#audibly did a single cry when i got this ask

[triona-tribblescore]

HUG!?!

IM- IM- IM- *SOBS*

[ms-demeanor]

So Large Bastard went into the hospital for transplant evaluation on February 13th 2021 and that was one of the major peaks of covid and basically we dropped him off at the hospital and that was it; nobody was allowed to visit him or see him and they pretty much immediately implanted a pump in his shoulder that made it painful and difficult for him to use the phone. At that point the message we were getting was "either he'll qualify for a transplant and you'll see him again when he is released after the transplant (and the waitlist, and the surgery, and the recovery) or we'll allow you to visit him when he's dying OR he won't qualify for transplant and we'll provide his end of life care and we'll allow you to visit him when he's dying" and on like February 16th, before we knew if he'd qualify for a transplant, I got a call from the hospital saying they were putting him on a heart/lung bypass machine because the pump they'd implanted in his shoulder and the pump they'd implanted in his heart weren't doing enough (both are designed to pump blood through about six feet of human, not through about seven feet of human, so they needed a much larger external pump). They asked me if I approved this procedure because he was kind of out of it, and held the phone up to him so I could ask him if he wanted this and say goodbye - I didn't know if that was goodbye until he got woken up by the doctors after stabilizing, or goodbye until he got approved for a transplant, or goodbye until he didn't get approved for a transplant and they'd take him off the machine to say goodbye for real if they couldn't keep him alive any longer.

And then they hung up the phone and I sat at my desk and stared at my computer and went back to work because literally what the hell else could I do? I couldn't drive to the hospital, I couldn't anxiously wait to see if the doctor would come out and tell me the machine had stabilized him. They said they'd call me in three hours with an update. So I took some orders and placed some calls and responded very politely to emails until I got off the clock at 5:30.

I had texted one of Large Bastard's friends who I'd been calling a lot and asked if we could meet up so I could explain what was going on so he could pass that info on to their radio nerd club. We were meeting up in the parking lot of an ihop because it was an easy outdoor location to describe to him when I wasn't actually capable of processing things like "addresses" or "street names" and I drove over to the ihop and at the red light for the left turn to go into the parking lot I fucking lost it. Like. I don't do the "hysterical crying" thing often but when I do, boy do I. I was in my truck with the windows rolled up and music on and I was sobbing so hard that it shook the truck and the crying was audible from outside the car.

I know it was audible from outside the car because a homeless man came up to my window and knocked and when I rolled the window down he told me "you're okay girl, you got this, it's gonna be alright" and I kind of nodded at him and sobbed at him and waved at him as he kept crossing the street and my light changed and I turned into the parking lot.

By the time my friend got there I had calmed down and stopped crying and through the entire rest of the process I never lost it in quite the same way; they took Large Bastard off the lung bypass part of the machine a day later and he was awake when they approved him for the transplant list, and a few days after that they started allowing a single, masked, socially distanced family member to start visiting patients in the transplant ICU for two hours a day, so I was able to come see him and he immediately said "look I have abs" and pulled his gown aside to show me that he'd lost so much weight as his body tried to eat itself to stay alive that he did, in fact, have an eight pack. And we laughed about it. It was uphill from there. It was never as hard for me as it was in the few hours after that phone call.

And in those few hours there was one dude who happened to be walking by who was kind enough to try to offer comfort to a complete stranger and I think about him all the time.

[lysil7777]

Yan! Dom! Fem! Reader x Sub! Boy

"P-please just.. just leave me alone!" James whimpered, tears welling up in his brown eyes, cheeks and ears flushing

"Aww what's wrong Jamie? Are you gonna cry? Did I hurt your feelings? Do you need your Mommy? You lean in to bite his ear and then whisper "I could be your mommy~"

Jamie hated himself for being unable to stop the moan that came out when you nipped at his ear and hated himself even more for letting you bully and harass him everyday.

When Jamie started college he swore things would be different from high school, he'd be more social, more motivated, and less shy. But 3 months later and the only person he talked to on a daily basis was you.

The first time you two met was in class, he'd braved up the courage to ask you for a pencil, he didn't really need one but he was trying to get out of his comfort zone.

You obliged but only after teasing him a bit asking what he'd give you in return, he got all embarrassed not knowing how to properly return your banter, and offered to pay you which you found very amusing. After a few more interactions you started to grow very fond of the nerd who sat behind you in Calc and before you knew it he was always on your mind.

The way he'd get embarrassed and look away from you when he didn't know what to say, the nervous habits he had when he was out by himself, how kind he was without anyone noticing, he was your adorable little specimen, for you only. And of course the best part was how naughty he could be, oh he was so innocent at the same time tho. You'd lost count of the number of times you'd watched him through his window, jerking it to soft domme porn, pet play, degradation, and dumbification, he was a pervy little nerd but the shame he felt afterward made you want to climb through his window and show him how much more depraved you were.

"What are you talking about y/n, I'm older than you that doesn't even make sense" he rambled looking anywhere but your eyes that were boring into his skull. God why did you have to be so close, why did you have to smell so good and be so pretty and-

His thoughts were cut off when you grabbed his chin and made him look at you directly

"I just think you're the kind of guy who needs direction, someone to help make those difficult decisions a sweet pet like you can't really decide for themselves, and why should you, that pretty little head of yours shouldn't have to worry about a single thing" you cooed squishing his cheeks together and making his lips push out

"I'm eighteen y/n, I can make my own decisions" Jamie argued or tried to through squished lips

At 5'3" you stood an entire nine inches under Jamie, but that didn't make him feel any less small in your presence

Letting go of his face you took a step back pretending to think for a moment "Alright then, I'll let you choose. Give me your number or get wedgied."

Jamie stood there dumb for a second, pants growing tighter and his skin warmer

"W-what?" He laughed nervously

Pulling his face closer to yours by the collar of his shirt you repeated your earlier statement to him in a slow demeaning manner, as if he was brain dead

"Give me your number or you get boo boo, oh no!" Your lips turned down in faux sadness

Jamie wasn't sure what to make of the situation, you usually weren't this physical with him, he was a little scared but mostly turned on. He didn't want to admit it but he had the teeniest tiniest crush on you and he blamed the stupid porn he'd been watching but he only looked into it because of you!

"I-I don't.." he paused

On one hand, he wanted to give you his number but on the other hand he'd never thought getting wedgied sounded so appealing

"You don't hmm~? Well, that just won't do. What happened to my big tough guy? Who was so strong and independent? Do you know darling? Ah, of course you don't. You're just as clueless as a little puppy dog and as cute as one too <3"

The new nickname shocked Jamie and caused him to audibly gasp, his hard-on fully visible now

"You can't j-just-aghhh"

You gripped him by his hair to cut him off

"Oh is puppy trying to give the orders now? What a silly little mutt you are, you really don't know how this works do you? The tent in your pants suggests otherwise but here you are telling me what I can and can't do with my property"

"I-I'm not yours y/n! A-and I'm not a pervert!!"

That first statement made your blood boil and you didn't even realize that you'd pushed Jamie down to his knees

"A good dog doesn't speak, a good dog gets treats and rewards but you're not being a good dog, Jamie. I know your tiny brain might not have comprehended it yet but you are mine, you're only mine. Who else is gonna talk to such a pervert hm? You were made for me, nobody else should ever see you like this, in fact, nobody ever sees you the way I do."

Before he could get a word out you pinned him to his position by placing your shoe on his clothed dick and reached over him to grab his boxers. Putting pressure on both simultaneously had him squirming and letting out the most sinful moans that made you wanna take him right then and there.

"Y-nnnnnnn" he whined, grinding up to help release some of the tension but each movement made the fabric between his ass more uncomfortable

"Shhh puppy, this is the punishment you've been given, I wouldn't be a very good owner if I didn't discipline my pet, you just gotta learn how to be good for me mkay? Don't you wanna learn how to be good and get rewards and pets and walkies~?"

All the new sensations made Jamie's head spin, his body felt like it was burning up from the inside out, his head was fuzzy, his dick was so much more sensitive than it had ever been while he was touching it and he couldn't place why the slight uncomfortableness of the wedgie made his parts throb even more, the whole situation was so intense poor boy couldn't fully wrap his doggy brain around it.

"I-I'm so close y/nnn, oh godd please, give me more! 'M so closeee" he panted not caring how pathetic he looked

"Already? Such a greedy pup for me hehe~ Have you learned your lesson, Jamie? Do you even deserve to cum against the bottom of my shoe?" You sang in a taunting manner pressing down even harder with your shoe

"I-, aghhhhh ohh yess fuck, YES! I'm yours y/n only yours! Promise! I'll-uggghh I'll be-hah hah- good! Just for you!"

"Atta boy! That wasn't so hard was it pup?" Finally letting go of his underwear you continued to let Jamie grind against your foot until he got to the edge

"M- boutta...cum!!" At this point, Jamie had grabbed your leg, chin resting on your thick thigh, eyes teary and glazed over staring up at you as if you were a goddess

Softly cupping his face you lifted it off your leg and removed any contact from his dick causing him to let out strings of breathy and high-pitched whines

You sat down and pulled him into your lap, gently wiping away the fresh fallen tears off his face

"W-*hiccup*why y/n, was so close...so close"

His protest died down with a stern look from you

"You'll be alright puppy, I promise. I'm gonna take care of you from now on, you are mine after all"

The rest of the evening was spent holding your new puppy, rubbing his tummy and flustering him with all the soft attention you gave him

He couldn't believe he got so lucky as to experience you, and as long as he considers being owned and expected to heed your everyword, he was lucky!

End <3

[carmenberzattosgf]

the long awaited spanking blurb

Content warnings: dom/sub dynamics, heavy spanking

I cannot get the brain rot for this out of my head. I was going to write a full fic for it first that includeded subspace but imma just do a spanking blurb for now to free myself from the thoughts… so basically stay tuned for this to be expanded

You did the thing that pisses off Carmy the most. You talked back to him during service in front of everyone. It was over something stupid, really, but your stubbornness got the best of you. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. The look on Carmen’s face was enough to shut you up for the rest of the night.

The car ride home is silent, dead silent. Carmy hasn’t said a word to you at all, and you don’t dare try and talk to him. You’re well aware you screwed up. You just aren’t sure what he’s going to do with you.

Carmy remains wordless as he parks the car in front of his apartment and heads to his door. You follow quickly behind him, watching as he digs in his pocket for his keys. Once he gets the door open, he walks straight to the couch to sit down, expecting you to close the door and lock up for him.

As soon as Carmy hears the lock click, he speaks in a firm, unwavering tone from where he sits on the couch. “Take off your clothes.”

His tone sends chills down your spine. He’s really fucking pissed. You walk towards him, standing right in front of the couch. “Carm, I’m—“ you begin to apologize, but Carmen doesn’t let you finish talking.

“I’m not going to repeat myself. Take them off. Now.”

“Y-yes, sir.” You remove your clothes as fast as you possibly can, not wanting to make him wait. You watch as Carmy sits up straight on the couch, slightly parting his knees.

“Bend over my lap,” he commands. Your legs move quickly as you bend over on his lap with your eyes facing the ground. His left hand hooks around your waist to steady you. His right hand rests right above your ass, lightly soothing the skin. “You were bad today. Talked back to me in front of everyone.”

“I’m sorry, Carmy. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fucking obvious you weren’t thinking. How can I expect those people to listen to me when my own girlfriend won’t do what I ask of her? You know better than that. I’ve taught you better.”

“It’ll never happen again. I promise.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure of that. You’re going to learn your lesson. I’m giving you fifteen spanks.”

“Fifteen?” you audibly gasp at the number. He has never punished you with so many spanks. The max before had always been less than ten.

“And you’re going to count every single one of them. If you mess up, I’ll add another one. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.” Not even wasting a second, Carmy’s hand strikes your ass. He’s not starting off easy. “Shit! O-one.” The next two spanks come one after another, hitting at different spots. Your body jolts in his grasp from the impact of each hit. “Two. Three.”

Carmy doesn’t give you time to think in between the strikes of his hand. Each one comes down harder than the one before it. The only sounds in the room are your strangled whines and the sound of his hand against your ass. You manage to count pretty well at first, but it gets harder as the heat between your legs increases.

“Are you getting wet right now?” He says before spanking you once more.

“t-ten.” It’s all you can say. Stringing together a sentence seems impossible.

“Are you already so stupid you can’t count and answer my question?” Carmy’s hand grips your raw skin as he spreads your legs to see for himself. He scoffs when he sees the wetness pooling between your legs, starting to make a wet spot on his pants. “You’re fucking dripping. You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Even my hands spanking you turns you on.”

He hits your ass twice in quick succession in the exact same spot. You cry out from the impact. Your skin is throbbing. “Eleven— Carm, please.” You beg, not quite sure what you’re asking.

“That was twelve. I guess you can’t even count right anymore. Now, I’m going up to sixteen.”

You tremble in his lap, holding onto his legs with a death grip. At this point, he’s lightened up on the force behind his hand. Carmy also directs some of the strikes on your upper thigh to give your ass a break. It’s completely raw from the spankings, red and pulsing with heat. You’re barely holding on when he delivers the last strike.

“S-s-sixteen—“ you gasp. Tears run down your cheeks as Carmy rubs the skin of your upper back.

“You did good, baby. You took that so well. Such a good girl. You just needed a little punishment to remind you who you listen to, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir. I’m so s-sorry Carm. I didn’t mean to make you so mad,” you speak through sobs. “I-I shouldn’t have done that I’m so sorry—“

“Shhh—baby. Calm down. I’m not mad at you anymore. You made a mistake and got punished for it. It’s all okay now. You don’t have to apologize again. I know you didn’t mean to upset me. Let me help you sit up, yeah? Need to see your face.”

With Carmy’s help, you sit up in his lap to face him. His hands cup your face, wiping the tears away with this thumbs. You get emotional in times like this, especially when Carmy looks at you with such adoration like he is right now. “I love you, Carm.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Can I take care of you now? I wanna make it all feel better.”

“Please. P-please. Need it,” you beg, feeling the his hard cock underneath you.

“I’ve gotcha. I’ll take care of you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah im sorry for leaving this here but i gotta have room to expand on this idea later. Hehehe so expect a more full length one shot with all of this once again and more soon!!

[cloudysleepingzone]

"We're starting over, and I love you darling"

Contents : Dazai x reader Angst, one sided love(?), reader is bad at coping, this was rushed. Writing gets crappy near the end but yk

Enjoy :D

"Hurt again..?" Dazai nods lightly while taking a seat on the most of the time uncomfortable hospital style bed. It wasn't that uncommon for Dazai to get hurt, he was always reckless if he ever got to into a mission and would end up getting scratched, cut, stabbed, or even shot. But that was your job. You were supposed to be someone who would generally heal those in the Port Mafia but at this point you were Dazai's personal nurse. He didnt want to be healed by anyone else it seemed. Even as he feels like sting of rubbing alcohol against his forearm, his bandages already moved to the side. "You should be taking better care of yourself..." You mutter barely audible. Dazai liked your attention. The way your finger tips flide across his bandaged skin and you repair his broken body. He loved it. But he would never admit it. He can't admit it to you, not when he will one day leave the Mafia. He would leave you.

He left without a word to anyone. Not Chuuya. Not anyone. Not you. No matter how badly Dazai may have wanted to leave at least a note or something in memory of him. He knew it would be a bad idea. But his sudden disappearence got you thinking. Did he just abandon everything? Everything he's known for so long? There was a stupid painful ache in your chest and you try to silently shush it as if it'll listen. That ache continued. It became the normal thing you would wake up and fall asleep too. The ache was no longer painful. If anything it was more numbing, you could still feel things sure. But something in your mind told you everything would be better if you couldn't feel anything at all than feel this.

Your first time seeing Dazai again...wait no that was a dream. Was this time real...? It's hard to tell anymore, anything even regarding Dazai felt like either a lie or some sort of sickening dream. This time it wasn't. The streets of Yokohama became covered in a heavy rain, luckily a large umbrella sat in your palms. The light taps of your shoes are soon accompanied by a second pair...with the sudden feeling of a hand on your shoulder you turn around. It's him. He doesn't look much different, though he was much taller, the bandage covering his right eye now gone and is covered by a beige coat instead of the rememberable black. Not a single word is spoken, just you, him, and the crashes of rain against concrete.

"Dazai...?" Is the only word that slips from your lips as you look at him. His hair was soaked by the rain, apparently he didn't care enough to have an umbrella. The thought of getting sick probably didn't even cross his mind. "It's been a while hasn't it?" He says it so casually. How the fuck can he ask that so casually. "Where the hell have you been." Your words are like a small blade cutting into his skin. Sharp and painful. "That would take while to explain fully to you-"

"You left without saying anything." You don't let him finish, you just want answers. "You left with saying a word Dazai...you could have at least told me something before you just disappear like that! I thought you could have gotten hurt or-" your lips cut you off, clear drops pooling the bottom of your eyes as you quickly wipe them away, the grip on your umbrella tightening. No way you could let him see you cry, not during the first meet in years.

"Didn't think you'd end up this worried about me, did I really mean that much?" Dazai seems genuinely surprised. True, you two were good friends, you always treated his wounds. But surely you wouldn't miss him that much right? Those were his thoughts before he left, he believed no one would care if he simply disappeared without a trace. No matter how badly he may have wanted to leave a letter in your medical cabinet for closure.

Heavy rain pouring onto the street continues. All you want is to talk to him as if he didn't leave you behind for years. So instead you grab onto the front of his coat and pull him under the umbrella with you. "Your going to get sick if you stay in the rain any longer..."

You two weren't that far apart anymore, not in the way you have been for the past few years. You can feel his arms loosely wrap around your waist, looking into your eyes. Almost lovingly...

"I know we've just seen each other after all this time but...can I try to make it up to you? There's something I wanted to do before I left but I was to much of a coward." You nod your head to the question, you don't know what you agreed to but you want whatever it may be. Dazai's hands move up from your waist, placing them onto the soft flesh of your cheeks. You don't give him time to respond, your lips slamming into his in an almost desperate attempt to make him hurry up. He kisses you back with almost the same eagerness. This is what he wanted to do before he left for good...? He really wanted to kiss you like this?

Such a sweet kiss, a desperate, but sweet kiss. You can only hope for more...

But your vision becomes a blur, everything around you coming to a pause but the sounds of rain and everything goes black. You eyes crack open to a ray of sunlight getting into your eyes, pushing away the soft blankets you shift to the edge of your bed with a yawn. Another night passed, and another dream similar to the last. You can only hope for it to be real at some point. Afterall, you've only seen him at s distance and through windows. Chuuya had seen him again already, but you still hadn't heard his words, or have met his eyes.

Maybe one day. You'll be able to face him again.

[tazzertopia]

phantom troupe negative traits/habits hcs

*i’m aware that being thieves and murderers are already pretty negative traits but this is more related to their personality 😊😊😊

-

chrollo

-unintentionally can sound super sarcastic and condescending

-like if he’s explaining something the cadence of his voice might sound like he’s mocking you, when in reality he just sounds like that

-if you’re in a pissy mood and he’ll ask what’s wrong it kinda sounds sarcastic ?????

-he’ll see you crying and be like:

“are you okay? what’s up?”

and you’ll kinda just be like 🤨🤨🤨 i’m literally crying ???????? what do you MEAN “what’s up?”

-he’ll apologise for sounding sarcastic but he was genuinely asking

-the troupe knows that’s just how he sounds but anyone who doesn’t know him that well just thinks he’s being a prick

shalnark

-literally has zero social awareness

-considering he sees other people as toys, he doesn’t give a single fuck about randos in public

-he’s the type to have a loud conversation on speakerphone on a busy, crowded train filled to the brim with tired people who just got off their 9-5 and want to go home 💔

“hello? yeah, of course i can talk! so today i was-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP”

“…..anyways so-“

-is always confused as to why people are glaring at him but like i said, he really couldn’t give one

-he also probably sees someone who’s about to doze off or looks visibly irritated and will make it his mission to piss them off as much as possible and strike up a conversation with them

phinks

-extremely sore loser

-if you’re playing a game with him (like mario kart) and he’s about to lose, he will walk away right then and there and quit

-will claim the game is rigged and that’s why he was about to lose (if he wins, he will rub it in and tell you to just improve at the game)

-the troupe audibly groans whenever he asks to join in when they play video games

-one time he unplugged the tv when he lost a game against feitan and shalnark (if he doesn’t win, NOBODY gets to win)

-will claim the other person cheated if he loses

“COME ON!! SHALNARK PROBABLY HACKED THE GAME OR SOMETHING, MAKING ME LOSE!”

“…have you ever considered that maybe you just suck at the game?”

*throws remote at tv*

-just let him win if you want to have a easy breezy life

uvogin

-absolutely zero volume control

-he’s loud in public, but he’s completely unaware how loud he’s being

-this also makes him the worst person to tell secrets to

*pspspspswhisperwhisperwhisper*

“YOU THINK HIS HAIRLINE LOOKS LIKE THE MCDONALDS SYMBOL?”

everyone is staring. the man with the weird hairline you tried to whisper to uvo about is staring. you are extremely embarrassed. you want the ground to swallow you whole.

-to add insult to injury, he also points.

-because of this, it’s super easy to tell when he’s talking about you because he will yell AND point

-he doesn’t gaf who hears

shizuku

-the most brutally honest person you’ll ever meet

-doesn’t sugarcoat anything

-it’s not like she wants to hurt your feelings, but she just doesn’t see the point in beating around the bush or lying

-if she thinks you look fat in something, she’ll tell you. if she thinks you don’t suit a certain colour, she’ll tell you. if she thinks your cooking tastes like actual dookie left out to cook in the desert sun, she will not hesitate to tell you.

-she also will not apologise if she hurts your feelings

-“why do i need to apologise for being honest?”

-she is winning the idgaf war 100%

-will probably forget what she said as well, which makes it worse

feitan

-rather than ask to borrow something of yours like a normal person, he will steal it and then proceed to gaslight you when you confront him about it

-makes sense for him due to his ‘thieves take what they want’ mentality

-will have you convinced that your memory is patchy

“feitan where the fuck are are my scissors?”

“beats me.”

“i know you took them.”

“did not.”

“they were on the counter like five minutes ago and you’re the only one in here”

“no they weren’t.”

-this will carry on until you admit you were wrong for accusing him, or you just drop it

-occasionally he will start drama with the other troupe members by stealing their shit (usually phinks) and making it seem like someone else did it

nobunaga

-quite possibly the most indecisive man you’ll ever meet

-you’d much rather prefer to get sentenced to eternal torture at guantanamo bay than have to ask nobunaga what restaurant he wants to go to later tonight

-“my mind will be made up by tonight, i swear!”

-it wasn’t.

-he’s one of those annoying indecisive people who will insist that you choose, but will get mad if you don’t choose the option he secretly sorta preferred

“i can’t decide between place a or b, you choose!”

“place b”

“really? place a looks much more classy”

“THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU PICK PLACE A?!”

-you’re convinced he’s only acting like this to piss you off, but he’s just like that

-in the end, you have to force him to flip a coin or else he wouldn’t get anywhere decision-wise

pakunoda

-she often gets lost in thought and zones out, which results in her unintentionally staring at people for a little too long

-because of her stern resting face (or rbf), it usually comes across as her glaring at you, which feels a lil uneasy, especially if you’re not close with her

-she will apologise profusely when she comes to, but before she does she will just be looking at you like

👁️_👁️

-as well as this, she will sometimes try and touch you to purposefully see your memories if she’s a bit suspicious of you for whatever reason

-if she thinks you’re lying about something for example, she will intrude your thoughts

-she’s not a particularly touchy-feely person so it’s quite amusing to see her try and touch you for seemingly no reason out of the blue

-a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do 🤷‍♀️

machi

-despite being one of the more upfront and mature members of the troupe, she’s also the worst one for holding grudges

-like she will hold a grudge for literal ages

-there are many she’s had for so long that she can’t even remember why she was mad in the first place

-at this point it’s more about keeping a streak than actually being mad

-best case scenario is that she forgets about it altogether or else best believe she will NOT be forgiving you. ever.

-she’s still pissed at the old guy who stepped on her toes by accident two years ago. and the waiter who tripped and dropped the tray on her eight months ago. or the questionable comment hisoka made last week.

-talks about getting vengeance on those she holds grudges against but can’t even remember who they are or what they did

“i swear i will find them, wherever they are, so they will get what’s coming to them.”

“that’s nice and all, but WHO are they and what did they do?”

“….. it’ll come to me soon hold on..”

-feels incomplete without holding a grudge against someone

franklin

-his big ass does NOT look where he’s walking and will bump into anything and anyone

-don’t expect him to apologise tho

-“apologise? maybe you should watch where you’re going.”

-don’t even try to fight him on this

-doesn’t see it as his duty to move out the way, but the duty of those around him

-the absolute NERVE

-the only reason why no one confronts him about it is because he’s tall and big as hell

-don’t die for getting bumped into

bonolenov

-one thing about him is that when he’s mad, he’ll give people the SILENT treatment

-heavy on silent

-could go for centuries if he wanted to

-and trust he’s a pro at keeping it up

-he doesn’t gaf if you’re in danger, he’ll keep on giving you the cold shoulder

-he won’t stop because he feels bad, but because he just can’t be bothered to keep ignoring you

-he will randomly just start talking to you again one day and will act confused if you question why he’s taking to you again after so long

-he won’t apologise for it tho 💯

kortopi

-his minuscule ass is always stepping on everyone’s trotters

-honestly sometimes he does it out of spite and will give look at you like 👁️ if you confront him

-there’s not much to say about him except he will sometimes accidentally sometimes not step on your feet

i fear i’m missing more members but irdgaf rn so enjoy !!!!! also these are fun to write to pls pls pls give me suggestions xoxoxo

[strawwritesfic]

Kelvin!Spock x Female!Human!Reader: Mr. Right

Summary: When one door closes, another opens—perhaps the door you were meant to enter all along.

Warnings/Tags: Starship Enterprise; post-Star Trek Beyond; friends to lovers; breakup; almost kiss; counselor!reader; Star Trek: The Original Series references; Star Trek: The Next Generation references

Relationships: Spock/Reader; Spock & Nyota Uhura; past!Spock/Nyota Uhura; past!Kevin Riley/Reader

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Requester: @lovemesomeescapism

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: For once, this is not a repost for this challenge…technically. I did write a response to the prompt "Mr. Right" ages ago, but when I was reposting, I decided that the Now You See Me one shot I wrote really wasn't worth keeping. Someone on Tumblr asked me for a Spock one shot, so I slipped him in as a replacement.

It's been a really long time since I finished something new. I realize that I am rusty. This is actually several drafts into attempts to write this one shot. For the first time ever, I actually cannibalized previous drafts while trying to get the meandering dialogue and point back on track. It still doesn't feel quite "right" to me, but it's probably going to take some time before I get back in the swing of things, and I'm ready to let this one go.

Mr. Right

Throughout Terra's history, human beings had sought the comfort of white noise. Quiet droning sounds proved beneficial for many aspects of mental health in the species. As a counselor on board the U.S.S. Enterprise, you'd recommended listening to white noise to dozens of fellow crewmates and patients alike. The best way to do this in the deep space you'd all been exploring for nearly five years was to turn everything in one's quarters down until the low hum of the ship's warp drive became audible. Many of those crewmates and patients reported back to you with decreased stress levels, improved mood, and a distinct uptick in ability to concentrate. Almost all of them said they got better sleep.

Now you learned that every single one of them had lied to you.

You'd spent the better part of the evening-adjacent hours lying face-down on your sofa, trying and failing to take a nap. The scratchy, standard-issue pillow beneath your face was soaked with tears. Your chest ached. Worst of all, any attempt on your part to get your mind off what upset you just ended with you crying harder. All the while, that awful rumble went on and on and on and on relentlessly, allowing you no respite long enough to drift off and forget your current predicament.

A chime cut through your misery. You paused without so much as lifting your head. As of three hours prior, you were officially off duty for the day. Nothing required you to answer the door unless an order came down from a superior officer, and they would call first. Probably it was only Uhura coming by to check on you. Having been through her own breakup during this voyage, surely she would understand when you didn't let her inside.

The chime sounded again, and with it came a surge of possibilities flooding your mind. What if your visitor was dealing with a crisis? Cases of PTSD had been on the rise since the events on Altamid. You could hardly ignore that in favor of your own small, personal crisis. Off duty or not, your role as a ship's counselor would not allow you to wallow in self-pity when someone might need your help.

As your boots hit the floor, you pressed one sleeve of your rumpled blue uniform to the corner of each eye. The gesture wouldn't do much to disguise what you'd been doing over the course of your time off, but you felt a little steadier afterward. Breathing deeply in and out helped too—until you hiccuped. But you could prepare yourself no more. Squaring your shoulders, you stood, walked over to the door leading to the corridor, and opened it.

Just outside stood the familiar, lanky figure of the ship's science officer. The second you spotted him, you wiped your sleeve across your face with greater urgency.

"You're not one of my patients," you said, "or Uhura."

"A very astute observation, Lieutenant [L Name]," Spock replied.

A long moment elapsed during which the two of you stared at one another. Several fellow crewmates in various uniform colors threw curious looks at his back as they passed by on their ways to wherever they were headed. Your friend, meanwhile, allowed a single dark eyebrow to drift toward his hairline. He clearly had no intention of moving on.

"What are you doing here?" you sighed at last.

The wayward eyebrow rejoined its brother. "Lieutenant Commander Uhura informed me that you left your office this afternoon in distress. I note that her assessment was an accurate one. If anything, you appear to be in more distress now than she described to me then."

You couldn't lie to Spock, not when you looked the way you looked after a crying jag like the one you'd just had. So you didn't bother to try. "Fine. I'm in distress. But really, Spock, it's not the kind of distress you can help with. I'm sure Captain Kirk will need you on a landing party any minute now, so if you'll excuse me—"

"Lieutenant Commander Uhura also informed me of the cause of your distress."

"Of course she did." Sometimes you wished your two friends were a little lighter on the "amicable" part of "amicable exes." "Let me guess: You came by to tell me that you told me so."

"As a Vulcan, I have no reason to rub my correct prediction in your face, if you will forgive the Terra colloquial."

You let out a wet laugh despite yourself. "You're pardoned."

"What I have done is stopped by the mess hall. If I am not much mistaken, ice cream is a traditional consolation food in these types of situations."

He produced from behind his back a number of different colored tapes. So startled were you that you found yourself unable to say anything. Never in a million years would you have imagined Spock of all people standing in front of you and offering you junk food of all things. Your silence went on for so long that he had to prompt you to speak:

"Was I incorrect in my understanding of how to handle Terran breakups?"

"No," you said, then, "I just didn't want you to find out about the breakup until I could pull myself together."

"I surmised as much, given that Lieutenant Commander Uhura found out about your circumstances before I did, although you and I are closer friends. It would have been more logical for you to contact me for assistance than her."

Vulcans as a whole were difficult to read. Even factoring in your education and training, as well as your friendship with Spock that had gone on for several years now, you could only guess his feelings the majority of the time. Not so then. Something about his tone made him sound hurt. Maybe you could chalk that up to projecting your own feelings onto him, but you couldn't risk that assumption.

"It's just that you warned me against dating Kevin," you explained. "As ship's counselor, I should have seen the end coming a kiloparsec away."

"Perhaps. But one might also say that your extensive proximity to the crew's emotions might cause some loss in objectivity on your part."

"So you're not here to make me feel worse?"

"I came for consolation purposes. That is all."

"Well, all right, then."

You stepped away from the doorway. Spock followed you in. He paused only long enough to press the button to close the door before he came to join you in your sitting room. A crate sat on the floor along his path, and he looked at you questioningly as he walked by it.

"Those are Kevin's things," you said.

"Expedient," he observed.

Normally, you might have tried to go for a little more decorum around him, but that day you didn't have the energy to do more than flop back onto your couch. At least you were upright. Spock, on the other hand, claimed a dignified perch at the end of your chair. The two of you certainly made an odd pair.

"He had so many hair products!" you burst out when the awkward silence turned unbearable. "I should have known we wouldn't work out. Who brings that much hair spray into deep space?"

"Humanity can hardly be expected to iron out all its flaws when you all cling so hard to your baser emotions."

"Do you mean Kevin's desire to look nice, or my need to be in a relationship?"

Spock blinked, then smoothly said, "In this case, I refer to your former beau's preoccupation with personal grooming."

"Right. Either way, I'm about ready to get rid of all my own baser emotions. Not feeling them would be a blessing." You got back to your feet and thrust one hand in Spock's direction. "Ice cream tape, please."

He offered one to you.

"Spock," you said warningly.

"I do not believe that heartbreak is an excuse to overeat. I only brought so many because I was unsure which flavor you would select."

The glare you leveled at him seemed to make him think better of lecturing you on the dangers of gluttony—as well it should have. This was the same glare that you gave Dr. McCoy when you were tired of listening to him. Unlike with Dr. McCoy, you smiled once Spock dropped the rest of the tapes into your outstretched hand.

"Thank you." You headed for your in-quarters food producer, then turned your head to ask over your shoulder, "What flavor do you want?"

"I do not require ice cream."

"Come on, Spock. If you're going to spend the evening commiserating with me, you have to have some ice cream, too. That's a critical part of the Terran breakup process."

One corner of his mouth twitched. "I'll have pistachio, then."

You fed the yellow-green tape into the slot. A quiet beeping noise covered the hum of the warp drive as the computer worked. While you waited, you flipped through the remainder of the flavors until you found the one you wanted.

"I don't think it would be a good idea for you to give up emotions," Spock said.

"Huh?" Frowning at him, you replaced his tape with yours. "Aren't you the guy that's been talking about doing the Kolinahr when we get back to Earth?"

"That's different. I am a Vulcan."

"Half Vulcan."

"Vulcan enough."

A shriller beep put an end to this potentially sticky subject. The ice creams were ready. You dumped the rest of the tapes in a basket next to the food producer, picked up the bowls, and brought them back to the living room. Spock took his with a grateful nod, though he waited until you sat down again before taking a bite.

"Maybe I'd be a better counselor if I didn't have emotions," you mused. "If I wasn't blinded by my own feelings, I could help the crew more with theirs. I shouldn't have the same problems as they do after all the studying I've done."

"While that may indeed make sense, it is hardly realistic. Besides, if you did not have your human emotions, you would no longer be the [Name] that I know, and I believe that I would miss her."

You couldn't help but smile around the spoon in your mouth. Popping that out, you said, "I bet you say that to all the Terrans you like."

"Hardly. In fact, that captain may benefit from an hour or two without his usual emotions."

"I appreciate you saying that, Spock."

"I am only speaking the truth. I have no intention of bolstering your ego artificially, even if doing so is a part of the Terran breakup process."

"I know." You slowly lowered your spoon back to the bowl, staring off into space. Something was dawning on you—something that might have dawned on you sooner had you not been so enthralled with your own feelings. "You know what else I appreciate? You coming here to help me today. Not every first officer would go out of their way for a ship's counselor like that."

Spock fixed you with an unblinking gaze as he said, "You mean a great deal more to me than most ship's counselors mean to their first officers."

"I don't care what Captain Kirk says. You sure know how to make a woman blush."

"I have had some practice with the activity."

"Remind me to thank Uhura later."

"Thank her for what?" Spock asked.

Maybe you were reading the signs wrong. Maybe you were just desperate. If he had to ask, you had to be wrong. But you took a deep breath anyway, and said, "Helping me realize that maybe the guy I've been looking for this whole time has been my best friend all along."

How could it have taken you this long to work it out? No one else spent as much time with you as Spock did, not outside of your office hours. It didn't matter if you were in the mess hall asking for a round of Fizzbin after dinner or you wanted a quiet night in your quarters. He always seemed to be there. You felt comfortable around him. Maybe you didn't always understand Spock; maybe Spock didn't always understand. But you didn't enjoy anyone's company the way you did his. And you had to wonder when your eyes met just then if he felt the same way, and if this coming-to-see-you-with-ice-cream thing was his way of showing you that.

"Well," he moistened his lips before going on, "I certainly feel that our relationship is founded more steadily upon mutual interests and desires than it is upon a passion for hair products."

You leaned forward. "You know, that sort of relationship sounds really appealing right about now."

"It does?" Spock shifted closer to you.

"I think it's about time that I dated someone whose first thought in the morning isn't beating me to the sonic shower, don't you?"

By that time, you both had come so close that it wouldn't have taken much more movement on either of your parts to touch lips. Your heart gave a painful leap inside your chest. Was this too much too fast? Even if you had just realized you'd had a thing for Spock for a while now, you had only just broken up with your last boyfriend that morning. Treating Spock as a rebound was the last thing you wanted to do. He didn't seem to mind, though. His mouth drew closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath on your face.

The communicator in your room chirped. You jumped. Spock paused before sitting back up in his chair. Then you rose wordlessly, stepped over to the panel, cleared your throat, and pushed the button.

"[L Name]," you said.

"[Name]?" Uhura did not remark on how breathless you sounded, thankfully. "I need to talk to Spock."

"It's for you," you said unnecessarily. Spock had already reset his face into its typical blank mask and made his way to the communicator himself.

"Spock here. What is it, Lieutenant Commander?"

"Captain Kirk needs you on the bridge. We have a situation up here."

"What kind of a situation?"

"There's a former United States President floating outside the ship. He says he needs our help."

"I will be there right away."

A second chirp signaled that communications between your room and the bridge had ceased. Spock turned back to you.

"My presence is needed on the bridge," he said.

"So I heard."

"I apologize. I believe we were in the middle of something."

"It's all right."

He didn't move.

"Spock, go. Don't you want to know why a deceased historical figure has asked for the Enterprise's help?"

"I'd prefer to stay here," Spock said. "But you are correct. I must leave. Will you still be here later tonight?"

"Yeah." You surprised yourself with the eagerness of your answer. "Yeah, I will. I promise I won't run off with any other lieutenants while you're away. I'll save the rest of the ice cream. We can share it when you get back."

There it was: The slight curl to Spock's mouth that told you that you weren't making up the mutual attraction between you both after all. "To use another Terran phrase, it's a date."

He hesitated another moment longer before he quickly exited your quarter. You grinned as the door slid shut behind him and the white noise returned full force. As you sunk into your couch and pillow this time, you found you didn't mind the hum as much. In fact, the sound did exactly what it was supposed to do: Relax you. Kevin and his excuses from that morning felt farther away than your own home planet. Maybe you owed him a thank you, too, because if you were still with him, you wouldn't have slept as well as you did that night knowing that Spock would be back soon.

[secndlife]

[2:22am]

It was late. 

It was so fucking late and Soonyoung had no idea why his doorbell was ringing. When did people lose their manners? Did their parents not teach them that they shouldn’t show up at someone’s house at - he paused for a second to check the clock on his nightstand - 2:22am? 

When it started, he didn’t immediately get up. He hoped it would be just teenagers pulling a not-funny prank. Soonyoung didn’t have a stick up his ass. He usually understood the humor of ringing a stranger’s doorbell. But not today. Not at this hour. Not when he just managed to fall asleep. 

He waited for the first couple of rings to calm down, but that didn’t happen. They just kept coming and coming and coming. Soonyoung had to get up and make it all stop. This would soon wake Haru, the cute toddler from 17B. He didn’t want that.

Gathering every little bit of strength he had in his body, battery closer and closer to shutting down, he removed the blanket from his body. Soonyoung rubbed his eyes while he sat up on his bed, sighing in frustration.

Two seconds of silence.

Nope. Still there.

A loud groan escaped him as he finally stood up, plaid pajama pants hanging low on his waist and torso exposed. Despite being about only 10% awake, Soonyoung knew he couldn’t open the door half-naked. The first thing he saw was a white long-sleeved shirt thrown by the end of his bed, which he put on before making his way down the hallway. 

His eyes were barely open and his footsteps were heavy. The noise had calmed down a little, the ringing of the doorbell being replaced by incessant knocking. Jesus fucking christ. He just hoped that, whoever this was, they had a really good reason to be doing this to him.

Soonyoung didn’t know what he was expecting when he opened the door, but what he saw wasn’t it.

“Hi,” you said, voice a tiny bit slurred. You were dressed up, and he assumed you went there straight from the club. Your mascara was smudged, but not to the point where he thought you had been crying. You had a little grin on your lips, which were still painted red, even though the lipstick had started to fade.

He thought you looked incredible.

Despite still being slightly annoyed and half asleep, Soonyoung was physically incapable of not smiling at the mere sight of you. “Hi?”

“Can I come in?” You asked, acting as if you didn’t know the answer. He had never not allowed you in his space - physically or in any other way that could possibly mean.

He could see you were drunk - or maybe tipsy was a better word - and he was struggling to understand why you had ditched your friends during a night out and ended up at his place. The last text Soonyoung got from you, which had been over two hours ago, had a silly selfie and reported you were having fun. 

When you knew someone for more years than you can count on two hands alone, you just… knew them. Especially if you’re as close as the two of you were. Soonyoung could read you like a book, anywhere, anytime. Yet, now, it was like you were a puzzle he had never seen a single piece. 

Soonyoung moved to the side to give you space, a small giggle escaping him, “Yeah, sorry.” You passed by him and he could still smell your perfume. He bought it for you years ago and you never stopped using it. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh!” There was no wavering in your voice. No signs of distress. Nothing. “Yeah, all good.” 

You walked around his place as if it were your own and he loved it. You sat down on the couch while Soonyoung still stood somewhat awkwardly by the now-closed door. 

“You know I love you and I mean this in the nicest of ways but,” he scratched the back of his neck, “why are you here?”

Thinking about it now, it all seemed so stupid. So simple, too. You were asked a question and you decided he needed to hear the answer, even if he wasn’t the inquisitor.

“Who are you texting?” Jihyo asked, voice loud and yet barely audible through the bass-boosted music.

The smile on your face probably made it evident, but you still responded. “Soonyoung.”

She rolled her eyes. “When are you gonna tell him?”

You didn’t know when it had happened. It wasn’t like there was a major moment that made you realize that your feelings for Soonyoung had grown further than friendship. Maybe love really was in the subtlety. 

You were pretty sure it was reciprocated. You knew him too well. You knew how he acted when he liked someone. Still, timing was important and you didn’t want to mess any of this up.

“I don’t think it’s time just yet.”

Two hours later, and once everyone had consumed more shots of soju than the average person could handle, you were all sitting by one of the booths in the club. 

“I have a question,” Yujin said, giggling in her seat, hands moving in excitement. God, you absolutely loved drunk-induced conversations. “If the world would end right now, who would you want to be with?”

But now, now that you had to explain to him why you were there, you felt like maybe this was a bad idea. So you lied.

“Just didn’t feel like going home.”

Soonyoung knew that wasn’t it. If you had a choice, you’d always prefer to go home after a night out. You had a routine for days like these - go home, shower, drink some Coke to soothe the hangover, and sleep. Not that you couldn’t do that in his place (he always kept a can of Coke in his fridge just in case), but you’d choose yours if you could. Especially as you always said his mattress was way too stiff.

But it was late and he was tired and he didn’t have the energy right now. So all he did was nod. “Wanna go take a shower?”

You smiled his favorite smile and his heart got ten times bigger. “Yes please.”

When Soonyoung found himself under the covers again, it was 3am, and you were by his side.

You had been there countless times before. Sharing a bed with him wasn’t a novelty. Still, something was different. Nothing grand, but still noticeable. 

Maybe it was you - plural you. 

You could feel it. 

Soonyoung’s curtains weren’t the best, so the moonlight managed to make its way to the sides of your face. He thought you had never looked more beautiful. Mesmerizing.

He wondered if he should tell you.

Soonyoung didn’t know when it had happened. It wasn’t like there was a major moment that made him realize that his feelings for you had grown further than friendship. Maybe love really was in the subtlety. 

Soonyoung was pretty sure it was reciprocated. He knew you too well. He knew how you acted when you liked someone. Still, timing was important and he didn’t want to mess any of this up.

So he decided it was not the time just yet.

“Comfy?” He asked, hand rubbing your arm through his tiger-printed blanket - a gift from you.

“Yeah. The mattress feels softer for some reason.” 

Soonyoung hummed in acknowledgment, a yawn escaping him right after.

Silence.

You were the one to break it seconds later. “I didn’t actually come here because I didn’t wanna go home.”

A faint laugh escaped him, eyes getting smaller as he smiled, “I know.” He brushed the hair out of your face and you could feel goosebumps forming in your arms. You hoped he didn’t notice. “Wanna tell me why?”

“It’s stupid, really.” He loved when you laughed like that. 

“Try me.”

“Fine,” you took a deep breath, biting the insides of your cheek for a moment. “We were having those drunk, sentimental conversations, you know?” Soonyoung nodded. - the two of you had shared countless of those. “And Yujin, she asked us this question.”

“Okay?”

He took some time to try and read your stare.

Oh fuck. Fuck. Were you about to—

“It was something like, if the world ended at that moment, who we’d want to be with.” 

“Oh,” another chuckle. “Interesting question.”

So maybe you weren’t about to tell him how you fell. Thank god. This just really wasn’t the time. 

Still, Soonyoung caught himself hoping you had said his name as a response.

It was your turn to nod. 

More silence. 

“My answer was you.” Your voice was soft, almost shy, barely a whisper. If Soonyoung wasn’t mere inches away, he probably would have missed it. “So I just,” a sigh, “I just wanted you to know that.”

You said it as if it was a secret. As if your friends hearing you say what you said earlier was meaningless if he didn’t hear it himself. And despite your tone, you didn’t sound hesitant. 

You weren’t gonna talk about it now. It really wasn’t the time. But when his name left your lips hours earlier, you just felt like he had to hear it. Not everything. Not yet. But that, at least. Kinda like a sneak peek.

Soonyoung smiled your smile, leaning in to place a small kiss on your cheek, lips oh so slightly brushing at the corner of yours. 

More silence. 

Did he even get it?

“Wanna know what would be my answer?” Another nod. “You.”

Maybe Soonyoung would tell you in the morning. With proper words and proper gestures. 

The way the stars in your eyes sparkled at his words gave him butterflies. So many of them. Countless. 

Confirmation.

Yeah, Soonyoung would definitely tell you in the morning.

a/n: random and absolutely not proofread and just . yeah . just very silly and cheesy :/ and kinda cute :/ i was just pretty obsessed with this soonyoung so i had to do something. it's kinda different to write him outside mmf? anyway. hope you'll like it !!!! feel free to stop by my askbox with thoughts and comments hehe

[katsukikitten]

What @strafepanzer should be insane about tonight. *Clears throat*

Single mom you at the beach corralling your kids around the waves struggling to be wonder woman when one baby is gunho ready to dive nose first into the waves and the other doesn't even want the ocean touching their toes but refuses to let you pick him up.

30 year old Katsuki, who is supposed to be relaxing, can't help but watch you, with your hair tied up nice and your sunglasses and your typical one piece because almost all moms think they need to hide what their children did to their bodies like Katsuki didn't have the upmost respect for women in general.

He doesn't see a ring on your finger but he tells himself it's the beach. He should mind his own business until you're more spirited baby rushes in while your shyer one screams their head off at the approaching wave stealing all of your attention.

The fearless, the youngest , rushes into the wave as it's about to break, sure to swallow the tyke whole and tossel them a bit too much, sure to make them scared of the water as they wash up a salty sobbing mess.

But Katsuki is quick, quicker than nature as he lands beside your kid, picking them up under their arms but not fully over his head, lifting them so that it was as if they "dove" through the wave without ever putting their head underwater. They squeal with excitement.

"Again again! Dynamight again!" This pulls your attention and you gasp audibly.

"Dy-dynamight. S-sir. I'm so sorry. She just is such a free spirit and you had to-"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, coming in a bit much to the girls dissatisfied pout, he offers to trade you kids, "I'll take this one."

He gets onto the kids level, hands on his knees, the kid takes a step back as the ocean washes over Bakugou's ankles.

"Ya see, ocean ain't that bad if ya respect her." He looks down to his feet, sinking into the sand a bit and the kid watches, "Wanna try?"

"What if- what if my shorts get wet?"

"Then yer ma will wash 'em."

"What-what about sand in them!"

"It'll rinse out under the shower."

Then the truth is uncovered as the boy leans closer and whispers into Bakugou's ear while you watch your shy son while your girl dances in the waves while holding your hand.

"What if I get stung?"

"By what, mate? A jelly?" Bakugou asks and he nods his head, Katsuki dead pans, "Then ya get stung."

Bakugou shrugs, keeping eye contact with the kid who's face quickly turns to shock.

"BUT IT'LL HURT!"

"Like hell but lissen." He turns his face and tilts his head upward to show a deep fisher across his chest and throat, "See this? Got this fighting a bad guy, knew one day I'd get hit good but that never stopped me."

"But you're a hero! You've gotta save the day."

"Nah I'm just a guy with a shit temper most days. 'Sides sometimes ya gotta be your own hero. For some people that looks like beating up bad guys, others it looks like risking getting stung by a jelly cause ya wanna feel the ocean."

The kid looks up at him for a long long time and you blink slowly thinking maybe Bakugou broke your kid especially since he didn't even try to sugar coat that this world was full of big bad things.

Katsuki holds out his hand silently and your son grabs onto his big palm with no hesitation. Almost pulling the hero from his sunken spot as the water retreats, building upon itself again to kiss the soft sand beneath your feet.

And when the water comes rushing back your son breathes quickly, like he's scared, closing his eyes.

But he lets the water rush over him. Let's it swallow him to his waist and when the water pulls away he looks up at "just some guy" and he laughs loudly.

And the sight makes you cry cause you haven't heard your baby boy cry since his daddy passed away.

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Hello! I hope your day/night is great!! Can I request for kiribaku with a male reader who they found crying in the bathroom because of stress, it was the first time they saw the reader cry because the reader is the type of person who say to others "I'm fine, nothings wrong" when they're actually not fine Take your time btw! <3

Hey! I know I've got a different ask to work on as well but this one just spoke to me today, and I've never been good at doing things in order haha!

Be warned of strong language (Katsuki's a potty mouth) and implied blood, nothing too serious though.

Let me know what you think!

Dynamight and Red Riot were a sight to behold, stampeding through the city as fast as their legs could carry them, away from the scene now under control.

A villain with an incredibly volatile quirk lost their cool in the middle of a busy shopping mall, he would've brought down the whole building if it wasn't for you.

Dynamight and Red Riot had been doing damage control outside the building, trying to get the hundreds of people to safety, they had no idea what you were dealing with inside.

The villain took a hostage, a little girl. You'd been fighting for her life for the past four hours, and though you'd won, you'd had to use more force than you would have wanted too.

That villain is barely clinging to life, the child now safe with the paramedics looking for her parents, but you, you were nowhere to be found.

It was a gruelling hour, waiting to hear from you, until Red Riot got a call from your secretary at the agency building,

You'd stormed in half an hour ago, and hadn't come out of the bathroom.

Your partners burst into the front door of the agency, checking every bathroom they passed before finding the one on the third floor, locked.

"Oi! Get this damn door open or I'll blast outta the damn wall!"

"Bakugo, chill." Kirishima placated, fighting to catch his breath after the all-out sprint to your side. "He doesn't need you yelling at him right now."

Bakugo forced himself to take a deep breath, forced himself to reign in the fear of whatever could be wrong with you. Images of you sitting at the edge of the sink, trying to stitch up your own wounds flashed through his mind. You'd done it before, and had the gall to smile sheepishly at him the whole time.

Kirishima stepped up to the door, placing a gentle hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Please let us in, baby. We just wanna make sure you're okay. You know he'll do it."

It would not be the first time Katsuki caused property damage for his boyfriends.

Eijirou tenses as he heard footsteps on the other side of the door, the boots you wore for work were sturdy, it amazed him how you could tread so softly in them.

The door eased open, but you remained out of sight until they both stepped through the door, and you slammed it shut and locked it again.

Katsuki audibly gasped at the sight of you, covered in dust and soot, thankfully no blood, but...

Streaks of tears cleaved paths through the dirt caked on your cheeks, your eyes, bloodshot and glassy, continued to pour crystalline tears, sticking to your eyelashes.

For a beat, your boyfriends are frozen. Years, years they've known you, through UA, into the pro-Hero world.

Never, never have you shed a single tear.

Or at least, not in front of them.

"Oh...oh baby." Eijirou is immediately in comfort mode, but he doesn't quite know which approach to take with you. Did you want space, to talk about it?

To your surprise, it's Katsuki who steps up with no hesitation and yanks you into his arms, gauntlets clattering to the floor as he threw his arms around you in a bone crushing hug.

You whined, buried your face in your neck, clinging to the material of his costume. His grip was tight, almost too tight, and exactly what you needed, grounding you in reality, in him, from where you'd been drifting in your worst regrets.

"You did good." He whispered softly, nuzzling into your hair. "You did so good, hero."

You stopped holding back the tremors, and Eijiro was soon at your back, enveloping you both in his big arms, pressing kisses to the back of your neck and whispering sweet nothings to you until the shaking stopped.

You lifted your head, coming face to face with Katsuki's blazing crimson eyes. He tutted at you, painfully gentle as his thumb wiped the tear tracks off your cheek.

"Tch, asshole, even when you're cryin' you're the prettiest son-of-a-bitch I've ever seen."

"Katsuki!" Eijiro chuckled even as he scolded your explosive boyfriend.

"What?" Katsuki huffed at Eijiro, cradling the back of your head and pressing a kiss to your other cheek. "I'm not wrong, see!"

Katsuki spun you around to face your other boyfriend, and you could already feel yourself smiling at their antics. Katsuki has a way of making the worst situation feel...no so bad.

He's obnoxious, but, consistent.

Eijiro, sweet, big teddy bear Eijiro, leaned down to press kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, until he'd kissed away anything remotely resembling tears. "Yup, still handsome."

By now, you can't hold back a smile, and you wouldn't want to anyway. "Thank you."

"What're you thankin' us for? You did the ass kicking!" Katsuki announced proudly, wrapping both arms around you to rest his head on your shoulder. "Seriously, babe, you did good."

You took a deep breath, let yourself lean into him. Eijiro smoothed your hair down, cradling one of your hands to his lips to kiss your bruised knuckles.

It'd take some convincing to get you to let go of the guilt, you held yourself to impossible standards, your boyfriend's know that about you.

Luckily, you're dating the two most determined men on this Earth, determined to love you, tears and all, men who think no less of you whether you announce your feelings to the world, or tuck them away to yourself.

"Let's get you home, hero."

[writer-and-artist27]

Tumblr Story: Reformed Bully

Note: For @dollya-robinprotector. Since you’re going through a rough patch, I thought some fluff would work in easing the stress.

Very light FGO/Passing Days-DOL crossover and all. Based heavily off this one ask and this comic that led me to meeting you, Dollya. :) Written as thanks for talking with me and bonding over the FGO gnomes.

Was listening to YOASOBI’s Idol when writing this. And Dr. Stone’s One Small Step.

Now if y’all excuse me, I need to sleep. More hematopathology work tomorrow.

--------------------------

By the time Vy had noticed the door show up in her room, she wasn’t surprised anymore. It even decided to appear once she had finished packing up the latest batch of magic peanut butter cookies for the Servants, but compared to the previous door, this one had—

“A silver handle…?” Unlike all of Chaldea’s sliding doors and the previous magic entrance that led to another Master’s world, this door looked almost ordinary, its white oak furnishings and matching pale silver doorknob making it look like it came out of a Home Depot. Even when compared to the white walls of her room in Novum Chaldea, the newest entryway looked… mundane. In spite of its faint glowing too.

Vy considered. Glancing down at her bags of cookies, one in particular stood out to Vy’s eye. It was a bit lopsided from including some of the bigger cookies of the batch, not to mention the rather crooked purple ribbon bow, but it was… it was apparently glowing the same faint yellow as the new door.

With one last look at the door, Vy felt herself smile wryly. “I guess… if this is glowing too… might as well try and take a chance as long as I’m not gone for too long, right? Just have to wear the right Mystic Code…”

--------------------------

“Nngh…”

“…Oh dear,” Vy said for herself when stepping through the magic door. What waited beyond it was a grassy hill, a single tree overlooking what looked like a farm, and a single man lying in the grass, asleep with—with actual tears in his eyes. It wasn’t a stretch to believe he was suffering from a nightmare in spite of the warm atmosphere around him, but add in the light thrashing and the sweat beading his forehead, Vy knew she couldn’t leave him be. 

The blond fringe of hair hiding one side of his face away from view was the last nail in the metaphorical coffin. If his hair was ginger-colored instead of blonde, then—

I want to help this person just like I help Robin. 

It was why Vy kept the one bag of cookies from Chaldea nestled close to the chest of her Decisive Battle uniform, slowly getting to her knees and reaching out with one gloved hand.

“Sir,” she whispered softly, patting his shoulder as gently as she could. Her ponytail could be pushed over her shoulder later. Right now, someone was suffering, and— “Sir, please wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

“N-Ngh—” The man groaned, nearly slapping her hand if not for Vy moving it out of the way just in time. “Lya—! Lya, I’m s—!”

“Sir,” Vy spoke more firmly, worry leaking into her voice before she realized it as her fingers reached up to pinch at his cheek. Sitting down on her knees, she said, “It’s alright — it’s over. It’s time for you to come back to reality now.”

The blond man got up with a start once her pinching registered, blue eyes wide with shock and tears once his spine made an audible crack from sitting up so abruptly. Vy immediately took her hand back, schooling her panic as best as she could once he looked at her past the haze in his blue eyes. “Lya—!” he blinked. “You’re… you’re not Lya.” His brow furrowed almost immediately, a glare settling in his eyes as he took her in. “Who are you, where did you come from, and when did you get to this farm?”

Typical, Vy thought. Outwardly, she did her best to smile placatingly, shrugging her shoulders. “Good morning to you too, good sir. I’m Vy — consider me a passerby who came through a magic door and saw someone crying in their sleep and therefore couldn’t leave them alone,” she said, pointing at her own eyes past her glasses to gesture to her newly awake companion. The “magic door” part of her statement wasn’t a complete lie, but it was enough to wipe some of the apprehension off of his face. “I’ve had experience with waking up with tears in my eyes, see.”

“…Oh.” And as soon as he said it, the man raised one calloused hand to wipe at his face, the tattooed wristband on his knuckles shining a darker shade of black with the droplets sticking to his skin with the motion. “…Did I look that much like shit?”

“Not as bad as someone who’s had the life literally burned out of them, no.” Vy said immediately, the image of the many victims of Camelot Gawain's Excalibur Galatine coming to the forefront of her mind before she pushed the thought away. That sight was just plain disgusting. “It could’ve been worse.” 

Now the man was looking at her with a completely new face. “Burned?”

She smiled and offered the bag of cookies in her arms to him instead. “Yep. I’ve seen worse than someone crying in their sleep, so you have nothing to worry about,” she answered in regards to his unspoken question, shaking her head. “Enough of debating the ‘worse’ in looks. Would you like some cookies? I have a bag right here for you.”

“…Cookies?” The man wasn’t staring daggers at her at least, but he still looked wary. “You made them?”

“With just peanut butter, eggs, and sugar, yes. They’re supposed to be ‘magic.’” Vy felt herself smile a bit wider once she could see the curiosity start to dawn on the man’s face. She offered the bag to him again, lopsided purple ribbon bow and all. “Don’t worry, I didn’t poison them and I taste-tested them beforehand. It just looked like you needed something sweet to work off the nightmare, sir.”

The man glanced at her, then at the bag in her hands, and back at her. “You… You don’t even know me,” he slowly choked out, a large drop of a tear forming in the corner of his visible eye as the blue of his iris widened to reflect her image. “You only just… you only just stumble on me, and you just—” 

Vy wasn’t sure whether to smile or just wait. She decided to opt for both while adding in an extra shrug of her shoulders. 

“I…” The man choked again, shaking his head while scrubbing at his face with his hand again. The tattoos — he had more on his other hand and even his neck — all of them looking like shackles to match his voice coming out vulnerable and raw-sounding once he said, “I hurt the woman I love. I hurt more than just her. I-I’m still scared I could hurt the family she gave me. So then, why would you—”

“What’s wrong,” Vy said quietly to cut off the self-deprecating rant, “with wanting to help someone, then?”

The man fell silent, the tear in his eye slowly growing big enough to streak his cheek as it then fell to the grass between them.

With a bit of mustered courage — from Mash, from Artoria, from Achilles, from Robin — Vy smiled a bit wider as she reached over with her left hand — glove, lotus-shaped Command Seals and all — to wipe at the man’s exposed cheek. “Hurt is just gonna happen, sir. That’s just how life is,” she said in a softer voice, ignoring the wetness starting to spread out against the fingertips of her glove as she rubbed his cheekbone as gently as she could. As Da Vinci might’ve done in her place, as the Eternal Genius. As Dr. Roman might’ve done in her place, as a medical professional — as a living human from King Solomon’s remains. “And even if I don’t know what happened to hurt you so much, what matters now is how you move forward in the face of all of it. And if you’re waking up like this, crying and worrying about how to treat the person you love even after you hurt her, I’d like to think you’re walking in the right direction.”

The man half-snorted, half-sniffled, but he didn’t slap her hand away. Instead, he weakly leaned into her palm, his other hand coming up to weakly grasp at the bag of cookies sitting between them. “…Huh.” A weak laugh leaves his lips, blue eyes teary still as he closed them for a shaky inhale of breath. “Guess I’m more fucked up than I thought, listening to a stranger and taking fucking peanut butter cookies from them.”

“I’m not a stranger when I previously said my name, sir, not to mention I offered the cookies in the first place,” Vy said plainly, but she still smiled at him. It was the least she could do. “And really — we’re all struggling in life. Might as well start somewhere. So.” She pushed the cookies into his shaking palm, forcing as much cheer into her voice as possible. “My name is Vy. What is yours, sir?”

The smile he gives her in that moment makes her think, Robin, again. Even with the ear piercings and the tattoos, his face looks bright for the first time ever in the sunlight peeking past the tree hanging over them and the farm sitting far away. “…Whitney. It’s… it’s Whitney.”

“Well then!” Vy hummed, making sure to pat his wet cheek a few more times for good measure before lowering her left hand to take his in a squeeze. “It’s nice to meet you, Whitney! Hurt and all! I have some time on my hands being a passerby, so why don’t we chat for a bit? Hopefully get the tears out of you too!” 

Because when barely anyone outside of Mash and the Servants — Robin especially — reached out when she woke up crying, the least Vy could do was make sure no one else could have a repeat experience.

[lunar-years]

Okay other misc. thoughts about 3x07

can't believe our luck at getting a perfect hour of television two weeks running!! wow wow wow like there wasn't a single bad moment??? I was grinning like an idiot at my tv screen the entire time??? I fucking love this silly little soccer show ????

in hindsight changing the name from Ola's to the Strings That Bind Us was so deeply unserious I am rolling

The Sam plot was everything and more. Toheeb's rent was DUE. the man came to ACT. and boy did he deliver!!

I appreciated that Sam didn't let Simi's type of anger/wording define his own. he was still furious, but he was furious in a way that was true to himself and his own philosophies (that said I absolutely thought, when he typed "than a world class b--," he was about to type "bitch" not bigot hvsbfjjdsv)

his dad was EVERYTHING. I am obsessed! I am so so glad we got to meet him!

that said and not to make everything about Jamie (this plot was not about him but there's still a sad parallel I'm thinking about); the contrast of Sam having a breakdown in the locker room and then having his dad there to hug him and tell him it was going to be okay. versus Jamie's locker room breakdown caused by his dad where no one knew what to say and everyone stood around (before Roy stepped up.) Yeah. That was a bit of a gut-punch.

speaking of meeting people's families: I am obsessed with Nate's. I love that we found out he has a sister!! and they are clearly very close great siblings! I love that we met his niece! I enjoyed indirectly seeing a different side of his father via the map story, and his sister's comment about how Nate is just like his father surely was loaded. I could unpack that family dynamic for days but it was SO GOOD.

Nate spending a whole evening putting together that box to present to Jade! I audibly gasped when it fell in the street! But Nate did not let it deter him. oh no! He asked her out anyway! He didn't spit in that goddamn mirror! He took a risk!!! I am honestly so freaking proud of that man.

The Jack/Keeley stuff was yikesy. definitely love bombing. To me last episode's Rebecca plot was all about Rebecca learning to trust her gut instincts again and regain faith in herself, so you know what, if she is getting ~off~ vibes about Jack, I am with her all the way. It felt like they were definitely sprinkling the seeds for the means to a quick end for them. Sigh.

i love Rebecca/Keeley friendship it is truly one of my favorite female tv friendships in years. they are brilliant, they enchant me, etc.

based off of next episode's description and title things will definitely be blowing up for Keeley & Keeley/Jack. I just can't decide if it's going to be Shandy or Barbara who's going to plant the bomb. Ugh. Maybe they will team up and be horrible together.

Jamie in that dressing room....no thoughts to say about it just that I AM SO DAMN PROUD OF MY BOY

Trent Crimm the nerdy little man you are he is the BEST addition to the series regulars holy shit

this episode was genuinely really funny and probably my favorite jokes of the season it was all around so good

THE BOYS COMING TOGETHER AND CLEANING UP SAM'S RESTAURANT. I AM CRYING REAL ACTUAL ALLIGATOR-SIZED TEARS.

perfect episode was perfect.

[johaerys-writes]

Hello! If you don't mind me asking, are you up for a WIP Sunday? I hope you have a pleasant weekend😁

Hi!! I got this ask after I'd already gone to bed (timezones 😩) so it isn’t technically a Sunday, but I can still share a snippet from the next chapter of you're a walking disaster and yet- that I've been working on :)

He reaches over Achilles to turn off the bedside lamp. They’re plunged into darkness, save for Patroclus’ tiny night light plugged into a socket next to his desk, and the glow-in-the-dark stars he and Achilles stuck on the ceiling several years back. Their glow is faint, barely there, and Patroclus has often thought that perhaps they’re too childish, perhaps he should take them down, but he never does. He likes going to sleep looking at them, remembering the day Achilles had showed up in his room with a bag full of them after Patroclus had told him that the dark scares him sometimes. He hadn’t expected it, but his nightmares did get better after that.

“Goodnight,” he whispers. Achilles says nothing, his back staring resolutely at him. 

Patroclus closes his eyes with a sigh. The single pillow they share is almost entirely covered by Achilles’ hair, but Patroclus doesn’t mind. He never does. He likes the sweet summer smell of it and how soft it feels. Sometimes, he wakes up with a faceful of it in the morning while Achilles snores quietly beside him, eyelids twitching as he dreams. In those moments, with the early morning light filtering through a curtain of gold, Patroclus thinks he wouldn't mind waking up like this every day of his life.

Achilles doesn’t know this, of course. Patroclus always makes sure to give a half-hearted protest about the unruliness of his friend’s bedhead, for good measure.

The weariness of the day tugs at him. Soon, Patroclus’s limbs grow heavier, his mind drifting slowly into sleep. His throat still feels raw from all the coughing and wheezing, but his breaths are mellow for once, not tearing at him from the inside. Having Achilles near helps; his even, rhythmic breathing always calms him down. 

He’s almost asleep, floating in a dream, when he feels the bed shake ever so slightly. Achilles’ shoulders tremble beneath the blanket, and the sniffling sound that comes muffled from the pillow is faint, yet clearly audible in the quiet.

“‘Chilles?” Patroclus mumbles sleepily, cracking open his eyes. “You okay?” 

Instead of an answer, Achilles just gives his head a jerky nod. 

Patroclus pushes himself on an elbow, rubbing at his gritty eye with his knuckle. “Are you cold?” he asks, though he knows that can't be the case. It’s a hot day’s night, and Achilles never sleeps with more than a thin blanket anyway, even in the heart of winter. 

“Just go back to—sleep,” Achilles says, hiccuping on the last word, voice thick and nasal. Patroclus’ stomach drops. 

“Are you crying?” he asks, half in alarm, half in dismay. He can’t think of what might have caused Achilles to cry in the moments since switching off the lights, but it can’t be good. 

“I’m fine,” Achilles insists, but the sob that catches in his throat as he says that is evidence enough that he isn’t. 

[tonystoy]

Mafia happyspider incest au 🤭

Happy just had his men kill Quentin, who’s been after his boy for way too long. He should’ve killed him when Peter came home crying with a ripped skirt, telling him a man tried to assault him in the bathroom at the mall, Peter being out with friends that day, he also got a few bruises on him. But it was all completely worth it for the sight before him

Peter was on his knees, wearing a baby blue thong, kissing at his father’s bulge, his own cock straining in his thong. “Thank you daddy”, he said in between kisses, Happy just groaned as he ran his fingers through his son’s hair, “No need to thank me baby, did what I should’ve done a long time ago”

He feels Peter pull out his cock, smacking it in his face, Happy breathes out heavily as his son slowly swallowed his dad’s cock. Happy eventually removed his pants entirely. He grabbed his gun, and held it close to him

Peter’s head bobbing up and down. Eventually Happy came down his throat, both of them moaning, Peter swallowing every single drop. He laid his head on Happy’s thigh as he slowly stroked him, looking at the gun, “Is it empty?”, he asked, Happy nodded as he ran his fingers through Peter’s curls

Happy was shocked at what Peter did next, and his felt like he could cum again. Peter had his lips wrapped the barrel of the gun. Peter was looking into his eyes as he quickened his pace in jerking his dad

Happy was audibly moaning, “God baby… always know how to make daddy tick FUCK”, he threw his head back. Cumming into Peter’s hand, that is how hot it was. Usually Happy takes at least ten minutes to get himself going again, but seeing his son suck on his gun, it drove him absolutely crazy

[madness-in-the-flesh]

I really like your blog. Can I have Auditor (if your okay with doing him if not Hank) with prompt 14? Have a great day!

Slowly realizing I STILL haven't written any Auditor??? Which is disgraceful?? Thank you for requesting him anon. I adore evil flame man. I believe in employer supremacy

This one is pretty short which I apologize for but I've got one bigger request coming up soon so hopefully that'll make up for it <3 <3

Auditor Prompt Drabble

GENRE - Romantic / Platonic

PROMPT - “ Darling why are you crying? I took care of the problem!” [ From this prompt list ]

TRIGGER WARNINGS - Physical Violence, Tongue injury, Kidnapping implied , Blades, Blade violence, Blood, gore descriptions, murder, possible suicide implied

“ Darling, Why are you crying? I took care of the problem!” He told you, Slowly placing a hand on your shoulder but you couldn't say a word. In reality there was no problem, The Auditor was just delusional. You flinched away, holding your mouth in horror which made him pause. His hand stayed in the position but fingers slightly outstretched. You cowered away from him. The blood dripping from the blade didn't make it any easier to even attempt to hold eye contact.

" I see " he spoke, audible displeasure draining from his tongue with every word. Just the drip, drip, dripping down, similarly to the puddle of crimson under the two of you. A new stain to remind you just exactly why you could not fight back nor just leave. Wherever you'd try to go, He would follow, find you and drag you back kicking and screaming. Personal experience had taught you that much so you'd defy him in every single way possible. He had given you rules but you could not obey. The agreement was that if you were allowed to roam, However he was the only one you could look at. Only be caught staring at him, talking to no one but him except that just made you feel horrid. He was supposed to be your one and only in his mind, ergo: you only needed him.

There wasn't a problem with you talking to other people: Socializing with others was a normal part of being a grunt. The species as a whole were a social species - genetically inclined to group together. Living in a community, or in this case: The organization of the A.A.H.W. You needed to talk to people to get around. It started small, simply with asking directions. You were testing the waters. How much could you get away with? The barrier would be broken soon enough as you soon began to get chummy with one of the agents. It was the one guarding you, Shades as red as the Auditor's own eyes. He was a nice enough guy, Never gave too much away about himself. This was most likely at the auditor's request, although on the other hand, he was a pleasant conversationalist. Never refusing you anything, again at the Auditor's request so when he saw the look on your face. The smile you gave that agent while he remained stone faced infuriated him.

He was just doing his job only to be killed by his employer. Right in front of you. Nevertheless, You continued onto the next one and the next one, until the bodies were built up high. You cared about each and every one of them. You weren't heartless and had spent nights mourning them.

You refused to let them die in vein.

He was cruel, but you were stubborn. Continuing to defy him at every turn, nothing ever went his way no matter how much he tried to be " nice ". Until he had enough. Enough of giving you chances, physically killing all those who he assumed had been the ones tricking you into talking with them. Living in the delusion that they were the problem. Up until it finally shattered. He realized the common denominator in these situations. It had to be you. When he did, Instead of someone else meeting his blade with a swift clean cut to the neck. He gripped your own tongue and sliced it from your own body. You barely registered what was happening before it was too late.

The muscle spasmed in a pool of your own blood. No matter how hard you tried to cover your mouth, the bleeding wouldn't stop. It poured out your mouth along with your own throat. You couldn't taste it anymore though but the smell of iron was overwhelming. Enough to make you throw up. The Auditor just stood there, watching with an annoyed expression. As if cutting off your tongue was simply a minor set back.

" I gave you enough chances. I will not be reattaching the limb until you have proven yourself " He said and walked away, leaving your own blood to pool around you. Finally falling to your knees. For the first time you cried for yourself, before you'd cried for others but you were so sure that you'd get away in the end. That you'd be the victor in the horrific situation fate had placed you in but maybe you wouldn't be. Maybe you had been the delusional one all this time. Had you have just been resigned to your fate, perhaps things wouldn't have ended up like this.... Or you could take a new approach and try drowning yourself in your own blood, as one final act of defiance.

[nebsstories]

The Birthday Bash

—

Authors note:

I’ve conceptualized this scenario I think about a year ago, but hadn’t found the time or inspiration to write it down until now.

This story was inspired off of @cupcakeshakesnake’s Harbor Town AU, and the contents of this story is loosely based off another story I’ve read, please DM me for more details.

—

Be me, I’m just right out of college and I have no idea what to do with my life; degree is utterly useless so I look at local businesses, wanted to find somewhere I can stay until I can get a better job. I happened to live 10 minutes away from the local rat casino known as, “Chuck-E-Cheese”. It’s better than nothing, I guess. Go in, do interview, really basic stuff; guy interviewing me asks, “When can you start?”

On that day I sold my soul to the Chuck-E-Cheese company. That day began one of the worst experiences of my life.

I started that following Monday, making $10 on the hour, so it’s okay, I guess. I spent most of my week up until Friday getting acquainted with my fellow coworkers. Free food’s also a plus, pizza’s alright but I’ll take it. I clock in that fateful Saturday morning, my manager greets me at the door, she tells me that Saturday’s are usually when it’s at its peak so we’ll be swamped today. Oh and, there’s a big birthday scheduled tonight, and all I can hear from the poor guy wearing the costume is a low, yet audible, “Fuck my life.”

I cannot even begin to imagine how awful it’d be to be surrounded by fifty or so grease coated crotch goblins all at once, all the while dying of heatstroke in a furry costume. At least the building was air conditioned, because I heard that the suit doesn’t have ventilation, meaning it’s hot as the devil’s asshole at times. I was tasked with setting up the party area, the decorations were already provided to us and the theme was apparent from the skull and crossbones.

Around 4 in the afternoon, the rush starts to die down and we get a momentary feeling of euphoric silence, relief washed over us, though we were fools to think it’d last forever. We watched as tired parents dragged out their sugar high children, as the kingdom they’d lorded over was lost to them. In the wake of their foul dominion, the arcade games became sticky and greasy to the touch, they’d stained the carpets with spilled sodas and slices of mediocre pizza, in that moment I foolishly thought, “This can’t get any worse than the hell on earth I’d just witnessed.”

4:30pm on the dot, a man steps in. He looks like the sort of boho rockstar you’d see thrown up from the peak of 80’s rock and roll, with as much swagger in his step and a cool demeanor as he greeted the girl that gives all the kids the ink stamps (which are “invisible” until shown under a blacklight).

“‘Ello, I’ve a birthday reservation for Jackie, party of 40.” He follows up.

My heart stopped, my blood ran cold as the number echoed in my mind. He did not just say 40, I thought he was bluffing so I poked my head out to get a glance. Standing behind him was an army. An army of fun sized pirates. This man brought in an entire grade level to this Chuck-E-Cheese and we were at the brunt of it all.

Before I could dip my head into my manager’s office to fake sick, the kids flood the place. Cry havoc! And let slip the dogs of war, as instantaneously, children storm the restaurant; they take to the playhouse, the arcade, the party area. The place is nearly full and bursting at the seams with them, and as we pushed on, our manager cowardly hid within the confines of the office. Meanwhile, the rest of us are panicking, chefs are stressing - their nerves pulsating and brows glistening with sweat from the amount of pizza they have to keep pumping out. It’s a madhouse, it’s anarchy!

Rockstar here isn’t doing jack shit, he’s just leaning against the wall playing guitar and waiting for it to be over. Another adult - a biker looking man, just got jumped by 20 or so children. Proudly, one boy, with a wide brimmed hat adorned by a single plumed feather and a toy monkey around his torso, holds up the poor man’s wallet. “Gents! Our hope is restored!” The other members of his crew cheer loudly, leaving the man they’d just mugged on the floor to abuse his poor aching debit card in exchange for tokens.

Outside the restaurant, I spotted Mayor Swann with his daughter in tow and a birthday present in her hand, then him taking one look at the chaos and deciding in that moment to turn around and leave. No doubt lying to his child that the restaurant had closed. Forever. No wait, take me with you, Mr. Mayor!

My train of thought was interrupted when one of the children, a boy with his hair pulled back into a ponytail asks me, “Excuse me sir, when is the show?”

Another chimes in, this one must be the birthday boy, Jack. I’d never seen a kid look this smug my entire life, “Oi, we’ve invoked the right of Parlay, we demand to see Charles Entertainment Cheese.”

I stuttered for a brief moment to regain my composure. What have I just gotten myself into? “It’s coming soon, kiddos!” Luckily, that was enough to suffice, as they’d rush back to the arcade.

Eventually the animatronic show from hell begins, the band begins playing kids songs. I don’t know what these kids were expecting, but it’s clear that the works of Scott Cawthon had done a number on their minds, as one of the children in attendance - probably the one with the slicked back ponytail, begins freaking out. One of my coworkers has to swoop in to make the kid happy. Others that were paying attention kept asking, “Where’s Freddy Fazbear?” The kids are now chanting, “Freddy! Freddy! Freddy!” I’m surprised with the pirate theme they’re not clamoring for Foxy. One chubby kid, miraculously gets up to the Chuck E animatronic, begins shaking him whilst interrogating him on the whereabouts of Freddy and his gang. He’s shaken the robot enough times where it’s god damn head FALLS OFF. Screaming ensues. I’m amazed this kid didn’t put Chuck E”s head on a pike a la Lord of the Flies, though even then I’m sure half of them will need therapy after seeing their fellow pirate brethren decapitate their beloved, cheese eating deity.

While most of the party was distracted, two of them have managed to SNEAK INTO THE KITCHEN and are stealing toppings off the pizzas. Not off the prep stations, but straight off the pizzas, I’m pretty sure half of them don’t even wash their hands. We had to remake them because we didn’t want the health department on our asses.

One of them managed to steal a whole pizza for himself and scarf it down near the ballpit. I think it was one with the wide-brimmed hat.

The birthday boy was easily the worst of the bunch; within two hours, he’d managed to hop behind the prize counter while the guy working there escaped for a bathroom break, took every miniature tote bag off the rack and used them to stuff as much prizes as he could carry. His little arms made him look like a coat rack as he waddled out from behind the corner with his treasure.

And I’ll bet you’re wondering, where was I in the chaos? Being tormented by a duo, the kid who decapitated Chuck E and another who wore an eyepatch, asking me question after question. You know, things a kid would ask like, “Whatcha doing?” Or, “What’s the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?” Actually, the one with the eyepatch kept throwing those curve balls and it made me wonder what this kid was doing in his spare time.

Then the dinner bell rang, or rather, the rockstar parent called, “Pizza’s ready!” Finally, a moment of calm as slices are distributed amongst the group. But all hell breaks loose when the sodas are passed around. Oh god no, god please no, literally give them anything but soda. It’s too late now, that bastard knew what he was doing. It was like watching the fireworks at a Fourth of July celebration, as these kids practically exploded with sugar-induced adrenaline pumping through their little bodies.

Then the final blow: the cake. Ah yes, what a cake, I remember it fondly. No expense was spared for this occasion, when most parents provided a sheet cake from their local grocery store, rockstar here provided an elaborate cake worthy of 40 or so screaming children. A treasure chest; with chocolate gold coins, the strings of pearls made from modeling chocolate and candied necklaces, precious gems made from rock candy for that nice pop of color, and a delicate map made from marzipan that read, “Happy Birthday Captain Sparrow!”

It was carried in by a man who looked to be about my age, his hair pulled back into a ponytail like that kid from earlier - though I assure you, his was messier than in comparison to the kid, and he’d be wearing a dark blue shirt. Ah, now I recognize him; James Norrington, he was an elementary school teacher but he also worked the Tortuga Arcade during Winter Break. Really nice guy. A moment of silence fell once the door opened, all the children nearly gave themselves whiplash to stare at the newcomer.

“Oh look,” they’d think, “another adult we’ve yet to wear out.”

I’m just mentally screaming at this man, “Run! Run while you still can!!”

It was in vain, as the screech of, “Cake!” Coming from the birthday boy signaled the others to descend upon him. The man struggled to keep the cake out of their grasps, holding it high up and calling, “Mr. Teague, would you please provide me with some assistance? And where is Mr. Teach?”

Mugged and still laying facedown on the floor. That cannot look comfortable, but I suppose playing dead was miles better than the alternative, which was staying awake for this mess.

Finally, rockstar does something, casually getting past the crowd to retrieve the cake with a simple, “Thanks.” Manager asks me to do a headcount, make sure the kids were all still here and not somehow sneaking out into the rooftop or something.

37…38…39…oh shit. Where’s the birthday boy?

I couldn’t just make my panic known, so I started poking around the restaurant for him, I’d even asked one of my coworkers to check the roof for the birthday boy. And Mr. Teague was beginning to notice. God, I didn’t want to tell him I’d somehow lost his kid. But, then I realized that, he wasn’t looking at me; he was looking straight at the play area. And as luck would have it, there in the ball pit, I see the kid’s head poking out with a smug grin. Thank god.

After cake and presents was when the real damage kicks in, chairs are now flying, one of our front windows gets smashed into a million pieces, and now requires repairs. I don’t even know HOW they can even find the strength to accomplish that, so I’m mildly impressed. The manager’s office is then stormed and papers flew everywhere and into the party area. Of course Mr. Sparrow nor Mr. Teach don’t end up paying for damages, not like we’d want their money anyway. We want compensation for the emotional damage we had to endure that evening. Norrington fled not long after the cake was delivered, not like I’d blame him.

Eventually, parents and guardians come around to come collect their kids, even Norrington shows back up to pick up one of them, the one with the ponytail apparently. At least Teague tips us generously, seems he knows the sort of chaos this kid and his posse can unleash.

It’s 11, closing time. During cleanup, we take survey of the property damage that had occurred in the wake of that birthday party; your usual stained carpet, but also now featuring turned over furniture, ruined play area, arcade games now so stuck, I’m pretty sure they’d have to call someone in to clean them, raided prize corner, damaged animatronics. It was as if a bomb had gone off in here. It was over, the siege of port Chuck-E-Cheese had leaned in favor of Captain Jack Sparrow and his band of miscreants.

I left, but never came back for my next shift. I spend Sunday and Monday job hunting, and luckily I was able to land a job with the East India Trading Company.

I’d thought I’d seen the last of Jack, and his vast pirate army. Life as an underling in EITC was as mundane yet stable as one could imagine an office job to be, money flow is steady with a 9 to 5, paid vacation time, they’ve even got dental. I’d moved out of my crappy apartment and moved somewhere I could enjoy the peace and quiet; I vowed to never have kids. Life was good.

Until one Monday, I saw Jack again, he was pestering my boss, Beckett, asking him question after question. One of his little friends is aggressively flossing in another room, Jack has now gotten ahold of one of the company computers. Somehow he unleashes a virus. All the of work I’d poured in the past few hours gone the drain and now I’m openly mocked by a video of badly played recorder music. The bass is boosting hard, my ears are bleeding.

I’m going to put in my request for a transfer tomorrow.