#as soon as i have children i get so burnt out they suck so much i hate children in ts4

[hallawayheart-moved]

april took some time to work on her painting and andrew finally got to go on that family bike ride. also helena wins at like every single board game she plays? i was not expecting some random helena trivia to be that she absolutely destroys everyone at board games. 

[puzzled-pegasus]

Here's some silly little metaphors that I think the dragon tribes would use

SkyWings

“Don’t count your clutch before they hatch.” (Don't plan too much too soon)

“Gold is better than silver, but silver is better than nothing.” (If you can't do it perfectly, still try your best. Most dragons forget the second part.)

“‘Sorry’ can't suck the fire back in.” (The damage is done and now you're dead to me.)

“You been eating too much burnt meat or something?” (Are you nuts?)

“Stop all this smoke and use your fire.” (Stop rambling and get to the point already; or stop complaining and do something)

“Doesn't know his tail from his wings.” (Stupid or clumsy)

“You fly like a depressed pigeon.” (Slow flier)

“There's no fire in a rainstorm.” (Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get to work.)

“Nighttime is for the NightWings.” (What are you doing up? Go to sleep.)

SandWings

“She’s all rattle, and no strike.” (Like all bark no bite)

“A diamond in a pile of quartz.” (Like a needle in a haystack)

“You’re watering the cactus and ignoring the sapling.” (You’re focusing on the wrong thing; barking up the wrong tree)

“Everyone thinks the camel looks silly until the dry season comes.” (Don't listen to them, they don't know how unique and strong you are)

MudWings

“Crocodile tears.” (Fake crying in order to gain sympathy)

“You can only catch a trout if your mouth is open.” (Be open to new experiences)

“If the tree gives away too much, it ends up as a stump.” (Don't let people take advantage of your generosity)

SeaWings

“Happy as a clam in high water.” (Very happy)

“The flying fish feels like a fool when it sees an osprey.” (Don't compare yourself to others, run your own race.)

“Plenty of fish in the sea.” (Plenty more opportunities to come.)

“You’ve got ink in your eyes.” (You're blind to something important)

“Lobsters only die when they don't leave their shell.” (Keep yourself busy with new experiences and you'll life a long life)

NightWings

“Sleep is for the dead.” (Why waste your time sleeping when you could be productive)

“SeaWings know their fish and SandWings know their cactuses, but we NightWings know everything else.”(NightWing supremacy propaganda)

“Being nice to a deer never got one in my mouth.” (Other dragons don't matter, only your goals.)

“A prophecy always comes true.” (I told you so but more cryptic)

"You're counting the stars." (You're doing something tedious towards an unachievable goal)

RainWings

“Gray’s her favorite color.” (She's a huge bummer)

“A lemon is yellow on the outside, doesn't mean they're not sour.” (Referring to someone who is two faced or fake)

“I love honey, but I’d rather not get stung by the bees.” (I could do this, but it requires effort so I don't wanna)

“Nobody likes a rotten banana.” (Nobody likes a bummer/downer)

“Don't tie your tail in a knot” (don't get all upset)

“I have all my berries in a basket” (I have everything sorted out)

“You couldn't sneak up on a pineapple” (insult to one's camouflage skills, popular among children)

IceWings

“The seal who asks why the orca is chasing him is the first to get eaten.” (A favorite of parents telling their kids to shut up)

“Not the sharpest icicle on the roof” (kinda stupid or slow)

“Clear as polished ice” (i understand or see it very well)

“You're looking a little pink in the face” (you look sickly. IceWings can turn pink from eating too much krill; a symptom of malnutrition. This line can be applied to any illness.)

“Blue blood kills, red blood spills.” (Patriotic propaganda implying that IceWings win every fight

“The SkyWings toss their blue eyed hatchlings because they're worried they'll be as strong as an IceWing.” (More propaganda)

HiveWings

“Pretty is for the SilkWings.” (Vanity is stupid and impractical)

“If it buzzes like a bug and bites like a bug, it's a bug.” (Don't ignore the obvious)

“Clearsight works in mysterious ways.” (I don't know the answer to your question, now go away)

SilkWings

“It's not always good to know how the honey gets made.” (Don't stick your snout where it doesn't belong)

“She's got a couple of threads loose.” (Calling someone a little crazy, threads refers to weaving)

“The bee minds its flowers and the spider minds her silk, it's when they mix that bad things happen.” (Mind ya business)

LeafWings

“Flytraps only trap because the soil doesn't feed them.” (Dragons don't get angry out of nowhere)

“Looking like a leaf only hides you in the forest.” (Time and place)

“If a branch doesn't bend, it breaks.” (Be flexible)

“Even the corpse flower attracts the flies.” (Even someone who seems ugly to one dragon they can seem irresistible to another)

[bordysbae]

“don’t feel special that i’m here, my mom made me come.” “mhm sure.” with jack. maybe a college graduation??

“congratulations, i guess”

jack hughes x reader

ok so i made this at like 2 am? so i deeply apologize if this makes no sense 😭

🦋 BORDYSBAE’S 500 CELLY!

— ୨୧ —

as you walk across the stage, you grab your diploma and look out at the crowd. your parents are cheering, with the hughes family cheering just as loudly next to them. the hughes have always been a second family to you. your mom was best friends with ellen throughout middle and highschool, and she even helped your parents get together, since your father and jim were friends from college.

despite being the only girl in the mix, you also fall into the place of second to youngest. you’re right in between jack and luke, which sucks. you’ve always been closest with jack though, you guys used to be best friends. until you left for college and he left for jersey. as soon as he left for new jersey, he’d stopped putting in as much effort towards the friendship. him ghosting you hurt so badly because you’ve always had a slight thing for him. honestly, everyone always thought you two were bound to get married, but that’s until the friendship burnt out.

seeing jack clapping for you in the crowd makes you smile even harder. eventually the ceremony comes to an end, and as you say goodbye to your friends, you spot the two families waiting for you. you hurrying over as fast as you can and embrace luke in a big hug first.

“congrats y/n/n! i cant believe you graduated already!” luke says, swaying you both side to side. “oh thank you lukey! i’ve missed you!” you exclaim as you release the hug. you then make your way over to quinn, who greets you with another tight hug. “congrats kid, we’re all proud of you,” quinn smiles down at you. “thank you quinny. im glad you could make it,” you smile.

you then hug your parents, jim, ellen, and lastly jack. his arms loosely wrap around your body, and his hug is nowhere near the same as anyone else’s. it’s both awkward and weak, it honestly pains your heart, but you’re glad he showed up anyways.

“congratulations, i guess,” he slightly teases, trying to ease the awkwardness. it’s been nearly a year since you last saw jack, and even then there was still awkward tension between you both.

“thanks for coming, jack. i’m glad you came all the way up here from new jersey,” you smile, fidgeting with the ends of your gown sleeves.

“don’t feel special that i’m here, my mom made me come,” he rolls his eyes swimming jokingly.

“mhm sure jacky,” you chuckle, but immediately realize the slip up you’d just had. that nickname lingered from seventh grade till your senior year of highschool, and it’s been years since you’ve said it. it’s easy to tell that you’re both a little shocked at hearing the nickname again, but his tense muscles loosen a little, “no but seriously, i’m proud of you y/n. and i’m sorry for everything.”

“it’s alright jack, seriously. we’ve both been so busy, and we live no where near each other. we were bond to fall out a little bit, but never again, okay?”

“never ever,” he smiles, sticking out his pinky for your guys’ pinky promise that you used to do as children. your pinkies interlock, and you kiss your thumbs as part of the tradition. jack pulls you into a tighter hug this time, and it feels more natural. as your arms are wrapped around his built body, he whispers something in your ear you’ve never expected to hear. “i love you, y/n. as more than a best friend. and i’m so so proud of you.”

[shannyh25]

Well, we’ve been thinking about it for some time—all winter in fact,” returned Marilla. “Mrs. Alexander Spencer was up here one day before Christmas and she said she was going to get a little girl from the asylum over in Hopeton in the spring. Her cousin lives there and Mrs. Spencer has visited here and knows all about it. So Matthew and I have talked it over off and on ever since. We thought we’d get a boy. Matthew is getting up in years, you know—he’s sixty—and he isn’t so spry as he once was. His heart troubles him a good deal. And you know how desperate hard it’s got to be to get hired help. There’s never anybody to be had but those stupid, half-grown little French boys; and as soon as you do get one broke into your ways and taught something he’s up and off to the lobster canneries or the States. At first Matthew suggested getting a Home boy. But I said ‘no’ flat to that. ‘They may be all right—I’m not saying they’re not—but no London street Arabs for me,’ I said. ‘Give me a native born at least. There’ll be a risk, no matter who we get. But I’ll feel easier in my mind and sleep sounder at nights if we get a born Canadian.’ So in the end we decided to ask Mrs. Spencer to pick us out one when she went over to get her little girl. We heard last week she was going, so we sent her word by Richard Spencer’s folks at Carmody to bring us a smart, likely boy of about ten or eleven. We decided that would be the best age—old enough to be of some use in doing chores right off and young enough to be trained up proper. We mean to give him a good home and schooling. We had a telegram from Mrs. Alexander Spencer today—the mail-man brought it from the station—saying they were coming on the five-thirty train tonight. So Matthew went to Bright River to meet him. Mrs. Spencer will drop him off there. Of course she goes on to White Sands station herself..Mrs. Rachel prided herself on always speaking her mind; she proceeded to speak it now, having adjusted her mental attitude to this amazing piece of news.“Well, Marilla, I’ll just tell you plain that I think you’re doing a mighty foolish thing—a risky thing, that’s what. You don’t know what you’re getting. You’re bringing a strange child into your house and home and you don’t know a single thing about him nor what his disposition is like nor what sort of parents he had nor how he’s likely to turn out. Why, it was only last week I read in the paper how a man and his wife up west of the Island took a boy out of an orphan asylum and he set fire to the house at night—set it ON PURPOSE, Marilla—and nearly burnt them to a crisp in their beds. And I know another case where an adopted boy used to suck the eggs—they couldn’t break him of it. If you had asked my advice in the matter—which you didn’t do, Marilla—I’d have said for mercy’s sake not to think of such a thing, that’s what.”

This Job’s comforting seemed neither to offend nor to alarm Marilla. She knitted steadily on.

“I don’t deny there’s something in what you say, Rachel. I’ve had some qualms myself. But Matthew was terrible set on it. I could see that, so I gave in. It’s so seldom Matthew sets his mind on anything that when he does I always feel it’s my duty to give in. And as for the risk, there’s risks in pretty near everything a body does in this world. There’s risks in people’s having children of their own if it comes to that—they don’t always turn out well. And then Nova Scotia is right close to the Island. It isn’t as if we were getting him from England or the States. He can’t be much different from ourselves.”

“Well, I hope it will turn out all right,” said Mrs. Rachel in a tone that plainly indicated her painful doubts. “Only don’t say I didn’t warn you if he burns Green Gables down or puts strychnine in the well—I heard of a case over in New Brunswick where an orphan asylum child did that and the whole family died in fearful agonies. Only, it was a girl in that instance.”

“Well, we’re not getting a girl,” said Marilla, as if poisoning wells were a purely feminine accomplishment and not to be dreaded in the case of a boy. “I’d never dream of taking a girl to bring up. I wonder at Mrs. Alexander Spencer for doing it. But there, SHE wouldn’t shrink from adopting a whole orphan asylum if she took it into her head.” Lucy Maud Montgomery quotes.

Follow me for more inspiration! 💜💕

[hotwings0203]

Bully!Dabi pt. 3

Tags: @shikamaruscumrag @pinkiy13l @an-ambivalent @luno614 @sukunasleftkneecap

Tw:dubcon, noncon, bullying, manipulation, Russian roulette

“Doll? Come on out and I won’t hurt you too bad.”

You wait with bated breath as he walks right past your hiding place behind some crates, blue fire licking up the sides of his body and held in the palms of his scarred hands.

He’s mad, you know he is. He’s teasing you, of course he is, why else wouldn’t he just turn on the lights and pounce?

No, this is another punishment of sorts. A punishment for escaping your previous punishment from being locked in your room.

Another lash of burning cobalt strikes against a wall about 10 feet away from you, and you curse yourself internally. If only you had just stayed in bed a couple days more, if only you hadn’t snuck out when he left, if only, if only…

“Baaaabbyyyyy”

It sounds so wrong and uncharacteristic coming out from his gravely voice.

You huddle your limbs even closer to yourself, paying no mind to the cramping in your knees from being squished for so long.

It’s been about 25 minutes or so from what you can remember. It’s hard to remember anything that happened this bland morning anyways when the climax of your life was seemingly taking place here, after you entered the wrong room.

You had honestly just wanted a peek outside of Dabi’s room and maybe a drink of water, nothing more.

Or so you tell yourself.

But can you really be blamed? Who else wouldn’t have run out the moment they got a chance after spending almost two weeks in the same shitty room, being used as fuckmeat and only given bread scraps and salty cum as meals.

It didn’t matter how close he held you at night, how his strokes seemed to brush up against all the right places, how he tried catching your eye every time he wanted to talk about anything (which you would never really indulge in, only giving him a soft grunt or a nod). He was a monster, a demon in disguise that was keeping you against your will in his clutches.

A loud crash closer than before hits your ears, and you stifle an impending whimper. You can tell he’s roamed closer than before, finding nothing from his earlier place in the front of the storage room.

“I’m getting pretty fucking tired of repeating myself doll. You must be even more of a masochist than I thought since it’s like you want me to fuck you up even worse than I did before.”

His words are quiet but they do enough to cause a loud beating in your already-pacing heart, so loud in fact that you fear he can hear it racing a mile a minute.

You wonder if anyone is nearby, if they even remember you’ve been missing for a while now.

“Y/N”

“Come out, pretty girl. You know I miss you”

But you don’t miss him.

What you do miss, however, is not being chased into an empty storage room and hounded like a fucking dog. You miss joking with Twice, painting your nails with Toga, making Shigaraki chuckle.

All of a sudden, the crate next to you is covered with hellfire. The flames that are thrust from Dabi’s hands are so wild that they seat through your shirt and prick your skin.

You scream and scrabble backwards, the light of his fire illuminating his face leering up above you in the dark like a ghoul from a children’s book.

You clap your hands over your mouth, ignoring your bubbling skin as fear overrides premonition, but the damage has already been done.

It’s eerily quiet for a minute. Then, he whispers,

“Found you”

Even in the pitch black room you can practically see him lunging towards you, and you scuttle backwards on your hands and feet in terror. His hands miss your bare feet by a few inches, and he snarls before making another swipe.

“Fucking bitch, this is the thanks I get for taking care of you, bathing you, feeding and fucking you?”

You yelp as he lights up the floor on both sides of your trembling body, and you see his figure once more as the blue fire shows the sick grin twisted up on his face.

“Leave me alone,” you sob, clambering up on your feet and running backwards as he advances on you. The smoke from his quirk is filling the room, and you erupt in hoarse coughs as it’s filtered through your aching lungs.

Everything about him is toxic.

“Nah. That’s not how this works sweetheart. You see, I take care of you, and in return, you do whatever the fuck I say when I say it.”

He raises his palms to you and you flinch, covering your head and colliding with the wall behind you. You’re too scared and tired to evade him again as you feel his body cover you and brush against yours as you shake in place, your arms still above your face.

He cooes at you. “There there, my stupid little bitch. You were scared daddy was gonna hurt you, right?”

His stitched palm caresses your bitten bottom lip and trails up to your tear-stained cheek.

After a moment of you saying nothing, he slaps the side of your face, hard, and you gasp in pain. Now it wasn’t just your stomach that felt on fire.

“I asked you a question, you brain dead whore. Are you scared daddy’s gonna burn you? ‘You scared he’s gonna beat you black you blue? ‘Scared he’s gonna cut a gaping hole in your burnt tummy and fuck the gash?” He leans in and lets his raspy words settle over your ears as he tenderly brushes your hair away from it. He softly kisses the shell of you ear, and when you sob quietly he wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you close, paying no heed to how you uncomfortably squirm when your raw torso burns from the contact.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try not to inhale too much, lest the smoke embedded all over his body gets too close for comfort in your system.

“Y-yes daddy. Please don’t hurt me, I was…a bad girl.” You cringe when the words are wobbled out, but you know it’s what he wants.

To humiliate you, to hurt you. Who was he kidding when he said he loved you?

Dabi, however, feels butterflies in his own stomach.

See, this is what you need. To answer to Daddy, to submit to him so that he can take care of you. That’s why you stayed so long in his room, right? It’s cause you knew it would make him happy if you listened to him. You let him make love to you, and treat you like his little girl because deep down, you know this is where you belong.

So why are you fighting him? You never raised a complaint for a week and a half, you only stayed quiet and kept your eyes shut when he asked if you were okay. That means you liked it, right? No real opposition, after all.

Except for now.

Dani is honestly disappointed in you right now, you were doing so well…so why’d you have to go and ruin it?

He might’ve softened from the way your body shakes and your sobs are muffled by his smoke-scorched jacket as you press against him for comfort, but the image of you turning around and running away when you saw him earlier hurts him too much.

It angers him.

Why the fuck were you so scared? Hasnt he shown you enough that he loved you? What, does he need to fucking spell it out for you?

Why were your eyes filled with such terror when he caught you? Did you turn away from him and run because you thought he was going to make you look like him, all burnt up and hideous?

Honestly, he would never, but if you’re so hellbent on making him the bad guy, then fine, he’ll play the bad guy.

Anything for his precious little girl.

And so he tightens his arms around you and chuckles cruelly when you whine at the lack of air.

“Well, you were right. I am pretty pissed, I mean I told you to come out and you didn’t listen right?”

“S-sorry,” you weakly choke out.

He laughs even more crazed now, crushing your ribs so tight he could actually hear your breath wheezing out of you, could feel your weak little punches against his back.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. No no, I want you to beg for your fucking life now.”

Your eyes widen as his arms begin to warm up and become unbearably hot.

“Dabi, no, no please!”

You writhe in pain as he cackles above you, savoring the choked breaths that emit from your wetted lips.

As soon as you begin to see spots, he releases you, and flings you against the corner of the room.

You go flying and bang your head against the concrete wall, his voice muted and swimming around in your ears as you fight for consciousness.

He saunters towards you in all his flaming glory, hands in his pockets as if he were walking out for some fresh air. He crouches in front of you and lifts your head with the pads of his fingers.

“Awww, my poor little girl. That had to have hurt, huh? You’re bleeding,” he cooes and blows a strand of hair away from your eyes.

He’s not lying, you can feel hot blood trickle down the side of your head as your vision sways.

“Stop this,” you pant. “I get it, I’m sorry- you were right and I was wrong, I shouldn’t have ran. I’ll listen to you from now on-“

“-But you said that last time, didn’t you?” He cocks his head and with the light of his turquoise fire against the shadows of the room, he looks like a being from hell itself.

“Remember? When you sucked me off like the dirty whore you are? Remember that you stupid cunt?” His grin becomes more reminiscent of a wolf baring its fangs, and you’re rendered silent in complete terror.

He takes your silence as an encouraging factor to continue his fun.

“You ever played Russian Roulette, Y/N?”

You have enough sense to quickly shake your head, a sinking feeling in your stomach forming at his implication.

“Me neither. But I kinda wanna try it right now. So, back against the wall. Stand up straight and spread your legs.”

You look at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious Dabi.”

He raises an eyebrow and a fire grows in the palm of his hand. “Wanna find out? Oh wait, you already are- now do what I said otherwise you’ll have one less leg.”

You don’t need more motivation to act on his orders.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly spread your legs and place your palms flat against the wall.

“Spread ‘em more. That shouldn’t be anything new to you.”

You wince at his dig but continue to widen the stance between your legs.

He smiles at your compliance.

“Good. This should be fairly easy, I mean the room is already dark enough to count as having a blindfold. Whatever you do, just don’t move.”

You wouldn’t know it, but he’s sincerely saying it for your sake. He’s glad for the safety of the dark, because he doesn’t want you to see the way he hastily wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as he prepares himself for his next move.

The room goes dark, his fire has been put out.

You inhale softly, blood pounding in your heart as your hands shake in anticipation.

Then all of a sudden, a fireball comes barreling right towards you, in between your parted legs.

You shriek and jerk, but luckily you’re saved from being singed.

“I told you not to move, babe.” He clicks his tongue and rubs his erection absentmindedly.

A second, then third bolt of fire comes at the side of your head, singing your hair and then dangerously close to your already burnt stomach.

At each one you sob and do your best not to move, not to take in Dabi’s utterly emotionless face as you wail for mercy.

The last one comes so powerful that as it strikes the wall next to you, flecks of ash sting your cheeks and lips.

Your knees are jelly, your mouth is aching from begging for your life as he wanted.

But you know he’s done when he lets out a loud yawn and groan as he stretches his arm and flexes his fingers.

“A-are we done?” You sniffle.

He says nothing at first. You just hear him ask a couple steps towards you, his boots echoing in the room. You assume he stops in front of you because you can feel his body in front of your kneeling figure.

His hand descends and feels around until he reaches the top of your head. Stroking softly, he twirls locks through his fingers and gently shushes you until your hiccups subside, and you lean your forehead against his thigh.

“‘You happy it’s done? You did so well for me, sweetheart.”

“Yes Dabi. Thank you,” you utter softly, knowing it’s what he wants to hear.

“Yeah? How thankful are you?”

You still at that.

He starts to unbuckle his belt.

You pull your head back, and he pulls his pants down.

“Dabi-“

“Shhh, don’t ruin this. Just keep your mouth shut and let your body do the talking. Show me how grateful you are that I spared your fucking life.”

The gentle way he handled you clashed with his harsh words, and you have a moment of whiplash.

He kneels down in front of you and lets his hands wander in the dark until he meets your torso.

You hiss at the sensitive flesh, but he doesn’t stop. He just moves his hand under your shirt and higher, pushing your bra up until your tits spill from the bottom of it.

He bites his lip as you whimper from his touch, his thumbs swirling around your nipples and prodding the squishy flesh.

Dabi gets more eager when you throw your head back at one particularly rough squeeze and shuffles even closer, his pants and underwear at his knees, member bouncing out in the open air.

“Take your panties off,” he rasps, furiously stroking his cock.

You surrender and slowly pull your sweats off, and then your panties as you hear him lightly panting in eagerness.

The second he hears them drop to the floor he lunges for your feet and yanks your forward, catching you in his lap as you yelp.

It’s pitch black, but he can feel you clear as day.

The tickle of your hair hanging in his face, your sweet smell clouding his rationale, the melodious sounds of fear and pleasure mixed with pain make his prick stand painfully at attention, weeping at the slit for your pussy.

He doesn’t even bother taking your shirt off in impatience, he simply barks at you to hold the hem up so he can feel your breasts bouncing against his face when he motorboats them.

You, however, shakily hold his hand at your waist when he pulls you forward until your bare hole presses against his length, coating it with light juices.

“Oh fuck, doll, your pussy’s practically begging me to fuck it. ‘You like having your life in danger? No wonder you keep fucking up,” he groans as he moved beneath you, letting his hips rock back and forth to gain friction from under you.

“Wait, go slowly-“

“No the fuck I won’t,” he interrupts. You have enough sense to bite back any retorts from the subtle growl in his words.

He lifts you up from underneath your ass, and you raise your hips in compliance as he grabs his dick, circling it around your swollen nub and then pressing it against your entrance.

You breath shakily and run your hands through his hair, not so much in a loving gesture but tightly in futile hopes to deter him in any possible way.

He takes it either way as you wanting him equally, and without further ado he slams your hips down on his whole length.

You howl in pain as he begins bouncing you, pressing down on your shoulders and forcing your poor cunt to envelope him fully at each stroke.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of your ass clapping on his dick, the mixed fluids from both of your bodies and the harmonies of his low grunts and your high pitched whines.

You can feel his dick twitch violently inside of you as he nears his climax. He flips you over on your back and starts pounding into you, laughing cruelly in your face as you cry out from the intensity of his strokes.

“D-Dabi! Pull out, I’m not on birth control!”

“Good.”

You open your eyes to stare at him in horror, barely making out the marred features of his face.

“I’m gonna fill you up with my babies. You’re gonna be plugged with my cum from now on, ‘s the only way you’ll stop running.”

“Get the fuck off me, this isn’t funny-!”

He grabs your rising fists and pins them back against the floor, crushing your wrists in the process.

“Who said I’m laughing?” And he isn’t laughing anymore, no, on the contrary he looks the most serious that he’s ever been, and that terrifies you the most.

The upper half of his body is suspended in midair above you as his pelvis smashes against your clit in a steady rhythm.

“‘Bet you’d like that, bet you’d like having all your holes stuffed with my kids. They’re gonna grow up and know how slutty their mommy was, they’re gonna watch and learn how Daddy earned his name. You think they’ll cry when they hear you scream for me?”

You want to rip out your ears from the filth pouring from his mouth, but unfortunately your hands are trapped under his grasp.

All you can do is chant “no, no, no,” under your breath as he’s pushed over the edge.

“Or maybe I’ll tie your legs against the barstools outside and let every man out there have his way with you. You missed them, right? I’m sure they missed you too, I’m sure they missed the way you’d fuck them the second they made you laugh,” bitterness seeps into his voice as ropes of cum shoot out.

He moans loudly in your ear and collapses against your body, sweat intermingling in the cervices of your entangled limbs.

It takes around three minutes for you both to catch your breaths, and for him to shakily raise himself on his elbows to peer down into your ruddy face.

“Clean yourself up. You’re going back to my room. And this time, if you try to run we’ll repeat this entire process again, but I’ll actually let everyone have their way with you. It’ll be like an orgy version of Russian Roulette, well all place bets on whose kid it is.”

You don’t miss the rest of the League, anymore

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 14) - Keep Close

Summary: The Ackles have the Padalecki’s over for dinner and let it slip that they’re engaged. Things seem to be going well but the anniversary of the accident is coming up and the reader comes up with the Ackles taking their first vacation together as a means of distracting Jensen as well reconnecting with Ray...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of sex, mention of a dead parent/spouse, anxiety

A/N: Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

“I’m stuffed,” said Jensen that night, the kids running around playing soccer in the yard after dinner. 

“I need that chicken recipe,” said Jared.

“I’ll write it down for you guys,” you said, sitting back in your chair. “You can do it with breast too if you like that better.”

“I want exactly this like, everyday from now on,” said Jared. Gen rolled her eyes and Jensen pulled out his phone. “Want me to take a pic?”

“I don’t need your freakishly long arms just yet,” chuckled Jensen. He turned around and took one of the four of you at the table before handing off his phone. “Mind getting one of us?”

“Your mom harassing you for engagement photos already?” asked Gen.

“By the time we were leaving they were both asking for photos and being obnoxious. Better than they were though,” said Jensen, smiling beside you. Jared took a few more and handed the phone back. 

“I still can’t believe your parents would act like that,” said Gen. “I mean obviously I’m super happy it got fixed but that’s so unlike them.”

“They made a mistake is all,” you said with a smile. “I don’t know about you guys but I’m going to finish this beer in the pool.”

“I think I’ll join you,” said Jared. He stood up and had a look on his face you caught too late. Before you knew it he had you picked up and was jogging over to the deep end and jumping in with you.

“Jared!” you said when you popped up. He giggled and swam off to the shallow end. “After I helped pick up the plates ya big lug.”

“We got it,” said Jensen, carrying over two beer cans and handing them to you. “We’ll join you guys in a few.”

About ten minutes later Jensen was leaning against the side of the pool in his bright red swim trunks, handing you the other half of his cookie cake piece.

“So any big plans for the wedding?” asked Jared, sat on the pool steps with Gen.

“I have a thought,” you said, turning to Jensen. “I haven’t discussed it with Jensen yet.”

“Vegas. Shotgun wedding,” he laughed. You shook your head and he grinned. “You’re thinking the farm, aren’t you.”

“What do you think? It could be outdoor or indoor, whatever it needs to be depending on the weather.”

“I’d love that,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “That’d be perfect for us.”

“You own a farm?” asked Jared. 

“Yeah, ten minutes from the brewery.”

“Dudes. You can open bar with your own beer. Oh and dibs on being a groomsmen.”

“Like that wasn’t gonna happen,” said Jensen.

“I don’t know on that,” you said. Jared’s face fell and you shook your head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be one. Of course you would. I just don’t have a lot of close girlfriends. I think it’d be weird if Jensen had a ton and…”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” said Gen. “We didn’t have an even number at our wedding.”

“We got time to figure that stuff out,” said Jensen, holding your waist. You finished the last bite of cookie and hummed. 

“So you two having a kid?” asked Jared. Gen whacked his chest and he shrugged.

“Jesus, Jare. Don’t ask that.”

“They’re our best friends and godparents to our children...although I guess Y/N didn’t know that she inherited that until now but come on, I know you’re wondering too.”

“Shut up,” said Gen, crossing her arms. “Obviously if they decide, they’ll tell us when it happens.”

“Yeah, I think there’ll be at least one,” you laughed. Gen lit up and turned to Jared.

“Last time they said they were having a baby guess what we did? I can’t handle no more babies,” said Jared.

“Can you even get that thing up anymore?” teased Jensen, sipping on his beer.

“You’re one to talk, old man.”

“That shit still works just fine.”

“Just fine?” shot back Jared.

“Oh my God. You’re both good at sex. Y/N be grateful you’ve missed this same conversation over and over for the past sixteen odd years,” said Gen. 

“I’m still taller,” said Jared with a smirk.

“I can last longer,” said Jensen with one of his own. They narrowed their eyes at one another and Jared stood up.

“Go wrestle on the grass,” groaned Gen. They both huffed and got out of the pool before starting to playfully wrestle. “See, what you may not realize yet is you have another child right there.”

“Yeah but he’s hot,” you said, Gen laughing while you sat beside her. “Do you guys really talk about sex with each other?”

“Yes and no. The boys are you know, boys. They’d combust if they didn’t tease each other. I wouldn’t say there’s like, intimate details or anything ever shared. They’re both pretty private about that sort of thing. Dee and I would talk but more so say we had fun the night before. Shit we probably talked about sex toys more than anything.”

You stopped mid sip of your beer and she laughed.

“When your guy is thousands of miles away for that long out of the year, you gotta get off on your own. You get pretty good at phone sex too. You’re lucky. Jensen won’t be staying away so long ever again he said.”

“No, no. But uh...before Jensen I’d had the same boyfriend forever and he was as vanilla as could be. We didn’t do that stuff really together.”

“I can text you some links to stuff. It’s not like you have to go in some scary store or anything. It’s discrete and I think a small vibe would be great to start with. You can use it during sex or foreplay or whatever. Just you know, have fun.”

“Jensen and I kinda got busted by the cops a week or so back for...activities in the backseat,” you said. She started to laugh and you groaned. “Thankfully it was his friend that caught us so he let us off the hook but...it was kinda fun.”

“Good,” she said, sighing as Jensen pinned Jared down. “Hey so yeah about that wedding thing. Jared had two more groomsmen than I had girls. It doesn’t have to be matchy, matchy, you know?”

“I know. I don’t know if…” you trailed off. “I lost my friend group when I broke it off with my last boyfriend. We’d been together for over ten years and I kept turning down his proposals and they didn’t like that. I have some nanny friends but not a lot and no one I’m really close to. I don’t know if I’d even get more than five people to come for me. Everyone else is his family and friends and I didn’t think about that until just now. I mean what would they think, seeing that? I don’t know if I even want anyone there now.”

“I think what they’d see is someone they care about marrying someone he loves. Just because we’re Jensen’s friends doesn’t mean we’re not your friends too. I know we’re still getting to know each other but we’ll be as close as those two eventually. Ruthie was texting me and we’re having a girls night the next convention in Dallas. You literally have a built in crew ready to go from the show, the girls and the guys. You are so coming with me to the next night I have with my local girlfriends and you got our family. You even got Dee’s parents. You have more than you know, sweetie.”

“I never had a best friend growing up except for my mom. Until Jensen,” you said. “I’ve never really been good at the friend thing.”

“Were you bullied in school?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t tell anyone besides Jared but my dad wasn’t a good person. He hurt me and so I was afraid of getting in trouble so I didn’t talk to other kids all that much until I got old enough to understand what he was doing was wrong and that’s how I ended up being adopted.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can’t do anything about it now. But I can have it not control my life too. I’ve been pretty good since I was nine in that department. My mom dying sucked and things have been up and down but I like where I am now. This is easily the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Jens’s not perfect.”

“I know. But he’s good enough. He gave me a certain confidence to live my life, like really live it.”

“He’s alright,” she smiled. “You know I have an idea about this bridesmaids thing you might like.”

“You?”

“Oh I would for sure but I meant more so I know two little girls that wouldn’t mind. Maybe there’s a boy too,” she said.

“I’m gonna need you to be my wedding planner at this rate,” you said.

“Job accepted,” she said. “I say we go farmhouse modern style.”

“Gen. I got engaged like two weeks ago. We have time,” you said. “We don’t even have a date.”

“At the very least can we go dress shopping?” she asked.

“I’m going to regret this,” you sighed as Jensen stepped back in the water.

“Get yourself a stronger man, Padalecki. That one is weak,” he said. Jared followed him right after and went to tackle him when Gen caught his arm.

“Boys, not in the water,” she said.

“Chicken?” asked Jensen.

“Losers pick up the tab for when we go out this weekend for dinner. Deal?” asked Jared.

“Well in that case, you’re on.”

Two Weeks Later

“Jensen,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair while he absentmindedly burnt some eggs. “You okay babe?”

“Yeah. We ought to pack up the kids, get on the road soon if we’re gonna hit the beach.”

“I’m gonna drive, okay?” you asked. He nodded and you got out the eggs again, making up a new batch. “Do you want to talk to Ray?”

“Why?” he asked quietly, leaning back against the counter.

“Anniversaries of traumatic events can be triggering,” you said. “My mom died two days ago. Well, you know what I mean.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

“Because it doesn’t trigger me anymore. But it did and this is the first time...the first one is the roughest.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I ought to talk to him.”

“Eat your breakfast. I’ll give him a call and get the kids ready while you guys talk, okay?” you said.

“Thank you,” he said. You kissed his cheek and hugged him before you went upstairs for your phone. It rang a few times but Ray finally answered, noise in the background.

“Y/N. Everything alright?” he asked.

“Hey. Yeah. We’re...we’re pretty good. Today’s the first anniversary of Jensen’s-”

“Ah. I understand.”

“Listen, I know it’s a Sunday and you don’t work the weekends but would you mind talking to him for a few minutes? We’re going down to Galveston for the week in a bit but he’s off this morning.”

“I’d talk to him even if he wasn’t your fiance but especially because of that. You know we’re actually down here ourselves for a few days. Just got down yesterday. If you guys are around...maybe we could get together for that swim.”

“I’d like that. You okay?” you asked.

“I always get a little down on the day but Sarah understands. You understand.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna put Jensen on and um, maybe we can meet at Arillo’s for dinner?”

“We got a reservation there ourselves tonight. How many in your crew? Five? I’ll call and ask for an update.”

“Yeah there’s five of us. Um, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for being so horrible as a teenager after mom. You loved her as much as I did.”

“Thank you but you don’t have to apologize for that. You got too much pain in your life. I’m glad you found the good stuff too.”

“Are Geroge and Taylor there?” you asked.

“Yeah kids are here. Taylor’s got some internship but she does it online half the day and George is some research assistant thing for one of his professors but same kinda deal. We leave them to work in the morning while Sarah and I have some fun. Want me to let them know you’re coming?”

“Probably a good idea. Not sure how they’ll react,” you said, Jensen poking his head into the bedroom. “Here’s Jensen.”

“Okay, sweetie. We’ll see you guys soon.”

You handed the phone to Jensen and finished up packing while he sat on the bed. You tried to leave him be but couldn’t help listening in.

“Yeah I’m anxious...I don’t want her to drive down today...you know why...I guess...probably...I don’t want to be freaking out for three hours in the car...because it’s today...I know...I know...so I have to suck it up...I don’t want to have a panic attack in the car with the kids...no I haven’t...I’m scared I will though...yeah...I understand...dude that sounds so stupid...that’s not medically anything...no I don’t have my doctorate...I don’t wanna ask her...I said I don’t want to, not that I wouldn’t...I know...I will...maybe I’ll try that too...yeah, Y/N said the first year is the roughest too...I’ll let her be in charge until we get down to the beach today. I think I’ll feel better after the car...yeah I kinda figured out what she was doing planning a trip on today of all days...I need it...really? Yeah, I’m looking forward to meeting up down there too...thanks Ray.”

You finished with your suitcase and had his open for him when he walked into the closet. He swallowed and handed your phone back.

“All good?” you asked.

“Ray thought it might be a good idea if I had something of yours with me on the way down, to keep on me since I’m...anxious this morning about being in a car.”

“Something of mine…” you said, looking at your side of the closet. “Why don’t you pack up and I’ll get you something before the road, okay?”

He nodded and twenty minutes and about three bathroom trips later the SUV was packed up. You hopped behind the wheel, Jensen tapping the arm rest from the passenger seat. 

“Here,” you said, reaching into your pocket, pulling out a bracelet. It was fabric, the kind made from craft string, white, rusty orange and a light tan color mixed together. 

“I’ve never seen this,” he said as he held it between his fingers.

“I got it on vacation with mom and Ray. Last one we went on,” you said, tying it around his wrist. “You have it.”

He stared at you as you turned the engine on, watching you backout. 

“This is too important for me to take,” he said quietly.

“It’s fabric. I want you to have it, okay?” you said, pulling onto the street and closing the gate. He nodded and you turned the radio on low. “Coffee run?”

“Yeah. Coffee sounds good right about now.”

You were only about fifteen or so minutes away from the beach house you’d rented. The kids were either taking naps in the backseats or watching a movie on the ipad. You risked a glance at Jensen, his fingers absently toying with the bracelet while he looked out the window, the radio on low. 

“How you doing big guy?” you asked as you pulled off to the exit ramp. 

“Pretty good now,” he said softly. 

“Mind navigating for me?” you asked. He hummed and picked up your phone from where it sat in the console the past few hours. About twenty minutes or so you were stretching outside of the car, Jensen opening the front door of the house with the code you’d been given. The kids climbed out and were good about each taking their own backpacks while you and Jensen gathered up the rest. 

“Come here,” he said, leaving the bags by his feet and kissing you against the side of the car. You grinned and he picked you up in a big squeezing hug. “I love you.”

“I know,” you said. He set you down and kissed you again. “You seem like yourself again.”

“I needed that push, get over that fear. But now, I can enjoy my day with my girl and my kiddos and apparently we are having dinner with Ray and his family tonight?” he asked.

“If that’s alright,” you said.

“One hundred percent,” he said, Arrow jumping up and down nearby. “Honey, go use the bathroom in the house if you have to go.”

“No I’m excited!” she said. “Can we go play on the beach? Pretty please?”

“Hm, give daddy fifteen minutes and then we can go?” he asked. She turned to you and grinned.

“We’ll go really soon sweetie. I promise.”

“Hey guys,” said Jensen an hour later, the five of you down on the beach and mostly watching them build a sandcastle together. “Y/N and I want to tell you something.”

“Is it that you guys are getting married?” asked JJ, patting some sand with her shovel. You glanced at Jensen and he shrugged. “You were talking to Aunt Gen and Uncle Jared about it last night, right?”

“Well, yes we were,” said Jensen. “I suppose we were a little louder than we thought. But yes, Y/N and I have decided to get married. We’re not sure when exactly but in the next year I can say.”

“So we have a mom again?” asked Arrow, fixing her corner of the castle that kept caving in.

“Well you guys are kinda lucky. You’ll get two moms,” he said. “How’s that sound?”

“We missed mom’s day,” she said with a sigh. “Right?”

“We’ll catch it next year, promise,” said Jensen. “Do you guys have any questions or anything you want to say?”

“Do we call you mom now?” asked JJ. 

“You guys call me whatever you want,” you said.

“Can we call you mom?” she asked. You nodded and she went back to playing in the sand. 

“Anything else guys?” asked Jensen.

“Can I get a giraffe?” asked Zeppelin while he figured out how much water to add to the sand to get it to stick together.

“No sweetie. They wouldn’t fit at our house,” said Jensen. 

“Darn it,” he said.

“I can tell you’re all so invested in this topic,” chuckled Jensen.

“Oh! Can my flower girl dress be purple?” asked JJ. 

“Your dress can be whatever color you want it to be,” you said.

“Awesome,” she said. “Or black and purple. With lightning stripes.”

“Ah, I knew the classic rock would finally pay off,” said Jensen.

“Maybe Daddy’s suit can be black and white stripes, like a tiger,” you said.

“Like a White Snake music video more like it,” he laughed. “We’ll figure all that stuff out. We wanted to make sure you guys knew was all and if you have any questions or were nervous or anything you know you can ask either one of us.”

“Mom makes you happy again. Of course you gotta marry her!” said Arrow. “Oh and get her a pony. Girls like that.”

“Would you care for a pony, sweetheart?” asked Jensen as he shook his head. 

“Are we talking mustang kind of pony?” you asked.

“That’s my girl,” he said, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, kissing your cheek. “Let dad get a picture of you guys. We’re on vacation after all.”

Five Hours Later

“Jensen,” you said, changing into a light summer top and a pair of denim shorts after your shower. He was standing by his suitcase undressed, trailing his finger over his scar. “Honey?”

“A year ago was the worst day of my life and today was a really great one. I get to meet Ray more and even Sarah and the kids who all sound great and...I’m really happy I’m still here to see all this.”

“Me too,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “Wear your red underwear.”

“Is that a request?”

“I like how you look when you take it off,” you said, gently smacking his ass as you went to go fix your hair.

“I am so grateful I found you,” he said to himself. You smiled and brushed your teeth quickly before checking yourself over and taking a selfie. You sat up on the counter and opened instagram, still silently grateful you’d always had it on private. There was nothing bad on it but Jensen and Jared had tagged you before and all of the comments always seemed to be negative.

“How do I look?” asked Jensen, walking in wearing a short sleeve navy button down and his red underwear.

“So sexy,” you giggled, Jensen digging through his other bag and finding his khaki shorts. 

“Can I get away with sneakers and a backwards baseball cap at this restaurant?” he asked.

“Totally. We always eat outside. It’s near the pier,” you said, putting up your post.

“Taking more pictures I can show off of you again?” he asked, grabbing your brush and getting some control of his damp hair back.

“Nobody even sees my instagram hardly,” you said.

“You know the internet knows we’re dating, right.”

“I’m pretty sure your fans still aren’t okay with that fact, even if they know.”

“Oh you’re mistaking the nutjobs for actual fans. The real ones, those guys are cool and nice. I actually got a lot of care packages and things from them last year. Still do. They really are good people. Those other ones that leave nasty comments? Fuck them. That shit don’t bother me anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying family and friends know. Can I show off the woman I love to the world?” You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in front of you, his head cocking. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Better late than never.”

“Okay,” he said. “For now though, I’m looking forward to this dinner.”

“I hope it goes well. It’s George and Taylor I’m more worried about. They were kids when I decided to stop coming around. I only knew them maybe two years, if even that. I know they were upset.”

“Give them some credit. Ray raised them too after all.”

“I’m all set!” said Zeppelin, walking into the bathroom with his paw patrol shirt and nothing else on.

“At least I was gonna wear underwear,” chuckled Jensen. “Little dude. Get some undies on and shorts in the next two minutes or else…” he trailed off as he came in and hugged Jensen’s leg. 

“I love you, daddy,” he said.

“I love you.”

“Can we get a giraffe now?” he asked. Jensen rolled his eyes and you released him.

“Let’s go finish getting you dressed, buddy.”

“So you guys were Sarah’s fosters?” asked Jensen towards the end of dinner, all three kids passed out asleep in the stroller or on the bench besides you while you picked at your shared dessert. Neither George or Taylor had said much aside from introducing themselves. 

“Guys,” said Ray, nudging Taylor. “I’m sorry for our children’s rudeness. I was afraid of this.”

“Shut up,” they both said, Sarah sighing.

“The kids were both big fans of Supernatural. They grew up watching it with me. It was something we bonded over at first in fact,” she said. 

“Oh,” said Jensen, a smirk forming on his face. “Sam or Dean girls? George come on buddy, it’s okay.”

“This isn’t happening,” said Taylor, her eyes squeezed shut.

“So you guys don’t want to hear about the movie, gotcha,” he said, both of them snapping their heads up.

“He really is a dork,” you said. 

“Movie?” asked George.

“Someday. You can count on it,” said Jensen. “Maybe I’ll go easy on you guys and ask what mom was?”

“You boys are a little young for my tastes but honestly the guy who played John was very attractive,” she said.

“Even I’d hit that,” said Ray, Sarah laughing to herself.

“You can see Ray wins his ladies over with his charm,” you said, glancing at Taylor and George. “Like you guys could literally ask anything you ever wanted about the show and get an unfiltered answer if you want.”

“Did you really keep the car?” asked George. Jensen nodded and held up his finger.

“When we’re back in town, you guys come over and you can take a spin in it,” he said.

“Okay, he’s cool with me,” said George. You cocked your head and he smiled. “That was the car from the show I always told you about.”

“Oh. I thought you were talking about batman or something,” you said, pursing your lips. “Sorry I wasn’t…”

“You always sucked at pretending to be happy,” said Taylor. You looked down and nodded. “We get it. You had to do your own thing.”

“Don’t hate me for leaving?”

“Maybe when we were little,” she said. “But we’re older and we get that you probably felt like a fifth wheel.”

“Yeah. A lot really,” you said. “It worked out though.”

“She’s a Dean girl by the way,” said Ray, cracking up as Taylor whacked his arm.

“Dad! Oh my God no I’m not! I like Sam!” she said.

“Want to talk to him?” grinned Jensen. Her face went red and you heard a quiet chuckle at the table. “You’re right, we’ll save that for in person.”

“You basically are marrying Dean Winchester without like, the trauma,” she said. Jensen tensed up but kept a smile on his face. You knew Ray caught it when he gave him a simple nod.

“Trauma’s not inherently bad,” said Ray. “Everyone at this table has gone through some.”

“I know, dad,” she said quietly. She looked at George and he nodded. “Our parents were in a house fire. So were we. I was five and Georgie was four.”

“She carried him out and went next door for help,” you said.

“I was in a car accident last year,” said Jensen. You turned your head. It wasn’t public knowledge that he was in the car. He’d flat out told you that aside from family and a few friends, no one besides you knew. “I almost died. My wife did but for other reasons. You can still have trauma and a really good life.”

“Very good point, Jensen,” said Ray. “You two rugrats wouldn’t be around if mom and I had moped around in our misery forever.”

“Was he always such a sap?” asked George.

“From the day I met him,” you said, Jensen grabbing your hand under the table. “Would you mind watching the kids for a second?”

“Not at all,” he said. You excused yourself and brought Jensen along with you, walking out to the beach area, the breeze cool but light.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. I can talk about it now. I went from having the worst year of my life to one of the best. Nothing bad’s gonna happen for saying what really happened. I want to let all that shit go and have the rest of that really good life I was talking about.”

“For someone who keeps a lot inside I sure have noticed a difference in you the past few weeks.”

“To quote both of the loves of my life, I gotta let that shit out more regularly,” he said. You smiled and wrapped your arms over his shoulders, giving him a kiss. 

“You know that’s what we call growth, babe.”

“I very easily could have gone the opposite way this year.”

“But you didn’t, cause you tried even though it sucks sometimes. I love you but I extra love happy you and you’re definitely a happier guy now than when I met you.”

“So are you, honey,” he said. “Must make a pretty good team or something.”

“Oh yeah, maybe that’s it.”

“We should honestly get like, married or something, you know?” he teased.

“First I have to know though, are you willing to do cookie cake for a wedding cake?”

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice,” he said. “The real questions is, are you willing to deal with the eventual dad bod that will happen as a result?”

“I love this bod, but I don’t love you for this bod,” you said. 

“Thank you for today,” he said softly. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said. He grinned and kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly. “What are best friends for?”

“Everything?”

“Hell yeah they are Ackles.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 15 here!

[spideyspeaches]

Vibrations per minute ↬ P.P

AN: Based on this post ehehe. (Also 223 followers?! I’m not crying you are ಥ‿ಥ Beta read by my baby sis @parkerpeter24​ <3<3

➳ Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

➳ Warnings: smut (semi public), vibrator, minors dni

➳ WC: 1.8k +

➳ Masterlist || Taglist

Peter Parker was not who he looked to be. He was the kind of guy who impressed parents with his bambi eyes and A+ academic performances, but at the same time, he could be a little shit and tease the fuck out of you. For example-

Bets were a naturally occurring event in the Avengers compound, whether it was between Sam and Bucky about who could eat the most number of marshmallows in one go or between Tony and Peter on who could digest more amount of coffee in the least amount of time (both of which landed them in the medbay). 

So maybe placing a bet with your boyfriend may not have been your most intelligent choice. You were a smart woman, you should have known better than to place a bet with Spider-Man, especially if the bet included cardio. 

And now you were facing the consequences. 

You were sitting in the post mission debriefing room, thighs clenched as you saw your boyfriend trying (and failing) to hide his shit eating smirk. You felt the vibrations inside you once again, a little faster than before. Suppressing a moan, you tried to glare murder at him without letting the others know. 

Puffing your cheeks, you slid down the chair, hands folded on your chest. You were pretty sure your cheeks were blood red with the amount of heat you felt.

"Y/N are you sure you're alright? You look a little flushed." Steve asked, shifting to look at you from where he was besides You. He looked concerned.

"Uh- yeah- yeah I'm good. Just exhausted." You stuttered a response. Huffing, you tried to discreetly rub your stomach from clenching. A little whimper escaped your throat, which you quickly suppressed by picking up the glass of water and chugging down some.

Sam looked at you weirdly, the others not paying attention as Nick Fury asked them questions. 

"Miss Stark if you think you're going to get out of debriefing because your little boyfriend and father are sitting here, you're wrong. Please pay attention" Fury said, looking at you with his pirate eye, before turning around and muttering, "I swear sometimes they behave like school children."

You gave Bucky and Sam a glare as they snickered. 

"I'm sorry, I'll- uhh- I'll pay more attention. I'm just, my tummy hurts." You whimpered, flushing when you realised you had said "tummy" in front of the Avengers. 

"Well you better take care of the tummy ache. Don't want you to poo all over here." Peter smirked, your jaw dropping at how rude the little shit was. How unfortunate would it be when he finds out someone had burnt his Kylo Ren special edition figurine? 

"Fuck you asshat." You seethe, your glare intensifying when he increased the rate of vibrations using the phone app he was holding under the desk.

"Y/N, Peter, enough of this, now listen to what Pirate here has to say before he asks you to skedaddle back to your nursery." Your dad says, rolling his eyes at your childish banter.

You wanted to get out of there. Right away, because you couldn't take the shudders in between your legs anymore, or you would orgasm right there, in front of everyone. 

So to get back at them, you raised your hand like you were in elementary school, asking the teacher for permission, "May I go to the washroom? I wanna poo." You ask innocently, smirking when Fury widened his eyes.

Averting your eyes to your boyfriend, you silently conveyed your message, hoping that he got what you were up to. 

Ignoring the laughter of the babies in the Avengers' bodies, you stood up abruptly before he could change the settings anymore, walking stiffly to the bathroom.

"That was kind of mean of me." Peter finally said when you were out of his vision. 

"Yeah kid, I would've kicked your ass if I didn't know that she would do it before me." Tony snarked, curling his lips and shaking his head before going back to the dossier in front of him.

"You should go and apologise to her Pete. She looked upset." Steve piped in, his disappointed eyebrowsTM showing their way.

"She's in the toilet and he's a horny teenager, you really want him to go right now?" Sam said.

"Ew Sam, get your gutter brain out of here!" Peter defended, not meaning what he said.

In fact he was going to do just that. The entire time during the mission, you had been teasing him one way or another, whether it was landing in certain poses or just touching him every chance you get.

The bet was just an opportunity for him to get back at you for leaving him hot and bothered, dreaming about you all night in that tiny lingerie with spider prints on them.

“Yeah Sam, get out of here.” Natasha joked. Before he could witness the counter arguments though, he left the room, leaving a very noisy meeting room and a very frustrated Nick Fury. 

He found you in the bathroom stalls near the cafeteria. It was the women's bathroom but no one was around this time of the night, so he entered it. 

He could hear your moans and pants, your arousal hitting his nostrils as he tried to hyperfixate on you. His jeans suddenly felt strained at his… web shooter area. 

Opening the bathroom door, he clenched his fists. You were standing there, vibrator out of you and your finger inside, eyes scrunched as you threw your head back, not even noticing him enter.

"Why are you touching yourself?" He growled, smirking innocently when you jerked up, eyes taking a lustful look that sent his blood rushing south. 

"It's your fault. You were the one who made me horny in the middle of those boomers." You gritted. 

Your hand was poised on your waist now, legs still spread apart, your pussy on display. 

Grabbing you by your ass, he picked you up and slammed you against the wall, kissing your jaw, "Just seeking revenge." He mumbled  

"Oh oh Petey- revenge for what?" You moaned, arching your back as he undressed you, grabbing your now unclothed boob and sucking on one nipple, twisting the other with his fingers.

Moaning at the sensation of the cool tiles, you dug your fingers at his back, your wet pussy throbbing for a feel of his dick.

"You did it on purpose didn't you? Showing off during missions?" He sucked at your skin, leaving it tender and brushed, "you know how hot you look while you kick ass?" 

He unbuttoned his pants, letting his dick slip out with his boxers. His length never ceased to amaze you, the thick organ making your mouth water. You imagined it slipping into you, your thighs slipping wider on instinct.

He saw the look you were giving him, his lustful eyes full of mirth and desperation. Without waiting any further, he slipped out a condom from his discarded jeans' pocket, sliding his dick into your wet entrance, your ass hitting the wall as he pushed into your walls. 

Throwing your head back, you hissed as your walls clenched around him.

"You get, you get turned on when I kick ass?" You panted, grabbing his hair in desperation to the coiling in your gut, "Fuck I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna come Pete." 

"Well what are you waiting for princess?" He nibs your ear, squeezing your breasts to his now naked chest. You shuddered at the coolness of his body, he's always been cold to touch. 

"Fuck princess, feel so good." His mouth was slack, his thrusts getting harder as he shoved into you, "so tight for me. Enjoying my cock in your pussy eh?"

"Yes! Oh- I love it Pete I love it!" Hitting your head on his chest, you pinched his nipple, making him groan and hit your stomach, the slapping sound echoing in the bathroom.

"Say it louder pretty girl" 

"Why?" You whined, "I should get back to you for using the vibrator but I'm having too much fun." 

You groaned, Your eyes scrunched when his thrusts started to slow down, his senses too overloaded to work together with his stamina.

"Yeah you're needy aren't you?" He said, out of breath from your little meet. He set you down, wiping off your cum using the tissue paper, flushing it off in the toilet. 

He took a minute to just admire you. Your body was shining from sweat, your breath coming out in short pants. You were completely naked, breasts out to the display. He flushed when you smirked at him, you had caught him staring. Not that you minded.

"My beautiful girl." He said, voice husky from strain as he closed the distance between you both, holding you in his arms. 

You laid your head on his chest, rubbing your cheeks against his pectorals. You could hear his racing heart, chuckling when you saw heat rising up his chest to his neck and then face. 

"Why are you blushing? We literally just fucked." You laughed, tracing circles on his collarbones. He looked ethereal from where you were standing, perfectly sculpted by a skillful sculptor. 

"Because you're amazing and I can't believe you're my girl." He said. 

"Mmhm,” You nodded against him, “Also, do you always keep a condom in your pocket?" 

        __________••☆••__________

There were many reasons as to why you keep around Peter, and one of them is that he's an amazing chef. Living with his aunt and uncle, he and Ben had been the main source of home cooked meals, because Aunt May was never good at cooking. 

You saw him standing in the kitchen, flipping pancakes while he hummed to some melody. You didn't mind, you could stare at him all day. Thankfully, none of the Avengers were awake yet (but they would be. They're huge fans of his food) 

"Morning." You smile, wrapping your hands around his waist, placing your head on his back.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, moving around as you clung to him like a koala. Giggling, you wrapped your legs around his waist, jumping on his back like a potato sack. 

"Mmhm, the best sleep I've had in a long while." You mumble, words muffled by his back.

"Is that so?" He asked. 

"Yup." 

Hearing shuffling noises, you quickly jumped off of him, fixing your t-shirt and sitting on the dining table.

You saw as Steve and Sam entered the kitchen, Natasha soon following suit. Clint had left for his home early that morning, wanting to meet Laura and his kids as soon as he could. 

You smiled at each of them, nodding a good morning and helping them sort a plate. 

You were arranging the plates when you heard a choked gasp. Alarmed at the sound, you looked up at Steve's horrified expression, looking at where he was pointing a finger.

"What?" You asked, biting your lips.

"That- is that a hickey?!?" 

Slapping your neck, you let the plate clatter on the table, ignoring Peter's scrambled replies. You saw Bucky entering from the corner of your eye, unable to formulate a coherent answer.

"Oh my god, Bucky they totally fucked yesterday!" 

Page dividers by @cicicantblog​

[zuffer-weird-girl]

If you need inspiration here's an idea :)

Any character(preferably Dabi-) x a s/o who already had a kid/adopted a kid before they were together who is a sweetheart around their mom but as soon as she leaves the kid is a chaos gremlin. (Full on tasmanian devil that legit rips up furniture and bounces off the walls all while finding a way to commit arson in the span of two seconds)

That is all, thank you for your time :)

Okay, first many will not believe this but Dabi is actually good with tiny children (teenagers not so much because he thinks they're crap)

But HOLY HELL HE CANT ATTURE THIS LIL DEVIL YOU CALL "son/daughter"

He does not I swear

At first when he met them along with you he had this stoic face on as he watched the kid smile sweetly at him while you introduce each other.

But alas, you just HAD to get out of the living room to get something and this kid turned into a tasmania devil in 0.1 seconds.

His staples under his eyes almost fell with how wide his eyes were at the gremlin.

The lil shit also had the audacity on the middle of his "tantrum" kick him in his private area.

When you came back you were met with your child giggling sweetly and your boyfriend crunched over doing his best to not curse this kid.

He swears he is gonna murder that little sh-

They... dont exactly get along well at the start.

Majority of the start you had headaches about your kid whining about how mean Dabi was and your boyfriend just death glaring at the brat... he just prevented a fucking arson on your apartment and he was the mean one now.

HIM. THE ARSONIST. PREVENTED A ARSON OF YOUR KID.

Do YOU KNOWBHPW SERIOUS THIS IS?!

He doesn't know if you had hit your head or just went crazy when you begged him to take care of the demon for a whole evening...

Welp, guess he would just take the kid along to the villain gang.

What could go wrong, eh?

....

So...

He never laughed so hard in his life.

Thhe kid broke Shogaraki most rare games, scratched Toga until she was the one bleeding when she threatened to suck his blood, hit Kurogiri with a tennis ball to see if he was real or just smoke, made Twice enter on a existence crisis and to top it off he tugged Spinner purple hair hard enough to bring some of it home.

The league was terrified of that kid, seriously whose is this child?

After that Dabi and the kid actually get along well and he even jokes about if he could take your child on some missions to scare the heroes away.

You were like wtf

Your kid instead of puffing up their cheek and complaining about Dabi was now reffering him as his name instead of burnt toast and also squealed when he came home.

One evening you almost had a heart attack at knowing the two of them burn down a super market and found the two with almost every junk food on your apartment with a "Hey doll." "MAMA!"

What have you done...?

[prismadog]

Found Family AU character facts (part 4)

look, it's ANOTHER character facts post! idk why I put myself through this...I keep writing little stories here and having to go back through and be like "no, these are FACTS, Mykael! it is not story time, get yourself together, dude!"

so...yeah, another one. there's a few more after this: Gem & fWhip, Lizzie & Jimmy, Joel & Pixl. and then, I'll make a master post linking them all together for better reference finding whatchamacallits. I'm trying to do one a day until they're finished but I'm started to get a bit burnt-out [still not completely over being sick no matter how much medicine I take or how much sleep I get, which honestly, is not a lot of sleep - damn insomnia, dudes, it sucks, do not recommend 0/10]

anyway! Katherine and Pearl below the line thingy!

Katherine

Katherine is a faery born at least a couple centuries after Scott and nearly a century before the other rulers. she is daughter of the Flower Queen and princess of the Flower Fields.

she was raised on stories of benevolent Watches and loyal Guardians who protected the Fields with all the might of a thousand warriors

she loved sheep with a passion and would often be found laying in a pile of them. the sheep she played with often escaped their pens and could always be found following the princess around

life was fairly easy in the Flower Fields, hardly any scuffles or problems. she did learn how to fight from some of the guards, and also from the children of other rulers - the Ocean Empire had some fierce warriors that were always eager to teach anyone that was willing to learn

when she was in her teens (fairy years), the Queen began to wither and soon passed on to become a watcher herself - such is the fate of Queens. she became Queen shortly after and wore the crown with pride.

one of her first acts as Queen was to establish alliances with neighboring kingdoms, one such being that of the elves - the elf kingdom was fairly isolated from the other empires.

she wrote letters to Elfking Scott and visited often enough that his people knew her by the sound of her wings when she flew overhead. being of magic, she knew that the elf was lonely and needed proper companionship - even if he didn't know it himself.

so, she treated Scott well and as if they'd known each other for years. her good excitable fun nature eventually wore him down until he was able to be his true self around her - a boy who could laugh and joke and goof off without being judged by his subjects

the two became really good friends who could share their secrets with one another or share the heavy burden that is ruling their kingdoms

about a century later she met some of the other rulers, but not at once, usually within a few years of each other. the first she met was: Guardian of the Harvest - Pearl of Smallholding, and Prophet of Death - Pixlriffs of Pixandria. the next she met was: the dragonlings - Wizard Gem of the Crystal Cliffs and her brother Count fWhip of a new kingdom called the Grimlands, and the dwarf King - Sausage of Mythland who was best friends with the dragonlings. after that was: the merfolk - Queen Lizzie of the Ocean Empire and her younger brother Codfather Jimmy of the newly built Cod Empire, and King Joel of Mezalea who was married to Lizzie - she also suspects that he is either a God or a demigod of Life.

there were some conflicts every now and again over a few years - mostly involving the Codfather and the chaotic duo of Count fWhip and King Sausage, but she tried to stay on the sidelines, offering peace to everyone.

sometime within her life, whether it was before she was crowned or after - she's really not sure, it was such a long time ago - she began to collect the heads of various mobs and turning them into decorations. while her people were at first wary of this new hobby, they have long accepted it as just another quirky part of their Queen.

Pearl

Pearl was not born in the traditional sense like many of the others - she was originally a scarecrow who was given Life.

there was a farmer in Smallholding, just a little hamlet with only a few houses and farms, that had problems with birds terrorizing their crops. so, the farmer built a scarecrow - 6 foot tall, made of cloth and straw, and given a pearl on a string that was handed down from their grandparent. they gave it the pearl because it felt like something they were meant to do.

the birds were practically repelled, saving the farmer's crops, so they started giving tribute to it - nothing sinister, obviously, maybe a hat here or some flowers there, simple things to show their gratitude. the others in the hamlet questioned the farmer cause, hey, you're treating this scarecrow like it's a person or something, that's weird. farmer, of course, doesn't care, their crops are spared from birds and that's all that matters.

the scarecrow watched over the fields, gathering magic from every small tribute and from the love the farmer showed it, and began to wish for the power to return the favors, to show the farmer how grateful it was to be here. its yearning must've been heard because not long after, a being appeared to them, a God.

the God and the scarecrow talked for some time and at the end of the conversation, the God breathed Life into the scarecrow - what once was cloth and straw became flesh and bone and blood.

the farmer found her at dawn and offered her a place in their home for the services she has provided since her making. they also gave her the name Pearl because she was precious to them. they lived together for years after, until the farmer grew old and passed, and she continued living there.

the hamlet grew into a small village over that time as the people saw the land was prosperous. when the hamlet grew, the God of Life visited her again and they had a second conversation, one that ended with the God of Life granting her the title "Guardian of the Harvest". she swore her life to the land, to the people who's crops she had protected over the years.

the people dubbed her "Queen of Smallholding" after some time, seeing her fit for the title. they continued to prosper under her watchful gaze.

some time after that, maybe a few years or more, Pearl met her first rulers - Queen Katherine of House Blossom of the Flower Fields and Dwarf King, Mythical J Sausage of Mythland who's kingdom was surprisingly very close to her settlement. and through them, she met the other rulers - Elfking Scott, the Copper King Pixlriffs, Wizard Gem and Count fWhip, Queen Lizzie and the Codfather Jimmy, King Joel, and King Joey.

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? IV // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: 1997 and 1998 are big years for Luke Patterson and his fiancée with their engagement and wedding planning. If you thought wedding planning and the wedding itself was the big things well, you’d be wrong. I mean this is the couple that almost ended with a car accident. Join the year long adventure.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, minor angst, sweet groom!Luke, and fluff

Words: 3.3k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. There is one more part after this. 🥺😭

A/N: It’s finally here! The Patterson-Y/L/N wedding makes its appearance here and a little cameo of a future character. The next part is the last part in the miniseries as well. Enjoy.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hollywood 1997

An entire year had flown by from the day of your engagement to Luke filled with frustration, elation and greatness. Sunset Curve toured around California, leaving the Y/L/N-Patterson women to plan the wedding. Nineteen years old now in the modestly sized apartment, Luke sat beside you in the bathroom.

Two nervous teenagers a mere month away from their wedding day they cuddled each other eyes pinned at the floor. Apprehensive of the stick that held power to change everything in their lives. For the last week, you hadn’t felt very well with being tired and nausea laying you out in bed.

“It’s been long enough.” Luke murmured reaching for the test, “No matter what. I love you.”

Kissing his cheek, the two of you slumped at the negative with surprising emotion. The negative greatly disappointed you.

“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbled to his fiancée equally torn up because while the timing wasn’t perfect, he had pictured what life would be like.

A tiny baby growing in his fiancée womb, growing into bump made flutters in his belly. Of love, he already felt for your future unborn children and snuggling his kids. Introducing them to his loved ones and bonding over music. Teaching his son or daughter how to play the guitar.

He’d love to see his parents cradle a new addition to the family freshly born with the tiny knit hat Emily couldn’t resist making. Sharing a celebratory beer with his father and wisdom for the coming years. To learn the parental reason of why they had been against his career choice.

“I really wanted it to be positive.” You admitted playing with your fingers disappointed at being wrong about your body. Luke smiled as your words as he grabbed your hand in his calloused grip.

“Do you…do you want to try for a baby?” Luke trailed off flushing at how beautiful you would look growing his child. The bathroom was quiet as you thought the idea over, “With the tour just finishing the band will be writing music and recording. I could be here for the whole pregnancy and birth.”

“If we get pregnant in the next month. But we’re also getting married in a few months.” You sighed leaning to rest about his bare arm staring at the pregnancy test.

“If it happens then it happens.” Luke spoke, “If you want, we can try.”

Raising your eyes to meet Luke’s you hesitantly nodded at his words as it settled that is there ever a perfect time to get pregnant? So many people struggle with conception like your parents did with you; your mother’s labour was so complicated that you’d never have siblings.

“Okay.” Luke breathed, standing up to scoop you into his arms, “Best get on with it.”

The laughter filled the simple bedroom as Luke crawled over your body to hover with a matching smile. There was no one else in the world that could get his heart fluttering and focus on something other than music. It was terrific, and he couldn’t be mad about.

“So, Rockstar…are you gonna help?” You whispered tugging on the chain of his necklace to drag his face closer. Closing the distance, Luke’s lips brushed yours before time stopped in a collision of senses.

The callouses of his fingers trailing a fire under the flowing shirt chosen for the lunch date earlier. The warmth of his hands nowhere close enough to match the heat your body burnt with. The taste of the cherry chapstick he shamelessly stole from you, but it was the heady scent of Luke that got you.

 Luke heavily breathed as he pulled back with a hazy gaze with the green almost overtaken by the black pupils. No hesitation as your lips sucked on his neck, bringing a gravelly moan from the man over you, a sound that caused your lower half to clench. Legs unable to fully close as his fingers drew symbols on your inner thigh.

Symbols that spelt out his full name. Now that was really hot.

A gasp pulled from your throat you arched as a hand came up to cup your breast in his hand; Luke could argue all he wanted, but he was boob man when it came to you.

Thoughts disappearing the ecstasy with the love of your life overtook your senses.

July 1998

The white dress was a little snugger than the previous month, but you had a good reason for it. A tiny little blob had taken up residence in your womb with a sickness that lasts all day from day one until the start of trimester two. Getting pregnant had to be easy with Luke from the number of times.

Didn’t matter where you were when Luke tugged you away. The small bathroom in the studio? Three times.

Luke’s couch? Yeah, Alex refuses to sit there now.

At this point, you had been everywhere, trying for a baby was incredibly fun, but the hormones sucked. Luke’s deft fingers creating the chords of a song? Bobby banned you from rehearsals, and you had an emergency bag of clothes as well.

“You look gorgeous.” Nancy Y/L/N told her daughter with tears glittering in her eyes as she took in the sight of her daughter. The wedding dress the bridesmaids, mother’s and Alex had hunted for; the boy had tagged along as he was like a brother. Reggie, Bobby and Luke had spent the day with Mitch and Lance.

A sob broke from the lips of Lance; his baby girl no longer needed him with her soon to be husband. There was no one in the world he trusted more with his daughter than Luke Patterson. The boy never placed the band ahead of his fiancée, and it was quickly noticed how much Luke adored the Y/L/N girl.

“Dad.” You spoke, rushing to hug the man in your arms, “Stop crying. You’ll make me cry.”

Lance was able to hold his tears until the music started and the doors opened to the venue that Luke’s parents married in. Luke stood at the altar with Bobby, Alex, and Reggie. On the opposite side stood your best friend, a childhood friend and your close cousin.

“You look beautiful,” Dad told you slowly making their way to the man cupping his hands over his face. Overtaken by your beauty and the glow, Luke thanked Lance.

“Baby, you look like an Angel,” Luke whispered, squeezing your hands tightly in his as the ceremony began.

“It’s rare that one can find their soulmate, the other half of themselves on such a large plant. Luke and Y/N orbited each other as young children and fell in love in a perfect place. For those of you who don’t know, these two met as a concert. The first step to falling in love. Music is important to this couple.” The officiant spoke, “Luke’s mother told me once that music tethered their souls together, they truly met at a concert, and every important moment had a song.”

Luke’s eyes watered meeting the brown of his mother’s love-filled eyes holding hands with her husband. Luke had no clue how much his mother came to accept, and he felt the relationship fully fix itself as it settled that his Mom had personally made the ceremony better.

 “These two souls came together and became one. Luke and Y/N’s love is rare and beautiful. Today these two had decided to make their own vows.” The officiant finished, “Luke if you could start.”

“There has always music in my heart and soul since childhood. I adored listening and begging my parents for new music. My parents, one year, gave me a guitar as a gift, and it started a deep passion in my soul. I made a band with my best friends, and the band brought me to a person that would become more important. Y/N, I had had a crush on you for a long time before you first spoke to me. I had hit Reggie in the calf with my father’s car, and you made a joke about my height. It wouldn’t be until years later than I somehow convinced you to take a chance.” Luke squeezed your hands, “I love music because it brought me to you.”

“Luke. I am absolutely positive that I have loved you for more than this lifetime as my love is so vast and deep. I believe we have been destined since the dawn of time to find each other together by music. I can’t compete with your vows because you have a way with words with the songwriting you’ve done. You’ve been there through the hard times and best times holding my hand ready to catch me if I fell. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives catching each other when we need it.”

“May the rings be presented?” The officiant asked with a smile as your best friend and Alex gave the rings.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Luke whispered as he slid the band to rest against your engagement ring. You repeated the words as you slid the band on his finger as well.

“I now pronounce you as man and wife. Mr. Patterson, you may kiss your wife.” The officiant spoke, sending the room into applause.

You and Luke ran down the aisle still holding hands with the biggest smiles of your entire life to the limo that would deliver you to the reception. Luke couldn’t help himself as he pressed kisses all over. This was a glorious day for the musician, his career was going really well, and he married the most beautiful girl.

“God, I love you.” Luke murmured to the girl in the white dress. Leaning closer for another kiss, Luke froze.

Digging into his ankle was a heavy object. Your nervous eyes glittered under the dimmed lighting in the limo. Never-ending eye contact Luke lifted a moderately heavy wooden chalkboard. Written on the sign was: ‘Unofficial flower girl or ring bearer’.

“Are you serious?” Luke asked gobsmacked at the news that heightened the greatness of his wedding day. Eyes flickering to meet yours he watched as your hand unzipped a hidden pocket on your dress.

Flat on your hand was a pregnancy test similar to the one you took months back. The only difference being this one had two lines.

“AS serious as a heart attack. There will be a baby Patterson in six months.” The laugh was joyful as your lips parted.

Luke wasted absolutely no time in setting his hand on the slight bump the dress had covered, “This is why you mentioned your dress being snugger?”

“Mhm.” You replied, stroking the softness of his cheekbone in pure love with him and the life you carried, “We’re in for a wild ride Patterson.”

“Bring it on.” Luke finished kissing your cheek as the limo came to a stop in front of a large venue. The duo you ran inside where your wedding guests threw paper airplanes that Reggie had suggested.

Each airplane had a personal note from your friends and family along that would be gathered into a binder. Reggie had found out that rice wasn’t good for birds and while the reception was inside, he couldn’t do it. So, he brought the idea of paper airplanes; in class, the boys would throw airplanes at each other. It was a nod to their adolescence.

“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson,” Alex announced into the microphone set on the stage with Sunset Curve’s instruments. It didn’t surprise anyone that the band would play at the wedding.

On the stage, a beautiful Hispanic woman played a soft piano ballad, if you could recall that maybe the bartender from the Orpheum. Her name was on the tip of your tongue as Luke twirled you into his arms with a big grin.

“Mrs. Patterson.” You hummed tugging him to the head table with where your wedding party would join as well. The second Luke helped you sit he knelt down to reach the box covertly placed.

Your eyebrows came together as he opened it, revealing two matching pairs of personalized vans; following the wedding theme one pair was white and another black. On the right shoe, it had ‘just married’ with the wedding date while the left shoe had a picture from your engagement pictures. Of course, Luke made them have Mr. and Mrs. above the image as well.

“How?” You breathed as Luke gently removed your heels to replace them with a thin pair of no-show socks. Over the socks went the white vans that gave your feet a break from the four-inch heels.

“We’re supposed to party now.” Luke beamed squeezing your hands in his only bending to kiss the back of each. His hazel eyes had shifted to a rich green as he stared up at yours with such a tender look, you could feel the heat building in your cheeks.

As your wedding party took their seats, Luke had already changed his shoes and pushed the box back under the table. His left hand refused to leave your right one as you both took in the magical room that had once only been a concept on paper.

“This is amazing.” You breathed leaning into Luke’s arm, sending a smile to the table near the front with both your parents, “Also thank you for the shoe surprise.”

 “I am so happy they got done on time.” Luke sighed slouching in his seat, waving at the photographer you had hired.

If you can recall correctly, Luke had met him at a band photoshoot, and he was the assistant to the head photographer. You believe his name was Ray and incredibly talented and under-appreciated by his former boss.

“Did you let the photographer know we have an open bar?” You leaned over to your new husband with a flutter in your belly at his new title. The question turned the corners of Luke’s mouth for the first time that day.

“I find it unfair that we have an open bar and we can’t drink anything.” Luke snorted nudging Reggie in his side.

“Oh, I think we both know you’ll sneak some for the guys and you.” You chuckled leaning back in the chair. One hand resting on your stomach to caress the material with your thumb, unaware, “I’ll stick to the sparkling juice.”

Luke’s one eyebrow raised at the sudden change in your drink choice as in the past you wouldn’t turn down your favourite. His eyes shifted down to your hand with raised eyebrows.

“Wait…are you…?” Luke drawled out slowly in your ear taken aback when your head in a surreptitious manner. His jaw unhinged mind opened as he took in the tiny bump; in the years together, he was very acquainted with your body.

“We are. How cliché are we?” You laughed as Luke lunged to press a kiss to the supple skin lightly painted with foundation.

Your makeup was natural and straightforward to last longer for photos and make it through the dances for later. It was also Luke’s favourite look.

Dinner, the dances and speeches had sped by ending with both the bouquet toss and the garter toss. The guests mingled with the newlyweds as some danced, Emily had managed to drag Luke back on the floor.

“I’m proud of you, Luke.” Emily smiled up at her son, “And you said those dance lessons were a waste of time.”

A light pink flush took over the nineteen-year old’s full cheeks reminiscing the lessons he had taken with his mother. He had been eleven or twelve at the time when his father pulled a muscle at the worst time. The coupons nearly expiration Emily took Luke to the lessons that initially had been for date night.

“I think it helped with singing-“Luke instinctively cut himself off as he had done years before when music was a no go subject, “Sorry you don-“

“Luke, I can never explain how sorry I am about what happened. I was wrong to push you into a box you didn’t fit. Music is a part of you, and I understand now.” Emily squeezed the bicep of the guitarist, “Besides you’ll understand where we were coming from in a couple months.”

Luke’s jaw dropped at her announcement, “What.”

“Luke, I am a mother. I know the signs such as your wife turning down the wine.” Emily admitted stepping back from the boy that had so suddenly become a man before her very eyes.

No longer was he the chubby-cheeked boy running naked from his bath after splattering spaghetti sauce on himself. He had outgrown his interest in soccer and baseball with his little friends. He had matured into a man that lived up to Emily’s teachings. Luke, in her eyes, was now a man of honour, integrity, kindness and stood up for himself.

Emily and Mitch Patterson had done a fantastic job raising their son, but now they could step back. They would get to watch Luke find his way as a husband and a father.

“Hey, man,” Reggie spoke as Luke walked off the dance floor finding you among family congratulating the couple.

“Hey, Reg.” Luke beamed tugging the bassist into his arms for a tight hug. As the two boys leaned back, they looked over at their friend.

Alex discarded the pink suit jacket at the table in favour of leaning against the wall talking with the bartender. A smile blossomed on the two men’s faces as they took in that Alex was utterly relaxed in the conversation.

“They were hardcore flirting.” Reggie piped up, referencing the male bartender, “His name is Billy, I think.”

The bartender had shoulder-length dark hair pulled back in a bun with glittering brown eyes drowning in the shy blonde. He wore a dark shirt opened a few buttons with white detailing on it. A white necklace as well, but it was the lovesick smile Luke loved; Alex deserved happiness the most in Sunset Curve.

“He’s totally a skater.” Reggie spoke, “It’s a love story. He’s a skater boy, and he’d like to do ballet.”

“That would be a sick song. He was a punk, she did ballet.” Luke hummed to a melody created on the spot, “Not really our sound.”

“Someone will figure out a way to use it.” Reggie waved off, and he was right. A singer would use the exact lyric in her song ‘Sk8er Boi’ in 2002 when Sunset Curve would bump into her.

Slowly the boys of Sunset Curve found their way to the stage to perform a few songs directed towards you. At your urging, you had demanded they give a live performance of Unsaid Emily for your now mother-in-law. As they sang, you wrapped an arm, Emily, as she cried.

“This is his best work.” You mumbled to the older woman cupping her wet cheek leaning into the touch of her husband’s touch.

As soon as the song was over, Emily yanked her son into her arms both parties of the hug emotionally moved. It seemed the performance had shifted something in their relationship for the better. Luke didn’t need to explain as he pulled you into his side once more.

 “Alex isn’t the only one that found someone.” You whispered, finding Alex and the bartender on break dancing on the edge of the dance floor. At your husband’s puzzlement, your finger pointed in the direction of the stage.

In a conversation photographer, Ray captivated the lead singer of the band you had hired when Sunset Curve didn’t play. Even Reggie seemed to have the attention of your twin showgirl cousins from Las Vegas.

“Love attracts love.” Luke simply spoke, wrapping his built arms around his wife, thinking back on the changes that had happened.

Luke hitting Reggie’s leg with the car at thirteen, finding each other at the concert a few years later, the accident that threatened the relationship. Proposing twice and finally marrying over a year later on the same day you confessed the pregnancy. So much had happened in such a fraction of time.

“I love you.” Luke murmured at the shell of your ear watching his friends have the time of their lives on a beautiful day in the summer of 1998.

Above are the example of the shoes that Luke got.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @parkeret @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds @kcd15​ @siriuswvrld​ @princessvader15​ @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle​ @joshy-obx​ @lovesanimals​ @oopsiedoopsie23​ @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you​ @jaskiers-sweetkiss​ @lostrandomfangirl​n @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @jatp-holland​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland​ @dasexydevitt13​ @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​ @ssprayberrythings​​ @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @zukoshonourr​ @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch​ @kcd15​ @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl​ @all-in-fangirl​ @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown​

[thelastspeecher]

Egg Stan Origins

In my notes earlier today, I saw that someone had liked one of my Egg Stan ficlets, and I decided to reread said ficlet.  And then before I knew it, I was writing stuff for the Egg Stan AU, because I can’t control myself.  So here, have...whatever this is.

——————————————————————————————

              Ford slowly drifted back to wakefulness.  As he opened his eyes, a fish darted across his field of vision.

              Shit!  I’m underwater!  Panicking, Ford began to swim for the surface, before realizing that he wasn’t drowning.  He let himself sink back to the ocean floor.  Why can I breathe underwater?  He held out his hands to inspect them.  His mouth went dry.  Thin, red webbing stretched between his twelve fingers.  He looked down at his legs.  Or rather, where his legs used to be.  In their place was a large, extravagant tail with golden scales and red fins.

              “Fuck,” he whispered.  He ran a hand through his hair.

              I’m- I’m a merman?  How did that happen?  He racked his brain, desperate for answers.  The creature!  The last thing he remembered was being on the ship, with a massive sea serpent bearing down upon them.  When the serpent opened its mouth to spray venom at him, Stan had jumped in front of him to act as a shield.  Stanley!

              “Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Ford muttered, frantically looking around for his twin.  There weren’t any other mermen in the vicinity.

              Maybe he avoided this fate?  Doubtful.  Ford’s eyes landed on what looked like a large fish egg, partially buried in the sand. He swam over, rendered clumsy by his new tail, and gently lifted the egg from the sand.  The egg was red but transparent, allowing him to see the very young mer curled up within.  Is this- is this Stan?

              “No.  That’s not possible.”  Ford spoke aloud in an attempt to convince himself.  The mer in the egg suddenly twisted around, revealing its face.  Ford’s heart plummeted.  The mer had a face he recognized well.  No one outside their family had that large, ruddy nose.  “Stanley…”  Ford held the egg close to his chest, panic rising.

              Stan’s been turned into a mer child still in utero. I’m fully grown, but a merman. What am I supposed to do? Suddenly, his ears picked up the sound of voices in the distance.  He swallowed nervously.  I’m not one to typically ask for help, but I don’t really have a choice, do I? Ford swam towards the voices.  As he got closer, he saw the source – a young merman and mermaid, probably related, judging by their similar features.

              “Excuse me,” Ford called.  The merman and mermaid changed course, swimming over to him.  “I- I need some help.”

              “Why aren’t ya speakin’ Mermish?” the merman asked in thickly accented English.  His tail was a burnt orange, contrasting with his dark hair.

              “I wasn’t aware that merfolk had their own language,” Ford said.  The merman and mermaid looked doubtfully at each other.  “I- I’m human, you see, and-”

              “Uh, if you were a former human, you’d have a belly button,” said the merman, sounding suspicious.  Ford looked down.  His jaw dropped.

              “What the-”  He stared at the completely smooth skin where his belly button had previously been located.  “I don’t- I don’t know how that happened.”

              “Who’s this lil feller?” the mermaid cooed, peering at the egg Stan was in.  Her accent was just as thick as the merman’s.  She and the merman had the same large nose, but her hair was caramel-colored, matching her pale yellow tail.

              “My twin brother.  What happened to make me like this, it- somehow it affected him more severely and-”

              “What’s a twin?” the merman asked.

              “A sibling born at the same time as you.”

              “Yer claimin’ this cutie is from the same clutch you hatched from?” the mermaid asked.

              “Yes?  No? Look, I don’t understand your mer terminology, I’m human!” Ford burst out.  The merman and mermaid exchanged a concerned look.

              “It’s okay,” the mermaid said soothingly.  She held out her hands.  “I can take yer brother so’s ya can swim better.”

              “No!”  Ford held Stan’s egg even tighter.  Stan swirled around in the egg.  Alarm flashed in the mermaid’s eyes.

              “Okay, okay,” she said.  “I won’t take ‘im.  But I think that it might be best if ya come with us to our house, at least fer the night. It’ll get dark soon.  The guppy eels come out when the light fades.”

              “G-guppy eels?” Ford stammered.

              “They eat eggs ‘n guppies,” the merman said. Ford’s heart leapt into his throat. “Are ya goin’ to come with us, stranger?”  Ford swallowed.

              “I don’t really have any other choice,” he mumbled.  The merman patted him on the back.

              “That’s the spirit.  Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of room fer the both of ya.”

-----

              By the time Ford and the merfolk arrived at their destination, a large underwater cliff face, he was exhausted.  Not just physically, though the swim had been more taxing than he expected.  He was also mentally weary from the immense amount of information he’d learned from the merfolk.  Apparently, humans did turn into mers on rare occasions, but when they did, they kept their belly buttons.  In addition, mer eggs were laid in massive clutches and kept in something called a “guppy basket”.  His hosts had assured him that they had a guppy basket where Stan could go.

              But he’s not leaving my sight.  The merman, whose name was Lute, looked at Ford with some amusement.

              “Yer a bit out of shape, ain’t ya?” he asked. The mermaid, who was named Angie, punched him.

              “Be nice,” she chided.  Ford’s initial assessment of the two being related was correct; they were siblings.

              Not just siblings.  Clutch-mates.  From what Lute and Angie had told him, clutch-mate seemed to be the closest mer analog to a twin.  Clutch-mates were siblings that hatched from the same clutch of eggs, though they sometimes hatched days apart.  

              “I’ll go alert the folks we’ve got a guest,” Lute said.  He opened a door into the cliff that Ford hadn’t seen and ducked inside.  Ford looked askance at Angie.

              “It’s an optical illusion thing,” she said with a shrug.  “Unless ya know where the entrance is, ya can’t find it.”  Of the two siblings, she seemed the kinder and gentler, taking what Ford said at face value.  Unlike her brother.

              Though she could just be humoring me.  I’m fairly certain they think I’m having some sort of nervous breakdown.  Angie smiled at Ford, then opened the door.  I’ll take humoring me over mocking me.

              “C’mon on in,” she said.  Ford reluctantly swam inside.  He was in a pleasantly homey living room that, if it weren’t underwater, could be mistaken for belonging to a human family.  Potted plants lazily swayed from small currents.  A middle-aged merman and mermaid sat on a couch, speaking with Lute.

              Presumably, these are Angie and Lute’s parents. One of the many things he’d been told during the swim was that merfolk lived with their parents until they had a mate, after which they would find their own place to live.  As unmated merfolk, Angie and Lute had yet to move out. Lute was a carbon copy of his father, with the exception of his tail color; his father’s tail was blue.  Angie looked exactly like her mother, down to her tail color, but had her father’s large nose.

              “This must be the poor young man you found,” said their mother, catching sight of Ford.  She got up from the couch and swam over to him.  “Hmm…”  She looked him up and down.  “What’s your name, son?”

              “S-Stanford Pines.”

              “That’s not a mer surname,” the mother commented idly, still looking at Ford with a thoughtful gaze.  “But it is a human one.”  She smiled. “Let me introduce myself.  My name is Sally MerGucket, but if ya like, ya can call me Mrs. MerGucket.”

              “Mrs. MerGucket,” Ford mumbled.  Mrs. MerGucket nodded.

              “My mate Mearl is on the couch.”  Mr. MerGucket smiled warmly at Ford.  “It looks like you could use a guppy basket fer that egg.”

              “No, he’s going to stay with me,” Ford said firmly.

              “Of course he will,” Mrs. MerGucket said, sounding surprised.  “The basket will go in the same room ya sleep in.”

              “…Oh.”

              “Come with me, dear.  I’ll show you to yer room fer the night.”  Mrs. MerGucket took Ford’s hand and led him out of the living room, down a hall, and into what was clearly a guest bedroom of sorts.  Under normal circumstances, Ford would ask a million questions about the furniture in the room, particularly the bed, with a frame made of what appeared to be living coral.

              I don’t feel much like asking questions right now, though.  Ford looked down at Stan’s egg.  Through the membrane, he could see Stan sucking his thumb.  Mom always hated when he did that.

              “Stanford.”  Ford looked up.  Mrs. MerGucket sat on the edge of the bed.  She patted the bed.  “Sit with me.”  Reluctantly, Ford swam over and sat next to her.  “May I?”  Mrs. MerGucket held out her hands.  Ford shook his head, keeping Stan close.  “That’s quite all right.”

              “You don’t believe me, do you?” Ford asked quietly. “That I used to be human.  Your children certainly don’t.”

              “Yes, they’re convinced that ya hit yer head,” Mrs. MerGucket said.  “They were worried fer yer health, as well as the health of the egg, since a confused guardian ain’t a safe one.”

              “You’re dodging the question.”

              “I didn’t mean to.”  Mrs. MerGucket sighed.  “Stanford, I believe ya.”  Ford’s head whipped up.  He stared at her.  “I suspect my children would, too, if they weren’t used to human behaviors.”  Ford frowned.

              “What do you mean?” he asked.  Mrs. MerGucket gestured to her torso.  Ford’s eyes widened.  Unlike her mate and children, Mrs. MerGucket had a belly button.  “You’re…”

              “Yes.  I used to be human.  Since I helped to raise my children, they don’t realize yer behaviors ‘n tendencies ‘re human through ‘n through.  But I’ve spent enough time among merfolk to tell ya used to be human, too.”  Mrs. MerGucket looked at Ford thoughtfully.  “Well.  Either that, or ya were raised by humans.  But I suspect you’d be a tad more traumatized, were that the case.”

              “I’m feeling fairly traumatized at the moment,” Ford mumbled.  Mrs. MerGucket put her hand on his shoulder.

              “Son, you can stay here as long as ya like, okay?”

              “I just want things to be the way they were yesterday,” Ford whispered.

              “I understand.  Unfortunately, I ain’t sure whether there’s a way to do that.  But we’ll do our best to help.  Once we hear yer story from ya, rather than from Lute, we’ll have a better idea of what happened to ya.  But that can wait until you’ve had some rest.  You ‘n that lil egg have been through a lot today.”

              “Yes,” Ford said, his voice breaking.  “We have.”

              “I’ll bring ya the guppy basket to put the egg in, okay?  And once that’s done, ya can get some sleep.”  Ford nodded woodenly.  Mrs. MerGucket left the room.

              “Stanley,” Ford whispered helplessly to the egg that had been his brother.  “What- what are we going to do?”  Stan offered no answers, merely curling up tightly within his egg.

-----

              Stan’s egg rocked back and forth within the guppy basket.

              “Be patient,” Ford chided as he combed his hair. He’d learned the hard way that if he didn’t comb regularly, small crustaceans would take up residence in his thick curls.  After spending a few months with the MerGuckets, he felt more or less settled as a merman.

              At the very least, I feel less like a fish out of water.  Ford managed a small smile at the almost pun.  Every day, he learned more about merfolk and mer society from the MerGuckets.  They had yet to determine what sea creature had transformed him and Stan, however, and as a result, were no closer to reversing the process.  I suspect Mrs. MerGucket was right.  What happened to us can’t be remedied.  His good mood evaporated.  Stanley and I are stuck.  Said stuck egg abruptly rolled in the basket.

              “I told you to calm down,” Ford said, swimming over.  He wasn’t sure how much Stan was aware of in the egg, nor how much he would recall when hatched, but couldn’t shake the habit of talking to the egg like nothing had changed.  Like Stan was still his stubborn, adult self.  “I’ll put you in the sling in a moment.”  The egg rolled again.  “Fine!” Ford grabbed the egg sling off his dresser and put it on.  While it was impossible to carry an entire clutch in an egg sling, merfolk used them to keep close eggs they were concerned about.

              Luckily, I only have one egg, so transporting the full clutch isn’t an issue.  Ford froze. No.  Did I just- did I just think of Stan as being my child?

              “Everything all right in here?” a voice asked.  Ford looked over his shoulder.  Fiddleford treaded water in the doorway, smiling at him. A few days after Ford came to the MerGucket home, Fiddleford, Angie and Lute’s older brother, had returned home from an internship.  Very quickly, Fiddleford had become Ford’s favorite of the MerGucket children. Angie was kind and quite brilliant, but rambunctious in a way that reminded Ford of Stan and was thus painful to be around for long.  Lute was abrasive and curt, and still didn’t seem convinced Ford was telling the truth.

              Fiddleford, however, was gentle and warm, with an intellect to rival Ford’s.  The fact that Fiddleford was obsessed with human culture, and thus fascinated by Ford’s stories, only served to deepen their connection.

              “Yes, everything’s quite all right,” Ford said. He carefully placed Stan’s egg in the sling.  “Stan’s just being difficult this morning.”  Fiddleford swam over, frowning.

              “He’s just an egg.  How could he be difficult?”

              “Oh, he’s been moving around a lot.”

              “He…”  Fiddleford’s eyes widened.  “How long has this been goin’ on?”

              “A couple of days.  Why?”

              “Stanford, eggs start movin’ when they’re gettin’ ready to hatch,” Fiddleford said gently.  Ford’s mouth dropped open.  “I reckon ya might want to put the egg back in the basket.”  Numb, Ford did as he was told, removing Stan’s egg from the sling and gently setting it inside the guppy basket.  The egg began to rock and roll in earnest.  Finally, a tiny hand punched through the egg’s membrane.

              “He’s…” Ford whispered.  His voice failed him as he watched a newborn mer crawl through the hole.  “He’s…”

              “Quite the looker,” Fiddleford said quietly. The newborn mer, with fins and scales a drab green color, scrunched up his face and began to cry.

              “What- what do I-” Ford asked desperately. Fiddleford scooped up the newborn mer and gently placed him in the egg sling Ford still wore.

              “Newborn guppies like to be held,” Fiddleford said.

              Right.  Mer children are referred to as guppies.  And they don’t get their mature scale and fin colors until adolescence.  Ford stared down at the guppy curled up in the sling.  He was the spitting image of old family pictures of Stan.  Which makes sense, given that he is Stan.  Ford hesitantly stroked the guppy’s cheek. The guppy leaned into the movement with a soft crooning sound.  …Is he?

              “Is somethin’ wrong?” Fiddleford asked hesitantly.

              “I…”  Ford swam over to his bed and sat down.  Fiddleford followed, sitting next to him.  “I think that some part of me expected the Stan I knew to hatch from the egg. That he would be himself, with all his memories and quirks, but…a child.”  His voice began to quiver.  “That obviously isn’t the case.  He’s my brother, but not- not really.  Despite my best attempts, I’ve lost him.”

              “Don’t think of it that way,” Fiddleford said. He placed his hand on Ford’s shoulder. “Think of it as him gettin’ a fresh start.  Ya told me how yer pa wasn’t kind.”

              ��No, he wasn’t.”

              “Well then, this is a chance fer him to get the kind of father he didn’t get the first time,” Fiddleford said gently. Ford swallowed.

              “…Yes.  I- I suppose you’re right.”  He removed the guppy from the sling to nestle in his arms.  The guppy looked up at him with curious brown eyes.  Ford carefully removed stray bits of egg from the guppy’s thick, brown curls.  “Hello.” The guppy cocked his head, interested. Ford held him close.  “It’s good-” he started.  His voice gave out.  He took a deep breath and tried again.  “It’s good to see you again, Stanley.”

[errorpeachy]

Another one would be 1. from the New Year's with Chrollo because I swear, my heart would stop if he'd say that 😭💕 Please and thank you! 🙇😘

Sure you can babes! Enjoy! ~🍑💞

Pairing: Chrollo x gn! reader

Tags: @dukinaxael @crispycrimebrulee @teel-dinosaur @chrry-dinosaur @kenmakozumeswifey @gloom-imagines @juiceboxesheadcanons @to-move-on-means-to-grow @mxuzu @chxcolxtemilk

Prompt(s): #1 for New Years bonus, “My New Years resolution is for you to be mine.”

Tw: none!

A chill nipped at your skin as you walked through the streets of your town. Snow fell as children ran around, snowballs flying at their friends as joyful laughter filled your ears. Smiling softly, you hugged your coat tighter to your body as you walked to where you needed to go. You were going to meet up with your childhood friend for some drinks to celebrate the New Year. Chrollo wasn’t really one for traditions, but being the leader of something such as the Phantom Troupe really didn’t give him much free time, so he took advantage of whatever moments he could get with you. The plan was to go up to the roof, watch the fireworks, drink, and have a good time. You were excited to see him, as it had been around two months since he last dropped by. It made you uneasy, since you two had been attatched at the hip as children and being in his line of work, him not visiting you at least once a month made you worry.

Humming, you walked up the stairs of your apartment complex and unlocked the door, sighing as you set your keys on the counter. You shivered and closed the door, turning around and yelping as your eyes landed on a certain raven-haired male. “Chrollo! Stop doing that, you ass!” You said, relaxing as he flashed you a smile. “I find it funny, though.” He said, causing you to roll your eyes. “You never change.” You muttered, making your way to the couch and sitting down next to him. A soft chuckle bubbled up in his chest, and you laughed along with him. Getting back up and making your way to the kitchen, you dug around in your fridge and tossed him a beer. He caught it and opened it up before taking a sip and scrunching his nose.

“I don’t understand how you drink this, Y/N...” he muttered, causing you to laugh. “Right, I forgot you hate that. I have wine in the upper right cabinet.” You said, sitting back down. He shrugged and took off his coat, fixing his shirt and leaning back. You stared at him a little before looking down. “Hey, Chrollo?” You asked. He raised a brow at you. “What is it?” He questioned. You inhaled. “Do you remember our time in Meteor City? When we were little?” You asked softly. He cringed a little, tending up. “I wish I didn’t, but yes. I do.” He said. You shook your head. “No, not the bad times, the good times. Like when we stole bread from that one merchant.” You said. He laughed, his eyes scrunching up at the memory. “I do! He was so mad, it was hilarious. And you were so scared to get caught. I felt like I was on top of the world.” He said, looking at you as you huffed. “I was like 15! Of course I was scared!” You said, making him laugh harder. Your heart warmed at the sight. It seemed that at this point in his life, you were the only one able to draw that sound out of him.

He wiped his eyes, sighing as little giggles continued to escape his mouth. “We should head up to the roof. The new year will start soon.” He said, getting up as you followed him. You exited the apartment and climbed the stairs up to the roof, smiling at the view. You watched as he took a seat in his usual spot on the floor, sitting right next to him. You sighed, staring at the twinkling night sky. The breeze wafted his smell of burnt books and cologne towards you, and you appreciated the comfort it brought you.

“Chrollo?” You asked. He looked at you, tilting his head. You bit your lip, avoiding his eyes. “Why did you create the Phantom Troupe?” You asked. It had been a question eating away at you for a long time. You constantly worried for your friend, and you were so scared he was going to turn up dead one day. The reality of how badly it would destroy you hit when they had found the fake bodies of the troupe in YorkNew. He hadn’t let you know they were fakes, so you had thought he was dead. You were crushed, refusing to leave your bed for days until he snuck into your apartment and told you he was okay. The few days made you realize just how much you loved him, and it scared you so much.

He blinked, turning away from you. “I didn’t have a purpose. When we were in Meteor City, we stole, scammed, and swindled our way for every little thing. We were orphans, after all. I figured that if I’m good at stealing, I should make a group out of it.” He muttered. You dug your nails into your skin, your feelings bubbling up as you frantically tried to talk yourself out of telling him how you felt right then and there. “You’ve killed a lot of people, Chrollo.” You muttered. It was a statement more so directed towards yourself than him. He shrugged, looking up. “I have, and I don’t care. It doesn’t affect me. It’s who I am.” He said. You laughed. “You’ve always been very cold like that.” You said. He shrugged, looking at you. “Let’s change the subject. What’s your New Years resolution?” He asked. You paused, before shrugging. “I don’t have one. Do you?” You asked. He nodded. You tilted your head, waiting for him to speak.

“My New Year’s resolution is for you to be mine.”

You blinked. It felt like you just got the air sucked out of you. Opening and closing your mouth a few times, you felt your face flush as he smiled at you. “I- what?” You said. “I know you heard me. I don’t need to repeat myself.” He stated calmly. You could hear your town collectively counting down the seconds until the New Year.

Out of pure adrenaline, you grabbed onto his shirt collar and pressed your lips against his, letting your eyes flutter shut as you kissed him. He put a hand on your cheek and reciprocated easily, the charming bastard. Pulling away, you opened your eyes and smirked at him.

“That’s funny, because it seems thats just become my New Years resolution as well.”

[balticapocalypse]

THE SNAKE IN BALTIC RELIGION

"Chronicles, travelogues, ecclesiastical correspondence and other historical records written by foreigners often made mention of snake worship among the Old Prussians, Samogitians, Lithuanians, and Latvians. The snakes were frequently referred to as žalčiai (cognate with Žalias 'green') which has been identified as the non-poisonous Tropodonotus natrix. Sometimes the chronicles also referred to them as gyvatės, a word which is clearly associated with Lith. gyvata 'vitality' and gyvas 'living'. The following historical records should more than suffice to demonstrate that snakes were worshipped widely among the Balts.

In the eleventh century, Adam of Bremen wrote that the Lithuanians worshipped dragons and flying serpents to whom they even offered human sacrifices (Balys 1948:66).

Aeneas Silvius recorded in 1390 an account given him by the missionary Jerome of Prague who worked among the Lithuanians in the final decade of the fourteenth century. Jerome related that:

'The first Lithuanians whom I visited were snake worshippers. Every male head of the family kept a snake in the corner of the house to which they would offer food and when it was lying on the hay, they would pray by it'.

Jerome issued a decree that all such snakes should be killed and burnt in the public market place. Among the snakes there was one which was much larger that all the others and despite repeated efforts, they were unable to put an end to its life (Balys 1948:66; Korsakas, et al 1963:33).

Dlugosz at the end of the fifteenth century wrote that among the eastern Lithuanians there were special deities in the forms of snakes and it was believed that these snakes were penates Dii (God's messengers). He also recorded that the western Lithuanians worshipped both the gyvatės and žalčiai (Gimbutas 1958:35).

Erasmus Stella in his Antiquitates Borussicae (1518) wrote about the first Old Prussian king, Vidvutas Alanas. Erasmus related that the king was greatly concerned with religion and invited priests from the Sūduviai (another Baltic tribe), who, greatly influenced by their beliefs, taught the Prussians how to worship snakes: for they are loved by the gods and are their messengers. They (the Prussians) fed them in their homes and made offerings to them as household deities (Balys 1948: II 67).

Simon Grunau in 1521 wrote that in honor of the god Patrimpas, a snake was kept in a large vessel covered with a sheaf of hay and that girls would feed it milk (Welsford 1958:421).

Maletius observed ca. 1550 that:

'The Lithuanians and Samogitians kept snakes under their beds or in the corner of their houses where the table usually stood. They worship the snakes as if they were divine beings. At certain times they would invite the snakes to come to the table. The snakes would crawl up on the linen-covered table, taste some food, and then crawl back to their holes. When the snakes crawled away, the people with great joy would first eat from the dish which the snakes had first tasted, believing that the next year would be fortunate. On the other hand, if the snakes did not come to the table when invited or if they did not taste the food, this meant that great misfortune would befall them in the coming year' (Balys 1948:67).

In 1557 Zigismund Herberstein wrote about his journey through northwestern Lithuania (Moscovica 1557, Vienna):

'Even today one can find many pagan beliefs held by these people, some of whom worship fire, others — trees, and others the sun and the moon. Still others keep their gods at home and these are serpents about three feet long... They have a special time when they feed their gods. In the middle of the house they place some milk and then kneel down on benches. Then the serpents crawl out and hiss at the people engaged geese and the people pray to them with great respect. If some mishap befalls them, they blame themselves for not properly feeding their gods' (Balys 1948: II 67).

Strykovsky in his 1582 chronicle on the Old Prussians related:

'They have erected to the god Patrimpas a statue and they honor him by taking care of a live snake to whom they feed milk so that it would remain content' (Korsakas et. al 1963:23).

A Jesuit missionary's report of 1583 reported:

'...when we felled their sacred oaks and killed their holy snakes with which the parents and the children had lived together since the cradle, then the pagans would cry that we are defaming their deities, that their gods of the trees, caves, fields, and orchards are destroyed' (Balys 1948: 11,68).

In 1604 another Jesuit missionary remarked:

'The people have reached such a stage of madness that they believe that deity exists in reptiles. Therefore, they carefully safeguard them, lest someone injure the serpents kept inside their homes. Superstitiously they believe that harm would come to them should anyone show disrespect to these serpents. It sometimes happens that snakes are encountered sucking milk from cows. Some of us occasionally have tried to pull one off, but invariably the farmer would plead in vain to dissuade us... When pleading failed, the man would seize the reptile with his hands and run away to hide it' (Gimbutas 1958:33).

In his De Dies Samagitarum of 1615, Johan Lasicci wrote:

'Also, just like some household deities, they feed black-colored reptiles which they call gioutos. When these snakes crawl out from the corners of the house and slither up to the food, everyone observes them with fear and respect. If some mishap befalls anyone who worship such reptiles, they explain that they did not treat them properly' (Lasickis 1969:25).

Andrius Cellarius in his Descripto Regni Polonicae (1659) observed:

'although the Samogitians were christianized in 1386, to this very day they are not free from their paganism, for even now they keep tamed snakes in their houses and show great respect for them, calling them Givoites' (Balys 1948: II 70).

T. Arnkiel wrote that ca. 1675 while traveling in Latvia he saw an enormous number of snakes.

'die night allein auf dem Felde und im Walde, sondern auch in den Häusern, ja gar in den Betten sich eingefunden, so ich mannigmahl mit Schrecken angesehen. Diese Schlangen thun selten Schaden, wie denn auch niemand unter den Bauern ihren Schaden zufügen wird. Scheint, dass bey denselben die alte Abgötterey noch nicht gäntzlich verloschen' (Biezais 1955: 33).

The Balts' positive attitude towards the snake has been recorded also in the late nineteenth century in the Deliciae Prussicae (1871) of Matthaus Pratorius who observed: 'Die Begegnung einer Schlange ist den Zamatien und preussischen Littauern noch jetziger Zeit ein gutes Omen' (Elisonas 1931:8.3).

Aside from the widespread attestation of snake-worship among the Balts and its persistence into Christian times, these historical records also suggest an intriguing relationship between Baltic mythology and our folk tale. Both Simon Grunau (1521) and Strykovsky (1582) mention the worship of the snake in close reference to the god Patrimpas. This deity is commonly identified as the "God of Waters" and his name is cognate with Old Prussian trumpa 'river'. The close association between the snake and the "God of Waters" has prompted E. Welsford to suggest a slight possibility that the water deity Patrimpas was at one time worshipped in the form of a snake (Welsford 1958:421). A serpent divinity associated with the water finds numerous parallels among Indo-European peoples, eg. the Indie Vrtra who withholds the waters and his benevolent counterpart, the Ahibudhnya 'the serpent of the deep'; the Midgard serpent of Norse mythology; Poseidon's serpents who are sent out of the sea to slay Lacoon, etc. A detailed comparison of the IE water-snake figure would far exceed the limits of this paper, nevertheless, it is curious to note that except for the quite minor Ahibudhnya, most IE mythologies present the water-serpent as malevolent creature — an attitude quite at variance with that of the ancient Balts.

From the historical records it is difficult to determine to what extent the ancient Balts might actually have possessed an organized snake-cult. Erasmus Stella's account of 1518 concerning the Sudovian Priest's introduction of snake-worship into Prussia might suggest such an established cult. In any event, that the snake was worshipped widely on a domestic level cannot be denied. In general it was deemed fortunate to come across a žaltys, and encountering a snake prophesied either marriage or birth. The žaltys was always said to bring happiness and prosperity, ensuring the fertility of the soil and the increase of the family. Up until the twentieth century, in many parts of Lithuania, farm women would leave milk in shallow pans in their yards for the žalčiai. This, they explained, helped to ensure the well-being of the family.

In 1924 H. Bertuleit wrote that the Samogitian peasants "even at the present time, staunchly maintain that the žaltys/gyvatė is a health and strength giving being" (Balys 1948: II 73). To this day in Lithuania, the gabled roofs are occasionally topped with serpent-shaped carvings in order to protect the household from evil powers.

The best proof of the still persistent respect, if no longer veneration, of the snake (or žaltys in specific) is provided by various folk sayings and beliefs which were recorded during this century. Some of them clearly reflect the association of the snake with good luck, while others depict the evil consequences which will befall one if he does not respect the snake. The following are some examples:

Good luck

1. If a snake crosses over your path you will have good luck.

2. If a snake runs across your path, there will be good fortune.

3. Žaltys is a good guardian of the home, he protects the home from thunder, sickness and murder.

4. If a žaltys appears in the living room, someone in that house will soon get married.

Bad consequences

5. In some houses there live domestic snakes; one must never kill this house-snake, for if you do, misfortunes and bad luck will fall on you and will last for seven years.

6. If you burn a snake in a fire and look at it when it is burning, you will become blind.

7. If you find a snake and throw it on an ant hill, it will stick out its little legs which will cause you to go blind.

8. If s snake bites someone and the person then kills the snake, he will never get well.

9. If a snake bites a man and another person kills it, the man will never recover.

10. If you kill the snake that bit you, you will never recover.

11. If a žaltys comes when one is eating, one must give it food, otherwise one will choke.

12. When children are eating and a žaltys crawls up to them, he must be fed; otherwise the children will choke.

13. If you kill a žaltys, your own animals will never obey you.

14. If someone kills a snake, it will not die until the sun has set.

15. If you kill a snake, the sun cries.

16. If you kill a snake and leave it unburied, the sun grows sick.

17. When a snake or a žaltys is killed, the sun cries while the Devil laughs.

18. If you kill a snake and leave it in the forest, then the sun grows dim for two or three days.

19. If you kill a snake and leave it unburied, then the sun will cry when it sees such a horrible thing.

20. If you kill a snake, you must bury it, otherwise the sun will cry when it sees the dead snake.

The snake's name.

21. If one finds a snake in the forest and wants to show it to others, he must say: "Come, here I found a paukštyte (little bird)!", otherwise, if you call it a gyvate, the snake will understand its name and run away.

22. If you see a snake, call it a little bird; then it will not attack humans.

23. While eating, never talk about a snake or you will meet it when going through the forest.

24. Snakes never bite those who do not mention their name in vain, especially while eating and on the days of the Blessed Mary (Wednesdays and Sundays).

25. On seeing a snake you should say: "Pretty little swallow." It likes this name and does not get angry nor bite.

26. If someone guesses the names of a snake's children, the snake and its children will die.

27. If you do not want a snake to bite you when you are walking though the forest, then don't mention its name.

28. A snake does not run away from -those who know its name.

29. Whoever knows the name of the king of the snakes will never be bitten by them.

30. One must never directly address a snake as gyvatė (snake); instead, one should use ilgoji (the long one) or margoji (the dappled one).

Snakes and cows.

31. Every cow has her own žaltys and when the žaltys becomes lost, she gives less milk. When buying a cow, a žaltys should also be bought together.

32. If you kill a žaltys, things will go bad because other žalčiai will suck all the milk from the cows.

Life-index and affinity to man

33. Some people keep a žaltys in the corner of their house and say: if I didn't have that žaltys, I would die.

34. If a person takes a žaltys out of the house — that person will also have to leave home.

35. If a žaltys leaves the house, someone in that household will die.

Enticement.

36. When you see a snake crawl into a tree trunk, cross two branches and carry them around the tree stump. Then place the crossed branches on the hole through which the snake crawled in. When the sun rises, you will find the snake lying on these branches.

37. When you see a snake and it crawls into a tree-stump, take a stick and draw a circle around the stump. Then, break the stick and place it in the shape of a cross and the snake will crawl out and lie down on the cross.

Miscellaneous.

38. If a snake bites you, pick it up in your hands and rub its head against the wound. Then you will get well.

39. When one is bitten by a snake, say: "Iron one! Cold-tailed one! Forgive (name of person bitten)," while blowing in the direction of the sick person.

40. If you throw a dead snake into water, it will come back to life.

41. A snake attacks a man only when it sees his shadow.

42. They say that when a snake is killed, it comes back to life on the ninth day.

43. If a snake bites an ash tree, the tree bursts into leaf.8

44. If someone understands the language of the snakes, whey will obey him and he can command them to go from one place to another.

45. If there are too many snakes and you want them to leave, light a holy fire at the edge of your field and in the center; all the snakes will then crawl in groups through the fire and go away, but you must not touch them.

Some folk-beliefs show an obvious Christian influence and are possibly the products of frustrated Jesuit anti-snake propagandists:

45. When you meet a snake you must certainly have to kill it for if you fail to do so, then you will have committed a great sin.

46. If you kill a snake, you will win many indulgences.

47. If you kill seven snakes, all your sins will be forgiven.

48. If you kill seven snakes, you will win the Kingdom of Heaven

Such examples as these, however, are quite rare in comparison to the folk-beliefs which are sympathetic to the snake.

Considering the evidence amassed from both historical records and folk-belief that the Balts possessed a positive and reverent attitude towards the snake, it is little wonder that the snake husband's death is viewed as tragedy. If, as the proverbs suggest, a snake's death can affect the sun, then what consequences might the death of the very King of the Snakes have among mortals? This tragic outcome, as Swahn has indicated, gives the tale a character which is foreign to the true folk-tale (Swahn 1955:341). This tale could not terminate on the usual euphoric note typical of the Märchen (although the tale does contain numerous Märchen motifs) because the main event of the story relates to a "reality" which the people who tell the story still hold to be true. The tale is thus well-nourished in a setting where such folk-beliefs about the snake persist. On the other hand, the tale itself may have played a part in affecting the longevity of the beliefs. Whichever case may be true, it is obvious that both are closely related.

A specific element of folk-belief that survived as an ideological support to the tale is that of the snake's name-taboo. The tragic killing of the snake king is implemented only because the name formula is revealed. Thus, the general snake-taboo proverbs (No. 21-30; receive a specific denouement in the snake-father ordering that his name and summoning formula not be revealed to others. There appear to be two important aspects that surround this name-taboo. First of all, it reflects the primitive concept of one being able to manipulate another when his name is known. A second aspect is that the name-taboo may rest on the reverence and fear of a more powerful supernatural being that requires mortals never to mention the deity's real name. For example, Perkūnas, the all-powerful Thunder God of the Baits, has many substitutes for his real name which are usually onomatopoeic with the sound of thunder, eg. Dudulis, Dundulis, Tarškulis, Trenktinis. In our tale the general reason for the name-taboo may be partially related to this second explanation especially since there are a number of variants for the name of the snake-king, eg. Žilvine, which have no etymological support but bear a suspicious resemblance to the word žaltys 'snake'. This might then indicate a deliberate attempt to destroy the name žaltys in such a way as to avoid breaking the name-taboo but still retain some of the underlying semantic force. On the other hand, it must be admitted that many of the summoning formulas include a direct reference to the husband as žaltys. In these cases, since the brothers know his name, they can extend their power over him. It is likely that both these aspects should be considered when explaining the name-taboo of the story. The clear distinction between the obviously Christian folk-sayings (No. 45-48) and the underlying pro-snake proverbs carries considerable significance when one views the substitution of the Devil for the snake in many of the Latvian variants. This substitution occurred in all probability with the increasing influence of Christianity and its usual association of the serpent with the Devil as in the Garden of Eden story. It is interesting to reflect that in some cases the entire story proceeds with the same tragic development despite this substitution (Lat. 2, 7, 9, 15). Even in the Lithuanian variant (Lith. 4) where an old woman tells the heroine that her snake-husband is actually the Devil, this does little to alter the tragic tone of the tale's ending. Thus, it would seem that the Devil is a relatively late introduction, sometimes amounting to little more than a Christian gloss of the snake's real identity. On this basis, one might well conelude that the tale must have been composed in pagan times and is thereby, at the very least, four or five centuries old if not far older.

The effect of the diabolization of the snake among the Latvian variants seems to have led to a disintegration of the tale's actual structure. In some of the Latvian redactions (Lat. 4, 8, 15) where the Devil is the abductor, the story simply ends with the killing of the supernatural husband and the heroine's rescue. In variants of the tale which progress with such a rescue-motif development, it is important to observe that many of the other elements are consequently dropped. There is no name-taboo or magic formula, sometimes no children, and, of course, no magical transformation. Thus the tale is stripped of all these other embellishments and appears rather bare. It simply relates an abduction of the heroine and her rescue, usually accomplished by some members of her family or a priest and thunder storm (Latv. 15). In any event, the abductor is one whom she quite definitely cannot marry and therefore, there can be no Märchen marriage-feast. When the tale has been altered, the rescue motif can then be correlated to the other Märchen tale-types where the heroine is abducted (rather than married) and is eventually rescued by an eligible marriage partner. One might even speculate that this will be the eventual fate of those particular Latvian variants which no longer specify that the snake, a sacred and positive being, is the supernatural husband. We then have an intimate relationship between folk-belief and folk-tale which ultimately may be mirrored in the very structure of the story.

The place of the snake in Baltic folk-belief and its relation to our tale now having been well established, the obvious next question is whether similar beliefs exist in the neighboring non-Baltic countries and, if not, might we propose this as a possible explanation why the story as a Baltic oicotype has not spread to these other cultures. A complete analysis of the role of the snake in Germanic and Slavic folk-belief would far exceed the time allotted for the composition of this study, nevertheless, some of the evidence arrived at by way of a cursory review should be brought forth.

Of sole interest in our investigation of snake beliefs among the Germans and Slavs is the extent to which these cultures parallel the Balts with respect to the latter's quite sympathetic attitude toward the snake. Bolte and Polivka, Hoffmann - Krayer and J. Grimm all mention that among the Germans there are some beliefs which view the snake in a positive light. A few specific entries in Handwörterbuch des deutschen Aberglaubens are similar to some folk-beliefs already cited among the Baits (Hoffmann - Krayer 1935-36: VII 1139-1141). Bolte and Polivka in listing parallels to Grimm's Märchen von der Unke cite several instances of snakes bringing great fortune to those who treat them well and disaster to those who disrespect or abuse them (Bolte and Polivka 1915: II 459-465) .9 Both Hoffmann-Krayer and Grimm, after listing various "remnants" of what they maintain might be evidence for an ancient snake-cult in Germany, state that under the influence of Christianity the snake is usually diabolized and its image as a malignant and deceitful creature predominates. Only in some very "old" stories are there traces of the original heathen positive attitude towards the snake (Grimm 1966: II 684); Hoffmann - Krayer 1935-36: VII Sp. 1139).

Welsford, in writings about the snake-cult among the ancient Slavs, states that it was probably quite similar to the one which persisted among the Balts, but that the latter seems to have retained it much longer. In the Slavic countries the snake was usually regarded as a creature in which dead souls were embodied and through time came to be viewed mostly as a dangerous animal. It is this aspect of the snake which appears most often in Slavic stories. The snake seems to be similar or even identical with other evil antagonists such as Baba Yaga (Welsford 1958: 422). There are also many stories involving a hero or heroine who has been transformed into a snake by evil enchantment. These stories primarily relate how this "curse" is ultimately overcome.

These remarks indicate that the respect for the snake and its association with good fortune was also known to both Germans and Slavs. The heathen past, however, is farther removed from these peoples than form the Latvians and Lithuanians. If similar snake-cults existed in Germany and in Slavic lands, they were not practiced on the same scale within recorded history as they were by the Baits. The cited fourteenth to eighteenth century reports on the Baits were written by Slavs and Germans and already then the surprise and disgust with which they viewed Baltic snake-veneration gives us a good indication of the place of the snake within their own cultures.

Cursory perusal of present-day Germanic and Slavic beliefs about the snake seems to verify the fact that, indeed, the snake is usually considered deceitful and malevolent. The majority of folk-beliefs, expressions, and proverbs reflect this general negative attitude. There are only a few examples of a positive regard for the snake, usually associating it with powers of healing. One may speculate that the folk medicine beliefs which prescribe the use of a snake as an effective cure may be partially explained by the notion that evil conquers evil (ie. an extension of similia similibus curantor). This, however, is mere speculation for it is also likely that the snake's obvious vitality may be responsible for its specification in various folk cures. This latter case seems to be well supported in the Baltic beliefs (cf. folk-belief 38, 39) since the name for snake, gyvatė, and its association with gyvata 'life' helps one to consciously sense the logical correlation.

Stories which mention the affinity between snakes and children are probably known throughout the world because they describe an unexpected occurrence. W. Hand has suggested that the credibility of such stories rests on the notion that the child's innocence and helplessness can not be breached even by a snake (Hand 1968). Note that this kind of logic presupposes that the snake is evil.

Hence, although a more thorough investigation is definitely required, one may still suggest that the Balts have sustained through their history a more sympathetic regard for the snake than either the Germans or Slavs. Assuming that this hypothesis may be true, let us now see how it might be related to the discussion of our tale.

When one assumes no comparable folkloric basis among the Germans and Slavs with regard to the snake, then the Baltic tale would make very little 'cultural sense' to these people and even if it penetrated into their cultural spheres, it would probably by altered by the same process which seems to be occurring with the Latvian tales. Secondly, even if we posit the existence of a similar positive attitude toward the snake in these cultures at a pre-Christian time, these beliefs would now seem to have almost entirely died out. In any case, even though there may be some survivals, there has been no comparative retention of respect and reverence for the snake among the Germans and Slavs as one finds with the Baits. The narrative motif of this tale clearly rests on a folk-belief which serves as an ideological backbone to the story. Conversely, people unfamiliar with the underlying folk-belief or possessing quite antithetical beliefs would find this tale lacking in cultural meaning and, therefore, 'untransferable,' at least in its original form".

By Elena Bradunas, 'If you killed a snake the sun will cry' in Lituanus: Lithuanian Quarterly Journal of Arts and Science (21).

Illustration by Aleksandra Czudzak.

[andrewologist]

Can’t Get Control of the World

first full length fic I’ve posted in over a year and it’s batlantern. I’m not sorry.

thank you @emmajeancoco-deactivated20001027 for editing this for me even though you had no clue what the fuck was happening <3

tw: blood, mild gore, panic attack

also on ao3

--------

The mission went bad.

Spectacularly, woefully, bad.

There were a lot of casualties. The intel the Oa received was outdated. The Lanterns were outmatched. The planet they were supposed to be protecting was in ruins.

1,009,953,907 casualties. Too many of them children. Hal had done the math in his head over and over. and over. and over. and over. From the end of the battle to the debrief on Oa to the flight home. There was nothing that Hal could have done to stop it, to change it.

It wasn’t his fault.

And yet.

He could still smell the awful stench of burnt flesh.

He could still see the terrified face of the child, who looked uncomfortably human.

He could still hear the screaming and, god, the pleading.

The Watchtower was the furthest he could make it without collapsing.

He doesn’t know whether he should be relieved or disappointed that the halls are empty when he arrives. He makes a bee-line for the locker room, thankful that no one was there to talk to him but still hoping that one man, in particular, would stop him.

His hair is covered in dust, and his face is speckled red from the minor scrapes he gained from falling debris, but the rest of his body is relatively clean.

Except for his arms.

Despite their purple skin, the Vraissol still have red blood. It’s thicker than human blood, but it looks damn near the same.

And Hal’s arms were covered in it, from his fingers to his elbows.

The dust washes away, the scrapes sting under the hot water, but they had stopped bleeding hours ago.

But the blood wouldn’t get off his hands.

Between the debrief and the trip home, it had dried and hardened into itchy, red cement.

No matter how hot Hal makes the water, no matter how hard he scrubs with the stupid high-tech expensive decontamination soap, it refuses to come off in more than tiny flakes.

The longer it stays there, the longer Hal has to look at the almost-black blood, the sicker he feels.

The harder he scrubs, the more he remembers.

All he can see is the family of Vraissols trapped under the ruins of their home, the child cowering in fear from him because it didn’t matter that he was trying to help; he had brought destruction with him. He can still see the blood seeping through his fingers as he tries desperately to stop the bleeding; he can still hear the explosion nearby. His brain had telegraphed every moment of the rubble crashing down next to him right where the family had-

The door to the locker room slams open as Hal’s knees give out from under him, and it’s the thunder of the battle raging overhead, reinforcements exploding-

“Hal!”

Someone is calling his name; he can hear it, but it’s miles away, and he’s not there. How could he be here?

Footsteps pound toward him, and it’s bullets raining down-

“Hal, it’s Bruce. Breathe with me.”

The room goes quiet - someone turned the shower off - and all there is the sound of exaggerated breathing in front of him as he desperately tries to get control of the air around him.

“That’s good, Hal. Can you look at me?”

Hal wants to snap back and tell Bruce to stop treating him like a child, but he opens his eyes to see Bruce crouched down in front of him, dress pants soaked and shirt sleeves rolled up, towel in hand and fear flashing in his eyes for a split second before he gets control of it.

Hal is hit with just how much he missed Bruce. One kiss before an emergency Lantern call, and he missed him like a limb.

“Hal, what happened to your hands?”

Hal swallows and gets a grip on his breathing before responding.

“Not my blood,” he says, startled by how even and hollow his voice sounds. Bruce sucks in a breath and motions him forward as he unfolds the towel.

If it were any other day, Hal would’ve laughed in Bruce’s face. If it were anyone else, Hal would’ve been angry.

But he’s too tired and hollowed out to protest.

So he lets Bruce wrap him in a towel. Lets him search through his locker for an extra pair of sweatpants. Lets him hold Hal steady as he steps into the legs of the sweatpants one by one. He lets Bruce guide him to the bench. Watches as Bruce putters around the locker room in silence, opening and closing a few cabinets. Pretends not to notice Bruce glancing over at him every three seconds.

He stays silent as Bruce sits next to him and takes Hal’s left hand in his own, so gently that Hal momentarily forgets that those same hands could tear down all of Gotham. So gently that Hal is reminded that Bruce is a father before anything else, despite what he tells himself and everyone else.

Hal looks away from his hands. Stares anywhere but down.

“I didn’t think anyone was here,” Hal says, just barely above a whisper.

I didn’t think anyone would see me like this.

“I got an alert as soon as you returned,” Bruce responds, just barely below a whisper.

You don’t have to hide from me.

Hal turns to look at Bruce. His gaze is focused as he works at the blood on Hal’s hands. Whatever he’s doing is working. Hal is starting to feel the air on his skin again, but it still feels like lead.

Bruce’s features are pulled tight in an expression that Hal would have once read as anger and frustration. Now Hal knows that it means that Bruce is throwing himself into a task to try and forget the worry and fear at war in his head.

“We were outnumbered,” Hal says, still not daring to break the quiet of the air. Bruce pauses, and his eyes flicker across Hal’s face, calculating. Always calculating.

Hal looks away. Bruce continues.

“The intel was wrong. Somehow. They had more firepower.”

Hal is silent as Bruce finishes his left hand. He switches to his right hand, carefully removing the ring and setting it aside.

“Even with ten of us defending that planet, we weren’t enough.”

Bruce works at his right arm steadily.

Hal doesn’t look down until he pulls away. 

His hands are raw and numb. There’s a section of his left arm that is significantly worse than the rest. He realizes it’s because he had scrubbed at it until he broke the skin.

Bruce holds out his ring, and Hal takes it. Holds it in his hand.

“1,009,953,907 Vraissol. And they were all terrified.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Hal. You did what you could.”

Hal’s head whips around to look at Bruce, his eyes meeting Bruce’s for the first time in too long. It’s not pity he sees in the other man’s eyes. It’s understanding. Concern. Pain. It makes Hal feel incredibly small and infinitely old.

“But that’s the worst part, isn’t it? There was nothing I could do. Not a goddamn thing.”

Bruce takes Hal’s hand again, takes the ring from his palm, and slides it back onto his finger. Hal doesn’t take his eyes off of Bruce for a single moment.

Bruce meets Hal’s gaze, places his hand on Hal’s face.

“Sometimes our best isn’t enough. But you tried. You can’t save everyone, but that doesn’t make you any less good. There is good left in this world, Hal Jordan. You are proof of that.”

Hal is silent, but his eyes are searching Bruce’s face, his hands trembling, his whole world unsteady.

He can see the weight that Bruce puts on his own shoulders; can feel the weight on his own.

The weight of a thousand worlds on their shoulders and Bruce washed the blood off of Hal’s hands.

[dungeons-are-too-cold]

Sam Nightingale - Burned out

tInspired by @calico-and-lace ‘s post about sam and Penelope to the song no children by the mountain goats. This song has been making me think of Sam a lot. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What is there to talk about, clearly,” Sam snapped at Antiope. 

“You know what, now I’m-” and before Antiope could even finish her response, Sam interrupted her. She clearly did not want to hear what Antiope had to say. 

“I’m done. I’m done, I’m leaving.” Sam stormed off down the hall way. 

“Dreams and ideas should not be the same thing You waited smiling for this”

Through so much of growing up, Sam was best friends with Penelope who would consistently leave her and hurt her and abandon her when she needed a friend the most. In their sophomore year, Penelope even trapped Sam in a palimpsest  just so that she could be the prom queen in the plans of Kalvaxas. Penelope routinely hurt her, but she was Sam’s longest friend and so she just decided to get used to it; having thick skin was necessary to keep the friendship and she learned to just keep up appearances. 

“Oh, she'd want it If she knew She could take it, I thought too Be careful be cautious, but you just wished harder You waited smiling for this”

However, this was different now with the maidens. Sam was able to build up walls with Penelope because she knew that she would eventually be let down, or pushed down, so that Penelope could keep the power. She could prepare. The maidens were nothing like Penelope, though. They promised friendship, they were genuine and loyal and Sam new that they loved her, so she let her walls down. She let herself get used to them being around, thinking she would always have them around. Now, after talking with Aguefort about their age difference, Sam was feeling betrayed. How could Penny and Antiope just have other plans? How could they just leave the adventuring party like that? This abandonment was a slap in the face, and immediately her brain got to work at rebuilding those walls. Even though she cared deeply about the maiden’s, she was so quick lash out at Zelda, Yelle, and Antiope. She started to remember how she was hurt by Penelope, and tried to start taking back her distance from her friends.

When Yelle came to talk to her, Sam didn't want to hear anything she had to say. She didn't want to talk about it either. All Sam wanted to do was go back to being alone, to go back to being closed off. With everything that she had been through in her life, she learned to close herself off before people closed themselves off from her. After all this time, she felt like she was 15 again and her best friend from childhood was trapping her in a palimpsest, except this time it was the maidens who were trapping her with herself. It was really scary to feel like everything she worked so hard to get, and harder to keep, was slipping away from her. Yelle, with her intuition and wisdom, knew immediately that she needed to talk to Sam before she was too closed off and wouldn't be open with the maidens anymore. She was able to get Sam to crack a smile, she always knew how to make her merbae smile, and then proceeded to remind her of what being a part of the maidens really means. She knew Sam wasn't just upset about the problem at hand.

“It’s clear that something’s really bothering you because you would never have popped off at the girls like that because you know how much they love you.”

“But they love you, over and over They love you Thousands and thousands of eyes just like mine Aching to find who they are Oh they love you Oh you can feel how they love you Coated and warm, but that's all they can do Words only get through if they're sharp”

Even with reminder and the reassuring words, Sam was still terrified. It’s hard to let in all of the kindness and goodness of people you feel are abandoning you. 

“You know, we’re and Adventuring party, we are supposed to be like together for a while. Like, we’re supposed to do adventuring stuff, and go on quests, and you know, murder people. How could they not want that?” Sam choked up as she tried to get these words out of her mouth. She tried to hide it from Yelle, but what Sam was really asking was “how could they not want me?” 

Relationship after relationship in Sam’s life ended in betrayal. The people who she was closest to were the ones who hurt her and abandoned her. This was so much more than just the maidens, she was question her relationship with her mother, with her boyfriend, with her best friend. The relationship she had with the other maidens was the most meaningful one she had ever had and she was watching history repeat itself once again; she was aching from wounds past and present, and it was getting to be too much for her. She chose her words as carefully as she could, though, in an attempt to make sure her friend would never suspect that she was hurting so deeply and for so long, a bad habit still leftover from her last friendship.

I am burnt out I smell of smoke it seeps through her cracks and so I start to choke Sentences sit in her mouth that are templated You waited smiling for this

“They say you never know who your people are until you’re looking back at your life, but sometimes it's just, you just go through things with people that you just know” Yelle sweetly said to comfort Sam. She still was working on that positive reinforcement she always uses to affirm that they truly are family. It was starting to get through to her now.

“Maybe I'll talk about it”

Sam soon began to concede, “Okay, maybe you're right this time.”

“I can just talk about it” 

However, when Sam went home to the Everpetal house that night, she walked into silence. Home had never really been a relaxing space for her, but today was particularly unnerving. Rebecca had moved out earlier that day because of the divorce from Gideon, and Penelope had been long gone since the prom. All of the people she previously had shared this house with, shared her life with, were not in the picture. Her finger hovered over Zelda’s name in her contacts, wanting to apologize, that part of the new her still lingered momentarily. The call Rebecca received earlier from her mother was still stuck in the back of her head though, and drew her away from the phone. She added the conversation with Aguefort and the maidens to the list she kept of the abandonment she experienced that day , which was far too long for such a short time, and resigned to her old ways. With the idea that relationships never last looming over her head, and the texts from antipope and penny still missing, Sam retreated to a version of herself back before the maidens. There was no one to stop her, hold her hand, give her a hug, or talk her down. She trudged up the staircase to Penelope’s room shutting the door. 

“I'll never talk about it”

“Umm, Oh my god. A call without a text first? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Penelope hissed through the glass as Sam’s mirror heated up in her hands with the fires of hell. 

“You look better than you ever did alive” Sam sneered back. The two of them verbally sparred, trading insults and throwing jabs at each other just like they used to and yes, it sucked, but at least it was familiar. Being stung and stinging back was how these two communicated, and even though Sam thought she was making herself feel better, she was ignoring the fact that Penelope delights in pain and she does not. A flicker of that ignited in her but was quickly put out by Penelope’s final question. 

“What is it that you want, Sam?” 

“No, I cannot talk about it”

“You should know you're parents are divorcing,” and with that, the mirror was slammed shut. 

“Don't build hope on something broken I am not cartoon Cry for help, I am not joking I might just leave soon.”

[seijuurouxryuu]

zombies ate my neighbour (and turned into mince meat)

Title: zombies ate my neighbour (and turned into mince meat) Author: Shiro (TeitoxAkashi [AO3]/ seijuurouxryuu [tumblr]) Rating: T Pairing: Hibari Kyouya/Sawada Tsunayoshi/Yamamoto Takeshi Event: @khrrarepairweek Prompts: Zombie Apocalypse AU | Accidental Kidnapping Tags/Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning, Major Character Death, No Archive Warning

Day 2: Sky Day

06/05/2943

It was his birthday yesterday, the skylark who took over control of Namimori. He was interesting. His first reaction was not to hoard food, but to start a one-sided slaughter with the undead. He then ordered his men to put up fences around Namimori boarder, closing off the small town. He cleaned up the remains and burnt the undead.

Some, though, he kept caged in his compound.

AO3

13/04/2943

 The sky suddenly turned red. It was not a gradual change, no, the redness came all of the sudden when the sun was still shining brightly. News was all about dooms day and judgement day and blah. Annoying.

 18/04/2943

 The sky remained red. Even when the sun sets, the sky was still red. No one knows why, all the scientists were scrambling to find the reasons and consequences of no night but they failed to discover something huge.

 There were more rotting corpses on the street.

 25/04/2943

 They finally noticed; it wasn't dooms day but close. It was a zombie apocalypse, like those in the movies and fictions. Food and clean water ran low, none of the grass or trees or plants can be eaten because they had mutated. Even the animals were starting to mutate.

 People were dying faster than zombies could kill them.

 How ironic.

 06/05/2943

 It was his birthday yesterday, the skylark who took over control of Namimori. He was interesting. His first reaction was not to hoard food, but to start a one-sided slaughter with the undead. He then ordered his men to put up fences around Namimori boarder, closing off the small town. He cleaned up the remains and burnt the undead.

 Some, though, he kept caged in his compound.

 07/07/2943

 Hibari Kyouya. He finally cleared Namimori of zombies after almost two months. He organized food rationing, set up teams of guards for the boarder and people in charge of raiding food from nearby town. Some outsiders would find their way to the boarders and pled for entry, but Hibari accepted only those who were once from Namimori and young children or old people. The rest that are well and able were barred from entry.

 It wasn't a surprise, honestly. Hibari owned and loved Namimori. He wouldn't let anyone who is not Namimori in and sabotage the peace. He was kind enough still to accept those who cannot sustain themselves in such trying times. "Those herbivores could not even fight against a tiny zombie animal, much less a zombie. I'd rather they not add to the number." He had said.

 I think he was kinder than he let on.

 28/07/2943

 I got accepted into the youth team for zombie virus research. Hibari had established a team of researchers from a group of doctors. Their main task was to make use of the captured zombies Hibari had in his compound to find a cure--either to completely vaccinate everyone from the virus that spreads by bites or scratches from a zombie, or to reverse engineer and turn those zombies back to human. Honestly, the latter sound absurd. Even the adults said so, but Hibari was adamant that they figure out a way.

 A week into the research, none of the doctors or scientists managed to find something; all these old fogies were too scared to approach the zombies even with Hibari watching close, even with them held down. Hibari almost killed them in annoyance instead if not for the fact he still needed their brains. That was why the Youth team was established. Because apparently the younger generations were braver.

 More like they couldn't send those around them as cannon fodders, so they decided to push for kids being the cannon fodders. Cowards, all of them. Fucking cowards.

 Hibari, of course, knew their plan but he allowed the setup of a Youth team anyway. He had said: "Whoever takes the sample can use it on their own or with their team--no sharing of samples outside of the team. You old herbivores may be smart, but if you don't suck it up anytime soon I will deal with your old bones faster than a zombie can."

 In my opinion, that was the hottest shit I've ever heard in my whole life.

 16/08/2943

 The main researchers were all scared shitless by Hibari's threat so they finally took the samples themselves. The Youth team did too. We both use the samples separately, but every day we would gather together with the adults to discuss our findings. I honestly didn't know why Hibari allowed the Youth to participate separately because honestly, the oldest of us is only 24 and had not even graduated from university. None of us were anymore knowledgeable than one another, much less the main team researchers.

 But Irie-senpai said it was because those old fogies were too stuck up in their old ideas that Hibari wanted more innovative brains to speed up the process. He also said with just those old bones, the world would have been annihilated way before they can figure out the cure.

 I guess there were some truths in that.

 Still, there were not much progress. Outside of Namimori, the zombie virus was still spreading. Hunters would go out and capture one or two back for us to check and to our horror, the zombie virus mutates from one person to another. It was practically impossible to find a permanent vaccine.

 But we had to do it.

 Otherwise Hibari would have our heads before the zombies did. That who-shall-not-be-named was an example.

 31/08/2943

 It was my turn to get another sample from Hibari's compound. There were around 20 that was kept, but out of the 20, 4 was permanent, and one of them was separately kept inside the house--the one no one has seen before. Even if the other 3 were rarely used to provide samples, that one particular zombie was never used.

 I was curious and asked Kusakabe, Hibari's right hand, and gotten an answer that confuses me.

 "That's Kyou-san's. No one else can touch."

 I mean, don't all of these zombies technically belong to Hibari?

 I didn't pry further though.

 18/09/2943

 I was collecting samples again when Hibari came back from his trip out of the boarders. He was as usual uninjured despite the blood and gore that stuck to his jacket. What surprised me was that he was carrying an unconscious boy in his arms when he walked into the compound. He was holding him tightly, yet the gentleness in his grip was not unseen. There was a clean blanket around the boy too, bundling him up into a burrito until only his head was seen--brown and fluffy.

 Without even blinking, he gestured at his followers and tilted his head at yet another group of new zombies. "Take those samples today." He said lowly, as though to not wake up the unconscious boy.

 I could only nod mutely as he swiftly turned and walked into the house.

 ... Did Hibari just kidnapped a boy from outside?

 21/09/2943

 We might have a new lead with the new group of zombies Hibari brought back. I can't write much though. Not because of anything but I just don't want to jinx it.

 Still, who was that boy?

 27/09/2943

 As it turned out, the boy--or young man--was not kidnapped. He was originally from Namimori as well and was out of boarders when the apocalypse happened. He had only just managed to find a way to contact Hibari and Hibari went to fetch him. Simple as that.

 Was what he said.

 It didn't look simple to me. Sawada--that guy--told me that he and Hibari used to be from the same school and Hibari had helped him a lot of times. They were friends, he said. I think their relationship is more than that, but with how convinced Sawada was, I didn't tell him my conjecture. Not that I could anyway with how Hibari stared daggers at me when I chatted with Sawada.

 How did I meet him?

 Well, as it turned out, the breakthrough we had the other day was a success, so Irie-senpai brought me and a few others to Hibari. Oh, Irie-senpai was their friends too, apparently, so he wasn't surprised seeing Sawada.

After the discussion and greenlight from Hibari to proceed with the rest of the research, Sawada and Irie-senpai started chatting. Somehow, Irie-senpai introduced me and the other Youth members to him, and somehow, Sawada started chatting with me more.

 I think he was bored with Hibari's constant silence.

 I merely listened though as he and Irie-senpai recounted their past.

 "Look, I didn't plan to go out of Namimori at that time. If it weren't for my uncle's insistence that I go visit him I'd rather stay here and possibly get bitten to death by a zombie." Sawada said. I don't think he was bored with Hibari's silence at all now.

 Irie-senpai laughed. "By a zombie, or him?"

 Sawada flushed red. How interesting...

 "Shut up, Shoichi."

 Hibari looked smug at the back.

 10/10/2944

 It took us more than a year, but we succeeded in creating the cure, much to the main research team's anger. We did share the findings with them, but those stuck-up old cows were adamant that what we did and the direction we were looking at was wrong. Now that we created the solution, they couldn't speak anymore.

 Our next stage was testing; Irie-senpai said we have to try on the old zombies Hibari has, but unfortunately most of them disintegrated a few months before. Those that are still 'alive' were the 4 that Hibari kept properly.

 Hibari did not approve the testing on them and argued a long time with Irie-senpai.

 While they were having a sort of 'shouting' contest in the courtyard--honestly, I think Hibari did not bite Irie-senpai to death solely because he was the leading the research--I was having tea with Sawada.

 Sawada didn't even look exasperated by their argument. Curious, I couldn't help but ask: "Why wouldn't Hibari-san allow us to test on those zombies?"

Sawada was dazed by the question. He suddenly looked down and smiled sadly. "Well.... Those four are our... Friends. Family. We... Well, the thing is, Hibari and I all hope for a cure to return them back to normal. They didn't exactly die, you know? They were bitten while alive, which suggest that they are still alive. We can feel that they're alive too, in fact, which is why... Hibari and I are waiting for the day to see them come back. Especially..." His eyes dimmed as he peered over to one particular zombie--the one Hibari kept carefully the most.

 He quickly shook his head and continued, "I think Shoichi don't even want to test on them, but he had no choice because the newest batch of zombies might have yet another mutation that renders the whole thing useless. Only with the old batch he could tell whether we're all on the exact right track... But none of us wanted to test on them when everything is so uncertain now, especially during the preliminary testing where we don't even know the side effects..."

 I seemed to have pieced something together.

 I said nothing and quietly nodded.

 23/02/2945

 As it turned out, mutation rendered the whole thing unsuccessful, yes. But from the old zombies--not Hibari's four--we somehow managed to find, we were all on the right track. But now, we have to tackle the mutation and make a protein that can target the unchanging amino acids of made from the virus. It's all complicated stuff; I'd probably write a whole book about it if I do so I'll spare you, and my hands, from the details.

 Interestingly, Sawada liked to chat with me whenever I go to Hibari's place for either more samples or discussion with Irie-senpai. I don't know why, maybe because I looked approachable? Who knows? Anyways, from him, I finally got to know who exactly the four zombies were.

 The smallest zombie was Chrome Dokuro, Sawada's adopted sister when she was abandoned by her parents from a car accident. She died in the hospital when the zombie outbreak happened, and Sawada was actually relieved that she turned into a zombie at that time because she was going to die soon from multiple organ failures. He said that once she was cured from the virus, he was going to transplant all the organs he found for her--that was the reason why he left Namimori back then to find his uncle. I suspected that he has connection with the Yakuza or black market, but that was beside the point.

 The next one was Sasagawa Ryohei. I knew him too--the brother of Sasagawa Kyouko. She is alive of course, just working in the food rationing team (She and Miura Haru were very scary if you jump queue during food distribution). Apparently, she was Sawada's schoolmate as well, and friend. The more you know. Anyways, Sasagawa Ryohei was Hibari's classmate at one point, and he had taught Sawada boxing once. They became friends after even though Sawada failed terribly at boxing--what he said.

 The third one was Gokudera Hayato. He was actually not from Namimori, but he was Sawada's childhood friend. He was a half-Italian who lived in Italy. He had transferred to Namimori Middle School years back because he was fed up with his family (TMI much, Sawada?) and wanted to be closer to Sawada, so he came with Sawada's uncle, who was by the name of Reborn. (I've met him ONE (1) time and I would NOT want to again.) He was bitten by a zombie when he was trying to protect Sawada's adoptive brother and sister (just how many siblings does Sawada have?) and got turned. Hibari brought him back before he bit anyone else and locked him up along with Sasagawa and Chrome.

 The last one, and probably the most cherished by Hibari (Sawada cherished all four of them but even I could tell he was saddest when facing this one), was Yamamoto Takeshi. I was surprised, because he was our resident baseball star. Before the apocalypse happened, he was the talk of the town because he was offered into the national baseball team. Sawada said Yamamoto was his childhood friend as well--and apparently Hibari's too--and he was bitten by his father Yamamoto Tsuyoshi, who changed while trying to protect him. Tsuyoshi-san unfortunately was killed and burned by a stranger who tried to help Yamamoto, who did not want to attack his father.

 Hibari had almost killed that stranger for burning Tsuyoshi-san if it were not for the fact the stranger had tried to save Yamamoto. But still, Yamamoto was bitten and had turned into a zombie. All Hibari could do was bring him back and cage him up just like how he did with the other three.

 Sawada looked very sorrowful when he retold everything.

 All I could do is pat his shoulders and console him that the research teams are trying our very best to help.

 And I am, trying my very best. I want to see them smile, honestly.

 16/01/2947

 Sorry, I hadn't had any time to write. It has been... 2 years, huh, since my last entry. I was far too busy--everyone was.

 The sky had darkened further in red, the rain started coming down red, even the sun and moon turned red. Everyone could tell that the zombie apocalypse is worsening. Us research teams were even more aware.

 After we found the cure, we immediately started tackling all and every mutation. We finally pinpointed a particular protein made by the virus RNA that is present in every mutation; it was the protein that changed the structure of a human's cells into 'undead' dead cells. It's like, some microorganisms can't survive in very cold temperature and would lay dormant but once the temperature rises it would wake up and start working.

 Those 'undead' dead cells are the same. In this zombie stage, they are like those frozen microorganisms. Irie-senpai said if we can kill or render the protein unusable, we might be able to revert those cells back to living cells. The zombies can then be reverted back to humans.

 First ten testing did not work. The eleventh test, the zombie's cells turned to normal cells but it remained in coma. The twentieth test, the zombie woke up as human once again.

 After two hundred tests and a year of observation, we finally confirmed that it is successful.

 The first person who received the cure serum was Yamamoto Takeshi.

 He woke up 10 days after the jab and I saw Hibari cry silently at the side while Sawada grabbed Yamamoto sobbing.

 They both smiled.

 05/05/2950

 We spread our findings and information worldwide--now no one is killing zombies but capturing them to be taken back to the lab for revival. In another 2 years’ time, I doubt there'll be anymore two legged zombies.

 The sky was still red, everything was still red, but the progression of the redness seemed to have stopped three years ago. It was good news. Now, everyone is targeting how to reverse engineer the mutations of nature. It was the hardest part, but it was alright, I believe that we can manage it.

 After all, did we not succeeded in bringing back humanity?

 Cough. Let's not talk about this.

 It's Hibari's birthday. He had wanted a quiet birthday with Yamamoto and Sawada, apparently, but both of them wouldn't let him have it and organized a party with everyone they know. They even invited me under the reason that I've helped them so much all these years. I wonder if they truly thought so, and not because they wanted someone sane to watch over them?

 So, it was a party. A wild one. One that would end with Hibari biting everyone to death, but he didn't. I guess he missed the chaos during the silence he lived in when the apocalypse started. He tolerated all of us.

 The highlight of the party was probably this:

 Yamamoto actually proposed to the both of them. Sawada broke down crying while Hibari.exe actually broke. Hibari had frozen in spot for so long everyone suspected his soul had ran away. Until, of course, Yamamoto pulled him into a long kiss that ended up being a three way make-out with everyone whistling and jeering.

 "Get a room!" I seconded that notion, Gokudera.

 They didn't actually get a room of course; the party must go on with the protagonists. But it was a great party. Everyone was so happy.

 I feel so happy for them.

 Well, I'm very tired now after hauling all the drunks back home, so I'm going to pen off. I'm not sure when I'll write again, but yeah, see you soon.

 Signing off,

S.

-----------------------------------------

A/N:  A SPECIAL THANKS TO KHR RAREPAIR DISCORD PEEPS FOR THE TITLE thenkew morcai senpai :3 <3

Hehehehhehehhe I loved writing this day entry the most. Maybe because its easier for me to write??

I'm finally free from the clutches of studying!!!!!!!!!!! Can finally post and write stuffs hngh.

Hope yall had fun with reading this!

[I apologize for any grammar, spelling, etc. etc. mistakes]