#and I’d like my sleep and sanity back

[thatonceandfutureprat]

Still trying to trap the last mouse.

I’ve got three traps (live catching) in strategic places, clearly the mouse is getting exhausted bc today I actually s a w it (you generally don’t) AND it keeps trying to get out by returning to the gap in the closet through which it came in.

Buddy. There’s a trap in the kitchen cabinet with seeds, a French fry AND now also a cookie in it.

All you need to do is chew the wire to get to it. There’s a nice home elsewhere for you, I promise.

Please get in. Please?

[deus-ex-mona]

man. this song reminds me of physiology class

[goldkirk]

geez. I want so badly all the time now to get back in contact with other people and apologize to my relatives and try to explain why I ghost everyone and apologize and explain what I’ll do instead in the future but I cannot even remotely get myself to execute a plan to do that

[amongemeraldclouds]

Things I’ll Never Say

Why say things out loud when you can write them all down in a journal? No need to inconvenience everyone else with silly declarations of love that’s only guaranteed to break your heart. So what happens when your enemy - of all people - finds it?

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

Thanks to @thatdammchickennugget for the prompt. Here's my official entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt one. 1k words.

Author’s note: The way I screamed when this idea came to mind! Journaling is such a big part of my life, I’ll take any and every chance I can to incorporate it to my stories.

Indented text are journal entries.

Warning: Cursing, no use of y/n, slight angst but it’s kinda cute. Fluff express coming through!

✿ Masterlist

“Stop copying my notes!” I hiss at Lorenzo, moving my arm to cover my parchment.

“Come on, I missed class today. I need to catch up,” he says, tugging at the arm of my sweater.

“Go ask your friends,” I retort, moving my arm away from his grasp.

“You know they’re not in that class, just you,” he insists.

“Oh we’re not friends,” I deadpan.

“It won’t take long,” he tries again.

“If you weren’t busy sleeping around with everyone, Berkshire. You would have made it to class this morning.”

 He leans in to my ear and whispers, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

I grab the nearest hardbound book and swing it in his direction. Thwack! It strikes his shoulder.

The librarian looks at us sternly. “Your final warning was just given five minutes ago. No noise in the library!” She points her finger to the exit, “You two, out!”

“Great. Thanks for that, Berkshire. Good luck with your notes.” My face gets hot with embarrassment as I gather my things and rush off to the exit.

Enzo spots a black leather bound journal in the area you just vacated. He takes it with him as he exits the library. She’s always writing in this notebook. I’m sure she won’t mind if I take a peek, I’ll give it back to her anyway.

He damn well knew you would mind. When he reaches a quiet corner of the hallway, he proceeds to turn the cover anyway.

I know, I know. I’m not supposed to like Lorenzo Berkshire. Why the fuck did I just draw a heart over the “i”! That’s it. I’m losing my mind! I can’t be caught liking the boy who spewed the word mudblood in my direction our first year. Like it’s my fault I was born into my family. And screw him okay, muggles are awesome. I can break my own heart with my misguided affections, but I’d rather die before I ever let him break my heart. So before I check myself into a mental asylum, I need to just say this somewhere. Anywhere. A last ditch effort to save my sanity.

He’s the intrusive thought I love to entertain in my head.

As a dare, he took off his shirt at the party. My toes curled. I pretended not to notice him.

I heard him laughing with his friends. I love the way it lit up his face.

I saw him enter his dorm hand in hand with a girl. I never wish to be her, another one night stand. Once would never be enough. 

I nearly kissed him again.

He helped me pick up the pile of books I dropped at the library. He seemed kind and concerned. Ha! Who am I kidding?

I count down the hours until I see him again.

Maybe in another lifetime it wouldn’t matter: bloodlines, social status, and hierarchies. So unnecessary.

I noticed the veins in his arm at quidditch practice. I tried not to bite my lip. What must it be like to be wrapped in those arms?

And there he was again with his stupid hair breaking my stupid heart.

Enzo hears determined footsteps approaching and he shuts the journal, hiding it behind him.

“Fine, Berkshire,” I sigh when I reach him. “Here, take my notes,” I say, handing it out to him.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you so desperate to get them earlier?” I fold my arms. “I will not be part of the reason you fail in class.” I point at him, “you and your dumb ass can very well do it yourself. I have more important things to worry about.”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

My brain short circuits, the fire freezing in my veins. How the hell does he know?

He smirks, pulling out a familiar black journal. My eyes widen.

“On second thought,” I say, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter,” I turn around and walk away. “Fail class for all I care.”

I’m yanked back when I feel Enzo’s grip on my wrist. “Wait.”

My heart thumps in my chest. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. He knows!

“I’m sorry,” he says. What? I turn back, my confused expression directed at him.

“That I called you a mudblood,” he explains. “I was a dumb ass when we were younger.”

“Finally, we agree on something,” I state, trying to mask the tremble in my voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you back then and I was prejudiced. Over the years, I enjoyed watching your passion for magic and studying. How you light up when you talk to your friends about a book you just read. And how you’re always the first to volunteer when someone needs help. You have this fire and warmth in you and I just need to be around it all the time. I’m reduced to being a moth to your flame and I don’t mind it at all.”

I blink, speechless.

He takes a step forward, voice softening. “Why do you think I tease you all the time?”

“Well how the fuck was I supposed to know?” The anger not quite there in my voice.

“I just wanted a chance to talk to you and I thought you hated me.” He brushes the hair from my face and cups my face. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

I roll my eyes, “Oh no, I do hate you.” I falter, “but maybe I kind of, just sort of, like you too.”

He grins. “It seems there are things we need to talk about. Will you go on a date with me?”

My heart stutters. “You already know my answer.”

He laughs, “stubborn as always. I’ll take that as a yes.” He pulls me in for a hug. 

Oh. Being wrapped in his strong arms is even better than I imagined. I rest my head on his shoulder when a thought occurs to me.

“You’re sure this is not just some elaborate ploy for me to keep giving you my notes?”

He sighs, “of course not, just enjoy this moment."

He moves his mouth to my ear, "But if you do, I solemnly swear I will make it worth your while.”

I don't hit him this time.

✿ Masterlist

A/N: For those who get the Avril Lavigne title reference, here's a tight hug for you! ♡

I may or may not have also had a place where I wrote down love confessions for someone I couldn’t have. Some of those may or may not have been included in the journal entries.

Two fics published in one day? Who is she?

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part four

authors note: the love and response to this story continues to absolutely floor me. you guys are all so sweet! i was nervous about posting, but everyone has made me feel so happy that i did, so thank you!

couple of hints about things sprinkled through this one. the more i write, the more things are getting fleshed out, so idk how many parts this will be atp, nothing too crazy though!!!

also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!

warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

word count: 5.8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @shayaaaaaaa @usoholic @brokenglassslippers @gators-aid @dersha89 @southerngirl41 @empressdede

You couldn't eat. 

Couldn't sleep.

Could barely think straight.

All that consumed you, ate at you, gnawed at your sanity was one thought and one thought alone.

He wanted to take her from you. 

Joe wanted to take your daughter from you, your four year old daughter who still couldn't even go to sleep at night unless she got to see or speak to you.

The daughter who he'd only known existed just recently but was seemingly set on ripping away from you.

That thought destroyed you, made you raw from blistering agony at just the idea of not having Callie with you full time. It destroyed you to the point that you decided to throw some clothes on, hop in your car, and set your google maps for the hotel you knew he’d be staying at. Damn the fact that it was the middle of the night or that you were stupid as hell for being in that situation in the first place. None of that mattered. 

You needed to talk to him, and you needed to talk to him now. 

Joe opens the door with a forceful swing, looking as irritated and disheveled as you’d expect one to look at nearly 1am in the morning. However, when his eyes land on you, confusion meshes with irritation. “Y/N?”

“Hi.” It’s said in a breathy tone. You're struggling to remember the script you rehearsed the whole drive there. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late—”

“What the..….” He sighs heavily and steps aside, motioning for you to come in. “Get in here.”

You don’t need to be told twice, looking around the hotel room that looks so plain and undeserving of someone with Joe’s stature. But, you also know this area isn’t exactly saturated with 5 star hotels, far from it. This is probably the most elite one he could find with such short notice, and it’s not bad at all, just….basic.

He clears his throat, and you return your attention to the man who you just realized is also shirtless. If not for the pending mental breakdown you’re fighting to keep at bay, it would be extremely distracting. Joe is a lot of things, and fine as hell is at the top of that list.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He sounds exhausted, and you can’t tell if it’s from the argument earlier that day or being woken up in the middle of the night. Probably both. 

“I just—I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” 

Nodding, you continue. “I know….I know I messed up, okay? I should have told you, but I just—I need you to look at it from my perspective. I need you to just hear me out, and if—if you still feel the same way, then–then I’ll have to deal with that….but please.” 

He’s leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed, taking time to answer as he weighs your offer. Finally, he concedes, “you came all the way over here. I’m not just gonna send you away.”

You’re thankful for him being willing to at least hear some of what you have to say. “Callie.....she was conceived the last time we were together.” Not sure if that part was necessary or the best way to start out, you quickly move on to the next point. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until two months later. And on top of not knowing what the fuck to feel, I barely knew what to do. I was pregnant by a married man that I’d been sleeping with for three years. A married, famous man at that. Who I finally decided I needed to move on from.” 

Revisiting this is harder than you expected, harder than when you rehearsed it on your drive here. “I was scared, Joe, okay? I was scared, so I—I did what I thought was best at that time, and clearly it was wrong. I 100% own up to that, and you get to be angry with me, but you don’t get to let that anger influence your decision making, because it is.” 

This is the part you debated so deeply on whether to say or not say, to potentially poke the already irate bear. But, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t speak up for yourself and your daughter. “You want a legal custody arrangement, and I understand why, but—Joe, your name isn’t even on her birth certificate, but to tell you the truth…..I wanted it to be. I did.” Whether he believes you or not is on him, but it’s true. Because while he wasn't present in her life, he was still her father. Nothing would change that. “They wouldn’t do it without you present and without a paternity test—”

“I could have been there,” he interrupts, sounding more hurt than anything. “I should have been there.” 

“You’re right, but you weren’t, and I’m sorry for that too. I’m not trying to make any excuses here, just lay out facts. And the fact is that you can get a paternity test, you can establish paternity, and you can try to secure joint custody, but we both know there’s no way you can take her on. You work nonstop, Joe, and she can’t be on the road like that. She’s four for fucks sake. Calista needs stability, and she has that with me. You know I’m right.”

And you can see that he sees you’re right, the wheels turning in his head as he takes in your sound predictions.

“And I know you don’t right now, and that’s okay, but I am asking you to please trust me enough to know that I will not get in the way of you getting to know Calista. Trust that I only want what’s best for her, I’ve only ever wanted what was best for her.”

“Why should I?” Despite his words, you can see and hear the crumbling of his defenses, of the brick and mortar wall he'd erected earlier during the first round of this conversation. “What’s different now?”

“Because she asked about you.” This is the part that crushes you the most, that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself for even putting her in that situation. “Because she thinks you’re not in her life because she’s not a good girl, and I will not have my child grow up thinking she wasn’t good enough for her father to want to be in her life.”

You won’t let her grow up like you.

Period.

Having this discussion, saying these things aloud, you’re slowly starting to recognize how some of your own unaddressed issues have contributed to this situation. How your refusal to confront buried trauma has bled into another generation. It’s…..uncomfortable, to say the least.

And something you definitely need to revisit, probably sooner rather than later. Just…not right now. 

You’ve got to sort this through first.

It’s after a few minutes of silence that he finally speaks, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re right.” You let out a deep breath, nearly falling back at his words. You knew he was wavering but not to the point where he would yield. “I know….I know our situation is complicated, and I’m sorry for being so cold with you. I just—fuck, I don’t know how to process all of this.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Neither do I, but we can figure it out, because we can’t…..we can’t put her through a custody battle. I won’t do that.” Despite your very valid facts, you also recognize that while he probably wouldn’t win, he has access to the best legal team money can buy and would outlast you in court by miles. 

You won’t say it aloud, not even sure if you can, but you’d soon rather concede than put her through that. You’d give him whatever he asked for if it meant sparing her from that trauma. 

It’s a far cry from your stance hours earlier, but time and actually thinking things through made you realize the pain you’d experience at having Callie taken from you would be nothing compared to what that experience would do to her. You know custody disputes can be long and nasty, and though she was still young, you didn’t want to find out if they would question her. 

You’d sacrifice your soul and surrender. 

You loved her enough to let her go.

“You’re right.” He repeats himself, even and calm. It’s such a stark difference for both of you compared to the blowup from earlier. There’s actual communication occurring, talking with each other, instead of at each other. Listening to hear, not to react. “I—I couldn’t do that to you. I spoke out of anger. My schedule is crazy and she needs stability. You give her that.”

There’s an insurmountable amount of relief that washes over you at his words. It’s night and day from the angry—though rightfully—man that stood before you earlier today. And you couldn’t be more grateful. 

“Thank you.” There aren’t enough words to adequately express the depth of your gratitude. Joe is well within his right to be upset, and like you said, you’ll take whatever that is, so long as the both of you can agree that Callie being with you is for the best. For her, but for you too. You won’t deny that. Your daughter is your life, and the thought of being without her, even for a period of time makes you sick to your stomach. “I–” You wipe your eyes, completely unaware that you’d been crying at one point, the tears starting to dry up. “I’m taking off work tomorrow and keeping her home. You…you can come over once I pick her up from Mariah's."

His eyes light up with appreciation that matches your own for his willingness to look past his feelings to do what’s best for your child. “Yeah?”

You offer a small smile. “I’ll probably get her around 10 and text you when you can head over.”

He nods, and the excitement in his expression warms you. It’s so strange how you can go through so many emotions in such a short time regarding the man in front of you. He always has been able to evoke things out of you that no one else could.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he takes you in, assessing you, it makes you shift your weight from one foot to another. Your hoodie suddenly feels too heavy, warmth climbing up to your cheeks. “I—” You gesture to the door with your thumb. “I should head out.” 

It’s when you turn to leave that he grabs your wrist to stop you. 

“Where are you going?”

Your brow lifts at his tone and words, confused by the quick change and his hand on your arm. “Umm, home?” 

“Like hell you are.” His dismissal is firm and final as he informs, “you'll crash here tonight.” Your face must be painted in defiance, because he explains, “it's almost 2 in the morning, and you look exhausted. I'm not letting you get on the road. Anything could happen.”

“Joe—”

He lifts his hand, silencing you as he points to the middle of the room. “You can take the bed. It's uncomfortable anyway.”

Ironically, a small yawn escapes, further proving his point. You are exhausted, in several different ways. The idea of driving back home right now is not nearly as appealing as sleeping off the day's events. “Okay.” Remembering his comment, you add, “you could have picked one of those fancy hotels ya'll stay in, you know.”

“I don't think there's anything ‘fancy’ within 30 miles of here.” He's not entirely wrong, the town's local steakhouse is considered the definition of fine dining and hotspot for special occasions. 

“There were once rumors of a Hilton being built.”

He looks almost hopeful. “When was that?”

You bite down on your lip. “When I was in middle school.” A small laugh escapes at his look of exasperation. 

“You should take the bed. It's gotta be more comfortable than the alternative.” Truly, because the idea of Joe's big ass trying to sleep on a damn fold out sofa is both hilarious and tragic. “I just need a shirt.”

He looks at you. “A shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Because…..”

Rolling your eyes, you tug at your old college hoodie. “I can't sleep in this. It's uncomfortable as hell. I dress light at night. You know—” And you stop yourself, because he shouldn’t remember that you always sleep in either a big shirt or thin top and shorts, never more, oftentimes nothing at all when he was in town.

For obvious reasons.

You’re grateful when he turns away and digs through his bag, probably the only one he took with him. He always traveled lightly. He comes back, reaching you one of his black t-shirts. 

“Thanks.” Accepting the item, you walk over to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Standing in the mirror, you take in your appearance. Joe was being nice by saying you look exhausted, cause you look like shit, every bit of the days events, loud and blaring. Blowing out a breath, you start removing your clothes but pause when you go to remove your bra.

Is that….is that too much? You haven’t slept in a bra in years. Not since puberty randomly hit you over the summer between freshman and sophomore year, where you went from a modest A cup to a whopping D. And post Callie body definitely wasn’t a D anymore. It just seems….it seems indecorous. 

Deciding to go with safe instead of sorry, you swallow your discomfort and keep your bra on. With the hair tie on your wrist, you do your best to pineapple your hair, knowing good and well it’ll be frizzfest when you wake up but not really caring. 

Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk out the bathroom only to turn into a scowl as you find Joe sitting on the sofa on his phone.

If it wasn’t so late and you weren’t so tired, you’d argue with him why it’s stupid of you to take the bed. He’s at least a foot taller than you. But, you don’t have it in you so just mutter “stubborn asshole,” place your folded clothes on the dresser, and climb into the bed. 

You double check your alarm is still set for the right time and lean across the bed to place it on the nightstand. There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you for a couple of minutes, your eyes closing as you try to sleep, even if for a couple of hours before you have to get back on the road. 

“What is she like?”

Your eyes open at his question, unexpected but understood. You think about it, wondering how to answer, how to explain all of the wonderful things that is your child. Finally, you settle on an answer, soft and honest. 

“You'll find out for yourself tomorrow.” And turning on your side, you murmur, “goodnight, Joe.”

He doesn’t say anything after that.

But while you sleep with the hope of believing that this can be worked out between the two of you, Joe lies awake, taking his turn with mind running a mile a minute.

He knew this would be difficult, knew it was going to get ugly to some extent, but what he didn’t expect was how impacted he'd be by seeing you again.

There was a stark difference between seeing you in photos and seeing you in person. His anger at the situation helped him to not react as strongly, but not as much as he liked or needed it to.

Because regardless of all his outrage, he’d missed you.

Even with your deception, with your deceit and all of his confusing emotions toward you in this whole situation, he missed you. 

Joe might not be ready to admit it aloud, but he’s never gotten over you. And not for lack of trying. He’d had a period where he tried to fuck away his feelings, tried to busy himself in between the legs of other women, his favorite distraction when he was in his twenties. Tried to remind himself that it was never meant to turn into anything anyway, that it wasn’t a big deal. But his efforts were fruitless and a waste of time.

He cared about you, he cared about you, arguably, more than he’d ever cared about a woman. Even….even Jadah.

The night you ended things was still a sore spot for him, still something he plays over in his head trying to make sense of. On the surface level, it’s pretty plain and simple. You wanted more, he couldn’t give it to you, so you moved on. 1+1. He was legally married for fucks sake. He couldn’t blame you for wanting more, but there was also a part of him that wondered why you didn’t just ask him for more.

Then again, that went both ways. Why didn’t he ask you for more?

It’s easy to say it was because of Jadah, because of his marriage, and that was both true and untrue. On his part, anyway. Divorce was easy in name but far from it in every other area. And for him, meant being forced to confront demons he tried his best to keep at bay. Up until two months ago, at least

Joe closes his eyes. This is all too much. 

He came here ready to confront you, and he had, in fucked up way, even if partially deserved. He came here to meet his daughter, to begin to form a bond with her, and he will do that. He just has to push the complicated feelings for you to the side and place them on the backburner until he can sort through that mess.

Calista is his priority right now. Whatever this is between you and him can be figured out later.

Hopefully. 

________

“She can be shy until she gets to know you.”

The day seems to have escaped you, getting on the road early in the morning to drive back and prepare to pick up Callie. She’s thrilled to see you, and vice versa. The two of you spend the beginning of the morning together, stopping at a local diner to share a breakfast before heading back to your apartment. You spend a little more time together, one on one, before texting Joe to head over, staying true to your word. 

Especially since he informed you that he had to fly out tomorrow morning. You expected as such, knowing he’d probably already been gone longer than higher ups liked. He could only push the limits so much. 

You don’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s nervous, an understandable but strange thing. Weird almost. Joe’s a lot of things, but nervous has never been one of them. “But once she gets comfortable, she won’t shut up.” That makes him smile, and you’re grateful for that.  Sure enough, you find Callie in her playroom, which used to be your office space, but the more spoiled she became from your mom, the more you realized her room was too small for all of her stuff. “Hey, Callie Bear.”

Callie looks up, smile bright as she runs over to you. You lean down to meet her hug. She gives the best, loving hugs. “I’m making you something, mommy.”

You gasp. “You are? Well, I can’t wait to see it.”

“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” She lifts her little finger, wagging it in your face. Laughing, you nod and push back some of her curls. Callie’s eyes then land on Joe’s massive frame standing near the doorway, silently observing. You can see the emotions so clearly on his face: surprise, shock, happiness.

Callie’s smile dims as she moves closer to you, holding you close, her stranger danger kicking in. A small part of you is grateful that even at almost five, she knows to be cautious. Then there’s the other part of you that’s saddened at the fact that the “stranger” she’s cautious of is her own father. “Baby, this is….this is….”

“I’m Joe,” he finishes for you, and you’re both grateful and annoyed. Conflicted because a small part of you wanted to be the one to tell her, but also grateful he ironically took that responsibility off of you. “I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”

Welp.

That’s not….that’s not what you expected him to say, not what you two discussed. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but you were under the impression that they would tell her the truth. His statement isn’t exactly a lie, you did once consider Joe to be a friend, much more than that, but still. Joe’s role in Callie’s life is significantly more than that. 

This seems to ebb away some of Callie’s caution as she asks, “really?” Her eyes fall on you, almost looking for approval. With a tight smile, you nod, giving her the relief she needs to loosen her hold on you. “Do you like Disney?” That causes you to genuinely laugh, something your sweet child definitely inherited from both you and your mom was a love of Disney. 

“I do,” he answers, and you pause. Does he really? Perhaps. Regardless, it’s a smart answer for your Disney loving child. “Do you?”

Callie nods happily, grabbing your arm and twisting it to show the ‘remember who you are’ tattoo on your wrist. “Mommy and grandma have Disney tattoos, and mommy’s gonna get a Moana one for me!”

“Really?” Joe, now crouched down to be at her eye level, sounds genuinely interested, and maybe he is. Callie is impressively charismatic at only four. She’s also his daughter who he’s wanting to develop a relationship with, so it’s not far-fetched that she could be talking to him about the rate at which grass grows, and he would entertain it like he was watching a 49ers game. “You like Moana?”

Is water wet? “She’s the bestest! Right, mommy?” 

You chuckle, fixing her shirt. “She watches it almost every day.” You always found it interesting, ironic even, that your daughter instantly gravitated to Moana, unaware that the voice of freaking Maui is her cousin, that she too had pacific islander ancestry. Through her dad. The dad you kept from her. 

“You know I don’t know if I’ve seen that one—”

Callie’s mouth drops open as she looks at you, “mommy, can we watch it? Please? Please? Pleeeeaaassseeee?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you relent after pretending to think about it. You like to limit her screentime to two hours, and even though she already watched The Princess and the Frog earlier for the 97th time this month, there was no way you were not gonna allow this bonding opportunity. 

Squealing, Callie surprises you by breaking away and moving over to Joe, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go, Joe!” She pulls on the sleeve of his hoodie, probably to lead him into the living room where Disney Plus is signed in. 

Alone in her playroom, you run over what just happened. You thought you would tell her the truth, tell her that this is the father she was asking about, the one she thought didn’t want her when in actuality, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

And for a second, you get pissed off. Why wasn’t Joe honest with her? Isn’t this what he wanted? To be in her life. It’s confusing. He is confusing. But….you try to give him the benefit of the doubt, certain that he must have some reason behind his actions. You just hope they’re damn good reasons.

“Mommy!” You know that tone of hers, the tone that tells you a request is to follow. 

You shout back, “yes?”

“Joe likes popcorn too! Can we have some?”

You laugh and shake your head, shouting out an ‘okay’. Walking out of the room and into the living room, you find Callie near the TV, arm outstretched as she explains every detail of Moana, even the most obvious ones. But, Joe is sitting on the sofa, watching and listening intently. His smile is stapled. 

He looks…..he looks so happy.

Moving into the kitchen, you move around quietly to not interrupt and to get their popcorn made.

Waiting for the popcorn to finish, you hear Callie ‘whisper’ to Joe, “Mommy can’t cook, but she makes good snacks.”

Amid his laughter, you walk near the living room, hands on her hips. “I heard that, little ms. ma’am.”

“That’s what Grandma says,” Callie defends with a shrug of her little shoulders. “She says mommy is pretty and smart and funny, but she burns water.” She looks off, confused, as if it’s finally registering to her that that doesn’t make sense. “Mommy, how do you burn water?”

Joe is on the sofa, hand over his mouth, fighting for his life. You also can’t help but laugh at the absolutely serious look on her face. “Finish your movie.” 

The microwave dings, so you grab two bowls and fill them up equally. Delivering them to both, you place hers on the coffee table as she’s back to narrating. “Popcorn, as requested.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes go wide with excitement as she suddenly asks, “will you watch it with us?”

Damn. You had a feeling she would ask but was hoping she wouldn’t. Disappointing her twice in one weekend felt criminal. “Callie, I'm super behind with work.”

“Pleeeeasssseeee.” She starts with the begging again and then looks at Joe to inform him, “mommy’s a teacher. Do you have a job?”

Joe chuckles. “I do.”

“What do you do?” She asks in a sing-song tone. You give him that ‘I told you she never shuts up’ look. 

“I’m a professional wrestler.”

She’s clearly intrigued, asking, “are you actually good?”

“Callie!” This little girl and her lack of filter sometimes never ceases to amaze you. Your mom swears up and down it’s your payback from how blunt you were as a child. 

You’re starting to believe it.

Joe gives a shrug, clearly loving every bit of this. You can tell he wants her to keep the questions coming. He’ll answer em’ all if it means getting to spend time with her. “I’m alright.”

At that, you give him a look and crouch down to her level. “He’s very good.” You take the remote and quickly pause the TV, adding on, “matter of fact, he’s the universal undisputed champion.” Joe gives you a look, and you can tell he’s surprised by you knowing this piece of information.

You don’t watch wrestling as much as you used to, partially due to what happened between the two of you, mostly because you don’t have the time, but even non-wrestling people know about Roman Reigns and his current, historic title reign. You’re not sure if you’d feel entirely comfortable saying it to him, but you’re massively proud of Joe and all he’s accomplished. You always knew he could do it.

Her eyes widen with excitement and curiosity as she looks at Joe for clarification. “Really?”

“That is true.” 

Head tilted, she moves away from you and climbs on the sofa to sit next to him. Her little legs crossed over as she continues with the questions. “What does undis—undis—”

He helps her out, also angling his body more toward her. “Undisputed?” 

“Yeah! What does that mean?”

You can see he’s taking a minute to decide how to answer. “It means I don’t lose. Ever.”

“Whoooaaaa,” she breathes, obviously impressed. “You must eat a lot of veggies. I don’t like them, but mommy says they make you big and strong.”

“Your mom is right,” he agrees and looks her over. “You’re a very smart little girl. How old are you again? Like 15?”

“No, I’m four!” She giggles and lifts up four fingers. “But, I’ll be five on May 19th!”

His gaze softens. “Your birthday is in May?” She nods, happily. His smile is warm, emotional. “So is mine.”

You still for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about that, that her birthday was just days away from his. There’s something strangely sweet and moving about this fact, both to you and definitely to him.

“Really?” 

And that’s how it plays out for the rest of the day, a combination of Callie’s incessant questions, intermittent viewing of Moana and parts of Encanto. Lunch and dinner sprinkled somewhere in between. You’re even able to sneak off to do your lesson planning, Callie more than fine with just Joe to entertain her.

It warms your heart to see them connect almost instantaneously.

It’s why you wait as long as you can to interrupt, never wanting to do so, to invade their moment. But, you also know your daughter, know that she needs a certain amount of sleep to function the next day. And when you check in on them and catch her yawning, you know it’s unfortunately that time.

Sighing, you enter the living room with your arms crossed. “Callie Bear, it’s time to start getting ready for bed, mamas.”

“Nooo.” She whines. “I’m not tired.” Her groggy voice and scowl would indicate otherwise. 

“Of course, you’re not.” You bend down in front of her and reach for her hand. “Come on, we gotta tell Joe bye. He’s gotta get back to his hotel.” Despite her obvious objections, she climbs off the sofa and accepts your hand but not before looking at him. 

“Will you come over again tomorrow?” She asks with hopeful eyes and a voice of excitement, both things that make being honest with her that much harder.

He obviously doesn’t want to give her the truth, but it’s better than the alternative. With a frown, he answers, “I wish….but I’ve gotta get back to work tomorrow, Callie.”

Her smile drops, and sadness arises. “Why? Do you have to go?” Her quiet voice is comprised of disappointment and despondency. You can tell it hurts him. Her hope is dashed, replaced with sadness. “When will you come back?”

“As soon as he can.” You jump in to assist, hating the way he looks so devastated not having a specific date for her. Truth be told, you wouldn’t be surprised if he won’t be able to get away for another few weeks, if not more. “And you know what, you can use my iPad to Facetime him when he’s available anytime you want.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?” 

“Of course,” he assures. He reaches to push some hair out of her face. “I’ll call you whenever I can.”

She gives him a small smile. “You promise?” 

Joe swallows. “I promise, sweetheart.” 

Pleased and obviously ecstatic at this information, she surprises the both of you by tearing her hand from you to throw her little arms around him for an unexpected hug. You’re not sure why, but the sight makes your eyes water. His eyes close as he gently wraps his arms around her as well. You look away, almost uncomfortable interrupting this moment between the two of them.

When she pulls away, you swear you see disappointment reappear in his eyes. “Bye, Joe.” 

She returns to your side, and you gently direct her, “go put on your jammies and pick out a book. I’ll be right there in a few minutes, okay?” 

“Okay, mommy.” Without protest, she turns and heads back to her room. When it’s just the two of you, you turn to him, “she really likes you.” It feels silly saying such a thing. He’s her father. She should like him. She should love him.

But you also know better than anyone that being someone’s biological parent doesn’t automatically make them a parent. 

“That’s why you didn’t tell her, isn’t it? You want to gain her friendship first.” In watching and participating in the interaction between them, it dawned on you just why he didn’t tell her right away. Joe wanted to first establish a baseline with Callie, wanted her to get to know him just for him, to bond with him not because he was her dad, but because she wanted to. 

And clearly….clearly it worked. 

“She’s amazing,” he whispers. You see he’s still caught up in the emotion of it all, meeting his daughter for the first time, connecting with her as quickly and easily as he has.

“She is,” you agree, suddenly remembering why you’d dismissed Callie. “I–I uhh, I have something for you.” Standing back up—your knees were gonna hate you tomorrow—you pull the thumbdrive out of the back pocket of your jeans. He also stands with you. “I was that new mom who was intent on documenting every single thing my kid did, and I’m kinda glad I did now.” You reach and drop it in his open palm. “I got everything on video. Her first word, first time crawling, first time walking….all of it.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his silence, you add on, “I know it’s not the same as being there, but—”

“Thank you.” he interrupts in a quiet voice, immensely grateful to you at this moment. “Thank you, Y/N.” 

Emotion seems to be the keyword of the day, because yours are also all over the place, for a variety of reasons. It’s an experience that’s both overwhelming and confusing, but also….nice? You can’t necessarily describe it, but there’s something comforting about Joe having a role in Callie’s life.

But that doesn’t equate with your decision to not tell him about her in the first place, hence why you’re a hot ass, confused mess.

He’s making you feel things again, and you don’t like it. 

“I know getting back here won’t be easy, especially with the holidays rolling around. But, whenever you can come, you’re welcome. I mean it.” Thanksgiving is less than 3 weeks away. You’re highly doubtful he’ll be touching down before then. “Christmas is her favorite holiday. I know she’d love to have you here for that.”

“I’ll be back before Christmas and for Christmas.” You don’t know how, but you do know he’s convinced of it, and you don’t put it past him. He seems entirely determined. 

“Okay.” You walk him to the door, unsure why your bodies being so close to each other is an uncomfortable yet pleasing feeling. “Oh,” you suddenly remember something. “You need to make a Snapchat account.”

He scowls almost instantly. “A what?” A small laugh escapes you at his instant disgust. “I’m too old for that shit.”

“We both are, but it’s an easy way for me to share Callie and all her randomness with people. Make it and send me the username. I’ll add you.” It seems all it takes is for you to mention Callie, and he’s sold. He nods in agreement, all distaste washed away with the eagerness of receiving photos and videos of Callie on the regular. You keep your hand on the door, chewing on your lip, murmuring, “Goodnight, Joe.” 

He gives you a look, something unspoken in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Closing the door behind you, you lock it and take a deep breath, unsure why your stomach is in knots. Not from anxiety or fear but happiness. 

You’re happy to have Joe back in your life, even with all of the bullshit that’s transpired in this single day. There’s something relieving about having him around, and you know it’s for Callie. It needs to be just for Callie, because what you can never do again is allow yourself to fall back into that situation. 

No matter how badly your heart and your head are clashing right now.

No matter how much you're starting to wonder if your heart ever really left that situation.

[smooth-perceval]

“Hey mon amour”

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Charles closed himself from the world after loosing his wife, he finally finds the strength in their daughter to publicly speak about her.

Warnings: Angst, grief, mentions of readers death, a lot of tears- Charles thinking his a bad father, Charles talking to himself a lot- swearing, Google translate.

Key: Y/N (Your Name) Juliette (Your daughters name) Jules (Her nickname)

Word count: 2,523

A/N: I watched this video on TikTok and it just made me think of doing something sad… I’m sorry 🫶🏼 it’s rushed and it’s all over the place but I needed to get some ‘emotions’ out I guess 🫶🏼

Was we prepared for a baby? Hell no- Juliette truthfully was an accident- but the best kind. Without her I definitely wouldn’t have stuck around these past 7 months. I’d be up there… painting that sky beautiful with mon amour. (My love)

Laying there in bed I watched her sleep soundly, she had her maman’s nose, lips, hair and cute puffy cheeks. The only thing of mine was her eyes- she definitely got the better parents looks, absolutely perfect in every way. (Mum)

Since the passing of her, as bad as it is, I slept with Juliette by my side, wether it was in her crib and then waking up at stupid hours in the morning and putting her into my bed, or even just falling asleep in her room, with a pillow and blankets on the floor.

She held me together every day, kept me sane- otherwise I talk to myself, or talk to them up there, or better yet curl up in a ball and cry.

Nobody knew of Juliette, I hid her at all cost- in fact nobody knew we had a baby, we kept it very hidden and was going to slowly introduce her to the F1 world, it wasn’t a world for out little girl yet, she had to be protected.

And yet all this time we was protecting her, that I wasn’t there to protect my darling.

The night we lost her even till now feels surreal. Not only 10 minutes before the accident had she called me to tell me she was on her way back home… and the pain I felt when she didn’t show- I knew then, I knew our lives would change… I just didn’t know how drastic.

That night a guy ran a stop light, taking a wife, a mother, a friend, a fan- taking the one person who helped me breathe in a room of no air, helped me swim when I was drowning in a sea of judgement, the woman that gifted me the most precious thing anyone could ever give, our baby girl.

He just took it- in the blink of an eye.

I forgot how to breathe when she was gone, forgot how to tread water, forgot to be a dad. My body didn’t function, my brain shut down.

Maman said I was a ghost yet still alive, she cared for Juliette while I tried to find some sanity in the world, a world I held nothing but anger against. And when I was finally able to figure out how to breathe alone, I kept Juliette with me, day in day out. And with her around I felt lighter, like the world wasn’t pinning me down- like I had a purpose.

I had to show our baby, even though it left a bitter taste on my tongue- that the world was beautiful.

Because what do you do in life, when the one person who understood you more than anything is gone?

Juliette gave me life, and every time I look over at her, the more I remember what I’m doing this ‘life’ for. It’s to see that little tooth that’s slowly coming through, or the dimple on her cheek when her father does something silly, or when we’re lying in bed watching cartoons, and she reaches her hand up to hold my face.

That’s why I continue. All for our little girl.

Leaning over to her I placed a gentle kiss to her temple, before getting out of bed. Ensuring she was safe I bundled pillows and blankets around her in case she decided to roll over.

And while she slept peacefully I started getting a few things ready for tonight.

Tonight was the awards, and it took a lot of thought, but I finally came to the conclusion that I didn’t want to leave Jules at home- wether she was hidden at the side lines or tucked away in my pocket- I needed her there.

I made one special request to the team- which of course they wouldn’t refuse. The tux I was fixing to wear tonight had red somewhere wether it was a tie, or the inside lining. We needed red-

For fans, and Ferrari itself it was a sweet token of my appreciation to them. For me and Juliette is was for our angel.

Red is Y/N colour, always looked gorgeous in anything red- always smiling when she see a red rose, or a red sky- so every morning and evening she decorates the sky, like a reminder that she is there.

It’s my coffee in the morning seeing that sky, and my lullaby at night.

Sighing to myself, I closed off my thoughts heading into the bathroom. I got changed into a simple tracksuit. Seeing as it’s a distance to travel, and I would need comfort over fashion right now-

Humming softly to myself I shuffled back into the bedroom, laying down across the bed- my hand reached out brushing over her head.

“princesse, time to wake up.” (Princess)

And slowly but surely, her eyes slowly opened, as soon as she saw me a smile crept onto her face, that one tooth showing, and the dimple making an appearance.

“You a happy girl?” Smiling back at her, she slowly crept up onto all fours, rocking back and fourth.

She has learned quite quickly for her age, being able to crawl and nearly say dada- I was proud of her, she had a fire in her just like her dad. Wanted to be the best at everything-

“Come my darling, we need breakfast-” sliding back off the bed I reached over picking her up, kicking her legs excitedly she reached out to me and once in range gripped ahold of my nose- a loud happy squeal leaving her small self.

“A very happy girl huh-” laughing a little, bouncing her on my hip- I took us both downstairs and into the kitchen.

We’re still between having milk, jar foods, sometimes Papas food. A mixture of everything. Juliette will eat anything!

I can honestly say one thing with my hand on my heart. We have made the best baby. Always smiling, always happy- when she ‘cries’ it’s more of a murmur, a little quiver of her lip. But never a scream and shout, she is always loving- always kind. The most perfect little girl.

—

The evening soon fell upon us, it was a hustle and bustle getting here but we made it! Jules was content as ever, if anything the most calm out of us all.

Looking over at her in her car seat- she was sound asleep. I took a quick glance down at my watch humming an approval to myself.

Juliette sleeping now works out perfectly for her bed time later- Honestly when I say she is the perfect baby- I mean it, in all the craziness getting ready she was her happy little self, and clearly worn herself out playing in the hotel room- especially to be sleeping so peacefully now on the way to the event.

The event was the FIA awards. With all my anger towards this cruel world I focused it on track, you wouldn’t believe where I got…

World champion of the world.

But as proud as I wanted to be of myself… it just didn’t feel right without her here.

Even now- it just feels like a blur. World champion of the world? Doesn’t seem real to me.

—

I hated being late to anything. But in this case I wanted to arrive late, I wanted Juliette in the room with me. Like I keep saying she is my rock. Motivated me to keep going it only seemed right.

Rocking Juliette back and fourth I slid into the back of the room, cradling her and hiding her face- I wanted to do this but some sense of me wasn’t ready to let the world see my baby. And I wasn’t ready for my baby to see this kind of world…

Creeping over to the Ferrari table, I quickly sat down placing Juliette’s baby bag next to my chair- avoiding eyes, and making sure Jules was okay.

She found entertainment in hitting my un-used spoon onto the table, seeing as I skipped when the served dinner.

Finally finding the courage I looked up, Carlos eyes were on me. A small smile on his face, Carlos obviously knew about Jules, he had to know his my teammate, mostly all the inner track know- but they had never really met her.

The ones who have- Jules absolutely loves them. A good example is Carlos, once she realises his across the table- by any means necessary she will crawl her way across too him.

Can’t blame her- when she finally has him the grip on his hair, she pulls hard and doesn’t let go, understandable I can sometimes pull his hair out in annoyance.

“And now- the moment has finally come. Not just for us to witness. But for him to finally receive.” Most of the presenters words fell onto my deaf ears.

And I just waited for my name to be called.

When it was, I slowly got up from my seat, Jules hugged to my chest. Once again cradling her, hand on the back of her head, still trying to protect her from everyone…

Slowly making my way up the steps, making sure not to trip over. The sounds of aw’s and gasps are heard around the room-

Walking along the ‘path’ Jules looked around at everyone mesmerised by the lights.

“Thank you- er…” looking down at my arms with a smile at Jules I looked back at the trophy.

“We will just place it down here-” the man smiled at me, crouching and placing it on the floor next to the mic.

“Well- thank you.” Shifting Juliette over onto my other hip I bounced her gently- she was still in awe at the room.

“I’d like to start by saying a big thank you to the Ferrari team, this championship wouldn’t have been possible without you, I’d like to say a congratulations to my teammate Carlos for getting second in the championship, and another congratulations to Ferrari for winning the constructors award.” Jules hand came up and covered over my mouth, looking down at her I smiled happily- she really was in her own world and reaching out wherever.

“Now I know a lot don’t want to listen, and I’m sorry- but this is the first time I’ve really spoken in 6 months… to you guys- and also all you fans at home-” pausing I swallowed thickly, lifting Jules back up higher on my hip.

“I’d like to introduce you all to, Juliette Pascal Leclerc. She was born March the 4th, at 7 minutes past 3 in the morning.” A low applauded sounded through the room, Juliette looking around at them all, joining in their clapping. Now making everyone laugh.

“She is the most brightest baby I know- always smiling, always happy. Very much like her maman.” (Mum) Pausing I looked over at Carlos. Who quickly nodded his head over at me. A silent support in the crowd.

“As most know… we lost our Y/N back in May… it’s been tough- some days I couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t function. Hell I wasn’t even a good dad for our Jules here.” As I said her nickname, more awes were heard throughout the room.

Opening my mouth- then closing it again quickly I looked down at Jules, who’s head was now resting on my shoulder, staring up at me with her beautiful eyes. My eyes started welling up with tears I look back over around the room, stepping away from the mic I took a second to compose myself before moving back in.

“She would be so proud today, every year she would say ‘This is your year Charlie, I can feel it.’ She was right this year…” breathing out heavily I used my hand to quickly wipe my eyes, then wrapping it back around Jules- if possible even tighter.

“She just isn’t here to witness it happening.”

Jules hand reaches up once again, hand on my cheek- like she was comforting me.

“When she was taken, so was me truthfully. That Charles had went with her… she was kind hearted, had a heart of gold. Days like today when I run out of socialisation, she would always come over, and just say something so simple like ‘Charles, you ready to go?’ Pull me straight out that dark hole.” Smiling a little to myself, I finally let the tears go. Jules started to fidget, getting antsy waiting around, and to my need Carlos stood infront of the stage holding his hands out, Jules as always was ecstatic to go to Carlos.

“Thank you-” smiling down at Jules I stepped back to the mic, finally picking my award up.

“Well you was right baby, this was our year.” Raising the award a little to the roof I pointed up at her also.

Sighing to myself, I wiped my face once again. “I tell you what-” it was a waste of energy wiping my face, cause the tears fell once again.

“I miss her- everyday… I’m sorry- I get emotional…” Chewing the inside of my cheek I looked down at my feet, the tears not stopping now.

“It’s just so hard without her…” sniffling I breathed in, trying to control myself.

“What am I supposed to do now… I done what I said I’ll do.” Looking up slightly at the trophy. I see myself in the reflection.

“This is for you my darling, it was my year after all.” Kissing the top of the trophy. I turned back to everyone.

“Thank you- I’m sorry for being a absolute mess…” smiling apologetically I waved at whoever, making my way back off the stage to a standing ovation. Cheers and applauds around the room.

Once I got near to Carlos, Juliette was practically bouncing off his hip, hands outstretched to me. And without question I put the trophy down on the floor, taking Jules back into my arms, holding her close, swaying back and fourth.

“My darling. You ready to go huh?” Leaning back I placed a kiss to her forehead. Bending down a little I grabbed her bag pulling it over my shoulder again.

“I’ll grab your trophy.” Smiling Carlos patted my shoulder, picking the trophy up and following behind me.

As soon as we was outside photos were being taken, quickly I hid Jules face.

“Guys you can take photos- just please turn the flash off-” smiling at them all, they was quick to play around on their phones and cameras. When confident in them all, I moved my hand away from Jules face.

“Thank you.”

Jules hand came into view pointing up at the sky.

“Mumumum” gasping I leaned back getting a view of her face- I was taking that as her first word, the best choice of first words-

Looking up at the red sky above us I kissed Jules cheek.

“That’s right baby, that’s Maman.” (Mum.)

Masterlist

[unfinishedslurs]

stonathan fwb (steddie)

this one is inspired by this fic by fivecenturiesverse

“Nancy and I broke up.”

“Shit,” Steve says, somehow managing to sound surprised. As if he and Nancy weren’t teetering on the verge of something throughout spring break. “That sucks, man.”

“It…was a long time coming, I think,” Jonathan admits. There’s a soft thump, like Steve clapping Jonathan’s shoulder in solidarity. 

They don’t say anything else, and Eddie almost leaves to go eavesdrop somewhere else when Jonathan speaks. 

“Are you…going to do anything about that?”

“About what?” Steve asks, genuine confusion in his voice. 

“Nancy.”

“Oh.” Steve doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Eddie braces himself to hear the truth. That he’s going to ask her out, ask to get married, ask her to have his six little nuggets and travel across the country together. “No.” 

Eddie’s brain record scratches. 

“Really?” Jonathan sounds rightfully skeptical. 

“Yeah, I don’t…” he lets out a nervous laugh, and Eddie can picture him raising a hand to scratch at the back of his head. “There’s…someone else, and I can’t…she’s amazing. Nancy, I mean. She’s, like, this huge person in my mind, you know? I wanted to love her so much, and I convinced myself she loved me back because it was easier than admitting I was clinging onto something that wasn’t meant to be. I kind of put my whole future on her. Figured if I could love any girl, it’d be the perfect one right in front of me.” He laughs again, hollow. “She was right, to call it bullshit. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“If it helps, I think she really did love you,” Jonathan says, sounding fake as all hell. 

Steve brushes him off. “No you don’t. It’s okay, it was never really real. Not like you guys. That…that really sucks, man.”

“It’s for the best, I think.” There’s a long pause. “You said…if you could love a girl, it would be Nancy.”

“…I did say that,” Steve says warily. Eddie has a feeling he really, really shouldn’t be listening to this, but he can’t bring himself to back away. 

“Do you…are you…” 

“If you’re going to be an asshole, I should tell you that I’ve been working out a lot since ‘83,” Steve interrupts. 

“I noticed,” Jonathan mutters. 

What. 

“What?”

“What?”

“I…nothing,” Steve sighs. 

There’s another, longer pause, filled with tension that Jonathan decides to take an emotional jackhammer to. “Do you want to fuck me?” 

What the fuck. 

Oh, God, he’s going to have to save Jonathan Byers from his tragically straight crush. From their mutual tragically straight crush? …their mutual tragically straight crush, who admitted to not liking girls? 

Something’s not adding up. 

“What the fuck, Byers?” Steve sounds angry, and Eddie prepares to jump in. “What, you think just because I’m queer I automatically want to sleep with you?”

What. 

“No!” Jonathan yelps. “No, that’s not it, it’s just…we’re both queer, and stuck here for the foreseeable future, and I’ve never been with a guy but I trust you.”

There’s a stunned silence. 

“You’re queer.”

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, probably dying of mortification. 

“You trust me?”

“Steve,” Jonathan says gently, and Eddie nearly bites through his tongue. “Of course I do.”

“You and Nancy just broke up,” Steve says, wavering. “And I can’t…there’s someone else. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You can say no. I just figured I’d ask.”

“Fuck,” Steve mutters. “You realize I’m just as in the dark here as you are, right? I’ve never been with a guy either.”

“We can find out together,” Jonathan says. “Only if you want to, though.”

A heavy silence, where Eddie has to bite his tongue to keep his cool. 

“Fuck it. Why the hell not?”

Then Eddie has to leave for the sake of his own sanity. Not before he hears the wet smack of a kiss, though. 

Eddie might be going insane. 

It’s like everywhere he looks he sees signs of Steve and Jonathan’s… development. Steve leans forward to grab something and his eyes catch on a hickey under his collar. Jonathan sits a little too gingerly one day, and Eddie’s immediately caught up in a fiery inferno of jealousy that he’s not the one sore from whatever Steve did last night. He has to leave the room. 

It gets even worse when Steve comes by DND wearing a shirt that is clearly Jonathan’s. 

“What are you wearing?” Dustin demands before he can. It’s probably a good thing he did, Eddie might have just started biting him to stake a claim. Which is a useless thought, because Steve isn’t his to claim at all. Steve is Jonathan’s. And stake a claim he did. 

He kind of wishes he could hate Jonathan, but he can’t. The guy’s just so sweet with his brother, and it’s obvious in the way he takes care of people that he’s a good guy. The kind of guy who deserves someone like Steve. Someone would have to be a crazy, fucked-up, jealous asshole to hate him. 

Eddie is all of those things. He’s also great at lying to himself. If he doesn’t admit he hates Jonathan Byers, fellow freak, for sleeping with the most unfortunately spectacular jock imaginable, he never has to confront his own failure to keep to his code. The doctrine that Steve cheerfully set on fire and then stomped the ashes into dust. All without knowing it, the asshole. 

He really can’t blame Jonathan. Eddie’s well aware that he’s made up some weird, one-sided rivalry in his head over Steve’s affections. It’s not his fault that one of them got the guy, and the other got to scream into his pillow at 2am. 

Sure, they both said they were hung up on other people, but how long would that really last? He’s fairly sure Steve was lying about having feelings for someone. Eddie can’t help but watch him, and he’s never once seen a sign Steve was interested in any of the other men he hung out with. 

Steve colors. “It’s Jonathan’s,” he says, picking at the band tee like he’s self-conscious about it. Which is ridiculous. He obviously knows he looks good in anything. “I…uh…spilled something on mine.”

From the way he talks, Eddie has a pretty good idea what exactly got on his shirt. He takes deep breaths, and tries not to chew through the table. He wishes Steve were in his band shirt instead. He’d look great in Judas Priest merch. 

He tries not to picture him in a Corroded Coffin shirt. He fails.

[auroraborealyss]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐬' 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬.

⊹ pairing: morpheus x reader

⊹ summary: how morpheus, dream of the endless, the king of dreams, or as you know him: your love, expresses his love

⊹ warnings: some explicit language, but mostly none (however my inputs are slightly out of control in this one—case and point: this note)

⊹ word count: 3107

𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 you are talking to the king of dreams. the Endless who's responsible for seeing what people dream about, what they're scared of, and managing it. this is also the same Endless who thought it would be a fun idea to put his power into three of his favourite things. of course gifts is going to be his main love language

as the lord of dreams, of course his first instinct is to give you whatever you want. to create whatever you wan. he genuinely finds pleasure in creating something himself to give to you

(dare i say a kink)

has definitely fashioned a dream after you. whatever impact you have on morpheus (make him warmer, kinder, see the beauty in humans and their short but well-lived lives, etc...), that dream because that for others

no need to buy new clothes when he can just make you whatever you want

you want the top half of that one dress but the bottom half of another? check your closet.

you want the new book from your favorite author but it doesn’t release for another six months? check your mail.

you want that chocolate that was discontinued? check your cabinets?

even if you’re not in the palace of the dreaming at all times, he insists that you live in one in the waking world. so he buys/inspires an architect to make you your dream apartment/house

if its an apartment and you live by yourself? still gets you a three bedroom for no fucking reason other than he wants you to be comfortable. there used to be a hill that blocked your window? your architect was inspired to demolish it. you want it back? your architect is inspired to build one

if it’s a house, insert lazy river (honestly, if i had the money to waste and spend, i’d get one for myself. alas, the only lazy river i get is when my sink overflows) cue to you casually floating on a donut floatie while reading a book, doing laps around your house over and over again

if you do a form of art, you’ll get a room dedicated to it. a library. a painter’s studio. a photography room. sculpting nook. all of it and more.

there is nothing you could want that he could not give you

and never ever bring up money unless you want a mysterious and rude amount of money deposited into your account to wake up to

he'll also go to great lengths if you need a particular item (exhibit a: him going into the lake to get gifts for the fates. he did all that for his items, so imagine what he'd do for you)

but you want to know what the best gift he gives you?

his coc

𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗰𝗲 this man will be begging for you to let him do things for you. in this essay—

(did you see the calliope episode? because that part of episode 1.11 is basically exhibit b for this section)

someone said something mean to you? bam. they will be plagued by nightmares of someone he loves saying those things to him until he dies.

if you’re a better person than him and won’t let him mentally torture people for as long as he likes and thinks they deserve, he’ll omit telling you that he’s torturing people. what you don’t know, won’t hurt, right?

but if you’re flirting with the line that is morally good and you do consent to letting him torture people, he might show you his progress on them and their decaying sanity

“look at what i have done with the love i have for you.”

you still get nightmares when you sleep, not because he wants to hurt you, but because nightmares can actually help you. dreams can inspire us to be better, but so can nightmares. for example, being visited by a nightmare that shows you your fear of failing that test makes you wake up and be motivated to study. what he does do for you is restrain the nightmares? he lets them scare you enough to act as a motivator, but not extremely that you are crippled with fear and anxiety

protective morpheus (currently sobbing)

when you wake and leave the Dreaming, he’s gone but there’s always a cup of coffee with you

acts of service also include making others do acts. rather than get a phone, forces matthew to carry messages between you and him instead.

if you're studying and need information on something, he'll have lucienne prepare a stack of books, and maybe even notes, for you to see to when you return to him in the Dreaming

but the biggest act of service he can do for you is meet your friends

lets you drag him to parties and dinner and brunches

might not socialize (probably will not), and you might find him standing in the corner becoming a shadow, but he won't bother you to leave until you want to

he'll watch you the whole time

takes care of your drinks (and everyone else's)

or, he might follow you around like a shadow. no matter who you talk to, he'll be standing beside you, an arm around your waist

if you're a social butterfly, he admires that about you

if you're more socially introverted, he'll hang out with you in the shadows and leave when you want to, even if you've only been there for five minutes

basically he's a simp—and he might actually proudly admit to being one because who's the one who's dating you in the end?

𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 before his confinement, he wasn’t the most physical person. he wouldn’t pull away, but he didn’t reach for you either, though he always secretly liked it. after his imprisonment, he begins to reach for you. not just that, but he begins to crave your touch. touch is how he reminds himself that he is with you, you are with him, and that he is free

in public, it’s limited but clear that you’re together

the last thing he needs is hearing matthews’ teasing squawks in his ear about morpheus being the endless version of a cat

when lucienne catches pda, she’ll at least be respectful and dignified and not comment, though she will be grinning like a cheshire cat and her eyes will keep looking

your arm around his when walking around

his hand on your back

then your lower back

brushing your hair out of your face

sitting close enough for shoulder and legs to touch

standing close

(once again, I bring up the calliope episode—someone stop me from rewatching that over and over again)

did you see how close they were standing? then, when you thought they were close enough, he takes an even closer step? that. THAT.

whatever concept you have of personal space, a personal bubble, this man is inside it. yes, your arms might be linked while walking. but your sides will be pressed together.

and while it might appear that you're the one who links your arms together, he is the one who already has his elbow slightly bent and held out towards you

when you do hold hands, his thumb brushes over your skin absentmindedly, as if feeling your warmth isn’t enough and it’s a constant reminder of him that you’re there

but when you do the same to him, or gods help him, you squeeze it, he, with every fibre of his being, will feel it and nearly stop from the overwhelming feelings that threaten to send him to the ground

so keep it sparingly

...or not

kisses in public..truthfully, he's probably leaning towards no. full on make out sessions? probably not. when you guys are saying goodbye, i’m seeing more of a tight, slightly awkward dip of the head—a farewell not

but, bringing that calliope episode up once again, he won’t don't anything if you were to initiate it.

kiss on the cheek? you better hold that position for a few fucking seconds so you can let that man close his eyes and savour the intimateness that is the feeling of your soft lips against his cold cheek.

why don’t you press your forehead against the side of his head while you’re at it? you know, when you’re done kissing him but before you pull away. think of it as giving him a few seconds to revert back to cold, formal morpheus, dream of the endless, and not your boyfriend/partner

stares at you when you’re not looking

stares at you even when you're looking

stares down at you when you're asleep in his arms

stares up at you when he's down on his knees between your—sorry, wrong fic

imagine those intense eyes just looking at you and not looking away, not ashamed at taking in the beauty that is his partner

he has no qualms when someone is staring at you, because how he can be blame them

but he does have qualms when their gaze turns into a leer. that's when he'll send a couple nightmares their way for a few directions. not to mention, he'll turn his gaze from you to glare them down, and because they have now deprived him from admiring you for the few seconds this last, he blames it on them and gives them a...gift (and a visit to desire if he finds out they had something to do with it)

on the rare occasion that he's actually using his throne and sitting on it rather than dramatically sitting on the steps after he spread his coat out around him, he might let you sit on his lap (nothing more...in public)

not straddling him—god no—but sitting horizontal so your legs are over his lap and your side is against his chest with your arms around his neck and his arms around your waist

he does that when he needs to relax

he might whisper his problems and insecurities in your ear

but in private—in private—this man is draped over you

he’ll be like a cat who actually likes his owner and will curl up on you

if you’re cuddling, you’ll lie with your head on his chest and his arm around your shoulders, maybe playing with your hair

he may or may not use a bit of his sand to help you sleep if you’re having troubles entering his realm, but with him drawing random shapes on your skin or the steady rise and fall of his chest, or, if you're really lucky, he's reading aloud in that quiet, low, asmr voice of his, you're gone all too quickly

he always feels a bit stiff when the cuddle session begins, but after you lie down on him long enough, his limbs soften before gripping onto you tighter

but back to that no-such-thing-as-a-personal-bubble with him

walls

bringing into evidence, exhibit c: episode 1.03 with johanna constantine

why does he have to be so physically close with everyone (that isn't me)

likes to walk you backwards until you hit a wall

once you hit that wall, he may or may not take an even closer step

then closer

and even closer, but his arms are still in his pockets because he's cool and edgy like that (and intimidatingly hot)

close enough until he's kissing you

then he'll press against you to be even closer

we can unpack the trauma that being separated from everyone he loves for 100 years and being physically separated by a wall of glass some other day. for now, enjoy his closeness

because basically, close is still too far for him

𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 not 24/7 hanging out, because he is the king of dreams and he has a realm to run, but he does spend his time with you wisely, and just because you're not with him all the time, doesn't mean he isn't thinking about you all the time

his favourite thing is the two of you being in each other’s presence but working on your own things. he appreciates it more than he realizes, and during the times you sit to the side as he makes new dreams, he’ll sometimes put aspects of you in them—intentionally or unintentionally

when you aren't together, he'll still be consumed with thoughts of you

he thinks of you all the time, actually. and because of that, he also talks about you all the time, sometimes subconsciously. and sometimes with no reason at all—or perhaps the only reason he needs to bring you up is because you're you and he's in love with you

"y/n did extremely well on her project, did you hear?" "did you hear about my report on the rogue nightmares, sir?" matthew asks. "she worked very hard on it. i'm proud of her."

thinks about you when doing research in the library with lucienne

wonders about you when going on walks with death

mentions you on dinners with hob

dates with him doesn't have to be the most exciting thrilling thing. in fact, he likes living in domestic bliss with you. doing dishes together. helping you with laundry. watching a movie. people watching. walking your pets.

he usually leaves you alone when you’re awake and uses that time for his duties while you’re busy doing awake things anyway, but when you do fall asleep and are in the dreaming, that’s when the two of you are always together, stuck at the hip (and we're back to the closeness)

takes you out to dinner everyday where he listens to you talk and rant about your day and give you suggestions. he eventually does the same with you, and you become the first person he goes to whenever he needs consultations for his problems

insert jealous hob when he finds him and you eating and morpheus actually talking to you and not just sitting there quietly like with him

but hob gets over it (he doesn’t) and sometimes he’ll join dinner with you guys.

family dinners in his realm with you, hob, death, lucienne, marvin (and only because you invited him), matthew (though morpheus gives him a dog bowl rather than a plate)

during the moments the two of you are together, he treasures and cherishes it

and during the moments when it's just the two of you together, he'll definitely make it worth both your while

drawing it out (if you know what i mean)

and i mean, teasing you for hours and sessions that go until you wake—

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ha no. did you see how emotionally constipated this man was? how he can't tell calliope he still loves her, admit to hob that they're friends, and ask for help from death? words are not the dream king's weapon

the most you get is a term of endearment, like my love or my beloved

always 'mine' though

but this Endless is not about to spout off a pride and prejudice speech at you, so don’t bother waking up early and going for a hike. just sleep and hang out with him in the Dreaming instead in silence

however he does have a beautiful voice—one that as his partner, you are allowed to take advantage of. cue making him read pride and prejudice at you (especially that speech: “you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love…i love…i love you. i never wish to b parted from you from this day on.”) you with his head on your lap, him sitting against a tree with the branches over the both of you for some shade. one hand is holding up the book, the other is absentmindedly twirling your hair. when he finishes the line, he looks down at you, slightly amused but completely enamoured, especially at the giddy expression on your face, and he dips down to kiss you

he tells you that he inspired jane austen to write that speech for you—it’s up to you if you want to believe him or call it bullshit

while he might not be giving love confessions every three seconds, he does give you compliments. and not just when you do something that warrants a compliment, but randomly. because to him, everything you do is majestic and needs to be acknowledged as so

"you're beautiful" when you're in casual clothes, sweats, pyjamas, (or bare)

"what would the world do without you?" when you hold open the door for an elderly couple

and you know he says it against your ear, voice low, his whispered words hot and heavy. maybe even a little raspy—

but just because he might not be the chatterbox on the block, doesn't mean he doesn't want someone talking to him

so don't give him the silent treatment, because when he does, he becomes insufferable to everyone

he's all curt to lucienne. snappy with matthew. demanding with poor marvin. sharp with cain and abel. rude with death. threatening with desire.

no one has nice dreams and nightmares become so much worse

not you, of course. you're still sleeping perfectly fine, but you realize something's wrong when you meet up with your friends and one of them hasn't slept in days while the other hasn't woken up in days

if it's his fault, it might take death for him to realize his mistakes and apologize to you. again, no long speech, just the simple words, "i'm sorry. i was wrong. please forgive me, my love." and considering this man's flaw is his ego, that is more than enough

and if you tell him to say it on his knees he will as he whispers it against your—

but if you're at fault, he won't back down until you apologize. however, he won't leave you alone. he'll always be there in the corner of your eye, waiting for you to apologize. and when you do, he'll purse his lips, nod, and say nothing. but you'll know he's already forgiven you when his eyes soften and he gives you that soft smile that's reserved for so few people

he might not talk to you, but he does want you to talk to him, so ramble away

let's not get started on what he says in private, but i'll tell you this. he isn't so silent anymore, and he will definitely appreciate whatever you tell him in whatever form—and might even strive to create and draw such sounds from you

a plea

a cry

a groan

a whimper

a scream—

in conclusion, this man will love you with every piece of him. (and if i could, i would do the same morpheus please just give me a chance)

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 1.06 𝗍𝗈 1.11. 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽. 𝗂 𝖺𝗆 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 this 𝗆𝖺𝗇. 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇 𝖺𝗇 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽?

𝗂'𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 14𝗁 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝖿 𝗂 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝖾, 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽

𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌: 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘶𝘴' 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯

𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘧!

[workwithmeman]

Pairing - Mountain x Phantom, 1.4k words, mature/explicit

Tags: body worship, phantummy, phantom being a little shit, mountain being desperate, mountain finishing in like 9 seconds oops, first time writing smut sorry, not beta read

Mountain was going to lose his fucking mind.

He knew Phantom had always been pretty - from the moment he had tumbled out of the summoning circle, he was all pouty lips, angled face, and doe eyes. A little gangly and underfed, sure, but nothing that a little love and home cooked meals couldn’t fix. And he was sweet - Lord Below was he sweet. An adorable nativity paired with a penchant to please that drove Mountain insane with a need to fawn, dote on, and love the little ghoul. 

But now that they had gotten back from tour, things had only gotten worse for Mountain. Without the constant exercise of tour and the increase in lovingly prepared rich comfort foods of winter, Phantom had started to grow a little soft around the edges. What once was all prominent bones and sharp edges became gently curvy and cherubic, with softer thighs and arms and an ass that Mountain would love to bury his face in. 

But the kicker, the absolute killing blow to Mountain’s sanity, was Phantom’s fucking tummy. As he had softened, a little bit of that fat had migrated to his chest and stomach, creating the most adorable little pooch that Mountain wanted to kiss, lick, suck - anything that Phantom would allow him to. 

Sweet Satan, he was screwed. 

—-

Mountain’s day started like normal, with him gently untangling himself from Phantom’s death grip on his body and shuffling to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. In the kitchen he found Dewdrop, holding a scalding cup of coffee and heating up the water for Mountain. He offered Mountain a sleepy smile.

“Hey big guy. Sleep alright?”

Mountain grunted in response, holding his cup out to Dew wordlessly.

“Understood,” Dew chuckled, pouring hot water in to Mountain’s teacup. “Phantom keep you up last night?”

“You could say that. Little bug is driving me crazy.” Mountain gently blew on his tea.

“Oh? What did he do now?” Dew leaned back against the counter, sipping his coffee. “More video games? Another documentary?”

“Satan, I wish. It’s just fucking him, Dew, I’m losing my mind. I just want to hold him and never let go.”

Dew laughed again. “Wow Mount, never thought I’d see the day someone made an honest woman out of you. It’s a good look.”

“Who’s making an honest woman out of Mountain?” Phantom’s sleepy voice called from down the hall. “I want to help.”

As Phantom appeared in the doorway, Mountain’s mouth went completely dry. In his bat boxer briefs and bat wing hoodie, Phantom looked good enough to eat. Mountain wanted to mark him, claim him, fuck him, break him, and then put him back together again. He wanted to grab him and steal him back to their room and spend hours eating the poor boy out until he cried. Fuck. Mountain needed to get his shit together. 

“Oh, um, hi bug. H-how did you sleep?” Mountain stammered. Phantom chuckled and walked over to him, tucking himself against Mountain’s chest and kicking up a gentle purr. 

“Like a rock. Your cuddles and your tea always make me go out like a light.” Phantom nuzzled against Mountain’s neck before pulling away to the cabinet where the tea was kept. 

As he stood on his tiptoes to reach his favorite box of tea, his hoodie rode up a little, revealing a sliver of dark purple belly, just sticking out a bit over his boxers. Mountain looked up from his sip of tea, only to spit it out all over Dew, coughing heavily.

“What the fuck, Mount, are you trying to infect me with your earth ghoul cooties? Fuck off with that shit,” Dew yelped. He looked down at himself, now covered with a healthy spray of earl grey. “Ah, shit. Now I have to change my fucking shirt.”

Dew walked out of the kitchen past a sheepish Mountain and a bewildered Phantom, yanking off his shirt as he went. 

“You alright there, Mounty? Everything OK?” Phantoms big purple eyes stared up at him, taking his breath away.

Mountain flushed up to his horns. “U-uh yeah, bug. Just choked a little bit. Sorry if I scared you.” Phantom rolled his eyes.

“Just glad you’re not dying, you big dummy. I love you too much to watch you choke to death on leaf water.”

Mountain smiled, tugging Phantom back into his chest. “I love you too, bug. I love you too.”

——

As their day progressed, Mountain slowly became more sure that Phantom was intentionally trying to drive him insane. The way he’d slowly bend over a laundry basket in front of Mountain and turn around and smile teasingly, the way he’d lift his sweater up over his head and make sure his t-shirt was stuck to it, the way he’d brush up against Mountain when they were working side by side. Mountain was ready to grab the little quint by the scruff of his neck and drag him back to their room to not be seen for at least a few days.

It all came to a head at movie night. The ghouls were all gathered in the common room watching some movie Dew and Aether liked, something with bombs and explosions and good special effects. Something Mountain could ignore for something sweeter. Namely, his lapful of quintessence ghoul.

Phantom was lounging against the earth ghoul’s torso, sitting between his legs. Every few minutes he’d shift ever so slightly, pressing back directly into Mountain’s dick. He stretched backwards, bringing his arms around Mountain’s shoulders and allowing his shirt to ride up as he nuzzled into Mountain’s neck.

Come on Mounty, hold me. I’m so cold. 

Mountain could hear Phantom’s voice echoing around his brain.

I know you’ve been staring. Come on, wrap those big arms around me. I can feel you, I can feel you’re hard. I know you want me, Mounty.

Mountain growled slightly into Phantom’s neck.

Don’t start something you can’t finish, little bug. I hope you know what you’re doing.

Phantom only chirped and ground harder back into the earth ghoul. He brought his mouth right up to Mountain’s ear.

“Please, Mounty. Take me back to our room, come on.”

Mountain growled, picking Phantom up and throwing him over his shoulder as Phantom squealed happily. As they walked out of the common room, a there were a few chuckles and groans from various members of the pack, but they mostly ignored the scene happening in front of them. 

Once they reached their shared room, Mountain tossed Phantom into the nest, yanking his shirt over his head. 

“You fucking tease. Whatever am I to do with you?” He crawled forwards, caging Phantom in on all sides. “Hope you don’t like this shirt too much, bug. You’re not getting it back.” 

In one swift motion, Mountain slashed the center of Phantom’s shirt open, revealing his delicate, plush purple skin. Mountain immediately latched onto Phantom’s neck, kissing, sucking and licking his way down the quint’s body until he reached his tummy. 

“Fucking harassing me all day, showing this cute little tummy off when you know I can’t handle it. Fucking drives me insane, bug, madness how gorgeous you are. Could stare for hours and never have enough.”

Phantom whined, squirming against the sheets. “Then why don’t yo-hah-do something more than just stare? Please Mounty, I need it. Touch me, please.”

“Oh princess, you’ve had more than enough touches for today. You always get what you want, hmm? It’s time for me to get something back.”

Mountain straddled Phantom’s calf, slowly starting to grind as he shoved his face back into his soft purple tummy.

“Fuck, bug, you’re perfect. Love how soft you are, how soft you’ve gotten. Love that you’re so strong now, so pretty. Such a pretty ghoul.” Mountain gasped, staring to hump Phantom’s leg more aggressively. He brought a hand down to Phantom’s straining cock, slowly beginning to jerk it. 

“You drive me crazy, baby, your cute little ass and your fucking thighs, love, wanna cover em with my marks. Wanna make sure everyone knows you’re mine. Wanna - ah! Wanna mate you, mark you, show everyone how much I fucking love you, need you, want you, ah-!”

Mountain finishes with a cry, spilling all over Phantom’s leg. Phantom follows shortly after, enamored with the scene of the earth ghoul falling apart. They lay together, panting, for a minute until Mountain crawls up Phantom’s body to kiss him. A comfortable silence falls over the pair.

“H-hey Mounty? Did you mean what you said? Do you want to be my mate?” Phantom asked nervously, tilting his chin up to look in to the earth ghouls eyes.

“With my whole heart, body, and soul, bug. If you want, whenever you want, wherever you want, I’m yours.”

[little-emerald-snake]

Getting Caught pt 4 Finale - Ominis Gaunt X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

I can’t believe you heathens have gobbles this little series up so frantically and kept enjoying every part I put out. I’m so grateful everyone likes it. That being said consider this a finale piece. I have so many branching ideas that I want to work on and therefore I feel I’ve written a good end for this little series. I hope you enjoy and thanks for hanging on for this little journey.

Warnings: a little fluff, losing virginity, awkward first time, mentions of blood, unprotected p-in-v, use of the word cervix (some of yall CANT get with that word so I added it here 😅)

1.4k words

Ominis paced the Undercroft. His head had been an absolute mess since their last meeting. All his life he’d never wanted to have sex with anyone, the fear of producing an heir or subjecting a woman to his family being far too much for his sanity.

But now all he could think about was what she felt like inside, how badly he wanted to take her sweet, soft innocence and make her cry out in pleasure while wrapped around him. How badly he wanted to hold her in his arms and drown in her incredible scent.

He’d thought about sex but never this much in his entire life. His thoughts as he laid in bed awake trying to sleep was what her possible reaction would be, would she also want it? What would become of them if they went farther, could he protect her from his family if they decided to court?

His head lifted when he heard the whirring clocks, he straightened, clasping his hands behind his back and listening to each echoing boot step as she came closer. “Ominis. I got your owl…”

He held out his hand, causing her to stop. “C-can I say what I have to say?” After a beat of silence and a small yes he continued. “I-I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you. Maybe it’s because we’ve suddenly become rather intimate…but…I find myself feeling a strong desire for you. One that can’t be quenched while alone in my bed at night.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the harsh hammering of his heart. “I…want to ask if you’d be open to courtship. I know my family is less than desirable to be associated with but I could keep it secret from them. We could just tell our close and trusted friends…or if you’re not okay with that maybe…it stays strictly physical and secret.”

He wished now more than ever to have sight, to see her face…her silence made his stomach tighten into harsh uncomfortable knots. But when she finally spoke he couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief. “Ominis…I…you want to become physical?”

His cheeks reddened, a stutter marring his speech. “W-well I…y-yes I suppose. I-I-I mean I’d love to court you first but I…can’t stop thinking of whatever we've been doing together. I-I want more, however you’ll give it to me.”

She stepped closer to him, with each step his heart crashed against his ribcage, threatened to burst from his chest. To his surprise the pounding of his heart was the furthest thing from his mind as her hand caressed his cheek and soft lips met his.

He stayed absolutely still till she pressed deeper into the kiss, then his hands were in her hair, pulling her close as their kiss deepened. It’s a slow and sensual kiss, no urgency behind it, just raw emotions.

When the kiss broke they were both red cheeked and breathless. He was still holding her close, afraid that if he let her go she may dissolve into thin air.

She caressed his cheek again and he could hear her smile. “Ominis…I’d love to be yours. W-we can figure out how to manage your family as we go but I want this, us.”

Ominis swept her up into his arms and she giggled happily. He kissed her again, still holding her in his arms, maneuvering them deeper into the Undercroft. He sank to his knees and laid her on the pile of blankets, breaking the kiss. “D-do you want to go further?”

A small yes had him diving forward, lips crashing against hers. This kiss was a hungry, burning, all consuming wildfire that had her clawing at his chest, pulling him down against her.

He hovered above her, one hand awkwardly coming up to paw at the front of her shirt. A wave of heat pooled in his groin, sparking to life the need he harbored for her. She hummed softly which he took as a good sign, groping a bit harder and seeking her nipple through the fabric.

She breathlessly took his hand, helping him slide it up under her shirt and their kiss was broken as he moaned just from the feeling of her chemise. He was rock hard against her thigh, grinding himself greedily against her.

He pinched her nipple a bit harder than intended, causing her to yelp. He looked up sheepishly, apologizing before abandoning her breast and sliding his hand down to her skirt, hiking it up around her waist.

He groaned as his fingers met her wet center, dipping in to collect her wetness before rolling over her clit. She sagged against the blankets, moaning needily as he picked up speed.

Her back arched and Ominis pushed himself up as best as he could, still rubbing her as he attempted to free his aching erection one handed. He paused to rub a flattened palm over himself, desperate to soothe the urgency.

Once he’d accomplished freeing himself he was pushing against her, awkwardly leaning over her while trying to line himself up between her legs.

She tensed and he stopped, going back to rolling her sensitive bud under the pads of his fingers. “No rush darling, it’s okay. Sorry for my eagerness.”

She clutched his shirt, lifting her hips to chase the feeling he was giving her. She was gasping and moaning, writhing beneath him and if he didn’t know better he’d think she was about to cum.

His suspicion was confirmed when he nudged against her entrance again and she wriggled her hips against him, he could feel her spasming even just pressed against her entrance. His eager fingers sped up on her clit as a sob caught in her throat.

He pushed past the thin barrier of her virginity, turning her blissful sounds into a sharp cry. His attention was divided between the blissful heat he was slowly shoving into and petting her hair gently while cooing encouragements. “S-such a good girl. Gods, you feel so tight.”

She whimpered, pulling him closer which was his only sign to keep pushing into her almost too tight heat. His control waned when he lifted his hand to feel her face and caught a wet tear sliding over her cheek.

He tried to pull out and she shook her head, tugging at his shirt. “D-don’t stop. M’fine…please.”

He didn’t stop, instead focusing on rubbing her sensitive nub while lurching his hips forward inside of her. His thrusts were jerky and untimed but he still felt her clench around him and heard her whimper in pleasure.

A sick satisfaction and sense of pride took over him when he smelled the tang of blood and felt the slickness of it coating him. He shoved all the way inside, feeling her clenched tightly while he pulled out and shoved back in.

A choked moan escaped her throat and she clung tighter to him. They rocked together, finding a rhythm where he pulled out and pushed back in. He was much longer than she’d imagined so he bottomed out every time, causing a gasp when his tip kissed her cervix.

His elbows were planted on either side of her head as he rut into her, hips moving faster and more fervently. He grunted and groaned till finally he stilled and spilled inside of her, filling her up.

Her cheeks were red as she laid beneath him, embarrassed and shy after feeling him absolutely unload inside of her. He panted, adjusting so he could hold her face. “M’fuck I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Don’t worry, won’t stop till you’re done too.”

She couldn’t believe he was still hard, his hand moved down to rub her clit again and his thrusts resumed, gentle and calculated. It wasn’t long before her moans and arching back indicated she was close. He felt her body language and soon she was clutching onto him, whimpering and begging. “G-gonna…m’gonna cum! Ominis!”

She did, clenching around him, she exploded in blissful orgasmic pleasure. He grit his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm as she whimpered and pleaded through her orgasm as it tore through her.

He held her, staying buried inside of her as he soothed her and caressed her. Petting her hair and praising her. “You’re so incredible. This is perfect. Gods I can’t believe your mine. All mine.”

She blushed, relaxing in his touch as he held her, basking in his warmth and soothing touch, taking in the fact that this all started with her catching him in the act down in this exact spot.

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

In My Sister’s Place (Part 2 of 2)

Here you are, lovelies! Part 2 of “In My Sister’s Place”. As always, familiar characters are NEVER mine!

Fandom: Labyrinth

Warnings: A bit of angst, but a happy ending. 

Pairings/Characters: Jareth the Goblin King x fem!reader, mentions of Sarah and Toby

Your eyes burned with tears that you hastily wiped away. First the obelisk, then the ballroom, the fireys fiends, and the Bog of Eternal Stench. You were quickly becoming overwhelmed with the Goblin King's labyrinth. And yet, every time you saw said king, it sent pleasant shivers down your spine and your heart began racing. You weren't sure if it was your hopeless romantic self or if the labyrinth was messing with your mind and heart, but you could feel yourself coming to care for the Goblin King.

         Your mind raced every time you thought back to the ballroom and how he'd held you close to him. How he'd gazed into your eyes. If you hadn't known better, you'd say he cared for you as well. But then you recalled how he had your baby brother and how scared Toby must feel. It set you back on the path and, before you knew it, you had made it into the castle.

         The Goblin King appeared again just as you set eyes on Toby. He practically begged you not to take him. He toyed with you using a never-ending staircase. As you tried to figure out what to do, you came to a realization. Maybe…perhaps, the Goblin King was simply lonely. Maybe he longed for someone to love, just like you. And just maybe, you could be that person. You thought and thought, your mind and heart pulling you in separate directions. Eventually, you made up your mind to save Toby and, by extension, your sister's sanity and guilt.

         The ticking of the clock echoed in your ears as you raced to where you were certain the Goblin King and Toby would be. Your legs were shaking and your heart was doing flip-flops in your chest when the Goblin King reappeared yet again. "I've won. I beat the labyrinth," you stated. The king looked pained as he watched you watching him. "Then you know what must be said, precious." You nodded, but before you could speak again, he held up a crystal. "You can stay, you know. Stay and never be worried about your siblings again. They will be happy. Sarah at home with her costumes and toys. The baby here with me…and you. Just remain here with me. Love me and I shall be your slave."

         You shook your head. "I don't want that. I want Toby safe at home. I want Sarah to finish growing up knowing that someone is looking out for her. I w-want someone to love that loves me as much as I do them. An equal partner in all things.  If I stayed, you would change to what you think I want you to be, just as you change the labyrinth. I'd want the chance to l-love you as you are." The king looked hopeful for a moment.

         "But I can't. No until I know my siblings are safe and that what I'm feeling for you isn't simply a trick of this place," you concluded. With tears in your eyes, you stepped forward and placed a soft kiss to the Goblin King's cheek as you mumbled a soft apology. You then began reciting the speech you'd learned by heart long ago, noticing the Goblin King's pained expression deepen with every word.

Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered,

I have fought my way here, to the castle beyond the Goblin City,

To take back the child you have stolen,

For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great…

You have no power over me.

         No sooner did you finished speaking did you find yourself back in your home. You felt thin arms wrap around your middle and it took you a moment to realize that it was Sarah. A soft cooing caught your attention behind you. Toby. Safe in his crib. You breathed a sigh of relief just as an overwhelming sadness came over you. You helped Sarah settle Toby down to sleep and then lead her to her room and told her everything.

         "You must have been so frightened," she commented. You attempted to smile. "I suppose. I truly don’t believe the Goblin King was all that bad. He merely did what you asked of him. I think, in his own strange way, he was trying to show that he was lonely." Sarah huffed. "He deserves to be lonely. I bet you made more friends in the labyrinth than the Goblin King has ever had."

         "Sarah," you sighed, shaking your head. You knew she couldn't understand at this point. She was still so much a child. "Nevermind. How about I introduce you to some of the friends I made?" Her face lit up in excitement. "You can do that?!" You laughed and gave a little shrug. "They did say they would always be here if I needed them. And the magic of that place obviously works here as well." You glanced in the mirror and thought about the friends you'd made and how much you'd like to see them again as you closed your eyes. When you opened them at the sound of Sarah's laughter, the room was full of the people you'd met.

         After spending a little time with them all, you excused yourself to return to your own bedroom. Your heart was heavy. When you had opened your eyes, you had half-hoped that the Goblin King would be there as well. Of course he wasn't. You closed your door behind you, leaning against it. Your eyes traveled to the window and you froze.

         Perched on a branch just outside your window was a white and brown owl. Without hesitation, you threw open the window, inviting the owl inside. Tears began stream down your face when the owl flew in and instantly transformed into the very being you'd been thinking of. You hadn't even realized you'd moved until you hugged him close.

         "You came back," you said, your voice muffled by his vest. He stood slightly stiffly, as if your contact was unexpected, but after a moment, you felt his arms go around you. "You say that as though you missed me," he stated. You looked up at him with tears still running down your cheeks. "Why are you crying, precious?" he asked. "I'm so sorry," you replied, "I c-couldn't leave Toby there. I didn't want to hurt you, but I couldn’t leave him."

         The Goblin King laughed softly. "Why are you laughing? And why aren't you angry with me? I-I bested you. I left you alone." He cocked his head to the side as if he were thinking. "Do you know what I am? What I truly am?" he asked in return. You thought a for a moment. "Fae? Is that right?" He nodded. "Yes. And Fae like myself, have one true, ever-lasting love in their lifetime. You, my precious thing, are mine. That is why I came back. That is why I cannot remain angry with you."

         "How do you know?" Your voice was barely above a whisper now. It was a lot to process, but you couldn't deny that you'd felt something powerful within you every time he was near you. "An unexplained connection. A pull and feeling we cannot place. The longing to be near each other without understanding the reason behind it. I know you felt it in the labyrinth and the ballroom. And even more so in the castle."

         You nodded. There was point in lying to him about it. "What happens now?" you asked. He cupped your cheek. "Now, you make a decision, Y/N. You may remain here or return with me. Be my queen." You bit your lip. "Will you love me?"

         "I already do. You are my Y/N. My precious love." You gazed into his eyes. They were light and bright with emotion as he waited for your answer. You weren't sure how you were going to explain things to your family, but you knew your choice within mere seconds. Your face drew closer to his. "You never did tell me your name," you said softly. "Jareth."

         "Jareth," you whispered back before finally pressing your lips to his, sealing your fate as his. His Y/N. His love. His queen.

(a/n: I hope you like it and that this part was worth the wait!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @supernatural4life2022​

This Story Tags: @urlocalfanficwriter​ @bwila-bussy​ @evilunicorns4minions​ @princess-ofthe-pages​ @boofy1998​ @ultimatreality​ 

[copias-fluffy-asscheeks]

Tied As One, Eternally

Papa III x Reader

1000 words | Hurt/Comfort.

''Do you regret ever going out with me?'' He muttered, eyes fixed on the bed he was sitting cross-legged on. You blink at the suddenness of it. You were both getting ready for bed, and just as you were about to settle the question had dropped. You were frozen for a moment, processing before you spoke. ''Papa.. no? Of course not.''

There's a pause. ''You're doing that thing again.'' His voice was still sturdy, but the small hint of a higher pitch told you it was threateningly close to wavering and cracking with suppressed tension.

With a frown on your face you tilted your head trying to get any insight via Terzo’s face, but he had his head angled elsewhere. “I don’t understand?''

''It's whenever you get serious. You.. You always stop calling me by my name. I'm always Papa with you. Never Terzo. But.. I don’t want to be Papa with you. Papa is not me. It...'' He sighed, brows furrowing. ''Do you go out with me.. spend time with me, sleep with me.. just for the thrill of being with Papa?'' 

You felt your heart shatter for him. It hurt. It hurt so much. That was the last thing this was. You loved this man with every fiber of your being. He was your world, your sanity. He was so used to being the object of attraction for people, they wanted him for his body, for being able to tell other church goers they’d slept with the almighty Terzo Emeritus; He let you into his heart, he trusted you with it in your hands, not to squish the fragile thing under your shoe as soon as you’d had enough. You knew he’d struggled with these feelings since before you were together, heartbreak after heartbreak, and it was hard for him to let people in, to let them see the man behind the papal paints. He didn't wait for your answer, now staring dead into your eyes for his next question. 

''Do you love me? Really love me?''

The air was thick, the room quiet for a moment. You looked away, taking a deep breath. The man you loved so much, he was struggling so greatly with the realization that for once, maybe even the first time, someone wanted him, not the quick fuck, not the five seconds of fame. You would have done anything he’d asked right then and there to rid him of the hurt he felt, of the hurt others had caused him. He was vulnerable with you, vulnerability was something he might as well have been afraid of. He was the head of the church, the strong figure that so many followed and aspired to be like, and here he was, sitting on his bed, looking shrunken in and tired, eyes teary and breathing unsteady, ready to break.

You exhale. ''I do. I love you. I love you so much. You're my first thought in the morning and the last one before I fall asleep. You help me through my days, like you’ve helped me through so many other things. If only I could find a way to put into words how much people love you, how much I love you, Terzo. It pains me so much that you feel you are undeserving of love. You’re amazing, you’re so sweet and helpful. I couldn’t name anyone else I’d want to spend all my time with, perhaps even the rest of my life.''

You heard a shuddered inhale, and when you blink your own tears away you saw that Terzo’s were now streaming freely down his paintless face. A sob racked through his chest like the first raindrops that unleashed the upcoming storm; you immediately crawled over the bed to his side and he collapsed into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and clinging onto you like his lifeline. The broken man weeped into your skin, his nails pressing almost painfully where he grabbed onto your back but you didn’t care, he needed to ground himself. You ran one hand through his hair, pressing kisses against his hairline and temple while the other drew random, soothing shapes over his back and shoulders.

After a while his sobs quieted into sniffles and uneven, shaky breaths. His near vice grip on you had loosened to small strokes over the places his hails had dug. You were still muttering soft words to him, humming songs you knew he liked, pressing the gentlest of kisses here and there. You gave him his time, holding him as long as he desired, only pulling back once he himself did. He stared at you, eyes red and lashes still wet, eyebrows still the smallest bit pinched. He looked like a kicked puppy, like he was ready to start whining any moment, his eyes, usually so bright when he laughed. Oh, how you loved his laugh, too. His smile, the sound of his joy, the look of it. Everything about him was perfect in your eyes, Papa or not, and you’d spend as much time as you could trying to convey that to him.

He was still staring at you, pure love in his eyes. He knew he loved you, of course. You’d been together for such a while now, but this was a love he’d not felt before, not for anyone. Unwavering, he looked mesmerized, partly because he felt it, too. He was mesmerized with you, in awe. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him and there was no doubt he wanted so with you too. 

“So you’ll love me forever?” He asked, looking almost childlike, eyes big and round, still brimmed with tears, but now mixed with happiness.

“forever and ever.” You smiled back, pressing a kiss to his nose before he tilted his head up to place a kiss on your lips, too. Soft, simpel. Full of unspoken meaning, all the words neither of you could ever find to speak.

‘’I love you, Cara mia. So much. Thank you.’’

A/N: guess who's alive idiots (not proof read, sorry for any mistakes!)

Taglist: @sweatandwoe @papasmicstand @lightbluuestars @random-mizu-fan @dearlymrme @thew0man

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 406: Secret Menu Hero Name

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all “NOT EVEN DEATH ITSELF CAN STOP ME!!!” and saved All Might so easily and spectacularly that it immediately became clear why Horikoshi had to keep him on ice for fourteen months straight. All Might was all “thanks for the assist Bakugou-shounen, now please allow me to show my gratitude by lending you my SWEETASS ROBOT ARM that nearly gave makeste a fucking heart attack when she saw it, HOLY SHIT.” Kacchan was all “I JUST LIKE TO SMILE, SMILING’S MY FAVORITE” and he smiled the BIGGEST EVER and indeed has literally not STOPPED smiling ever since, and my heart is warm. <3333

Today on BnHA: A jubilant menace stirs in the air. A chill runs down Kid For One’s spine. A sudden crash behind him. He whirls around, only to be met with the face of Chaos itself in all its raucous glory. The boy is relentless. His pursuit, unending. His blows, unyielding. And his mirth, as perplexing as it is petrifying. What the fuck. Why won’t he stop laughing. He’s laughing. Horikoshi is laughing. The readers are all laughing. You’re laughing. Kid For One is shitting his pants while this cackling sleep paralysis demon gleefully chips away at his frail sanity, one frenetic BOOM at a time. And you’re laughing. :|

doo de doo, don’t mind me, just gonna scroll past the first couple pages of this chapter so I don’t get spoiled for the outcomes of all the other mini-battles I haven’t finished catching up with yet :’)

though I already caught a glimpse of a bloodied-up Shouji before I realized what was happening, so unfortunately that particular cat is now out of the bag. can’t believe the suspense of whether or not Shouji would survive his fight is now completely ruined for me. can you even imagine how tense it would have been wondering whether or not Shouji would get killed off. ...and you know what, even as I type this, I’m realizing that this is really not the type of sarcasm that translates very well across the internet, lol. and even if it did, it could just as easily come across as “WOW, MAKESTE REALLY DOESN’T CARE ABOUT SHOUJI AT ALL, HUH” sarcasm, rather than the “it’s not that serious guys, it’s just that there’s no possible way Horikoshi could ever convince me that he was actually going to kill off one of the kids” sarcasm it was intended as! so yeah. you know what, I’m just going to shut up about all this now and move on. glad he’s okay though

so now back to the Main Character Battlefield, where Kacchan is currently having way too good of a time for someone who actually WAS killed off by Horikoshi fairly recently

All Might is all “he’s so fast!” and yeah he really is lol. ngl, I had a fair amount of Kacchan endgame theory stuff riding on his ability to meaningfully upgrade his speed, so all of this is very satisfying to hear! and to be fair, I do wonder how much of it is owed to the boost from Gearshift as opposed to Katsuki’s own newly acquired exploding bloodsweat. but I’d like to think that even without GS he’s still incredibly fucking fast at this point. like easily still a Top 3 BnHA Speedy Boi

well shit lol now Edgeshot is reminding everyone that even prior to his “death”, Kacchan was briefly able to surpass Tomura’s speed with his upgrade

well there you have it! so yeah, that basically confirms he’s currently even faster than All Might was at his peak. just a homicidal little comet casually zipping around all of these other slowpokes

lol

just for the record, I still have no clue how Kacchan’s bizarre new upgrade actually works, but I am fairly certain that sweat is NOT SUPPOSED TO EVER DO THAT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES

like seriously though Kacchan, doesn’t this hurt? like at all?

(ETA: hahahaha. ouch.)

well whatever!! if Tomura was able to bypass Erasure’s loopholes with all of his hand nonsense, then Kacchan’s sweat has my permission to zoom around inside his bloodstream and randomly explode inside him to somehow make him faster without actually harming him in any way, AND THAT’S FINE. the time for nitpicking ended roughly around the same time that a soft-spoken paracord man dove inside of him to forcefully restart his organs

LOL

“DON’T GET ME WRONG, I COULD EASILY KILL HIM ANY TIME I WANT! I JUST DON’T FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT RIGHT NOW, OKAY. THAT’S DEFINITELY WHAT IT IS, AND IT’S DEFINITELY NOT BECAUSE HE JUST EXPLODED ME SO HARD THAT I SAW THE FOURTH DIMENSION”

meanwhile back in Dekutown it looks like Tomura has maybe finally broken free of his impromptu Blackwhip toddler leash

whatever man. how are you still not redeemed yet since I last saw you in chapter 369. you had like an entire year’s worth of chapters. get it together already!!

lol what in the actual fuck is “instadeath”

is this just a Funny Ha Ha fanscan way of referring to Decay?? or were there some additional Tomura quirk developments that I missed out on which were somehow even wilder than the infinityhands

Deku keeps saying that he’s for serious REALLY going to run out of Gearshifts now, but I don’t fucking believe a word this kid says tbh

it will be the “final one” once the fight is finally over, and not a moment sooner. if I know anything about Deku, which I do. and Gearshift, which to be fair I really don’t

-- oh, fuck yeah

what the hell is up with that swirly hand shit though, Kid For One. you better knock that off right now

OH MY GOD THIS FUCKING GUY FOR REAL THOUGH!!

:/ well at least this time you’re being ignored because he’s actually scared shitless of you. shh. don’t tell anyone

holy shit this chapter keeps hitting me with these random bits of information Destiel meme-style and it’s the wildest fucking thing

so while I did obviously clue in to the fact that something must have gone down in the Endeavor+Hawks+Toko+Jirou VS AFO battle, on account of AFO very clearly not being in Jakku anymore, I have not yet caught up to that part of the series, so I don’t actually know anyone’s status! hopefully they’re all alive and relatively unmaimed! although they very clearly failed at their One Job, but oh well

that being said, “AS STRONG AS DARK SHADOW” looooooool omg. DS what did you do. my boy left an impression. I cannot wait to read that, oh goodness

KFO YOU LITTLE TWERP, DIDN’T ANYONE EVER TELL YOU YOU SHOULDN’T LOOK DOWN ON OTHER PEOPLE OR ELSE YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO SEE YOUR OWN WEAKNESSES

seems like someone ought to have told you that. could have spared you a lot of pain and agitation to come. more’s the pity

hee hee hee

hello there

so now my feral wolfchild is having a big internal monologue about how he’s finally mastered his new superquirk through the power of being an unrepentant masochist

fsdkfj. listen up Kid For One, he may be “nothing but a pebble”, but I promise you, if you could fucking hear this kid’s thought processes right now, you would already be halfway across the planet. living out the rest of your days in hiding while checking underneath your bed every night to make sure this little hobgoblin isn’t secretly waiting there to pounce at you

FSDLKFJSLDKJFL SDFLKWJEFLKWLF WLKJFLDKS

(ETA: you guys will never believe this but I found a sneak peak of the as-yet-unreleased soundtrack which will accompany this scene in season seven of the anime! SPOILER ALERT!!!)

ACTUAL GHOUL. I AM ACTUALLY SCREAMING. MY SON HAS BECOME GENUINE NIGHTMARE FUEL

THIS IS MY FAVORITE, FAVORITE, FAVORITE THING EVER YOU GUYS. HOLY SHIT. I CAN’T BREATHE OMFG

OUCH. HA! HAHA.

(ETA: once again, I know this sounds highly improbable, but I actually found some 100% authentic footage from the anime version of this scene! I’m telling ya. once this hits the airwaves minds are gonna be blown.)

HE IS THE “WHO” WHEN YOU CALL “WHO’S THERE”!!! HE IS THE WIND BLOWING THROUGH YOUR HAIR

you have to admit though, this really is the exact type of behavior you’d expect from someone who literally just got spat back out from the pits of hell

oh my god hold up what is this sudden tonal whiplash?

you guys I seriously had to sit back and take a deep breath and calm myself down for a moment, because Final Form Katsuki is just So Much. like actually just THE MOST. that I had to physically force myself to slow down and take these next few panels seriously and resist the urge to keep on making jokes about how CLEARLY EVEN HIS PARENTS ARE TERRIFIED. LOOK AT THEM. MASARU IS SOBBING AND MITSUKI’S HAND IS TREMBLING. IN THE WORLD’S MOST EPIC TWIST, AFO GOES DOWN ONLY TO BE REPLACED BY KACCHAN HIMSELF AS THE FINAL VILLAIN!!!

but yeah I had to stop and calm down from all of that because, oh. Masaru has his head in his hands. and Mitsuki’s trying to get him to turn around, but her hand really is shaking though. and it just really hit me that the two of them have spent the last... thirty minutes...?? swept up in the highs and lows of almost losing their child, and then getting him back, and then watching him be so strong and so good and SAVING ALL MIGHT and RESTORING EVERYONE’S HOPES AND DREAMS. and they must be so incredibly proud, but at the same time he’s still caught up in this fight, and the fight is still not over, and they know the tide could still turn again at any moment. and I can’t even imagine what that must be like. especially with them having already watched their son die once today

oh my god Horikoshi you cannot freaking do this to me!

goddammit. and now I’m all caught up in my Bakufam feels. DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI, THE MITSUKI TEARS WERE THE LOWEST OF BLOWS

and now Kid For One is once again whining about this “pebble” who’s pissing him off even worse than All Might. you love to see it!

OH MY GOD?!?!

oh my lord?! is it finally happening?? ARE WE FINALLY GETTING THAT SWEET, SWEET CONTEXT AT LONG LAST? WILL A MAN FINALLY HAVE A NAME??

-- Horikoshi I swear to god

YEAH NO SHIT. NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT, THEY DO KIND OF BEAR A RESEMBLANCE. YOU KNOW, IF YOU SQUINT

okay, color me intrigued. so that is indeed why AFO was crying when we previously saw this flashback! this is actually so interesting to me, because it’s literally the one and only time he’s ever shown real emotion outside of generic battle-related stuff (anger, shock, surprise, etc.)

so he says Kacchan pisses him off because he looks like Two. and every time he gets reminded of Two, he remembers how his brother died. and, I guess, made him feel sad for the first and probably last time ever???

holy shit, Kacchan was right

he really is AFO’s Final Boss. like even more than he realized

*~*~*OH MY GOD*~*~*

HOLY SHIT YES PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!

OFA DOS PARTIAL NAME REVEAL AT LONG LAST!! FULL NAME REVEAL AND ADDITIONAL FLASHBACKS TO FOLLOW NEXT WEEK...?? YES? MAYBE? PLEASE????

I swear to god, if Horikoshi deliberately kept Two’s quirk and name Top Secret for YEARS only for them BOTH to wind up NOT ACTUALLY BEING REMOTELY SPOILERY OR WORTH ANY KIND OF SUSPENSEFUL BUILD-UP IN ANY WAY WHATSOEVER, I will. just sit here and be puzzled, I guess. lol. “sometimes I just like to fuck with people like that.” OKAY?? WELL GOOD JOB, THEN??

“Kacchan of the Bakugous” was so out of left field and I am grinning so, so hard right now. BAKUGOU NO KACCHAN. that’s officially the second Heroes Rising reference in as many chapters! sure feels like A Certain Mangaka is building up to a Certain Reveal about SOMEBODY maybe possibly still having SOMETHING which will remain unnamed for now, but which rhymes with “done for mall”! and that’s all I’m gonna say about that

except that it’s not, because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also have fifteen other entirely different emotions about him proudly introducing himself to AFO not as Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, but as someone even more powerful. “BEHOLD, it is none other than I... Kacchan!!! ( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و lolo get fucked you big dumb fart”

heh. but seriously. just me sitting here basking in the fact that he uses the name Deku gave him. the fact that he decides not to go with his formidable, much-agonized-over hero name in this one moment, but instead chooses to use a far more terrifying moniker, even if AFO doesn’t realize the significance. because Dynamight is a hero, yes. one of the very greatest and strongest!

but Kacchan? Kacchan is the boy with a dream. Kacchan is the boisterous child laughing at the danger, unafraid of the challenge. smiling in the face of the tallest wall. Deku’s motherfucking Image of Victory. hahahahaha. ouch

anyway so yeah! what a chapter. this may have actually derailed me because now my brain just wants to write a bunch of character metas even though I STILL HAVE THIRTY MORE CHAPTERS TO READ. and not to mention I still have to actually post all of them as well lol. but whatever! we’ll make it work. long live Kacchan of the Bakugous, and may his Secret Menu Hero Name always strike fear in the hearts of his enemies

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Harry Potter’s Twin

Pairings: Harry Potter x twin!reader

Requested by: @insomniacwreck Could you do like Harry x twin! Reader? Like how he’d act, at the Dursley’s and Hogwarts maybe?

Warnings: idk, child neglect? the Dursley family treatment of Harry, the word murder is like once or twice other than that idk, not proofread

A/N sorry for not posting anything in a while, but I had to take a pause bc ✨depression✨, it just hit extra hard this time, but hey at least a bit of my creativity is back, but I’ve mostly been drawing, anyway here’s a headcanon bc why not

Did I know what I was writing half of the time, no the answer is no

I see a lot of fics where Harry and his twin sleeps together under the staircase, but if I’m honest I don’t think two people would fit to sleep there, even if they are small, so I’d say the Dursley’s would give the smallest room, that could be used as a actual room to the potter twins. Of course there’s be minimal decoration, two small beds that used to be Dudley’s, along with an really old wardrobe and nightstand, probably a really small desk if they could fit it, just so that they could actually do schoolwork (thank Petunia)

Both Harry and his twin would do most of the chores, except the few times Petunia does them, washing, making breakfast, dishing, cleaning, you get what I mean

Beating each others only friend growing up, until you started hogwarts that is

I’d think as you are both each other only way of affection you’d probably have a habit of falling asleep in each others beds cuddled up together

As cliché as it might be I do love the fics where the twin is like a replica of James (in looks and personality) and as Harry has his mother’s eyes his twin has his fathers eyes, but I wanted to say was every family needs a rebel, and if the twin acts like James they sure as hell would be classified as a rebel in the Dursley household

Getting in a lot of trouble, like a lot (some by accident some not by accident)

“Stealing” things from Dudley making him question his sanity as he knew he put it down just moments before (he usually blames you though)

Standing up for eachother whenever you get scolded or yelled at

“Stealing” food at night when you weren’t allowed any

Thinking you were both crazy the first time you both used magic by accident

Sharing clothes is a pain but you make it work

Being each others happiness, especially on your birthday as you smile at each other and say “happy birthday Harry” “Happy birthday Y/N” at the same time

Having twin powers, you know finishing each other sentences, knowing when something bad happens to the other, knowing what you’re both thinking (I swear twin powers are somewhat real, I’m a triplet and we have the same power)

Grabbing a letter from the floor instead of the one’s flying (I had to okay, Harry was really dumb that time)

Laughing hysterically when Harry accidentally makes aunt marge into a ballon

Time for the fun part starting Hogwarts

You’d probably be attached to the hip at the beginning, while you’re wandering Diagon Alley with all the knew strange people, you both got your own owls btw, even when on the train you’d be right by each other trying to calm down your nervousness, and anxiety over starting a new school with magic in which you know nothing about, let’s not forget you are both famous for some unknown reason to the both of you

Neither of you cared what house you got in, hoping it was the same house but if it wasn’t you’d be fine with that to, maybe a bit hard to sleep the first night, bc you usually sleep next to each other or at least the same room, personally I would love for Harry’s twin to be a Hufflepuff I don’t know why I just love the idea

A few weeks into the first school year you’d separate a bit, getting friends of your own, but you’d probably be friends with Hermione and Ron too, you could always go to Hermione if you needed help with anything, as she could always go to you with anything, Ron if I’m honest don’t go to him with everything we all know how he is with Harry and the triwizard tournament. But hey anything food related, Ron is your guy.

Yes I do love it when Fred and George are your best friends, and if I’m honest I can see the two older twins taking you under their wing and teaching you all they know, you knew about the map two years before Harry did.

Friends: Fred and George like stated before, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Luna later on when you meet her we all gotta have that one friend (me I’m that friend), obviously Harry as he’s your twin, probably Cedric somehow, it would be fun if you were more friendly to Draco too, oh I gotta as Oliver Wood love that guy, If I’m honest I don’t remember the names of any Ravenclaw s but you’re probably friends with some of them too , as well as Slytherins, we do not follow stereotypes here

Teasing Ginny about her crush on Harry

Detentions

Snape “hating” you

Everyone looking at you like you lit the stars in the sky because you survived the killing curse

It would be fun if you were somewhat oblivious to Harry’s shenanigans being to occupied with your pranks with the Weasley twins. But Harry does fill you in on things so you aren’t completely in the dark, you just couldn’t care less if someone was out to murder you again

Loving Fluffy and Buckbeak because they’re adorable 🥰

Defeating Quirrell/Voldemort together in your first year

You’d probably be able to speak with snakes too though, and in your second year you did it to scare people of who thought you was the one who opened the chamber of secrets

Getting paralyzed with Hermione by the basilisk

Fast forward to Sirius escaping, I’m going with Sirius being Harry’s godfather, and Remus being your godfather, because I cannot leave Remus out my boy doesn’t deserve that

Remus tells you a lot of stories about your parents

Remus doesn’t even want to know how many detentions you’ve gotten by know nor how many times you’ve been in the hospital wing

Getting Fred and George to try and find Sirius Black with you because you want answers and Draco might of let a few things slip when the two of you talked

You did not to your knowledge succeed in finding Sirius but you did find a dog who you brought food a lot of times

Remus and Sirius being proud of both you and Harry for being on the Quidditch team, two of the best players, you being chaser

Knowing Remus is a werewolf bc he told you, but you never told Harry because you wanted to have a secret with your godfather that Harry didn’t know, and if you’re ere honest you could never know how people would react to someone just casually saying “btw our teacher is a werewolf”

A lot of time is spent talking to Remus about your problems and everything else in your life the other time is spent with the Weasley twins

Not getting selected for the triwizard tournament but still somehow ending up at the graveyard with Harry and Cedric

Pranking umbridge a lot, did not end well for your hands, as they are littered with scars from the pen she made you use

I don’t want to cry today so we will just say that you saved Sirius, Remus, Tonks and Fred’s life so no tears today

Yeah that’s about it I think, a lot of chaos ensures after Dumbledore’s death, and eventually Voldemort is finally defeated and you live the rest of your life happily, probably becoming an Auror,

Bonus: would be fun if you published a book, “ the twins who lived” written by Y/N Potter, bestselling book and used in history of magic in the future when referencing to the events of the war with Voldemort

[artdivadej]

Survivor's Remorse (II)

Part Two

18+ | NSFW | PTSD

Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

How could I?

Peeta didn’t look scared but that didn’t make this ok. He’s a guy, of course his body would react on instinct. I had no right. I immediately bolt from the bed before he can grab me with those powerful hands of his. Always trying to hold me together and I’d violated him.

“I’m so sorry”, I gasped fighting my tears of disgust.

“Sweetness, you did nothing wrong”, he called in that honey sweet baritone.

I must have looked as feral as I did when I was coming off of the trackerjacker venom during my post-torture rescue. He only ever used that tone with me when I was about to lose my shit.

“I just assaulted you Peeta!”

“No. You were sleeping you-”

“Exactly! Just like what Marvel did to me! You were unconscious!”

“It’s not the same”, he tried softly. “You know how I feel about you. Marvel had no right to touch you!”

I forgot how wild the mention of Marvel made Peeta. I’d never watched our games, no intentions on seeing myself suffer in HD when it never left my nightmares. Marvel was the only tribute that Peeta had killed but I’d been unconscious when it happened. I’d woken up 3 days later latched onto Peeta like a tick, refusing to let go. No panties or shirt under my jacket and jeans but very sore. Marvel was nowhere in sight but, there was blood on the left wall of the cave. Peeta told me he’d gotten to me in time but with the soreness I had? It was clearly to keep what little sanity I’d had left intact. I allowed them to think I’d believed the lie.

It took what little good I had left in me. Forever taking what little hope I had to be with Peeta away.

“I was unconscious. So were you. Unconscious people can’t say no”, I snarled taking another step backwards.

“It’s not the same. I invited you into my bed. I lov-”

“Stop it!” I screeched bolting from the room.

I can hear Peeta scrambling to get together to come behind me but I’ve always been faster. And I cared little for pants anyway. I darted out the window and took off to the forest. It’d grown much lusher since the districts can come and go between each other. It was warm out even with night still reigning. I needed to hurt something so I didn’t hurt myself. Going to my hollowed-out trunk I bypassed the bow today, needing more personal methods of killing tonight.

I stayed out until the sky began to turn Peeta’s favorite colors. Taking that as my sign to head back with my haul. I left half of my kill in the ice cooler in the now updated shed out here that the hunters have asked my permission to utilize. They can carry the heavy buck back to town themselves. I’d skinned it. They can do the rest.

After taking a bath in the pond I finally trekked back to the Victors Village, peeking around the homes to make sure Peeta wasn’t in sight. When the coast was clear I slid into the side window of Haymitch’s living room and started a fire, depositing my kill in the sink. He was fast asleep in one of the armchairs in front of the fire with a cup beside him. I fumbled through the middle cabinet in the back compartment for my secret stash. Found em! I grabbed three of the bottles of the clear liquid and plopped down on the loveseat in front of the fire.

“Want some pants there sweetheart?”, he chuckles with a stretch that makes his bones pop loudly.

“No. But I’ll take a blanket”

He removed the black fuzzy blanket from the chair that Peeta usually sits in and draped it over my legs since I was sitting Indian-style on the couch staring into the flames. The smell of his cinnamon wafted into my nostrils hitting me with another wave of guilt.

“You know he was here looking for you last night, right?”

“I’m sure”, I grimace swallowing 1/3 of the first bottle in one swig.

I understood why Haymitch used to drown himself daily to numb the memories. I quite liked the burn of alcohol myself and the dreamy state that I felt when it hit.

“A bit early for you, isn’t it?”

“You’re one to talk”, I snort

“Exactly. I said early for you”

He took the second bottle from my lap and poured half into his teacup. I shoot him a halfhearted smirk. Haymitch was my mentor but he became more of a father to me than I’d ever known. I liked that he was flawed. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone in this. He didn’t judge me. Haymitch just was blunt. Not everyone liked that. I did. We’d grown close in our last 5 years together knowing he wasn’t one to lie to me....normally. We sat in comfortable silence for a little while before it came tumbling out.

“I molested Peeta”, I breath shakily as I take another gulp.

Haymitch choked on his hot toddy and slammed the cup down. He was on the couch beside me forcing me to look at him faster than I could register with his powerful grip. Sometimes I forget just how agile he can be.

“That is not what you did! Don’t fucking say that again!”

“It’s what it feels like! I was never supposed to taint him!”

“Grow up! You’re both adults now. You know good and God damn well if Peeta invited you to sleep in that bed with him, he’s more than willing to take whatever you give him. He wouldn’t have allowed you to sleep beside him anymore once you turned 18 if you both hadn’t known what could come from your little arrangement!”

“Not like that Pops”, I cried wiping my eyes in frustration. “I almost did to him what Marvel did to me. It’s why I can’t with Peeta. He deserves so much better”

“Is that what you really think happened?”

I’d never seen Haymitch’s crystal blue eyes so downhearted. To finally understand that I never once believed any of them when they told me that lie to keep me sane.

That I know they’d all lied to me.

“If you refuse to watch the game, I think you owe it to Peeta to ask him about what happened that night”

“I did”

He knew this entire topic left me feeling as raw as if the gamemakers rubbed me through a grater.

“No, you didn’t. In the games all you did was ask what happened to Marvel. You never talked about it when he told you he got to you in time. You just assumed he meant saving your life”

“Drop it”

“No. Talk to him about it. It didn’t happen”

“Your pussy didn’t hurt for a week!”, I shout into his stupefied face pushing him away from me and stomping to the kitchen to grab another bottle now that mine were empty.

Haymitch is on me in seconds.

“Look, we can drink ourselves blue, but go sit. Get warm. I’ve got this. We’re going to talk about this. Now”

I resign myself to listen, my body already wracked with physical exhaustion. I didn’t want to deal with the emotional draining this topic required. I curl back up under the soft covers, staring into the flames, wishing they’d swallow me whole. The one person I swore to protect, I’d violated. Yet he’d come here looking for me worried about my mental health. Haymitch has made me a hot toddy and it warms my whole body with each sip.

“You were right you know”

“I always am” he huffed indignantly

“I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him”

“I was being bitter when I said that”

“Still true”

“Never was. You underestimate him as a man and that’s your problem. I know you’re healing; you’re growing. We all are. But you need to accept that he is a man now. Peeta is fully aware of the consequences to all of the choices you two make. Respect him by accepting that”

“I know full well what an amazing person Peeta is”

“Clearly. I said as a man. If you’re dry humping him in your dreams, might as well accept that you love him too. No point in fighting it sweetheart. Truth be told, I thought this happened years ago”

“Haymitch!”

Either the liquor was kicking in or he just was feeling unusually open today. We never really discussed my private life with Peeta sleeping at my place or me at his. I did feel quite loose but I didn’t feel safe. I eyed the chair warily but decided I would need his scent to sleep comfortably. I dragged the comforter up with me and curled into the plush armchair Peeta always sat in, burying my nose in the arm cushion. It smelled just like him. Bread, butter, whiskey and honeysuckle.

“You love him and it’s time to accept it. Even if you were just friends, you don’t think you owe him a conversation about what happened? No matter how in denial you are about what happened in your games”

“I’m scared”, I admit with a tremble as my body sags further into the chair.

I’d only slept for 2 hours at Peeta’s and I was exhausted, the liquor snatching the rest of my energy that his comforting scent hadn’t. I’d been comfortable pretending to believe the lie without ever having to discuss it.

“You’ll get over it” Haymitch snorts tucking the blanket in tighter around me

I feel a kiss to my forehead before I’m out.

***

Haymitch slipped some morphling in your drink. It was easy to get you to listen when he slipped you some after coming down from a manic episode as your sanity lapsed sometimes. It still happened to him sometimes too. It bothered him that you’d felt this way for 5 years but, hopefully you and Peeta would work that out.

Speaking of which.

Haymitch made his way 5 houses down, not bothering to knock as he strolled into Peeta’s kitchen. He’d been up all night worried about you. It was clear because there was fresh baked bread, rolls and bagels all over the counters. Haymitch pocketed 2 rolls clearly made from District 4’s tropical ingredients. Finnick must have sent some over. He grabbed a loaf of raisin bread that had to have come out recently because it was steaming. Peeta looked up from the sink hearing Haymitch crunch on a bear-claw behind him noisily. He quickly dropped the pan he’d been holding and darted over, his wide brown eyes full of worry.

“Is she ok?”

“You are free to come and pick up your delightful cinnamon roll at your leisure. She’s passed out in your chair. Again”

“Did...did you slip her morphling?”

“Didn’t have much choice after the nonsense she was talking”

“What do you mean?”

Peeta removed his apron and slipped on a hoodie, following Haymitch down the front stairs. Haymitch stopped and let out a sigh that seemed like it weighed his entire spirit down.

“She thinks she molested you. And that Marvel raped her”

Now it was Peeta’s turn to recoil.

“What?”

“Exactly”

It would take at least 6 hours for the morphling to wear off but Peeta was nothing if he wasn’t patient. He waited 11 years just to be noticed by you. He could wait a few more hours to clear this up and truly make you his. He made his way into Haymitch’s living room to see you passed out on his lounge. Nuzzling your nose deep into the cushions to feel as if you were surrounded by his natural smell. This brought Peeta some comfort. You still only wore one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxershorts, but it was clear you’d been out hunting. There were still some leaves in your long, dark curls. There were still some leaves in your long, dark curls. He plucked them out and ran his fingers through them tenderly.

“Sorry about this”

“Don’t be. Just...work this out. Today”

“I will”

Peeta scooped you into his arms with ease, blanket and all, carrying you to his home and lying you down back in the bed. He had at least an hour before you began to fight at the morphling, realizing you were alone.

He had to find that tape.

Then he'd have to wake up an old ally. Hopefully he'd have time for him right now.

It took about 20 minutes of fumbling through the large box from when Effie had sent the previous victor tapes over for the Quarter Quell but he finally found it. It took another 20 minutes to split the particularly unpleasant angles out, Peeta grit his teeth angrily trying to keep his head together as his rage threatened to consume him. Beetee helped him through it, talking deeply and gently through their breathing and processing techniques. Once he had the tape together he took it into the bedroom and lay it on the nightstand. Watching you sleep for a little bit, wanting to climb in beside you so bad.

A few hours of indulgence couldn't hurt.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Slowly but surely replying to older asks. I say it every time but I mean it: thank you for being patient.

One ask about Shroudcest and one ask about Rookvil today!

Anonymous asked:

Imagine imagine imagine.

Cause this is funny to me.

Someone's flirting with Idia, yeah? (or just talking to him, not even flirting) (well, I guess it'd be a one sided conversation....)

And Ortho was off doing whatever and he comes back and he notices-

And he gets all angry and whatnot-

And Ortho's got instant connections to the internet-

And he figures out who the person is and basically destroys their social life.

Like, in the middle of this conversation, this person checks their phone and finds out all their friends have ditched them and their entire online life is up in flames.

Simply because Ortho got a little jealous.

Anon, this is so unbelievably easy to imagine lol Despite Ortho really wanting his precious Idia to have more friends and connections, he is much more jealous than he thought! And much more of a little shit than people think… We really love this kind of scenario for them, to be honest.

Ortho is way too powerful for how emotionally unstable he is! Rogue little yandere robot :( His niisan is his and his only! That poor guy probably just wanted to talk about homework or something trivial like that…

Anonymous asked:

the rook hate be crazy, sorry for the nonsense you’ve been dealing with for doing nothing wrong. anyway rookvil appreciation hours. rook is so observant and reverent that he’s always looking out for his queen and vil is just a bit tsun lol but i love how vulnerable vil is with rook. like the lines implying vil has cried in front of rook before, that they sleep in the same bed, rook knows vil’s family situation, vil commenting on rook’s thighs in beanfest implicitly meaning he spends a lot of time looking at them lol, rook has access to vil’s room and waits for vil… as much as i love savanaclaw rook and mourn his loss everyday, he willingly changed himself to be worthy of being by vil’s side via his own free will; vil did not MAKE him do anything they just talked a lot. my mans is more whipped than heavy cream. idk about you but rook mentions he struggled to feel or express emotions before he knew about theater (specifically neige but let’s ignore that for vil’s sanity lol) so it feels significant that rook obviously feels and emotes so strongly over vil (also something something ortho struggles to feel or express himself before movies and acting so what i’m getting at here is they should spitroast vil at least once lmao.) if it was revealed they’re canonically dating the only part i’d be surprised about is that it got through disney’s censors.

It’s okay, Anon. The whole thing kind of made us appreciate Rook and RookVil more, to be honest lol I sketched them for a couple of days nonstop after that whole thing happened.

It also made you write this ask! It took me some time to reply, but every time I was rereading it I smiled because god this is such a good ship. Everything that you’ve listed is just so… wonderful. All those interactions, all this connection, all those moments that imply their closeness that is on a much deeper level than we get to see. Sometimes when these two talk, it feels like we’re eavesdropping lol they just have this vibe to them, as if every dialogue has some additional context that we don’t quite get.

Vil’s comment about Rook’s thighs and him bulking up though lol poor Epel didn’t know what to make of it and probably didn’t want to think about it…

You’ve made such a good point about Vil being more vulnerable with Rook, and I think this vulnerability is very important. Vil feels like someone who probably doesn’t usually allow people to get very close to him, but once he lowers his guard for someone, that person becomes very special to him. Or I guess it’s the other way around… anyways, he trusts Rook enough to always have him by his side, and he probably vents his frustrations with the industry and anything else that troubles him to Rook the most.

And this trust isn’t one-sided: I feel like Rook trusts Vil a lot too. We know that he has a lot of secrets, and even Vil probably doesn’t know a whole lot about his upbringing and stuff, but he certainly knows more than other people + listens carefully enough to understand implications without prying into it too much. They give each other enough space in general, I guess? I know it sounds funny considering Rook’s whole stalking thing but lol their connection is special. They learn from each other and from what they have together.

It makes sense that one person that Vil trusts so much and loves so much is a weird theater nerd who doesn’t quite understand tact, but is very honest, supportive and genuinely passionate and loving. It makes sense that one person that Rook trusts so much and loves so much is an obsessive perfectionist that takes care of him, enables him and inspires him every day. Both of them are kind of insufferable, but they are the perfect type of “insufferable” to each other lol And yeah, let’s not forget about the power of knowing all the obscure theater/film references the other one makes!

I also absolutely agree that it wouldn’t be surprising at all if it was confirmed that they are dating lol The only surprising thing really would be the fact that Disney allowed it.