#Q is banned from the kitchen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thepixelelf · 2 years

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Pansy

Genres: fluff, angst, childhood friends au, neighbors au, brother’s best friend au Pairing: Reader & Dino (Seventeen) Words: 7.4k (00:30) Warnings: language, annoying older brother things. it's not mentioned, but reader and their brother are adoptive siblings Note: this is the svt version of a tbz Q fic I wrote almost 3 years ago, so just know my writing's changed a bit since

Over the years, you learned that being a Pansy wasn’t so bad.

Six

The swing set in your backyard, coupled with a bright yellow slide about twice your height, had to be your favourite place in the world. Your aunt — or maybe your uncle, you couldn’t remember — gave it to you and your older brother once her children had grown too big for it. The blue swing was yours, and the green swing was your brother’s, as it was bigger (according to him) and therefore he deserved it. Though, you were happy with having the blue swing, as it was something undeniably yours.

Which was why, coming home from the last day of kindergarten to your favourite place in the world, you were less than ecstatic to find some boy sitting in your swing.

Logan seemed to be doing his classic "swinging higher than mum or dad liked" move on his green swing. He was only eight, but he already liked going above and beyond. While he swung back and forth, your eyes studied the stranger in your spot.

He sat still in the swing, his feet planted firmly on the dirt underneath. The grass from before had been uprooted long ago from weeks of being kicked and stomped. His eyes were on yours as well, only fitting of a child seeing someone new for the first time.

"Who's this?" Normally you were quite good at meeting people; your parents complimented you on it much more than Logan, which you took almost too much pride in. But on that day, a stranger was sitting in the only place you knew was your own, and you were not happy about it.

"Chan," Logan answered, his voice warping as he swung high above you. "He's from the new family across the road."

The house across the road had been empty for a while, but a few weeks ago, two moving vans filled the street and loud noises interrupted your tea party. You knew they had a kid, you just weren't expecting Logan to befriend him so quickly, especially since he only had two friends at school. Maybe your mom made him go over with her and dad to greet the new family with over-baked chocolate chip cookies, just as they did with every new neighbor.

"He's on my swing," was all you said, as you weren't ready to confront the new boy — Chan, just yet. It may have been your swing, but Chan could've been like the boys at school, and confronting them was never a good idea.

"That's not your swing, that's my swing."

"No, your swing is the green one and mine is the blue one! Why do you get two swings anyway?!" You stomped your little feet beneath you in protest, hands on your hips and cheeks puffed out.

"'Cause I'm older, pansy."

Logan had been calling you pansy ever since he learned the word because your parents would always chide him for calling you "stupid" or "idiot". You thought pansy was a lot worse, though. You were no pansy.

"You're only two years older dummy!" You stomped off into the house, ready to tattle to the first parent you saw.

"Hey!" Logan yelled after you. "Dummy is a banned word, pansy!"

•

For the first week of Logan and Chan's friendship, Chan thought your name was Pansy.

The first time he called you that, you were beyond shocked. Who was he, the new kid, to call you a pansy? You ignored him, turning up your nose and walking away. As if you were going to interact with some swing-stealer.

He only learned your real name when your mom had called you all in for dinner. You were sitting at the top of the slide, waiting patiently for a turn on your swing. (Which you never got all week.) She yelled both you and your brother’s names out through the screened windows from the kitchen, beckoning you inside for chicken curry and rice. "You're welcome to join us, Chan, but make sure you ask your folks first."

Chan looked to Logan, who had jumped off his swing and landed mightily on the grass. "Who's that?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"The other name she yelled," Chan clarified. "And she didn't say Pansy's name, either."

It took Logan much less time than you to figure out what he meant, so you stayed quiet when Logan burst out laughing.

"That's not their name! It's what you call somebody who's a..." Logan paused as he put an arm over Chan's shoulders and led him into the house, snapping his fingers when he finally found the word. "...a coward!"

Chan didn't stay for dinner. And Logan somehow got curry all over his shirt.

Seven

Chan turned out to be the same age as you, which you only figured out once he transferred into your first-grade class. Apparently, the private school he was going to before didn't fit his parents' standards. Though, you never understood why your regular public school was any better, other than maybe the fact that it was only a two-minute walk from your houses.

Even though he was your age, he joined in on calling you a pansy.

Since Logan had started using the word as punctuation more than an actual insult, you'd begun to desensitize, yet Chan saying it gave the word more sting. You never did anything to him, so you wondered why he would ever call you that. Your parents always said that Logan used the word because he was your brother, so what was Chan's excuse?

He started coming over every afternoon, once school let out for the day, so you'd been relegated to using your swing at nighttime, when the stars twinkled and the bugs serenaded each other. It was peaceful, nice even, but cold and lonely.

"Chan here says you two are neighbors," Miss Ossen said in her sing-song elementary teacher voice "Why don't you show him around the playground, hm? Ask him what he likes to do."

It was Chan's second day at your school. On his first day, Logan's third-grade class had gone on a field trip to some botanical garden, so he had no one to play with during recess, but you knew that today he'd surely find Logan and cling onto him like a leech. He didn't need your help.

"He likes swings, Miss O," you said with a huff. "Blue swings."

You got in trouble for being rude to a classmate.

Ten

The first time you thought you might be a pansy was fourth grade, when you found out you were afraid of heights.

The whole class was playing grounders with a few of the sixth graders, a game where one person had their eyes shut and everyone else had to avoid them. At. All. Costs. (According to the sixth graders.) Chan was 'it' and had you trapped in a corner along with another classmate, but they ran and took the only hiding spot. Your only choice — other than being tagged — was climbing the playground equipment and hanging off the edge. You'd never done it before, but you'd seen Logan and Chan do it plenty of times. If they could do it, surely you could too, you thought. But when you climbed over the railing, you realized how far up you really were. The sand blurred beneath you, and you screamed, making Chan open his eyes in shock.

"What's wrong?"

You didn't answer, just screwed your eyes shut as sobs began to rack from your chest. Your grip on the playground equipment tightened more, if possible, as you tucked your head in. The world blurred around you as you drowned it out, focusing only on your grip and the blooming colors behind your eyelids.

You don't remember exactly what happened, but you have a faint memory of Logan and Chan pulling you over the railing.

"Why'd you go up there, stupid?!" Logan chastised.

You didn't have enough air in your lungs to complain about his use of a banned word, so you only crouched down and cried as they watched.

"Don't cry," Logan mumbled, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pockets. He wouldn't look at you, instead, his eyes skirted everywhere else. "You're such a pansy."

Through squinted, blurry eyes, you looked up at your brother and Chan, who was standing awkwardly in front of you. His fingers kept twitching as his arms laid limp at his sides, but he made no move to comfort you. All you could do was cry until the bell rang a minute later.

That afternoon, once you all walked home, Chan told Logan he wanted to play games inside, so you went to the backyard and sat on your swing. Maybe you were a pansy after all.

Eleven

After Logan moved on to middle school, Chan was left behind without his older friends, but he seemed to have no trouble becoming friendly with the boys in your class. Though, he was always closest with Logan. School ended earlier for him than you and Chan, so you'd find him already in the backyard every day after you'd walked home.

You sat at the top of the yellow slide as Logan and Chan swung back and forth, braiding too-big flower crowns out of the backyard's abundance of dandelions. The first one was much too big for your head, so you made it a necklace instead.

It'd become a sort of daily tradition. The boys on the swings and you atop the wooden platform the slide came off of. Your time on your swing came when Chan would leave for the night, and you were fine with that. He was Logan's friend, and yours too, you supposed, so there was no point in arguing over it. Besides, he let you take it if you really wanted — despite Logan's adamant attitude about older-brother-ness and superiority or whatever.

"What are the older kids like?" Chan asked, his feet uprooting the grass as he abruptly stopped swinging.

Logan kept swinging, unbothered. "Tall. But mum said I'll be that tall when I grow up, too."

You often wondered why Logan chose to be best friends with Chan rather than other boys his age, as well as the other way around, but over the years, you realized they were, in a way, meant for each other. Logan was loud and overbearing, and while Chan wasn’t necessarily shy, he would often keep quiet if he thought it’d help others, even if it hurt him. When they were together,though, Logan became a good listener (to Chan, at least) and Chan plucked up courage from seemingly nowhere. Each brought out the good in the other. Maybe not the best, as Logan still wouldn't listen to you — or anyone else for that matter — and Chan wouldn’t dare to stand up for himself if Logan wasn't around, but still, good.

Chan asked a lot about junior high, even though Logan had only been there for less than a year. At the dinner table, Logan would always tell your parents that it was no different from elementary — that he was handling it perfectly, especially science, but he talked about it completely differently with Chan. Like it was a whole new adventure, but still, nothing to be scared of.

"How tall?"

"Taller than me, so way taller than you," Logan said casually as he kept swinging. He was almost too big for the swing, you thought. Maybe it was the feeling that came with the swingset that kept him going, not the comfort of the swing itself.

"Logan," you cut into their conversation, holding up a completed flower crown — the first one actually crown-sized.

Your brother scrunched his nose, eyes thinning, and you dropped your hands to your lap. "Ew, I don't want that. It'll make me look like a pansy."

The pout on your lips was much too evident for your liking.

"Give it to Chan," Logan compromised. "He likes flowers."

You held up the flower crown in front of you again, asking Chan with your eyes if he wanted it. He seemed almost panicked when he sent some sort of look to Logan, but eventually, he gave you a slow, hesitant nod. At that, you went down the yellow slide (which was much more exhilarating when you were three feet tall) and walked over to where he sat on your swing.

He looked up at you as you approached, and you swore you could see the whole sky reflected on his eyes, clouds and all. The yellow dandelions looked great against his soft hair; you were almost jealous. Once you'd placed it on his head, you'd planned to go back to where you were, but for some reason, you stayed standing in front of Chan. Entranced.

"See?" Logan pulled you back to your senses. "It looks good on him. You wouldn't like it on me."

You didn't see that Chan was still staring.

Thirteen

Logan stopped swinging. Now, in the afternoon, after all of you walked home together, he and Chan would take over the living room and play video games. Or sometimes, they'd take various balls from the garage and bring them to the park. Either way, you finally had your swing back during daylight. Though it wasn't as fun without Logan or Chan around, you still swung as high as possible, getting closer and closer to the sun's kisses.

You weren't in the same homeroom as Chan, so you only shared one class together that year — math. There were things he understood that you didn't, and things you understood that he didn't. You helped each other out, but that was the extent of your relationship on school grounds. Your friends always asked why Chan called you "Pansy" when you passed each other in the halls, but you never had a real answer. He just did.

He meant no malice behind it. That's just what he called you.

Even Logan had stopped calling you a pansy, but to Chan, you guessed it just stuck. Not a pansy, but Pansy. You never asked him why he still called you that; for some reason, you just didn't feel the need to.

On a particularly sunny Wednesday, Logan stayed home sick, all whiny and annoying even though it was just a cold. You and Chan walked home together, just the two of you, for the first time since last year. The walk was silent, but not uncomfortable.

As soon as you reached the house, Chan immediately went up to Logan's room, but he was kicked out by your mother.

"I can't have two sick young boys in my house," she said. "The whole neighborhood will get infected."

He joined you outside in the backyard with a simple explanation. "My parents aren't home yet and I don't have a key."

Neither of you used the swings the way they were supposed to be used that day; just sat and conversed; caught up with each other. Somehow, even though you saw him every day, you'd never talked to him like this before. You barely even know what you talked about, but you spent hours that day just… with him and nothing but him.

His parents were home long before he returned.

Fifteen

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

You looked at the people around you, all of them sitting in a circle on some classmate's living room floor. The half-empty bottle of soda that you'd just spun pointed straight at Chan.

"...I thought this was truth or dare," you said, confusion clear in your voice.

Everyone, except Chan of course, looked at you as if you were crazy (you did just spin a bottle, after all) then went back to chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

"Fine!" You only raised your voice to shut everyone up — if that classmate's parents heard, you'd be embarrassed past mars — but maybe you sounded a bit angry. Getting on your hands and knees to cross the circle, you grasped Chan's chin and turned his head to the side, planting a quick, almost nonexistent kiss on his cheek. That might have been the fastest you'd ever done something. If there were races like that at the Olympics, you'd win every event.

On a late Friday night in a house you don't remember the owner of, you gave your first kiss. (On the cheek.)

On a late Friday night in a house he'll never forget, Chan received his first kiss. (On the cheek.)

Sixteen

You didn't know why, but Logan and Chan were incommunicado.

When you asked your mother about it, she simply said she'd heard them arguing while you were out, but she couldn't figure out exactly what they were saying. Apparently, Logan had pushed Chan all the way out of the house and slammed the door in his face.

Logan wouldn't answer you, not clearly anyway, when you asked after a whole week of radio silence.

"You're not allowed to worry about it," he told you. "And you're not allowed to talk to Chan either. You're on my side this time — you know, blood before hoes or something."

"That's not even close."

•

You totally went against what Logan said (but when did you ever listen to him anyway?) and knocked on Chan's bedroom door that night.

Judging by his facial expression, he wasn't expecting you at all, though you supposed showing up like that was quite out of the blue.

"Oh, Pansy… um, come in." He opened the door and gestured behind him into the room, but when he did, his eyes widened and he immediately slammed it shut. From behind the door, he raised his voice, "Give me a minute! Maybe five!"

Four minutes later, he invited you in for real.

You sat down in the chair he had for his desk, pulling your legs up to sit in a way the chair was clearly not made for. "So… what's up with you and Logan?"

You never saw the point in pussyfooting around what you wanted to talk about.

Chan stood by the door after closing it, seemingly feeling too awkward to sit with you. Maybe it was because of the topic or maybe it was because this would be your first time in his room, either way, his awkward tension was almost making you feel uncomfortable yourself.

"...You noticed?"

"How could I not notice? You haven't come over in a week, and that hasn't happened since you caught the flu in sixth grade."

"Right…"

The last time Chan looked this awkward around you was within the first few months of meeting, so you had no idea what was making him so tense now — ten years later.

"Sit down," you said, pointing at his gray sheets. "This isn't an interrogation, chill out."

Once he sat — though still stiff — you asked again, “Alright, give it up, what’s the deal? Logan won’t tell me anything.”

“I thought you said this wasn’t an interrogation,” Chan whined.

“It’s not. It’s not, I swear.” You shifted in the chair, not sure how to position yourself comfortably in the new environment. “I just want to know why you two fought, or, I guess, why you’re still fighting. Logan’s really sad about it, trust me. I offered him a peanut butter cup yesterday, and he refused! Can you believe that?!”

“Really?”

“Really!” Logan loved peanut butter cups more than he loved physics, and that said a lot for a nerd like him. “And! A few days ago he got accepted into his first-choice university — the one downtown, but when mum and dad suggested we go out with your family to celebrate, he shut himself in his room!”

Chan seemed to relax and tense up at the same time if that were possible. It was almost as if he was glad Logan wasn’t taking any of his anger out on anyone, but also feeling guilty for fighting in the first place.

"What did he do? Did his friends make fun of your dancing again? Because I swear to god—"

"No!" he interrupted, then cleared his throat. "No, he didn't do anything wrong. It was my fault."

You clicked your tongue. Chan was never at fault; it was always Logan and his big mouth.

"Oh come on, Chan. I've literally never seen you be the stupid one when you guys fight. You don't have to protect Logan all the time."

He wasn't looking at you, but his hands instead. They fiddled with each other in his lap, picking at his nails or rubbing his knuckles. "It really is my fault…"

"Oh." The air in his room was suddenly stale. "What happened?"

There was a silence, one that made you want to curl up into yourself and disappear. It felt as if you were intruding on something you shouldn't have. And even then, you still had no idea what was going on.

After a moment, Chan didn't answer your question but asked one instead. "You really love Logan, don't you?"

You were caught off guard by his words. It wasn't, "do you love your brother," but, "I know you love your brother, will you admit it?"

And the truth was, you didn't know how you really felt about Logan. He was annoying, egotistical, obnoxious, but he was also ambitious, self-confident, not afraid to say what he's thinking. Sometimes you were jealous of him, of people like him, because there were times you too wanted to yell at the top of your lungs or pursue your dreams without caring what other people think. He may have been overbearing, but he brought out the voices in others.

"Nah," you finally answered. "There's no way I'd love that idiot."

Chan breathed a heavy sigh. He knew you were lying. "That's the problem."

"What's the problem?"

"Nothing, nothing." He stood from the bed and walked over to the door, opening it. "You should go. Logan and I will figure this out."

•

They figured things out. You weren't a part of it, but they did.

After that, Chan didn't talk to you.

He stopped helping you with math or saying hi when you passed each other in the halls. He stopped greeting you when he and Logan were in the living room and you'd walk through to the kitchen for a snack. He stopped that small smile he always made when you met his eyes, and instead kept looking away as fast as he could.

You wanted to ask, to complain, but you never found the right timing. Chan wouldn't even look in your general direction, and Logan would avoid the topic like the plague.

Months passed, and you still couldn't figure it out. What did you ever do so wrong?

Both swings were much too small for you now, but that didn't deter you. The cool night air sent pinpricks to your cheeks. It felt like a slap to the face, the way it stung, though you didn't mind. You sat in the blue swing, pushing your feet against the dirt and going back and forth only a foot or two, thinking about what had brought you here. A dandelion flower crown sat atop your head, and another hung around your wrist.

Voices came from inside the house when the back door opened, and Logan walked out, Chan in tow. They made it halfway to the garage — both of them skillfully avoiding eye contact with you — before Logan patted both of his back pockets and cursed.

"I left my keys somewhere. Wait here."

He ran back into the house, leaving Chan to stand alone in the middle of your backyard. You watched as he stared at his shoes, stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets, kicked around stray leaves. He wouldn't look at you.

"Chan."

He tensed but didn't look up.

"Chan."

He sighed and turned to face you. His actions told you he was angry, but his face said differently. He looked scared. Afraid. But of what?

"Come here."

His steps were slow and careful, but he eventually made his way in front of you, about a foot away. You gestured for him to lean down, and he did, before placing your second flower crown on his head. His eyes widened as he straightened back up, his hands going up to inspect what you'd done. He ran his fingers delicately over the dandelions.

You smiled. A tired, but happy smile. "Yeah… these always looked better on you, didn't they?"

"I—"

"Did I do something?" Tears pricked at the back of your eyes, but you held them back. "I can't help but think I did something, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what."

He took half a step closer. "No, no don't say that. You didn't do anything."

"Then what happened?"

"I…" His explanation faded away as he came even closer, both hands on the chains of your swing. Your faces were so close that you could see the imperfections in his skin; the acne from growing up, the spots from his days in the sun. His eyes glistened, though you didn't know why. Shouldn't you be the one crying?

You thought he might continue, but he only gulped. He adjusted his grip on the chains, eyes moving from yours to your lips and back again. For a second — just a second — you thought he might kiss you.

Stupid.

He stepped away too quickly for you to comprehend and took off the flower crown, putting it on your head so you wore two. Logan stepped out and found Chan already on his way to the garage, with you staring at him open-mouthed.

The tears that you'd worked hard to keep away finally spilled over your cheeks. You didn't stop them.

As Logan pulled out of the garage, Chan caught one last glance at you sitting on your blue swing, two flower crowns on your lowered head.

He never meant to make you cry.

Seventeen

"You're in group six, so go wait by the…" Your Leadership Strategies teacher squinted at her clipboard. "By the volleyball nets."

Your school was hosting some sort of event for children around eight to ten, with random games and snacks in and outside the school's gymnasium. It was a huge thing that happened every year, but this was the first time you'd volunteered — well, it was for a class, so maybe not "volunteered" per se.

The volleyball nets were in the corner of the gym, tucked away for the offseason. You could already see a group of kids waiting around there with another student volunteer.

Chan.

You sucked in a breath, pausing in the middle of the gym. He and you hadn't said anything to each other since that night almost a year ago. But that shouldn't have made you so hesitant. You were a strong person, you liked to think, so this really shouldn't have affected you as much as it did — and for so long. Chan must have been past it by now, and there was no way you'd lose to him like that.

Raising your chin, you walked to the group.

If Chan was surprised about being partnered with you, he didn't show it. He gathered all the kids in a circle and sat down with them without so much as batting you an eye. His eyes shone as he talked to the children, and his bright smile never left his lips.

Okay. So you might lose to him like that.

You cleared your throat and looked at the instructions your teacher had given you. Introductions first.

"Okay, kids! Let's go around the circle and introduce ourselves," you said cheerfully. "Just tell everyone your name and…" you glanced at the instructions, "your favorite flower."

As an example, you told them your name and thought for a second. A certain soft-haired boy wearing a certain yellow flower on his head popped into your head. "...Dandelions. My favorite flowers are dandelions."

They went around saying their names and their favorite flowers like daisies or roses or sunflowers, when finally, halfway through, Chan was next.

"I'm Chan," he said, still smiling at the kids. "And my favorite flower? Hmmm…"

From across the circle, he met your eyes.

"Pansies. I've always loved pansies."

•

"Logan?"

"Hm?"

You looked at yourself in the mirror, the one on the closet by your front door, wondering if what you wore was good enough for the get-together you were going to tonight.

"If I ever had a boyfriend and they broke up with me, would you beat them up?"

Logan looked up from the book he was reading, an eyebrow quirked. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No. I'm saying: if I did, would you?"

He closed the book and took off his reading glasses. "Dude, I'm five-seven and a hundred twenty pounds — I'm not beating anyone up anytime soon."

"Pfft, nerd."

"Besides," he said, standing up and walking to the fridge. "You're not gonna get a boyfriend while I'm around."

Your bottom lip jutted out. Rude. "Why not?"

With a glass of juice in his hand, he walked up to you on the way to his room and looked you up and down. "Uh, because you're ugly? The fuck kinda question…?"

•

The get together wasn't the most amazing party you'd ever been to, but it was nice seeing everyone and hanging out without the premise of a study session.

When you got home, the clock in your room read 10:38, though since it was about an hour slow, you knew it was really almost midnight. No one else was home; your parents had gone out for the weekend for their anniversary (gag) and your brother left earlier to stay with one of his university friends — he said it was to study for an upcoming engineering exam, but you didn't really believe him.

You changed out of your clothes and into pajamas, brushed your teeth, and you were about to get in bed when the doorbell rang.

In the back of your brain, the thought that, hey, there's literally no salesperson that would go door to door at midnight, crossed your mind, but maybe you were a bit too tired to also think, this could definitely be a serial killer. So you swung the door open.

"The sign says no soliciting—"

Chan stood on your doormat, head down and hands in his jeans pockets. He looked up when you opened the door, and you immediately noticed the red around his eyes, the tears brimming just behind his eyelids.

"Oh my god," you breathed, taking in the sight of him. "Oh my god, Chan, what happened? I mean, come in, come in."

You backed away from the door, giving him room to walk in, but he didn't move.

"Is…" he choked out, "is Logan home?"

"He's at a friend's place."

A stagnant silence filled the air between you.

You'd seen Chan cry plenty of times, sure, but all those times were from years ago; over spilled milk. One of his toy cars had lost a wheel. Or he dropped his multiplication table homework in a puddle. But this? You'd never had to deal with this before.

"I'll just… I'll just go," Chan said, turning, but you took one step outside in your bare feet and gently wrapped a hand around his arm.

"No, come in. I'll make you some tea."

Chan sat on the couch as you walked to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. As you waited for it to boil, you pulled out your phone to text Logan.

Chan's here and he's not looking too good. Come home ASAP

You didn't bother to wait for a response.

"Here." You set his mug on the coffee table in front of him and joined him on the couch, keeping a safe distance. After such a long time of only being the 'best friend's little sibling', you weren't sure what boundaries were set between the two of you.

The air felt stiff and cold as you sat there without anything to say. Only the sounds of the house creaking and Chan's occasional sniffles could be heard for several minutes, but you still kept your mouth shut. Chan didn't want your help, he wanted Logan's.

Eventually, though, he spoke.

"Can I tell you something?"

You nearly choked on your tea, but you caught yourself and placed your mug on the coffee table. "Of course."

He kept his eyes on his hands, which were clasped in front of him on his lap, though it didn't take away from his sincerity.

"You never laughed when I said I wanted to be a dancer. Everyone else… they don't believe me the first time I tell them, and then when I say I'm serious, they laugh. I know they try to hide it, but it doesn't work. Nobody's ever believed that I'll make it. Or that it's a good idea. Everyone says it unrealistic— that I should go into business, or science. Or just get a desk job. You never did that though. Thanks."

When he finally looked at you, his close-lipped smile was wide, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Oh Chan," you whined, finally breaking. You may not have spoken to each other for almost a year, but you still cared about him. Seeing him in pain still broke your heart.

Despite the boundaries you'd made up, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, gently putting one hand on the back of his head and pulling him into a hug. He stiffened but relaxed within a moment, letting his forehead fall to the juncture between your shoulder and your neck.

"What happened?"

With a heavy sigh, he shivered in your arms. "Nothing happened. I just realized how stupid my dream was."

Was. Not is.

"Chan…" you started, holding back tears. This was when you needed to be strong. "Your dream isn't stupid. It never was."

You could feel his shaky breath on your skin. Two hands slowly snaked their way around your waist, pulling you closer. If this was any other situation, your heart may have fluttered, but this wasn't about warm touches, or skin contact, or crushes. This was about a person who needed you and what you were willing to give. Chan was sinking, and you didn't know if you were strong enough to bring him back up again.

"Most— most people give up on their dreams, Chan. They give up earlier in their lives and they're just… jealous— envious. They want to follow their 'stupid' and 'unrealistic' dreams just as much as you do, but they've already given up, and they're upset that you haven't given up too." You ran your thumbs back and forth on his scalp and his back, hopefully in a comforting way. "I want you to follow your dreams, Chan— to achieve them. You're stronger than the rest of us. Show us how it's done. Give us hope that dreams aren't dead… because I know you can. And you will."

He pulled away.

Your shoulder felt cold with his tears left behind, and you feared you said something wrong. Did you offend him in some way? Were you being insensitive? Was—

"Thanks," he said, laughing lightly as he leaned back into the couch, hands returning to clasp each other in his lap. "I… really needed to hear that."

"Oh…" Relief flowed through you like a stream, slow but sure, as you sank back to sitting regularly, this time much closer to his side than before.

He wiped the remaining tears from his eyes, then turned to you, his face much closer than it had been in a while. "There's just one thing, though."

You furrowed your brows and pursed your lips, trying to figure out what else he was upset about, but you came up with nothing. He didn't seem that distraught over it.

"A dream," he answered your silent question. "But I had to give up on it a couple years ago."

"What…" you stumbled over your own words when he moved his entire body to face you, and you unconsciously did the same, "...what dream?"

His hand reached up to your cheek, grazing your skin with the touch of a butterfly's wing; there, but so light, you'd think it was a dream if you weren't watching it with your own eyes. You saw his eyes flicking back and forth all over your face — at your eyes, your cheeks, your lips.

You wanted to ask him again — what his dream was — but he leaned in.

And maybe you leaned in too.

The kiss was slow, shaky, unsure, as if the slightest misstep could destroy you both. You supposed it might, with the minefield that had been your relationship until now, but the feeling of his lips against yours, of his fingers landing on the skin behind your ears, of his thumb grazing your cheek, they all pulled you into a whirlpool you had no intention of escaping.

You kissed him back slowly — with everything that you'd missed saying over the past decade, but after a moment, he retreated.

Your lips followed him unconsciously, but when they couldn't find his, you opened your eyes. He sat there, looking at you with tears about to spill.

"I'm sorry," he nearly sobbed, bringing his hands up to wipe the oncoming tears. "I'm sorry, I just… I've wanted to… for so long… I—"

You slipped your hands under his to cup his cheeks and raised his head so you could look him in the eyes. Tears of your own started to fall, but that wasn't your main priority at the moment. You smiled. It was easy, yet so difficult at the same time, but you smiled.

"Me too, Chan. Me too."

He broke, his face crumpling before he tackled you. Your back hit the couch cushions and you laughed at his desperation. He looked as if you'd shattered and blown away, but you were there.

You were there.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, arms around your waist and chest laying on yours. When he raised his head, his tears had ceased again, and despite the red of his eyes, the puffiness, the streaks down his face from crying, he looked happy. Elated. In…

In love. Maybe.

You wondered if your eyes reflected his, shiny and bright.

"Pansy?" Chan whispered, his lips almost touching yours as it was.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

"Okay."

It was messy, full of tears, past midnight, and on your living room couch when you shared your first kiss with the boy you loved, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Well, except for how it ended.

Logan slammed the front door shut when he came in, the view of you and Chan on the couch clear as day from where he stood. He stormed in and pulled Chan off you before you even knew what happening, throwing him to the floor.

"This better be a fucking hallucination, Chan," he growled. "This better be a fucking mirage because I did not just fucking see you making out with my little— agh!" He rubbed the palms of his hands in his eye sockets. "I don't even want to fucking think about it."

"Please— wait, I can explain—"

"I don't want your explanations! I don't need them! This was exactly what we agreed wouldn't happen, and look what you go fucking do."

Logan pointed a finger at you, but you were still frozen. You had no idea what the hell was going on. What they agreed wouldn't happen? You?

"I just—"

"No, you don't get to say anything right now. Get out."

"I—"

"OUT!"

Chan stood, and when he went to leave, he reached to touch you, to reassure you somehow that things would be okay, but Logan swiped his hand away. "Don't you fucking dare."

From the look in his eyes, you knew Chan wanted nothing more than to stay, but you doubted either of you had any say in the matter.

Chan left without another word.

"...Logan," you said after a moment.

"No."

He walked out the door again, and you ran to the windows to make sure he was driving off — instead of going to Chan's house and finishing what he started.

An Hour Before Eighteen

Logan came home late the next day, immediately going straight to his room. You got up from where you waited at the kitchen table and followed.

The door creaked when you pushed it open. "Logan—"

"Out," he said without looking up from his desk.

"No, it's my turn to talk now."

He sighed. As your brother, he knew you weren't backing down. Not this time.

"Fine. Talk away."

You sat down on his bed, which was covered in laundry he had yet to put away and homework he had yet to finish. "What happened yesterday? And don't tell me it's regular older brother stuff because I know it's not."

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

"I deserve an explanation."

"You don't deserve anything." He finally looked up from whatever he was doing to face you. "This is between me and Chan."

"But it's not anymore. It's between you and Chan and me, ever since last night. And if you don't tell me anything, then I'm going to Chan."

"Oh, and what? You’ll start dating him?" He scoffed. "Do you know how bad of an idea that is?"

At your look of confusion, he scoffed again.

"What happens if you fight, huh? If you break up? Our families have been friends since I was eight. If you get all your stupid relationship problems mixed up in that, the whole thing will fall apart. If you fight, whose side am I supposed to take? Yours? Or my best friend's?"

"...You sound like you've thought about this a lot," you said, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, well Chan's basically been in love with you since that stupid flower crown thing you did. I've had a long time to overthink."

"He has?"

Logan swivelled in his chair, back to half-heartedly writing in his notebook. "Don't act like you don't know. He did a terrible job of hiding it."

"I really didn't," you mumbled. "He didn't talk to me for like… a year."

"That was me, not him. Trust me, he wanted to talk to you."

For a while, you sat in silence. The only sound was Logan's pencil scratching on the paper.

"Fine! Whatever!" he finally exploded. "Go to your prince charming, I don't care anymore!"

A Few Minutes Before Eighteen

Chan's mother answered the door and rushed you to his room, complaining that he hadn't come out all day.

You didn't bother knocking, instead just opening the door and walking in. "Chan…?"

A mass under a bundle of blankets on the bed moved at the sound of your voice, and Chan's head poked out. He gasped when he saw you, eyes wandering all over as if to make certain you were actually there in front of him. You smiled and walked forward, crawling onto the bed, to which he threw off the blankets and gathered you in his arms.

"Oh my god," he breathed, squeezing you even harder. "Oh my god."

"Hi."

"Hi." He sounded breathless. Like he could break any second.

"Don't cry again," you said. "It's a happy hug this time."

He nodded, but you could tell with his face tucked in the crook of your neck that he was this close to crying anyways. You stayed like that for a moment, you in his lap with your arms around each other, his face in your neck and your chin on his shoulder.

"...What did Logan say?" Chan finally asked.

"Something along the lines of… 'You two are so disgustingly cute and romantic that it'd be more of a pain to keep you apart than let you be together.'"

You felt the vibrations of Chan's laughter through your body, and you couldn't help but join in.

"Besides, I'm turning eighteen in a minute. Logan won't have any say anymore — not that I ever thought he did."

"Hmm," Chan hummed into your skin. Perhaps he wasn't quite listening to you, getting lost in the feeling of you in his arms instead. You were starting to drift a bit too.

"There's something I want for my birthday."

"What's that?"

Eighteen

"I love you."

You couldn't see his face, but you knew he was smiling too.

"I love you too, Pansy."

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #dino scenarios #dino imagines #dino x reader #lee chan scenarios #lee chan imagines #lee chan x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #.100 #.200 #.300 #.400

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pluttskutt · 2 years

Text

Okay, so, here’s the thing. Eddie knows trans people. Wait, that sounds bigoted. He has friends who are trans. Queer. Not queer because they are trans but because they identify as trans and queer. Off-topic, doesn’t matter, okay. The point is that Eddie is rollin’ with the LGBT. Not just rollin’ but identifies as gay. A homosexual. Throughout his life he’s had many identifiers—some granted to him by others such as freak—and he’s proud to be who is, which also happens to be gay so he’s proud and out. Always has been. That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s always successful in his pursuits of finding true love or whatever the kids are calling it but he’s out there and he’s doing it.

Except for those rare times he falls so hard for someone it makes him a blabbering idiot and he loses every ounce of self-respect in futile attempts at making them see him because honestly, he’s pretty invisible to the guys he falls for. It sucks, but he can’t change his type and during those times he’s not doing much of anything except pining like a lovestruck puppy.

So, Eddie knows guys. The T and the B and the P and the Q and even the A. You’d think he’s golden then, right? He’s been with guys and others so he knows his way around the letter mafia. Maybe he would be golden if it just wasn’t for that pesky little detail of acting like a fool at any given moment. Like being caught staring at Steve’s chest when he’s wearing a hoodie because he’s not binding and Eddie can’t decide if it’s curiosity or horniness that makes him stare.

(This is a lie. He knows he wants to grab Steve by the counter and do things friends shouldn’t be thinking about doing to each other. Or have Steve do it to him. He’s flexible.)

Robin elbows him in the side whenever he stares, sending him a stare so cold it sends chills down his spine. “Stop being so weird around him or I’m banning you from our game nights. Man, seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

A lot, he wants to reply, but also nothing. So he stays silent, and he thanks Steve for his hospitality and food, and he wrecks them both in Mario Kart because they suck, which is astonishing because they’ve been having game nights since before he got invited.

It’s over too quickly. The match, snacks, the drinks, the night, and he has to leave with Robin because she can’t drive and they won’t let her walk home alone when it’s dark out. He helps clean up while she vanishes into the bathroom and hopes that maybe this is the night he has the guts to ask Steve if they can meet just the two of them and hang out (go on a date) but it never is and he beats himself up over it and tells himself that next time, for sure, but he doesn’t ask and doubts he ever will.

What Eddie knows, he knows well.

But Eddie hasn’t ever asked out an autistic guy before and he’s honestly afraid to do so. Sensory issues are a big part of what’s difficult for autistic people, he knows that much, and he also knows he’s a lot. He’s been told as much by guys he’s dated in the past and most of the time, his a lot is what made them end it. Talking, drama, clinginess, just too much.

“Thanks for the help,” Steve says, not looking at him but at the dishes he’s washing in the sink.

He’s so quiet it’s driving Eddie insane, which is why he can’t ask him out because he’d talk his ear off and cause him to have a meltdown because of sensory overload. Yes, Eddie read up about those. “I heard Robin won’t be here next weekend,” he says, a futile attempt at conversing. As soon as the game vanishes so does their topic of conversation.

“Mmh,” Steve grunts.

Eddie wants to scream. He’s begging the hamster doing all the legwork in his brain on that spinning wheel to think of anything to talk about but he comes up empty.

“She’s visiting her parents and I think she said she’ll be gone a week,” Steve says, just as the silence had taken over the room. He wipes his hand on the kitchen towel, lips narrowed and a scowl on his face like he’s thinking about something bothersome.

“Mhm.” Eddie pushes his hair away from his face and sticks it behind an ear, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks at Steve, watching him as he puts away the garbage from their night. “I’ll take-“

“Do you want-“

They both stop talking, watching the other. Steve smiles and brushes a hand through his hair, which he really shouldn’t have since he just tied a knot on the garbage bag. “You go first,” he says when it’s obvious neither of them dares to go first in case they cut the other off again.

Eddie takes a step closer and grabs the bag. “I’ll take that.” He walks over to the front door because the water is running in the bathroom and Robin’s one second away from joining them and wanting to leave before she falls asleep on the sofa. It’s happened once or twice. He’s pretty sure game nights turned into sleepovers regularly before he joined them.

He looks at Steve and catches his eyes before he averts them. They’re pretty to look at, but Eddie doesn’t get the chance to look into them a lot. Eye contact is difficult for Steve and he doesn’t want to push it. “You up for grabbing lunch then? I know it’s not game night but it can still be fun.”

“Yes,” Steve answers, voice certain and tone steady. He’s nodding with a smile, and Eddie wants to believe he wanted him to ask.

#steddie #trans steve harrington #autistic steve harrington #ficlet #steve x eddie #ninni writes steddie

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catgirltitty · 1 year

Text

MOCHA'S BEST STREAM

Mocha starts her weekly stream like usual, but a wardrobe malfunction arouses her viewers' curiosity!

[breast expansion, lactation, milking, furry]

“Meowdy gamers! I’m Mocha, and this is The Mo-Show! I’m gonna jump in and play some Shaftcraft, today I thought I’d just chill and answer some Q&A while I work on my zombie farm.”

Mocha eyed her setup, making sure everything was perfect. The half-cat, half-cowgirl had soft, cream-colored fur, with a chocolate-brown spot right on her snout. Not a hair of her bangs was out of place, and her gold-blonde streak caught the glow of her ring light just right. Her white work blouse was in place, showing just the right amount of cleavage. She adjusted her posture, making sure her whole chest was in the shot.

While she was looking, a pop-up played across the top of her screen.

@moofan7 donated $1

“Thanks for the donation, friend! Remember, every dollar you donate to the stream goes to the charity of the week. Plus, every dollar gets matched by our anonymous partner. This week, it's all going to help trans kids buy new clothes!”

Mocha was fairly proud of the amount of money she raised for charity every week. She didn’t feel the need to share that the ‘anonymous partner’ was, in fact, herself.

"If you have a question, share it in the chat! If it gets 10 upvotes, I’ll answer it! Please, nothing too personal and no sexual stuff. If you do that, you’re gonna get banned. Seriously, that shit’s not cool.” A frustrating number of people online thought it was okay to ask invasive questions about her body, or try to get her to indulge their kinks on stream. Luckily, she had a great team of mods that nipped those viewers in the bud. Mocha was happy to use her attractiveness in her streams—on her terms, doing the things she wanted to do when she felt like it.

She didn’t owe her viewers anything else. Most of them respected that. Those were the ones she was streaming for, and the ones who made streaming something she looked forward to.

“Alright, first question! ‘Can we ask about demihuman stuff?’ Absolutely, just be respectful.”

These were some of the more common questions she got in her Q&A sessions. Sometimes it got on her nerves, but she tried to keep in mind that her human fans were just curious.

@moofan7: whats it like having fur?

“It’s pretty great if you ask me. I put a lot of work in to keep my coat this lustrous, though. As long as you keep it clean, it’s like wearing a cozy blanket at all times.”

@9tailtrouble: demi here. what products do you recommend for fur care?

“Great question, 9tailtrouble. It really depends a lot on your species, but FurLux is a good brand that covers a wide range. My personal favorite is Taúr-faire, but that’s specifically for cows. I assume you’re a fox? I’ve heard from other foxes that Red Coature is pretty good if you’re willing to spend a bit extra.”

Chat started excitedly popping off. Little emotes of a gray cat with a confused look on her face dotted the messages.

@tinkretor: :joule: :pog: @momijams: JOULE SIGHTING @moofan7: girlfriend jumpscare @moofan7: jk joule im ur biggest fan @theinfirminator: :joule: :joule: :joule: :joule: :joule: :joule: :joule: :joule: :joule: :joule:

Mocha looked at her stream feed. Sure enough, Joule was visible making dinner in the kitchen. Mocha couldn’t help but smile; her newest girlfriend had already wandered into frame so many times it had become a running joke.

After the chat calmed again, 9tailtrouble responded.

@9tailtrouble: yeah im a fox :D i really love yuor streams!! I admire you so much 0///0 @9tailtrouble donated $5

“Thanks, 9tail, I’m so honored to hear that! Let me know if you try those products.”

@theinfirminator: you have two gfs, rite? wats that like @subbywoofers: mo is so cool

“It’s the best. I love them so much! It takes a lot of love and trust to make it work, but it’s so worth it.”

@theinfirminator: how did you meet?

“Pap and I met in college. We were both skipping the same lecture and decided to hang out! That was… something like eighteen months ago. Then we met Joule when she became our roommate, and she started dating us around a year ago.”

@momijams: yall are adorable together! @theinfirminator: will we get a paprika sighting tonite?

“Not tonight, she’s out with a friend. I’ll let her know you asked, though!”

@momijams: its ok if this is too personal but. im dating a cowgirl and i want to learn more to about what its like so i can take care of her when were married @momijams: ive heard that its.. a lot @momijams: do you have any tips??

“Wow, congrats momijams! It's a bit too personal for the stream, but message me after and I’ll give you some advice. I think it’s really sweet that you’re trying to learn to take care of her!”

@momijams: thank you :) i want to treat her right @momijams donated $10

Mocha continued answering her viewers' questions. Before she knew it, an hour had already passed. It was probably the best stream she’d had in a while.

Until one message caught her eye.

@9tailtrouble: maam. your shirt

Mocha checked her feed. A pair of wet spots had soaked through her blouse, revealing the pink bra beneath. Twin white streams trickled off her chest and into her lap. Blood rushed through her cheeks. Fucking hell, when did this happen?

In a panic, she made to shut down the stream. And I was having such a good time, too, she thought. Her mouse hovered over the red "END STREAM" button. She hesitated.

“You know what?" She turned to the camera. "You all have been so lovely today. Here’s a little treat.”

She began unbuttoning her top, only now noticing how tight it had gotten; it was near to popping open, anyway. Her breasts had swollen several sizes up throughout the stream. No wonder I'm leaking...

Once her shirt was fully unbuttoned, she let it fall to either side, revealing her straining bra, dark and damp from the lactic bounty leaking from inside. Milk streamed down her belly, dampening her fur.

Chat was going wild.

“That feels better. Now back to the Q&A.”

@momijams: can we ask about… this

“I’m in a good mood, so go ahead! Don’t go overboard, though.”

@momijams: okay so. wow. i heard cowgirls produce a lot, but i wasnt expecting this muich @momijams: is this a normal amount??

Mocha blushed, hoping it wasn’t too obvious. She always enjoyed it when people commented on how much milk she made.

“Yeah, this is a pretty normal amount for a cow my age. Usually I take suppressants to keep it down to a manageable amount, but I think I’m a little late this month!” She gestured to her leaking tits.

@theinfirminator: how does it feel?

“Pleasant, most of the time. Most of the day I can hardly feel it. But this,” she hefted her boobs. “If they get much bigger than this, they start to ache.”

That got them curious.

@9tailtrouble: they grow? @tinkretor: mocha is so PRETTYYYY @moofan7: BIGGER THAN THIS? They’re already so big! @momijams: how big do they get?

Mocha was getting just as excited as them. This is fun! I should talk about this stuff more often! She would be lying if she said this wasn’t turning her on a bit, as well.

“Judging by the G-cup bra they’re about to destroy, right now they’re probably about a K-cup. The biggest I’ve ever gotten is a Q-cup.” She held her hands out several inches from her bust.

@momijams: how doyou deal with them? @9tailtrouble: thats so huge, omg @9tailtrouble: i wish my tits did that!! @tinkretor: do you have to. Express? srory if thats too much

Mocha was really getting going, now. “Mm hmm, every day I have to-” Mocha had an idea. A grin spread across her face. This is gonna get me suspended for sure.

She put a finger up to her lips, pretending to think about it. “Well,” she drawled, “maybe it would be better to demonstrate. Joule, love! Can you come over here?”

@moofan7: is this really happening? @9tailtrouble: no way. our mo? @momijams: what an exciting new direction for the channel @momijams donated $25 @subbywoofers donated $50 @subbywoofers: mo this is so cool tysm

Joule poked her head out from the kitchen. “What’s up, Mo?”

“Come over here. Say hi to the fans!”

“Hi, fans! Thanks for supporting my girlfriend!” She reached the desk, only now seeing Mocha’s state of undress. “Oh. Since when is this that kind of stream? Not that I mind.”

“I’m trying something new.” The swollen cowgirl unstrapped her bra, letting it fall. “Now, if you would please milk me?”

Mocha’s tits heaved as her breathing suddenly got easier. I didn't realize just how tight that bra was getting… Her nipples, thick as little brown thumbs, were spraying arcs of milk now.

Joule visibly gulped. “Yes, please!”

The lanky catgirl stood behind Mocha’s chair, wrapping her arms around. “I almost can’t reach! You’ve let them get way too big today.”

Her paws found the leaking teats. Mocha gasped as Joule’s fingers expertly worked the swollen breasts. The spray turned into a hose, shooting milk warm milk across the desk, the keyboard, the monitor.

“As you. Can. See,” the breathy cowgirl had trouble forcing herself to speak through the stimulation. “The best. Way. To express. Is through. Hand. Milking.” She let out a low “Moooo~” as Joule rolled a thick teat between her knuckles.

@momijams donated $40 @subbywoofers: good work, joule :joule: @moofan7 donated $25 @9tailtrouble donated $75

After a minute, her breasts had visibly gone down in size. Mocha held up her hand, signaling Joule to stop for now. The catgirl obediently let go, releasing the heavy, wet breasts with a PLAP.

“That’s the most effective way to do it. On suppressants, I need to do that for about an hour every night. Without suppressants, like right now, it’d probably take two or three hours to get me back down to normal size.”

@moofan7: doesn’t seem so bad @9tailtrouble: that was. wow. @9tailtrouble: im kinda jealous NGL @tinkretor donated $100

“It does have its perks,” agreed Mocha, reading the chat. “It’s not always easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” She looked back at Joule, thoughtful.

“I’ve had a lot of fun tonight. And you all have been so generous with the donations! I can’t thank you enough.” She sighed.

“But I’m gonna try. Here’s one last treat before I log off. Joule?”

“Yeah babe?” the catgirl licked her lips.

“Show them what happens when you suck a cowgirl’s tits.”

Joule didn’t hesitate. She pounced on Mocha’s left tit, wrapping her lips around the stiff nipple. She began slurping down milk, rolling the teat with her tongue. Her hand reached up to stroke the right teat, tugging and playing with the spraying bud.

Mocha began growing. Each boob was quickly regaining the mass it had just lost, swelling outwards as they kicked into overdrive to feed the hungry mouth. Mocha moo’d frantically, grabbing her girlfriend by the scruff and pulling her tight against her growing flesh. The exposed right nipple was growing alongside its breast, nearly two inches long and spraying cream from a dozen thick arcs. Droplets of milk flecked the camera lens. Soon, each breast was the size of a prize-winning pumpkin and still growing.

@9tailtrouble donated $75 @momijams donated $120 @momijams: educational :) @theinfirminator donated $90 @theinfirminator: we love you mo! @9tailtrouble: not how i expected tonight to go. thank you mo, you rock!! @moofan7 donated $50 @subbywoofers donated $500 @tinkretor donated $100 User @xXTheMoShow94Xx suspended. Chat log ended.

***

“Well, that’s a new record.”

Joule held the measuring tape around her girlfriend’s bust. “109.4 inches.”

Mocha sat on a groaning stool in the master bathroom, watching the stream recording on her phone. She wanted a measurement before they got to work at milking her down to size again. It’s gonna be a long night. I don’t think Joule minds, though. Paprika won’t mind when she gets home, either.

She set down the phone, looking out over the expanse of her bust. “I’m fucking huge.” She grinned, then moo’d with an aftershock of the last climax.

“Well, only one thing left to do about it.”

User: Mocha @theMoShow 9:47 pm (PST) What a great stream tonight! Thank you so much to all my amazing fans. For those who missed it, future streams will be going in a slightly new direction. Next week’s show will be on our new channel at onlyfurs.com I’ll see you all then!

***

This one was a lot of fun to write! It ended up being like 4x longer than I initially planned, and I think it's all for the better. I really enjoyed making the stream chats in particular. Oh btw, sex workers are workers and deserve rights. Thank them for all the amazing things they do!

#meow #moo #furry #milk #lactation #fursona #mocha #joule #be #booba #lit #story #be story #breast expansion #breast growth #gigantic breasts #expansion story

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milky-fixx · 2 years

Note

I wonder how Joseph Joestar would surprise his valentine? 😤😤😤😤

i'll add joseph to my vday event list! <3

i started thinking about this and decided it would be fun to answer too. this is part 2 joseph, so he's a little immature. drabble ahead. slightly naughty towards end.

joseph of course thinks valentine's day is for chumps. utter saps. that is, until he gets an S/O. he makes a derisive comment about people who care about such a frivolous holiday, and to his surprise, his S/O mentions they'd like to celebrate it. he's flabbergasted. absolutely aghast.

no matter his feelings on the holiday, he is surely not going to be called some kind of loser boyfriend that can't make you happy! his brain goes into overdrive. are you a flowers kind of person? do you expect some kind of sappy card, a disgustingly lovey-dovey poem? do you want breakfast in bed? do you even trust his cooking skills?

of course, joseph puts all that aside when he uses his big brain and realizes—why not try it all. the thing is, joseph joestar has many qualities. he is quick on his feet, quick with his words, and quick to act. but he is not good at romantic displays of affection.

the flowers he got you? why the hell didn't you tell him you were allergic to certain kinds of flowers? how did he not know this?! the card he got you? sappy and heartfelt isn't exactly his forte, but caesar takes one look at the card's contents and laughs. laughs at him!!

(surely you would find a witty pickup line such as "my heart isn't the only thing throbbing for you, baby" to be utterly genius. the antithesis to all that sappy, mushy drivel that caesar feeds his dates.)

don't even get him started on the utter disaster that he is in the kitchen. somehow his innocent goal to make you heart-shaped waffles ends up with him desperately trying to put out a blazing fire in lisa lisa’s kitchen. thankfully caesar comes to the rescue with his bubble launcher. suzi q though bans him from the kitchen for the rest of his stay on air supplena island. meanwhile he has only a plate of charred and soapy waffles to offer you.

urgh, but everything going wrong just makes him even more determined to make this day a bloody romantic one! he refuses to accept defeat. that is until the two of you are trying to get intimate. the last straw that breaks him is when—bared naked—he leans in to kiss you and trips over his belt he left lying around. and promptly slams his forehead into yours. not only has he ruined the mood, but now his forehead is the one throbbing and red—instead of little joseph. how utterly pathetic.

he’s angrily muttering to himself and it takes awhile for you to make sense of it—something about those damn italians and their stupid holiday of love. you call out to him, and he doesn’t intend to be snappish but he’s already in a foul mood.

“what?” he demands brusquely. one glimpse at the welt on his forehead has you bursting into giggles.

cue joseph’s dramatic “gah! i can’t believe you’re laughing at me now too!” and his “i should’ve never even bothered to celebrate—” but your hand squeezing his shoulder stops him mid-rant. through bubbling laughter, you end up telling him it’s okay that things didn’t go the way he wanted them to, that you’re just happy he tried to do something for you, even though he didn’t see the point in the holiday.

“…and you wouldn’t have rather had the caesar approach?” joseph asks, petulant, because of course, even when he’s down for the count, half-naked and sporting a gigantic bruise on his forehead, he has to know he’s won in some way. “the ‘ooh-la-la mi amore, i bow before you and your beauty, more radiant than the sun itself’ crap—gah.” he pulls a face.

“joseph, please,” you start, and before he can open his mouth once more, you pinch his ear, yanking it towards you. he recoils, giving you an affronted look.

“how many times do i have to tell you? i like you for being you, joseph.” you sigh. “unromantic to the core. a massive, overconfident idiot.” he bristles at your last comment, but you place a hand up to stop his retort, ever swift as he is with them. “i wouldn’t celebrate valentine’s day any other way.”

momentarily appeased, he glances down at you with a smug grin tugging at his lip. “any other way, huh? wait till caesar hears about this—”

“well… maybe that was an exaggeration… there is a few ways this could’ve gone better…”

“hey there! no going-backs now!!”

instead of a romantic dinner, the two of you end up going into town and splitting a shepherd’s pie and sticky toffee pudding at a local british-themed pub.

#joseph joestar x reader #jjba x reader #joseph x reader #jjba imagine #jjba thots #tati writes

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blueberry8278 · 11 months

Text

Why the Blackbeard pirates (plus you included) is banned from the local little Cesar’s

Blackbeard: constantly threatens the workers to hurry up with the pizza or he will bomb the place

Catarina: often try to seduce the workers into giving her free food and likes to shapeshift as the manager to boss the workers around

Van augur: likes to randomly walk into the kitchen to casually take something like breadsticks or a few slices of pizza

laffite: like to distract the workers with some cool tricks while van steals from the kitchen

doc q: he isn’t allowed to bring the horse (stronger) with him because of the no pets rule. And also cuz he blows up parts of the kitchen for lolz

sanjuan wolf: he’s too big to go in the store lmao

Jesus burgess: he often screams and throw fits by breaking the windows because his pizza is a few minutes late

Avalo Pizarro: likes to steal money from the register and likes to sneak some breadsticks in his pocket

vasco shot: constantly fight the workers because they don’t serve alcohol and like to randomly drink the sodas from the coolers

shiaru : likes to pull out his weapon and bully the workers for being slow

and finally…. You: you often like to steal the crazy bread and like to order pineapple pizza

#blackbeard pirates #blackbeard #jesus burgess #laffitte #shiiaru #one piece #vasco shot #doc q #avalo pizarro #catarina devon #Sanjuan wolf #You #y/n

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clarajohnson · 11 months

Text

the magicians s1e12

guys i'm having so much fun with this rewatch (recap reminds me that richard killed his son through neglect and q betrayed alice with the threesome and julia's about to get duped by a fake goddess) um

this kitchen reminds me of the season 4 apartment but i'm having fun so i'm not gonna think about season 4

such a small thing but i have beef with the dude imbuing kady with faith by doing something for her like. i guess we disagree on what faith is!

you can't unring a bell so be certain when you call, julia!

poor penny getting stuck babysitting three neurotics and one alice (not neurotic relative to everybody else In This One Thing)

cannot get over q being the one who initiated it. i just can't.

jesus christ jason ralph is so hot

in 2015 you could sell an audience on the badassery of a line just by including the term patriarchy

please alice drinking triple sec :'''-)

we talk about alice's style being sexy librarian but it reads much more to me as a girl who knows she could fall at any second into twee oblivion so she's styling it in dark colors. i'm waiting for an owl necklace.

ooh! dionysus, okay!

i did NOT remember her hooking up with richard. but. i'm fine with it.

mannnnn i love julia wicker so much she is the epitome of the girl with an inch-thick tough exterior filled with love all the rest of the way through she is so special and good

fucking "didn't think you had that in you" go to hell quentin! oh MY cheating is okay YOUR consensual sex outside of a relationship is BAD! again this is why i hated him the first time around

How I was feeling about Quentin would have got us all killed. :l

i kind of feel like if he was a real person i would have bullied quentin coldwater or at least been very rude to him. sorry quentin!

lol the "janet" "actually it's margo" "this time" joke went over my head last time

I PLANNED MY WHOLE OUTFIT AROUND THAT BOTTLE !!!!!

truth serum is toxic and banned? interesting

"oh i was kind of poking around in the dark with that one" lollll my baby

quentin WOULD always bring up groundhog day. also he's actually stronger than me because if fogg told me i'd been killed in these exact circumstances 39 times i would absolutely lose all hope and try and beat the beast to the punch

penny has chemistry with everybodyyyyy

i'm in love with julia's pier one ass apartment

julia and q's reunion gets me so good !!!!! so bad !!!! "you smell the same" wow you guys should be friends forever for your entire lives and you WILL be!

julia calling god magic "some pretty eclectic shit" like it's a limited run pressing of a neutral milk hotel b-side

cool, useless, kind of gross

julia's destiny is to find a whole new kind of magic. do we think this happens? what is this referring to do we think?

the LOOK q gives julia after "richard gave it to me" so much immediate understanding and shit-stirring delight

it's crazy, like, not crazy but crazy that eliot stays so torn up about mike

"yeah, no, it still sounds bad."

JOSH HOBERMANNNNNNN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

please i did not remember that they were all going to fillory in like fucking ren fair cosplay

MAGIC IS FOR FIXING THINGS JULIA SAYS (also "if fixing things was easy everyone would do it" because somebody needs to fucking validate quentin now and then)

despite my indignation on julia's behalf i do love the choice of isolating her from the academic environment of brakebills, i think it adds a new dimension and texture to her knowledge and understanding and engagement with the world around her and i like that so much

it's fucking crazy that q and jules just... do horomancy. like horomancy is such a big fucking thing the rest of the show and in this ep they just do it!

alice's light bending feels so much like a superpower, it's so rare that they let magic seem that magical but they let it happen there and i love that

margo hanson i love you and your gun forever

the moment jules and q step through the telephone booth always kind of gets me it's so much of what the promise of the show can be it's so lovely

#fun episode goes a lot of places #unauthorized magicians rewatch #the magicians #text

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fintensifies · 1 year

Note

'Sup! :D

For the ship ask game: ethan/chris/alabaster bc why not

i love you.

hmm, never quite considered this but lets see...

Drinks all of the coffee

Ethan. Al's a tea bitch and Chris drinks in moderation. Ethan drinks to survive the day.

Brings up adopting a pet

brings up? Al shows up every week with a puppy unannounced. "Yeah. This is Carl. We're keeping him." They either end up with an absurd amount of pets or send them all back. Maybe they agree to keep a FEW but that's it Chris we don't have the time or the money goddammit.

Kills the bugs

Chris - scoops it up in a cup and keeps it Al - Either burns the house down or uses it for magic Ethan - s q u i s h

Cooks the meals Chris. Al is banned from the kitchen and Ethan only knows basic things. Chris is disappointed in them.

Starts getting into holidays way before they should Al. He's the kind of bastard to put on Christmas music as soon as Halloween ends.

Initiates the couple selfies Al

Forgets the birthdays and anniversaries Ethan. Man's so unorganized he remembers exactly at midnight and runs out of the house to think of something to do

Always ends up with too much junk food after grocery shopping Chris

Nicknames the other Chris!

#fin.post #percy jackson and the olympians #ethan nakamura #chris rodriguez #alabaster c torrington #alabaster torrington

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sunaddicted · 6 years

Note

Could you do number 14 (open the door!) without too much angst for 00qad please? :)

Not too much angst is so h a r d but I managed lolThis is short and silly, I'm sorry *hides****James glared at the locked door and not for the first time that afternoon, he wondered why exactly their kitchen had a door - wasn't that a security hazard? If there was a fire, one should have been able to escape as fast as possible, right? Right: it was a perfect reasoning, it didn't hit any bumps or potholes when he ran it through his mind to check it over - like Q and Alex repeated him to do, especially if a tiny part of his brain pointed out to him that what he was thinking about might have been a tad stupid. Obviously, that referred to his impulsive plans out in the field but James was pretty sure they would have appreciated knowing that he used the method also for everyday reasoning. "Glaring at it won't make the door suddenly open" Danny said from the couch on which he was sprawled, Turing napping on his stomach as if the younger man just was a piece of furniture. James scowled "If you hadn't let Q in the kitchen, I wouldn't be glaring at a locked door now" he pointed out; there was a ban in their household and it was there for a very good reason: Q couldn't be trusted near any kitchen appliances and he barely was allowed to warm food up in the microwave, provided that there was someone in the house to make sure he didn't accidentally burn the house down or blow himself up. "I was napping" Danny shrugged. Alex cleared his throat "I suppose... he's an adult, we should start trusting him in the kitchen" James turned around to shoot the other man a disbelieving look: Alex was sensible, he was supposed to be on his side "Apart from the number written on his licence and his work attitude, does he ever behave as if he actually left college?" "Well..""No, he doesn't" James interrupted before Alex could try to answer "He doesn't eat a proper meal unless it's put right in front of his nose; he doesn't go to sleep until he passes out or he's forced to go to bed; he drinks way too much tea - do I need to go on?""No, we got it" Danny sighed "I don't smell anything burning, though: it might not be as bad as you fear" Always the optimist - if James didn't love Danny so much, he would have been irritated by his attitude; instead, it helped James to see things under a better light and he was grateful for that "You don't need to necessarily burn food to poison yourself" he pointed out. "I think you're worrying a little too much" Alex offered, one hand tentatively wrapping around James' in an offer of comfort. Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn't. James turned around and, even while he squeezed Alex's hand as if it was his personal anti-stress ball, he pounded on the locked surface in front of him "Open the door!""Just a minute!" Q called back. "He sounds fine" Danny observed, cooing at Turing when the cat stretched just to butt his head against his jaw, looking for either a scratch or a kiss - James wasn't sure whether only their cats looked for kisses because they had gotten used to them or if it was just a cat thing. Q could have probably given him a coherent answer. If only he got out of that goddamn kitchen."I'll tear this door down if you don't open it right this instant!""James, breathe""Give me a second!""NOW, Q!""Fine, fine" Q rolled his eyes and opened the door, opening his arms wide "Tadaah, I'm alive" he said, voice dripping with sarcasm - his breath was cut off when James threw himself at him, hands patting him down and lips pressed against his forehead in frantic kisses "I'm okay, James. I was just heating up a Pop Tart" Danny slid off of the couch "We still have those?"Q nodded from over James' shoulder "Yeah but I ate the last strawberry one""Cool, I prefer vanilla anyway"

#my writing #my drabble #00qad #00q #dannylex #007 #james bond #Q #quartermaster #danny holt #alex turner #silly #crack #fluff #james cares poor baby #Q is banned from the kitchen #it's my headcanon lol

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lepidopteragirl · 2 years

Text

i just want cfiances to get fucking married already man i want ckarl to show up in cq's office sometimes in the middle of the day claiming that he forgot his lunch but really just wanting to have lunch together and i want cq to laugh behind his hand and go along because hes perfectly happy to interrupt his work to spend time with ckarl over lunch too and i want them to eat dinner together and i want karl and q to sit together at the dinner table just talking and bothering sapnap while he tries to cook (they were banned from the kitchen a while back because karl accidentally set quackitys pants on fire one time) and i want them to get to eat together and then go for a walk around kinoko after dinner and visit the fish and bother foolish and george together and i want them to get to dance around the living room until their toes are all just a little bruised but none of them care really i want them to plant a garden together and start throwing dirt all over each other halfway thru and i want them to build another one of karl's roller coasters on top of george's house and then all deny it with hammer’s held behind their backs at once when he gets home and i want them to sit down on the couch to watch a movie and fall asleep piled on top of each other half an hour in and i want them to all get dressed up to go out together and i want sapnap and karl to cause so many problems and mischief in las nevadas and get away with all of it bc they're the president's husbands and even if they weren't they make quackity so happy anyway and i want the nice velvet couch cquackity used to keep in his office to pass out on the nights his couldn't make himself go back to that big empty bed that was supposed to be for all three of them to go scraggly and lumpy because karl & sapnap keep showing up and always sit on it as enthusiastically as they can to distract cq from his work so he'll spend time with them and i want cq to have to go to work & important business meetings with his work shirt died purple bc it accidentally got thrown in with one of karl's hoodies and i want csapnap to show his wedding ring to everyone who will stand still long enough for him to tell them about how much he loves his husbands and i want flowers to sometimes just show up at quackity's place of work and both of htem to pretend they have no idea where they came from and csapnap to promise to fight to defend his husbands honor from whatever scoundrel left them this time with garden dirt on his knees and bandaids on his fingers from the rose thorns and i want them to sit in the living room and play board games on rainy days and watch the fire and make hot chocolate for each other in cold weather i want them to wake up together every morning and have each other for ever and ever and ever

#cfiances domestic bliss WHEN i can't keep doing this dissolving hands gif #i feel deranged

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hermits-that-craft · 3 years

Text

Homebound - Deya’s childinnit au

This oneshot is for the amazing @deyageka ‘s hotel arc childinnit au! Go check it out, please! This is long, 8 page or 2,641 words, long, please note!

Sam walked home that day, humming to himself. Really, he wasn’t going home per say - just to the small house that Puffy, Foolish and himself had built after they found Tommy. Sam was calm as he could be, he walked instead of using his trident in an attempt to calm himself down after how long the day was. Dream has pulled at his strings early in the morning, and Ranboo sent him on a wild goose chase the second he left the prison.

Sam hoped that Ranboo’s alright, his message didn’t sound right, even in chat. Why would Ranboo need a totem?

Sam walked into the house, and felt mounting dread as lights didn’t turn on. They should have already been on, the only reason why they would be off is if Puffy had taken Tommy out, but she had sent him a message asking him to come home as soon as possible. They weren’t in danger, she had said, Tommy had just wanted him back.

“I’m back!” Sam called. He smiled as he hoped that the pair were just napping as he shut the door.

False hope can only last so long.

“Puffy!” He screamed, looking at the woman as she lied on the floor. Blood ran down her face, unconscious. Almost like she was dead.

Sam doesn’t remember much of what happened next. Of course, he knows what happened.

Dream escaped, stealing Tommy. At least, thats the basics. He knows Ranboo was there, he knows that Ranboo was - is - possessed. He knows that Tommy woke up as he was teleported away. He knows that some of the toys that Tommy had were taken.

He knows that Puffy hasn’t woken up yet, even though it’s been three days.

Phil and Techno came around, Techno helping Sam track down Dream and the boys. Tubbo moved Micheal into Sam’s base, hoping that it would be safer. Quackity, Karl, Sapnap and George also joined the search party. The groups split up, scouring the land. Tubbo joins, looking through places he knows Ranboo frequents.

Sam has been banned from searching after Phil found him, half dead, in the snow.

Ponk helps him heal, but it isn’t enough. Sam can’t - won’t, he’s too much of a coward - voice why he won’t rest. It’s his fault that Tommy’s gone. It’s his fault that Dream got out. He is - was - Tommy’s father, and his was - is - the warden. He failed his jobs. He let not only Tommy, but the entire server down by letting Dream out.

Dream was right, Sam can’t protect anyone, let alone Tommy. This is his fault.

“Hey, Sam.” Ponk says softly, carrying in some warm soup. “You up to eat now? I’ll eat some too, it can be a real date.”

There’s kindness in Ponk’s eyes, love and sympathy and caring in the brown eyes. Sam doesn’t deserve it. Sam’s hurt too many people, Ponk shouldn’t-

“You’re thinking too hard.” Ponk smiles, handing Sam the soup. “Stop blaming yourself for Tommy’s kidnapping. You couldn’t have known.”

“He’s gone because my prison failed.” Sam whispers. “I failed everyone. I was supposed to be the warden, I was supposed to protect-”

Sam breaks, sobbing. He can’t keep being strong, he can’t keep up this facade. It’s dragging him down, pulling him under the water. Vines wrap around his throat, squeezing the life out of him. The void would be a kinder death, he’s falling apart and-

And Ponk wraps his arms around Sam, letting the creeper hybrid sob into his arms. He holds Sam together, as the world falls apart.

----

“Tommy, settle down.” Dream rolls his eye, not that Tommy can see under his mask. The child is still annoying, but he follows orders easily.

“I want Papa.” Tommy protests, clinging to the Sam Nook toy that Ranboo had stolen for him when Dream took him. “Where’s my Papa.”

“I’m right here.” Dream says, cooing at the child.

“No you’re not.” Tommy glares, tears forming in his tiny eyes. “I want my Papa and Big Q and Karl and Foo’ish and Mama Puff and Sap and George!”

George.

“Do you like George?” Dream asks quietly, shock filling his chest. He could have George back, his best friend.

“Yeah! He reads to me and is safe.” Tommy smiles, tapping the Sam Nook toy around. “Makes me sleepy, though.”

“How would you feel if I asked George to come around?” Dream offers, taking out his communicator.

“Will he?” Tommy looks up, happily.

“I’m sure he’d love to.” Dream says, and Tommy cheers, throwing Sam Nook to the side as he gives Dream a hug. “But now you need to go to bed.”

Tommy whines, but doesn’t struggle as Dream picks him up. The small child - only two or three years old at most - yawns, snuggling in to sleep as Dream places him in the bed. Dream smiles from under his mask, shutting the door slightly as he leaves. Dream walks down the stairs, watching through the door as Ranboo tidies up the living room.

Dream whispers to Georgenotfound: Would you like to come around, I haven’t seen you since I left prison. Dream whispers to Georgenotfound: You can bring Sapnap as well, I guess. But I’d like to catch up with you - and tommy’s missing you i guess :/ Georgenotfound whispers to Dream: What are your co’ords? I’ll come now. We can bring Sapnap once he’s calmed down.

Dream smiles, sending through the coordinates without a second thought. Of course George would agree to come around. George is his best friend, he’s Dreams other half. George - and Puffy, a traitorous part of his brain whispers - would do anything for him.

Ranboo stops cleaning for a moment, looking up the stairs. Dream frowns, following his line of sight. No one is there, but he notices the small sobs that emit from the higher floor. Tommy. The child must be crying, maybe a nightmare. He’s too young to remember L’Manburg, the disks or the wars. He only remembers some people, after all.

Sam is one of them. Tubbo was not. A child's mind is a strange place.

Dream walks up the stairs, pausing outside Tommy’s room. He knocks before he enters, warning the boy. Dream turns on the light, not knowing what to expect.

Tommy sits up in his bed, his eyes screwed shut as he sobs. Tommy hugs Sam Nook close, but no words fall from his lips. Dream sighs, scooping the boy up and gently rocking him. Tommy blinks his eyes open before he screws them shut, crying again. Dream frowns, sinking to the ground as he tries to settle the boy.

“Please stop crying.” Dream mumbles, rocking Tommy. He’s so small, so fragile. Dream can feel every shake of Tommy’s tine body as the child cries himself back to sleep.

Dream sets the boy back into bed, tucking him in gently. He’ll wait with the boy until Ranboo is done, and then he’ll go to greet George.

----

“Dream sent me a message.” George says, casually leaning against the doorframe. “I have his coordinates.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Eret gasps, covering their mouth. Bad and Phil stand up, looking over George with carefully concealed confusion. “How long ago did you receive the message?”

“About fifteen minutes?” George frowns, checking the time. “Yeah, around fifteen minutes ago.”

“And you didn’t tell us until now?” Techno glares, an axe summoned into his hand.

“I couldn’t find you until now. Are you guys coming or what?”

“Have you told anyone else?” Phil asks, pulling his wings out of his cloak.

“Quackity, Karl and Sapnap are halfway there.” George says, walking towards the coordinates.

“Sam?”

“Doesn’t need the stress.” George says. “He’s too sick.”

“What’s the plan?” Bad asks quietly.

“Karl, Sapnap and Quackity stake the house out from a distance. I go in, distract Dream and Ranboo, and then grab Tommy and run.” George says.

“Where do we come in?” Techno asks.

“I dunno, we didn’t think that far ahead.” George shrugs. “Work it out when we get there.”

And with that, they walk.

----

Dream stands in the kitchen, watching the kettle boil as he waits for George to arrive. He’s boiled the kettle twice so far, waiting for his friend, but he doesn’t want the water to go cold before George can have some tea.

A knock sounds at the door, and Dream cautiously walks over, opening it. White clout glasses and brown hair appears, and Dream relaxes, opening his arms for a hug. George hesitates for a split second before he sinks into the hug. Dream doesn’t - wont - think about it. The hesitation.

“Hey.” Dream breaths, and George smiles.

“Hey yourself. How are you?”

“Good. I’m a father now.” Dream smirks, and George pulls out from the hug. “Do you want some tea?”

“The gosip type or the good type?” George jokes, and Dream steps aside, showing George the kitchen bench, where two cups are laid.

“Guess.”

----

“Why did George hug him?” Techno whispers to Eret.

“They’re best friends, he’s keeping up the persona.” Eret replies. “Letting Dream’s guard down.”

“Will it work?”

“Well, we won’t know unless George either gets Tommy.”

“Or he starts screaming.” Phil says darkly, his wings fluttering nervously behind him.

“Dream wouldn’t-” Bad shakes his head. “No, this Dream isn’t the same one who played with Sapnap as a kid. Dream would hurt George, wouldn’t he?”

----

“Is Tommy sleeping alright?” George asks, trying to sound casual. “Sam used to complain that he’d only ever sleep peacefully if I was there.”

It’s a lie, but George and Sam had both noticed that Tommy would sleep easily in George’s arms. Nightmares would still happen, but Tommy would calm down faster.

“He’s been having so many nightmares.” Dream admits. “He also cries a lot, even during the day. I think he needs you around. Familiar faces and all that.”

“What about Ranboo?” George asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Ranboo hasn’t been Ranboo since I escaped.” George can hear the self centered smirk in his voice, the proud lilt of admitting that he’s controlling the teen. “I think Tommy can tell that. It doesn’t seem to bother him all that much, he’s seen my face and isn’t scared.”

George’s stomach drops at that, fear lacing his insides. There’s a reason Dream wears the mask. He doesn’t look safe to be around, he looks like if the void had a neon green eye and a glowing, neon green hole gaping where his mouth and nose should be. But George knows better than to mention that, only raising his eyebrows with surprise.

“I would have thought that would make him cry.” George jokes, lightly elbowing Dream. “Is he sleeping?”

“I hope so, do you want to check?” Dream cocks his head to the side, not too unlike a puppy. George nods, and let’s Dream walk him up the stairs.

Now’s his chance.

---

Sapnap nervously paces, the treeline hiding him from Dream’s watchful gaze. He’s far enough away to see everything, but not be able to hear anything. It’s safer this way, watching from a distance. Karl and Quackity won’t get hurt if he’s caught, this way. He doesn’t trust the silence, and from the nervous looks on his fiancees’ faces, they don’t like not being able to hear either.

An ear piercing scream tears the silence in half as Karl makes eye contact with Sapnap.

“GEORGE!” Sapnap screams, running towards the house. Snow melts under his feet, he can’t contain his anger. “George!”

Sapnap slams open the door to the house, his hand melting the door handle. George lays on the ground, his glasses under Dream’s foot. Blood. There’s so much blood. Too much blood. George is curled around Tommy, who wails at the top of his lungs. George isn’t moving. Why isn’t George moving? Why isn’t he struggling.

Duck.

Ranboo’s punch misses.

Sweep your opponents leg out from under them.

Ranboo falls to the ground, his head cracking painfully.

Keep your eyes on the room.

Blood pools under Ranboo’s head. Dream laughs.

Don’t let your guard down.

“Did you really think that George could take Tommy from me?”

Don’t let your opponent see any fear.

“I trusted you both. You’re my friends. I can’t believe you would betray me like this.”

Focus on the fight.

“I thought you cared about me, all I wanted was for us to be a family again.”

Dream stands on George, and Sapnap can hear the pained weaze that George breaths out. He’s still alive.

“Eyes on me, Snapnap.” Dream taunts, and Sapnap’s eyes jump back to his once-best friend. “You’ve got to work on that.”

Don’t make the first move.

“Not going to talk to me?”

Go on the defensive.

“That’s rude.”

Duck.

“Let’s dance.”

Duck. Sidestep. Block. Jab. Punch. Duck. Owch, was that his eye? Duck again, keep focusing. Get to the door. Duck. Open the door. Punch. Step outside. Block. Run backwards. Duck. Throw a punch

Sapnap is thrown through the air, landing with a scream on the ground. Snow melts around him, and he lets out a gasp of pain. There’s blood underneath him, staining the snow red. It’s pretty, almost.

Sapnap can see Phil and Techno fight Dream, out of the corners of his eyes. Eret and Bad run into the house, carrying out Ranboo, Tommy and George. They’re safe. Everyone is safe now. Sapnap did good.

“Stay awake Sap.” Karl says, and Sapnap forces his eyes open - when did they close - to see his fiancee’s. Quackity cradles his head in his lap, and Karl fumbles with his pockets. “Keep your eyes open, yeah, that’s good. Keep it up.”

Sapnap groans as Karl pours a healing potion directly onto his torso. It wont help much, there’s something in his back, but he can’t speak. It hurts too much.

“Open your eyes.” Quackity says, and Sapnap feels warm fingers on his cheek. “Open your eyes. BAD! BAD SAPNAP’S-”

----

Sam watches out the window of his room as birds flit around tree branches. Ponk had left the room half an hour ago, just after he served breakfast. Ponk hadn’t said much, simply kissing Sam’s forehead and telling him to relax.

Sam can’t relax. He shouldn’t be allowed to, pneumonia or not. Not while Puffy suffers, while Tommy suffers.

“Hey Dad.” Quackity’s voice doesn’t surprise Sam, who sees his son every morning.

“Hey duckling.” Sam smiles. “How are you this morning?”

“Good. Sapnap and George are in a bad shape though. Bad kicked me out of their rooms.” Quackity laughs wetly, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Sam says, opening his arms out for Quackity. The man smiles, but shakes his head, wiping away tears.

“There’s something you need to see.” Quackity says, and apparently thats a cue for something, because Jack opens the door to his room.

Niki wheels Puffy into the room, the woman sitting on a wheelchair, her hair falling down over her shoulders. She’s still got a bandage on her head, but there is colour in her cheeks and a knowing smile on her face.

“Puffy.” Sam gasps, happy to see his friend better, if not up and running. Sam tries to stand, to give Puffy a hug, but Quackity just pushes him back into his bed.

“If you’re that happy to see me, you’ll need someone to hold you back with who Foolish has.” Puffy jokes, though her voice is hoarse.

Foolish walks into the room, gently holding a wiggling Tommy. Sam gasps, and true to Puffy’s prediction, it takes Quackity and Jack to stop Sam from getting out of his hospital bed. Foolish passes Tommy to Sam, and the man holds onto Tommy gently, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s here. He’s safe, finally.

“How-”

“We’ll explain later.” Quackity says. “Just relax for now. Everyone is safe.”

#hotel arc childinnit au #dream smp au #dream smp fanfiction #dreamwastaken #awesamdude #georgenotfound #sapnap #dream smp ensemble

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almostdeath · 3 years

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Since my Christmas is already turning into something negative...I would like to share this headcanons earlier than I planned. Hope you enjoy.

Schlackity christmas Headcanons

•Quackity honestly expected Schlatt to want a "straight up traditionally American Christmas" but was surprised at the amount of enthusiasm that his partner put into finding out which Mexican traditions they could add. He did his research very properly and asked Q what he wanted to add.

•Both of them seem very excited about this holiday. For Quackity it was something very familiar and something that reminded of home because of how it is celebrated in Mexico and for Schlatt it was a celebration that he mostly did with friends and now could do with his new family.

•On the Christmas morning Quackity was actually surprised to wake up alone in bed but soon enough found a little note on the little drawer next to the bed that said "Morning, pumpkin, get your fat ass ready and get downstairs". Downstairs, in the kitchen, Schlatt already waited with breakfast. It was actually again something...more Mexican traditional. Some Huevos Rancheros and some mexican hot chocolate, which wasn't really usual for the mornings, since Schlatt preferred coffee....(The Huevos Rancheros definitely took multiple tries to make...) Quackity didn't even give Schlatt the time to say some cheesy or teasing line before hugging him tight and covering his lips with a passionate kiss.

•They decided to create a mixed tape, so there would be some classic English Christmas songs but also some Spanish ones. Quackity also added the song "Me Razón de Ser" by Banda MS" and as soon as this song turned on, he would just ask Schlatt for a dance. Q would quietly sing along, a little bit out of tact but nobody really cared for that. Schlatt doesn't understand all the words but the parts that he does get, they make him smile, he doesn't want to look away because he doesn't want to miss a single moment of the pure care, affection and passion that Quackity has in his eyes.

•Even though they can't do all unique Mexican traditions (like "Las posadas") they try to add as many as possible. Like the piñata with seven different spikes that represent the seven deadly sins. And also some classic drinks like ponche and rompope. This all is also combined with the mixed style of the decorations.

•Schlatt would have mistletoe tied to his horns, which was Quackitys initiative and Q would use this to kiss him every time he sees him. (he would also try to tie a mistletoe to Schlatts tail. Just for fun, even though it annoys the president...in the best way possible).

•They invite Fundy. Both of them know that the fox hybrid would be alone for Christmas and new year...since...the relationship with Phil and Wilbur is difficult. So they invite him. Of course he has to suffer through their endless flirting with each other...but he actually doesn't feel bad about it. He also brought Yogurt with him.

•Schlatt and Fundy were the ones busy in the kitchen and....trying to not let Quackity anywhere near it, insisting on the fact that "You are just sooooo good with kids...so...yeah....entertain Yogurt!".

•When Quackity opened his present, he just immediately said "Oh...guapito....I love it!" and Schlatt didn't wait even a second before saying "And I love you.". Fundy also got a gift from both of them actually.

•At first Q was really hesitant about fireworks and even banned them in Las Nevadas because he feared that this may trigger Schlatt. But...the ram hybrid reassured him that everything is fine and that he is alright. Especially if Quackity is by his side.

•The last few minutes of the evening, before the clock showed 00:00, they spend in each others arms, curled in a big blanket, on the couch. Fundy would sit on the other end of the couch, holding his sleeping son, not holding back the gentle smile. Schlatt would leave a trail of kisses all over Quackitys face, making him laugh and blush. Something that the president wants to hear and see more often because this is a reminder that his duckling is happy. He is making him happy. And this is all that matters.

If I did get something wrong about Mexican celebration, please let me know <3

Hope you all will have a pleasant Christmas and if not...well....we are in this together, my dear. Next year will get better, hopefully.

#dream smp #dsmp #jschlatt #schlatt #quackity #schlackity #pumpkinduo #pumpkin husbands #fundy #its fundy #yogurt #headcanons #headcanon #earlie Christmas #christmas

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gohan111111 · 4 years

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For @thesaiyanprincess

Vegeta (Dragon Ball Z)

SFW ABC Headcanons

By:neogohann

A=Affection(How affectionate are they with a s/o?)

As you can guess Vegeta isn’t really an affectionate person.

But there are times where he is willing to put his pride aside and just hold you to tell you how much he appreciates you.

Like when he thinks you’re asleep, or he’s had a bad day, or you come home crying.

He’ll pull you into his chest and just hold you. He won’t say anything, but just that alone shows how much he cares.

B=Beauty(What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?)

Vegeta loves how you care for Trunks.

This man will never amidst it but he appreciates you very much.

He loves his strength.

This man is so prideful of his muscles that if he loses any fight he will train for hours or until he passes out from exhaustion, which at that point you’ll have to find a way to get him inside.

C=Cuddle(Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?)

Vegeta isn’t a cuddly person but there are times when he will.

Like before the Cell games or after the tournament of power.

All he does is pull you into his chest.

D=Dream(What do they dream of doing with their s/o?)

I know this sounds cheesy but just here me out, Vegeta dreams of being King and ruling the Sayians with you by his side, his Queen.

But he knows that can never happen because almost all of the Sayian race is dead.

So, he is content with what he has at the moment.

E=Effort(How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

Vegeta doesn’t put much effort in front of others. But he sure does shoe it in the bedroom. Not gonna go into detail cause this is SFW.

But there was one time he came home from training with a bouquet of wildflowers He walked in all sweaty and handed you the flowers, roots still attached, not saying a word. He then walked away. You still have those flowers in a pot of soil and they are thriving, even if you don’t have a green thumb.

F=First kiss(When do you have your first kiss? Where and how does it happen?)

It happened during a fight.

You two were fighting over how he was gone all the time. You didn’t mind that he fought and trained but you wanted to have time with him too.

You went on a rant and he stopped yelling, which you didn’t notice. He suddenly grabbed you by the waist and crashed his lips into yours. You were shocked by kissed back moments later.

He pulled away, telling you, “Shut up. The only reason I’m not here all the time is because I’m not good enough for you and I’ll never be even close until I’m stronger than that blubbering idiot!”

Let’s just say you spent all night showing him what you really thought about him.

G=Gentle(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Emotionally Vegeta isn’t gentle but he will compliment you in his own way. He’ll compliment you by saying you’re not annoying or he might say a random woman he sees in public looks like a dead cat.

Physically, he knows he’s stronger than you but he also knows that he could hurt you. So, Vegeta is rough but just enough so he doesn’t hurt you too much.

H=Hugs(Do they hug their s/o? How often?)

Vegeta isn’t a huggy person but I will stand by the idea that a sleepy Vegeta is a cuddly Vegeta.

I imagine he would come in the kitchen in the morning while you're making your morning coffee or tea.

Wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face into your neck.

I=Intimacy(How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

Vegeta has a problem with human intimacy but he gets the job done.

The most he does though is for you to come home from work and there be a full meal on the table because this man can cook unlike Goku.

J=Jealous(Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?)

Vegeta is a very jealous man.

He doesn’t want you to look at anyone else.

He once broke a TV because you were drooling over this movie star on TV.

He almost fought a guy in the mall for just glancing in your direction.

K=Kisses(Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you?)

Vegeta is a good kisser by all means. He’s a rough kisser as well.

He doesn’t kiss you out of nowhere though and he says he hates when you do it to him but he’s a liar. This man loves it. He gets all red when it happens.

Kids(Do they want kids? If so, how many and how?)

Well, Vegeta already has Trunks but he’s open to the idea of more.

Don’t get him wrong he loves Trunks to death. He might not show it but he does.

Trunks will train with him all the time but he isn’t as invested as Vegeta is. Vegeta wants a kid that loves to fight just as much as he does.

L=Love you(When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?)

Vegeta only says I love you after something really bad happens and he thought he might’ve lost you and trunks and when he thinks they might now win, which barley ever happens.

M=Mornings(How are mornings spent with them?)

Vegeta normally gets up early in the morning to get up and train.

But there are days, though not many at all, where he’ll sleep in and let you cuddle up to him or he’ll initiate early morning sex.

N=Nights Out(What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?)

Vegeta doesn’t go on dates. He finds them useless.

The most he does is make you dinner and then y’all have sex.

You tried to take him on a date once. He got pissed at the waiter and you two got banned from the restaurant.

He does like taking you on picnics in the woods for some reason.

O=Open(When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It would take Vegeta a very long time to open up to you.

To him being open means being weak and he hates being weak.

But once he’s comfortable, even though it might take him years, he’ll open up and tell you bits and pieces of his past.

P=PDA(Do they like it? What do they do?)

Vegeta will not do PDA.

The most he does is have an arm around your waist to show that you’re his.

Q=Questions(How often do they ask questions? What questions do they have?)

Vegeta only has two types of questions.

Mad questions that only happen during arguments, which usually sound like, “Why would you do that?!” or “What do you think I’d do if you would’ve died?!”

He also has confused questions which he asks when he doesn’t understand the point of something that humans do.

R=Respect(Do they respect your boundaries? How respectful are they to your friends, your family, and you?)

When you first got with Vegeta he didn’t understand the concept of boundaries.

But as time went on he began to understand and respect everyone's boundaries in his own way.

He might go too far every once in a while but he tries.

S=Sleep(How do they sleep with their s/o? Might include a gif.)

At the beginning of the night Vegeta will lay right beside you on the other side of the bed but once he thinks you're asleep he grabs you and holds you until he wakes up in the morning.

But if you wake up before him or in the middle of the night then you better stay there or it won’t happen again that night.

T=Trust(How much do they trust their s/o?

If Vegeta is willing to have an actual relationship with you and it not be just sex, he has to trust you with his life.

Like he knows he is stronger than you but he has to know that you would do anything for him, even if he doesn’t like it.

U=Unique(What makes them unique as an s/o?)

What is most unique about Vegeta is that he might treat you like shit but he loves you and he shows you in his own way. He will protect you and Trunks with his life.

V=Vanity(How concerned are they with their looks?)

Vegeta isn’t necessarily concerned with his looks but he does value his strength.

In his eyes if he isn’t strong enough to protect his family he isn’t worth the love he receives from them. He doesn’t deserve to be called the prince of all Sayian.

W=Wedding(When, how, where do they propose?)

Vegeta didn’t propose. I believe in Sayian culture there isn’t a wedding type thing. They find their mate and they stay with them for life.

So, you essentially have to bring it up.

He doesn’t understand why you would want to do that, you’re already his mate, why would a piece of paper matter?

You have to do a lot of begging and bargaining but he eventually agrees.

It isn’t a big flashy wedding like Bulma and Chi-chi wanted to plan. It was small with all your close family and friends.

Trunks was the ring bearer. Imagine tiny Trunks in little tux, with his hair all done nice.

Vegeta gets really annoyed but he puts aside his pride for you and pushes through the day to make you happy.

X=Xtra(You get a random, extra headcanon)

This man spends hours on his hair. I know it naturally stands by itself but he has a strict hair routine he follows every single week.

Y=Yawn(What do they do when they're bored?)

This man is never bored.

If he doesn’t have something to do he’ll train.

Z=Zzz(What is a sleeping habit of theirs?)

This man snores so loud.

You tried to get him to use those nose strip things that are supposed to help people stop snoring but he is so stubborn and dead set on saying that he doesn’t snore.

#vegeta #vegeta x reader #dragon ball z #dragon super #dragon ball z x reader #dragon bal super x reader #x reader #abc headcannons #imagines #dragon ball z imagines #dragon ball z headcanons #dragon ball super imagines #dragon ball super headcanons #vegeta imagines #vegeta headcanons

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