#I’m literally so distraught I should not being think about this right before trying to fall asleep my god

[underfaller]

in his house of mind, dead cipher waits dreaming

Chapter 1: On Your Mind Rating: T Synopsis:

You really think you won that day/You packed your bags and sailed away/You think you left your past behind/But trust me/I'm still on your mind

A year has passed since Weirdmaggedon and the Pines family, victorious in the end, are happier than ever. Stan and Ford are adventuring at sea, making up for lost time. Dipper and Mabel are now freshmen and are ready to take on high school-- geometry, bullies, (student eating?) clubs, and all! However, things take a turn for the worst when Dipper and Mabel receive of horrific message from Ford:

Bill is back.

You wrote a page about me in my own book so allow me to make this tiny addendum over your dull ramblings. 

Stanley Pines,

I've been on your mind. 

Are you surprised to see me? You must be confused so allow me to explain, slowly, in small words: 

If memories could return so easily, why couldn’t I? 

You really thought you won that day, huh? It’s painfully pathetic how naive you are. 

Aw, don’t look so distraught! You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Stanley. You may have lied and cheated to get your way for your whole life, but you can’t elude simple logic-- no matter how desperately you try! 

Still there? Of course you are! There’s not much else for me to say and I’ve got a very busy schedule ahead of me so I suppose I’ll end things here. However, before I leave you to the endless void and your growing insanity, I’ll let you in on a little secret-- Don’t ever say I’m not a generous guy!

Here it is: 

I see myself in you.  And that’s not because I’m literally possessing your worthless skin puppet. You and I are quite similar-- always scheming, constantly caught in our own web of lies, conning the world until we can’t tell what’s real and what’s fake anymore. A spectacular guy like myself should be thrilled at our similarities! I mean, the more “me” in the universe, the better, right? 

We should be getting along better than bleach and ammonia! 

…But I’m not thrilled. Far from it. Am I upset? Upset would be an understatement. No, your dimension’s vernacular can’t even begin to describe my resentment of you. 

I hate you, Stanley. I detest you. I despise you.

I can still see through the eyes of everyone I’ve ever possessed. I’ve seen your past, your present, and your very near end. You’ve spent your whole life screwing up and you will die no differently. You’re a loser. A blight on this already tedious world. A waste of space. You shouldn’t exist. 

So how? 

So how could you have beaten me? How could a lowlife, fat-headed, braindead, absolute failure of an existence possibly beat me? 

…And how do you have everything that I don’t have? 

Your dimension is safe, drifting peacefully in chaotic, infinite chaos while mine has been obliterated, erased from existence as we know it. Even the last atoms of my universe are gone-- decimated by your brother during our little Weirdmageddon spat. 

You’ve done nothing to contribute to your world and yet, when I only wanted them to see the stars, I was met with ultimate destruction. 

How is that fair? 

Your brother adores you. Your brother once adored me too. Has he ever looked upon you with pure, unadulterated hatred? We both ruined his life but only one of us is forgiven.  

And your mother. Your mother still thinks of you. She keeps your photo on her bedside table. She looks at them every night. She misses you. 

My mother is dead. 

How is that fair? 

Now I am you and you are me but why do only you are rewarded. Why is it that I get nothing? What makes you so special? 

I am the only one who sees you for what you are and I hate you. I hate every molecule of your being. I hate everything you have that I don’t. I hate, hate, HATE you, Stanley Pines. 

You don’t deserve what you were given. You aren’t worth even a sliver of it. 

So I’m going to take it all away-- Take what’s rightfully mine. There’s nothing you can do. No more cheap tricks, no more cons, no more last minute plans-- your luck has run out. Your time in the spotlight is over-- Time to show you how a real star performs. 

Better luck next time, bootleg Sixer.

When you awake, you will find yourself in utter, pitch black darkness. You will soon realize that your arms and legs paralyzed, unable to even struggle. You’ll be suspended in a limbo where you are neither awake nor asleep. 

Can you fathom my pain after you erased me? Can you imagine the torture? Your smooth brain would implode on itself if you even tried to grasp it-- And now you will experience it yourself. 

How do you like that, huh? 

HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT? 

You enjoyed your little victory but in the end, it’s me who won. 

Ha! Ha! Ha! 

Goodbye, Stanley Pines, and good riddance. Your pitiful existence will not be missed. 

Don’t worry too much, I’ll take good care of your family. 

It seems like an eternity since we've returned to sea but the Stan-o-War II is back. We left Portland at 21:00 and headed to Point Nemo. My research has led me to believe that the pole of inaccessibility is a magnet for weirdness, much like Gravity Falls-- There may even be ruins of a long lost civilization in its underwater bowels. I would like to test my hypothesis. Stan is fine with our expedition as long as there are “hot Atlantis chicks” to flirt with. I will keep his sentiment in mind. 

We’ve grown closer this year than we have in three decades. It’s… nice to be back with him. 

Despite my excitement for our adventures, I enjoyed our short break in Gravity Falls. It's always a delight when the children come to visit. Everytime I see Mabel, I swear she's grown at least an inch taller. At this rate, she'll be towering over me! Dipper is growing into a bright, young man-- it is impossible for me not to notice our similarities when I was his age. He recently mentioned that he plans to take honors geometry next year. I replied that if he ever needs tutoring then his ol’ Grunkle Ford is more than happy to help. 

It's been almost a full year since Weirdmageddon yet I still occasionally think of Bill. I am prone to anxiety and occasionally find myself irrationally fearing his return. That's impossible, though. I remind myself of that more times than I care to admit. Bill is gone and the moss covered statue in the forest proves it. We erased him. He can't hurt me anymore-- and he certainly cannot hurt my family. 

Stanford closes his journal, before blowing out a flickering candle and standing up, yawning. He looks at his watch. 3:33 AM. Old habits die hard and Ford still finds himself procrastinating on sleep, slightly fearing what will happen when he loses consciousness. He sighs, pushing past memories from his weary mind.. He'll need at least two cups of black coffee tomorrow morning if he has any hope of getting up on time. 

As Ford lays in his rickety cot, the Stan-o-War II shudders and creaks as it rocks against rolling waves. Usually, the familiar sounds of the boat lull Ford to sleep, but tonight, they keep him up, tossing and turning, each noise seeming to echo ten times over. 

It is one of those nights. 

Ford looks up at the ceiling, frowning. He used to have fantastic, imaginative dreams. After Weirdmageddon, however, his resting mind is always empty, dark like the ocean during a new moon. He misses dreaming. 

Though, Ford should be grateful-- there are much worse alternatives to a dreamless sleep. 

In the distance, Ford hears the rumblings of thunder. A summer storm isn't uncommon and it certainly isn't the ship's first experience with unsavory weather but for some reason, Ford feels uneasy. Perhaps he should sleep in the bridge tonight, just in case something goes awry. 

Ford’s thoughts are interrupted when his cabin door creaks open slightly. Ford grins, aware of his twin’s antics. 

“Very funny Stan. Aren’t you a little too old to be afraid of thunderstorms?” 

Familiar, cackling laughter rings across the room. 

“Oh Sixer, I’m not the one scared right now!” 

It can't be. 

Time stops. Stanford violently sits up, scanning the seemingly empty room. 

Click. 

Lightning cracks. Stan is sitting atop his brother, shotgun pressed against Ford's chin. Ford looks up in horror seeing Stan’s eyes bright yellow and glowing in the darkness. 

“Not so fast, unless you want your pretty brains all over the headboard,” Bill teases. He examines the shotgun in his hands. “Can you believe the old guy sleeps with this thing? Talk about a safety hazard!”

Ford freezes, his blood turning to ice. He can hear his heartbeat racing in his ears. His usually rapid firing mind has slowed to a complete standstill in his terror. His mouth is dry as he struggles to speak. 

He must have fallen asleep. He’s sleeping, he’s sleeping, he’s sleeping-

“This is a dream,” Ford stammers. “You’re not real; you’re dead-” 

Stanford Pines does not dream.

Bill howls with laughter. As he does, Stan's mouth contorts into an unnaturally large grin. 

“Oh Sixer! You can’t kill an idea or a god and certainly not both!” Bill replies. He giggles. “Did you miss me?”

Ford tries to answer but Bill cuts him off. 

“Oh, I already know your answer-- of course you missed me!” Bill chatters on. “And now that your inferior twin is outta the way we can head back to Gravity Falls and finish what we started!”

“Why did you come back?” Ford says through grit teeth. “Your henchmen are gone, the rift is sealed-- there’s nothing left for you here, Bill.” 

“Nothing left for me, hahaha!” Bill shakes his head, smirking. “Man, that idiot's stupidity is rubbing off on you! Have you forgotten?” 

Ford doesn’t answer. Bill leans closer, lowering his voice to a drawl. 

“We made a deal, you and I. You’re my partner from now till the end of time.”

Ford looks into his brother’s yellow eyes and is filled with fury. Seeing Bill using his twin like this while having the audacity to expect him to continue their partnership-- it’s laughably, outrageously, enraging. Ford can’t help but give a low chuckle before glaring at the demon. 

“Go fuck yourself, Bill.” 

Lightning flashes once more, illuminating the two adversaries. Bill sighs, clicking his tongue. 

“For some reason, I knew you’d say that.” 

Bill grips the shotgun and shoves the barrel down Ford's throat. Ford’s eyes widen, threatening to pop out of his skull, and he gags, tasting metal and sulfur. Bill grins, obviously amused by Ford’s discomfort. 

“Well, if you’re not going to be of use then you can join the rest of your family in the afterlife.” 

The kids. He’s going to come for the kids. 

Bill pulls the trigger. 

Click. 

Silence.

“Seriously? Who keeps an unloaded gun by their side!” Bill shouts. 

It seems his luck hasn’t completely run out. Now, it’s Ford’s turn to slightly grin. He looks up at Bill.

“Alright, my turn.” 

Sorry Bro. 

Stanford lifts his right leg up and kicks Bill in the balls. Hard. Bill cries out in pain and keels over, clutching between his legs. 

“Goddamnit! Curse human body weaknesses!” He yells.

Ford roughly pushes Bill off him and races out of the room, making a break for the bridge. The storm is much closer than he initially thought, violently rocking the tiny vessel against angry waters. 

I have to warn Dipper and Mabel before it’s too late. 

Ford whips around the corner, jumping into the bridge. He quickly locks the metal latch behind him and barricades the door with a piece of wood lying to the side. That’ll stall Bill just enough. He rips open drawer after drawer until he finds a small handgun. This one is certainly loaded-- Stanford always made sure his weapons were. He hesitates at the thought of potentially wounding his brother. 

Anything to stop Bill. 

Stanford checks the ship’s communication radio, flipping switches and dialing to station 618. 

“Transmitting from S-O-W- 0-2. S-O-W- 0-2. This is Stanford Pines.” 

Before they’d left, Stanford gifted the twins a radio and scanner to communicate with them while they were out at sea. With a few tweaks and some borrowed alien tech, Ford had made sure that its frequency range would reach wherever they were in the world. He imagined it would be used to regale the children of their fantastical adventures. Never would Ford have thought he’d use it for this. 

But even if they were near the radio, the kids are likely fast asleep at this hour. Still, he speaks into the mic. 

“Bill is-” 

There’s a thunderous boom and the ship suddenly lurches to the left. Stanford stumbles, gripping onto the edge of the table to keep himself from falling. The light bulb above him swings violently above him, threatening to fly right off its wire. Stanford steadies himself.

“Bill is back. Do not engage. Do not answer.” Ford hesitates before adding, “We love you two. Please keep safe-” 

Ford is knocked to the ground. His gun skitters across the slippery floor. For a moment, he can only see stars. He groans, his face radiating red hot pain and ears ringing from the blow to the side of his face. Bill holds the empty shotgun like a bat, grinning like a madman. 

“Who were you talking to?” 

Bill looks at the radio, slapping his forehead and cackling. 

“Aww… Don’t tell me you were talking to ol’ Pine Tree and Shooting Star! You’re so impatient-- I’ll get to them soon!” 

“No, don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare-” 

Bill strikes him again with the butt of the shotgun. Ford tries to crawl towards his gun but Bill steps on it, kicking it even further before kicking Ford in the stomach. The air is instantly extinguished from his lungs and Ford gasps in pain. Bill looks down at him in disgust. 

“Shut the fuck up, IQ. You’re in no position to tell me what to do. I’ve given you chances over and over but since you’ve obviously got a death wish, you’re gonna die like a dog just like your brother,” Bill narrows his eyes, pursing his lips. “I used to think you were different, Stanford. Special . But now I see. You’re trash just like every other member of your damned family. You’re pathetic. ” 

Suddenly, Bill starts laughing as he kicks him again. Over and over. 

“C’mon, Fordsy!” Bill spits. “Aren’t you gonna play the hero? Where’s all that fight in you gone? Or are you too scared to hurt me in this body?” 

Bile rises in Ford’s throat as he is repeatedly assaulted. Pain numbs his mind and his body curls up, mind desperately trying not to black out. Bill’s foot strikes his face and Ford hears his nose crack, blood filling his nostrils. 

Then Bill abruptly stops, bored that his attacks aren’t getting a rise from his former partner. He clicks his tongue, standing over Ford, watching him writhe, gasping for air. Bill shrugs. 

“Well, if you’ve already spoiled the surprise, allow me to say a few choice words.” 

The demon bounds for the radio, grabbing the microphone, twirling the cord in his fingers as he speaks. 

“Hey Shooting Star! Hey Pine Tree! This is your Grunkle Stan! I’m about to paint these walls red with my brother’s guts and turn this shitty tin can around back to the mainland! Don’t be too upset though guys! You’ll be joining him VERY soon! OVER!”

Bill rips the microphone from its wires, throwing it across the floor. 

“As I was saying-” 

Ford grabs Bill’s leg and violently pulls him down. Bill yelps in surprise and falls to the ground. The two wrestle, punching, kicking, scratching at each other like mad men, vying for dominance. Ford spies his handgun, dangerously close, and lunges at it, grabbing the weapon. 

The gun goes off. Bill jumps away like a rabid animal before straightening up. He gently touches his cheek, looking at the blood smeared against his fingers. He chuckles.  

“Wow Sixer, real gutsy pointing that thing at me but we all know you love this meat puppet way too much to actually kill me.”

Ford narrows his eyes, once again pointing the gun at Bill. His hands are trembling. 

Stanley wouldn’t want to be used like this. He wouldn’t want to hurt me. He wouldn’t want to hurt the kids. It’s because of that, that I- “You’re wrong Bill,” Ford says, quietly. “It’s because I love him that I will.” 

Bill’s body shudders. He convulses, gagging before he shakes and closes his eyes. When he reopens them, they aren’t yellow. Stanford lowers his gun slightly. 

“Stanley?” 

Stanley stands in front of him, wide-eyed and terrified. 

“Stanford?” 

His body spasms once more. The yellow eyes return and Bill lunches at Stanford. There is one last crack of lightning. 

The gun goes off.

[gakucchis]

how would mephisto's route look like?

so, i already got it all planned out. i was actually very very active in the fandom back in early 2020-mid 2021, where i was drawing and writing headcanons of mephisto when he was still just a mentioned character (see my pinned if you’re interested, thought it’s really old!). i got into it again because of nightbringer, but oh my god, my disappointment when after two years i looked up if mephisto was finally dateable… i’m actually slowly losing hope because nb is already on season 3 but who knows!! :') the devs hinted on reddit that they should be dateable at some point.. ANYWAY

i do have this potential story line, which i’m pretty sure could actually become reality some day, especially because of this post

here it is!!

- obviously, because of his noble status, we'll have to go for the route that could probably only be used for diavolo as well: arranged marriage (i hate this trope)

- two possibilities:

1. mephisto comes to RAD, looking really pale, worried, anxious, just not at all his usual self. after some prodding, he reveals his parents want to set him up for an arranged marriage with another noble demon

or

2. MC and the others catch wind of it themselves, e. g. through the news (obviously not the newspaper) because it’s a huge thing in the noble society

- mephisto, even though having been prepared for this his whole life, seems totally unready, and he’s secretly dreading it — he doesn’t want to talk about it either

- after some closer moments, he reveals that something is holding him back. he knows it’s his duty, he has known this for his whole life, yet something in him is screaming no

- MC can try all they want, but it’s not easy to convince someone to do what their heart tells them to do when they’ve been told they will have to do it one day

- it’s actually pretty weird, since he always wanted a suitable demon to marry one day, and was very picky with who he’d consider having around

- diavolo is just as worried for him, asking MC to keep an eye on him and support him, even if he says he doesn’t want any help

- this could also lead to some tension! like mephisto being even more rude and hostile towards MC, shutting them out of everything

- mephisto doesn’t understand why he’s so irritable, why he’s acting this way at all, he feels guilty for pushing MC away, but he has to

- but why does he feel this way? he was always a bit rude towards them, but now he feels like something else is there, like he’s building a wall up — but why would he need a wall for you when he never cared about you?

- days go on, and there’s no sign of the arranged marriage stopping. everyone is getting more and more worried, even the brothers, but the more MC tries to help, the worse it gets

- there was only one last plan, one that could ruin it all, especially for mephisto; it’s to infiltrate a ball hosted by mephisto's family, because since he can’t be emotionally reached… maybe his parents can be?

- (this would also make for some funny scenes too, because you’d have to sneak in and all lol)

- at some point, as mephisto‘s parents marvel about their son and how he’ll be married soon, one of the brothers (mammon…) will probably trip and direct attention to himself, and mephisto will be outraged to see them, and especially MC

- but before he can say anything, MC will chime in and say how distraught mephisto has been, and how they can feel he doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want to marry someone or even be with someone he doesn’t love, just because it’s his „duty“ he was assigned to doesn’t mean he has to fulfill it for the sake of his status

- mephisto is completely stunned, but he knows you’re right, so he stays silent

- now this can go two routes again:

1. the literal „but daddy i love him!“ way of the parents hating MC, thinking that they’re the cause for mephisto‘s recent development, commanding to throw MC and the brothers out; mephisto could chime in and be honest, though his parents would not approve

2. the slightly comedic and not so overly used choice way: his parents recognize MC (since there are only two humans around, both being powerful sorcerers), being confused at first… before being understanding?? and then even… suggesting that MC is the one mephisto actually loves? mephisto would of course deny it, the brothers would be furious, but the parents are actually gushing about the cuteness of the situation, how MC tries saving her „lover“. it would end with the parents being like „alright! when are you gonna marry them then?“ and mephisto being like „MARRIAGE?“

- obvvvv i like the second way more, the first trope is so so overused. yes, his parents are strict as hell but it would be funny and cute to see them naming reasons why MC would be perfect for mephisto, that they should arrange the marriage soon, etc.

- afterwards mephisto would of course pull MC outside, talking to them honestly and thanking them for saving them even after he pushed them away so much

- this would, of course, also be the moment where he’s actually honest, revealing that the thing that was holding him back and that was making him dread the thought of being in an arranged marriage… was his love for you, which he desperately tried to hide away and didn’t even realize for months

- he'd also apologize for his parents, because now they keep on asking him about MC and how their love is blossoming

- he'd of course end it by saying he knows how many rivals he has, but he’s sure that a noble and handsome demon like him is sure to sweep you off your feet!!

please i love him so much, just give me any route i am sick of collecting memory cards for devilgrams where i can’t even romance him

id love to hear your opinions, corrections, suggestions, love for mephisto <\3, just anything !!

[stealingyourbones]

Prompt:

Sam knew she was conceived before her parents marriage, but she never realized that that meant the father who raised her and her bio father might be different people. It's only now, after her parent's death, that she finds out she's the daughter of Dick Grayson, famed Gotham playboy.

In other news, Sam has, for several years now, been trying to figure out how to punch Nightwing in the face for being the one to dismiss Amity Park as a hoax in the Justice League database, preventing them from receiving help.

Now Dick's daughter that he didn't know he had is trying to murder him with evil magical plants screaming about how he's the reason her best friend had to work himself to the bone to protect their town, and Jason has a new favorite niece.

Oh this has been just hanging in my inbox for ages but hOLY shit this is some brilliant stuff right here. Sam being Dick’s daughter? That could be really fun to work with.

Dick is FLOORED when he finally connects the dots and is told that he has a daughter. He’s slightly distracted by this while Sam berates him.

‘You’re a fucking detective and you didn’t think for a moment to research this town that claimed to experience extradimensional attacks of hostile entities that are supposedly ghosts?! YOU HAVE ALIENS ON YOUR TEAM AND AN UNDEAD BROTHER?! Do you have any idea. Any at all how hard it is to take care of someone who’s so willing to throw it all away for the greater good?”

Nightwing saying that he does know because of Batman and Sam just INSTANTLY cutting him off.

“NO! No you don’t. That was a grown ass man who kept himself stuck in the grief of his parents death that he dresses up as a fucking bat and fights crime. I had to kill my best friend for a second time because I knew that not a single League member would come and help us. I had to watch as a boy who literally could not stop himself from taking action. Do you know how much pressure he was under?“

Ooo definitely also stuff like “you have no idea how many sleepless nights i had where I just called the JL hotline begging for someone to pick up as I cried to the echo of the cheery hold music that was a lie. No one was ever going to pick up but I hoped that someone would answer.”

Dick is distraught. He fucked up big time. He does what he normally does: run away for a tad.

It takes him a long time to wrap his head around having a kid and how badly he fucked up her life. He didn’t even know she existed and somehow he still managed to fuck up her life unintentionally.

EVENTUALLY Sam gets along with her bio dad. It takes a LONG time but eventually Dick genuinely apologizes and tells her that he had no idea that it was that bad and he should have done better. She absolutely sticks to Damian and Jason more before she warms up to Dick. (Mostly cause they’re the edgier and more ‘I’m my own self fuck u all’ batfam members).

Ooo and Ya know how Damian is with animals? Yeah that’s Sam with plants. Dick’s and Jason’s apartment are eventually absolutely FILLED with plants. She helps teach the two how to germinate plants and it becomes a nice bonding activity. (Oh and Jason absolutely brings Sam to the range for Uncle and Niece bonding experiences. Dick doesn’t approve but is happy how gleeful Sam is to learn from Jason.)

[bisexualfemalemess]

BRIDGERTON SEASON 3 PART TWO SPOILERS

Episode 7: I’m only 20 seconds in and i already can not handle the drama 😭😭😭 He followed her because he was worried because the last time she left she was having a panic attack and fainted and now he finds out she’s his worst enemy :(( somebody take that pen away from shonda, there is no need for this much angst :(((

I’m actually gonna scream like i fully can’t handle this, it’s the equivalent to hearing your parents fighting when you’re little and covering your ears :(

As angsty as this scene is i have to commend Luke Netwon’s acting because that tear rolling down his face, colin’s just a sensitive baby boy and it shows. Also kudos to Nicola coughlan’s acting because i can just feel how distraught penelope is over the whole situation.

Not baby boy saying he will never forgive her and then just sulking in bed :( I‘m not sure i‘ll survive this episode.

The fake whistledown is so ooc i‘m glad Penelope shut that shit down fast.

PENELOISE!!!!! It is so important to me that Eloise said she feels stuck between the two of them because that still shows she still genuinely loved penelope and doesn’t just hold some lingering affection from how close they used to be. We’re so back.

THE REASSURANCE AND HEART TO HEART, PENELOPE HOLDING HER HAND. GUYS WE SURVIVED THE GREAT WAR IMMA JUMP OUT A WINDOW, POLIN NEXT!

Damn colin! What happened to hello? How are you? He’s just over her demanding answers from eloise, lmaoooo. Eloise, babe, i love you but were you not the one suggesting that pen just keeps her husband in the dark and drops the lw persona? Don’t back track now. Not them having a bitch-off about who was hurt the most by penelope like guys maybe you should focus your energy on trying to understand her instead of going at each other’s throats. But also Eloise defending pen to colin, they’re truly so back. SHE SAID SHE WANTS TO FORGIVE HER SHE LOVES HER SO BAD MY BESTIES ARE ACTUALLY COMING BACK 😭😭😭😭😭 i actually feel so bad for el, colin and penelope. Like they’re all valid with their feelings and i need them to officially make-up so bad.

That entrapment comment? Like i get that he’s lashing out because he’s upset after finding out that his best friend and love of his life is also his worst enemy but let’s not forget that he was the one chasing the carriage, begging on his knees for a chance, finger-banged her into near-orgasm, and made the first move in the mirror scene because the poor girl was a virgin who didn’t know shit about sex. ARGUMENT NULL AND VOID BABY BOY.

Poor pen :(((((( She loves him y’all. WHAT DO YOU MEAN “let us get through this wedding then we will decide what this marriage will be.”??? Like i hope he comes to terms with whistledown because it’s such an essential part of penelope, they can’t just sweep it under the rug. I love how the mom’s are so concerned about them but they don’t stop to think about maybe, i don’t know, asking them what’s going on? Like they won’t get an answer but at least they would’ve tried. Right now they’re either too wrapped up in the planning or lady danbury’s brother to even try and figure out what’s going on, like, of course you’re not gonna know the reason then. Colin stress-drinking being canon is like the worst thing that could ever happen to me. It’s literally the night before their wedding and shit’s not resolved yet, i’m gonna scream into a pillow.

Aww i hate that penelope’s so understanding about colin’s anger but like i also love that about her because she will admit her mistakes and admit that she’s wrong and that’s so hard to find in a character sometimes. I also love her friendship with Genevieve like she’s the only one that truly understands her.

Lmaoo not penelope stepping onto that platform thingy or step or whatever it was to be taller like baby you’re still just three apples tall. DAMN, Penelope really said, “i am not standing for this slander anymore” and threw his words back at him. Does this fight count as talking things out? Personally i would say yes but 🤷‍♀️

“you should’ve told me to my face.” Like??? Did she not…try? Did she not utter the words marina’s in love with another and you just brushed her off??? Like sir don’t throw that at her when you damn well know she tried to do everything she could’ve before resorting to her gossip column.

The acting is so insanely good oh my god like i get both of them here but i’m a little bit biased and slightly more on pen’s side, whistledown is a good thing, it protects the bridgertons and helps them.(sometimes without them even realizing it.)

I love how penelope just has to drop the l-word and colin pushes her up against a wall, making out with her in the middle of a street. Like are We sure LW is gonna be a problem, colin? At least he made sure she got into the carriage this time.

Not Violet calling in the big guns with Kanthony like they’re so sickeningly in love with each other what marital advice can they give colin??? Kate’s so pretty and her bump is so cute. “You think our marriage is perfect?” “Is it not?” Anthony’s not helping at all lmaooo. Poor woman is truly working overtime trying to get everyone out of their slump while pregnant first el, then gregory, now colin. Just let her rest??? And anthony’s little comments lmaoo he was not having any of it.

Kanthony reminiscing about their wedding??? And you expect me to say they’re not sickening??? SHUT UP NOT YELLOW BEING PLAYED FOR POLINS WEDDING IM ACTUALLY GONNA JUMP OF A BRIDGE THIS IS SO PERFECT. Can we take a moment to appreciate penelope’s wedding gown??? She looks so fucking ethereal oh my god. Like one thing about bridgerton, the women always look ethereal.

I know we haven’t resolved the LW issue yet but colin looks so genuinely in love and happy during the wedding scene. It’s sad to know that will probably not last :( Eloise And prudence both crying of happiness, so true. Aww penelope’s sister being nice to her, she’s so not used to it.

PEN AND ELOISE EYE CONTACT EYE CONTACT EYE CONTACT LIKE YOU GIRLS ARE ALREADY SO BACK.

Not Benedict fucking off from his own brother’s wedding for what??? The threesome or what??

Awww Anthony wants a birth in india 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 he’s such a looser for her. I love kanthony so much 🥺🥺🥺

Portia is actually so??? i don’t know, nurturing??? Like she truly shows she cares for pen.

Also POLIN DANCING TO YOU BELONG WITH ME I REPEAT POLIN DANCING TO YOU BELONG WITH ME. They’re the cutest oh my god. The way the entire room just disappeared and colin was this 🤏 close to throwing all sense out the window and folding, like he would’ve full on made out with her if the queen hadn’t entered. LMAOO NOT PENELOPE LEAVING WHEN THE QUEEN SAID BRIDGERTONS ONLY AND COLIN LITERALLY HAD TO PULL HER BACK???

I’m 100% certain penelope would’ve full on confessed she was whistledown if Francesca hadn’t stepped up with her kilmartin thing. She’s so cute. The queen clocked their tea and anthony seriously was like no you’re wrong.

THAT FUCK ASS WIG I HATE THAT FUCK ASS WIG FOR THE RESHOOTS, I THOUGHT I’D NEVER HAVE TO SEE IT AGAIN 🙄🙄🙄 On another note i love that pen is delivering with her speech here, like yes queen pop off my little feminist. The queen just had to ruin the wedding, did she?

AWW WAR IS SO TRULY OVER WE GOT A SCENE OF ELOISE COMFORTING AND HUGGING PENELOPE AS SHES CRYING INTO HER SHOULDER! PENELOISE BACK SO TRUE SO REAL

WOAH HAPPY PRIDE MONTH TO BENEDICT BRIDGERTON I GUESS. A WIN FOR THE GAYS, BI’S, WHATEVER YOU IDENTIFY AS. ELOISE NEXT!

[bibibbon]

something that constantly pisses me off about lov bashers is that they don’t understand that an explanation is not an excuse.

they can’t wrap their head around the fact that yes toga is a murderer but that doesn’t negate the fact that she was driven to that point by society.

if her parents supported her and helped her with the symptoms and urges caused by her quirk i doubt she would’ve become a villain.

she was literally driven to insanity not because she’s always been that way, but because suppressing her urges for so long caused her to snap.

twice became a villain because he had no other choice. he had no family, no job, and he was just a child. he had no where to go and no one to help him.

it really hits home for me because i have autism and several other mental problems, so some of my behaviors are because of those issues. but whenever i say that people say i’m making excuses when i’m not. i understand that some of my behaviors aren’t okay. that my mental illnesses aren’t my fault, but they are my responsibility.

yes toga should go to jail/juvenile detention because she’s killed several people, but we should acknowledge that the reason she became a murderer is because of how she was treated. BUT that doesn’t mean her being a murderer is okay or justified.

this also relates to how i believe spinner was right about how placating to their oppressors will do nothing.

the civil rights movement wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. they had to *fight* for their rights. key word being fight.

yes peaceful protest are certainly effective but they won’t work 100% of the time. sometimes you just have to get your hands dirty.

for example, sit-ins and peaceful marches were extremely important to the movement. but sometimes you just need to throw a brick at a cop.

stonewall isn’t infamous because it was peaceful. it’s infamous because it showed the world that the lgbtq community wasn’t going to sit idly by and let themselves be brutalized.

but the thing is 100% of spinners ideology won’t work, and 100% of shoji’s ideology won’t work either. there needs to be a balance between the two.

tl;dr some of the mha community is allergic to nuance and it makes me wanna scream.

Tbh I wouldn't label myself a league of villains basher but Iam definitely anti against the lov fans that claim the league are completely innocent and haven't done any crimes whatsoever.

I have said this before and I will say it again all of the leauge of villain members are victims. They are victims!!! But they have also done bad things. They are victims and they are bad people. Two things can coexist at once.

One thing that I find interesting about some league members that I wish was explored more often was the hypocrisy they had. For example take toga who has stated that she doesn't want to go to jail for her crimes and has murdered but also simultaneously gets distraught over twices death. I love toga but that can definitely be described as hypocritical and it's something that I love about her and I wish horikoshi delved into this with the league a whole lot more.

Also one of my problems that I mentioned in another post is that the leauge don't actually have a viable goal. As of current their goal was to simply destroy and create carnage so they can somehow get a better world for themselves. Realistically that plan is incredibly flawed and would obviously backfire horribly so I wish that horikoshi could of made it so that they developed out of that plan and used the MVA to target groups like the HPSC and other parts of the government to prove their point without harming innocent kids and civilians.

Agreed shoji and spinners ideologies are both flawed but if combined there can be a common ground reached. Thinking about this I can't help but also wonder what if shigaraki properly used the MVA and their resources? What if there wasn't an outright war? What if there was more bonding between the villains and their heroes?

@mikeellee used to suggest that shigaraki would try and get izuku on board with the MVA and I can't help but think that's a great idea and would help the narrative while adding more nuance and development to izuku and other characters.

[yasartmeme]

Okay listen I know A Day Of Fallen Night came out in like January and I did buy it then but then life stuff happened but I’m finally sitting down to read it and I’m gonna put all my thoughts here and post it when I finish it

Okay that was just the PROLOGUE? It slaps but also that was like a story of its own

Okay so I’m like a quarter through now and I have thoughts

Kanifa is adorable and Samantha Shannon if you touch one hair on his head you will be hearing from my nonexistent lawyers

Is Wulf actually the child of Kalyba? That would be wild

Also, I genuinely have completely lost track of all the people in Wulf’s storyline apart from his Inys family and Regny I don’t know who the fuck the rest of these people are and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to

The conclusion I’ve come to is that Hroth is fantasy Iceland. Am I wrong?

Y’know I was expecting Dumai’s story to be a whole thing of the Emperor being evil and trying to kill her for being an illegitimate heir or something but my expectations have been subverted and now I love him

Update

Hot damn like half of this book’s side characters just bit the dust in about half a page

Listen I know their deaths were mentioned in Priory and I knew it’d happen but Glorian’s parents dying still hurts

Poor Glorian

Also where is Wulf? Is he dead? Lost at sea? Is he okay? I need him to be okay

Siyu’s run away again

That girl is a Grade A flight risk

I honestly did not see Nikeya as a love interest coming but its clearly heading in that direction and I think its gonna cause all kinds of chaos

Update

KANIFA NOOO Samantha Shannon what did I just say

This is almost as bad as when Kit died, all these poor loyal friends dying for dramatic effect

I love Wulf’s family so much. Mara gives me Meg vibes

Glorian is a badass and her and Wulf are suprisingly cute together

Okay I do not trust Canthe at all, I feel like she’s lying about everything

I’m trying to figure out who she is. I’ve got a running theory that she’s Kalyba (the Lady of the Woods) which I know is kind of insane but hear me out: who else do we know that’s seemingly immortal and ate from the hawthorne tree, who can also shapeshift into whatever form, who has been married and has lost a child? Plus they keep drawing attention to the loveknot ring (which is gold which Wulf said is for royal marriage) and I feel like that can’t be just a coincidence. The only question is why she’d be helping the priory. Maybe she wants to earn their trust so they’ll let her eat from the orange tree? That’s what she wanted from Ead in the first book.

I’m trying so hard to figure this out but I think I’m losing my mind

Aaaand the Emperor is dead

Someone should keep a kill count going on the number of dead leaders/royalty and authority figures in this book, if you took a shot every time like a drinking game you’d be hammered by this point

Or dead

I’ve said it before but I love Wulf, he’s so earnest and sweet and he’s just trying to be friends with everyone

He had every reason to refuse to believe in the priory or be suspicious but he just welcomed them as family with open arms

Y’know I wasn’t that invested in Nikeya and Dumai earlier but they’ve really grown on me, they’re super cute

I WAS RIGHT I WAS RIGHT OH MY GOD I WAS RIGHT MY PREDICTIONS ARE NEVER RIGHT SHE’S THE LADY OF THE WOODS!!!!!

AAAAAAAAHHH

I literally almost threw the book across the room in excitement 

I’ve never felt more alive that was insane

Should I become a detective?

I feel like a genius

Update

God these battles are brutal

SUZUMAI???? SHE’S NINE HOW COULD YOU

I’m distraught

That bit where Wulf is talking to baby Sabran is so cute I might die

Dumai better not be dead, I won’t cope

Okay well I’m interpreting that epilogue that she’s completely fine living her new life on the mountain and Nikeya can go and visit her and everything is fine

In conclusion, this was amazing and also I read about half of this book in the past few days reading as much as possible and now I think I need to like sit and stare at nothing for a bit

Or maybe a nap

[littledead-ridinghood]

It’s late and I was about to roll over and go to sleep but I was just hit with the idea that Jason grew up alone

As in, though growing up in park row and having built a small community for himself, he doesn’t have many things to track his progress of growth. He doesn’t have any pictures or him losing his first tooth or any elementary school art projects to look back on. He doesn’t have any tiny little Knick knacks or like a favorite stuffed animal that he got to keep into adulthood. He’s childhood is filled with so much death and loneliness so quickly that all the people who would have told stories about all of the silly little kid things he did to adult Jason aren’t around to reminisce with him. So once those memories and outlooks on Jason are gone then they’re gone forever

And then later on: after Jason died, Bruce took down all the memories of Jason like he was trying to erase him from their memories. Bruce probably tried to purposely forget memories of them together and destroy photos and other objects of Jason from the ~2.5 yrs Jason lived at the manor because they were too painful to deal with therefore those memory markers are Also Gone

And then finally in the last chunk of his childhood, Jason’s catatonic and then on his world tour still mainly alone. And he’s so mission focused, he’s not building actually “coming of age” memories and social skills for the adult world and all that jazz that would be so crucial to entering the real world as a young adult. He doesn’t have his senior year project or stupid memories with stupid friends doing stupid things. He doesn’t have memories of being able to just being a person because everything has always been about needing to stay alive and survive

Like his favorite memory is Bruce Putting. Off. His. Mission. To stay inside with Jason when he’s sick. Him doing the bare minimum of putting Jason first when he’s ill is Jason’s favorite memory from childhood. And it’s so sad that one act of basic kindness is all Jason latched onto as a child. Because people putting him first was and still is a rarity. And people being nice to him isn’t a thing. So Bruce choosing to stay with Jason when Jason was so ready to think Bruce would just leave for patrol stuck with him because, for once, he was the more important thing

And then he gave up that memory!!!!!

I’m so emotional over the fact that Jason has nothing to look back on to see how he’s grown and changed. Like does he even remember what he looked liked at certain stages of his life??? There’s nothing to show for it. And the possibility that he Could Of had Something to show for his life except that those almost memories were stolen from him and the memories he Could Of had were destroyed

[nitewrighter]

Cindy Part 6

To read previous chapters, please check out my masterpost.

This is the part where I tell you that my initial narrative intentions regarding the queen were a fucked up mutant of “Cinderella should have more positive feminine presences because the Fairy Godmother isn’t in the story very long and evil stepfam creates a very fucked up narrative with regard to femininity!” But that ended up getting mixed up with me just… loving milfs. So like, the thought process here was essentially: “Oh, the queen could be a really kind and positive influence for Cindy!” And “God I love milfs so much. The queen has to be a milf. She can’t not be a milf.”

Also going against the tradition of previous chapters, and for the sake of timeliness and my liver, I wrote significant portions of this chapter sober. But I’m posting it drunk, just so it has the final approval of Drunk Me.

So, keeping that in mind, I give you this next chapter.

—---

The prince is draped across a cushy and appropriate fainting couch, it’s been about… 3 days since all of the glassworkers have been called into the palace and he is distraught. But with this whole, “literally no glassworker in the kingdom has ever seen anything like this slipper before (and at least one was convinced the slipper is cursed)” thing, he’s hit a dead end in the investigation. He also felt guilty about calling the glassworkers here when they all thought they’d be commissioned for something so he hasn’t really dismissed them saying, “I don’t know, make a chandelier or a greenhouse or something.”

Like, I need you to understand the whole “every girl in the kingdom claiming the shoe is hers should try on the shoe” approach was very much a last resort, at least in the Prince’s mind. In fact, news about the shoe hasn’t even left palace grounds yet. Hell, not even the king knows, which has been a very high priority for the Prince. He’s still trying to keep things low-key even though he’s clearly going full Hamlet—wearing fucking all black, sighing dramatically all the time, and pacing very quickly and muttering things under his breath that make the servants give him a wide berth and a wary side-eye in the palace hallways. The servants are muttering about mystery girl, too—since the prince has questioned the staff so thoroughly, and since she made such a strong impression on a handful of them, they can’t exactly help speculating. And Brad, under orders from the prince, has told the staff, “look, don’t bring this up to the king, he’s um… very busy. The prince can handle this.” And then the servants look back at the prince who is currently the saddest, wettest, most pathetic prince they’ve ever seen and they’re like, “…right.”

The king has mildly noticed the Prince’s transformation, but he’s basically under the impression of, “Oh he’s just being dramatic after that ball that he was complaining so much about. I had a goth phase, too. I’ll just give him space until he pulls himself together.”

So it’s business as usual at the palace but it’s business as usual with the weirdest fucking vibes ever and the Prince is draped over the fainting couch like “Brad she’s going to die and it’s going to be all my fault.”

“Or she’s going to get away with state secrets and it’s going to be all my fault,” says Brad. Brad pauses for a second, “Why do you think she’s going to die?”

“I don’t know if she’s alive!” The prince throws his hands up.

“…is this part of that ‘she was actually a ghost’ theory that’s been floating around the servants, because I still think that my neural agent theory is far more—”

Then a servant bursts through the doors of the prince’s quarters.

“Highness!” The servant blurts out, “There’s a pirate at the gates!”

“Pirate?” The prince glances up and he rushes over to the palace window. Indeed, just outside the gates there is a gorgeous-looking pirate with the hat, the coat, the thigh-high boots, everything. But there’s something familiar about her expression. Patient, regal… Wait—Regal? “Mum!” The prince blurts out and races down the stairs, barking orders at servants as he goes with Brad hurrying after him. Several footmen race ahead and open the palace gates and in strides the queen through the garden. She pretty much kicks the palace doors open and calls, “Darling, I’m home!” to the foyer, where there’s several glassworkers gathered around a small temporary worktable. The queen has two massive treasure chests under each arm dripping with gold and jewels with the slightest movement. She tilts her head at them with a slight ‘Hm’ and they all stare at her awkwardly until the prince cries out “Mum!” at the top of the stares, and then there’s a collective ‘Oh shit’ from the glassworkers as they recognize that this person in the sexy pirate outfit does in fact look very much like the portrait right behind them, and they all take a knee with a muttered, “Your majesty” as the queen sweeps into the foyer.

“Hullo, dear,” says the queen looking up at the prince, “I hope you weren’t too worried—”

The prince is stammering as he descends the stairs, “Well, to be honest, I probably should have been more worried—“

“God, just like your father…” the queen says with an eye-roll, “You know I have contingencies—”

“I know,” the prince says awkwardly.

Brad steps forward. “Your majesty, do you need help with—”

“Oh so lovely of you to offer, Brad,” says the queen, more or less shoving one of the treasure chests into his arms,

“I meant—” Brad starts but she stacks the other treasure chest on top of the first, “It’s—my pleasure—your majesty—“ he grunts under the treasure chests.

“I can always count on a strapping gentleman like you,” the queen smiles before whirling to face the prince. “Now, Chaz,” the Queen says, (another important point: only the king can call the prince ‘Chuck’ and only the Queen can call the prince ‘Chaz’,) “Do you care to explain to me why there are five glassworkers in our foyer?”

“I summoned them,” says the prince.

The queen looks mildly impressed because the Prince really doesn’t get out a lot. “Oh! For what?”

“Well.. I… thought they could… design a new chandelier? Or maybe a greenhouse.”

“Oh you know your father loves his chandeliers or greenhouses,” the queen is tossing off her sick pirate coat and a servant is fucking diving to catch it.

“He wanted us to look at a shoe!” One of the glassworkers pipes up.

“That shoe ain’t right…” mutters another glassworker.

“Shoe?” The queen arches an eyebrow, handing her giant feathered pirate hat off to a curtsying maid.

“Mum, you must be exhausted after all those pirates put you through—” the prince takes the queen by the forearm and is very quickly leading her away from the glassworkers and into a parlor, while Brad awkwardly lumbers after them, barely able to see over the stacked treasure chests and turning beet red with the strain.

“Privateers,” the queen holds up a finger.

“What?”

“They’re privateers now. Our privateers. Lovely chaps. Quite fond of musical theater.”

“…right…”

“What’s this about a shoe?”

“Oh you don’t need to worry about that or the glassworkers. Just a… little side project?”

“Mm,” the queen tilts her head at her son.

“But after all you’ve been through—” the prince starts but the queen motions to one of the servants.

“Would you draw me a bath, please?” and the servant nods and runs off. “Chaz,” she says, flopping back onto one of the parlor couches, “I won’t bore you with all the sword fights, homoerotic power struggles, drama, heartbreak, and musical numbers. Mostly, I’m just concerned with what I’ve missed. And I have a strong feeling I’ve missed an awful lot.”

“Well.. Dad…had… this one party…” the prince starts.

“Oh my welcome back party! I knew he had his heart set on it, poor thing… How was it?”

“It was—” The prince nearly says, ‘Terrible at first but then it was most amazing party ever and now it is also the bane of my existence, it’s very complicated and I’m in the middle of something that might be the most important thing in my life—I’m not sure but it feels like it.’ But he catches himself. “It was… um… uneventful.”

“Dearest?”

The queen perks up to see the king in the doorway to the parlor. She pushes herself up from the couch, “Oh Darling!”

And the prince just kind of glances off and twiddles his thumbs awkwardly while his parents throw themselves into a passionate, kiss-littered embrace, sentences barely making it out between kisses like,

“Oh, my love, were the pirates terrible?”

“Privateers, now. And they were perfect gentlemen. But the worst part was being apart from you, darling. Now you simply must tell me about the party you threw! Chaz was just telling me about it.”

“Oh yes, the ball! Every family of fashion in the kingdom was invited, he had a massive line of potential partners.”

The queen gives a steady, cool glance back to the Prince like, ‘That doesn’t sound uneventful, boy,’ before glancing back to the king and smoothing his hair, saying, “Oh darling, you know that’s an awful lot to put on our poor Chaz, he’s sensitive—”

“Well, we’ve talked about this! You know he can’t carry on the way he has. He’s a grown man, now!”

“He’s also in the room,” says the prince, a bit sullenly. Brad is turning purple in the face with strain at this point, still holding the two treasure chests.

“But I suppose it doesn’t matter, because when I was off checking in with the older lords in the smoking room, he just… disappeared from the whole party.”

“Disappeared?” The queen looks at the prince.

“It… all got a bit overwhelming!” said the Prince, brightening up and nervously trying to laugh things off.

“You could have given me some warning, Chuck!” the king blusters, “I was stuck spending the rest of the night convincing furious ladies that their daughters were in fact very pretty and then having to play rapid-fire matchmaker with any eligible bachelors present to make sure the whole thing didn’t fall into—into—wig-snatching, champagne-splashing, anarchy!”

A quiet wincing sound of strain, close in pitch to a kettle whistling, is now escaping Brad, still holding the treasure chests.

“But what does all this have to do with glassworkers and a shoe?” The Queen taps her chin thoughtfully.

“Oh that?” The prince straightens up in his seat, “Just—totally unrelated. Just a side project like I—”

Both treasure chests clatter to the floor with a clatter and a thud and the tinkling and ringing of spilling gold and jewels as the Captain of the Guard blurts out, “The prince slipped off from the party with a mysterious girl who held his attention nearly the entire night, but she fled the party at midnight. But now he can’t remember anything identifiable about her. Nor can any of the staff who interacted with her. Our only clue as to who she is, is the glass slipper she left. Which is why the prince brought in the glassworkers in the hopes of one of them identifying the shoe and telling him who they made it for. But none of them could. So we’re kind of back at square one.” He’s panting, still pink-faced.

And there’s a long pause in the room.

“Brad,” the prince says, “What the fu—”

“You said not to say a word to the king, you didn’t say anything about the queen,” Brad is still trying to catch his breath.

“You were with a girl all night?!” The king cuts in.

“Not all night, she left at midnight!” The prince blurts out.

“That’s basically all night,” mutters Brad.

“What was her name?” asks the queen.

And the prince opens his mouth like, oh he should absolutely have an answer ready for that but he just makes a short, half-squeaking “eh—” sound and new horror washes over his face. “Sheeee.... never said,” he says slowly.

“So… you don’t remember any identifying features, you don’t have a name, and all you have is a shoe?” The queen muses, “Well she must have made a very strong impression.”

“He did call her the love of his life,” Brad offers and the prince shoots him a look like ‘Brad I swear to god if I didn’t know you could kick my ass 6 ways to next Tuesday I would fucking destroy you right now.’

“AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME!?” the King is pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead.

“BECAUSE I KNEW YOU’D BLOW IT UP AND MAKE IT A HUGE DEAL!” the prince throws his hands up.

“IT IS A HUGE DEAL! IT’S THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE!”

The queen loudly clears her throat and both the king and the prince catch themselves.

“Remember your blood pressure, darling,” the Queen gives the king a gentle pat on the head.

“Look,” the prince takes a steadying breath, “Just… the way she took off, she looked really scared.”

“Possibly because she committed a crime,” Brad peppers in.

“Brad,” the prince says in warning.

“Just doing my job, your highness,” Brad mutters.

“So…I do want to find her,” the prince turns back to the King and queen, “I have to find her. But if I do it the wrong way, I—I could mess something up and never find her, do you understand?”

“Chaz,” the queen says, gently touching the side of the prince’s face, “I can’t tell you how much it thrills me that someone would inspire this… this passion in you.”

The prince reddens a little at the word ‘passion.’

“But I have to ask—” the Queen keeps that steady, gentle tone of voice, “You understand that loving someone isn’t the same as wanting to save them, don’t you?”

“I know…” the prince says, glancing down, “But… the way she talks, the way she acts… she doesn’t think twice about helping people. And I swear, Mum, something felt off, like really off. I need to find her. If anything, just to make sure she’s okay. The way she treated me… I don’t think she’d hesitate to do the same if our places were switched.”

One corner of the queen’s mouth quirks affectionately at her son. “Well, if you feel so strongly about it, I’m willing to trust your judgment. However, I won’t have anymore of this—this…” she flails a hand, “’Sneaking around’ nonsense. Asking poor Brad and our dear loyal staff to keep secrets between the family? That’s simply not fair to put on them.”

“Well-put, your majesty,” Brad says, and the prince gives him a ‘yeah you WOULD say that, asshole’ look.

“And you can bet that we’ll do all we can to help you find this girl as well!” says the King.

“That’s… Greeeaaaaaat…” the prince is forcing a smile.

“My Lady?” A maid stands in the doorway and curtsies, “Your bath is ready.”

“Oh perfect timing,” says the queen walking off towards her and rolling her shoulders as the maid briskly walks off. The queen hesitates in the doorway before looking back at the king and prince, “And I don’t want you two arguing about this!”

And the prince and the king are talking over each other as she walks off.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, dearest!”

“Oh, mum, I’d never—”

“Why this is my flesh and blood we’re talking about—”

“Two peas in a pod!”

“Mm-hmm,” The queen walks off and the prince and the king listen to the footsteps of her kickass thigh-high boots down the hallway.

“Okay,” the prince draws in a steadying breath before pressing his knuckles to his forehead, “So now you know. But I am begging you. Begging you. Please don’t make this a huge ridiculous thing.”

“Huge ridiculous thing?” the king huffs, “Why would I make it a huge ridiculous thing? I don’t make things into huge ridiculous things.”

“You literally turned Mom’s ‘could-have-been-canceled-welcome-back-party’ into some giant matchmaking clusterfuck.”

“Where you met the love of your life! You’re welcome, by the way!”

“I--you--that’s--!”

“He has a point,” Brad pipes in.

“Oh—-pick up the damn treasure chests, Brad!” The prince storms off, leaving Brad and the king.

“So dramatic..” The king puts his hands on his hips, “You know, his mother was just as much of a firecracker at his age, too.”

Brad glances at the king and points to the treasure chests. “Er—Can I get another guy on this—?”

“Of course you can get another guy on that,” the king pats his shoulder.

“…you’re going to make it a huge ridiculous thing, aren’t you?” Brad says after a beat.

“Sir Brad, I am your King. I wouldn’t dream of making it a huge ridiculous thing. Oh--by the way--when you’re done with that, find Gabe the Valet and you two go find me all the criers for every town, village, and hamlet in the country.”

[phoenixyfriend]

Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

[spilledkauffie]

Bucky x Pregnant Reader

Just some funny & fluffy HCs (they’re kind of long, sorry!!)

*xFemale!Reader || Part 2 !

He’s super cautious about everything, if you want soup for dinner he makes sure it’s not too hot, if you want ice cream he lets it thaw just a little so it’s not too cold. When you asked him why he was sticking a thermometer in your coffee he simple said, “too much heat isn’t good for the baby, it could burn it,” as he stared at the meter, “uh-huh, and you do know we’re not in the 1940s anymore, right? We have a much better understanding of mom-baby connections,” you tilted your head, “Look I’m just being cautious, for you, okay?” It’s old fashioned, but it’s sweet.

He nearly has a heart attack when he sees you on a ladder, a step, the counter, or anything with heights. He will literally man handle you, grabbing you carefully by the waist or under your arms (yes, like a child in trouble) to bring you down from where you were, even if it isn’t actually that high. “It wasn’t even that high, babe,” you sigh, waiting for him to get your chips off the top of the fridge, “it’s not like I was climbing Mount Everest.” / “Close enough,” he shake his head at you with a sassy tone, still distraught over you just heaving yourself up onto the countertop.

Sam is always over! Though he doesn’t have kids, he has nephews he’s close with and thus has had some experience with babies and children. Often Bucky just rolls his eyes when Sam’s giving advice, but Sam comes back with “Oh, I’m sorry, who should she believe, a 106 year old who took vintage sex ed in 1900, or someone who was at the hospital with his sister, like eight years ago?” you had to laugh at the comment, but Bucky just ducked his head, “it was 1939…” / Sam is actually a big help for you, he said he’d try to get his sister up to visit with you and talk baby stuff next time the boys are on a mission so you’re not alone.

Sleeping, Bucky’s made it a habit of always going to sleep with his hand somewhere on your stomach, it’s mainly a protective thing, since before the baby he just had to have an arm around you, holding you. But now it has to be skin on skin contact, which means you’ll feel him slowly and softly slip his hand under your shirt when he comes to bed later than you. You’ve come to love it, often placing your hand on top of his.

↳ “lazy days” have become much more of a thing as you entered your third trimester, some days you just don’t want to get out of bed, and Bucky is completely fine with that, he’ll cook, he’ll bring you whatever you want, he’ll lie in bed with you.

You’ve gotten really concerned about the pregnancy and being a mom on a few occasions. Usually this results in some bouts of depression. In times like those, Bucky makes sure he is there physically and mentally for you. If you don’t want to talk about you, he lets you snuggle up as close and as tightly to him as you want. He understand silent suffering and how much just a physical person being there means. When you do want to talk about it, he’s always there and ready to listen.

One minor wince or groan or mumble from you and he’s on it with the “what’s wrong?” / “what is it?” / “how can I help? Is the baby coming?!” He’s mildly paranoid that he’s going to miss something vital or important if he isn’t 100% paying attention to every detail. This is why no you’ve never teased him about anything regarding the baby, because he’s so concerned and invested that it might just give him a heart attack… He is 106.

He was beyond panicked when you called him over, desperately reaching a hand out for him as he sat down next to you. Taking his hand, you press it to your side, and tell him to wait. Super confused if this is a good or bad moment he waits with an anxious look until- “did you feel that?” you smiled up at him; his jaw drops and spreads into a smile as he shifts closer to you in awe silence you both feel another kick, “wh- how did you do that?” he asks, stroking his free hand through your hair, as he bites the corner of his lip. Finding it precious you’re nearly crying from the happiness when he kisses your forehead.

He’s that guy that gets a book on “pregnancy for dummies,” so he can attempt to better understand what you’re going through that he can’t necessarily see. Needless to say part of the book horrified him, “oh my g- do you know what’s happening inside you?!” You just shake your head finding 10/10 entertainment in just watching his face whilst he reads it. The actual “how birth happens” chapter might’ve been one of the best.

He’s actually a little scared, or worried, about touching your baby bump (with a certain hand). You’ve told him you don’t mind that it’s cold, but he’s still avoidant. When asking him why, he didn’t want to say because he thought you might laugh, promising you wouldn’t he confessed, “what if the vibranium… magnetises the baby?” You managed to keep a straight face for approximately two seconds before breaking into laughter.

Your random (and very intense) moods are the biggest handful for him. He’s trying his very best to know what to do, but he never wants to make you feel like it’s not normal to feel a certain way.

↳ The Crying: one time he was telling you about this past mission he was on. It was like casual conversation for him to talk to you about it, but when he got to the part of “so they had these big dogs-” he looked over at you to find you in absolute tears, he stopped in his tracks, biting in his bottom lip as you stared at him, “and? then what?” you asked, voice breaking, he shook his head slowly, keeping eye contact, attempting to think of something, “then-” / “then you became best friends with the dogs and they were on your side in the fight?” he nodded dramatically to you response “yes, that’s exactly what- what happened… yep, nothing more to that story.” 

↳ constant State of Annoyed: at times you’re just purely annoyed for no reason, typically more passive aggressively, but sometimes you’re just straight up honest about it. When he tells you good morning and reminds you how beautiful and glowing you are, you’ve said “I love you, but your voice sounds like a duck today,” or “I am not glowing, be honest, I look and feel like a blimp.” He still tries his best to compliment you, other times he just hides for the day. Until you become super needy at night.

↳ MamaBear Instinct already kicking in: you’ve become extra protective / defensive. One time you were at the store, around one A.M. (because cravings!) and you were picking out cereals together. Bucky was surprised to see some brands he knew still around: “wow, Chex?” he picked up a box, “I didn’t know they were still making these-“ he trialed off about the cereal, but you noticed some kids snickering a few feet down the aisle. “Then again, the last time I had these they tasted like cardboard,” Bucky winced, “probably cause they were made out of it back then-“ / the kids laughed again, despite the soft Hello Kitty pj pants you had on, you were far from soft. “HEY!” You called out, “are you laughing at him?!” Bucky turned to see who you were talking to, but before he had time to address them himself, he was reaching to stop you from lunging over the cart at them, “I will fucking fight you if you are!” / “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Bucky completely stepped to block you, lifting his hands to meet yours gently, but you just tried to push them out of the way still flustered.

[shotorozu]

hello!! i saw that your requests were open and wanted to ask if you could do single dad! atsumu suna and sakusa falling in love with reader, like it's sort of a meet cute (or not) but the reader falls for them and the kid and happiness lskfjsdfk have a great day!!

single dad! falling for reader

character(s) : miya atsumu, suna rintarou, sakusa kiyoomi (haikyuu!!)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, timeskip au! (because,, single dads.)

headcanon type : fluff, crack and angst if you squint (x reader)

warning(s) : mentions of the character’s ex wives, the ex-wives being jerks for multiple different reasons and ways (so,, be warned. for negligence, not very detailed hitting, and cheating, but not on reader)

note(s) : me, writing for haikyuu?? wow, a surprise! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for haikyuu so if i don’t get the characterization correctly— ESPECIALLY FOR SAKUSA, i’m sorry in advance.

»»————-　♡　————-««

miya atsumu

at first, his marriage was happy. miya atsumu— successful in his 20s, basically set for life, and with a head strong wife that gave him a wonderful daughter

he was elated when his son, genji came into this world. he wouldn’t swap him out for anyone else. and it was all good, really

until he started spotting marks on genji’s delicate skin, and he even found a large bruise on his shoulder when he was changing his shirt! he almost passed away seeing that

genji would also have a sudden fear of being alone in the house— even when his mother would stay behind to take care of him

but why though? genji’s only 4! what could’ve happened to him? he doesn’t recall hiring any babysitters.

he finally found the answer one day, when he found out that his head strong, intense wife— has been physical with him!

basically, all the love for his wife flew out the window, and he filed for a divorce— and of course, he won custody

and he assumed that his love life would stop at that— and it didn’t sound terrible. all that mattered was that his son was safe, and happy again

but this is where you come in

you work at a toy store, a small business toy store really, that sold the highest of quality only

and atsumu took genji to either replace, or fix the toy he broke a few days back. the place was recommended to him by shoyo— who also had a kid of his own

you’re just two years younger than him, eyes full of determination and care, practically the complete opposite of his ex-wife.

you put up a good conversation with him, while you fixed the toy— the two of you talking about the mutual friends, and that ‘this place should be a lot more popular.’

and also, his son did happen to take a liking to you. he seemed joyous in your presence— compared to how he was with his ex-wife

and from that moment on, the two of you would only become closer— especially when a bunch of his son’s toys started breaking magically

before atsumu knew it, he harbored something for you— the absolute angel you were to the both of them

“‘m sorry for the inconvenience,” the faux blond scratches the back of his next “didn’t know genji here was a ‘lil clumsy weasel,”

you laugh, and genji’s just staring at you with amusement, “it’s fine, genji could break his entire toy box— and i’d still fix it anyway.”

so this was the nerve wracking part, “to make up for it, would you like some coffee later? i could treat ‘ya.”

“is this yer way of askin’ Y/N—”

“shut yer mouth for a sec— uhm,” he looks at you, sheepishly

you laugh, “miya, i wouldn’t mind honestly. but i’d assume you’re busy as it is.”

“not at all!” atsumu replies, “i’ll just, drop off genji first. say yer thanks to Y/N,” atsumu looks at genji, encouraging him to say his thanks

“,,thanks for fixing my toys, Y/N.”

“no problem, genji.” you smile at the two of them when they move to leave the store, fixed toys in hand— as they wave at you before parting

“oh, Y/N?” atsumu calls out,

“yeah?”

“call me atsumu— from now on.” his cheeks are tinted pink, and he can feel genji’s eyes on him.

“oh, uhm. yeah! i’ll see you later, atsumu.”

so yeah— the two of you went out for some coffee, and before he even knew it, he was in love.

it might take him a few months to realize it though

suna rintarou

i can’t imagine him having kids for some reason 💀 but if he were to have any, he’d definitely have a daughter

rintarou himself, didn’t think he would have kids at at all, really. but the moment he was able to meet asuka— his lovely little daughter

he was hooked. he seemed a little awkward at first, not very used to caring for a child. but he was actually decent at his job

he’d sneak into his daughter’s room to hold her when she was upset— even when his wife was too knocked out to realize it, and he’d show her picture books

since she liked them a lot, even when she can’t coherently read a straight paragraph yet.

it started to concern him when he realized how little his wife was involved in the development of their daughter.

she started acting different, a little bit after she didn’t have to breastfeed asuka

and then, that’s when it happened.

“i literally can’t believe you,” he speaks when he’s packing his things, “we have a child together.”

his soon to be ex wife is on the floor, begging him to stay— but he doesn’t care. “look, the idea of you cheating wasn’t very surprising. i don’t care anymore, really. but the fact that you’ve been neglecting asuka for your selfish needs is low. i hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”

his words are so much different that his lenient, calm self. which only solidifies reality

so he leaves with asuka, not caring about the sobs that left his soon to be ex wife’s mouth.

and even though he was still angry at his wife for not being there, he’d never let it show to asuka

he’d still show her picture books, he’d still sit down and watch miraculous ladybug with her— even when she doesn’t understand it all completely

and speaking of picture books— he decided that he needed to buy more for her

so he took her to the bookstore, and he didn’t really know what he was doing. he bought all those previous books when asuka was still a newborn

now it’s a little fuzzy on what he should be looking for. colors, right? he needs a picture book that has plenty of colors.

and that’s where you come in. you’re youthful, despite looking not that far off his age, you’re humming to yourself as you fix the bookshelves

“uhm,” he calls out for your help, and you look at him in recognition “need any help? what are you looking for?”

there’s a helpful glint in your eyes, and it reminded him of what should’ve been in his ex wife’s eyes. “my daughter, likes picture books. and,, i don’t know what i’m doing.”

she’s basically a replica of him, same eye color, and same hair color. but her eyes are much more rounded, youthful.

“cute kid,” you smile when she coos at you, “the children books are this way, follow me!” you exclaim, moving to navigate your way to the children’s book isle

so it seems to be that you really know what you’re doing. most people would’ve recommended picture books with a lot of words, or just no words at all

but you’ve found the books that made asuka exclaim in happiness.

and although it’s not very obvious that rintarou’s caring to his child— he is, and you could tell. despite looking lost, and sometimes bored when you’re explaining the books.

so every 2 weeks, the father would return with his daughter, after he got back from volleyball— and you’d help them pick out on certain books.

rintarou assumed he’d never take a liking in anyone again, but,, here he is. and he doesn’t know how you’ll react to that.

but it’s worth a try— he’d try and get your number when he’d see you again

the next time you see him, the middle blocker’s alone. and he tells you that he needs more picture books for asuka, since she’s staying over at his volleyball friend’s house for a day

“Y/N,”

“yes?” you turn your head, meeting his stare. he looks well,, himself. like how he first sought out for your help a few weeks back

“,, could i get your number? y’know, just in case asuka wanted worded books in the future. you’ve helped a lot, so,,”

you smile, “is this your way of hitting on me?”

he didn’t think it was that obvious, “what?— i mean,” he fumbles to reason out, feeling a bit more awkward. because yes, he’s asking you out but,, he has the power to make things more laxed, y’know?

truthfully, you don’t know much about him. you know a lot about his daughter, sure! but you don’t know anything about her biological mother, or what happened, or why she’s not taking asuka to the bookstore

but you chose not to ask, out of respect. he’d tell you some other day. “i’m just teasing,” you smile, moving to get a small piece of paper— writing your digits on the paper, and placing it in his pocket

“i’d like to see you again,” you smile, “say hi to asuka for me.”

the middle blocker left the store in content, absolutely sure that asuka would love to see you again even when she can’t form proper sentences.

sakusa kiyoomi

didn’t think he’d be fit to be a father— but here he is

though he seems cold, he does take responsibility, and he does love and care for his child, seina

it’s not like he’ll be posting pictures of his child everywhere— i mean, even if he had a different personality, he still wouldn’t be posting his kid everywhere

but he does cherish seina, like his life depended on it. he’d still silently watch her cross out word puzzles in a messy matter, he’d silently listen to her talk about her favorite pastries

he loves her!

so that’s why it made him mad, when even after 4 years of seina being born, her mother made little to no effort in spending time with her

doesn’t matter if it was a simple gesture like tucking her in, or showing up to a birthday— she just,, never did.

it was almost as if she was ignoring seina, which causes some distraught on the child’s behalf— which passed on the negative feeling to him

like,, seina wasn’t an unbearable kid. sure, she acted up here and there, that’s an issue kiyoomi has been trying to fix on his own

but it was nothing too concerning, and it was containable. but his wife treated her like she was absolutely unbearable

and it was super strange because, she’d act normal around him, but would barely acknowledge her own daughter’s existence

so what did kiyoomi do? he confronted her, of course.

and no— his wife wasn’t cheating, and nothing tragic happened that would’ve caused her to be this way

she was just,, lazy

“so.. you gave birth and stopped caring for her? is that it?” furious was an understatement, considering that his wife forgot to make her daughter breakfast

which caused her to sneak out of the house, and ask for some breakfast from some nice neighbors.

“look, if you want nothing to do with her, just say that. i’m taking seina, and leaving.” so yeah now he’s a single father.

to say he didn’t love her was too quick, a part of him didn’t love the fact that his wife loved him, but didn’t show any sign of affection towards her daughter.

he knew it was going to fade away anyway. his feelings for his unofficial ex wife.

and i don’t think he’d plan on seeing new people, since now these days— people just like the idea of being with him

which meant that most people would’ve been scared away, or turned off if they really sat down in a conversation with him

besides the point, kiyoomi was taking his daughter to the bakery again— as she was craving new pastries, and wanted to go to the new bakery that just opened near by

and kiyoomi was like “why not ig” and took her there— but then, this is where he’d meet you for the first time

you were one of the bakers, and it’s not like he was going to pay attention to you— until you did something even HE couldn’t do

“papa, whyyyy” the whining sounding painful in his ears, as his daughter clung to the display of pastries “can’t we get moreeee??”

“seina,” he sighs, “no, we can’t.”

“but—”

“papa, you’re no fair!” her bottom lip trembles, and he could almost FEEL the judgmental stares of the other customers in the bakery

and this is where you come in, “is something the matter?”

“papa won’t.. get me more!” she stares at the selection of pastries, “i’ve been so nice but.. it’s no fair!” her eyes tear up

“don’t cry,” you bend down to blot her tears away with a tissue, “y’know, he probably has a reason, but you’re in luck— actually!” you maneuver behind the counter

you come out from behind, presenting a fresh batch of pastries— that were just right to his daughter’s liking, to the point that it shut her up entirely

“they’re on the house, today’s our opening day, so it’s the bakery’s treat!”you state in a warming matter, grabbing a paper bag to place the pastries in

kiyoomi stares at you, observing you quietly— you could feel his cold stare, even though he’s wearing a medical face mask, that covers about half of his face

you blink, not knowing what is going through his head, and you gesture to his daughter to take them

you clearly don’t know who he is— and that gives kiyoomi some sort of relief, compared to the other customers that are murmuring to each other “sakusa kiyoomi’s here with his daughter! is this what he does in his free time?”

kiyoomi takes the paper bag, giving some sort of non verbal acknowledgement, before he takes his daughter’s hand and leaves

“bye, kind person!” seina calls out to you, which catches you off guard— this causes your coworkers to coo at the girl’s words

“didn’t know sakusa’s daughter was so cute!”

and you’d assume that your interactions with the quiet stranger and his daughter would end at that, but no! life is full of surprises.

the tall masked father comes in again, a little bit before closing time— you were absolutely beat, your back feeling as if boulders were glued to the back, and your feet burning from all of the rush

“oh, what could i do for you?”

he stays quiet, but a small presence sticks behind him, and peers up to you. the face is familiar to you, so you wave “hi there! it’s nice to see you again.”

“i wanna say thanks.” her rounded eyes practically shimmer when they lay themselves on the pastries again, but she shakes her head “for the pastries! they’re very tasty.”

“i’m glad you like them, what was your favorite part of the pastry?”

“the filling! twas yummy!” she gives a toothy grin, “tell me, where ‘dya learn to bake like that?”

kiyoomi stares at the scene unfolding before him. it was.. new. unfamiliar— he hasn’t seen his daughter act like this with anyone else— besides him and his team mates. so, he simply watched.

seina babbled and babbled, much to the your amusement— and the other staff members. you listened to her with your full attention, your interest never wavering in the slightest

it’s a bit later, kiyoomi holds a tired seina in his arms— you expect him to leave the bakery, his daughter’s wishes been fulfilled, and he wouldn’t have a reason to stick around

but then he presents to you a large stack of cash “for the pastries. my,, daughter really liked them.”

your eyes widen, “sir! i told you, the pastries were on the house!” you shake your head, “either way, i can’t take this! it’s too much for some pastries!”

“no, seina insists. in fact, she’s entirely why i’m here.” his tone stays consistent, but even with the mask— you could tell that he’s smiling. “she’s well,, everything. if she’s set on something, then she’ll do everything to achieve her goal.”

you smile at the statement, “thanks for bringing her here sir..?”

kiyoomi hesitates to tell you his name for a moment, an unfamiliar, yet familiar pound in his chest rises— he chooses to not figure it out right now, considering that it would be too soon to pursue a romantic relationship.

but, if his daughter brought him here, then it must be for a reason. “kiyoomi.”

“right,” you smile, “thanks for coming here, kiyoomi. you can give me a call, if seina wants any more pastries.” you write your number on a piece of paper, and hand it to him

he doesn’t reply, but he does take the piece of paper anyway— keeping it in his pocket

and for once, he thinks that he doesn’t hate having to go to the bakery weekly., because there’ll be a warm presence there to greet him— and of course, seina.

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own hq!! and it’s characters. haikyuu!! belongs to furudate haruichi, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission :))

[leigh-rambles]

silverstone ii

pairing: billy russo x f1 driver!reader

summary: in which journalists are being shitty and billy rescues you.

warning/s: some swearing, sexism + unrealistic reactions to hypothetical stalkers

shut up and drive masterlist

-

Even after a pit stop mix up that your team principal assured wasn’t your fault, you got P3.

You’d proudly stood on the podium with Max and Lewis. Yeah, it was your home race and you could’ve done better, but seeing as you managed to overtake at least three drivers after the fuck up you figured you earned it.

The more traditional fans would probably use this as an opportunity to drag you down online again. After seven years you’d think you can finally let the little comments wash over you, but they still made you feel like you’re eighteen years old and undeserving of your spot in their little boys’ club.

The interviews were even worse, because they did it right in front of your face.

“Did your boobs get in the way of steering?”

“Was your time of the month a factor in your mishap in today’s race?”

“We’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with Leclerc for the past couple of months now but not yesterday. Trouble in paradise? Lovers’ quarrel?”

Taking a deep breath, you counted to ten in your head. “No. No. Of course we spend time together; we’re bloody teammates. As for the race, in case you were wondering, I was definitely a bit careless today and I never expected to still get P3. I’m just glad my points weren’t affected and I’ll be trying my best to keep them that way.”

Your voice cracked on the last word and you cringed. Fuck, now they’re gonna push the whole ‘women are too sensitive for racing’ narrative they tried when I was twenty. But right now you couldn’t care less. You’ve been sitting in your own sweat for two hours now.

Seeing as you’re helping Ferrari get closer to their first win in years, you’d think they’d ask you about literally anything about actual racing. Every question and comment they made were specifically targeted so you’d know they don’t and will never take you seriously.

Racing was the centre of the life you’d made for yourself but the fact that these journalists just saw you a little girl whose billionaire daddy’s money bought her a seat on the table? The thought brought tears to your eyes. No, you scolded yourself. Not here, not now.

You stormed out, ignoring the calls of your media manager.

Fine be damned you weren’t gonna stay there any minute longer.

-

London was too cloudy, Billy thought.

After a successful meeting with some stuffy old British men who wanted to invest in Anvil, he decided to take to the streets and explore the city a bit. He went to ask Frank if he wanted to come but was greeted with a pillow to the face when he walked in his hotel room, along with a groan to “let me fucking sleep, Russo”.

“Shit, sorry!” A bundle of nerves in red bumped into him, but he grabbed them before they ended up on the road. “That was close. You need to be more careful.”

Billy finally looked down at the person and his eyes widened. No fucking way. Same flowy hair that framed a now tear-stained face, same bright eyes now slightly puffy. However instead of a tight dress and heels, you’re now in a red polo and jeans. “You’re the Ferrari girl,” he said stupidly. 

You cocked an eyebrow in amusement, apparently forgetting your distraught looking state. “That’s a new one. Not very creative though.”

“No, no what I meant was — in the bar? In New York? You drove a white Ferrari and hung out with two other girls?”

Pausing, you bit your lip in thought. God he’d thought about your lips since that night in New York. You’d dragged your friends out to an Uber and drove away shortly after acknowledging him and he’s still beating himself over the fact that he waited too damn long to talk to you.

“That was two months ago. You’re stalking me because I winked at you?” Billy scoffed at that. If anything he should be the one asking that. He wondered who you could be working for. Definitely not someone too important if you managed to accidentally make contact with him in two different cities.

Hold on.

You remembered him, too?

He was about to say something when your phone buzzed and you immediately answered. “Charles? Just a drive to clear my head. Of course I’d be there, that’s just silly. Mhm.” 

You shut your phone off and sighed. “Boyfriend?” Billy asked, trying not to let the bitterness show. You were absolutely beautiful, of course you’d have someone. “Partner.”

Billy gave a tense smile.

You looked up to him, confused through your eyelashes, and it took him every ounce of self control not to kiss you right there and then in the London drizzle.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

ruined, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Why is there a mostly shirtless man in your bedroom and why is it Kim Namjoon's, your roommate's, fault? All you want to do is play League of Legends, not be visually attacked by ridiculously attractive Jeon Jungkook as his six friends perform living room karaoke at the top of their very drunk lungs.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; classic Namjoon ripping clothes; you don't have to know how to play LoL, I explain most of it; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, begging, scratching / marking, nipple play, edging / orgasm denial, handjob, (unintentional?) voyeurism, little bit of cum-eating, choking, cowgirl, cock warming); non-idol!BTS – purple-haired, kind-of-a-brat, sub!Jungkook x gamer, noona, dom!reader, ft OT6 being chaotic in the background XD

@yn-the-reader linked me in this and I was already writing about him. a prophet, maybe? XD

--

“WHY ARE YOU SHIRTLESS?”

You died.

Not literally, but also literally.

“Fuck!”

Now you had thirty-seven seconds of gray screen to figure out why the fuck Jeon Jungkook had busted into your bedroom on this cheerful night with his black dress shirt three-quarters of the way unbuttoned, revealing most of his – oh, sweet Satan, very muscular – pecs and the upper half of his abs. He was holding something in his hands, looking helpless and sad, while you were panic buying Liandry's Anguish and experiencing a special form of anguish yourself.

“Noona, um–”

That’s right, because you were in the middle of a League of Legends game, playing Cassiopeia, the Serpent’s Embrace, also known as half-snake lady or the lamia of the champion roster or a mean version of Monster Musume’s Miia (if you know, you know, and if you don’t, be glad you don’t). Your roommate was having friends over after going drinking. All this was fine and dandy with you, because you were going to spend all night wearing headphones and playing League of Legends, therefore ignoring the outside world, until the outside world came to bother you in the form of Kim Namjoon’s – your roommate’s – mostly shirtless friend Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t mostly shirtless most of the time, only right now.

“Noona, Namjoon-hyung ripped my shirt…” Jungkook whimpered hesitantly, chewing on his lip. He looked awkward and distraught despite his long dark purple hair giving him a rather fierce, bad-boy look.

Namjoon was a great roommate. He was smart, conversational, and insightful. A chat with him usually led to an enriching, open-minded perspective. He was relatively clean, considerate, communicative, nonjudgmental, fun to be around, and only set the kitchen on fire twice.

The second time was your fault.

You shouldn’t have let Namjoon in the kitchen the second time.

Also, Namjoon with his friends was a wildly chaotic time. All of his friends, especially drunk, were fucking nuts. Normally, they were probably relatively calm people (maybe not Kim Seokjin or Jung Hoseok, they were very excitable), but together they were a mess. You often wondered how they could function as a group.

Currently, however, you were trying to collect your brain cells as you had mere seconds before respawning onto the platform and were forced to play again. Timing in League of Legends was very important. Seconds can mess up wave management of minions and wave mismanagement can lead to game losses if you weren’t careful. The nuances of the game were often ignored by casual players.

You were, in short, a nerd about it.

“Fucking s-shit, what h-happened?” you sputtered out, turning back to your screen, unable to look at mostly shirtless Jungkook because he was MOSTLY SHIRTLESS. Honestly, he had quite nice pecs, and you should not be thinking about that, but it was incredibly distracting, just like how it used to be distracting when Namjoon was shirtless, but several years of living with him made you accustomed to his impressive pectoral muscles, to the point where you could joke about them with him.

But this was not Namjoon – this was his younger friend Jungkook and you had no idea Jungkook was ripped, mostly because you didn’t pay attention to Namjoon’s friends.

There were too many of them and you were too introverted for that.

“I don’t know, he just grabbed my shirt and it ripped and I managed to find all the buttons, but, but…”

Cassiopeia respawned on the platform and you couldn’t ignore the snake lady any longer. You had to play the game because four random people on your team were counting on you and you couldn’t exactly type, sorry, there’s a hot man in my room with his shirt practically off and I don’t know what to do with my life, so you had to suck it up and play the damn game.

Right-clicking and keeping your eyes only on your computer monitor.

Half-listening to that trembling, silvery voice coming up behind you, making your hairs stand on end even though all he was doing was dumping the tiny buttons on your desk.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself.

“Can you repair it? Please? My mom bought me this shirt and Namjoon-hyung said you can sew, so maybe you can sew them back on? Please?”

“Yes, Jungkook, I can, just not right now, I’m in the middle of a game,” you rambled, suddenly trading damage with the enemy Viktor, trying to avoid the laser from the Machine Herald, swearing under your breath as you stutter-stepped and stunned him, poisoning him quickly enough with your abilities to avoid dying. “I will help you, I just – fucking shit, get the fuck away from me Udyr, fuck!”

“Wow, you curse a lot, noona. It’s kind of funny.”

“I – fuck– I mean, sometimes, and what are you guys doing out there? It sounds like a deranged cabaret club,” you remarked, ticking your head towards the direction of your bedroom door.

“Karaoke!” Jungkook replied brightly, still standing behind you, why was he standing behind you, it was freaking you out a little, but Ocean Dragon was being taken and a team fight was about to happen, so you had to ignore it and support your teammates in chasing down the enemy support.

Seokjin hit a high note that was so shrill that you heard it through your headphones.

“… Wow, he’s got some lungs on him.”

“Do you wanna join us, noona?”

“I can’t sing.”

“Neither can we.”

“Pretty sure all of you can sing better than I can, even Yoongi and Namjoon. I’m fucking terrible.”

“I’m not that good.”

You barely survived with thirty hit points after that debacle of a team fight, but your team had the dragon and you all were slowly on your way to victory. You pressed the ‘B’ key to return to base, but kept your eyes on the screen, lest Udyr, the Spirit Walker and serial bear stun-slapping enemy jungler, ran your ass down and killed you.

“Jungkook, your voice is absolutely heavenly. Fucking beautiful. I’m sure every human being on Earth would want to be serenaded by you.”

Silence that you didn’t notice was awkward for him because you were too busy letting out a sigh of relief and building your next item, typing quickly to your teammates. You all were about to set up for vision around Baron Nashor, a large purple worm-dragon monster that when killed provided a significant, sometimes game-ending buff.

“R… really?”

“Yeah, and you’re handsome, gorgeous, and hot as hell too, so the whole damn package,” you responded absentmindedly, realizing the enemy were trying to split-push and trade objectives so you sent some pings to your teammate to take care of that as you accompanied the main group to help clear waves of minions.

Heat.

You heard him shift beside you and suddenly his face was next to yours, watching your screen closely.

Side-step, cast your ultimate, cast your Miasma ability to ground the enemies and prevent them from dashing away, switching between auto-attacking and piercing them with Twin Fang, all in the span of a mild freak-out because why was Jungkook so FUCKING close?

“Wow, you’re so good at League.”

“I’m Diamond rank, so not that good, but definitely better than all seven of you combined.”

“Haha, true, we’re all pretty bad,” Jungkook laughed next to your ear and, oh, shit, is warm breath feathered on your neck, why weren’t you wearing a turtleneck or something and not your self-cropped oversized band t-shirt and slinky black leggings, why weren’t you cocooned in layers of clothes, because you were quickly highly aware of how attractive Namjoon’s friends were.

To top it all off, you were in the middle of a game, so you just had to tolerate it and stay calm for the sake of your teammates and your elo.

“Maybe you could teach us and we’ll teach you something in return.”

“You guys don’t even listen to each other, why would I assume you all would listen to me?”

“I’d listen to you, noona.”

Now your team was doing the Baron dance, skirting in and out of vision, daring the other team to make a move, daring each other to make a mistake so the other could capitalize on it, slowly, slowly, watch the waves, watch the minimap. Careful. You could control the situation if you were calm and not too trigger-happy. Tension in your fingers and tension in your neck because your roommate’s friend was right next to your head, observing your every move.

His violet hair brushed your shoulder.

Soft, delicate strands against your skin.

“You’re more experienced, so you would know what to do.”

Your support snap-engaged a fight and you were immediately in the zone, right clicking rapidly, cycling through your abilities, keeping track of the opponents’ spells, determined not to let any of them get away, following your teammate’s calls and not hesitating, because hesitation as death and loss, and you were so close to winning you could taste it, going after it with passionate vigor and a slow-forming grin, seeing and hearing the in-game announcer declaring, QUADRA KILL.

You didn’t kill all five of them because someone took the pentakill from you.

You might have cared about that except your ear exploded into clapping as Jungkook excitedly applauded for you, cheering you on, reminding you that a mostly shirtless man was standing right next to you.

Thanks, Namjoon, you thought sarcastically.

“Wow, you played that so well, dodging the Viktor ult and stunning three people like that–”

You felt your cheeks heat at the compliments, busying yourself with your team killing Baron. You didn’t usually have someone commenting on your games. Your eyes flickered to the small buttons on your desk.

Especially not a mostly shirtless guy.

Mostly shirtless hot guy.

Back to screen, seeing your jungler’s typed instructions, suggesting you all to destroy as many structures as you could and then prepare for the next fight for Ocean Dragon Soul and – oh? Your eyebrows raised as the screen abruptly jerked to the enemy base, the nexus inside exploding into shiny gem-like fragments that became the VICTORY banner.

“They surrendered?” you uttered with surprise, clicking on the CONTINUE button. “Why?”

Your eyes flickered to the kill score.

“Oh, thirty-two to nine… maybe that’s why….”

Your team had the nine deaths and the opponent team had thirty-two so, well, maybe that’s why they surrendered the game.

“Aw, that’s no fun,” Jungkook pouted as you clicked on the damage screen. Second most damage. Okay, you could take that. You were a little distracted.

“So, about your problem–”

You spun around to, ack, realize that, yes, Jungkook’s shirt was still flapped wide open to expose his chest like an unwrapped piece of caramel candy. He seemed to realize it too, making a surprised face and yanking the sides closed, as if you hadn’t gotten a damn eyeful already.

“I can resew the buttons back on, but you should borrow a shirt from Namjoon in the meantime,” you managed to say, clearing your throat. “Because I, ah, can’t really sew it when you’re still wearing the shirt.”

“Oh… Oh, right, yeah.”

Then he started yanking his shirt out of his slacks.

UMMMMMMM.

Usually, you didn’t care about this stuff. Men were men. They had chests. But you had things you liked too. Just like how men like tits and ass, you liked well-built pecs and forearms. Actually, you appreciated a nice ass and thighs too. And cute faces. Fuck, you loved a cute face.

“Uh, Jungkook…”

He looked up, questioningly. Big round brown eyes, his violet bangs framing his chiseled jaw, parted pink lips, the small mole underneath his lower lip looking so, so kissable, quivering slightly.

Fuck, Jungkook had a cute face.

His shirt was very open.

Fuck, his lightly tanned skin.

He was hesitating around a button, his deft fingers flexed, ink black tattoos standing out on his knuckles and the back of his hand. Your legs were slightly spread, thighs flush to your gaming chair. Half a second and Jungkook’s eyes flickered back up to your face, pretending he hadn’t been looking.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Are you really just gonna strip in my room and walk out asking Namjoon for a shirt and hope none of the six guys think anything about it?”

His eyes shifted around your room. Bed with black sheets and black velvet duvet. Television with your gaming consoles. Your collection of character figurines from various games. Your black denim jacket hanging on a hook, covered in monotone patches that you had sewn yourself, mostly occult-themed, skeletons, skulls, cats, ghosts, potions, eyeballs, that kind of thing. Back to your desk.

Your legs.

Really staring at your thighs, hips, and crotch.

Up your torso, your hands, your exposed collarbones.

Your face.

Guarding his expression, testing the waters.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said slowly. His eyes darted away and back, teeth catching his lower lip. “I really am hoping you can fix my shirt.”

You watched his face carefully, the flare of darkness in those brown orbs, a hint of naughtiness, dancing with danger. Jungkook had a mischievous streak. You could tell by the way he interacted with his hyungs, listening but talking back, helping them with things but not without a roll of his eyes or a smart remark added, probably because all his friends were older and he was the youngest. He knew he could get away with it.

In short.

Brat.

“What would you like in return, noona?” Jungkook purred, smile dancing on his lips.

Honorifics were supposed to honor you. Show a sign of respect and all that shit.

All I wanted to do was play video games, you grumbled internally. Not suddenly have a thirst fest for one of Namjoon’s best friends. You narrowed your eyes a little, seeing the smirk on that perfectly shaped mouth. He’s not stopping either.

Outside your room, something fell with a loud crash. Probably Namjoon by the depth of that startled yelp. Everyone else started laughing and a very loud, cheerful melody was blasting from the living room television. Nobody was coming to investigate you and Jungkook.

Yet.

“Turn around and ask for a shirt,” you sighed, waving a hand. “Then take off your shirt in the bathroom and then, only then, do you come back and give me your dress shirt.”

You saw Jungkook frown, not expecting that as your answer.

“Oh. Okay.”

He seemed disappointed, lowering his hands.

The silky fabric of the dress shirt slid off his right shoulder, partly revealing his tattoo sleeve and fully revealing his right collarbone and shoulder.

You sucked in a breath, eyes flickering to it. Then his face. Then back to his body. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Jungkook jumped, startled by the fallen fabric and reached over to grab the fallen collar. Your hand moved faster than you had time to think. You had good reaction time. It was the gaming obsession.

You slapped his hand down.

Jungkook squeaked, head snapping up, purple hair floating around him, gold chain on his neck glittering as he swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. Strangely, his chain resembled your sterling silver choker that you were wearing right now, except you also wore another necklace with a circular white gold pendant with your zodiac sign.

Not that anyone was ever close enough to inspect it.

“N-Noona?” he breathed, sounding strangely winded.

Shit.

You hadn’t meant to do that. Your body reacted faster than your head.

Shit.

Fuck, he had a nice body. His pecs. Even had a nice dark nipple – well, he probably had two, but you could only see one at the moment – and it all trimmed down to a slim waist and shapely hips. You could tell because of his tailored black slacks. He had been wearing a blazer earlier in the evening too. It was probably on a chair somewhere in the apartment.

Shit.

What did Jungkook need to look so damn good for?

“Where did you guys go to be dressed like that?”

Yes, you were really just going to interrogate him with his shirt dangling off like that.

Jungkook chewed on his lower lip, the tiny mole underneath bouncing up and down as he spoke. “We went to a fancy hotel rooftop bar to celebrate Yoongi-hyung’s award that he won at the music show for producing that song–”

“Ah, right, Namjoon mentioned that earlier today.” Dress code must have been black tie.

Those dark brown eyes found yours, observing you carefully.

“I would have liked to see you there, noona.”

You stopped staring at the tattoos on his bicep and made eye contact. Fuck. Those eyes. Sparkling with deviousness. Trying to see how far he could push your buttons.

“I wonder what kind of dress would you have worn?” he murmured, musing to himself. “I bet you would have looked hotter than any girl there.” Jungkook smiled, playful and boyish. He wasn’t being sleazy about it. Every word was light and honest. “A tight little black dress? Maybe bright red? Short, because you have incredible legs. It would be a crime not to show them off.” He was only complimenting you. His tone wasn’t trying to be suggestive.

Yet.

You didn’t close your legs. You had nothing to be shy about.

Instead, you leaned back in your gaming chair as if it was a throne, resting your left elbow on the armrest and your chin on two fingers, thighs wide open, and your other hand in between them, fingers curled inward to your inner thigh.

Jungkook’s pink lips curved ever higher, ever more roguish.

“Whatever you would have chosen, you would have looked so, so sexy.”

You ticked your head.

“I know.”

Because you did.

Look here, Jeon Jungkook, I’m here minding my own damn business and you’re here inserting yourself into my life, so if you can’t handle me knowing my self-worth, you can fuck right off.

He reached up and tucked a bit of his purple hair behind his right ear, grinning at you.

“You sure you don’t want anything from me?” he asked, a slight flicker of pink tongue between white teeth. “I can give first and then you can decide whether or not you want to help.”

Honestly, those sultry eyes could stop a heart.

You removed your hand from your chin, tapping the air with those two fingers in a dismissive manner.

“Hm.”

Outside, Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok were singing a soulful duet and Park Jimin was hooting at inappropriate moments to ruin the atmosphere as much as possible. That raspy, breathless laugh was Min Yoongi, who was probably doubled over on the floor in his expensive suit. Classic genius music producer of the year behavior right there.

Jungkook tucked his hands in his pockets, shirt sleeve falling down, revealing his blacked-out inner elbow. Mountains with a dark sky. It must have hurt, doing something like that. Still, he did it. For aesthetics?

You heard the smirk rather than seeing it, mostly because you were looking at his body.

“I would look so damn good on you, noona.”

Alright.

You closed your eyes slowly and reopened them to look directly into those dangerous, dangerous eyes.

“Lock the door.”

Not really an order. More of a statement. Jungkook could do it or not, you knew. He couldn’t be coerced to do anything. He did things because he wanted to do them. He was nice because he wanted to be nice. He was childish when he wanted to be childish.

And.

Jungkook was obedient when he wanted to be obedient.

He turned around, went to your bedroom door, and locked it.

Well then.

He came back and stood in front of you. A little closer now.

You cocked an eyebrow. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

Jungkook smiled down at you. “I’m sure they will.”

You frowned, lowering your hand to tap the end of the armrest. “They’re going to think I started this.”

“You kind of did.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply. He grinned, taking a step closer.

“Because it’s not my fault you look so good,” Jungkook breathed, voice deepening, leaning down, your expression unchanging, not pulling back but not encouraging anything either. “Not my fault your body is hotter than a summer. Not my fault your confidence is the biggest turn-on I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your thighs were still as open as his shirt.

Jungkook put his knee in between them.

His dress shirt was basically almost completely off his body now, falling off the left shoulder too and dangling off his forearms, exposed collarbones and shoulders, tan skin taut over muscle. A delicious body line, so fucking close to you that you could feel the heat. You still didn’t do anything. You weren’t going to do anything. You didn’t prompt this. You were simply minding your own business commanding a snake lady to victory, not expecting to get seduced by a mischievous bunny-like smile and a tiny black mole under a cute pout.

“I can’t help myself around you.”

You usually didn’t say more to Namjoon’s friends than a mere hello, not wanting to bother them with your presence. They were all men after all. You expected them to want bro time or whatever. Also, you were too busy being obsessed with men that didn’t exist in real life to pursue men that did exist in real life.

At least League of Legends had 3D models so no one could say you lived only the 2D lifestyle.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t partake when the dinner laid themselves out to be eaten. They often had to, because you wouldn’t pay attention otherwise.

Purple hair drifted into your vision, surrounding you in a curtain of violet and dark brown eyes, warm exhale and trembling pink lips, trapping you in Jungkook’s gaze, but you refused to relent, keeping your gaze even. Steady breaths to disguise your racing heart.

You kept your hands closed to prevent him from seeing your shaking fingers.

“Every time I see you, I want you to touch me,” he whispered, trying to hide the edge of nervousness by lowering his voice, enticing you to lean in to hear him better because someone was wiping a damn window in the living room outside your door or was that Kim Seokjin laughing?

There was no difference.

Jungkook’s forehead touched yours and you stopped thinking about Seokjin.

“I just want you to feel me up, rip my clothes off, and fuck me until I can’t think straight. Use me, abuse me, wreck me, ruin me,” he shuddered, definitely thinking about it, and one blink and you spied the obvious tent in his pants.

“Maybe I’m a lazy girl,” you finally said, touching your nose to his, inhaling his breath, a little bit of alcohol, a little bit of fruitiness, and that hint of cologne, fresh, clean, and intense. Something else too. Musk, maybe his pheromones or something like that. Whatever it was smelled fucking delicious, just like you. What did your perfume smell like? Spiced fire blended with addictive sweetness.

You shrugged casually.

“Maybe I’m a pillow princess.”

Jungkook chuckled.

“I can tell you’re not.”

You had to smirk.

Of course, you weren’t.

You closed your thighs around his knee and squeezed, raising to your tiptoes. He gasped softly, shivering at the simple touch of your soft thighs pressing around his muscular leg. It was disturbingly noisy out there, but here it was silent, pared down to your breathing and Jungkook’s breathing, mixing together, blazingly hot, closer, closer, doing the careful dance, daring each other to make the move that was so obviously going to happen.

“What are you gonna say when they ask you where you’ve been all this time?” you whispered, avoiding letting your lips brush against his.

“The truth.”

His tongue flickered out and barely touched your lips.

You didn’t make a sound.

Jungkook moaned, the sound drifting into your throat, and you could taste his desire.

“I tripped and fell into your lap.”

Your lips curved into a smirk.

He kissed you.

His hands on the armrests of your rolling chair, pushing it back into your desk, pressing his lips to yours, inhaling deeply, wanting to breathe you, wanting to taste you, wanting you, shivering as you finally touched him with your hands, but this was you, and your first touch wasn’t going to be wasted on a conventional innocent touch.

Your fingers closed in on his rock-hard erection and stroked him through his pants.

Jungkook moaned your name right in your mouth, eyes half-lidded, his violet hair encircling your face as he rolled his hips into your palm, whining deep in his chest.

“Fuck, yes, noona, play with me…”

You flitted your tongue between his lips and he chased it, begging you for more, and yet you continued to tease, light flicks between those soft pillows, nipping at them, even pushing up his lower lip so the tip of your tongue could draw a small heart around that mole, kissing it, so gentle, so delicate. His entire body shook, your hand palming his hardness through his pants, nails scraping against his balls, caressing all of it, acting like you owned it. Jungkook was certainly humping your hand like you did.

“You only want me because I didn’t want you,” you taunted, not bothering to hide your smirk and your slight disapproval.

“That’s not true,” he panted, attempting to get you to touch his chest, pushing you back into your chair, and yet you kept the fingers of your free hand on the cusp of what he wanted, heat close but no contact, causing him to whimper every time your fingernails barely nicked his skin. “I want you because you’re pretty, gorgeous, and hot as hell.”

Hm, that sounded familiar.

“I want you because I love watching you play your favorite games,” he chuckled, kissing the side of your lips, nose to nose. “I want you because I love that little smirk you make when you do something good. I want you because I love that aggressiveness that comes out and how you seem to lose your filter. Shit, it’s so fucking hot when you’re focused. Makes me wanna see your face when you’re pinning me down and having your way with me. Makes me want to obey you and disobey you at the same time, because I want you to reward me and punish me, I just can’t decide, fuck, you make life so hard for me.”

He punctuated hard by violently humping your hand, rattling your desk with his force.

Outside you heard Namjoon yelling “CANNONBALL” and throwing himself onto that giant gray furry beanbag you paid far too much for about six months ago. It was now a household party favorite, due to its massive size and fluffiness. At the moment, it sounded like a pile of six guys in semi-formal clothing was beginning and, instead of watching this heap of hot dudes being constructed, you were making out with the seventh guy’s face and grabbing his dick.

You’ll take this trade.

You felt Jungkook’s hands groping around, undoing his pants and the zipper, trying to get you to touch more, more, desperate for you to be all over him.

“P-Please… please, I don’t know when they’re going to notice…” he pleaded. “You’re so close, so close, ah, I can’t think, please…”

“Shh…” you soothed. “The door is locked.”

Your fingertips finally touched his chest, not disappointed in the slightest when you touched those delicious-looking pecs. They felt just as nice under your palm, his pounding heart and wanton moan vibrating up your arm.

“Aren’t you a needy little brat trying to distract me from my games, hm?”

Your fingertips hooked over the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“You’re going to have to face the consequences, Jungkook.”

You said his name like a delicious sweet about to be eaten, growl in your throat as you yanked down his underwear, capturing his lips, robbing him of his cries as you clawed down his chest, grasping his cock and pumping him, long, complete strokes from base to tip, curling your fingers around his balls, juggling them with your fingers teasingly as he squirmed and groaned. Your free arm shot around his back, digging your nails into his spine, not letting him get away. His black dress shirt was falling, falling to your floor, his bluish-purple hair in your face and his strong hands on your shoulders, sliding down, kneading your breasts through your clothes, whining that you were still wearing a bra – of course, you were, six dudes were coming over and they didn’t need to see your magnificent nipples on display, although clearly one of them wanted to see – and he was trying to get to the hem of your shirt, but you smacked his hands away, building the pressure and speed, pre-cum leaking between your fingers and adding slickness to lessen the dry friction.

Fuck, you could smell him and he smelled so fucking good.

“Noona, please…” Jungkook gasped, hands on the armrests of your chair, tipping his head back at the pleasure, pants at his fucking knees, chest, crotch, thighs on display. “This is… embarrassing…”

He meant him being mostly naked and you being dressed.

You shrugged, acting indifferent. “Not for me.”

He whimpered at your words, so noticeably dominant despite not using an aggressive or commanding tone. Either that or he was very invested in you jacking him off. You suspected it was a combination of the two, considering how eagerly his cock twitched when you answered.

“What should I do, Jungkook? Should I let you cum? Or should I play with you and stop, make you put your clothes back on and walk out there, desperate to be finished off?” you mused aloud, running your nails up his back, not that hard, but he leaned back into it so they sank into him, wordlessly begging you to do it harder, so you did, setting your jaw and scratching at his back, forcing him back into position. His cock throbbed in your hand, pulsating wildly.

Hm, he really loved it, huh.

“P-Please… wanna cum, please don’t be mean…” he gasped, thrusting his hips into your punishingly tight grip.

“Hm, why does it matter? You’ll just run to the bathroom and finish yourself off anyway, right?”

“Want you to do it, please,” he begged, his long hair curling around his jaw, dark purple locks framing the sharpness, lashes fluttering as you rubbed your thumb against the underside of the head, smearing pre-cum over the slit. “Your hand feels so good, so fucking good, better than I thought, please, I need you to touch me or I can’t get off, please…”

You removed your hand.

Jungkook cried out in denied despair, pitch hiking, the sinful sound clearly audible despite the debaucherously loud ruckus outside your bedroom door that included not one, but two people howling like werewolves for some unknown reason. At this point, you were mildly curious.

But you had a job to do.

He grabbed the front of your shirt, almost sobbing with need. Somehow his violet hair was a mess and you hadn’t even touched it. It cascaded over one of his eyes, an indigo curtain, the other chocolate orb shaking and pupil dilated, black prominent in the dark brown.

“Please don’t–”

You shoved two fingers from your right hand into that pleading mouth and raised your left.

He choked, gagging a little on your fingers.

You stuck your tongue out and licked your palm, slathering it with a thick layer of slick saliva.

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the dirty action and then rolled back into his head as you wrapped your hand around his aching cock once more, now covered in saliva, swiftly and fervently jacking him off, hard, fast, tight, nearly choking his cock, pushing his chin up and his chest to your hungry mouth, tongue and teeth and lips, all over those dark nipples hardening under your persistent touch, heedless to his rising moans, so very obvious now what was happening in your bedroom.

It didn’t bother you at all. Jungkook walked in here and asked you to wreck and ruin him, so you did exactly what he asked you to do, leaving harsh bite marks and slippery saliva all over his soft skin, your perfume rubbing off onto his body, coating his chest in your scent and his pulsating thick length with your spit, and he was so fucking hard that you were impressed, feeling his mouth suck on your fingers desperately and wetly, your name a messy garble above your head.

“Fuck, yes, umpf, oh fuck, I’m so close, so close, gonna cum, goona cum for you…!”

“Jungkook?”

You had no idea who called his name through your door, because the next second Jungkook was pitching forward and shooting his cum up your thigh and chest, thick white strings painting your leggings and band t-shirt, soaking into the fabric and creating a sticky mess on your skin, your head lifting in response to his movement to avoid knocking into him, your fingers sliding out of his lips, strings of saliva snapping as they left, and suddenly Jungkook’s face was in your face, his lips on yours in a passionate kiss, rutting into your hand to increase the sensitivity, shoulders and hips flinching, whimpering gratitude and ecstasy into your mouth, his hands in your hair, kissing you deeper, more ravenously, ignoring the questioning voices, lost in the pleasure of his orgasm.

You heard Namjoon say outside your door, “I think he made his move.”

You asshole, at least warn me, you thought irritably.

“You’re so good… so good, exactly what I need… I knew you would be… fuck…”

You thrust your tongue into his lips once and backed off, chuckling as he whined for more.

“Go ask for a shirt.”

Jungkook shook his head rapidly, violet hair flying everywhere. Your hand was still wrapped around his semi-hard cock, his cum dripping onto your wrist. His ears were turning red.

“I can’t… They know something is going on…” he mumbled, scooting closer to you, as if your body heat could somehow mask the fact that you just jacked him off with six of his friends standing outside your bedroom door whispering.

“Maybe you wanted them to know.”

You squeezed his ass and he trembled, clutching your shoulders.

“Easy way to tell them that you want to be owned by me, right?”

You could tell by the way his eyes were darting around rapidly that the thought crossed his mind more than once.

“Jungkook.”

You said it loud enough for a keen ear to hear it if they were really eavesdropping. You looked up at Jungkook, his eyes immediately fixating on yours because of your tone.

In control, not to be questioned.

“Get on your knees.”

Dead silence outside your bedroom.

“B… but…”

His cheeks flushed pink.

You took his chin and pulled him down to your face, murmuring to that mole under his lips, pecking it daintily, almost innocently, his wispy moan drifting over your nose. Your words were barely above a whisper, only for him.

“You made a mess. Clean it up.”

You stroked Jungkook’s chin with your thumb, your other hand tucking his long hair behind his ear.

“I’ll let you sleep in my bed tonight, so be a good boy for me right now and I’ll let you be a bad boy in bed.”

His head tilted and Jungkook whispered your name into your mouth, drenched with desire.

You smirked, stroking his jaw fondly.

He got to his knees, in between your open thighs, leaning forward, subservient eyes on your face as his pink tongue extended, licking at his own cum staining your clothes, eyes closing at your hand on the top of his head, not directing the movement, but reminding him who was in charge here, reminding him with nails in his scalp that he was going to be fucked until he couldn’t think straight.

Used, abused, wrecked, ruined.

-

“I don’t wanna.”

“We both know you do.”

“But I want to fuck you,” Jungkook protested, speaking softly because everyone was sleeping, or at least it seemed that way, not that either you or Jungkook cared, because you were forcing him to his knees on your bed, pushing his torso back, nails digging into his chest, towering over him, his naked body already covered in your bites and scratches, focused on his inner thighs and chest, none on his neck because that’s where he wanted it the most.

And you knew it.

“Noona, please…”

He said please a lot for someone who did not, in fact, want to be pleased, but tortured.

You grabbed him by the chin, cocking an eyebrow.

His hands were behind him, arms shaking as they held him up, shivering delightfully under your petrifying gaze.

“Please what? Hm? Saying please when you come crawling into my room, begging for dirty things with your friends right outside, saying please when you interrupt me and distract me, jeopardizing my chances to win my game?”

You leaned in close, you knowing you were only crafting a scene, him knowing that you didn’t actually care, but Jungkook wanted to hear the words, wanted you to put that malice in your tone to caress his ears, wanted you to cannibalize his sanity and put him in a different headspace, his cock already responding to it, bobbing in the air, purple-red and achingly hard from multiple orgasms, and he still wanted more.

“Saying please so you can say please when you’re under me, helplessly begging me to let you cum?”

You could hear his whines vibrating under your fingertips, pupils blown wide, lower lip trembling, begging you already, such a needy little thing, those lovely brown eyes full of submission, muscles tense with anticipation, every passing second spiraling him into increased frustration, because instead of doing anything, you were only smirking wider and wider, pushing his head back.

“Well? Tell me if you’re a dirty boy or not. Maybe I’ll do what you want.”

His violet hair cascaded to his shoulder blades, his low moan coursing through your fingertips and the heated air of your bedroom.

“Y… Yes, I’m a d-dirty boy…”

“Noona,” you prompted.

Just because you could.

His lips curved into an open smile, two of your fingers hooked over his lower lip, fingertips rubbing his tongue. Your thumb nail pressed into his mole.

“Noona.”

You ripped the condom open with your teeth, which was not advisable unless you were the kind of person that practiced that for hours on end, spending an obscene amount of money on unused condoms to perfect your technique, because nobody wants a broken condom or lube in their teeth. Why would you want to learn such a thing? You were a stickler for details. A perfectionist in perfecting a perfect display of raw dominance.

You spat out the torn corner onto Jungkook’s chest and he whimpered, unashamedly amazed.

Your left hand removed the condom from the package and your right slid out of his mouth and encircled his neck.

You inspected the condom, lazily turning it to the correct position, fingers pressed to the sides of his neck, leaving plenty of space for his trachea between your thumb and forefinger. You didn’t bother looking at his face. Instead, you spread your legs, poised and naked over him and his throbbing cock.

Your right hand started choking him.

Your left hand started rolling the condom down his thick, hard length.

Your name leaked out of his lips in a thin gurgle, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Say please, Jungkook.”

A sharp, distinct order.

“P… Please…” he gasped out, chest shuddering.

Your hand tightened around his throat and your pussy clenched around his cock as you forced yourself down on him.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck…”

You didn’t bother asking if he liked it. His vicious fisting of your sheets and trembling body, cries and cock included, told you everything you needed to know. You only watched the color of his cheeks, knowing there were limits to how long you could choke him. Therefore there was no time to be wasted, already starting your favorite pace, rough and hard, filling yourself with that delicious cock built to take your abuse, jaw set, gripping his throat, blood pounding under your fingertips, slapping hips to crotch, heat sparking though your veins, hotter, hotter, your smirk growing more and more smug, tongue tracing your lips as you witnessed Jungkook’s descent into sin, raising his head so he could watch you bounce on his cock with hazed brown orbs, mouth open, tongue lolling out, circulation thinning, purple hair wild around that cute, distressed face.

You let up the pressure on his neck, dark snicker rumbling in your chest.

“This pussy worth it, brat?”

The rush of missing blood into his brain, the suffocating pleasure of your pulsating walls wrapped around his twitching cock, your authoritative growl and merciless words tearing through him – you saw it all taking over Jungkook, forced to respond honestly from pure instinct because there was no time to compile pretty words or a smart comeback.

“Yes, noona, yes, I love it, I love it, this brat fucking loves what you do to him…”

You immediately choked him again and slapped your pussy onto his cock like you were whipping him.

His eyes rolled back and a wild moan tore out of his chest, cut off by your hand.

The bed creaked under you, bearing the weight of your roughness.

“I know you love it,” you snarled, leaning in, fucking him into your bed with vigor, straining his knees, so uncomfortable and so comfortable for him at the same time, pain and pleasure, clearly something he craved and loved from how hard he was. “You said you need me to touch you or you can’t get off.”

You knew that couldn’t be true.

Jungkook probably got off hundreds of times thinking about you, otherwise he wouldn’t be so ecstatic about you violently riding his dick right now.

His teeth sank into his swollen lower lip, staring at you through his lashes, his voice a thin whisper laced with insatiable need.

“I can’t cum without you anymore.”

You removed your hand.

Your hips stopped abruptly, fulling sheathing his cock inside you.

“No!”

His shout was so loud and desperate that you had to conceal your surprise, not expecting the frantic ferocity of his tone, nearly an agonized sob as he grabbed your upper arms in a crushing grip, his indigo locks crashing into his high cheekbones, sticking to his sweaty face and sharp jaw. It took everything in you to stay calm, everything to not give in and let him have what he wanted. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was knowing the role you were playing, maybe it was the sadistic side of you, who the fuck knew, but there was only a beat of hesitation, a second of you staring into those beautiful dark brown eyes, so perfect.

Just perfect.

Perfectly wrecked, willing to do anything in this moment for you to continue.

Before he could utter a peep of a plea, you shook out of his grip and seized his head, crashing his lips onto your neck.

Jungkook bit you.

Instant, searing pain, taking out all his sexual frustration on your neck, sucking at the skin, hot tongue lapping, groaning, moaning, half-crying because you didn’t move. You just sat on his dick and forced his mouth onto your neck, gleefully savoring his despair, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel the pleasure, his hands and nails digging into your waist, his teeth latched to the side of your throat, his stiff cock shuddering inside you, your tight heat keeping him hard but not letting him cum, repeatedly squeezing the engorged head brutally, driving him insane.

Insane.

You could feel his lips move, but you muffled his words, pushing his head into your neck.

Please.

Deep inhale, his wonderful scent filling your nose.

Please.

Riding the high that was Jungkook’s desire for you, fingers tangled into violet strands.

Please.

He felt so, so good, spoon-feeding the dom in you with his tiny whimpers and distraught sniffles.

“P… Please…”

You pressed your lips to his hair, murmuring his name sweetly.

“Jungkook.”

No quiver to your tone, only serene calm.

“Noona…”

His hands slid up your back as your hips began to rock, slow, so painfully slow, building the frenzy layer by layer, his hardness swelling inside you, his soft lips pressed to his hickey onto your neck, even more turned on because he knew you let him mark you, he knew in this moment you were his and only his, everything he wanted and more, his hips rising to meet yours, deepening your thrusts, matching your force, burying his face into your skin and your scent, wanting nothing more than your command over his body.

You turned his head, tucking his hair behind one ear, speaking dark whispers into that curve.

“You look the best when on your knees for me, Jungkook.”

He shivered, your name falling sloppily from his lips, drunk from your power and lost in his service.

You let go of his head and grabbed his shoulders instead, putting all of your weight onto him, now letting yourself chase it, chase the orgasm that you had been building for yourself all this time, letting yourself feel Jungkook and feel the full force of the pleasure he gave you, because, yes, of course, you served him first before you, even if it didn’t seem like it.

Because when it came down to it, Jungkook came to you, opening himself petal by petal to show you his vulnerable side, testing the waters, hoping, wishing, praying that maybe, just maybe, you were the kind of person that he was expecting, wanting, needing, and you, knowing how difficult that was because, well, you had made it difficult, only focusing on games and not on those longing eyes that watched you whenever you came into his view.

Eyes that you looked into now.

Half-lidded, glazed over, fucked-out, still honest.

His large hands were still on your waist, holding you to him as you rode him with furious slaps, muscles flexed in his chest and arms, tattoos on his right arm tense and taut from holding this position for so long. He looked so good. Felt so good. Had an amazing cock.

And fuck.

Jungkook had a cute face.

You genuinely smiled.

“I’ll take care of everything,” you drawled, injecting your words with conviction and adoration.

That did it.

His lips parted, low groan emitting from his throat as his head tipped back, purple waterfalling onto his back, thrusting up into you and shooting into the condom with fierce jolts, unable to hold back any longer, his entire length flinching uncontrollably, sweet whimpers at his release, feeling sorry that he didn’t let you cum first, but that didn’t matter, because you rode through it, already there, falling, falling, your sigh like laden smoke as your orgasm slammed into you, welcoming the bolts of cruel pulses flying through you, concentrated onto your core, Jungkook’s moans hiking into pitched ecstasy at the convulsing clenches of his oversensitive, overused cock, arms embracing you tightly, hugging you for dear life, chest to chest, pounding heart against yours.

Your fingers tangled into his hair.

His hand fitted around your head.

Lips to lips and you took care of everything, claiming that mouth as yours, holding him up even though you were the one in his lap, your kiss onto that perfect mole under that pretty pout, cherishing every mumble of your name, lowering him onto your pillows, soft kisses in between. You took care of everything, lifting yourself off him, chuckling as he whined, pawing for you to come back, but you rapped his knuckles and calmed him, removing the condom and cleaning him off gently with a towel, soft kisses in between because he wanted the attention, deliberately not closing his eyes until you crawled back into the bed, tucking the covers around you and him, Jungkook immediately turning and yanking you into his chest, nose against your skin.

“Who’s the pillow princess?” you teased, ruffling his long violet locks.

His lips pressed onto your hickey, his mark on you, and he sighed in content, drifting into sleep.

-

In the morning, you found a pile of five guys in the living room sleeping in various positions on the giant gray furry beanbag and the sofa. Jungkook was in your bed, passed out. The last guy, Min Yoongi, was in Kim Namjoon’s room, sleeping on his bed, because he was a smart man and took advantage of a perfectly good bed that five drunk hooligans undoubtedly forgot about.

You chuckled and rubbed your neck as you brushed your teeth, seeing yourself and the large purple hickey Jungkook had made last night in the bathroom mirror.

You went back to your room after retrieving the sewing basket from the living room, spending the morning calmly stitching the small buttons back onto his black dress shirt as the seven guys in your apartment continued to snore away.

Then you went back to playing League of Legends.

Ah, Cassiopeia, I had an eventful evening, but I have returned to you.

-

drabble morning-after hungover breakfast

--

masterpost

[leviiattacks]

Seven minutes in Heaven with Physics Major Levi

author note :: i lost the ask but anon i do not know what this is. reading it sounded better in my head but physics major levi with reader who likes him is that a good description???? HM ANYWAY enjoy it’s not too great i’ve been revising nonstop for exams but i might as well have finished this off for the anon who requested it :-)

word count :: 2.5k probably... hm who knows maybe 3k

when you and levi become friends it’s definitely unexpected to say the least. everyone is naturally very confused by the peculiar pairing. levi doesn’t really... go out of his way to befriend anyone really??? so for him to approach you in the middle of the library and start talking about how he noticed you shared a class together was out of the ordinary

the flow of the conversation is a little awkward at first, you’re revising for a final exam and don’t really appreciate the disruption but you’re not confident enough to tell him to leave.

at one point an awkward silence drifts between the two of you until he points out you’ve completely RUINED your notes and have been looking over the wrong lectures for the up and coming physics exam

later on into the night levi’s stood sighing next to you. he tells you to take your pick from the pot noodle section — “hey, i know we literally just met but i’m telling you a chicken pot noodle is gonna make you feel better.”

you’re so distraught that he has to pick it up for you and pay

and that is how you and levi become friends !!!

if it’s of any relevance yes you passed the final (all because of levi giving you his organised binder full of notes and telling you to make use of it)

you know it just sorta happens but through all of the all nighters you’ve pulled with levi by your side you become used to his presence nearby. in fact most of the the time it’s difficult to even find you anywhere without him. you’re both practically joined at the hip

levi’s pretty protective of you, hates the whole party scene but is willing to tag along if you’re going. at first you think it’s because he feels more comfortable stepping out of his comfort zone if you’re there with him but his intentions become more evident later on

any time someone makes you uncomfortable he’s by your side, if you happen to get into any sort of trouble he’s the person people call to help you because who else knows you the way levi does?

currently you and levi are at another party, you tend to keep to yourself and only ever talk to your close friends. it’s also not like you to partake in games, you’re far too nervous to play anything like seven minutes in heaven but for some reason you find yourself wanting to take part JUST this once

maybe it’s the fear of never making fun memories to tell your future children about

then again why on earth would you be telling your children about your experience kissing a random man in a closet??

either way, participating shouldn’t hurt!!! you’ve got to loosen up a little!!!

levi’s a little surprised you agree to play nevertheless he still sits next to you, the both of you have your legs crossed on the floor, your knees are touching and you aren’t sure if he feels the same warm sensation that you feel. it bubbles in the pit of your stomach – you feel oddly content

“levi!! anyone you want the bottle to land on ???” hange a mutual friend of yours leans in handing him the glass bottle

levi gives the bottle a disgusted look before his gaze flicks over to you.

“i’m only here because of y/n, i ‘m not playing.”

that doesn’t satisfy hange and they begin to groan complaining that he can’t stay unless he spins the bottle

“look you don’t have to do anything in the closet, okay??” hange’s begging him at this point, he’s still holding up pretty well and for some reason you’re disappointed. it’s almost like you hoped he’d spin the bottle just so it would land on you

levi takes notice of your frown and guesses you want him to be included, he isn’t one for games like these but if it’ll make you happy so be it. there’s still the chance it’ll land on you and his thought process falters for a second.

he thinks he really wouldn’t mind if the bottle landed on you and so he ends up nodding and agreeing to play.

anyway it’s not as if he isn’t guilty of imagining the two of you being a little more than friends

ok wait!!!! it’s completely innocent HE SWEARS!!!!

he’s never told you about it but sometimes he thinks if he was a little more straightforward that day at the library and asked for your number MAYBE just MAYBE his intentions would be clearer and he wouldn’t be stuck in the friend zone for this long

he should’ve used a stupid physics pick up line he knows you love those

something like – “i’m attracted to you more than an electron’s attracted to a proton.”

or maybe — “i’d fall for you even in the absence of gravity”

ok... maybe you wouldn’t have got that one considering you were revising the wrong content and probably forgot about that topic

he can’t imagine himself saying those things but if it would make you finally see him as a potential love interest and not a best friend he wouldn’t mind having to force it out

but still it’s not really a secret that levi has a soft spot for you, literally everyone can see it. when has he ever gone out of his way to save a seat for anyone? when has he ever willingly gone to a party? WHEN has levi actually let someone lay their head on his shoulder??

he only ever let’s you do that stuff

let’s actually discuss the head on his shoulder thing!!!

whenever finals approach you’re always sucked in by huge amounts of work and barely get to sleep, levi’s always hovering over your shoulder reminding you to catch a few hours but of course you don’t listen. you think you’ll be just fine if you rely on an energy drink and two hours of sleep to get by

but levi knows you better than you know yourself. it’s hour seven into the day and you’re already dozing off in your seat. slowly but gradually your head tilts forward. levi’s sitting across you contemplating whether or not he should prop your head back up like a nice friend would or if he should wait for you to smack your forehead right into the solid oak table.

he ends up making his decision last minute, your head flies towards the table and if it were anyone else he’d just let them jolt awake from the harsh impact but it’s you and his body won’t let him ignore you.

on reflex his hand flies out and in the matter of a split second he’s holding your head back. he’s surprised you haven’t woken up and he’s even more surprised he bothered to help you

before that happens levi knows he likes you, he knows he enjoys your company, he’s aware you make him happy but he thinks he’s willing to just be friends with you because clearly you don’t want to pursue anything.

you haven’t even flirted with him before aside from the witty “you remind me of an exothermic reaction” joke that you made one time

oh and there’s also the additional fact that you had a boyfriend up until quite recently so he’s sure you don’t see him romantically

honestly he’s fine with not dating you but something about seeing you overwork yourself like that has him simmering in anger. if he were your boyfriend he would have forced you into bed whether you liked it or not

if he were your boyfriend he’d never break up with you because he “found someone better.” he can’t even manage to imagine anyone better than you.

levi shuffles into the seat next to yours and places your head onto his shoulder. a few students shoot him questioning looks but the deadly glare he sends back is enough to deter them from coming any closer

it’s a little funny actually, by the time you wake up you’re rubbing at your eyes, you don’t even notice how close levi is to you until his hot breath fans across your neck. it seems like he’s dozed off whilst trying to make notes on fluid dynamics

wait

levi. right. next. to. your. neck.

should you move????

no, he might wake up he barely sleeps and you don’t want to mess up his schedule even more

that day you choose to drift off back to sleep as if you never woke up to his breath against your neck.

“OHHHH LEVI LANDED ON Y/N????”

your head shoots up NOW you’ve completely been dragged away from your thoughts.

“lucky for you both. guess you won’t have to do anything and stand there for seven minutes. told ya levi there was nothing to worry about B-)”

hange without warning pulls you both up by your arms, you’ve yet to see levi’s reaction, you’re too stunned to have noticed his slack jaw or wide eyes

“HAVE FUN!”

and with that said and done you and levi are shoved into the cleaning closet

“well, i’m glad it landed on you. i won’t have to do anything.” levi seems happy as can be, you don’t really know why but it stings a little

he doesn’t even seem to stop for a second to wonder if you’d maybe want to do anything

are you just not his type ????

hange once told you levi liked organised people and well,, you’re anything but organised. you’d probably pass out from the work load of your physics lectures if not for levi always helping you out

scowling to yourself you try to ignore just how awkward the situation is until levi plops down on the floor in front of you

“you okay?” he asks looking genuinely concerned

“i- yeah i’m good.”

your eyes dart away trying to look at anything but him. you can’t deny he looks good today, you actually helped him slick his hair back - the entire time he complained about the hair gel feeling weird but he looks great and now you can’t even stare at him for more than a second

“i’m guessing you’d have preferred if the bottle landed on someone else.”

leaning forward without even noticing it you aggressively deny what he says. “NO!!! i like being stuck here with you.”

levi looks stunned by your outburst but nods “oh, did you feel pressured to join the game? we can leave if you want—”

“no, no i– you aren’t– oh god i mean, look. i can explain– do i need to explain???”

completely choking up in front of him and sputtering before slamming your lips shut and saying absolutely nothing is probably one of the most awkward things you’ve done in your ENTIRE existence

levi reaches out for your knee, something that’s usually seen as him being friendly only feels intimate tonight. his thumb strokes comforting circles into your skin. the situation doesn’t make it any better, essentially you’re meant to be making out with him right now

“is something bothering you?”

there it is again. that look. he only seems more concerned than before and you hate yourself for not even thinking about your friendship before you open your mouth.

“do you not want to kiss me because we’re best friends or is it something else?”

there it is. you’ve said it.

you see levi’s face contort from a mix of confusion to what looks like disgust then shock. screwing your eyes shut you know you’ve ruined everything now. he’s never going to speak to you, never going to approach you again. you’re mentally preparing for him to ditch you at this party right here right now

but then you notice his hand still steadily placed on your knee, he’s now stopped with the circles, his grip is bruising

“do you want me to kiss you?”

his question isn’t really expected, it helps you find the courage to look your best friend in the eye.

it’s pretty dark but you can still make out the familiar shadows of his face. the butterflies rush up from your stomach all the way to your throat.

mild regret fills you, usually his curtains obscure his piercing gaze but the way you’ve styled his hair gives him a better view of you, there’s nowhere for you to hide

not even stopping to think about the possibility of him teasing you right now, all you care about is telling him the truth. you’ve come all the way here you may as well finish off what you’ve started

“would you be mad if i said i’d like it if you did?”

levi doesn’t need any more confirmation than that, he swoops in yanking you by your waist. his knees are still pressed against the floor and so you find yourself leaning down into his mouth and craning your neck downwards

his chest is completely pressed against yours. the drumming of your heart is so loud you feel self conscious but levi’s soft lips moving against yours distract you from that

not even ten seconds in and you feel out of breathe but not in an overwhelming way. levi’s pace isn’t at all what you imagined it to be like. he’s soft and slow yet calloused and rough around the edges, some how he still manages to make the kiss sweet

his left hand leisurely travels to the small of your back, the other hand now caresses your cheek. his fingertips are anything but soft but the way he handles you is tender and endearingly delicate.

you smile into the kiss and almost instantly levi’s lips tug upwards too. his take on seven minutes in heaven is quite easily the most romantic thing you’ve been subjected to. instead of a passionate make out you’ve been given a honeyed introduction to a new side of him

the kiss ends much quicker than you anticipate, you open your mouth to whine and convince levi that the two of you should still have a solid minute left before hange returns but he presses his index finger against your lips

“later. i promise.” his voice is heavy and if his blushed cheeks are anything to go by he’s thoroughly enjoyed your session together

at his reassurance you comply and take the time to have a better look at him

his lips are wet – some of your lip gloss has clearly stuck to him. his hair isn’t as well styled as it was before, seeing him like this makes you feel a surge of confidence. you know you did that to him.

so... what is someone to do with a sudden boost in confidence?

hit your new possible love interest with a pick up line :-) !!!

“heyyy so i know the spring constant of my mattress, would you be interested in taking some data with me?”

slapping your shoulder lightly he’s yet to gain his composure back, levi’s genuinely out of breathe now trying to steady himself and your comment doesn’t do him any favours that’s for sure

“my god you have no sham–”

without warning the door to your left swings open you and levi flinch trying to scramble away from eachother only to fail, hange marches in before stopping dead in their tracks.

all they see is levi knelt in front of you, hair disheveled huffing like his life depends on it

then their focus shifts to you, you’re sure some of your makeup has smudged and the entire scenario looks suspicious

levi seems as if he’s about to warn hange to not tell anyone and keep this a secret for now but they sprint away before any of you have the opportunity to ask for some privacy

not even ten seconds later a collision can be heard alongside a series of thuds and then hange’s yelling towards the end of the hallway “GUYS??? THEY ACTUALLY DID IT???”

for some reason the cheers coming from the living room warm your heart

you guess your friends figured out the direction of your relationship long before you and levi did :-)

[philtstone]

[definitely not rehearsed, totally spontaneous prompt-giver voice] Sam & Bucky, "nudging the other one"

[definitely not rehearsed, totally spontaneous prompt responder voice] here, have some uninhibited nonsense

"Just be normal about it."

"I am being normal about it."

"You are not bein' normal about it. This is the opposite of normal, oh my God --"

"Is everything alright?" asks their host.

Their host, who happens to be the King of Wakanda. Sure, Sam spent plenty of time in this country as an international fugitive, but he's never been formally invited to Royal Dinner before.

He stops hissing annoyed jibes through the side of his teeth and offers T'Challa his most winning smile.

"Everything's fine."

Bucky glowers. Like he's been doing for the last three hours. Sam wishes one of them had had the power of prophetic vision or something, so he didn't have to open his big fat mouth five minutes after the talon fighter got into the air and he was trapped with the most betrayed version of his best friend in a tin can in the air for a hundred minutes at a time.

T'Challa raises a single eyebrow. Sam aggressively nudges Bucky's unfortunately unyielding arm with his elbow and tries not to wince. 

Bucky says, "Fine," through the most obviously gritted teeth in the world.

"Hm," says the Queen Mother. Of literal, actual, Wakanda. Sam could be cranking up the charm right now, getting his flirt on, but no, he's having dinner with the giant White thundercloud hovering at his now-bruised arm. Vibranium and discrete elbow nudges do not mix, which Sam finds personally offensive. "How are the plantains, Captain Wilson?" asks Queen Ramonda. "Have you tried them? Chef Thebe is trying a new recipe, and I understand you know something about cooking."

"A little, yeah," says Sam, trying not to make it too obvious that he's rubbing his elbow.

"James?" prompts Queen Ramonda, pointedly.

"The plantains are obviously great," Bucky grits out, as brightly as a person possibly can when their whole face remains in a determinedly distraught position.

Sam pushes some food around on his plate. Ramonda tilts her chin and takes a long drink of wine from her glass. T’Challa, clearing his throat lightly, opens his mouth –

"A lot of things in life should be obvious," Sam says, before he can stop himself.

King T'Challa's other eyebrow joins the first, and Ramonda pauses with her fork halfway to her mouth. Sam regrets every decision he's ever made as Bucky's bottom jaw drops open like a real life version of that dumb Pokémon meme Sarah's kids love so much.

"Obvious? We’re talking about a betrayal of trust here, Samuel." 

“I was encouraging your hobbies! That’s a thing good friends do!”

“You just sat there, and watched me – we had multi-national video calls with that fucking thing in the background –”

"It was a joke, man!" Sam splutters. He figures spluttering is a perfectly acceptable response to this. "I thought you'd have figured it out in like ten minutes! How did you not figure it out in like ten minutes!"

"That’s not the point!" Bucky says, crossing his arms and looking miserable. "No way! Six months! Six months. You watched me mist that thing for six months --"

“Excuse me for imagining that the most dangerous assassin of the twentieth century would’a noticed the physical makeup of a gag gift his dumbass friend bought him. I thought you were playing along!”

“For six months?!” Bucky says, now red around the ears. “God I can’t believe you. I can’t believe –”

“It was a funny joke. It was a funny joke, okay? I thought we were both in on the joke! You’re acting like I killed your cat or somethin’ –”

“Who also watched me mist that plant for six months!” says Bucky, more aggrieved now than ever. He waves one hand in the air in a very New York-flavoured gesture of emphasis; T’Challa visibly chokes over a bite of his appetizer and has to bring a napkin up to his face to hide it – “She probably thinks I’m some kinda giant idiot now –”

Which is just unfair, and Sam wishes more than ever he hadn't said anything in the first place but Bucky'd been so clearly concerned that he was leaving his slow-growing windowsill collection of plants unattended for more than twenty-four hours --

“Gentleman,” says the King, recovering from his recent brush with near-asphyxiation; his voice is slightly strained, though Sam can’t say that isn’t from the poorly concealed amusement dancing in his eyes. “Perhaps you would like to desist from airing out any embarrassing personal stories in the minutes before Shuri arrives to dinner.”

Sam’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click and Bucky’s eyes widen comically in alarm.

Ramonda says,

“Fa, you are not serious, I know what this must be. Mahlubandile. Surely this is not about the little plastic house plant that sits on your window ledge in calls.”

"What?" Bucky chokes.

She turns with regal innocence to Sam. “I see it every so often when he has conferences with Shuri or the Dora. I did not realize it was a gift, Captain. The pot is quite beautiful.”

There is a long moment of stunned silence that is only broken by T’Challa, when he gives up all pretense and begins laughing properly into his lap, his napkin held between pinched fingers against his forehead. Sam brings a slow hand up to hold against the bridge of his nose. Bucky looks nothing short of poleaxed.

This all happens just in time for Shuri to flounce into the room, out of breath and skidding.

“Sorry I am late, uMama! What have I missed?”

“Nothing important,” says Ramonda severely. “But really, Shuri, to work this late when we have guests. Tcha. Sit, and behave. Now, Captain, you were telling me about the food in Louisiana. I am sure it is most flavourful …”

**

Mahlubandile -- term of endearment; the clan has increased by one (affectionate)

[reidgraygubler]

sweet creature (wes/reader)pt 24

Title: Sweet Creature part 24 Couple: Wes/Fem!Reader Category: slowburn (will contain 18+ content) Content Warning: D/s dynamic, a pet passing, lmk if i missed anything Word Count: 1,932 Summary: Puppy’s having a rough day and takes advantage of a gift Wes got her. A/N: okay, y’all… it’s the kennel chapter. I hope this is what you were expecting/hoping for lmao. It’s not exactly super long. Just a filler for the most part. Also, please PLEASE skip this part of any sort of animal/pet death is a trigger/trauma for you. 

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I thought I was tough. I thought I had gotten roughed up enough, working as a vet tech, growing up with parents as vets, and being around animals my entire life. The hard spot should’ve grown by now. But today… Today was one of those days where the hard spot grew soft and my emotions were wild. 

I had woken up earlier than usual. We can blame that on Ollie literally throwing up right between me and Wes. It was only a couple hours before either of our alarms would go off, but it was early enough for us to be annoyed. Especially since we weren’t exactly expecting to have to clean up vomit at 4 in the morning. While I took care of Ollie, Wes cleaned up the mess and ran our laundry. We actually ended up taking Ollie into the clinic with us to keep a close eye on him.

But it felt like the day only went downhill from there. From the moment we stepped into the clinic, something felt… Off. I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it per se. I just knew that something was going to happen and I wasn’t exactly sure what it was or when it was going to happen. Something told me that Wes had that same feeling too.

It was rather unfortunate timing. We were nearing the end of the day. Cleaning up the last mess when a family of three came in with their dog. The father calmly explained what had happened to Wes while the mother was in frantics and the daughter was clearly distraught. Wes had Jessica take the mom and daughter to his office while he helped me bring the dog to an exam room. 

“Did you hear what happened?” I quietly asked, my eyes switching between looking up at Wes and down at the dog, who was clearly in pain. My whole entire body hurt as I looked at the dog.

“Babes,” Wes said softly, trying to get my attention back on him. My eyes flew up to meet his. I could tell in his eyes that something not good was about to come out of his mouth. “You should go tell the family they should come say goodbye,” he whispered as he looked down at the dog. I stared at him, shocked that he wasn’t even going to try.

“You’re… You’re not going to try?”

“I’m surprised she was alive when they brought her in. There was nothing I could do. And you know if I could do something I would do it,” he explained. I stared at him before swallowing roughly. 

“Y-yeah, yeah, I get that. I’ll go get them,” I said through a broken whisper. Wes looked at me as I turned to leave the room. 

Stupid family who got careless. That’s so dumb. How did they not see their dog escape? And how did they not see her when they were backing out? Fucking idiots. I just don’t understand how people can be so fucking careless.

Woah, okay, okay, calm down there. Like, seriously. There’s no need to yell at a family who is literally about to lose their pet, who was probably a part of the family. It was just a mistake, that’s all. Mistakes happen. They obviously didn’t mean for this to happen. 

I took a final deep breath as I stood outside the door of Wes’ office. When I pushed the door open, I was met with the grieving family. The daughter was sitting on the couch with Ollie’s head in her lap. I hated how the parents instantly looked at me, it was almost as if they knew what I was coming to say.

“Wes-Sorry. Doctor Taylor thinks you should come say good-bye,” I whispered as I looked at each person in the room. The daughter’s shoulders slumped slightly as she looked over at the dad. I just had to get through this part of the day, and then I can go home and just go to sleep. 

I hate this part of the job.

Once everything was said and done, I found myself sitting in the break room. A half eaten apple sat on the table in front of me. My appetite quickly ceased to exist the moment I took a bite from the fruit and tears rimmed my eyes. I should eat, really. I just… I just wanted to go home

Jessica stepped in, but the moment she saw I was having a breakdown she left. And then moments later, Wes stepped in and sat down across from me.

“Why don’t you take my car and Ollie and go back home? I know you’ve had a rough day,” Wes said, offering me his car keys. I stared at them for a moment before looking up at his face.

“How are you going to get home then?” I asked as I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. Wes stared at me and took my other hand into his, placing the keys into my palm.

“I’ll get an uber or get a ride of Jessica,” he explained as he pulled me closer to him. I pressed my face into his body and let out a soft sob. My chin pressed into his chest as I looked up at him.

“You wouldn’t actually get a ride with Jessie. She’d tourture you alive,” I whispered. Wes smiled softly before holding my face.

“I’ll live. Go home. If not for you, for me,” he said as he his thumb brushed away any tears on my cheeks. I stared at him and nodded, actually taking the keys from him.

“Okay. Fine,” I exasperated a sigh before stepping away from him. Wes quickly pulled me back into his arms and hugged me tight. 

“Sometimes shit gets tough, I’m sure you already knew that. So it’s okay to feel this way. I wouldn’t expect you to be okay or happy all the time. You’re allowed these feelings, Pup,” he whispered to me. I took a deep breath and nodded. “Go watch a movie or take a nap,” he quickly added. I nodded once again before parting ways with him. “Love you,” he said as I made it to the door. I swallowed roughly and looked over at him.

“Love you too,” I said with a fake smile. With one final breath of air, I stepped out of the break room and found my way back to Wes’ office. Ollie was lying on his couch, head resting on the arm rest. When I stepped in, Ollie stepped off the couch and prodded over to me, head low like he knew I was having a rough day. A soft breath of air fell from my mouth as I slowly melted to the ground. Ollie laid beside me, his head rested on my leg as I broke down. I’m sure Wes knew that I was probably having more of an episode in his office before I took off for the day. Surely he wouldn’t mind. 

When I was good and sure I was ready to leave, I did. Ollie being the best co-pilot a person could ask for, especially during the middle of a breakdown.

Sending her home was the best possible thing I could have done. She was already having a rough day as it was. A family’s pet dying was really the last thing we were expecting. I knew how hard it was for her. The day probably would have gone even further down hill had she stayed and worked. She needed the break. 

I knew when I sent her home that I’d be elbow deep in paperwork and that it’d probably be a late night. It’s probably a good thing that I’m my own boss and basically make my own rules. All this paperwork could wait for tomorrow or another day. I had people at home waiting for me and who needed me. 

So taking the executive decision, I packed all my things up, shoved my laptop and a couple folders into my bag, and took off… Only to wait for my Uber to show up. Then 15 minutes later I arrived home, my car in the driveway like I was expecting.

The first step into the house was eerily silent. I knew it’d be quiet and I was expecting Puppy and Ollie to be fast asleep in my room. And that’s where I went. The only thing that I wasn’t expecting was for Puppy to be napping in her kennel. I had just assumed she’d be curled up on the bed with Ollie cuddled up beside her. But instead the roles were reversed. She was fast asleep in the kennel and Ollie was taking the whole bed. 

I sighed deeply, looking at the exhausted girl, taking in how she was cuddling the silly little stuffed animal I had gotten her for her birthday, which at this point was months ago. It was probably a good thing that she was asleep. Her day has not been good. It wasn’t what she deserved.

I tried to be quiet as I kicked off my shoes and pushed them to the side. Ollie quickly noticed my presence and stood up, carefully making his way to the edge of the bed. I stopped my process of changing and gave a bit of attention to my boy before getting out of my scrubs. 

Ollie whined slightly, bothered that I had moved my attention to the girl on the floor. But he quickly fell silent when he watched me get on the floor and maneuver my way into the already small-ish kennel. The worry of him trying to slip in between us did cross my mind. But I think Puppy would be rather okay with the extra company and extra cuddles.

I struggled to get comfortable in the tight space. My biggest challenge was trying to not wake up the sleeper beside me. Unfortunately, I lost that challenge when she stirred and moved closer to me.

“Wes?” she asked, her voice a hushed whisper as she shot a hand to hold my arm. My shoulders slumped slightly as I looked down at her. Her eyes were cracked open and I could see the exhaustion and sadness settled in them. 

“Shh, go back to sleep,” I whispered as I stared at her. She hummed and allowed me to get comfortable beside her. I looked at her as she scooched closer to me. A soft chuckle came from me as I wrapped my arms around her and held her close to me.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked as she tilted her head up to look at me. My eyes met hers and I hated how much I could see how tired she looked. 

“I live here?”

“I mean in my kennel,” she clarified. I laughed and shook my head.

“You looked like you needed someone… And I didn’t want you to be alone,” I answered. She hummed and nodded as her head rested against my body.

“I think maybe you didn’t want to be alone,” she sighed. I didn’t even get the chance to respond before I heard the faintest of snores. I rolled my eyes as I squeezed her tight. 

She’s lucky I love her though. I don’t just crawl into anyone’s kennels to cuddle with them. 

Honestly, I’d do anything to protect this woman and keep her in my life for as long as I live.

part twenty-five