps me focus on something else but myself when I’m stuck creatively or emotionally.

I need to finish writing 4 songs that I started and are almost done. One about staring at your crush, one about dreaming of people that have passed away, one about Messi (in the most non-obvious way) and one about leaving everything behind to move somewhere else to remake your life. It is annoying to feel like I can’t when I’m perfectly able to. They are 80-90% done.

Right now I’m in between jobs doing some gigs and the break in routine and extra time to do fun stuff things has been , instead of being liberating, weird.

My fav girl friend has been really busy lately and I fucking hate it. I feel needy. And I hate it.

My boyfriend is amazing, thank god he’s there. My bff. I am a mess rn. He was trolling me a week ago saying “I read this list of symptoms of depressed people and you checked out most of them” and I laughed at him and he was like 😅. I’m not depressed. It’s okay. I have depressive tendencies from anxiety but that’s it. I’m a hedonist most of the time, anyway. 🤣 Very few fucks given but active existencial dread.

My health/body has been changing since I hit 40 and it’s pissing me off. Also I kinda stop caring care of myself for a second but getting back on track. Also need to start saving money for all the “hey you hit 40 so you may have this” health test, like cancer screenings and shit. But hey, better old than dead.

and….I need a hug. And to write poems but they won’t come out. I don’t need anyone to do anything. I just need to get it out of my system.

I wish you were here and not so far away, you know this. I punched my pillow today like I told you I wanted to. I wish it was easier.

We had a friend as a house guest for a week and he just left today without telling us, even though he was supposed to be here 2 more weeks and now he said he is with a dude we don’t talk to anymore. lol wtf is wrong with people?! can’t they be normal?!!!! You can say you wanna go see a friend, why just disappear and tell us a one like text when we asked where the fuck you are. He may come back? I dunno ahahahah. Maybe its our bad for having a bunch of moody musicians as friends.

Also, like my bf jokes all the time….when I die, be happy for me because I won’t have to pay any more bills.

Maybe this was too real but IDGAF. The end.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[adayinalifeofjosie]

First blog?

Hello everyone. :)

This will be my first ever blog entry. So please forgive me if the structure isn’t as good at the moment.

Also, English isn’t my native language but feel free to give me Feedback on how I can approve with sentence building and grammar.  

To test out the waters, I’ll start with a Christmas summary of some sort.

I do have to give a trigger warning, I’ll list the triggers for this post now. 

Triggers:

thoughts of self harm

flashbacks

Let’s start with the week before Christmas. It was stressful. 

Since I’m currently in a Psych Ward, I couldn’t really do much besides panicking about the following days. Therapy has been really tough lately, but I found more skills to help me reduce stress levels. 

Also I, for some reason, started having flashbacks about things that my mind completely suppressed. It was freaking me out because I don’t remember much about my childhood until let’s say, eleven? So suddenly remembering it was…. quite eventful. 

It didn’t help that I started to miss using self-harm to release some of the pressure I felt in my chest. Somehow, I managed not to fall back into old habits, A win is a win, right?

My doctor gave me creative “homework” to reflect myself and also get back into being creative. 

On the twenty-third of december I went to the christmas market with my boyfriend, his mother, step-father and brother. Which is always a fun thing to do when you have social anxiety. I bought more painting supplies, becáuse I realized that I enjoy painting. 

Overall, I enjoyed the evening despite being stressed as fuck. I ate some good ol’ currywurst, a crepe and his mother bought a “Lachsbrötchen” for me. 

As soon as I got back to the clinic, I dropped dead in my bed, because I knew the nexr day would be a challange on its own. For the first time in 25 years, I spent christmas away from home.

 On christmas day, which is the twenty-fourth here in Germany, I joined my Boyfriend

and his father, step-mother and brother for dinner and the “Bescherung”, which basically is the time where we give eachother what we got for them. 

They invited me in with open arms and here I am, two days later, still dreaming about the amazing food they cooked. My boyfriend informed them on my behalf that I currently am back in the Psych ward. 

I went to my boyfriends place around 10:30 pm because I was exhausted but in the end, I felt super comfortable the entire evening and had a lot of fun!

Around one pm the next day, my boyfriend and I drove to my mother, to visit her and her boyfriend. We exchanged presents as well, ate some good cake, for which I still need the recepy for. It was a nut and apple cake. Usually, I am not a big fan of nuts, but that was surprisingly well-balanced. 

My mother hugged me for a while after arriving. She usually is a very emotional unavailable person. I think me being back in the clinic is harder for her than she lets me see. I appreciate it though. I love hugs. And knowing that my mother truly cares about me, made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

So. Today is the 26.12. The last day of christmas. I once again was invited to my boyfriends brothers place. However this time, we had breakfast together with his mom, step-father, brother and grandma. 

And let me tell you. German breakfast is the shit. Crossaints and Brötchen fresh out of the oven, a variety on cheese, meats and jam. We shared laughter, had interesting conversations and jazzy christmas music was playing softly in the background. 

I even had a “deeptalk” with his mother. It helped me a lot. 

This year I experienced a chill christmas for the first time. And I am so so so thankful to my boyfriends family. Especially for my boyfriend this year. Listen, I don’t believe in a god or anything like that. But it seemed like the universe took a liking in me and gifted me with this amazing soul. 

He is truly one of a kind and I’ve never felt so safe with a person before. I am so thankful for that. For him. 

So I don’t know if you’ll ever get to read this, but I truly love you. <3

Now I am back at the clinic, done writing this entry. 

I hope that every single one of you had nice christmas days,

lots of love, 

Josie

[baecvlt]

Stalker Nagito Komaeda x Milf!Reader

this was requested via my twitter:

“Hey! i’ve seen your works and I’m in love. Can I request smut where a stalker Nagito Komaeda becomes obsessed with a milf reader who moves into the neighborhood who’s like a dom in bed and ya know just large bust and taller than him. Thank youuu🤍”

a/n: ofc. but I have my own idea of a dom which i’ll use involving certain things (heed warnings)

warnings: he is so obviously a virgin in this, degradation, slight masochism, asphyxiation, spit, also Nagito calls the reader mommy (side note: nagito is in his early 20s in this, he lives alone. age of reader isn’t specified BUT I say she’s in her late 20s/early 30s)

• • •

It was a bright day...which Nagito despised. It was summer. He hated the sun, hated the mosquitoes, and the unnecessary humidity. It was days like these he wishes he was back at his university dorm. The A/C, the tall tree covering his window and blocking the sun...it was perfect. Hell, he didn’t even hate classes. Yet, he couldn’t live in the dorms forever. When it came time to buy a home, he stupidly did so in fall, moved in during the winter.

Well, no shit the home seemed perfect then. It wasn’t fucking summer. His A/C decided to break, his windows has a great view of the sun, and most of his friends were out of town (all except Hajime, but Hajime is fucking boring and a bummer). Nagito sat on his couch, watching reruns of old tv shows. He took a sip from his nearby glass (cold water), suddenly hearing sounds of what appeared to be a loading van. He looked outside his window.

A moving van?

Right, that one old man who lived there passed away. Freak accident, by the way. Oh well, may he rest in peace. Meanwhile, Nagito was being himself and trying to see who it was. Pretty much, the dude was being nosy. He saw another car pull up. That must’ve been the family’s car. Out jumped 3 kids, what appeared to be 2 girls and 1 boy. An adult stepped out. Nagito decided he’d get a better look at the situation. He put on his shirt, black jeans, and his green hood.

He was “going for a walk”.

Without being noticed, he made his way to the other side of the street. It was a woman, she was taking boxes out of the truck. The minute Nagito saw her it was if he was stricken by Cupid’s arrow. She was tall and beautiful. Her skin complimented her hair and her legs, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Her breasts...he needed to stop—

“Hi!”

She was in front of him, a warm and inviting smile on her face. “H-Hi,” he muttered. She didn’t hear him well, so it helped that he waved. “I’m new in the neighborhood. We just moved in,” she added, putting the box down. She stuck her hand out, going for a handshake. He shook her hand, her warm hand against his cold ones. Why are his hands always cold? “I see,” he responded, getting his shit together,“I’m Nagito Komaeda. I live across the street”. She introduced herself and complimented his house.

“What a lovely home. I hope the neighborhood is just as lovely”

“It should be. It’s pretty quiet. There’s not many families here. Say, can I help you pack?”

“You’re too sweet! I’d really appreciate it”

He helped take all the boxes in her home, helping load a couch too, and help with other large objects. They finished in 9 hours, taking a majority of the day. “Thanks for helping out, Nagito”. She made a lemonade, handing him a glass.

“Don’t mention it! Also, thank you”

One of the kids ran in the living room where they sat on the couch. He gasped when he saw Nagito. “Mommy! That man looks dead!!!”. Nagito smiled, but his mom was not amused. “Michael! Apologize..”. The kid kept smiling and said,“Sorry!”. He ran to another room. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered. Nagito shook his head.

“Hey, I’m rather malnourished”

“Ha. On an unrelated topic, are you hungry? I could make us something”

“Oh, I shouldn’t linger any longer. I wouldn’t want to disturb your husband”

She laughed. “I know you mean no harm, but I’m not married,” she added. “Oh,” Nagito muttered,“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it in any way”. She shook her head and reassured him it was fine. “Sit, Nagito,” she pulled out a chair,“I’m not letting you refuse having dinner with us. Especially since you were such help”. She rubbed his back before heading back into the kitchen to begin cooking.

She made him a bowl of pasta, adding chicken on the side. Nagito was quite happy. He hadn’t eaten a good meal in so long. Her kids didn’t eat at the table, but on the counter. Meanwhile, she ate with Nagito. Just as Nagito thought he couldn’t grow fonder of her, he did just that. All she did was let him talk about himself.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about your parents? How are you keeping yourself afloat with university and expenses?”

“Academic scholarships”

“Wow, you’re such a smart boy”

The way she phrased it made him flustered. “Thank you for the meal, ma’am,” he muttered,“I haven’t eaten like this in who knows how long”. She smiled tenderly, picking up his empty plate. “Seconds?”. He shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’m already so full”

“I’m glad. You know, there’s always a meal for you in store if you can do me a favor”

“What’s that?”

“My oldest daughter has her final test this week. You think you can help her study? I’ll make you a nice, warm meal every time you come over”

Nagito thought about it. He would also have time around her. Plus, she wasn’t a bad cook. “Of course, I look forward to it,” he told her. “Lovely”. He got up and excused himself to go home. “It was nice having you over, Nagito,” she said softly. He could tell she was getting sleepy. When people are tired, Nagito has noticed that their tone is rather sheepish. She walked him to the door, ruffling his hair playfully and he blushed. “Goodnight, neighbor”.

“Goodnight, you”

Before he left, she stopped him and handed him a paper: (xxx) xxx-xxxx ♡

“Call me when you get home so I have your number saved. Then, I can call you when my daughter, Vanessa, needs help. Take care, okay?”

He nodded.

She closed the door, his thoughts racing on his way home. He picked up some things about her, things she didn’t even tell him. He went home and opened a notebook, writing all of it down. He called her and she answered, her voice as sweet as when he left (only sleepier). “Hello?”. His breath was heavy without realizing it as he spoke. “H-Hey, you told me to call you,” he breathed,“It’s Nagito...Komaeda”

“Oh, hey, angel! I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“What? No, it’s all good— why’d you think so?”

“You sound like you need to catch your breath, but anyway, thanks for calling me. I’ve saved your number now”

“Oh, great! Well, if that’s all, I’ll let you go to bed now”

“It was. Goodnight, Nagito”

“G-Goodnight”

He hung up, flustered more than ever as he continued to jot down his thoughts on paper. The next day, he woke up at 6am to wait in his car. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. At around 7:41am, his front neighbor and kids headed for their car. Nagito, who had taken a light nap in the driver’s seat, was awoken by the car starting. He waited for the car to drive away just slightly past his house to start his own car, slowly tailing behind her.

He dropped her kids off at the nearby elementary. She got off, kissed them on their forehead (all minus the eldest, who walked swiftly through the gates). Seeing how she cared for them made Nagito feel bad, but all he did was brush that feeling off. Next, he followed her through her daily. As he did, his notes from last night echoed through his mind, adding new detail.

“She works at an office not everyday She doesn’t have allergies but is sensitive to dust Red seems to be her favorite color but always in a darker shade Her daughter is around 10 years old She isn’t vegan but enjoys almond milk Maybe has an issues with abandonment but I can’t assume that either She buys many apples but not the same amount of bananas at the store so maybe she only eats the bananas—”

Just more to add to his notebook.

He got home before she did, writing down what he had learned. His phone rang about an hour later of him getting home. He picked it up,“Hello?”. “Nagito, hi!”. It was her. He started having a mini-panic attack, because why would she be calling him? “H-Hey, how are you?”

“I’m doing alright. I was wondering if you could come over and tutor Vanessa”

Oh, thank god.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be down there right now”

“Great. See you then!”

He was relieved, heading to her home happily. He knocked on the door. When she opened it, she did so with the same warm smile as yesterday. “Thank you for coming over,” she said,“She’s in her room”. Nagito nodded, freezing when she grabbed his hand and took him to the room. Her touch was so soft, noted. They got to the room, where a girl was reading a book on a desk. “Nessa?”. The girl turned around.

“Nagito is going to be here for a few hours to help you out with homework and studying. He’s really smart, so pay attention and be respectful”

“Okay, mom”

She nodded, squeezing Nagito’s shoulder before leaving. Nagito approached the girl, she took her things out. Before he could speak, she stopped him. “Please don’t call me ‘Nessa’,” she whispered,“It’s bad enough my mom does, but not you, Please”.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on referring to you at all”

“Bastard”

“Nessa”

“I guess I walked right into that one”

Nagito laughed, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her. Her work wasn’t what he expected. Is this what they’re teaching kids now? He could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen this type of stuff until he hit middle school. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, but damn. All in all, tutoring went well. Vanessa actually learned something today. “Good job!,” he said. “Thank you,” she smiled and hugged him,“I felt so stupid”.

“Hey, its okay not to understand things”

Her mom walked in. “Dinner’s ready”. Vanessa got up and went to the kitchen. “How’d it go?,” she asked Nagito. “Went well, she gets the math now,” he answered. She smiled, thanking him for his help and asking him to join them for dinner. He’d be foolish not to, so he accepted the invite.

Fish tacos were served tonight with rice and beans, another lemonade made. It was different than anything Nagito had ever had, but that doesn’t equate to bad. He actually enjoyed the meal. The kids sat at the main table today, much more respectful than yesterday. “Michael how was school?”. He put a thumbs up, getting back to eating. “And Adrianna?”. She looked up from her meal and shrugged. “What’s wrong?”.

“I’m tired, but class was okay”

“Oh, okay. When you’re done, just take a quick shower and get to bed”

“Thanks”

Nagito thought it was endearing. Seeing how understanding and loving she was, it was refreshing. The kids all eventually left, Nagito finishing his meal. “Did you like it?”. He looked at her, nodding. “Great! Seconds?”.

“Full again. I don’t usually eat, but your food is always so good”

“Oh, you’re just saying things...”

“No, really! Thank you”

He said his goodbyes to the family, walking back home. It was as if he was falling for this woman more and more everyday. He went to sleep, this time dreaming of her. He never dreams, but this time he dreamt she was on her knees for him. Then, nothing else. It was as if his dream teased him.

The next morning, he woke up to some knocking on the door. He looked at the time. 8:23am. He put on a pair of jeans and his shirt, walking to his door. He opened it and there she stood, wearing a black dress and red heels. He assumed she had work and needed a favor before going. “Good morning,” he said.

“Were you following me yesterday?”

Shit.

“I, uh...,” he didn’t know what to answer. He was indeed following her yesterday. He also liked her, so if he straight up said that he was to following her, it’d ruin things. His face was glowing a shade of pink to a slight red as he thought of the right answer. He was still stumbling over his words. “I think it’s kinda cute,” she added. The fuck? “Huh?”. She pushed him inside the house, closing and locking the door behind him. “When a boy follows someone around, it’s because he wants something,” she added, but her tone was so sultry,“Well, Nagito—”. She pushed him onto the couch, leaning in front of him with her hands on his chest.

“—What do you want?”

None of what was happening felt real. Nagito couldn’t find the words to express what exactly he wanted. This was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like this, it wasn’t a bad one either. He began to panic when she straddled him. “Could it be that you wanted me?,” she asked. He frantically nodded and she laughed as she locked her lips with his. He gasped against her lips, kissing back. She slowly trailed her kisses down to his neck, cupping his jaw while grinding on his lap. Nagito moaned, his shaky hands grabbing her ass. She grabbed his hands and put them away from her. “It’s cute that you’re getting this carried away”.

“I’m sorry”

“No time to apologize. Get on your knees for mommy”

Nagito was about to lose his mind when she said that, but he obeyed. Her presence was domineering as he stood on his knees against his carpeted floor. She spread her legs, noticing Nagito desperately trying to get a look. Her red heel stopped him, stepping on his head lightly. “Am I teasing you?,” she asked,“It’s okay to be honest”.

“Y-You are, but its okay. I want to be teased by you”

“You’re adorable,” she took her heel off his head,“Let’s go to your room”.

He practically ran to his bed. He sat and waited patiently. She entered the room, heading to his bed. She began to take off his shirt, admiring his frame. She then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He kicked them off and sat down. She sat next to him. “Give me your hands”. She held them, frowning slightly. “Boo, they’re so cold,” she teased,“I’ll warm them up for you”. Carefully, she grabbed his left hand, putting his middle and ring finger in her mouth. She licked to his fingertips, leaving him tense and speechless. She stopped and smiled at him.

“This is your first time, isn’t it?”

He nodded shyly. “Don’t be shy,” she said,“I’m going to guide you, but I’m also going to have my fun”. He gulped, nodded. She stood up and removed her dress. She wore a lacy black bra and panties. She brought his hands to her breasts, allowing him to fondle them. They were huge in his hands. “You like them, baby?”. “Y-Yes,” he muttered,“Can you, uh, take....the bra off?”. He was ashamed when asking, he felt desperate. She smiled and nodded, unhooking it and allowing the bra to fall to the ground. He gasped at the sight of her tits, grabbing them. She straddled him.

“Do you know what to do with them?”

He nodded, rubbing one and sucking the other. She moaned sweetly, grinding on his lap. He popped his mouth off them. That was when she took the opportunity to knock him onto the bed. She began to make out with him, shoving his tongue down her throat. They lay sideways. Her hand was on his neck, slightly choking him. He couldn’t resist but try to grind on her lap. She laughed. “Look at you,” she mocked,“Humping my leg like a desperate little puppy”. She didn’t let him speak, sitting up and pushing him back down. “I’m going to give you what you want,” she whispered in his ear,“Take your cock out”.

He was nervous as he did, hands shaky. She blushed a bit at his size. “It’s so big,” she said, straddling him,“I’m going to have my way with it”. “Please, do what you want to me,” he begged,“Abuse me, please”. She didn’t speak, sinking down on it. Nagito gasped, she was extremely wet. She began to bring her hips up and land straight down on it, repeatedly. She put her hands around his throat, now being rougher. Nagito gasped for air, grabbing her hands.

That was a mistake.

“Hands down,” she ordered, striking him across the face. “Sorr-”. He was slapped once again. “Only speak when you’re spoken to”. He nodded as his stomach began to cave in. His cock twitched each time she slapped him, making her moan. She leaned forward, capturing his earlobe between her teeth. He winced, his hands tangling in the sheets. He felt as though his entire body was blushing.

“You’re so sensitive there”

She teased him, kissing the skin and nibbling. His hips involuntarily snapped upward, making her whine. “You’re so desperate, baby,” she laughed,“it’s so cute”. He could feel her warmth running along his cock. He bit into his hand, trying to stop himself from cumming inside her. It worked, but she didn’t like him doing that. She grabbed his hands and kissed them.

“Don’t hurt yourself, put them right here”

She placed them on her boobs. He watched them bounce up and down, grabbing them gently. His rather large hands seemed small on her tits. He was extremely flushed. He took them off her and placed them on her hips. “Open your mouth”. He lay back more and did as he was told. She leaned forward, grabbing his jaw again as she spit into it and kissed him. He moaned when she did, his urges getting the best to him and thrusting upward. He hit her cervix every time, causing her to produce the sweetest and sluttiest of moans. Her walls tightened around him and now he was whining. “Are you gonna cum, honeybun?,” she asked.

“Y-Yes..”

“Where do you wanna cum?”

“I wanna cum...everywhere. I want it. I want it so bad. I wanna cum inside and on your tits, on your ass, y-your face..mouth. Please let me cum, mommy”

She motivated him, riding him harder. “Come on, Nagito,” she whispered,“Cum for mommy. Cum all the way inside her”. He lost his mind after that, groaning as he shot his load(s) inside her. He was still inside her as he tried catching his breath. She rubbed his chest, shushing him. “Good boy, you did so well,” she cooed,“Such a good boy.” He was covering his face, embarrassed and still hard. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?,” she asked. He shook his head, thinking,“Not rough enough”. He whined when she got off, revealing he was still erect. She noticed.

“You wanna go again, baby? Kids don’t leave school till 2:30. We have time for an extra fuck”

“C-Can I?”

“Yes, dummy”

She let Nagito choose how to fuck her. He wanted missionary, mostly because he craved intimacy and she did not disappoint. She kissed and praised him, telling him he was good. She held onto him the whole time and cuddled him afterwards. Nagito felt so special, he felt loved. “I can come over when I don’t have work,” she said,“Would you like that?”.

“I’d love that actually”

“You make me happy, Nagito. I could stay here and cuddle all day”

“I feel so lucky”

He yawned, looking at the clock. “Its 10,” he told her. She nuzzled his chest, humming. “Mmmm, let’s take a small nap,” she whispered,“Okay?”. “Okay”. He kissed the top of her head and held her to him, slowly joining her in slumber.

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

[angstyaches]

Space

From 🍄 anon after I basically begged for angsty requests:

hello flick, if you want to write hunger with little to no comfort,,,,, consider this,,,, shayne,,,, not letting himself eat back when he still lived with madeline and watson,,, and not telling charlie,,, because he doesn’t want to worry him,,,,

This is closer to a whump fic than a hurt/comfort fic, so be warned. Also, just a reminder, these OCs are 19-20ish at the time. Shayne gets a little comfort, just not the right kind.

CW: emotional whump, disordered eating, low self-esteem, hunger with pain and affecting cognitive function, little/no comfort, psychological abuse.

___

He woke for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, groaning as he took in the appearance of his room. He sluggishly rolled over, frowning in the direction of the little clock that sat on top of his set of drawers.

5:35am. An acceptable time to give up on sleep.

He sat up slowly, trying to gauge how much he could move without making himself dizzy. He rubbed his eyes, the stray ends of sleep disappearing and leaving a stabbing pain in the pit of his stomach. He pressed a hand over the pain, frowning when he felt his stomach rumble under his palm.

Maybe that’s what had been keeping him from sleeping.

Are you hungry, Shayne?

A shiver ripped up his spine. He stood up, shaking his head to chase out the phantom voice; he couldn’t deal with the Madelyn in his head, especially not while she was also in the house with him.

He tried to remember what he’d eaten recently. He’d been shaky after school yesterday, and he’d tried to eat a cup of instant noodles, but he’d only managed a few mouthfuls before starting to feel nauseous, and the cup had ended up in the bin along with most of its contents. Before that, he’d had a granola bar for breakfast, and before that –

No, wait, the granola bar hadn’t been yesterday. It’d been the day before that. It was definitely that week, for sure…

He swallowed, wondering if he should have breakfast today. It was always a gamble; he never knew when Watson or Madelyn would expect him to work, and it was always much messier and more painful when he had food in his system.

Not to mention that food always came with a side helping of judgment in this house.

He took his time getting ready, though there was little to relish about the morning. He crossed the dark hallway to the bathroom, took his usual lukewarm shower and brushed his teeth, towel-dried his hair, put on the grey-and-navy uniform that would keep him relatively invisible for most of the day.

In this house, though, it was impossible to stay invisible.

Madelyn was in the hallway as he made his way downstairs with his backpack. His stomach dropped, her gaze making the hairs on his forearms prickle. He quickly tugged his sleeves down from his elbows to hide the goosebumps that sprung up.

“Morning, Mads.”

“Good morning,” she snapped, eyeing him up and down as he stood, silent, on the last step, gripping the handrail. She had piercing amber eyes and dark, silky hair that fell to her waist when loose. That morning, she’d twisted it into an elaborate structure at the nape of her neck.

Shayne shrugged his backpack a little higher on his shoulder. “Do… Do you need me for anything?”

She scoffed at that, eyes turning away from him. “If it were possible to prove yourself useful this morning, don’t you think I would have already informed you?”

He nodded. “Sure. Sorry.”

“Could you tell me what time you’ll be home after school today?”

Shayne swallowed, only hesitating for a second. “Five o’clock. As soon as the bus gets in…”

“You have no… plans?”

He shook his head. There was no way he’d let Charlie rope him into hanging out at the Mulberry house, not while he was feeling so weak and drained. Even worse, he’d probably be offered dinner if he showed up there.

At just the vague thought of food, his stomach shifted and let off a low growl. He quickly crossed his arms, shuffling his feet and clearing his throat at the same time. With her heightened senses, Madelyn surely heard it, but she didn’t react beyond narrowing her glare.

“Nothing?” she asked. “We’ve seen so little of you recently.”

Shayne shook his head and cleared his throat again. “Do you need me for something then?”

“Full of questions this morning, hmm?” Madelyn shook her head and took a step towards the kitchen. “Just be home when you say you’re going to be home. Otherwise, you know… I’ll have to send Watson out to find you again.”

A chill rolled down Shayne’s back as he watched her step out of his way. It was vague, but it was a threat, not just to him, but to Charlie and his parents. He bit into his cheek, hot streaks of anger flashing through his head and tightening the muscles in his chest.

Madelyn raised her eyebrows. She didn’t quite gesture towards the front door, but it felt like an instruction to leave. He stormed past her and out the front door, letting it slam behind himself in what instantly felt like the pettiest form of rebellion ever.

He spun around and lifted both his middle fingers towards the door; Madelyn had several supernatural abilities, but seeing through doors wasn’t one of them.

“Fuck you,” he mouthed silently, with enough force that he might as well have screamed it. He took several steps backwards before he turned to face the road, proceeding like a zombie beneath the rain-dampened trees.

His hands felt funny. He lifted them slightly and frowned when he found he couldn’t hold them steady. He crossed his arms over his chest and held himself, taking gulps of air into his lungs to try to calm himself.

But even when he managed to tame the fiery, hateful anger, he was still shaking. The centre of his stomach ached as waves of hunger weaved back and forth inside of him. As the rusted sign for the bus stop came into view, its edges seemed to blur, and the road tipped to the side.

Shayne freed one hand from under his own arm and pressed it to his mouth, wondering for a second if he was going to be sick. Instead, it was just a shallow burp that rolled up, churning his stomach and making it growl violently.

“Mm. Fuck,” he whispered to himself. He glanced down the empty road, checking that the bus wasn’t arriving just yet. He held a hand over his stomach, pushing against it and rubbing harshly, hoping to coax the growls out before he was surrounded by other students. He realised he’d forgotten to fill his water bottle before leaving the house, so he couldn’t even get some liquid into his stomach to shut it up. He’d need to remember to go to the water fountain before his first class.

As the bus crested the hill, he shoved his hands in his pockets, staring down at the ground. He always wondered what he looked like to the students looking out the bus windows. He’d never figured out how to hold himself in a way that seemed natural.

The bus driver didn’t even bother to look at him, which was normal. Shayne glared at a first-year student who was staring at him while whispering something to his friend. He was used to hearing himself being talked about, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. He already hated that he took up physical space; he could barely stand the idea that he also took up residence in people’s minds.

He walked until he reached the seat where Charlie was sitting, staring down at some loose sheets covered in notes while wearing in-ear headphones. He looked up after a few seconds, breaking into an easy smile.

Fuck. That smile. It usually pissed him off so much that he would just look away whenever it popped up on Charlie’s face, but for some reason, Shayne found it hard not to stare this morning.

“You want to sit?” Charlie asked, pulling out his headphones.

Shayne swallowed, unable to bring himself to nod. Charlie’s backpack was in the seat next to him. It would need to be moved if he was going to sit down.

You take up so much fucking space –

Without even waiting for an answer, Charlie pulled the backpack towards himself, propping it on his lap.

The hollow space inside of Shayne throbbed, ached.

You're like a black hole.

"Go ahead," Charlie urged him, nodding to the free seat.

Shayne swayed a bit, though he could pass it off as though the motion of the bus had caused it. He held in a groan and sat down next to Charlie. He shoved his backpack down between his feet. He was tempted to just let his head rest against the back of the seat in front of him. The bus had only been in motion for a few minutes, but he was already light-headed again.

A flutter of panic hit his chest as he realised Charlie had said something else, and he’d missed it.

“What?” he asked, slumping back in his seat.

“I said, ‘how are you?’” Charlie shrugged, still wearing that smile. “You okay?”

Shayne nodded briskly, glad that Charlie provided him with an adjective that he could lie and agree to. It saved him having to fabricate a lie himself.

“You?” he asked, feeling secure in the knowledge that anyone – including Charlie – could easily be distracted if they were coaxed into talking about themselves.

“Yeah, I’m…” Charlie sighed, glancing at his notes. “I’m half-dead this morning. Just hoping my coffee kicks in before second class, for the history test.”

As a fun kick to the ribs when he was already down, Shayne had forgotten about the test. He’d also likely forgotten every word of their history textbook. His found it hard to concentrate these days, and everything that passed in front of his face seemed to dissolve somewhere between his eyeballs and his brain.

“Hey, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Fuck. Charlie had wasted no time in swinging the focus back towards Shayne.

Shayne felt his heart start to pound, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. He hated this. He wished he’d found somewhere else to sit. He missed the days when nobody gave a shit, nobody asked him questions like how he was or if he was feeling okay. He’d blacked out in art class the previous term, and nobody had even noticed; they’d all just assumed he’d put his head down to go to sleep.

And yet, Charlie… Charlie saw him.

He wondered what would happen if he told him the truth. If he said that he was scared and ashamed to eat anything, that he was so hungry his stomach hurt, that this was still so much better than the alternatives...

Shayne glared at the back of the seat in front of him, hating himself for even considering burdening Charlie with all of that. Charlie was staring, still waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t exactly look worried yet. One advantage of being a miserable bastard was that Shayne didn’t have to put up an exhausting, cheerful façade.

“Kind of tired,” he said finally.

“Okay." Charlie frowned. "Well, I’m going to read over my notes a few more times, but if you’re really tired, I’ve been told my shoulder makes a good pillow.”

Shayne blinked with genuine incomprehension. The words didn’t stick in his brain long enough for him to dissect them; all he could really focus on was trying to breathe in time with the hunger pangs fluctuating in his stomach. He could usually keep it relatively quiet that way, but being this close to Charlie was making him even more anxious than usual.

“What?” he mumbled.

Charlie’s eyelashes fluttered as he broke into another smile, his gaze flicking away from Shayne’s. “Um, you can sleep on my shoulder, if you want.”

Shayne scoffed under his breath.

“Or don’t,” Charlie laughed, turning his attention towards his notes. “Whatever.”

Shayne’s gaze wandered towards the paper in Charlie’s hands, skimming over the headings that he’d jotted down in his annoyingly pretty handwriting. The topics sounded vaguely familiar, like he remembered them from a movie he hadn’t watched since he was a toddler. Like he’d last heard them from the other side of a thick veil.

His stomach pinched, and he realised he was hugging his waist again in an attempt to ease the pain and muffle any unwanted noise. He swallowed harshly, glancing from Charlie’s notes to Charlie’s shoulder and remembering his offer.

It was so silly. And yet Shayne wriggled a little closer.

The fabric of Charlie’s jacket was cool, unpleasantly so, against his cheek at first, but he quickly got over it. His head instantly felt better, supported by something solid instead of trying to follow the turns of the bus. Shayne inhaled deeply as his stomach squeezed and his shoulders tensed against the pain. A low grumble began to surface, soft enough that he covered it up with a sigh.

“I know I sound like a broken record,” Charlie said, startling Shayne a bit, since he’d thought he’d gone back to revising. “But… you can tell me if something’s wrong.”

“I’m fine,” Shayne said. The words felt like shards in his throat. He didn’t know – wouldn’t realise for a while yet – why it was getting more and more difficult to bring himself to lie to Charlie.

Charlie nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Shayne closed his eyes and continued taking deep, delicate breaths.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 8

Cult girl and Hannibal go through an exhaustive list of potential adoptive couples. 

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warning: sexual harassment, christianity, discussion of pregnancy and family planning, adoption, murder and cannibalism 

Step two: find an adoptive family.

Some would say your list of expectations for potential adoptive parents was too extensive. Impossible for any human to reach. But it was really just the bare minimum.

Regardless of if they were two men, two women, one of each, or a few people, the parents had to be trustworthy. It wasn't easy to earn Hannibal's trust, but he could recognize those who had the capacity to right away. It was a little instinct you had dubbed 'friend or food'.

On paper, the apostolic pastor and his wife of 19 years seemed like the perfect candidates. The adoption agency tried to push them on you, as they had a great track record with adopting from them prior. Three boys, all of which were honors students.

Hannibal insisted on a formal introduction, during which you could conduct a proper, though surreptitious, interview. It was an invitation to dinner.

He invited the couple into his office, where a pot of tea and an interrogation was waiting for them. Then there was you. Barely-pregnant little [F/N], feeling entirely safe so long as your fiancé was beside you.

"You're doing the right thing, y'know." The woman, who introduced herself as Mrs. Landon, said upon meeting you.

"How do you mean?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"All god's life is precious." She said, placing a hand on your not-even-remotely-showing-yet stomach. "You're walking in obedience to the lord by giving this child a shot at life."

Strike one: bringing up religion unprompted. Strike two: touching me without asking first.

You wanted to swat her hand away, but remembered that patience was a virtue. She and her husband took a seat across from you.

"Y'know," The man began, his mannerisms eerily similar to those of his wife. "I don't usually begin with the god talk, but I think a higher power had to have been involved in the conception of this- well, our child. I'd like to think the good lord brought us together today."

Strike three: already believes he is entitled to my child. You're outta here.

"Don't flatter the adoption agency like that, Jacob." Hannibal chuckled, placing his teacup on the side table.

"I'm serious, Dr. Lecter." Jacob interjected. "Faith and I really do believe that god put us on this earth to prepare his smallest soldiers for the spiritual war."

You shot Hannibal a side glance that said 'can we please just eat them now?'.

The answer was no. Hannibal liked to play with his food.

"And your adult children have all moved out?" He asked.

"That's right." Jacob nodded. "We have plenty of room in our five-bedroom house for the new little slugger to run around in."

"And if it's a girl!" The wife interrupted. "We have enough closet space for all the denim maxi-skirts money could buy."

Strike four: arbitrarily genders the behavior of a nine-week-old embryo.

The man then returned the teacup to the table, not bothering to use the saucer and instead leaving a nasty ring of condensation on the polished mahogany.

"Okay." Hannibal huffed, resignedly rising from his seat. He pulled two hypodermic needles from his back pocket and carefully, subtly stuck them onto the couples' necks. They couldn't even scream.

The tacos al pastor that followed (after a few days of marinating, of course) were exquisite.

The next week brought a new couple to your doorstep. Frank and Angela, they were named. Their claim to fame was that their oldest son played football for one of those big southern party schools. Either Auburn or Alabama. There was hardly a difference.

You sat for what felt like hours listening to the man speak in unintelligible football babble, waiting for him to take a breath. Surprisingly, it was the mom who got him to finally shut up.

"Frank, please." She said with more frustration than this one situation even remotely warranted. Either she had enough intuition to know she was being tested, or she’d spent the last decade putting up with this. Possibly both. "You're boring our hosts to death."

"What? No way! She loves it!" Frank replied, then turned to you. Not to Hannibal, just you. “Aren’t you having a great time, sweetheart?” 

Strike one: takes advantage of the female socialization to be passive and polite, allowing himself to take up the most space.

You shook your head. “I hate football.” 

His wife looked quite pleased with herself. 

“Angie, I just wanted her to know what good breeding her son is going to have.” He said, without a lick of irony or self-awareness. He eyed you up and down and licked his lips. “And it is mutual, I see.” 

The room went quiet as everyone tried to determine whether he was serious or if it was just a fucked-up joke. The longer the silence lingered, the more you realized he wasn’t kidding. Angela looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I don’t know what the agency told you, Mr. Wyatt,” Hannibal said, trying not to grit his teeth. “She isn’t a surrogate. She’s already pregnant.” 

Frank’s jaw hung dumbly open. “I thought you were looking for a sperm donor? I just-” 

“No.” You cut him off, raising your hand and covering your face. “I don’t want to know what you thought.” 

“Well, I would!” Angela interjected, righteous fury eclipsing what should have been crippling embarrassment. “What exactly did you think this was, Francis?” 

“The file said that he was over fifty, so I just assumed--” Frank rationalized, his voice far too loud for the room. “Y’know? That she wanted a baby that wouldn’t come out all funny-looking?” 

“You’re disgusting.” You blurted out. 

“Francis Howard Wyatt,” Angela scolded as if she were talking to her son. “You are forty-eight and the only increasing part of your body is your blood pressure. Why on Earth would any woman choose you over her smart, handsome doctor fiancé?”

This made Hannibal sit up a little straighter. He wanted Francis on the butcher’s block yesterday, but he momentarily considered letting Angela live. 

“They’re not married?” Frank whispered, or whatever the loud-aggressive-toxic-masculinity version of whispering was. He paused, as the dead hamster on the wheel powering his brain crept back to life. “That actually makes sense.” 

Angela loudly smacked her hand against her face. “Dr. Lecter, Ms. [L/N], I am so sorry.” 

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Wyatt.” Hannibal stood up, readying the next batch of needles. “It just makes what I’m about to do easier.” 

It took quite a bit of restraint to not make their deaths hurt, but he made up for it when it came time to carve. He had fun running his fittingly small penis through a meat grinder. Not with any intent to cook it, though. Just because. 

Hannibal wanted to make Francis Wyatt into the least dignified meal imaginable. You quickly recalled going to a friend’s barbeque in Georgia and encountering a horrendously Southern delicacy known as Frito Pie. You proposed the idea to Hannibal, who, after reviling in abject horror at the notion of eating something out of a bag, agreed that it was the most fitting end. He could spare a few pounds of flesh to grind up and make into chili. 

The third week brought yet another couple. They seemed smart enough to realize your invitation wasn't the friendly olive branch the others had interpreted it as. Their healthy skepticism was refreshing, to say the least. Then, you met them: Max and Archie.

"You'll have to forgive my partner's paranoia." Max said upon entering the house. He tugged playfully at Archie's hand. "We watched Get Out recently, so an invitation to the suburbs sounded some alarms in his sleep-deprived brain."

"I love that movie." You chimed in. "It reminds me of my family."

"Oh no." Archie's eyes widened in only half-pretend fear. He shot an I-told-you-so look in his partner's direction. 

"But my favorite horror flick has to be Midsommar." You added. "My friends and I saw a midnight screening and we didn't sleep at all that night."

"But have you seen Hereditary?" Archie posited.

"Of course." You shrugged. "Aster is totally genius."

You made more than just polite conversation with the couple. Max, despite his young age, was a skilled data analyst and day trader. He attributed his success to the hard work of his immigrant parents. Archie was an environmental lawyer and land activist. He was also a bit of a thrill junkie, indulging in everything from scary movies to bungee jumping.

It didn't take long to realize that you wouldn't be eating them. They were far too pleasant of company to eat.

"So when is this baby planning to make its entrance?" Archie asked, gesturing to you. "You don’t look all that pregnant to me."

You put your hand over your slightly-protruding stomach. "Late August, I believe. If everything goes according to plan."

"You're not far along at all, aren’t you?" Max observed. "That gives us plenty of time to prove ourselves to you."

"Believe me." You put up your hand. "You're doing a great job so far."

“If you like horror stories, we might have to indulge you in the last two encounters we had.” Hannibal commented, leaning back comfortably in his chair. That was a good sign. “No blood was spilled, thank god. Would have ruined my carpets. But believe me when I tell you it came very close.” 

The couple laughed along. Archie leaned in like he was about to tell a life-shattering secret. “You wouldn’t believe the hoops we had to jump through to even have the chance to adopt. And I don’t want to say that it’s because we’re an interracial gay couple, but...” 

“Agencies aren’t exactly colorblind.” You finished, via his prompting. 

“She gets it.” Archie pointed to you. “See, Maxie? She agrees with me.” 

Max pushed his glasses up his nose. “I never said I disagreed.” 

You spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for the conversation to take a sharp left turn off a cliff, but it didn’t happen. They were wonderful company; polite, intelligent and articulate. Exactly the kind of people you’d want to see taking care of your child. 

You’d have to look for you next meal elsewhere. 

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day one of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! I’ll be participating this month as a writer! The prompt for today is Knife!

warnings for mentions of suicidal ideation and attempts, death, child abuse, and blood.

Billy met Steve in the psych ward.

Well, they met officially at Tina’s party, but that wasn’t the real Steve. That was the King Steve. Deeper than that though, even the Steve Harrington everyone else saw even after the breakup and the fall from grace still wasn’t the real thing.

That was fake smiles, overdone nonchalance to cover up the wound from his fallen status. Now he was stripped down to himself, all bloody bandages and tired eyes, the boy he was pretending to be finally broken down to reveal this.

Apparently, Ruthie Harrington found her son with his grandfather's switchblade- all the other objects in the house sharper than a spoon and with less sentimental value had already been tossed -bleeding all over her freshly polished linoleum floors. She dropped him off at the hospital a night ago and nobody’s been by to see him since.

Now, it’s by pure coincidence that Billy’s already in on the same day Steve’s admitted.

He’s been locked up the past three days compared to Steve’s one. These small town hicks are jumpier (ha) than he thought, and don’t think doing the walk and turn test on the edge of the quarry after downing a bottle and a half of fireball is as funny as he does. Whatever. Cid would’ve thought that was badass as hell.

So he was admitted, on suicide watch for a stupid joke that wasn’t really worth it, or even really a joke. Max came to visit once. She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and cursed him out for an hour. She’d never done that before. By the time she left they were both in tears, and maybe Billy realized a thing or too about his carelessness. Realized for the first time that someone cared.

But he’s still in here for another week and a half by law, so. He’s not going to mope about it. And while Steve Harrington showing up is about the last thing he’s expecting, he decides that’s at least something he can work with. Definitely brings a little life to the place.

He waits until Steve’s intense watch period is over to bug him, once they’re out of their cramped little rooms for a couple of hours to “socialize” (see, the more sound of mind keep an eye on the other patients while the nurses take their smoke breaks) Billy goes straight to Steve. Him and Harrington are far from friends, but that’s pretty much irrelevant when the only other choices for company are kids younger than them too scared to approach them and people too deep in their midlife crises to bother with teenage drama.

Throwing himself down in the blue plastic chair across from where Steve settled in, Billy kicks his feet up on the table,, “What’s up Harrington? Didn’t expect to see a familiar face in here.”

But Steve, poor Steve, takes one look at Billy with those haunted brown eyes, and his face just falls completely apart. There are tears on his way too pale cheeks before Billy even has a chance to breathe.

The smile drops off of Billy’s face, “Jesus Harrington, I know m’not looking my best surviving on hospital food and cigarettes without a hairbrush, but that’s a little unwarranted.”

“Shut up. Not everything’s about you, Hargrove.”

“Oh I disagree with that. But I get the point. I’ll let ya be.” Billy hums, scooting his chair back and getting up. He stops when Steve starts to speak, “Y-You outta be careful saying that kinda stuff in here.”

“What?”

“That the world revolves around you. They’ll come up with a diagnosis for that and keep you here forever. Drug you ‘til you forget your own name, let alone your status.” Steve tells him with humor, wiping the tears off his face.

Billy nods in understanding, sits back down with an interested smirk, “This ain’t your first time here, is it?”

“Is it yours?”

“Nah. I’ve done some shit on purpose, some on accident. Once it wasn’t even me. But s’never done anything to help so far.”

Steve puffs out a sigh, “Don’t I know it.. I’ve been in and outta this place since I was like, ten. Clearly nothing’s changed.”

“Why? What’s your dirty little secret, Harrington?”

“I cut myself, dumbass.” He deadpans, looking at Billy with a bluntness in his expression that reads more concerning, more like indifference to what he just said than matter-of-fact.

“No shit. But that ain’t the secret.” Billy probes further, can tell he’s getting under that mask Steve wears, “Why do you do it?”

“Legally, I can't tell you. And I don’t think I would anyways.”

“What about if I tell you all about me first? I got no reservations ‘cept the one that got me a bed here.”

“It’s not a hotel, Hargrove.”

“Eh, might as well be. Feels like the damn hotel California.”

“Is that why?”

“Huh? Oh no, I been pullin’ stunts like this long before we left Cali.”

“Like what?”

“Like downing two full bottles of my mother’s meds after she left. Not at the same time obviously, or I wouldn’t be here. Mostly ‘cause my dad didn’t even wanna take me to the hospital either time.” Billy doesn’t look at Steve while he elaborates. Not because he cares, he’s an open book, if a random old woman at the grocery store asked about his last attempt, he’d tell her.

But. He doesn’t like watching people’s faces. Seeing sympathy and concern there. It makes him feel all stupid and guilty. It’s usually not like that with other kids like him, but Steve’s different. He’s got a big heart. Even if there’s no room for himself.

And Billy hurt Steve before. He doesn’t want to see someone he caused pain caring so much about him. He already cracked when Max came to see him. This could be what splits him open, spills out all the things he’s covered up.

So he keeps going, “And like runnin’ out in front of traffic with my friends. They thought we were just playin’ chicken ‘til I stopped dead in front of a station wagon. Metal rims’d done me in for sure if one ‘a the older boys hadn’t pulled me outta the way. Damn near ripped my shirt in half how fast he grabbed me.”

“I’m guessing your parents are the reason why then?”

“Yessir.” Billy deflects, not good at getting deeper into it, “You wanna tell me yours then?”

“I started cutting because Tommy Hagan told me about it. He thought it was freaky, but when he ran his mouth about how they found the neighbor kid in his room, drained of all his blood from his wrists, I wanted to try it. I’ve tried liquor and drugs and all kinds ‘a shit I shouldn’t, but nothin’ stuck like cutting.” Steve pauses for a long time, his eyes going blank, staring right past Billy, “When my mom found out she.. she.. Forget it.”

“Hey, you seen my skeletons. Can’t I see yours?”

“No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it anymore.” Steve answers, despite his assuredness, his tone wobbling with some unidentifiable emotion.

Talk about mood swings. Billy doesn’t get how nobody would’ve noticed something was up before Steve started carving into himself. Really, he knows someone would have seen it and just ignored it.

It only gets worse though, the reservedness turning to sadness and frustration. None of the words are coming out, but he can tell Steve’s thinking of the stories, reliving all that got him to the here and now. Billy can also tell there’s nothing he can do no to stop him from doomsdaying.

So when Steve is inevitably in the thralls of a panic attack, he tries to hug him tight, to try to get it to stop maybe, that always worked for him at least, but Steve swats him away. Judging from the way he winces, it’s not easy for him to do either, with those thick ass bandages constricting his wrists, but the tears and the pain on his face are buried behind his resolution.

He’s hiding something from Billy.

In hindsight, talking to a new patient about past attempts probably wasn’t his brightest idea anyways, so he switches the subject while Steve works on coming down from his panic attack. He brings up Max and her little nerds, trying to bridge the healthier connections between him and Steve that they’d both been ignoring since the fight. He mentions basketball too, another something they have in common other than trying to kill themselves.

It doesn’t really work, though Steve does stop shaking as bad, just curling up in his little chair and sniffling, pretending not to listen while Billy rambles on and on. But he doesn’t talk. It’s probably better for him not to anyway. Billy himself has been known to say some dumb shit when he’s in distress.

Ultimately, even once the conversation runs out, he stays with Steve until dark. He can tell from the way his gaze sticks to the floor that Steve recovered from his fit a while ago, but he’s embarrassed by having a breakdown in front of him, as if he isn’t in here for the same reason. It helps that he gets it though, and they sit in a comfortable, albeit very prolonged, silence.

Long after Steve gets xanned up and knocked out though, while Billy is still free to wander until the midnight curfew as a low risk patient, he decides to stick with him in his room. Billy’ll never admit it, but he gets nightmares, and he doesn’t want to face that just yet, so with a new friend as an excuse, he’s up half the night watching Steve sleep.

He remembers what happened earlier, how focused Steve was on keeping him away from him, despite his panic, and decides, with a glance at how deeply Steve is sleeping, his greasy hair all strewn about on stiff pillows, that he’s going to figure out what it was.

He snoops around in his bedside drawers, in the bathroom, in the locker in the corner. It’s there he notices the knitted jacket Steve was wearing before, hanging heavy to one side, like there’s something in its pocket. He touches it and feels the outline of something small, so he pulls it out.

He regrets checking though, because it’s a knife. Judging from the old looking engravings on its handle, and the coppery stains within the grooves, it’s specifically the very same one that got Steve hospitalized.

He shoves it in his own back pocket and keeps looking, with a quick glance at Steve, finding a note tucked where the knife had been. Written in perfect scrawl on bond paper that’s been folded a dozen times and stained with tears,

“Do it right next time, why don’t you? Your mother is too soft on you. I’m not paying for this again.

- J.Harrington.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but throw the note in the trash. Not really in shock, but definitely more than a little fucked up from reading that, he sits on the end of Steve’s bed. His own dad, who'd more than once been the one putting him in the hospital, had never even said anything like that to him.

He didn’t get to talk to Steve much today, but they’ve got as long as Billy’s stuck in here together to fix that. Longer if he just pulls something in front of a nurse. And he wants to, really really wants to.

Because he knows he just met the real Steve, can recognize another broken boy when he sees one, and he knows too, that he never wants to meet a pretty boy like this again.

And if that’s his declaration to get clean, then so fucking be it.

But. He never promised not to hurt anyone. Ultimately he’d still need that outlet.

He keeps the knife. To make sure his pretty boy doesn’t get hurt again.

[phantomrose96]

New BNHA, new liveblog, 0 miles today because the gyms are all closed. this is weird for me.

REALLY loving each and every one of the hand-wavy reasons Horikoshi gives for “fuck it i just wanted Aizawa (or maybe Mirio?) to adopt a kid”

Aizawa: “Look, the hospital kicked her out, her parents are MIA, her grandpa’s in a coma, and it’s not like Mirio is doing anything right now.” Mirio: “Haha yeah :DD”

“We worked for like 15 episodes to steal her, you think we’d just, what, give her BACK? Finders fucking keepers, Midoriya.”

Sometimes a family is an out-of-commission 18 year old, a really tired teacher, a traumatized little girl, and the ugliest godDAMN sweater on the planet

Dats gay

I really like the Wild Wild Pussycats casual clothes???

Their whole aesthetic is Your Three Lesbian Aunts And One Gay Uncle Visiting For Thanksgiving

Kota has... Deku’s Shoes... thats real fucking cute

SPEAKING of cute: Ragdoll is an absolute gem and I wish there was more of her in the Training Camp arc she’s a real cutie

I’m glad we’re finally learning how rankings work, considering the very concept of the ranking system has been absolutely core to the series since Day 1. Like 90-something episodes in and Horikoshi is finally like “oh i should explain how that works”

I’m a big fan of how, whenever something Thematically Relevant to Todoroki is said, they just have to pan to his blank face, because it’s not like he’d ever. you know. participate in the conversation. not his style. we only get the Meaningful Panning Shot.

Is that

Is that a

Is that a washing machine?

Is the #8 hero a washing machine?

Never mind

Wait is THAT man just named Crust?? Poor bastard is the #6 hero and his hero name is crust.

Like I KNOW it’s a japanese show and they can’t know all the impli--but i mean, but i

“Most Underappreciated Part of a Pizza Hero: Crust”

oh HELL YEAH

OH HELL YEAH

also btw i really like Edgeshot’s voice. especially during the Kamino arc. it’s like, hypnotically chill

its him... finally... the bastard of lore.... i’ve heard whispers of this fucker

oh like he’s an ASSHOLE-ASSHOLE

“Who are you trying to make happy with that statement? Stain?” O H SO like he’s an A S S H O L E

Mirko: “You’re an asshole. ...I LIKE that” 

how quick i am to stan two separate characters within 30 seconds of meeting them

what arrogance. what audacity. what flippant fucking disregard. i’d like TWELVE of him please.

Hawks: -speaks- Me:

you know whats great? you know whats fantastic? his whole wing motif. because it doesn’t matter that Endeavor’s like 6′5″, Hawks can still float above him and condescend to him 

hes looking down his fucking nose at this man. ICONIC.

Hawks: “Just so everyone knows, I have a higher approval rating than Endeavor, and I have more fans, and my hair is way better than his. Anyway, you wanted to microphone, Bitch Boi?”

REALLY vibing with Hawks’ sarcasti-clapping of Endeavor’s speech to a completely silent audience

ASJSAHJAS, AN ICON. #1 HERO OF MY HEART, HAWKS

“Shame” as a quirk is a hilarious concept. And also how do you discover this? “Little Timmy’s fly was open at school and he promptly took out a wall”

and Hawks just fucking DECKS him from behind. LOVE the bait and switch of Shame-Man being important.

Endeavor: “Is he... is he dead?” Hawks: “Hot pot!! :DD”

The stupidest looking dog. i LOVE it

Just jumping in front of a truck for NO narrative reason other to have Hawks’ feathers save it

while hawks is STILL TALKING ABOUT FOOD

I MEAN BITCH SAME, BITCH RELATABLE, BUT LIKE

CHEEKY. love his stupid bits of English.

the autograph signing scene was basically just the Talent Show episode of Spongebob where Squidward and Spongebob do exactly the same thing, Spongebob being met with uproarious applause and Squidward being met with dead silence.

me buying shit in a craft store i cannot possibly need nor use, but it was shiny and only $5

Hawks calls Tokoyami “Tsukuyomi”?? am i missing something there or did he straight up get the name wrong?

Hawks: “I tried to scout your son but turns out he’s a failure. Runs in the family? :D”

85% of the reason I’m loving Hawks is because he’s JUST here to make Endeavor’s life harder, and that’s something I support every day of the week.

Hawks: “I just want to complain about how nothing happened today and then go to bed”

That one’s not a joke thats a direct fucking quote and WOW BITCH SAME

Endeavor: “how do you know about these Nomu rumors?” Hawks: “I’m a nosy bitch who loves gossip and can’t mind my own business? How would I not know about this???”

I understand this is a serious and dramatic screenshot, but also I’m too caught up in the notion that - when experiencing some strong emotion - Todo can’t help but just Light Himself A Little On Fire

Deku: “Good morning Todoroki! Are you ready for our English test today? :D” Shouto: -catches fire- Shouto: “...Our what”

Lunchrush: “Hey there, what can I get you?” Shouto: “The cold soba” Lunchrush: “All out of cold soba, sorry” Shouto: -catches fire- “That’s fine. Just the ramen then.”

Endeavor: “Hey.. son... Shouto... I’ve been thinking... With all the steps I’ve made to be a better hero, don’t you think maybe it’s time you forgive me?” Shouto: -actively on fire. 100% encased in flame- “Let me think about it.”

[omlwhatamidoinghere]

Mr. Moreno

Chapter 3: Off-Campus Housing

Summary: Marcus decides it's time for some new scenery during your tutoring session

Warnings: SMUT, language, fluff, teacher x f!student, daddy kink/age kink (all parties are above the age of 18)

Word Count: 3,347!

Check out my masterlist!

_________________

Life has been great!

You're getting good grades, your dad just got a promotion he's been waiting 4 years for, your psychology research was accepted to be part of the department's upcoming journal, and- most importantly- you're sleeping with your professor. Well...maybe "sleeping with" isn't the correct terminology.

The multiple rendez-vous with Mr. Moreno have consisted of him going down on you, you going down on him, your hands down each other's pants and pretty much everything except the main event. That's the one thing he won't do. Yes, you two have definitely had some fun times but he won't go past eating you out and you sucking his cock. Ever since his wife passed, he hasn't had the urge to be with another person in that way. The day he met you, things started to change.

=======

Marcus' daughter, Missy, even noticed he was acting weird that day and confronted him about it. Taking him by the hand to the living room, she sat him down on the couch, "Dad, who is she?" Immediately turning red, "W-what? Who- what are you...I don't...I'm...she's not- she's...why are you-"

"Dad" The pose she strikes radiates the sass that she definitely got from him.

A sigh passes through his lips, "She's...she's just someone I met at work-"

"Someone you LIKE!" Missy cuts him off. She has never seen her dad act this way. She's only heard the stories of how he acted around her mom before they started dating, he must really like this girl.

======

It's not that Marcus hasn't thought about having sex with you- he has and does often- the silver ring that remains on his finger, encompassing the relationship he once had, stirs up this feeling of guilt if he were to have sex with another woman. Even though he knows his late wife wants him to move on and be happy, Marcus still doesn't feel right doing so.

Thank the stars it's the end of the week! Between finishing your project for Mr. Moreno's class and conducting more research for the psychology department, you've been stressed out of your mind. Not only was this week busy, but you also have a test in one of your classes next week. At least today the university decided to give everyone a rest day and treat them to a three-day weekend, even though you're spending it by coming to campus to have Mr. Moreno look over your project. A pleased sigh leaves your lips as you enter the classroom, greeted by a grin from the leader of the Heroics, who is currently talking to one of his fellow teammates, Miracle Guy. He notices his loss of Marcus' attention, immediately realizing who you are, "Well hello there! I've heard so much about you!" If you weren't in the classroom right now, Marcus probably would have knocked him right in the chest. Instead, he turns his head slowly back towards Miracle Guy, his face plastered with a look that can only be taken as 'you need to shut up'.

Setting your bag down as your gaze meets the Heroic's, you're taken back by his last statement, "You...you have?"

"Yeah! Mr. Moreno talks about you all the time! He's always saying how his favorite student is extremely smart and well-rounded!"

Your heart pounds in your ears, hoping Miracle Guy sees past the shade of red currently radiating from your face. You glance over at Marcus and feel heat grow between your legs. If he could kill with a look, Miracle Guy would be dead on the floor right now. The intensity of his stare is enough to make you drop to your knees right there. Your gaze lingers a little too long when Marcus looks over to you and notices your lip between your teeth, his glare changes tones at the sight. The look that fills his wonderfully dark eyes, the same lust-filled look from when he peers up at you from between your legs, causes a flutter deep inside.

"Just fuck each other already!"

Both of you snap from your trance over to Miracle Guy, "What? It's so obvious you both want it! I figured with how much you talk about her, Marcus, that you were already fucking her but I-"

Marcus cuts him off, grabbing his arm and dragging him into his office as you follow with your bag. Shutting the door, Marcus pushes him down into a chair, "We HAVE done stuff." The look on Miracle Guy's face slips to a state of confusion, "But...wait....I thought you said....you told me you haven't..." a sigh passes through Marcus' lips, "We haven't had sex. But we've done other things." A blush dusts your cheeks, Miracle Guy slowly picking up on what Marcus means, "Oooohhhhhhhh....nice! See? Still know how to treat a woman even as an old man-"

"I'm not that old."

"And I really don't care about the age difference." You chime in. Both of them turn to you, "Plus, he's the only man I know that doesn't act like a twelve-year-old," you start to mumble, "Not to mention he's really sexy..."

"What was that?" Marcus leans towards you in hopes of you repeating what you just said. Miracle Guy starts to push, "Yeah I heard you say something but I couldn't tell what it was-"

"I said he's really sexy. Just because he's older doesn't mean he isn't sexy."

Marcus' face matches the embarrassed shade of your own, "You...you think I'm sexy?" Your eyes turn to meet his, "Well yeah! Have you seen yourself?" Miracle Guy remains with his jaw on the floor as the two men take in what you said. A few minutes pass before anyone says anything again, "I think I'm gonna head out. It was nice to finally meet you!" Miracle Guy reaches out to shake your hand. Reaching out to shake his, "A pleasure to meet you as well! Hopefully next time we run into each other it won't be as awkward. Thanks for not telling anyone." With a nod, he steps out of the office, leaving you and Marcus. His eyes lock on yours as he closes the distance between your bodies. Warm, strong hands gently caress your arms, his breath is hot against your ear, "So...you think I'm sexy?" His voice, deep and husky as he moves down to your neck. His teeth graze your skin, a gasp leaves your lips, "Marcus..." His name is a soft whisper filled with desperation. You move your hand up to his hair, your fingers running through each strand causing Marcus to release a low growl against your neck as he continues leaving marks. "Marcus, wait...I need you to....I came in to...-" his lips still on your neck, "Tell me baby." "Why is it so difficult to say something as easy as I came in to see if you could look at my paper?" This man has so much power over you and all he's done so far today is kiss your neck and whisper in your ear. Granted, you can't help but think of all the things he's done to you previously. Stars, you can't help but imagine how amazing he must be in bed...so strong...taking control of you...- see this? This is why he has so much power over you; you can't stop thinking of him. "Baby?" His glasses bump into your jaw as he pulls back to look at you, "What is it?"

"I came in to see if you...um...if you could look over my project?"

His look of realization as he fixes his glasses makes you giggle, "I completely forgot about that...I saw your email and everything and I was going to write you back but then Miracle Guy called and said he was coming in to visit and I got distracted but yes I would love to look over your project." Grabbing your paper out of your bag, still flustered from everything that just happened prior to this moment. Handing it to Marcus, you both take a seat at his desk. He reads over it, paying attention to every detail, biting his lip in concentration. "What the hell? Can you think about anything other than him bending you over his desk and- who are you kidding, of course you can't." He notices your gaze drifting off as he peeks up at you from your paper, "Sweetheart..." You don't hear him talking to you as your mind continues to wander, "...his hands on you...his lips on your body...with how he big he feels in your mouth imagine how he feels in your-" he tries to get your attention again, "Hello? Are you alright?" Still not hearing him, "...and his beard against your skin, especially on your neck and between your thighs..." You still don't notice him as he walks around his desk and leans back against it right in front of you, "Sweetheart, are you alright?" Finally, you come back to your senses. Feeling extremely embarrassed, your cheeks flush red, giving away exactly what was going on in your thoughts. A smirk decorates Marcus' face while he rolls up his sleeves, drawing your attention to his now exposed forearms. "What was going on in that pretty little head of yours, sweetheart?" Even though you two have done a lot together, you still avert your gaze from his, still too shy to admit the dirty thoughts you have of him...not to mention how often you think those thoughts. He gently grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to meet his eyes. Pulling you closer, Marcus' lips barely graze against yours, his breath hot on your skin. His voice drops into a low gravely tone, "Tell Daddy what you were thinking about, all those dirty thoughts that I know run through your mind...be a good girl and tell me..." Your breath leaves your body in a soft moan. Trying to collect yourself, "I was...I-I was thinking of....umm...you...your...uh..I..."

"If you tell me, I just may do it..."

A gasp powers you to kind of form a sentence, "I w-was thinking about you...and what you do to me...and the all the things you could do to me...being underneath you...nearly breaking whatever you're pounding me into..." Marcus lets out a low moan as he pulls you in and kisses you, his tongue already finding its way past your lips. The sounds you make in response cause him to press against his pants. His hands find their way into your hair and on your lower back, pulling you closer. He continues to moan as you kiss, "Damn he's so hot when he moans. Oh my STARS I want to really hear him moan" He pulls back, his hands still on you, "Baby, we should go somewhere..." slightly confused on his comment, "What? Where would we..what do you mean?" His eyes grow dark with lust again, "Some place where we won't get caught when I make you scream my name so much you forget your own..." A whimper escapes your lips faster than you can process Marcus' words. "I'll take that as a yes. Where should we go sweetheart?" You pause a moment to consider, "Well, my apartment is two minutes away. I can send you my address and you can meet me over there." Giving you another kiss before pulling back again, "Sounds like a plan. I'll be over in a few." As you fix yourself up and start to walk away, Marcus quickly reaches out, giving you a quick smack, winking at you with a cheeky grin when you turn to look back at him.

You make it to your car and back to your apartment within a few minutes. Racing inside, you see that none of your roommates are home, remembering they left for the weekend. Quickly climbing the stairs up to your room, you change your bra and underwear to the set you just bought a few days ago, put some dirty clothes in the laundry basket and make sure everything is cleaned up, not forgetting to light a nice candle to set the mood a little more. A few minutes pass and you hear a car door as a text pops up on your screen

"Come open the door, baby ;)"

Trying not to fall down the stairs as you eagerly skip steps, you finally reach the door. Doing one last appearance check, you open the door. On the other side, Marcus leans with one arm against the door frame, closing the gap between your bodies as soon as the door closes behind him. His lips almost on yours, "Where's your room?" Grabbing onto his tie, you pull him in for a kiss, "Up the stairs, the door next to the bath-" before you could finish your sentence, Marcus had you up and over his shoulder, walking up the stairs. Reaching behind him, he waves his hand and locks the door. Once he reaches your room, he lays you down on the bed, kicking off his shoes and climbing on top of you, that familiar look floods his deep eyes again. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, sweetheart." Giving him a smirk, "You have no idea how many times I've gotten myself off to the thought of you." His lips meet yours in a heated clash. Your arms find their way around his neck as his hands find the button to your jeans. Marcus pulls back to slip off your shirt before kissing down your body; on your lips, to your jaw, down your neck, down your chest, past your stomach. Carefully sliding your jeans off, he continues to kiss your body as it becomes exposed. Soft whimpers from you and groans from Marcus fill the room, his lips never leaving your skin. His teeth grab onto your thigh, forcing a loud moan to escape from your throat. Marcus peers up at you with that infamous look of his, "Ooo, baby likes that, doesn't she?" He bites down on you again, getting the same reaction as before, "You sound so pretty. So good for me." His words only turn you on more. "P-please....please....I..I-I need..." He moves back up to your face, "What is it sweetheart?" You moan breathily in his ear, "I need you. Please, Mr. Moreno..." The groan that comes from his lips makes you even hotter for him, your wetness growing rapidly. Even in class, when you call him "Mr. Moreno", your innocent voice masking your filthy intent, his zipper threatens to break from how hard his cock gets. Burying his face in your neck, Marcus' mustache scratching against your delicate skin, "Say it again," his voice dropping to a growl, "say my name again." His hips begin to create friction between your legs while he awaits your response. The things this man does to you, you feel as if you could get off just from him grinding into you as his voice resonates through your soul. Biting the bottom of your ear, he forces sounds to escape your lips but no words can form, "Come on, baby. Be a good girl for me"

"Mr. Moreno, pleeeaaassee"

His lips travel back down your body as he begins to pull you apart, thread by thread. Settling back between your thighs, his hot breath sends a shiver through you. His tongue licks through your folds, already drenched and melting in his touch. "Already so wet for me, baby" he slips two fingers inside you, "How often have you gotten yourself off to the thought of me, baby?" A moan brings an answer to your lips, "All the time...I think about you all the time....think about you touching me...your strong arms around my waist...your hands on me...you-your fingers...doing..."

"Doing this?"

A curve in his fingers guides you closer to the edge. His name escapes your mouth in a chant, the only word your mind can conjure. The sounds you sing only make his aching stronger and stronger until he snaps, "Baby, I need to be inside of you." Your head moves to meet his eyes as he carefully takes his fingers out of you and places them in his mouth. A groan rumbles through his chest as he cleans them off, keeoing eye contact the entire time. Biting your lip, you hold back a moan as you watch Marcus undress before you, taking in the jaw-dropping sight of his naked body. You sit up and crawl to meet him at the foot of the bed, your hands discovering his skin, your lips are soft against his tanned and toned chest. His hands gently push against your shoulders, "As nice as that feels, there's something tighter I wanna feel around me. Be a good girl and lay back for Daddy." The growl sounding like a command, you do as he tells you. Climbing on top of you, his hands land on either side of your head, dragging your focus up his flexed muscles and to his lustful eyes. You can see the hesitation behind his prowling gaze. Arms and legs wrapping around him, "It's alright, Marcus. I want you inside of me." Quickly wrapping himself with you still hanging on him, he lines his cock up with your dripping entrance, carefully pushing into you. Moans rip through your apartment as he takes it slow, easing you onto his size. "I'm gonna start moving, alright baby?" You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding, "Okay. I'm ready."

Easing himself out of you so it's only the tip of his cock left inside, he pushes in slightly harder than before, still adjusting to you, "Ugh....your so tight baby...so tight for Daddy...so wet..." His lips entertain the delicate skin of your neck,your moans and whimpers echoing in his ears, flipping a switch that send his hips into a faster pace. The skin about his cock passes over your clit with every thrust, taking you higher and higher. Your eyes meet as he moves his head back, your lips grazing as you pant against each other. Marcus leans into you depper than before, his mouth meeting yours just in time to swallow the yelp that soars from you. His tongue dancing on your lips, begging for entrance. Parting them slightly, he groans at the feel of you. His kisses travel to your jaw before his lips guide his breath against your ear, "Good girl. Moan for me, baby. Your sound make me want to fuck you until you can only think of me...what I do to you...how much I stretch you..." His husky voice rattles you to the core, clenching tight around his cock. "I'm gonna...please let me come, sir." Marcus pulls back again to look into your eyes, "Come for me, baby. Come for Daddy. You're such a good girl for me." Your climax slams into you at his words just as he chases his release.

Rolling onto his back, he pulls you to his chest, "That...that was...I haven't done that in forever. Was it okay?" You turn your head up to look at him, "Okay? Marcus that was the best sex I've ever had! You really know how to treat a woman." You both chuckle, "Thank you, honey. That means a lot. But..um...what you said earlier about me to Miracle Guy..."

"Y-yes?"

"Is it true?"

"Marcus, I wouldn't lie about that. You're really fucking sexy."

"Honey you're too-"

*buzzzzz*

*buzzzzz*

*buzzzzz*

Marcus' phone begins to ring. Reaching over carefully as not to disturb your comfortable position, he answers it. Still trying to catch his breath, "Hello?"

"Hey pal, it's Miracle Guy. Make sure you turn off your talk to text next time you and hot stuff get together"

Taglist: @no-droids @autumnleaves1991-blog @absurdthirst @velvetmel0n @wyn-n-tonic @leaderoftheheroics @finerthisboutique

[nhlandotherimagines]

Family isn’t Always Blood-Part 2

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Summary: Kinsey and Elias’ relationship gets put to the test. Will Elias’ family accept Kinsey? Guess you’ll have to read and find out :)

Author’s Notes: Part 2 let’s go!!!

Word Count: approx. 5.1 k

Warnings: all the same as part 1, also this part likely won’t make much sense unless you read the first part, there is also a a gender reveal in this part so if you really don’t want to read it for that reason I understand and I will add that I do know they are problematic however it was just part of the plot and I felt the need to write it

———

“Can we get an apartment together?”

My question catches Elias by surprise. “Are you seriously suggesting we move in together right now?” He asks laughing in disbelief, but his face softens.

“Well I mean yeah! But, mine is definitely too small, and yours is a bachelor pad. We are probably going to want something a bit bigger.” An unsure smile spreads slowly across my face, as I watch Elias attempting to wrap his head around what I’m saying.

“My apartment would be fine for us, but if you’d rather something different we can look into it.” He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, and I can tell he’s even more confused about my sudden desire to live with him.

“I mean it’s great and I wouldn’t mind living there with you, but we will need more room for the baby don’t you think?” 

Elias slowly pulls away from me, staring down at me, his mouth slightly agape. My eyes begin to water and the smile returns to my face. “Y-you wait? You’re really?” Elias is a sputtering mess, trying to wrap his head around what I’m saying, trying to keep his own emotions in check as he likely waits for me to break down.

I nod, tears falling down my face now. “I’m pregnant Elias.”

“Oh. Okay um, wow.” He pauses, eyes falling briefly to my stomach, but they quickly snap up to meet mine again. “How do you feel about that?”

I grab his wrists that are gently resting on my hips, and guide them to sit gently on my stomach. I then reach up and hold his face in my hands and take a deep breath. “I’m terrified. I don’t know how to be a mom, but I guess no one really does know how until they are one. All I know is this baby, it’s-“ I let out a small chuckling trying to hold in the sob trying to escape my throat. “This baby is ours Elias. We made them, and I wouldn’t want to learn how to be a parent with anyone else.”

I can feel Elias’ hands trembling against my stomach, his touch is feather light as if he’s scared to hurt me. I wait patiently for him to respond, but suddenly he just falls down to his knees and rests his forehead against my stomach. He’s muttering to himself in Swedish, and I’m unable to make out any of it. “Elias?”

As he lifts his head to look up at me, his eyes are bloodshot and tears are streaming down his face. If it weren’t for the show stopping smile on his face, I would think he was upset. “We are having a baby!” He chokes out, tears still steadily flowing across his now reddened cheeks. He places a soft kiss on my stomach, and in that moment I know that everything will be okay. I can do this. We can do this. Together. Our little family.

———

“How are you feeling?” My obstetrician, Dr. McLean, asks as she enters the room.

“Nervous.” Elias answers, his leg continuing to bounce like it has been since he sat down.

“I’m pretty sure that question was meant for me Pettersson.” I giggle, placing my hand on his knee. “I’m feeling better than him apparently.” I joke as I turn back towards Dr. McLean.

She laughs along with me, before explaining how the ultrasound will work. 

Elias watches closely as the doctor puts the gel on my stomach. As she presses the wand to my stomach Elias’ eyes snap to the monitor. As curious as I am, I can’t take my eyes off of my boyfriend. He looks like a child on Christmas morning, not knowing yet what the gifts will be, but excited nonetheless. His baby blues swirl with emotion, and his blonde hair falls perfectly over his forehead. 

“There they are! That’s your baby!” Dr. McLean announces, and my eyes quickly find the screen. I follow the doctors finger as she points out the different body parts, a whole new wave of emotions washing over me. Excitement courses through me, and when my eyes find Elias again, he’s staring down at me, tears falling silently down his face. 

Dr. McLean excuses herself to print off the sonogram photos we asked for, but I can’t focus on her. All I can focus on is the beautiful man in front of me. The man I love. The father of my child. 

“You’re incredible.” He breathes out, running the back of his hand across his face to get her the tears that had fallen. “That’s our baby.”

It’s my turn to cry now as Elias places a soft kiss to my forehead. “It really is. Thank you Elias for giving me a family.” 

“No, thank you.” He smiles brushing away my tears. 

——-

“Do not even think about lifting that box!” I groan rolling my eyes. 

“Pettersson! This box weighs 15 pounds at most and I’m hardly even pregnant!” I yell back, not even really sure how he could see me anyway as he just steps through the apartment door. There is a long pause followed by a muttered profanity.

“Pregnant? You’re pregnant!?” Brock. Fuck, this is not how we intended on telling anyone. Of course I forgot Brock was coming over. When I turn around, Brock’s chin is on the floor and Elias’ hands cover his face as he grumbles inaudibly to himself.

“No?” The uncertainty in my voice a dead give away he didn’t need. Brock’s smile grows and he’s clapping Elias’ shoulder. “Brock we just found out, you can’t say anything!”

“My lips are sealed. On one condition!” The smirk on his face causes Elias and I both to roll our eyes. “I get to be Uncle Brock!”

I can’t help the laughing tumbling past my lips, or the soaring feeling in my heart. I’ve always loved having Brock around, and the thought of having another great man around for this baby to look up to makes me so happy. “I wouldn’t have it any other way Uncle Brock.” I add a little wink at the nickname as he gathers me into a hug. He whispers congratulations into my ear, and places a kiss to the top of my head.

When he pulls away, Elias is smiling at us, a look of happiness similar to the one I’m wearing, on his face. I walk over to him and pull him in for a quick kiss. His hands instinctively find my stomach, like they have many times since last week at the hospital. Sure I was only 2 months pregnant, and not even showing, but Elias doesn’t care.

“Is that why this move is happening so quickly?” Brock asks, and my smile falters a bit. It certainly would seem that way to most, and I guess it kind of is that way. I feel a little guilty about it, like I’m using the baby to tie Elias down, but that had never been my intention.

Elias must sense my mood shifting, because he speaks up. “It certainly helped it along, but Kinsey’s lease was almost up and I wanted her to move in before we found out anyway.”

Reaching up, I place a small kiss on his cheek. The questions that will come along with this pregnancy are inevitable, and they scare me, but somehow Elias makes everything seem easier. With him I feel like I can do anything.

“Have you told anyone else?” I shake my head, cheeks tinting a light shade of pink. We were planning on waiting another couple weeks to tell anyone, but now Brock was the first to know. “I’m honoured!” He chuckles, smiling at us as Elias throws one arm over my shoulder. “I’m so happy for you both.”

So am I Brock. So am I.

———

Today was the day we are telling Elias’ family about the baby, and to put it nicely, I’m shitting bricks. 

“Just breathe.” I shoot Elias a glare that is mostly uncalled for, but my anxiety is through the roof right now. This could change everything. Sure, Irene liked me before, and wants grandbabies, but like this? “Kins. You’re going to stress out the baby. I promise you it’s going to be okay.”

I send him a forced smile, and nod pressing a kiss to his cheek. Elias opens his laptop and places it gently on the coffee table in front of us. I had wanted to make the surprise memorable for the Pettersson family, and knowing they couldn’t be in Vancouver when we were going to tell them, made it slightly more difficult. I spent weeks planning the surprise before we shipped the box to the family home in Sweden.

In the box was an individual package for each family member who would be present during the FaceTime call. In Elias’ father Törbjörn’s package was the tiniest pair of skates we could purchase. Elias’ older brother Emil’s package held a Vancouver Canucks jersey. The number 1 on the back, and a name plate above it that reads ‘Uncle’. Irene’s package, by far my favourite one, is a gold necklace with a small locket. Inside the locket is a tiny sonogram of the baby. 

“Can we open it now?” Irene asks excitedly, foregoing a regular greeting. I giggle, and Elias smiles brightly beside me.

“There is an individual package for each of you. Make sure you open them at the same time!” Irene’s eyes light up in excitement as she hands Emil and Törbjörn their packages.

“Go ahead.” Elias instructs, and my heart beat picks up slightly. The nerves coursing through me, causing my hands to shake and knee to bounce. Elias’ hand comes to rest gently on my knee, and he rubs his thumb in soothing circles across my bare knee.

I watch closely as Elias’ family open their gifts. Emil is the first to open his eyes widening as he reads the nameplate on his jersey. His smile grows as he stares through the screen in disbelief. Elias squeezes my knee in response, and I look over at him briefly, his eyes watering as he watches his family.

Törbjörn inspects the tiny skates, seemingly oblivious to the significance of their size. I giggle as he thanks us both, and comments on how cute they are. 

My gaze settles on Irene as she pulls the locket from its box. Her smile grows as she looks at the small gold heart shaped locket. “It’s beautiful!” She gushes, and I can’t help the tears forming in my eyes. 

“Open it up Mom!” Elias practically yells at her, his patience growing thin. 

Irene slowly opens the locket taking in the small photo inside. I watch her closely, waiting for any indication that she has caught on. After a few moments the smile on her face falls, and so does my heart. I knew this was going to be too soon for her. Elias and I are still so young, and we haven’t even been together that long. Hell, I’ve only met the woman once in person.

“Mom?” Elias’ voice cracks, and I can now see the nerves he’s been hiding, as the tears in his eyes threaten to spill down his cheeks.

“Is-is this a baby?” She asks pointing to the locket. Elias and I both nod in response. “Your baby?” Her voice shakes, as she asks the question. Her face is devoid of any emotion. No sadness, happiness, confusion or anger, and I honestly would prefer her screaming at me than this awkward back and forth.

“Yes. We are having a baby.” A single year falls down Elias’ cheek as he forces a brave smile. I hate seeing him like this. I know he’s excited about this baby, but if his family isn’t he will be crushed.

When I finally peel my eyes away from Elias and back to the laptop screen, Irene is crying. Not just a few tears, this woman is in full on hysterics.Törbjörn holds her to his chest, and Emil rubs her back gently. I feel sick. Scratch that, I’m going to be sick. 

Immediately springing to my feet, I run as fast as I can to the bathroom. Elias calls after me, but I can’t stop. I quickly part ways with the nice breakfast Elias made me this morning, as I sit on the bathroom floor. “I’m sorry.” I cry, rubbing small circles over my stomach. “I’m so sorry.”

———

After probably 20 minutes of sitting on the bathroom floor, I pull myself up. I brush my teeth and fix my hair in the mirror. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I make my way back toward the living room. I stop at the end of the hall, watching Elias speak with his family. The conversation is now completely in Swedish, and they’re speaking so fast there is no way I can keep up. 

Elias’ eyes meet mine across the room, and he smiles brightly. “There she is!” He muses in a much more cheerful tone than that I’d left him with. “Feeling alright beautiful?”

All I can do is nod in response, and walk towards him. Instead of taking my seat next to him, I position myself behind the couch running my hands over his shoulders and down his chest lightly. I press a kiss to his lips when he turns to smile up at me. 

“Kinsey?” Irene’s voice sounds a little hesitant when she speaks, but when I turn my attention back to the screen she’s smiling. “Thank you.”

My brows furrow slightly, and I’m about to tell her she has no reason to thank me, but she speaks first. “Thank you for giving me a grand baby. We are all so excited and so happy for you! But mostly, thank you for loving my Elias. Welcome to the family dear.” 

She is smiling brightly back at me, her necklace now displayed proudly on her chest. Emil is now sporting his jersey, and I’m almost positive Törbjörn placed the tiny skates above the fireplace in the background. Tears are flowing down my face now, and Irene’s face fills with worry. “Oh dear! I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

A watery laugh escapes my throat, and I shake my head as I swipe at the tears on my face. “Just hormones. Thank you Mrs. Pettersson, that means a lot to me.”

“You can call me Mom dear, if you want that is. Irene or Grammy works now too.” A few tears slip down her face as well, but the smile she is sporting lets me know she is happy.

“Thank you,” I pause briefly, taking a deep breath. This is the moment I always dreamed of, having that mother daughter moment, and revealing I was going to be a mom too. The issue was I’ve never had a Mother I felt close to like that. My mother doesn’t care about me, or my baby, unless there is something in it for her. Watching how wonderful Elias’ family is, and how welcoming his Mom has been to me and now this baby has me crying even harder. “Mom.”

My voice is weak when I choke out the last part, and immediately Elias is on his feet gathering me in his arms. “It’s okay Kins, it’s okay sweetie.” He rubs my back, and I cry into his chest. I hear him speaking softly to his mother before he ends the call. “Kinsey? Talk to me.”

“Y-your mom. She’s so wonderful, I love your family Elias.” I manage to get the words out without lifting my face from where it’s pressed against his chest. 

“And they love you, so why are you upset?” He chuckles a little bit, and a small smile cracks on my face momentarily at the sound.

“I’ve never had a Mom Elias.” I breathe out, and Elias places a hand under my chin tilting it up so I’m looking at him. His brows knit together in confusion. “Well I do I guess. I have a woman who gave birth to me and kind of looked after me while I was growing up, but she has never been a mother. I’ve always craved that mother daughter relationship. I used to dream about telling my Mom I was having a baby, until I realized we didn’t have that kind of relationship. It made me think I could never do this, that I’d never be a Mom. So having your mom be so happy to have me be the mother of her grandchild, to call me family, and ask me to call her mom. It’s just so much, and I don’t know that I really deserve it, but it feels so nice! I’m just- I’m so happy right now.”

With that Elias kissed me. It was a rushed kiss, fast and passionate, but not heated, nor was it intended to go farther. The kiss was more like his attempt to communicate how loved I was, and how happy he was too. I smile against his lips, our teeth clashing a few times, but I don’t care. My hands thread through his beautiful hair and tug gently as his cold hands sneak up under my shirt to rest on my stomach.

“You are family y’know?” Elias speaks as he pulls back so we can both catch our breath. My hands scratch lightly through his hair as I smile at him. “You’re my family now. Me, you, and our beautiful baby.”

“I hope they have your hair, and your eyes.” I giggle. I’ve never known happiness like this. This is my family.

———

“Shit!” I groan flopping back on the bed in defeat. I’ve always been a girl who loves skinny jeans, and now here I am unable to fit in almost every pair of pants I own. Minus my sweats and a singular pair of yoga pants that have holes in them.

“Everything okay out there?” Elias asks poking his head out of the ensuite bathroom. He’s seriously been the best, but his constant worrying tends to be a bit suffocating at times. It is very sweet though, seeing him care so much for me, and this baby.

“I have nothing to wear! None of my pants fit!” I whine out, sounding like a child myself. This wasn’t the time though. Today is the day we tell all of our friends, and I have nothing nice to wear. 

“Baby blue sundress in the back of the closet, wear that.” Elias’ head pops back in the bathroom to finish getting ready, and I lay on my back in complete bewilderment. How does he even remember that dress, let alone where I keep it? He’s right though, it is the perfect outfit.

Slipping it over my head is easy, and it flows around my body perfectly. The bump is completely undetectable, and I’m comfortable. It’s perfect.

“You look beautiful.” Elias smiles, placing a gentle kiss to my cheek.

“You don’t look too bad yourself Pettersson.” I smirk, my hands finding the back of his neck as his find my waist. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans, a pale blue shirt, and a black ball cap sits backwards on his head. 

“Ready for this momma?” He asks with a smirk. The nickname isn’t one he’s used before, and the effect it has on me is embarrassing. My face heats up, heart rate increases, and my smile grows.

“Momma huh?” I giggle, and Elias’ hands once again find my stomach.

“It suits you.” He winks, and kisses my forehead. His hands drop from my stomach as he steps away grabbing his wallet and keys from the top of the dresser. His hand finds mine as he leads me out of the apartment and to the car. Today should be interesting.

——-

Nerves course through me the entire drive. Elias’ right hand never leaves me, as it moves from my hand to my thigh and then finally settles on my stomach. A smile settles on his face when it does, and I find myself fighting back tears.

“Your stomach is growing a lot!” He gushes, and I can’t stop the laugh that tumbles past my lips. The nerves forgotten momentarily.

“Jeez thanks babe!” I joke back, placing a hand over the one he has on my stomach. The way his arm is stretched out across the center console can’t be comfortable, but Elias seems completely content.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He chuckles, as he pulls into the Horvat’s driveway. “Ready for this?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. 

Before I know it, Elias is guiding me into the Horvat’s living room, his hand low on my back. Bo and Holly are quick to greet us, Bo pulling Elias off to talk hockey, and Holly drags me to the kitchen. “Red or white?” She asks, holding two bottles of wine in front of me. Shit.

“Oh no thanks, I’m good. I told Elias I’d drive.” I stutter out. The heat rising in my cheeks sure to give away that I’m lying, as Holly cocks her brow at me.

“One glass won’t hurt right? You’re staying awhile aren’t you?” She’s watching me closely as I try and find Elias in the crowd. My hands shake lightly, and I absentmindedly press them on my stomach to settle them. “Oh. My. God.” Holly’s hand immediately wraps around one of my wrists as she pulls me down the hall and into Ava’s bedroom. “Spill!” Her demanding tone cracking slightly as a smile forms on her face.

“Damn, okay we were going to make an announcement later, so you’re going to have to act surprised.” I pause, and she quickly nods, her smile growing. “I’m pregnant.” 

The words leave my mouth barely above a whisper and are quickly cut off by the squeal that leaves Holly. “I knew it!” She bounces on the balls of her feet excitedly like a child. “How far along are you?” 

“13 weeks.” The smile on Holly’s face, mirrors the one on my own. She pulls me into a hug whispering more congratulations in my ear, before pulling me back out to the party.

———

The party goes on without incident, not that I would ever expect any less from the Horvat’s. The food is wonderful, and of course the people surrounding me makes the night that much better. The house around me is littered with hockey players and their families, children all huddled into the backyard climbing on the playground, as the adults laugh amongst each other about everything and nothing. 

“What’s wrong babe?” Elias asks as he snakes an arm around my waist.

“Wha- nothing! Why?” I ask, looking up at him as he smiles softly down at me. His blonde head towering over me.

“You’re crying.” He chuckles, sweeping the pad of his thumb across my cheek bone. “Again.”

“Stupid horomones.” I grumble wiping at my face aggressively. Crying has become a frequent occurrence in the first trimester of this pregnancy, and Elias seems to find it quite entertaining most of the time. As long as I’m not actually sad of course.

“Can we tell them now?” I can practically feel the impatience radiating from him, as his eyes search mine for any hesitation.

“Of course we can babe! Honestly I’m surprised you and Brock have managed to keep it to yourselves this long.” The groan that leaves my boyfriend has me laughing as he rolls his eyes. Despite the attitude, a smile grows on his face as his hand finds mine before he drags me into the backyard where everyone has congregated around the small fire pit.

“Nice of the lovebirds to join us finally.” Bo chirps as we take two free seats just next to him.

“Be nice Bo, or we won’t tell you.” Elias shrugs nonchalantly.

“Tell me what?” He asks, looking between the two of us. I glance at Elias and giggle, causing Bo’s eyes to grow wider. “Tell me what!?” His voice slightly louder and more frantic as he repeats the question.

Elias’ eyes find mine silently asking me if he should. “Go ahead.” I smile at him, and he squeezes my hand lightly.

“Yeah Petey! Go ahead!” Bo, leans forward in his chair excitedly.

“Okay! Okay!” He chuckles, shaking his head at his teammates. The crowd that has gathered around also listening intently, all eyes on Elias. “Wow. This is awkward isn’t it? Well I guess it’s about time we told you all that Kinsey and I are having a baby.”

His hand tightens even more around mine as the words leave his lips. He’s nervous, I can tell. The moment of silence that follows seems to last forever, even though I’m sure in reality it’s only seconds before someone reacts.

“You’re pregnant!?” I’m not sure who breaks the silence, but I’m immediately bombarded by congratulations, cheers and hugs. All of the WAGs gather around me and I giddily share all of the information they’re dying to know, as Elias gets pulled aside by his teammates.

It’s in this moment that I realize this is family. Listening to, supporting, and just genuinely being excited for the people you care about. Maybe the people who raised me couldn’t wrap their heads around what family is meant to be, but I can. It’s this, it’s a feeling of belonging that I will try my hardest to ensure this baby feels every day of their life.

———

“Kins, sit down. Everything is perfect, and has been since 5 am. Can we just relax for a while before people get here?” Elias whines, as he flops onto the couch. 

“Fine!” I huff, adjusting the two stacks of napkins sitting on the table for what must be the twelfth time this morning. Elias is right, I’ve been wide awake since 3:30 and have been obsessively setting up for the gender reveal party ever since.

“You have to stop stressing babe. It's not good for you or the baby.” Elias lightly scolds me, as he shuffles over to give me room to lay down with him. As I settle in next to him, his hand finds my stomach and he rubs it lightly.

“I can’t help it! I’m nervous, I just want everything to be perfect.” I roll onto my side as best as I can to face him, my hand running through his hair.

“It already is babe. We are having a baby remember?” The goofy smile on his face, has me relaxing into him. My eyes flutter shut as he places a light kiss to my forehead, and I can feel my exhaustion slowly creeping up on me. “Have a nap babe I’ll wake you up in a little while.” The words are hardly out of his mouth before I’m drifting off to sleep.

———

“Look at you two!” Holly gushes, pulling me into a hug, continuing to mutter about our outfits. Elias and I decided to wear Canucks jerseys. His, a regular Canucks jersey with the number 1 and ‘Daddy’ printed across the back, and mine, a pink Canucks jersey with the number 1 and ‘Mommy’ printed across the back. I’m quite proud of them if I’m honest.

As the rest of the guests arrive, I greet them and make sure they all sign the guest book. Elias has set up shop in the kitchen offering everyone a drink, and pointing them towards the large array of snacks. I certainly never thought I’d end up here. Surrounded by so many amazing people, who all showed up to celebrate a baby. My baby. It’s surreal.

Once everyone has arrived, I take a moment to admire the space around me. Blue and pink streamers hang from the ceiling thanks to Elias, who refused to let me climb the ladder. Balloons litter the apartment, many of them now being thrown around by Elias and his friends. The laughter and chaos bring a smile to my face as my gaze settles on my favourite decoration of all.

In the far corner of the room was a tiny replica of a players stall, very similar to that in which you’d find in the Canucks locker room. Hanging in the stall is a small jersey inside of the tiniest little black garment bag you’ve ever seen, and the nameplate at the top of the stall reads ‘Welcome to the Team! Who Could You Be?’. I was quite proud of the idea really, and Elias was quick to volunteer to make my vision a reality. 

“This may just be the cutest gender reveal party I’ve ever been to!” Holly gushes as she gently bumps my hip. The smile on her face screams excitement, and it makes me feel warm inside. “So what’s the deal with that?” I giggle when she gestures towards the stall across the room.

“Well,” I take a breath, placing a hand on my stomach. “Inside that little bag is a tiny Pettersson jersey. Could be pink like mine, or blue like Petey’s. We are going to open it together.”

“So do you already know what it is?” She asks, eyes never leaving the stall as she examines it a little more closely.

“No idea. We had it sent to us just like that.” The fact I’m minutes away from knowing even the smallest, and probably most insignificant about this baby, is making me nervous. Sure, its just the sex of the baby, it means very little about who they will be in the future, and it won’t affect how I care for them. However, it is making it feel that much more real, as the insecurities i’ve managed to keep at bay seem to resurface all at once. This is terrifying.

------

“Alright and action!” Brock yells from behind the camera, and everyone erupts into laughter. The smile on my face hopefully hiding the fear in my heart.

“Ready Momma?” Elias asks, kissing my cheek. All I can do is nod, and the countdown starts. The energy in the room is so intense, but in the best way possible, as our friends yell loud enough to warrant a noise complaint.

3…

2…

1!

Elias’ fingers find the zipper on the garment bag, and I place mine gently over his. His hand shakes under mine, and although I know it’s mostly excitement, I can tell he's nervous as we slowly pull down the zipper together.

As the garment bag falls away, my heart stops. There is no way this is happening, not right now! Elias’ hand drops from mine as he steps back slightly, as the people around me seem to let out a collective gasp. Tears burn my eyes, and before I can stop them, they’re falling down my face. This is NOT what I expected.

Tagging: @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @heatherawoowoo

I hope y’all liked it! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the next parts!

[9layerdevilfoodcake]

HelloGoodbye/Part 1:It’s The End Of The World As We Know It

Summary: it’s the last day of life as you know it at Camp Redwood when the apocalypse comes calling, but what does that mean for the souls shackled to this particular hellmouth?

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: mentions of death, implied-ish smut, the end of the world?

//

The day the world ended started out the same as any other.

You woke up to the sunrise, wrapped in a jumble of blankets, limbs and bleached hair.

Sleep wasn’t really necessary for the undead, but it just came naturally, like muscle memory. Plus it was a nice way to pass the time.

But it was what came after a good night’s sleep that was your favorite part of the day, more specifically it was waking up next to him.

There are few things better in life (past or present) than waking up in his arms.

Your lover? Boyfriend? Mutual sufferer in eternal purgatory?

You’re not really sure what you would call him. You and Xavier both agreed the afterlife was no place for labels.

But if you asked any of the other souls shackled to this hellmouth with you, they would all call you two the same thing; inseparable.

It had been that way for decades, you spent almost every reawoken moment together. He was the one thing that made your afterlife feel as though it’s axis tipped more towards heaven than hell.

He was the light at the end of the tunnel. And looking at him now, eyes closed, lips parted, and sleeping soundly without a care in the world. You might go as far as to say you are thankful you didn’t listen to your gut, and made the (what at the time you thought regrettable) decision to take your friend's extra ticket and step foot on the haunted site for a music festival, one that never even happened mind you.

You got stabbed in the face and she didn’t get to blow Billy Idol, you guess you would call the weekend a bust for the both of you.

You’re comfortably laying back and reminiscing, when you feel Xavier stir.

The long hum that leaves his lips, followed by their soft touch on your shoulder lets you know he’s awake and it’s followed by a mumbled “Good morning”.

“Good morning” you answer back. Leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. A little too chaste for his liking, so before you can pull away he grabs hold of the back of your neck and pulls you back down for more.

One perk of being dead, no morning breath. There’s no need to break the mood with a trip to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Not that that would stop him anyways, through your time with Xavier you have come to realize that there are very few things he won’t try, and even less he would determine “too gross” to kill his mood.

So much like countless mornings before this, it’s a good couple of hours before you two make it out of bed and decide to properly “get up”.

“What should we do today?” He asks as he’s rummaging through the luggage some ghost adventurer left behind in their haste to “get the fuck out of this place”. It had been years since anyone around here had partaken in any blood sport. But that didn’t mean there was still no fun in scaring the tourists. (And maybe occasional bets were taken to see who could get a camper to wet themselves first).

He pauses and holds up a pair of dark blue wranglers, waiting for your opinion.

You just shake your head in dismissal.

“We haven’t been in the lake in a while. We could take a dip...then maybe you could take a dip…” you say wiggling your eyebrows to insinuate your innuendo, while you make your way over to the stash, taking over the search for yourself.

“No”

“Why not?” You know the reason for his rejection, but can’t help giving him a little pout anyways.

“After what happened last time? Not happening.” His voice is stern but with the underlying playfulness that’s always present between the two of you.

“Oh come on...I won’t let that happen again.”

“Believe it or not, drowning is not fun, dead or alive. And you know what’s worse than drowning once? Coming back to and drowning again because the person with their legs wrapped around your head hasn’t even noticed!” He emphasizes his “anger” by snatching the green umbro shorts you’d found from your hands and proceeding to dramatically stomp his legs through the holes before pulling them up around his hips.

“You only have yourself to blame for that, if you weren’t always such a tease I would have known something was wrong. I just thought you were trying to work me up and build my anticipation, not give me some signal your foot was stuck in the mud” You argue back tossing him a cut off Duran Duran t-shirt, that despite its tag saying 2018 has been given holes and bleached to give it a “vintage” look. The irony of donning such items always makes you laugh.

As he finishes getting dressed you simply look at him with that same pout back on your face, although it slowly morphs into a smile as you see his resolve slipping away.

Who is he kidding, he could never say no to you. He would do anything you ever asked. He would drown every hour, on the hour, if it kept you looking at him the way you are now.

“Fine, but if I start slapping your thighs it is not to keep you in line, it’s me begging for oxygen.”

“Ok” you agree with a chuckle as you grab his hand and head to the door, but he holds his place, making you turn and raise a brow at him.

“And the next time those birdwatchers are in camp, you have to blow me in front of that Condor’s nest they all jizz their jeans for.”

“Sure” you answer, shrugging your shoulders, not a bad trade...

“While they’re taking pictures of it.”

You pause for barely a moment to think that over, who were you kidding, you’re just as whipped as he is.

“Deal���

You weren’t in the water very long before you heard it, a siren sounding in the distance.

Xavier had only just removed your bottoms before you were pulling him up by his hair.

“What?” He asks, as he emerges, shaking droplets out his face with a look of confusion mixed with some underlying self doubt. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you hear that?”

As you both listen the sirens start to get louder and new ones join in the cacophony of sounding alarms.

“Yea, they’re probably just testing the storm sirens?”

“All of them?”

Before Xavier can talk you out of worrying and let him “get back to work” you’re interrupted by Chet yelling at you from the dock.

“Hey! You guys should see this”

Once you both redress you make your way to the cabin which once upon a time was assigned to the male counselors, but now it serves as more of a clubhouse for the lingering spirits. Upon entry you see almost every soul in the camp crowded around the TV.

There have only been two occasions when you have all collectively been in the same place at the same time; when you got revenge on Margaret, and when you made plans for what to do about the “Ramirez problem”.

Something big must be happening.

“What’s going on?” Xavier inquires as you join the group.

“The end of the world” Answers Montana, in a voice so calm she almost sounds bored, it’s like that happens every week.

“Oh no did Belinda Carlyle die?!”

“No...not yet anyway”

Your attention is brought back to the flat screen television Jingle’s son Bobby had gifted you. After his visit, he had been kind enough to set up wifi around the camp, as well as pay for a cable package, with the help of Brooke and Rita (or whatever her real name was). After hours of trying to explain how a touch screen works, as well as the grappling concept of Bluetooth; he deemed the pursuit pretty much a wash. But you did all know how to work a television, so most days were spent watching reruns of Knight Rider or Press Your Luck, and checking in with the nightly news.

So now you found yourself surrounded by your fellow ghosts, watching the man on the tv announce the incoming missiles and saying a teary goodbye to his family.

“What does this mean? I mean for us?” The question came from one of the victims of the first massacre in the 70s, whose name you were now feeling a little guilty for never bothering to learn.

It was a good question nonetheless, your souls kept coming back after just about any obstacle thrown at you, staying attached to the camp, but would they stay attached to a camp that wasn’t even there?

Unfortunately this was also a question nobody knew the answer to.

“Should we go to a basement or something?” Chet chimed in

“I doubt a basement will win the fight against a nuclear bomb, at least this close to the blast radius.” Trevor now spoke up, making his way over to the television to check another news channel, before addressing the group. “Besides does that even matter for us?”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough”

As everyone is switching back and forth between intently checking the news and murmuring confusion between each other, you pull Xavier aside.

“Xavier, just in case we don’t make it. I just want you to know” you start, averting your gaze as you feel the tears begin to pool in your eyes. “...I just...I’m really...you’ve been…” you’re trying to find a way to tell him how much he’s meant to you, and the amount of gratitude you have for his patience and understanding, how he’s made every day a memorable one for you, how he’s the best person you’ve ever known, dead or alive. How you don’t believe you’ve actually been stuck wandering the earth together all these years, because when you’re with him you think you must have done something right in your life, because there is no doubt in your mind this is what heaven feels like. But you can’t, you can’t get a single word out if you want to keep any semblance of calm and keep the flood gates from opening.

Thankfully Xavier stops you before your nonsensical blubbering can go any further.

“I know, you have too.” He says this as he clasps your hands in his, before moving one hand up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek and bringing your attention back to him. As you look at him you see glassy blue orbs filled with tears that match your own, holding behind them eons of love and unsaid devotion. But he is much better at holding himself together so he marches on.

“If something happens and we don’t make it through this. Or we end up in some new shittier purgatory, I promise you I’ll come find you there! There is nothing in this life or any other that can keep me from you, okay? We’re gonna be alright though, I promise”

All you can do is nod your head, and muster up enough strength to get out a quiet “I love you”

“I love you too”

You and Xavier sit on the bunk that was once designated as his, all those years ago when he came here with the hope of a fun summer away from his troubles. Back then he was always running; running to something, running from something. There was never any certainty in his life, not even in his after life, not until you.

Now he’s starting to feel like that scared boy he once was. The one once found on the edge of death in MacArthur Park, trying so desperately to feel anything, and trying even more in vain to make that feeling last. He had nothing to loose back then in his desperate pursuit for euphoria. But he learned real fast that when things sounded too good to be true they most certainly were.

And that’s why he holds you closer now. Because you were the greatest good he has ever known, and there is certainly no way someone as wretched and cursed as him could ever keep someone as exceptional and pure as you.

He’d tasted bliss for too long now, and it must be time for the collector to come calling. But that didn’t mean he would let you go without a fight, because here in your arms is the only place that has ever felt like home, and he would protect his fortress come hell or high water (or the literal end of the world).

But that fight may or may not come and right now was about settling your nerves and keeping you calm. So he puts his resolve on the back burner and moves to pull you into his lap to whisper words of love and encouragement while you wait for the missiles to strike.

You feel them before you hear them, the impact on the earth, who knows how many miles away, before it broke the sound barrier. You didn’t even have enough time to process the incoming force before you were knocked out and everything and everyone you had known for decades was wiped away.

/

There is no way to tell how much time has passed when you wake in a pile of rubble and ash, with no discernable clue as to where you were in relation to the miles of identical rubble and ash that surrounded you. You weren’t sure where in the camp you were. The only thing keeping you believing this was even still Redwood were the semblance of remaining trees around you. Other than that there was nothing else insight but dirt and debri, and no sign of any other soul.

After you got your bearings you go in search of Xavier, or anyone else for that matter.

After a few minutes you come across a spot of land that seems vaguely familiar. Although there are no more cabins and no more dock, you’re pretty sure the crater that sits before you used to be the lake.

The lake where you died.

The lake you had no escape from for the past 30 years.

The lake you were swimming in only a few minutes ago.

The lake where you and Xavier spoke your first words to each other.

The lake where you sat on the dock dipping your toes in the water as you told one another that you loved each other for the first time.

The lake that you used to think if you never saw again, would be too soon.

The lake that you would now give anything to see full again.

After a couple minutes lost in your reverie, you hear a voice in the distance. One you’d recognize anywhere.

Without a moments hesitation you take off towards its source.

After tripping over countless branches and what you can only assume used to be one of the cabins you make it to a clearing and see Xavier bounding your way with Chet in tow.

“Oh my god! Thank god you're okay!” He breathes out as he pulls you into his embrace. You feel him exhale in relief as he holds you, before he lets you go in order to inspect you, searching for any signs of distress.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No I’m fine, are you ok?”

After looking him over in return to make sure everything’s alright and he gives you a nod, you look over to Chet, who you had quite honestly forgotten was there.

“You too?”

“Yea we’re fine, it’ll take more than one measly nuclear bomb to take down all this” he accentuates by raising his shirt and slapping his abs.

“I’m glad to see your modesty survived the blast as well” you answer giving him a wink and a nudge before you continue.

“we should find the others.”

/

It took a couple hours to track down the rest of your group. At least what felt like it, with the clocks gone there was no telling what time it was.

And the haze the bombs left kept it constantly looking like dusk.

After regrouping you all agreed you should look for any pieces of camp left behind, any signs of life, or just any signs of anything at all.

/

And that’s how it went for the next couple of days. You would walk around looking for signs of life, and finding very few momentos left behind by the camp. Then every once in a while you would all regroup in the middle of the crater that was once the lake, and switch between theories of what was happening out in the rest of the world and reminiscing about times when this place was still standing.

/

Almost everyone in your group of confidants, aside from Ray, was sitting at your usual meeting spot when he came barreling towards you all.

“You guys come here I have to show you something.” His voice was full of excitement.

“What?” Montana asked back, thoroughly unimpressed with his optimism. You had never met two people more different. To Montana, Ray was like a pesky mosquito, who she would often shoo away, that is when she wasn’t bossing him around and telling him to “make himself useful”.

“Just trust me it’s important.”

After a few minutes of grumbling and feet dragging. You and Xavier, Montana, Trevor, and Chet made your way to the empty piece of land Ray was pointing at. Picking up Bertie and the real nurse Rita along the way.

“What? What are we supposed to be looking at?” Bertie questioned, taking it upon herself to ask what you were all wondering.

“Right here.” He points to a spot on the ground, that aside from the line he had made with his shoe, looked the exact same as the rest of your surroundings.

“This is the entrance to Camp Redwood.”

“How do you know? There’s nothing here.” Xavier pointed out motioning around to the surrounding emptiness.

“I have measured the number of steps to the entrance, from just about every place in this camp.”

“God somebody needs to get laid. You have way too much time on your hands.” Xavier regards. And you can’t help but let a laugh slip out.

Narrowing his eyes at that comment, Ray attempts to defend himself. “We’ve been here for decades. Chet wouldn’t even talk to me for years, and before you met y/n, you and Montana only acknowledged me when I was cleaning up your messes, and I….you know what I don’t have to explain myself. What I’m about to show you will have you praising me for the way I chose to pass the time. You should all be kissing my loafers for this.”

Ray was really getting sick of still being the butt of the other counselors jokes and jabs. Even now at the end of the world, when he has made such a monumental discovery.

Deciding not to waste more time getting upset he proceeds.

“So as you know most of the camp has been destroyed and there aren’t really any notable places left behind? Well there is one. The tree we all signed our names on, well most of it anyways. But lucky for us I could still make out both Trevor and Xavier’s names. And exactly 644 steps straight ahead of those signatures is the entrance to the camp.

“You’re point being?” Montana snips, tired of waiting for him to get to the climax of his story.

“My point being. Right now I am in Camp Redwood.”

He says, before he slowly and dramatically takes one long stride over the line he had drawn.

“...now I’m not...”

“and I feel fine”

Notes: i wasn’t really planning on uploading any of my writing here, but I feel like there is more of an interest in Xavier content than on ao3 so why not? Basically the jist of this comes from speculating what would happen to the spirits stuck at the hellmouth’s after the apocalypse (which I know many people have wondered and we’ve never been given a definitive answer). So I wondered what would happen if the whole world became one large hellmouth and the spirits could roam free. This series follows you an Xavier as you eventually make your way to rumored Sanctuary. It will involve Michael Langdon, and as of right now might get kind of dark, so fair warning. Anyways, thank you for reading!

Tagging this supporting queen: @guiltyfiend

[hqmoonsun]

are you there? 🎧

genre: angst

pairing: kageyama x gn!reader

warnings: cussing, mention of death

word count: 1.3k

synopsis: once you turn 18, you receive a pair of wireless headphones, which you could use to communicate with your soulmate

“Happy Birthday!” your parents cheerfully greet as you blow the last candle on your cake.

“I’ve reached the magic number,” you smile to yourself, your pulse picking up at the thought of finally talking to your soulmate.

‘What are they like? How should I start the conversation? What if they haven’t turned 18 yet?’ are the three major questions that have lingered by your side since you turned 16. Today is the day that they are answered.

“Open it!” your older sister and her soulmate excitedly say in unison as your mom pushes a wrapped gift in front of you.

“Is this it?” you look up to your mom, who is nodding vigorously. She is just as excited as everyone else in the room.

You carefully tear the red wrapper around the gift, revealing a plain white box. Your pulse picks up again as you open the box, which contains a set of wireless headphones. Of course, they’re not the regular wireless ones that you already have. It’s specifically designed for you and your soulmate, so you could connect and communicate.

You excuse yourself from your family and make your way upstairs and into your room with the box at hand.

Before plugging it into your ears, you carefully examine the headphones to stall time. Yes, you can’t wait to meet your soulmate, but at the same time, you can’t help but also feel nervous.

“Well, here goes everything,” you deeply exhale before finally wearing the headphones.

Static.

“Huh?” you whine out loud, realizing you don’t know how this whole thing works. “Hello?” you test for a reply.

“Hi,” a rather deep, yet soft voice comes from the other end of the line.

“I think we’re soulmates,” you mumble.

“No shit,” they answer in a tone that you couldn’t tell whether they mean it in the nicest or meanest way possible. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for exactly 121 days,” they add on, their voice shifting into a sulky tone.

“Im sorry, it appears I was born 121 days later,” you giggle as you picture them pouting.

“I’m kageyama, what should I call you?”

“Call me y/n, Kageyama,” you could hear him gasp a little after saying his name.

“Hi, y/n,” he replies after regaining his composture.

“I thought you were exaggerating with the gasp, but wow, my name never sounded so beautiful,” you admit.

Seconds, minutes and hours pass by and the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other.

“Can I ask a question?” you ask since a particular question won’t stop bothering you.

“Go ahead, y/n,” there he goes again, your name leaving his lips.

“Where are you from? I wanna know our timezone differences,” you finally let the question escape its cage.

“Thats a secret, for now,” he cheekily answers, making you overthink of many possible ways you could reach him personally.

“Don’t tell me we’re like neighbors or something,” even though you already know who lives next door, you hope that it’s still a possibility.

“Maybe, or maybe not,” he teases, “You’ll find out soon, y/n,”

“Okay, Kageyama”

For the hours you’ve talked, the two of you had made the habit of saying each other’s name as a way to tease each other.

-a month later-

“How was your day?” Kageyama starts from the other end as you plop face down into your bed.

“Exhausting,” you groan, finally being able to let out how tired you are from practice.

“Im sorry, babe, I wish I could hold you,” he casually comforts, filling your stomach with butterflies.

‘BABE?!?!’ you panic in your head as it’s the first time he’s called you that.

“Me too, babe,” you try to say in the most casual way as possible to hide the fact that you’re extremely flustered right now.

“It’s our first month tomorrow!” you remember after quickly glancing at your calendar.

“Right,” Kageyama’s voice falters.

“Are you okay?” you quickly sit up as worry settles in after hearing his tone.

“Yeah, just sad we can’t see each other,” he confirms, but it sounds like a lie.

“If you’re ready to tell me where you’re from, we could arrange something,” you suggest, trying to lift up the mood.

The line goes silent for what seems like forever that you wondered if Kageyama unplugged his headphones.

“You there?” you ask in confusion.

“Sorry, my family has visitors, talk to you later,” he finally answers before abruptly taking off his headphones.

All you could hear now is the painfully, deafening static. It might just be nothing, but your gutis telling you something is wrong.

-a week after-

Later became next week.

Kageyama never plugged in that day and the day after that and the day after that and so on.

It’s been a week and every time you wake up, the first thing you do is check whether the static had gone away and Kageyama is waiting for you to explain his sudden disappearance.

‘Was it something I said? Am I being pushy about wanting to know where in the world he’s from? Can soulmates even break up?’ are the major questions that’s basically drilled into your head the moment you wake up and before you drift off to sleep.

You drag yourself out of your bed and to your desk, where your headphones lays. At this point, it’s more surprising if Kageyama greets you this time, instead of the static you’ve grown accustomed to after barely taking off your headphones for a week.

As you plug it in for the seventh day this week, your heart drops at the sound of stillness from the other end.

“Kageyama?” you ask, your voice shaking in shock.

“Y/n,” he starts before you cut him off.

“Where the fuck have you been? I was so worried, especially at how our last conversation ended,” your voice unintentionally raising itself out of frustration.

“I’m sorry,” is all he could blurt out.

“Please don’t disappear from me like that ever again,” a tear falls from your left eye.

“I can’t promise that,” his voice breaks mid-sentence.

“What do you mean?” now, you’re confused and worried. The gut feeling from last week is coming back and is stronger than ever.

“Y/n,” your name escapes his mouth again, but this time, he doesn’t mean it teasingly. This time, it’s filled with pain.

“Kageyama, what’s wrong?” your heart picks up and you don’t know what to feel.

“I,” he starts, “I dont exist anymore”.

“What does that even mean?” you let out a scoff, in hopes that he’s just playing with you.

“I mean, I’m gone, y/n,” he explains slowly, his voice now shaky.

“Dead?” you clarify, “I’m talking to my dead soulmate? Is that even possible?” you laugh, hoping that Kageyama laughs with you, but he remains silent.

Without plugging off your headphones, you dash out your bedroom and storm down the stairs.

“Mom!” you desperately shout, “Dad!”.

“What’s wrong?” the both of them rush to you, worry plastered on their faces.

“Is it possible that m-“ your voice breaks, “that my soulmate is dead?”

Your mom’s face softens while your dad straightens up. They exchange looks in silence.

“Please say no,” you plead as your eyes brim with tears “Please say no,” you repeat, desperate for the answer you want to hear.

“Im so sorry,” is the only thing that your mom says before she engulfs you in her arms.

You break away from her as you scream of sorrow. You dash back to your room and close the door shut. You stand behind the door, heavily sobbing to yourself. Feeling your legs getting weaker by the second, you surrender to the floor.

“Y/n, I’m so, so sorry,” Kageyama speaks again, his voice making it apparent that he’s crying too.

“You’re telling me,” you pause in between sobs, “that I’ll never get to hold you? Intertwine my hands with yours? Lock eyes with you?”

“I would do anything to be able to do that,” he replies sniffing.

“Where are you right now?” you ask, pulling your knees closer to you.

“I’m right here,” he says, “next to you, y/n” Kageyama reveals as he hugs you in the afterlife.

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

The Helping Hand

This is a Repost from my Ao3 I wanted to bring it to Tumblr. I hope you like it Its currently 5 chapters I will be uploading the rest throughout the rest of the week.

Word Count: 3300 approx

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Ch.4

Chapter 5: Age of Ultron pt.2

Ch.6

"Y/N you can't keep coming in and not talking." Your therapist tells you quite frustrated. "I'm paying you aren't I, I'll do what I please with the time I pay for." You say finally making eye contact with her. She only sighs. "Y/N I find that often people ask for help in the most obvious yet concealed manner."

You turn away, she continues. "You said it yourself you're paying me… If you don't want me to ask these questions, walk out and stop paying me." You look back "I can't… because I feel like I might just explode at any point." She nods encouraging you to continue. 

"Recently I went through something that combined with all the other shit i've gone through… I can't cope. I don't know how." You wipe your eyes and continue. "I've never been stable, but i've always been okay with that. I've never lost anyone in a traumatic way." Your therapist lifts their head. "Who have you lost?"

"I never knew my parents so I didn't really lose them. I knew that Howard was going to pass and I got closure." She jumps in when she realizes you stopped talking. "And what makes this loss different?" You look at her with a tear rolling down your cheek. "The fact that it was my fault."

Three Weeks Ago 

Wanda speaks first "I read your mind and all I saw was destruction." He promptly asked her to check again. He then goes on to have some sort of existential crisis not knowing what he actually is. I didn't really start to listen until Clint mentioned where Nat was… Sokovia. You immediately got pale once you heard what Ultron was planning to do with Sokovia. "I need to make a call" you say mostly to yourself but Pietro heard you. 

No one noticed you stepped out of the room but him. "Who do you think you're calling?" You jump as he sped in front of you. "I need to warn my family they need to get out." Pietro only laughs "Forgive me but you don't seem like one to have family much less in Sokovia of all places. Why don't you just tell me the truth"

"Im aware you might not know me but I'm Y/N Krast… I run the practice I need to warn my friends.  They'll spread the word and start an evac." He sighs. "You need to tell the rest of the guys. It might not be the best move." You nod and walk back into the room there all in. Tony notices you and walks straight to you fearing the Maximoff kid did something to you. 

"Did he do anything kiddo because if he did I swear to…" you cut him off. "Im fine but I need to ask you something." He nods telling you to proceed. "Can I warn my friends back in Sokovia? They can help get the people out of there." Tony looks at you and nods. "I guess it can't hurt to take some precautions. Do it." You smile and walk out the room Dialing David immediately. 

"Y/N are you okay, it's like three in the morning." You're relieved to hear his voice. "Listen to me David, you need to get as many people as you can out of Sokovia. The people are in danger." Davud sighs "Are you having another melt down remember breathe. In and out…" 

"David this is not a game, you have to get as many people as you can out now… Tell Viv too she needs to get her family out. Do as I say David please the people will listen to you." David starts talking again, the panic rising in his voice. "Y/N what do you know… more importantly how do you know?" You raise your voice. "FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE DON'T QUESTION ME! Just do it." 

David, shocked by your reaction shifts his tone. "I'll do my best. I need to go." He hangs up not even giving you a chance to say goodbye. (This is what you'll end up regretting later.) 

"You truly care for these people… your family or friends." You look up and see the last person you expected. The witch is standing there in the doorway. "Yes, I do care, Wanda because believe it or not we're not all bad people." The comment came out more spiteful than you expected wincing at your own words. You're about to apologize when she beats you to it. "I'm sorry about earlier." She looks down picking at her hands. 

You sit down on the steps facing a window and signal for her to sit as well. She joins you reluctantly. "I'm not going to bite." You say. Drawing out a small laugh that made your heart flutter. "Did you see inside my head?" You ask. Her head tilts at your question, but ultimately she shakes her head. "Yeah it happens sometimes I can't control it." You nod. "For the record I dont think youre a bitch. Well I did in the moment…" she cuts you off laughing. "I believe the words you used were 'Crazy Bitch'." You chuckle. 

"We should get going…" You stand, helping her up and go to the team. “I contacted my friend David, and I texted my… other friend Viv. They’ve started evacuating people as we speak.” Tony nods and gives you an understanding look. “Now what's our plan to save Nat.” Steve goes on to explain his plan which consists of getting as many people as we could out then fighting Ultron. Once you arrived in Sokovia the streets were desolate. Not a soul in sight.

Pietro gazes in astonishment. “Your friends are good.” You nod relieved seeing that David and Viv did what you asked. “Well check if there are any people left behind…” Wanda cuts in. You weren't given the time to check for any last bystanders when she city starts shaking, and there are bots everywhere. You realize that Sokovia is flying. Tony then informs you of Ultrons plans. You all split up fighting the bots and Bruce made his way to Nat. Not long after Hulk and Natasha had made their way to the now floating Sokovia. Long story short the bad guy was defeated, and all was right in the world again.

Present 

“Alright Doc, have you been following this I know first hand it can be a little complicated.” She nods as you continue. “Well my friends, not the Avengers. Umm… their names were David, and Vivian.” She notices your struggle to continue but you power through the tears building in your eyes. “You see, saving the world came at a price, a price that I was willing to pay, but not like this. I got to the compound, and dialled David and what did I find?” She tells you to continue. “Five… Five missed calls from David telling me that he was going to stay behind in the Practice with Viv.” Tears are now streaming down your cheeks. “Now I imagine that you know what happened to Sokovia ‘Boom’.” You signal with our hands telling her that it was all gone.

Suddenly a timer goes off and your walls are up again. “Y/N you can continue if you want to, I don't…” You interrupt her standing up and heading to the door. “Actually I think that, that was enough for today.” You say walking out. It was confirmed both David and Viv dead… and it was all because of you. After this you distanced yourself. Declining Maria Hills offer to become an Avenger, and also walking away from the Stark Industries collaboration. Unfortunately falling down a deeper hole than you'd ever been in with our addiction. When walking out of the office building your shrink is in when you bump into someone.... 

“Long time no see Y/N!” You recognize the voice immediately. “I saw you following me last week, as a matter of fact i've spotted you multiple times Natasha.” She laughs, and you roll your eyes. “Now why are you mad Y/N what did you think would happen? You ghosted everyone after Sokovia, why are you angry?” You sigh and start walking away but she stops you. “Because you were right Natasha there was a cost to this and it's taking quite the toll.” Natasha lets go of your arm confused “What are you talking about everything came out great.” you laugh bitterly “For almost everyone else oh and feel free to tell Pepper than I'm not taking her calls no matter how hard she insists.”

“Does this have anything to do with the drugs Y/N because if it does I know some people that can help you.” The way she says it almost makes you believe that she cares, but at the end of the day you know she had orders. You look at her incredulously walking away again, this time she doesnt stop you.  

Natashas POV

“Well if you're not going to tell me guess i'm going to have to find out the hard way.” You walk into the building Y/N just came out of and make your way to the Shrink's office. You not so nicely asked for Y/N’s file. As youre reading the file you remember her words bitter and angry “For almost everyone…” Now it makes sense her friends died and no one was there for her. Fuck. You pick up the phone and dial Pepper. “I know what's going on. Call a meeting in the compound and I'll get there in thirty minutes.”  

You meet up with everyone at the compound. You share the files with the team and everyone is shocked talking with each other until you notice Wanda. She doesn't look surprised. You pull her aside. "Why are you being quiet? What do you know about Y/N." She sighs "It was an accident alright when we came back I looked into her head. She looked so happy I was curious… When I looked she was grieving, tearing herself apart." 

You look at her. "And you said nothing you let us believe that she just didn't care." She laughs. "She doesn't! She doesn't want your help, she made that quite clear already. The one person she thought that she could count on was some guy named Logan." You querk your head, was she jealous, are you jealous. You shake your head. "What else did you see?" Your ask casually. Testing the waters you didn't want to expose Y/N but you have to know what she knew. 

"Was there something else I was supposed to see?" You shake your head no, and make your way back to the team. There's fighting over who should talk to her. "I think Tony should go…" Steve says like it's nothing. You almost laugh. Tony gives you a dirty look. "I think pepper should go." You say matter of factly. She asks you to elaborate. "She cares for you the most, but she is angry not at you in general." She nods and everyone else agrees for lack of a better idea. 

Peppers Pov 

You walk out of the compound with Tony by your side. "You can come if you want to." Your say to break the silence. He shakes his head. "When are you going to tell her that you're her father." He only sighs "I can't tell her… I can't ruin Howard for her because she loved him." You quickly counter "It's going to be worse the longer you wait." You continue "The only reason I didn't push before was because you weren't sure but now you are Tony she's your daughter." 

"That's exactly why I can't tell her now she's dealing with a lot. It's not a good time." You nod "Fine." Is all you can say. You walk into Krast industries expecting to be greeted by a busy work floor but are surprised when you see the exact opposite. You do see a familiar face though commandeering the floor. Logan. "Hey logan how are you? I'm hoping I could talk to Y/N." Logan stops in his tracks. 

"What do you mean if i've seen her? I thought she was with you guys." He says the panic growing in his voice. "Umm… no she's not been with us for a couple of weeks now. Are you sure you haven't seen her and what's going on here." 

Logans Pov 

Of course you knew where she was, but you weren't about to tell them. "Yeah no I've talked to her on the phone I just figured she was with your guys." Pepper is still confused about what is happening. "She asked me to get ready for major remodel… all our employees will work from home for the time being." She nods. "Do you know where I could find her? I really need to talk to her." Well that's not going to happen now. Seen as she's currently passed out on your couch. 

"She might be at home… She does this sometimes. She runs, but i'll give you her address if you really want to talk to her."

Your Pov 

After running into Natasha you went to a bar. A complete rookie move. You knew better, but at the same time you didn't care you've been loading up taking a larger doses and mixing with alcohol. You called Logan to come pick you up and he was there like always. "I can't lose you Logan, I wouldn't survive it. Why does everyone I love die?" He holds his tongue you can tell. "Tell me what you're thinking it's not good to hold your emotions in…" He laughs bitterly. "You think I'd survive losing you Y/N this feeling goes both ways. You're blind to my pain Y/N seeing you like this hurts me it shakes me to my core."

"I'm not blind to your pain… I know you better than I know myself. I'm going to therapy, and before you say it i'm actually talking this time. I'm getting help." He nods "Every step of the way that includes relapsing. Y/N just don't make me lose you." You nod tears building in your eyes. "I won't." 

When you wake up you're in Logan's apartment it's nice. Your head is pounding. You decide to go home… in hindsight that was a horrible idea. You have no idea where you are and also have no idea where you're going.  "Fuck… taxi, TAXI." 

They dont fucking stop you dont blame them you look like trash, hell you feel like it too. You make it to a coffee shop and just sit there. Waiting for what you don't know at least not until the owner comes around. "I don't want to have to kick you out but it's nearing closing time, want me go call a cab." 

You laugh "See id say yes and please but I don't remember where I live." He nods feeling bad for you. "Having a bad day, want to talk about it?" You sigh “I would, but sadly my opening up to complete strangers quota is full for the day.” They laugh handing you some coffee. “It 'll help you sober up, So what is it? Alcohol, meth, let me guess pills.” You widen your eyes. “Don't worry, I'm not judging I meet people of all walks of life.” You nod. “Do you mind if I make a call my friend is probably worried sick.” He hands you his phone and you dial Logan (the only number you know by heart.) “Y/N where are you ive been worried sick. Why did you leave?” 

“I went out for coffee you know to sober up faster I needed air.” He sighs “Can you make your way back or do you want me to pick you up?” You turn from the barista person in front of you. “Um I want to go home but I can't for the life of me remember my address.”  David gives you your address and calls you a cab. You thank him and end the call. “So it looks like I'm heading home in a minute the taxi won't take long.” He smiles reaching his hand out to take their phone back. “I’ll see you around probably…” You nod "probably not.” You say hesitantly, and he laughs. You Are interrupted by the taxi honking its horn. “I hope to see you around by the way. I'm Zack Gordon.” your smile drops immediately. 

You compose yourself before he notices your change in attitude. You plaster on a fake smile and make your way out turning one last time. “We’ll see each other around Zack.” He smiles. The whole cab ride was silent, you're contemplating fate. What are the fucking odds of all the cafe’s you could have walked into you walked into his. When you least expect it you’re in front of your house. You walk in and immediately notice something off. You walk into your living room only to see someone sitting in the dark. You know who it is immediately. “Always with the theatrics, it's starting to get old. Would you like something to drink.” She sighs “Y/N I want to talk.”  You sit clapping your hands causing the lights in the house to turn on.

“Right Pepper talk, i'm listening” Her eyes widen, showing her confusion. “Look, I'm not angry with our team or you, but I just have some crap to deal with… Alone.” Pepper looks down. “You don't have to go through this alone, you have us now.” Your eyes bolt to hers. “And how exactly do you know what i'm going through… You know what I don't need to know because it doesn't matter.” you sigh “I’ve gone through life alone. I dealt with the punches life has thrown my way by myself. This won't be the exception.” You see Peppers complexion turn red, she's angry. “Why can't you stop making yourself a martyr, talk about dealing with children? You and Tony are the only ones who can make me this irritated.”

“Because I'm broken Pepper and before Natasha or Wanda decide to tell you I'm an addict. Everything is wrong right now so I need to take a step away, I need to get clean.” Peppers eyes soften moving to sit next to you. “You know i'm not leaving your side right?” Your eyes begin to water. “I relapsed… it's bad Pepper. I've never fallen this hard and I'm scared.” She hugs you. “I’ve never had this… people who really care it was just Logan and I.  As of recently it was David, Viv, and I. Now I lost them and I can't. I can't sleep, I can't breathe, and I'm so tired Pepper I don't know how much more of this I can take.” 

“Okay come on Y/N let's get you to your room.” You and Pepper stand on your way up the stairs and you start to stumble. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this. I am very sorry I drank coffee to sober up but it didn't work.” She nods “It’s okay we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” You both finally make it to your room and as soon as your head hits the pillow you fall asleep.

When you wake up you are surprised by your surroundings you didn't quite remember how you got here. You sit up and hear chattering downstairs. You go down stairs, the memories of last night making their way to you now. THE AVENGERS HAVING BREAKFAST IN YOUR KITCHEN. You watch as thor brakes your plates making you flinch. “As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm I dont think Y/N would appreciate us breaking her plates.” you clear your throat and as you do everyone goes quiet. “Good Morning everyone.”

[ao3theskyisblue]

From the outside

Summary:

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Kegan turned towards Officer Reyes, who was looking at him bemusedly, one arm leaning on the driver-side door and the other on the steering wheel, his fingers drumming on it rhythmically. He could also see the hint of concern in his gaze, no doubt seeing through his façade but also kindly didn’t ask questions Kegan wasn’t sure how to answer.

"Woke up late today."

Written for @911lonestarangstweek Day 2: Physical whump + “Does it hurt badly?” 

Just a heads up it’s OC-centric (outsider’s POV) 

Read on AO3

When Kegan woke up to complete silence, the light brighter than it should have been at 7am in the morning peeking in through the gap between his curtains, he should have known it was going to be a terrible day. There were no birds chirping, no neighbours yelling about broken lawn gnomes, nothing.

The quiet was always a cue for sudden disaster.

Fumbling for his phone on the bedside table, he lifted the screen only to fall off the bed with a loud thud and a string of curses at three realizations.

One: his snooze was a lie.

Two: he was going to be late on the last day of his trial week.

Three: he forgot to iron his uniform yesterday.

“Fuck me in the ear with a corn.” Kegan groaned, giving up on saving his duvet and instead shoving it in the general direction of the bed before sprinting to the bathroom. He shoved his toothbrush into his mouth, squeezing toothpaste on at the last second and hoping the brushes hopefully scraped across a few of his teeth.

He dampened his skin underneath a stream of cold water, but it wasn’t hardly enough for a towel to wipe off as he shimmied into his work clothes, slipping on his duty belt last. Grabbing a comb on his way out of the bathroom, he jumped the entirety of the stairs, miraculously without breaking a knee, and slid into the kitchen.

With his comb stuck in his curls.

His mother visibly startled, spinning around to look at him with eyes widened in shock, almost dropping the bowl of strawberries in her hand. Kegan snatched a few, ignoring his mother’s disapproving look before shoving them down his throat.  

“Shove them any harder and you’ll choke.” His mother says drily, placing the bowl onto the counter and Kegan works to swallow the three he managed to stuff in his mouth. He can feel the lumps slowly moving down his esophagus, the slight pain of the movement a nice distraction as he thought of all the excuses he could for why he would be showing up late today to the precinct.

Unfortunately, he knew who he would be shadowing today and lying to this man in particular twisted more guilt in his stomach than anyone else in the police department.

“Not the worst thing I’ve choked on.” Kegan shrugged, smiling at his mother innocently when she scrunched up her nose.

“Sorry I didn’t wake you, I thought you’d already left.” Kegan stilled at that, the smile on his face now a mere gesture of courtesy rather than truth as he looked away.

They both knew why she didn’t bother waking him up. He didn’t need to be studying to become a police officer to hear the blatant lie through his mother’s voice, and that phone call he happened to overhear a few days ago suddenly rang loudly in his ears.

Kegan didn’t bother with a response, instead heading out of the kitchen and towards the entranceway, grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door. He didn’t look up to know his mother was watching him, eyes piercing him like a hawk as he stood in uniform.

“I don’t know why you’re trying so hard to prove a point.”

The words came out quiet, as if just an absent thought that was accidentally said out loud, but Kegan looked up this time, eyes blazing with a ferocity that had his mother stepping back in response.

“I’m not doing this to prove anybody a point,” Kegan says lowly, anger prickling along his spine and making the hairs on his arms stand on end. “I’m doing it for me. You don’t need to understand, or support me. But say it to my face next time instead of behind my back. Stabbing me would hurt less.”

Kegan didn’t wait for his mother’s reaction before pulling the front door open roughly and slamming it shut behind him. The bright sun seemed to be taunting him with its brilliant presence, as if shining any brighter would overcloud the dark shadow that seemed to never stop looming over him ever since they packed their bags and left Venice.

It was going to be a terrible day.

 .

Two hours into his shift, and Kegan already wanted to drown himself in his bathtub while holding onto a plugged-in toaster.

Two fender benders that involved idiots and their screaming that probably left permanent scarring to his eardrums. A woman who thought her neighbours had gotten into a fight with all the banging on the walls until they arrived and saw things that almost made him grab the nearest bottle of sanitizer and scrub his eyes clean. Then there was the elderly man who thought someone was trying to break into his house only to find a woodpecker innocently drilling a hole on the side of his doorframe.

It couldn’t get any worse, could it?  

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Kegan turned towards Officer Reyes, who was looking at him bemusedly, one arm leaning on the driver-side door and the other on the steering wheel, his fingers drumming on it rhythmically. He could also see the hint of concern in his gaze, no doubt seeing through his façade but also kindly didn’t ask questions Kegan wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Woke up late today. Didn’t have time to grab anything before we were called in.” Kegan sighed, not bothering with keeping his guard up. He’s shadowed Officer Reyes a few times during the trial week, and he was one of the few officers in Austin PD that he actually liked. One thing he’s learned from the first time he shadowed him was that the man had no time for bullshit. Emotions, including ones that told him to just punch straight through walls were valid as long as he talked about it.

Open communication and all that.

They were doing a routine patrol, eyes peeled and other senses alert for any calls that could come through the radio. So far, the calls had been mostly in other districts that already had their own patrols answering, and the next light was the indication they successfully drove one full loop. So, when Officer Reyes suddenly turned right when they were supposed to go straight, Kegan frowned.

“Uh, were we supposed to make that turn just now?” Kegan peered back, not like that could have done anything to change the direction they were driving but Officer Reyes just shook his head.

“There’s a café nearby.” At his skeptical look, the officer rolled his eyes. “The city will be fine if we take a five-minute break.” Officer Reyes says, making Kegan raise an eyebrow. Of the limited time they’ve spent time together, he never pegged him to be a complete rule-sticker, but this unexpected gesture still caught him off guard.

They stopped next to a fairly busy café, the store sign making him snort in disbelief as he got out of the cruiser, shutting the door behind him.

“Definitely not ominous.” Kegan says wryly, looking up at the vibrant ‘The Hideout Café – Seek Out Your Poison!’ sign above his head. There was a quiet chuckle beside him, and he turned to see Officer Reyes sporting a wide smile, amusement dancing across his features. He looked around the area and frowned when he saw a red minivan travelling suspiciously towards them.

“Hey, isn’t that car driving too fast?” Kegan moved to get a better look, frowning when the vehicle not only didn’t slow down, but instead seemed to be deliberately heading towards them.

He turned towards Reyes, about to ask what they should do in this situation but frowned when his eyes widened in horror.

His hand was already on his radio, but nothing could have prepared him for a shout, a hard shove, and the equivalence of his soul being knocked out of him.

And just like the day the cops showed up to his doorstep with bulletproof vests and guns raised in search of his father, his world stopped.

.

The individual granules of sand in an hourglass.

He remembered staring at them when he was younger, fascinated as the particles slowly trickled down with time. It was hypnotizing, but he would glance up occasionally to gaze at the clock hanging above the piano, watching the minuscule tilt of the hour-hand each time the minute-hand made its rotation.

It was a weird sensation, the brief moment where your life flashes by in old film. But just as quick as they came, they’re abruptly cut off as if given to him at the wrong time.

There were thoughts sluggishly trying to make sense in his mind, and Kegan wondered if memories could transcend the living and stay with the dead.

He winced against the sun’s rays, the crick in his back making itself known before he was assaulted by a cacophony of sound.

“-okay? Someone call 911!”

“They literally are 911-”

“I don’t think the other officer’s breathing.”

Kegan sat up abruptly at that, testing his fingers and toes and letting out a breath of relief when he felt them both. He couldn’t help but notice the red minivan speeding off, his training kicking in and automatically memorizing the license plate before it disappeared in the crowd.

“Are you alright, officer?”

Kegan turned his head towards the voice, seeing a barista leaning over him slightly, eyes wide with shock and concern. He opened his mouth to reply, before the entirety of his memories kicked back in.

Where was Officer Reyes?

Kegan scrambled up, staggering and clutching onto the barista’s shoulder when he reached out to steady him. His eyes darted around the crowded street, ignoring the phones and insistent chatter and focused on something a little way away from him.

No.

Stumbling forward, he forced his legs to move towards the man sprawled down on the sidewalk, one hand leaning down to feel for a pulse and the other reaching for his radio.

“This is 363-H-20. I need medics at Congress and 7th, officer down! Send out an APB for a red minivan with Texas licence plates Alpha-Charlie-Foxtrot-3875.” Kegan didn’t know how he hadn’t stuttered when his heart was currently beating outside of his chest, barely clinging onto the last moments of clarity.  He barely heard the affirmative through dispatch for both his requests, before leaning down to see if the man laying so still beneath him was still breathing.

He was, and his pulse was steady, but he wasn’t awake.

“Officer Reyes? Can you hear me?” Kegan pinched his earlobe, his instincts and training working on autopilot, and slapped the ground beside Officer Reyes’ ears a few times.

The man didn’t so much as stir.

Kegan made sure to consistently check his pulse and breathing, prodding his body gently for any injuries he might have missed, eyes flitting up every few seconds to watch for eye movement. He didn’t move the man, the paramedics would be the judge of that, and he couldn’t see anything else other than a nasty bruise starting to form just above his lower back.

“How is he?”

Kegan barely spared the barista, who was still crouching beside him for some reason, a look as he shook his head.

“I don’t-”

“Rossi?”

Kegan’s whirled his head, letting out a choked sound of relief when he saw Officer Reyes blinking blearily at him, looking beyond confused. There was a 7-second delay before he seemed to remember what had happened, and Kegan didn’t hesitate to hold him still when he tried to get up.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” Officer Reyes asked, and Kegan let out a sound of disbelief, hearing the barista beside him scoff incredulously. That sound almost validated everything he was thinking at the moment, and absently noted to buy the barista a drink for their service.

“Officer Reyes, was it? You were just thrown in the air like a sack of potatoes when that idiot driver decided the sidewalk would be the perfect place to take his new wheels for a spin,” The barista said, and Kegan glanced at the name card that read ‘Lawrence.’ Kegan startled when Lawrence turned towards him, a kind but worried smile still present on his lips. “If you hadn’t pushed this one out of the way and yelled that warning, things could have gone a lot worse.”

Kegan bit back a sharp retort on how it was already a worse case scenario because someone got hurt, but his mother had always told him to bite his tongue when emotions were running on fumes, and he knew nothing would come from yelling at a barista for something out of his control.

“Well, at least I can skip the paperwork.” Kegan narrowed his eyes, sending the other officer a dirty look.

“Oh, you’re doing all the paperwork. I’m even giving you mine, seeing as you just stripped at least five years off my lifespan.” Kegan glowered, and Reyes had the sheer audacity to laugh weakly. “Can you wiggle your toes?” He sighed in relief when he saw the slight movement, though still kept the officer as still as possible for the paramedics to confirm.

The sound of distant sirens grew closer, and Kegan immediately spun around from the noise when he heard the officer groan.

“What? What’s wrong? Where’s the pain?” Kegan asked, ready to dive in at a moment’s notice but Reyes was focused on something past him.

“I’m about the get the lecture of a lifetime. From all three of them.” The man muttered, and Kegan looked back to see the ambulance parked by the sidewalk, three figures hopping out. One of the female paramedics tossed something to the male, who caught it without even looking at her. They were making their way towards them, and Kegan frowned when the male paramedic suddenly froze, eyes widening at their figures on the ground. He could have sworn he didn’t blink, but one second the paramedic was by the ambulance, the next he was crouching down next to Officer Reyes, stethoscope ready and already checking ABCs.

“This isn’t your usual area.” Officer Reyes says in lieu of a greeting, and Kegan unconsciously stepped back to give them some space to work and to avoid the dark aura encircling the male paramedic who looked up, unimpressed.

“I could say the same for you.” There were some medical words exchanged then, and Kegan heard what he guessed to be the Captain spell out a series of tests they’ll do at the hospital. He couldn’t help but feel another wave of anxiety when the C collar got strapped on – that’s usually a bad thing, right? The male paramedic barely spared him a glance before shining a flashlight in Officer Reyes’ eyes.

“Name.”

“Really?”

“Answer the question.”

“Carlos Reyes.”

He stood to the side, watching as the Captain cautiously lifted Reyes’ uniform and frown at the bruising, prodding it skillfully and gauging the officer’s reaction. He could see the male paramedic flinch as if just the sight of the injury caused him insurmountable pain.

“D-does it, um, does it hurt badly?”

Four pairs of eyes turned to look at him, and Kegan really wished he had heeded his mother’s advice to just keep on sticking his foot in his mouth.

“No,” the male paramedic started sarcastically, a TK Strand that Kegan could make out now stitched on his uniform, “He’s just fine and dandy being run over by a four thousand pound moving brick. He can finally check it off his to-do list for the day.” TK scowled, his movements more aggressive than usual when swinging the stethoscope around his neck again, but Kegan could still see how the anger seemed to fade when he worked with the others to prod the officer for other injuries.

He heard a few snickers from the other two female paramedics that were quickly covered by badly hidden coughs, and really wished Mother Nature would offer him a hole to climb into.

Officer Reyes, who was still a little out of it but thankfully very much alive seemed to be on the verge of laughter himself. “TK, stop scaring him. I’m fine.”

Kegan winced, feeling the change in atmosphere before TK’s eyes even narrowed, and if he wasn’t quite frozen in place he would definitely have stumbled a few steps back from avoiding the icy chill that filled the air around them.

“You and I must have very different definitions of ‘fine.’” TK muttered. Kegan felt chills running down his spine at the deadly glint when those eyes passed over him for a millisecond.

It suddenly sent him back to when he was five years old, when he had brought a stray puppy home and learned how to fear a human being for the first time. His father had looked at the puppy like it was the worst thing created by mother nature, before taking it away and he never saw the little golden retriever again.

Now he knew why.

But he also attributed green eyes to his grandmother, who was an entire ball of warmth.

Who knew green eyes that had always felt so comforting whenever his grandmother smothered him with hugs and kisses when he was younger could feel like daggers that could skewer you alive on another person?

“I’m sorry we never got your coffee.” Kegan looked down at Officer Reyes, who was looking up at him apologetically, and Kegan didn’t know whether he should cry or punch something at how unreasonably nice he was being. They weren’t close, but Kegan respected him immensely, and he could tell from the way TK’s shoulders hadn’t relaxed from their tense position that he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“I’ve already received the wake-up call of the century. Coffee’s on me next time.” Kegan says lightly, before his eyes widened in horror as TK turned his stormy gaze on him. “Not that I want you to get hit by another car! I’ll gladly take the coffee over any car. And I’ll stop talking. Like right now.”

Yeah, he really needed that bath with the toaster. Maybe he’ll even add in his mother’s hair straightener just to seal the deal.

“Why don’t you sit down?” The Captain, Vega, says kindly, eyes shining with exasperated amusement as she shoots TK a look, and Kegan looks at her, puzzled.

“Why?”

“We need to check you over, too.” The other female paramedic, Gillian, says. She’s looking at him kindly, but doesn’t leave TK’s side as they make sure Carlos is stable for transport.

“But I’m fine? He’s the one who lost consciousness for a few minutes.” Kegan frowns in confusion, and sees TK whirl his head back towards the officer, looking like he wanted to throttle the man.

“And you didn’t think that was vital information?”

“It wasn’t that long!”

“Any length of time being unwillingly unconscious is important, Carlos.”

There was a moment of unspoken words between them and an exchanged look with Captain Vega before Gillian started checking for head injuries. There weren’t any visual signs of trauma, but Kegan has seen enough medical dramas to always expect the impossible.

“And to add on to earlier, no one who gets manhandled by this guy ever ends up fine. The shock may be hiding injuries you can’t feel right now.” TK looked up at him, but not before giving Officer Reyes another glare when he makes a noise in protest.

“I’m not that bad!”

“Tell that to your kitchen counter. And the bedroom wall.” The smallest of smiles lights up TK’s face, and Kegan watches in awe as Officer Reyes grins unabashedly at that.

He didn’t even know the man had any other expressions other than polite smiles and stoic everythings.

“You were on scene for all of them, care to share the grievance?” The soft look they exchanged made something in Kegan’s brain click in place, and he felt himself smiling despite current events.

In the end, they had been lucky. Had Officer Reyes not pushed him away when he did, the accident would have ended up with a black bag and cops knocking on his mother’s doorstep, when the last thing he said to her wasn’t ‘I love you.’ He would be walking away with minor aches, and Officer Reyes-

Had closed his eyes.

He wasn’t the only one that noticed, judging by how TK’s face drained in colour, eyes wide as he tried to get Officer Reyes to open his eyes.

“Carlos? Hey, stay awake – Carlos?! Cap!!” TK immediately reached his fingers to check Carlos’ pulse, and Kegan watched with bated breath as medical jargon sprout out from all three of them, with Captain Vega swearing under her breath when Gillian mentioned something about chest movement.

“We need to get him to a hospital, now.” The other two paramedics immediately lifted Officer Reyes on the stretcher, running towards the ambulance and Kegan could only watch, horrified when TK yelled that they had lost a pulse.

He had been conscious earlier.

He had been talking.

And now he could be –

“Go.”

Kegan startled, turning his head to see Lawrence gently guiding him towards the ambulance.

“I’ll keep an eye on your police car. You’re in no state to drive, and I think you’ll feel better if you go with them.” Lawrence urged, and Kegan didn’t know what else to say but a quick ‘thank you,’ receiving a shoulder squeeze in response before jumping into the back of the ambulance, the paramedics not even batting an eye as they sped off.

They must have gotten Officer Reyes’ pulse back in the time between his hesitancy and the nudge from Lawrence, so Kegan tried his best to focus on the weak but steady rhythm of the heart monitor as TK and Captain Vega worked to make sure his heart kept on beating.

He’s never had a problem being a shadow on the sidelines, and ever since his father’s arrest he’s been walking on eggshells around everything and everyone. Which is why he sat, stock still, and didn’t say a word as Captain Vega quietly murmured how Carlos was stable for now, the words doing nothing to rid the fear still present in TK’s eyes.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off the officer laying on the stretcher before them, and Kegan wasn’t sure he had even blinked. Their hands were tightly linked together, and there was a wet shine in his eyes.

“Come back to me.” He heard him whisper, and his own heart bled with guilt and despair as TK bowed his head, seeing his frame shaking as he clung onto a hand that just wouldn’t squeeze back.  

He should have been the one on the stretcher.

Why didn’t they take him instead?

It wasn’t fair.

.

“I’m sorry.”

The hospital waiting area was mostly empty, and he hadn’t allowed himself a moment to breathe until he heard the doctors give TK and the rest of the 126 who had all arrived one by one to make one big family the all clear. That had been minutes? hours? ago, and Kegan still couldn’t get past the roaring in his ears, the tightness of his chest as they all waited for the officer to wake up.

He was staying overnight for observation, and he faintly remembered being checked over himself in the blurred haze of everything. He couldn’t for the life of him remember who did it, or what questions he was asked, just that he would be walking away with minor bruising and some superficial scratches.

Officer Reyes on the other hand…

He had heard through the grapevine that they had caught the guy, and it was a brief moment of satisfaction that didn’t do much other than give him the relief that he was behind bars instead of behind another wheel of a car.

He looked up for the first time since entering those hospital doors. TK was staring at him with an unreadable expression in his gaze before Kegan could make out the small upward twitch of his lips.

“You’ve done nothing to apologize for,” TK says quietly, wincing a little. “In fact, I’m the one that’s sorry for my attitude back at the scene. I was a little – I was worried.” TK lifted a hand to run through his hair, before giving him a more genuine smile.

Ah, he was starting to see why Officer Reyes always seemed to melt underneath that gaze. The paramedic’s eyes were a couple degrees warmer than they had been earlier, the irises reflecting pools of green in the bright ceiling lights.

“He’s a good cop, and an even better person. He did what he thought was right, and it wasn’t your fault. You were just doing your job. And you were the reason they caught the guy, they found him not long after trying to cross state lines.” Kegan swallowed down the lump in his throat at that, the subtle acknowledgement warming him up inside.

Moving half-way across the globe to escape the scars his father left on their family was one thing, enrolling into the police academy and painstakingly working his ass off to show that he belonged was another. Ever since the arrest, being the son of a notorious serial killer had become his identity. Suddenly, his childhood dreams of becoming an officer of the law meant nothing – all washed down the drain by his father’s blood-soaked hands.

He would never understand why he deserved to live when the people his father killed did not. Years of pondering potential what if’s and self-loathing slowly ate him up inside, and he knew his mother only wanted what was best for him. He didn’t enroll in the police academy to prove anyone a point, to show that their family still had some sort of light worth saving but because he wanted to help. Because he wanted to be better, and he wanted to work for it.

But that didn’t mean the world wasn’t cruel in other ways.

Being labeled as the ‘grim-reaper’ certainly was one, where people assumed that anyone who came into contact with him were automatically doomed to die. It didn’t help that his own father had used it to his advantage, and it was something he would probably never forgive himself for.

And today was just shot to hell with the almost-death of his superior driving him over the edge. He had almost been indirectly responsible for another death of a good man, so when the doctors had given them good news, Kegan almost sobbed in relief. He’s been on the receiving end of looks of anguish, of dismay, of anger and frustration.

Seeing someone look at him with hope and reassurance was new, and hearing words that weren’t laced with malice and false approval made the heavy load of the day lighten a little.

It hadn’t been a good day. And tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed for anyone.

But as Kegan accepted the gentle pat on the shoulder and a friendly smile, he knew that through the dark times, he will find the light.

He wasn’t there yet, and he didn’t know if he would find it at all – but he would try.

And that would have to be enough.

He calls out to TK again, and watches as the man pauses in his steps, turning to look at him curiously.

“So, how long have you two been married?” He asks, a playful grin stretching across his lips, laughing when he sees the paramedic’s cheeks go through the different shades of red in a fascinating colour show. His eyes narrow, but his lips are twitching in amusement, and he waves for Kegan to follow him to Carlos’ recovery room. He’s about to protest, not wanting to intrude, but TK just rolls his eyes and grabs his arm gently to tug him along.

“So, you’re the cheeky new rookie Carlos mentioned,” TK muses, and Kegan raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know I was such a hot topic of conversation,” Kegan responds, not liking how TK’s grin suddenly turns wicked.

“Oh, he told me all about that time you knocked an entire crate of fresh tomatoes onto a perp who tried to escape. The street vendor wasn’t very happy, now was she?” TK winks, and Kegan feels the tables turn, his cheeks lighting on fire at the memory.

No, she certainly was not happy. Getting chased by an elderly woman who spent hours arranging her food stall while holding a broom above her head through the entire marketplace was not something he wanted to re-live. Ever.

“And, to answer your question, we’re not married,” TK continues, his smile turning a touch soft, and Kegan makes a sound of disbelief.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He doesn’t dodge the shove he receives at that, and as they close the rest of the distance to Carlos’ room, Kegan smiles.

He could get used to Austin.

[bandaged-writer]

can u do jouno, yosano, and nikolai hcs with an adorable, sweet s/o who is really horny and gets flustered easily but is really shy about asking for it (Like the other rq you wrote)? I saw those hcs you wrote when browsing the tag and they were really cute and your writing is so good 🥺🥺

Thank you so much, nonnie <3 Tbh, I breathed for writing Jouno and Nikolai’s hcs, so if you have a request including the two, pls drop it!

Warnings: nsfw-ish/suggestive themes, dirty talk

Jouno Saigiku

➤ You can’t hide shit from Jouno. That man’s got heavily enhanced senses of hearing and smell, so he’ll know you’re horny just by the faster beating of your heart or the smell of wetness between your legs.

➤ Jouno is a very composed man unless Tecchou tests his patience and goes on about the day like nothing’s out of the ordinary. He knows you’re more of a shy kind of person and struggle to ask him for things that include the two of you sleeping together, so Jouno waits for your horniness to reach its peak until you can’t help but spit it out.

➤ “Now, was it so hard to admit that you want me?”

➤ Takes some kind of entertainment of you being about to ask him to rail you, but you stumble over your words, blush and tell him to forget that this situation had ever happened. Usually, he’d lose his temper and tell the person to hurry the hell up, but you’re a different story. He keeps you very close to his heart and is somehow much more patient with you; especially because he wants to get you out of your shell.

➤ Jouno will approach you about it if you manage to keep your mouth shut about it and you join him in bed more hesitantly and with your heart basically pounding within your ribcage. You acted like this was the first time the two of you shared a bed, although it clearly wasn’t and Jouno prefers your heart beating in a calm manner when joining him and not in a nearly erratic state.

➤ “So, when were you going to tell me that you’ve been soaking all day?” He’s pretty blunt about it, absolutely no shame whatsoever. You gotta live with it.

➤ “Hah?! T-this must be your i-imagination!” You’d search for excuses and shamefully sink into the blankets until they’d reach the apple of your cheeks. You knew that hiding the fact that you want Jouno in more ways than one was useless, so why the hell did you think you’d be getting out of this smoothly?

➤ “Your heart rate just jumped considerably, [Name]. You’re so easy to read, it’s actually cute.” Jouno would tilt your head upwards and stroke his thumb along your jawline and down your neck to feel your pulse thumping against his skin in anticipation. 

➤ It’d seem like he’s leaning in for a kiss but ends up kissing the corner of your lips, knowing that it’ll cause you to kiss him properly. Jouno knows how to play you and make your patience snap, no matter how shy you are.

➤ Really enjoys the beating of your calming heart once he’s done with you and you’re close to falling asleep on him.

Yosano Akiko

➤ Luckily for you, Yosano isn’t a whole ass Jouno and you’ll be able to brush it off and she’ll believe you. After all, you’re a more reserved person and she trusts you enough to come to her if something is bothering you.

➤ Yosano will notice your typical “I’m horny but can’t confess it” signs when you’re a little bit more jumpy whenever her knee would touch yours or when she’d place her hand on your thigh. Ultimately, it’s your shivering, bitten lips and the heavy blush that is a dead giveaway.

➤ The second biggest tease about her discovery. Her touch would linger a little longer than appropriate and when no one was within hearing range, she’d whisper dirty nothing in your ear and bask in your reaction. Yosano absolutely loves seeing you flustered, especially when it’s at work and not at home where such a thing would be more appropriate.

➤ “[Name], I think we can cut the ice-cream for today. I’d rather have you melt on my tongue once we get home.”

➤ You’d jump in your seat, face red and mouth agape like a fish on land. You couldn’t quite believe your ears and how your body reacted to her words so easily. It was actually a bit unfair how Yosano had you so strung up by saying a couple of words while you couldn’t say such things; it was simply embarrassing.

➤ That would continue for quite some time and you were excited about going home for very obvious reasons, but it turns out that you wouldn’t have to wait that long. Tanizaki asked you to bring some documents to Yosano and of course, you didn’t decline his request.

➤ As soon as you step foot into the infirmary, Yosano locks the door and pushes you up against its hard surface, scolding you for being such a tease yourself. “It’s a shame that I’ll have to ruin your cute facade right here, but you have to stay quiet for me, alright?”

➤ You have a hard time explaining to your colleagues why your hair is a mess and why your legs are basically jello.

Nikolai Gogol

➤ He’s the biggest tease out of the three. Nikolai’s very observant and as soon as he realizes that what you want is him, you’re in for quite the show. Literally.

➤ At first it’s all cute and games. He squishes your red cheeks together and cutely coos at you. “[Name], you’re the cutest for wanting me, you know? Especially when you’re all blushy and shy about it!” 

➤ Nikolai gets straight to business and doesn’t wait for you to voice out your want or teases you with words like Yosano. He immediately leads you into the bedroom and makes you stand in front of the mirror, ordering you to watch closely as his next trick includes you as his “assistant”. You want to question him what he’s about to do, but a magician doesn’t tell anyone anything about their tricks. 

➤ “Today’s big question is: Where is [Name]  the most sensitive today!” 

➤ “Nikolai, what the hell-”

➤ “Hush or you’ll ruin the magic and I’ll have to punish you.”

➤ Super touchy and gropes you everywhere. Nikolai knows your weak spots and will find the one that draws the loudest reaction out of you. His mouth is on your neck, sucking color into the skin and nibbling but then goes “Hm, looks like this might not be it” when it’s only a whimper slipping your lips.

➤ Continues by gradually undressing you in front of the mirror, fondling your breasts, squeezing your waist and letting his fingers graze the skin of your thighs. He lives for chasing you to the edge until you plead for Nikolai to stop fucking around and properly touch you.

➤ Has the time of his life teasing you and watching you drip down your thighs. Not only does he get to see you naked, but he can also practice his speech skills for his next magic trick. 

➤ Bonus because he knows that you get fed up with his constant teasing at some point and boldly tell him to just fuck you into the next week. It’s a stark contrast to your usual shyness and Nikolai adores whenever the bolder you makes an appearance. It honestly excites him.

➤ Whenever you’re too shy to ask for it, Nikolai can fluster you in two ways. It’s either the dumb or hot way and there’s no in-between.

➤ “If you’re not gonna tell me what you want, I can think of a few ways to make you talk and put your mouth to better use.”

➤ “Wanna see how I can make my dick disappear inside you?”