#but its almost my bedtime and im old so like

[hanjesungs]

hello srs question........ should i gif han jisung........

[nomairuins]

thank GODDD the doctor is taking time to work on himself maybe now he can stop ruining womens lives .

[ellecdc]

hello!! i came across cbbh a few days ago and im OBSESSED 🩷 definitely one of my faves!!

can i request a blurb about cbbh sirius x reader’s little domestic moments as they raise their family 🥹 tysm 🩷

you absolutely can babes! thank you so much for reading and the request 💖

CBBH Sirius Black x reader - bedtime foul

You moved at the pace of a snail as you closed the door quietly to Aurora’s room, not wanting to wake the girl you had finally gotten to sleep. Trying to get the nearly-five-year-old to go to bed almost made Lyra’s nine-month-old sleep regression look like child’s play. 

Almost.

You followed the gentle sound of Sirius’ voice murmuring to the offending infant’s nursery, leaning against the door to enjoy the view.

It was a painfully domestic scene, watching your husband in his band tee and plaid pyjama pants hold Lyra’s small form up near is head as he murmured into her dusting of black hair, looking out of the window into the night as it fell upon Potter Manor. 

“And then, Princess Y/N and the brave Knight Regulus jumped out from their hiding spots and defeated the monster, and they all lived happily ever after.” You heard Sirius finish before Lyra grabbed a fist full of his hair and tugged hard before letting out a guttural scream. 

“Oh, you poor darlin’. What’s your papa doing to you, hm?” You commiserated with the baby as she reached her pudgy arms out to you. You took her easily into your arms and Sirius, though disappointed at the usurpation, gladly released his grip on Lyra after she relented her grip on his hair.   

Lyra, much to your husband’s chagrin, calmed instantly and watched your face as she let out a shuddering breath, tears drying up almost immediately.

Sirius leaned his forehead onto your shoulder from behind you and the three of you rocked back and forth like a boat at sea. 

It wasn’t long at all before Lyra’s breathing evened out, and you were almost sorry to have to disturb this little vertical family cuddle that was happening, but you wiggled your shoulder signalling for Sirius to move his head before you went to place the infant into her crib. 

You both left the nursery and moved across the hall toward your own room. You closed the door behind you as you let out a breath you weren’t completely aware you had been holding. 

“These girls make Draco look like an angel baby. I don’t remember us having such an issue at bedtime with him.” You complained as you moved to the bathroom to brush your teeth. 

“It’s ‘cause Lyra hates me.” Sirius muttered petulantly, causing your toothbrush to pause on its way to your mouth. 

“Lyra does not hate you!” You argued emphatically. In fact, it could be said that he was Lyra’s favourite person – especially as Padfoot. You’d be damned to admit that to the likes of him, however.

“Sure she does.” He scoffed as he spread moisturizer on his face. “You probably thought I’d been accosting her with the way she started squealing; she’d have you thinking she acted in self-defence.”

“I did not think that. I heard you speaking so sweetly to her!” You said through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Well, if I’m so sweet to her, why does she yank at my hair?” He asked. 

You hummed as you finished brushing your teeth and spat into the sink. “Maybe she doesn’t hate you, maybe she just hates your hair.” 

The lid to his moisturizer fell to the sink below him as he whipped his body to face you. “Why would you say that?” He interrogated you in a whisper. 

You started to chuckle, and he quickly shook his head.

“Babe.” He insisted, “why would you say that?” 

Sirius had always had a better poker face than you, and you were nearing full on belly laughter at this point. Sirius remained stony faced, though his lips looked a little tight and his eyes were full of mischief. 

“Take that back.” He demanded.

“Hey, you asked.” You said with a chuckle as you left the ensuite and moved towards your bed. You didn’t make it far before Sirius had launched himself at you and you were bearing the brunt of his weight in a very crooked piggy-back-ride. 

“Sirius!” 

“You take that back right now.” He demanded again as he clung to your form. You were still laughing as you continued to step towards your bed with his feet dragging uselessly against the ground behind you.

As you made it to the bed, you turned your body so that your back - and thus, Sirius - were facing the bed and fell backwards, trapping Sirius under your weight. 

Neither of you said anything or made an attempt to move, inhaling deeply at the quietness that seemed to be missing from the Manor all day. 

“This hair, Y/N,” Sirius started solemnly. You closed your eyes and started giggling silently which left you basically vibrating from your place on top of your husband. “This is the hair of legends, okay? Generations of Black’s have specifically passed down th-”

“You can say bred. You were bred to have that hair.”

“Specifically passed down the trait for this hair. Okay? It was what generations of Black’s strived for.” He continued slightly louder as if you hadn’t interrupted him at all.

“M’kay, you’re like an F3 goldendoodle.” You stated simply which earned you a pinch in the ribs and an indignant ‘oi!’. “You’re like a GMO.” You continued.

“I beg your pardon!?” Sirius all but screeched.

“A genetically modified organism.; you were genetically engineered. Your ancestors were like mad scientists.” You answered as you placidly rolled off of him and landed face down into your mattress.

“You are so lucky that a) you are all the way over there now, b) so incredibly pretty and the love of my life and c) that I’m so fuckin’ tired right now because I would absolutely beat the crap out of you for that cheek.” He said as he reached his arm over to demonstrate the new-found space between you two, though it didn’t amount to much when his fingers landed on your bicep. 

“You’re all bark, Black.”

Sirius sighed dramatically. “You’re right. I’d never.”

You smiled to yourself and the two of you laid there - the top half of your bodies on the bed and the bottom halves hanging off - for a few moments just enjoying the silence.

You both had nearly fallen asleep like that when you heard Lyra wail from her room.

“For fuck’s sake.” You muttered as you stood, pushing Sirius back down onto the bed as he went to do the same. “Stay here, protect that hair.”

Sirius groaned but did as you told. “She better not hate my hair, that little minx is bound to inherit it herself.” 

[crazylittlejester]

A warriors…meets…cia again fic???

hold up lemme just—-

😎

😳🕶️🤏

he is only ten years old jes. Devastating. (*adds it to my future a03 bedtime stories to-read later*)

it was like a four word prompt sent in by an anon that’s grown into a huge multi chapter thing because I didn’t expect it to get as long as it has and now I’m realizing I have to break it up into chapters 😭 I’ve literally been working on it for like… five months, poor Mandarin Wars Anon has had to deal with my dumb ass getting too carried away with things and I’m so grateful for their patience 😭 It’s been scrapped and completely rewritten at MINIMUM like six times now, the plot has been COMPLETELY changed, it’s been a wild ride 😭 I’m sticking it in my ‘You’re A Part Of Me’ series which has been a bit fun because i get to drag little elements from past fics in that series into this one. small enough things that someone who hasn’t read the series won’t feel like theyre missing something but people who HAVE might recognize the reference

the plot has sort of turned into a murder mystery almost… im losing my mind, genuinely, i’ve put so much time into this fic

it’s also something i’ve been struggling with the rating on for months, because while I do not write explicit things (because that is my personal preference), the themes are a bit heavy, and because of that I decided I’ll be raising the rating to M. Which has also just allowed me to add in other things unrelated to the initial reason I was worrying over the rating and not worry about thinking “is this too violent-“. A while ago I considered writing two versions of the fic because I know a lot of people who’d been following me back when I got that prompt in the first place were really really excited about it, but that’s a lot of editing and I’m not sure how many people are still that into it 😭 So i’ll probably do a poll or make a post or SOMETHING to see if people would want a T rated version, if enough people do I’ll edit the fic

to be so so clear tho: the main reason this fic is going to be rated M is because of heavy themes, heavy discussions, and trauma related to a past event, i just wanted to play it safe. since deciding i was going to rate it higher, ive allowed myself to throw in more detailed descriptions of violence and nightmares and shit like that. and the main part of the fic that made me first think i should bump the rating up is going to have like *** in the text before and after it so people can just skip that if they want, cos if I’m gonna write a fic about trauma, then i’m gonna write a fic about trauma. and this is my free therapy so 🕺🕺🕺

anyways, i don’t wanna say it because i feel like then it’s just not gonna happen, but I’m hoping and PRAYING i can post the first chapter when Mandarin Wars Anon gets back 😭 fingers fuckin crossed. AND THE FIC ACTUALLY HAS A NAME NOW, WHICH IS FUCKING CRAZY AFTER FIVE MONTHS OF JUST CALLING IT “Mandarin Wars Anon’s Fic”

also i’ve been debating letting Time just go absolutely batshit towards the end of this fic because he kinda deserves it, as a little treat, yknow?

i really hope it lives up to the expectations🧍‍♂️ ive felt a lot of pressure while working on this cos so many people have gotten excited for it and im a BIT worried its just going to absolutely suck, so if i drop it and disappear off the face of the earth for a bit its because the anxiety ate me alive

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Dear Hatterstan

I have been part of the fandom since the release of the first season, but I had been pretty disappointed since my fave (hatter) was super underrated, and never really found any content on him.

But I recently found your blog and god it has been a goldmine for me. Your old writings have been my bedtime stories these few days.

What I mean to say is that I really appreciate what you do, I actually made a Tumblr account because the site would let me keep reading if I didn't JAJAJAJS, I honestly dont even know how this site works (or if this is even the right way to reach out to you, but I might as well try)

But seriously, thank you so so much for what you do, you are one of the few people giving me content to fixate on, and the fact that its super good too!?!! I feel like I won the lottery with your blog. And I felt like I should formally thank you for it, I know I could keep on being a ghost and not interacting with anything wich it's what I used to do, but I realized it might be nice knowing people really enjoy what you do, aaaa English is not my first language and I'm not good with words, but I hope you get what I mean TT

Aaa I rambled too much I ended up making a Bible, im sorry for that!

Anyway, thank you so much for everything TT♡

This is legitimately one of the best, kindest messages I've ever received. Seriously. I cannot thank YOU enough for stopping by.

...And BECAUSE you sent me such a lovely message, you get your own little drabble!

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Storm

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Takeru/Aguni

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Completely OOC, but what if Takeru was stupidly, ridiculously afraid of thunderstorms? And it's the middle of the night? And there's *gasp* only one bed? I bet you can't possibly imagine what's going to happen here...

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"Mori. Mori, are you awake?"

"I am now."

Aguni Morizono pokes his head from beneath the bedblanket. With a groan of sleepy displeasure, he rolls over to see a familiar silhouette standing in the doorway.

A jolt of bright flashes throughout the room, lighting up Takeru's expression of horror. A wall-rattling clap of thunder makes him jump.

"Mori," Takeru hisses. He hugs his ridiculously-patterned bathrobe around his waist angrily. "You have to do something about this."

"Do what?" Rain pelts heavily against the window. "I can't control the weather."

"That can't-do attitude is exactly why you got demoted to number three in the line of succession. I mean, you haven't even tried—"

Another flash of lightning stops Takeru mid-sentence, his voice morphing into a shaky yell that has Aguni squishing his pillow on either side of his head to try and drown out the noise. It doesn't do much.

"I hate this. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this!" Takeru runs a shaky hand through his mussed-up hair. "You know how I am with thunderstorms, Mori. They're so loud and unpredictable—"

"Like you."

"—and I feel like I'm gonna freak out if this goes on for much longer."

Another, smaller rumble of thunder rolls by, and Takeru's whole body stiffens. It's almost sweet, the way he gets so upset over something so simple as a storm. Aguni can't help but feel a stab of fondness behind his heart.

"You're not gonna freak out," Aguni says. He reaches out in front of him and grabs a handful of comforter, gracelessly yanking the blankets back to reveal the unoccupied side of his bed.

"Come on," Aguni sighs, "get in."

Takeru looks like he's about to protest, but lightning has him scurrying across the room and sliding into bed like he's stealing second base. He quickly folds the heavy comforter up to his nose and squeezes his eyes shut as tightly as he can.

"You really are bothered by this, aren't you?"

Two flashes of lightning and the rain roads even louder. Takeru yanks the covers over his whole head and groans.

"Yes," Takeru snips, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He pokes the comforter up with his finger just enough to glare at his new bedmate. "It's the end of the world out there! How can you be so calm?"

"We need the rain," Aguni shrugs. "This'll be enough to keep the Beach up and running for a good while."

Takeru grumbles. He can't deny the benefits of such a torrential downpour, but it's clear that he's less than thrilled about the sky's method of delivering water.

"Yes, well..."

More thunder. Even Aguni jumps a little at that one, the sound much louder than before. He doesn't even notice that Takeru has wiggled his way to the middle of the mattress and now rests mere centimeters away from his person.

"I hate to ask you this, Mori, I really do," Takeru says softly, "but, seeing as we are both currently in the same bed—"

Takeru doesn't get to finish his sentence. Aguni flops a tired arm around Takeru's shoulders and rests his open palm on Takeru's back. Aguni pretends not to be pleased when he feels Takeru lay his head on his chest and snake an arm over his stomach.

"Knew I could count on you, Mori," Takeru hums. He wriggles around a little, trying to find the perfect, most comfortable spot to settle in. "I don't know if you're aware, but you're an exceedingly comfortable man. It's a shame you always snore so loudly."

"Not as loud as you," Aguni says. "You're gonna steal the covers, aren't you?"

"I'll only take what I deserve."

Lightning flashes, but this time, Takeru doesn't seem as upset. Aguni rubs small circles on his back as his breathing begins to slow.

"We'll discuss your inflated ego in the morning," he says. Takeru makes some kind of muffled noise of acknowledgement, face squished into Aguni's chest and rapidly losing his battle with consciousness.

And, despite the storm, both men manage to fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

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Listen. Sometimes, being an adult means you just need a goddamn cuddle. And these two? Oh, yeah. They need it. Badly.

[trigontheterrible]

Hi Trigon, ao3 is down could you read me a bedtime story instead?🥺❤️

i wrote a story just for you anon. universes shall speak of trigons benevolence.

erotic story

by t. the terrible

it was the most important day of raven's life. it was a pretty awesome day for trigon too. today was the day she accepted her sexy place at his side and embrace her heritage as the daughter of trigon.

trigon was sitting on his throne when raven came in, tears in her gray eyes. she ran up to her father, who she always loved, and jumped onto his lap, her bosoms boncing like excited puppies.

"father" raven whimpered. "do you love me even though i've been so good and unevil?"

"of course i do" trigon answered, for he had always loved raven, even when she was cum in her whore mother's useless stomach.

raven bit her lip, looking up at him iwth repentance. "im sorry i haven's been the daughter i should have been. the truth is... i always loved you! it was only a curse azar placed on me that kept me from saying it."

"i always knew it!" trigon ejaculated. "that witch. i would kill her dead if she wasnt already."

"its okay now" raven said, nuzzling up to her fathers breast. "my love was so strong ot broke the curse. i want to be a demon now, father! i want to kill people with you!"

trigon beamed, overjoyed that his daughter had finally seen her true fate.

"father" raven said. "but im worried..."

"what are you worried about?" trigon said, looking at his daughter with concern.

"i don't look as scary as you do" raven pouted. "i have this useless human skin and only two eyes!"

trigon laughed. "i can fix it, raven. dont even worry."

"oh!" raven exclaimed. "i should have known you could. youre so wise and handsome and you have the scariest penis! but tell me, how will you fix me?"

"with my penis" trigon said proudly.

"of course" raven said, for she loved her fathers scary penis. "what do you want me to do?"

"take off your dress" trigon ordered.

raven took off her blue dress, makign her breasts bonce again like a tranpoline. she wasnt even wearing panties because she was always her fathers daughter. her pussy looked so cute like a little fuzzy mouse, and trigons cock was the mouse trap that was about to kill it. with love.

"you look so pretty" trigon said. raven's pussy quivered with joy at the compliment.

"what now?" raven asked. she wasnt as experienced as trigon, as she was exactly 18 but he was nearly 6000. which is a normal age gap unlike his friend slade and his loser slut girlfriend with narrow hips whos probably a golddigger.

"now you have to fuck me" trigon said. "and my penis will turn you into a demon."

"of course" raven said. "it makes perfect snese."

raven took her fathers penis in her hand and stroked it. it nuzzled against her because it recognized her as its best friend in the whole world. raven smiled for she loved it just as much.

raven got up on her knees on trigons lap and rubbed his cock against her pussy. after a few moments she found the right place and sank down on trigons cock, moaning. trigon filled her up so much that he tore her hymen again even though she wasnt even a virgin. raven loved when he did that.

raven bonced on her blood relative (step father does NOT COUNT AS INCEST) fathers cock, moaning like an old door. trigons cock filled her up so good it was almost at her throat. raven loved it so much that she started cumming right away and didnt even stop.

FFFSHH went ravens pussy as it squeezed around her fathers cock. PHHSWMMMM.

"it feels so good" raven moaned. "i love you father!"

"i love you too" trigon said. he grabbed one of her tits and squeezed it which made her cum even harder.

"im releasing so many eggs!" raven moaned. "im going to have so many babyies! tomorrow!"

"they wont be as beautiful as you" trigon said, which made raven swoon.

"im so fertile" raven said. "im like the fertile crescent. thats how fertile i am."

"yeah you are" trigon said. "you're so pretty and cute and my daughter."

"i am!" raven agreed. her pussy made a SHWWOP noise around trigons cock.

trigon began to cum in ravens pussy which definitely made her super pregnant. raven squealed in pleasure as her skin began to turn red and a new set of eyes opened on her forehead. when it was finally over raven was so full of her fathers cum that she would have so many babies for sure.

"thank you for changing me father" raven said greatfully. "i love you."

"i love you too" trigon said. they were so in love and happy and demons.

"tomorrow can we torture a hot virgin please?" raven asked.

"yes." trigon said. "together."

the end

[mordeiswrld]

“Im drained...im unmotivated...im tired...im done. So many hurtful things have been said to me by the ones who were supposed to care for me...i still rememeber it, and some of it still goes on. Why do I remember the things that hurt me...?”

“Wear some makeup maybe that’ll make it better” -because i wouldnt smile for a picture i didnt wanna be in

“She’s a grown woman she knows what she’s doing”- my great grabdmother & mom when i got mad about my siblings (1-2 and 6-7 years old) being out without me and with my grandma who hasnt had a baby in over a decade

“You need to stop dressing that way”- my great grandma when i showed up to my her house in an oversized sweater

“Your too young”- my mom when i told her i wanted a binder and that i was a boy at 11-12 years old

“ive always wanted a boy”- my mom. Then she got what she wanted and started being ‘better’ as if she couldn’t do that with her 1st 2 kids

“Yeah mhm, or girl what?😒”-my mom, dismissing me whenever i try to tell her something im happy about

“You need to start talking to your grandparents”- my mom everytime i ask her for something, now im scared to ask since everything i ask for is “too much” even though she buys herself stuff everyday

“Ill talk to him”- my mom whenever me and my dad get into our fights...it never gets better and she never talks to him and always takes his side

“Shut the fuck up”- my dad whenever i try to explain something to him even if it’s not that serious(its never that serious)

“Stop being selfish”- my dad whenever i say no to my siblings using my stuff that is strictly MINE and that i dont have to share if i dont want to

“Watch your brother” my dad almost all the time everyday and they’ll just be lying around doing nothing with the excuse of ‘i work i need a break’ you dont need a break all damn week while i have to go to school and handle your wild 3 year old while your in your mid 30s

“Sounds like a personal problem” my mom whenever i tell her that I genuinely can't handle my siblings and am on the verge of snapping (violently)

“Maybe if you had a bedtime then yknow...i dont wanna have to say it”- my mom around her friend talking about my low grade in a class and thinking its bc of electronics when in reality my mental health is in hell and ive been crying more than usual and i dont have the motivation to keep pushing on anymore, but she thinks im up at 12:30 bc of a phone...

“Congratulations”- my mom when i show her my all As. But won’t be as nice and be a bit irritated that i got a low C in something she knows I struggle in

“I'm so proud of you”- my dad hugging me for the straight As. He doesnt hug me ever and he never says those words to me. Not even when its a minor accomplishment

“Has your father ever told you he loves you?” my mom years ago in a random parking lot that got me realizing last week that he never says he loves me willingly, he has to be forced

“I'm obligated to be there” my grandfather after getting married and never calling us to see how we are

“Your ___ eye is bigger than your ___” my friend. I always liked my eyes growing up...not anymore

“She ugly as hell” my 9th grade classmate he just says it whenever he can. I dont even have to be talking to him

It’s getting worse day by day...nothing i do is enough...im tired..

admin zjay

[keefwho]

March 20 - 2024 Wednesday

11:54pm

6/10

This morning, very little cleaning again. Not that my room really needs it. I just did some dusting and putting a couple things away. This morning's shower was extra short since I had to do dishes too. For breakfast I made another breakfast sandwich with instant oatmeal this time. I played Stardew Valley while it cooked.

During work I warmed up with a color study and a few shygal sketches. Then I worked on and almost finished the shygal commission I'm currently on. Streaming was frustrating today because no matter what I said, someone always tries to be "right" even when there isn't a right or wrong. Like how we were talking about sexual orientation and someone implied that I haven't experienced enough real life relationship to know what I'm into?? Thats just one small example, this kind of behavior happens every day. I'm fixing to start ignoring every time I see a stupid response, like it was never typed.

After work I tried to do my workout but my tummy was a little grumpy so I only did about half. Then I kinda sat around until lunch. Lunch was my homemade stir fry rice with pork.

During afternoon work I tried joining BR's server again but it was more game talk and it got old pretty quick. I finished today's request and worked on my animation for another hour. My tummy started feeling worse so I left the call and worked on AE's avatar for about 15 minutes before quitting. I had to use the bathroom which helped but I still felt bad. I got a heating pad for my tummy and made some peppermint tea.

DS called fairly early today for fursuit work and chill time. I played the MLP game for awhile. It was the coziest I had been today because this is what I wanted most, bestie time and pony game. After her work, she read me 3 short Disney storybooks, the kind you read to kids at bedtime. They were good, especially the one about Figment. She's really sold me on him and the Dreamfinder as characters. I keep thinking a crossover with them, Bob Ross, and Vsauce would be oddly fitting and amazing. Then we tried some Roblox. I proposed a mountain climbing game I saw someone else play. We didn't get very far, I don't think she likes that kind of repetitive challenge, falling over and over until you finally get it right. Thats something we differ on. Then we peeked at a Monster High RP game briefly before bedtime. In bed we did our puzzles, Monster High reading, and Kingdom Hearts. The Connections puzzle today was hard and different, must be a NEW guy making them. After she fell asleep, I played Stardew Valley. Im leaving my water heater on tonight to see if it'll work, I have reason to believe it might. I just want more hot water in the morning.

~~~

Today I was thinking about acceptance, more specifically accepting both the good and bad parts of any experience. Its a good way to stay connected to whats happening, reminding myself that there are always 2 parts to everything. It helps if I start obsessing over the negatives. It's about searching for that silver lining and truly accepting that it exists. Im REALLY good at accepting bad things, I need to work on accepting good things.

3 things I liked about today.

Playing stardew Valley.

Painting the Shygal commission.

Extra time with DS.

[freunwol]

riku and repliku look so different but rikus only like. a year older

[viktorstittytank]

Part IV: Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone (NSFW)

Last part to the secretary miniseries I do think I’ll make a couple more mini fics but the official series is done<3

I hope you like it I put everything into it and wrote while I was sick so it reads a little longer than the rest.

I almost gave Silco a foot fetish for shits and giggles.

MINORS DNI 18+

Enjoy

___________________________________

“OH MY FUCK!” You shriek throwing your raincoat at the distant form sitting in darkness. A glowing eye winking at you surrounded by pitch black.

Quickly reaching over and flicking on the light to your living room you come face to face with Silco who seems unbothered by your panicked state.

Somehow finding out it’s him in your house makes the whole situation 10x’s worse. You scream again.

“Stop screaming.” He gravely mutters, irritably tossing your coat back at you.

“How did you even get in here!”

He silently stares back at you with that clear ‘I’m literally the king of the undercity.’ look.

“Okay stupid question.” You notice his tie is loose. The first few buttons of his dress shirt sit undone. He looks like hell. Worse than hell. Like it chewed him up and spit him out.

Deep bags have settled under his eyes and it looks as if he’s gained a few grey hairs. Unfortunately none of this makes him look any less handsome, that bastard, but it does make you feel guilty.

instead of being asleep he’s been waiting for you to come home.

It tugs at your heart.

If you still worked for him he’d probably be at home, comfy in his bed in a set of nice silk pajamas maybe with the humidifier going.

“Why are you here, isn't it past your bedtime old man?”

He doesn’t take the bait, instead he completely ignores you.

Leans forward, hands clasped as he visibly prepares himself for what he’s going to say next, then looks up at you from where he’s sitting.

“I’m giving you back your position.”

“You’re what?”

“I’m rehiring you.”

Who just stole all of the air in your apartment?

“What about Carl-” “Carl will suffice I will not.”

“I don’t believe you.” A tenseness finds its way into your steps as you minimize the distance between the two of you making your way towards the couch.

“I don’t believe a thing you’re saying right now and I want you to leave.” You point towards your door but he doesn’t budge.

“And why is that?” He counters, tone laced with venom. How dare he pick a tone with you now.

“You break into my house telling me that all of a sudden I’m getting my position back and think I’m just going to be okay with it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes! Excuse you for walking in like you own the place-“ “I own the building,”

“-I busted my ass working for you! I gave my all and some, and what do I get for carefully pressing all of the collars of your shirts while you sign off another deal that I’ll have to do all the major paperwork on? FIRED. I get fucking fired.”

Silco rolls his eyes and sighs out, “Y/n,”

“Fired Silco. I slave away for you just so that you can go and lay me off cus picking on me, kicking me while Im already down isnt enough for you. You have to steal every lick of joy I get to experience and wring it out of me like I’m a towel.”

“Y/n,”

“I’m not done. I can't believe you. I put so much of myself into my work. I don’t do it for recognition but dammit it would be nice if you at least acknowledged it. I could pull the moon from the fucking sky for you and that wouldn’t be enough would it?”

“Y/n I think-“

“PLEASE STOP INTERRUPTING ME.”

He gives a curt nod leaning back into your couch cushions.

“I have been your work wife, your business partner, and your friend. I have searched the highest mountains for fucking shaving cream for you. I have had Sevika beat men to the pulp for me just so I can get you hair gel. I’ve spent the last of my paycheck on your stupid cigars just so that you can calm down. And you repay all of that by letting me go. Why would I want to come back to you?”

His expression has softened upon hearing your list of complaints against his mistreatment. His foot taps slowly while his fingers are busy fidgeting. You’ve never seen him squirm so much before.

“So you noticed?” He breathes out.

“Noticed what?” You counter crossing your arms over your chest.

He sighs standing to his feet and slowly starts to make his way towards you. His mouth holds a frown threatening to spill into a smile. A familiar smugness tugging at his expression.

“You are one of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever had work for me. I appreciate your eye for detail, and it does bring me a sort of assurance knowing that a capable individual is handling the data and blueprints of shimmer shipments.”

You can’t even tell if he’s being sincere or if he’s making a fool of you again. You shift so that you’re leaning on your left leg. You’re still trying to hold onto your irritated facade but you can’t help that he’s piqued your interest.

Silco’s never complimented you to your face before. What’s gotten into this man?

“Why did you fire me?”

Still walking closer to you, hands clasped behind his back, he tilts his head at your question. Considers it for a second before he’s towering over you.

“Because I could.” Figures. “And because I started to fear for your safety. With the vigilante situation in hand I thought you wouldn't be capable of handling yourself.”

You quirk an eyebrow at his confession. So all along this has been about “protecting” you. You don’t believe him.

Perhaps it shows on your face because his expression falters slightly.

“Though I admit I hadn’t been expecting you to stand up to me. I guess my judgment on how well you can handle yourself is…flawed.”

He runs a hand through his hair.

“What I’m trying to say is that…I would like to have you come back.” “You would like?” He slowly nods.

So he admits he needs you. Or your service.

Nervously glancing at the door you realize that it’s a little too late to just book it. Should’ve done that when the light was still off. It would have made more sense actually.

If anyone seriously dangerous was in here you would have gotten murdered.

“So do you want tea?” You offer trying your best to make this interaction feel normal, less tense especially after blowing up on him.

It’s hard to do that when the man that fired you is pretty much begging you to come back and work for him.

Silco’s watching your every move like a fucking hawk.

You patiently wait for a response and when he doesn’t say anything you nervously glance at the door again. Maybe you should’ve just ran away.

“So I’ll take that as a no?” As if a spell has been broken he blinks himself free and clears his throat bashfully nodding.

Something about Silco looking nervous surrounded by the interior of your home makes your stomach jump.

“Chamomile if you’d be so kind.”

You make your way to the kitchen, putting a kettle on the stove and watch from the kitchen as he seats himself.

Once the tea is done you make your way into the living room. He’s leaned back into the cushions, head tossed back, eyes closed, arms spread across the back of the couch, man spreading.

He looks like the perfect seat.

“I think I need time to consider your offer.” You utter sitting yourself on the opposite end of the couch offering him his cup.

He raises his head at your confession. “I take it you’ve got something better waiting for you.”

“I can’t just leave Carl. He’ll be lonely. Did you know your bartenders get lonely? And he’ll be exhausted handling all of that by himself. Plus I already started implementing a complex unit of sorting and arranging the glassware that he hasn’t grasped yet-“

He gently takes the cup from you. “I’m giving him a three thousand dollar bonus for putting up with you, I’m sure he will find a way to manage.”

“Putting up with me? Carl loves having me around.”

“He’s been working at the last drop longer than you’ve been working for me. And his name isn’t Carl. It’s James.”

He’s got you there. But do you really want to go back to silent mornings in Silco’s office and having your buttons pushed the next minute? Are you willing to surrender your peace for the sake of his success?

The longer you consider it the more nervous he seems.

“So you need me?” “Yes Y/n, I need you.”

“I’ll come back on one condition.” “Name your price.” “A new desk. Maybe my own office thought that might be pushing it.”

He chuckles at you. A rough noise that scratches its way up his throat.

“I’m serious Silco, I'm never doing paperwork at that tiny piece of trash ever again. Get me a desk or I’m walking.” “Okay.”

He isn’t going to fight you? What happened to the man that would give you hell over completing the simplest task?

“That’s it?”

“You made it clear what you want and since I need your help I’m in no place to negotiate.”

Seeming satisfied with himself he places the chipped china on top of your coffee table and raises to his feet.

With one final look at you he bids you adew walking out your front door leaving your mind a fuzzy buzzing mess.

When you’re sure he’s gone you collapse back into your couch and throw an arm over your face.

“Asshole.”

It’s 9:00 am and you bought a very special back to work gift for yourself to celebrate your achievement of return. A latex pencil skirt. risqué enough to make all the citizens of Piltover faint on the spot.

When you walk in you don’t come empty handed. In fact you bring an entire basket full of cleaning supplies, desk materials, and a couple of decorative pieces.

And the first thing you do is kick Silco out.

“Get out.” “Excuse me?”

“If I’m coming back to work for you there’s gonna need to be some changes made around here. But first you need to leave.”

He stares at you over his spectacles unmoving before suddenly standing and leaving.

As soon as the man is gone you start redecorating.

You get Sevika to rip the ugly curtains from up high for you, and she helps you move Silco’s desk back so that there’s more walk room. It also helps make the space look less awkward.

You replace the lightbulb in the lamp you had thrown at Silco with a nice purple bulb, and wipe down his desk with lemon scented cleaner. Something you know he’ll appreciate.

You color code the folders in the filing cabinet, clean out the paper shredder, unjam the printer, refill the stapler, wipe the window clean, rinse his ashtray, vacuum the welcome rug, and let Sevika carry out your old desk for you.

As it’s passing out the doorway you blow it a kiss. One you hope comforts it as it burns in the deepest depth of hell.

Finally for good measure you drop off a tiny cactus on his desk.

You slink around the office in your new blouse and latex skirt coupled with a pair of classic pumps (that you quickly abandon) and alternate between filing papers and creating a new financial distribution plan to better pinpoint whose pay needs to be cut the next time a vigilante attack takes place.

When the man of the hour returns you silently take in his reaction not missing the way the side of his mouth momentarily quirks up at the sight of the little cactus on his desk.

Or the way that quirk falls at the sight of your skirt. Quickly replaced with a scowl.

If anything you’d thought he’d like it. It was one hell of an investment.

“You have a meeting at 11:00 am with your council of investors so I have all of your data collections on your desk. I went ahead and purchased Sevika’s next shimmer pick up. Here’s your iced, Ristretto, 10 shot, venti, with breve, 5 pump vanilla, 7 pump caramel, 4 Splenda, poured, not shaken. Do you want your shot now or later?”

You twirl the injection in your hand waiting for his response but he stands there looking at you shocked.

He begrudgingly takes the drink from you.

“Where are your shoes?” He mutters glancing down at your feet.

You ball them up under his gaze.

“Nowhere that concerns you.”

He stares at you with this unreadable look. It makes you crinkle your face into a similar posture.

When Sevika enters her eyes immediately go to you. “Why isn’t she wearing shoes?”

“I don’t know.”

…

Although you have had some complaints about Silco’s insistence on working you to the bone you still find yourself in the office all the way till 10:00.

Still working, but mostly enjoying the feeling of your highlighter gliding smoothly across your paper while seated at your new powder blue desk.

In your new personal office.

Silco left a while ago and didn’t say if he was coming back, which means that you get to enjoy your new work space.

You don’t understand why he insisted on helping you break in your new office by working on your new couch the entire time but now that he’s gone you've got time to really celebrate.

No grumpy man to ruin your vibe, no one to knock over your nice neat piles of completed work, or criticize you filling out four sheets at one time.

Nope.

Just the nice soft music you put on, the bottle of wine Sevika and Jinx chipped in to get you sitting on your desk, and the night sky twinkling through the large glass window across the room.

Victory has never felt so sweet.

Glancing about the room you take in all the details from the wall paint to the tiny scribble doodle in the corner no doubt left there by jinx. Then you pull open your drawer and stare down at your lovely super gadget whose stuck by you through all of this mess.

A true A1.

And of course that’s when Silco comes walsing in clicking on the light startling at the sight of you. You give an amused scoff plopping down another completed piece off to the side while slamming the drawer shut.

“Didn’t expect me to be here?”

“No.”

He sits himself on the couch across the room from you, clasps his hands, and stares at you.

“Did you come all the way here to watch me work?”

“I came here to figure out who was still in my office-“

“You mean my office.” You correct him reaching across your desk for the bottle of relief.

He cocks his head at your comment and you sigh, reaching for the knife tucked into your stocking.

You animalistically pop the cork from the bottle with your dagger and it seems to catch him off guard.

He has no clue where you got it from and the longer he sits here the more he realizes he doesn’t know about you.

His nonchalant secretary has had a dagger on her person this entire time. Maybe she isn’t as naive as he originally believed you to be.

You pour yourself a heavy glass of wine.

“Should you be drinking at work?” His voice is laced with a teasing tone but you can still hear the slight concern.

What does he care?

“Technically I don’t work here. Remember?”

He ignores your jab. “Why didn’t you just go home?”

“Thought it would do me some good to finish up with the shimmer shipment documents. It’s not like I have much else to do.” “As much as I appreciate your efforts, you need a hobby.”

You shrug at his comment standing and making your way over to the couch.

You seat yourself on the opposite end so that there’s plenty of space between the two of you, and with your heavy glass in hand you stare into the side of his head.

Memorize the curves and scars of the side of his face. Admire how long his eyelashes really are.

He ignores you of course. It seems it’s the only way he knows how to deal with you.

Pretend you aren’t there.

He stares off to the side at something far far away letting the fingers on his hand curl and uncurl around the air. Clenching and releasing at nothing. Then finally looks at you and smiles softly.

It makes your tummy flutter.

“What?” “Are you always this quiet?” He questions. You shrug for maybe the millionth time tonight.

“You know as much as I hate to admit it I’m going to miss working with you in my presence.” He quietly mumbles. But you can still hear him.

“I never thought I’d see the day to hear you say anything close to such a thing.”

The comment makes him smile to the point you can see the edges of his teeth.

“I’ve always liked your teeth.” You mindlessly mutter. “I’m sorry?” You scoot closer to him so not much room separates the two of you.

Leaning forward you push your thumb against his bottom lip prying his jaw down so that you can see his bottom row of teeth. They’re so pretty.

Pearly and clean.

He seems unbothered with you looking (Jinx has done significantly worse) that is until you use your thumb and pointer to pry his lips from his gums even further examining his teeth.

This man has never had a cavity in his life, where is he getting his dental care from?

He gently pulls your hand from his mouth. “I think you should go to bed.” He suggests.

“I’m not tired. If anything I’m frustrated.” The wine in your system has made your cheeks color. Maybe. It could be the wine.

“You’ve had too much to drink.” “This is only my first glass.”

He eyes the half full cup. “Exactly.”

He reaches over plucking the glass from your hand and ignoring your “hey!” takes a sip.

You scoot back to the opposite end of the couch and pull a bar of dark chocolate from between the couch cushions.

One you hid as soon as you found out that this was your new office, and this was your new couch.

Glancing up you find Silco is quizzically staring at the chocolate no doubt wondering where you got it from.

One way or another you’re going to enjoy your new office whether he likes it or not.

A smooth silence resettles over the two of you. Silco sipping on your wine and you slowly eating your chocolate, reveling in the feeling of victory.

Until a chill runs through the air.

You prop your feet onto his lap at an attempt at gaining body heat not thinking much of the action mostly cus you’re too caught up in eating your chocolate like you’re in one of those shaving commercials.

And he seems fine with it, relatively unbothered until a thought crosses your mind and you start to rub the heel of your foot deep into his thigh.

“Well this isn’t very lady like.” A deep rouge has started to climb his neck.

His eyes cautiously lilt over the expanse of your stockinged leg. You pop a spot of chocolate into your mouth and moan in delight. “I beg to differ.”

“I must go-“ “Don’t you think I should get to enjoy myself? I mean you DID fire me,” “with good judgment.” “With silly judgement. I’m a grown woman, Silco.”

You push one of your feet into the side of one of his thighs reveling in the way he seems to shiver at the contact.

You’re nowhere near where you want to be and he already seems to be a mess.

In his own feverish act of retaliation he carefully rips your stocking, slipping his fingers through the tear to grab and massage at your calf. He extends your leg towards him and while maintaining eye contact places a chaste kiss against the sole of your foot.

“You feeling hot?” You sigh. He hums in reply.

“For someone who’s such a little shit I should let you suffer.” With the way you’re looking at him now, like you could eat him, the both of you know that you wouldn’t let him suffer such a fate.

He mindlessly stares at you waiting for something, anything.

“Well are you gonna touch me or what?” You grumble, popping another jagged piece of chocolate in your mouth.

“Always so upset with me.” He mutters placing another kiss at your ankle. “Tell me what I’ve done” another kiss a little higher. “And how I can make it better.”

“You want me to tell you how you can make it better?” You climb on top of him and start to slowly stroke his cheek with your thumb. You watch the way his eyelids flutter closed because of your touch.

You watch the way his lips part and his chest rises with a sharp intake of air.

So touch starved.

Then suddenly you grab a hand full of hair and tug. “I want you to respect me.” You whisper taking his ear between your teeth and moaning at the way he tries to buck you off.

“So sensitive.”

Your grip on his scalp tightens pulling a breathy groan from his chest. “I’m tired of working till the ass crack of dawn Silco.” “And I’ll stop making you.”

“I want free time. You know time to do things other than work?”

You can feel him poking up into you. Humoring yourself you grind down onto him taking his face in your hand.

“Why do you treat me the way you do?” You grumble. He hisses at the way you rub against him. His hands squeezing into your hips desperate for more.

More always more. Always greedy and selfish and impatient.

“Because you’re so pretty when you want to stab me.”

You giggle at his response and his cheeks light aflame at the sound.

“Stop being such a tease pet.” His breath is cool against your ear, left hand steadying you against his lap as his right tugs on the pencil skirt he seems to oh so despise.

Silco smells like the wood of his desk, aftershave, and a deep bitter cologne that invades your senses with no warning.

He sinks his teeth into your neck and a shiver runs up your back. He chuckles against your skin.

“What’s the magic word?” You mutter swallowed by lust.

When he doesn’t respond your eyes flutter open as you pull back to look at him. Blush climbing his neck pupils blown with lust. He’s staring right back at you.

You know he’s being stubborn. The chances of you ever getting him to beg for you are slim, but anything is impossible if you don’t try.

“Don’t get bashful on me now. All you have to say is ‘Miss Y/n may I please have your cunny?’ and i'll give it to you.”

He doesn’t respond, still tight-lipped staring unblinkingly at you. A few strands of his hair have stuck to his forehead. You run your freshly manicured nails through his usually tame hair.

Your hand shimmies down between your bodies and you grab him. He gasps.

“Speak.” “Miss Y/n.” He purrs articulating all the consonants in your name.

“May I please have…your cunt?” His hand’s snaked its way under your pushed up skirt. He’s rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger looking at you with so much want, so much desire.

“Yes you may.” You breathily reply.

Pushing the fabric away from your core he slowly pushes his lanky digits inside of you scissoring his fingers moaning at the way your walls hug him and momentarily clinch at the sensation.

He pulls his fingers from your heat and holds them up to your lips looking at you expectantly. When you take them into your mouth he moans in satisfaction.

That is until you bite him.

You bite the tip of his finger so hard you draw blood. Silco groans at the sight of it pulling his finger into his own mouth to taste the red.

Overwhelmed with the desire to taste him you lean forward into his lips and sigh at the feeling of his cool lips slowly moving against yours. The wine on his tongue potent and contrasting with the copper.

“In.” He mumbles against your lips. “Okay-“ “Now.” “Silco one m-“ “please.”

You pull away to look at him. Your lipstick is smudged all across his mouth. He looks so ruined, so pretty and ruined.

He lets you undo the zipper of his pants and doesn’t even try to hide his smirk at the sight of your reaction.

The man is…long. Maybe 6 or 7 inches eyeballing it.

How the hell does that even fit it in his pants?

You line him up with your entrance and while you still have the courage, stuff him inside before fully sitting. A delicious moan tears from his chest chased with a whimper.

You guide his hands to the buttons of your top as you bounce against him and he impatiently pops them from the fabric before your breasts plop free and he’s basically groping you.

“Oh my.” He coarsely whispers, stroking your breast before leaning in so that his lips connect with your skin.

You sigh at the contact.

Silco’s lips trail across your chest momentarily nipping at the hardened buds. Looking up at you his hot tongue finds placement on one of your nipples. Designated hand tweaking the other all while watching the way you emote.

His eyes feel like fire, burning through you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting for him to touch you like this. More ideally somewhere else and not on an office couch but you’re taking what you can get.

He loops his fingers into the waist of your hiked up skirt whimpering as he fucks up into you planting his feet for better leverage.

At some point he angles his hips upwards and accidentally brushed against that spot that has you falling forward digging your nails into his shoulders.

Once he’s found it he abuses it. Short calculated thrusts as his thumb finds its way back to remorselessly abusing your aching clit.

“Silco,” you whimper into his shoulder, feeling the way his chest vibrates with every chuckle at the sound of you.

However as soon as you clench around him his movements begin to stutter.

You take the moment to tease him pulling back to get a good look at the wrecked man.

“I’ve never seen you so speechless before. Cat got your tongue?”

Silco only moans in response, thrusting up to make contact with your hips.

He’s shivering. Legs quaking each and every time you slam back down, gripping onto your thighs and breathily moaning into the air.

“Y/n please.” “Please what?”

“Let me cum.” He sighs into the night air. His voice trembles.

Taking pity on him you readjust yourself so that you’re squatting and start to bounce faster against him.

“Anything for you pretty boy.”

His legs continue to shake the closer he gets to the edge, fingers grasping your thighs as he chases after his own high.

He swears as he pulls out of you spilling against his own stomach. His hands travel up to your sides and massage.

“You didn’t finish.” “No it’s okay-“ “Y/n” he all but growls your name. “Let me help you cum.”

“Fine.”

Climbing off of him you walk over behind your desk and pull your special gadget from the drawer and watch the way the color rushes back to his face as you place it in his hand.

At this rate you might break the poor man.

He turns it over carefully examining the buttons and such before pulling you down on his lap and gently pushing the vibrator inside of you while positioning the ribbed outer part directly against your clit.

Without another thought he clicks it on the highest level, clamping his hand down against your waist to stop you from squirming away.

“S-s-Silco!” “Mhmmm?”

As if he hasn’t done enough, he has the audacity to turn on the heated setting as well. Something you didn’t even know the thing could do.

He’s trying to kill you.

“S-silco!” “Yes pet.” “Too much.”

You shiver in his lap before it seems the ceiling is crashing down onto you. For a moment or so everything goes quiet and then you find yourself collapsed against Silco’s chest heaving in greedy gasps of air.

“This couch was a great investment.” Silco mumbles into your hair.

______________________________________

🤍🤍🤍🤍

@thesinoflust1103 @htmlbitxh @redflamesbaku @illicittete @mochi-clouds @bilesxbilinskixlahey @sparrow-rise @freementallyillkid @just-a-sewer-goblin @sparrow-rise

[heyitsjay03]

Headcanons about each of the lords (+the Duke if you're writing about him) if they ever happen to adopt a little child?

THANK YOU ANON MY THE UNIVERSE BLESS YOU WITH PILLOWS THAT ARE COLD ON BOTH SIDES

okay okay okay okay this has definitely been on my mind so lets get into the thick of it

Alcina Dimitrescu

(im starting off with alcina for obvious reasons)

Alcina would be on the way to the church with the slimy moron, the demented doll, that disgusting manthing and Mother Miranda

She'd kiss her daughters goodbye and head off through the snow, quietly muttering about how cold her ankles were

while Moreau is literally up to his chin in snow but its fine

as she gets closer to the church she keeps hearing this. thing. it sounded familiar but she couldn't exactly put her finger on it.

she strays from the path to find it because it was just so familiar

as she weaves her way through the snow, her dress gets caught on something. she leans down to get her dress unstuck when she realises its this tiny basket.

like seriously. just a little woven basket in the middle of the snow. and it doesn't look like its been there for that long- there's hardly any snow on it

when she tugs at her skirts again, the basket makes the same noise she's been hearing

she stands back up to her full height, staring down at the basket with narrowed eyes

this cannot be a good idea, can it? opening a strange basket in the woods after being lured out here. it's probably some village manthing's trap.

she's about to step away when she hears the sound again- much more intense and much more clear

Alcina leans down and opens the lid of the basket

inside is this tiny thing- all soft and warm in a padding of blankets

a baby

she stands and looks around

who on earth would be so moronic as to leave their baby in the snow? it's much too cold for a baby to survive-

oh

she sighs, getting onto her knees to pull the baby from the blanketed basket

the meeting will have to wait. it's too cold even in the church for this tiny thing.

when she finally makes it back home, she's greeted by her daughters in a swarm of buzzing flies.

as they manifest in their true forms, they're asking what- or who, rather- their mother brought for dinner

Alcina smiles and shakes her head, unwrapping the small bundle clinging to her breast

"this... is your new sibling" she announces, "they'll be staying with us from now on."

and the sisters are ecstatic. a new sibling!

Daniela especially is happy that she is no longer the youngest. she usually is the one to parade around the castle with her sibling on her shoulders, showing them the coolest hiding spots for hide-n-seek and the windows with the best views

Bela is incredibly protective. like. incredibly.

she smelt blood from across the castle and when she found her little sibling sniffling about a skinned knee earned from a game of tag with Angie, she lost her shit and almost broke the damned thing with her sickle

And Cassandra has been caught reading bedtime stories by nightlight multiple times. she tries to play it off but everyone knows that she loves- absolutely adores- her newest sibling

we all know Alcina is such a wonderful mother to the girls so adding another baby to the mix was a guaranteed success

she's so doting and careful (a little overprotective at times but she means well) as she is with her girls

as the child grows into a teen, she panics a bit because "my beautiful baby is growing into such a beautiful, talented adult" so expect a lot of late night visits when she just sits on the edge of her bed and just admires how much you've grown

Salvatore Moreau:

now this one is an easy one too if i'm 100% honest

think Moses type beat

(if you don't know, Moses was found in the riverbank in a little basket)

apparently i really like baskets

anyways

Moreau was so out of his element when he found this tiny, screaming, writhing piece of soft flesh

the first few weeks were rough

but he eventually got the hang of it (with Alcina's help of course)

he would take his child fishing every now and then- just the two of them out on a boat for a few hours

the kid would literally swim more than walk and that little fact would make Moreau so freakin proud

also this kid would be so well-versed in movie and film history it's stupid

like expect this little 4 or 5 year old babbling not about toys or snow or how many sticks they found but instead about the copyright war over the film Nosferatu and the destruction of its copies

Moreau, as the child gets older (like 11 or 12) would have just a tad of trouble trying to keep the kid out of the village

he'd wake up one day and go out onto the lake, expecting his child to be swinging their legs off the dock and watching the sun rise over the water

and when he finds that they were not, in fact, swinging their legs off the dock and watching the sun rise over the water, he p a n i c s

i mean, full blown red alert

all of the lords are summoned to help Moreau look for his missing kid, the lycans are given an article of clothing to help find the scent, Mother Miranda goes to search the village herself- the whole shebang

and when the kid is found playing with the village children, Moreau bursts into tears

needless to say, the kid isn't allowed to go to the village anymore

until they're fifty (Moreau's words, of course)

but the kid sneaks off more and more as they get older, using Alcina or Donna or Karl as an excuse to be away

and Moreau knows but he never says a word

seeing his child happy and free with the kids their age makes him happy, even if he is a tad, a tad, a tad bit nervous

Donna Beneviento:

when Donna found this child huddled up against the base of the stairs leading up to her front door, she at first thought it was a doll of hers

it was only when she actually walked outside that she realised it was this shaking, shriveled child in tattered clothes

she spent a good five minutes just staring, wondering how on earth she's supposed to react

that's when Angie jumped in and pulled at her skirt, telling her to "let the kid inside, already!"

Donna went immediately to work on some clothes- why on earth were they wearing such ragged things?! it's freezing outside!- while Angie entertained in the parlour

honestly, it didn't go well

the kid was a little bit unsettled by the floating doll that moved and spoke on its own FOR GOOD REASON

and when Donna walked back in with her measurement tape and some fabric, the kid backed themselves into a corner of the room with their gangly legs tucked into their chest

Angie sighs from the opposite side of the room, letting her little feet fidget as she gestures to the kid. "they're no fun" she pouts, "wouldn't even let me know their name"

Donna puts her materials down slowly and lifts her veil back before attempting a small smile

it takes a while but upon the offer of food, the kid finally lets Donna make them some clothes while Angie makes conversation

she works in silence, only offering small awkward smiles

Angie finally brings up the topic of where their parents are when the kid's clothes are done

when the child goes silent, Donna nods in understanding before hurrying off to make a room for them

as Angie helped tug the blankets up to the child's ears, they promised they'd be gone in the morning

Angie was the one to tell them off.

"You'll stay as long as you need, you silly goose!"

and the child did

Donna would let them tag along for meetings so long as they promised to keep quiet and help keep Angie out of trouble

most of the time, it didn't work and they both would end up in trouble but Donna let them come nonetheless

and when the other Lords question where on earth this little kid came from- all dressed in black fabric that matched Donna's dress, she just shook her head and let Angie chase them off verbally

she'd spend literal HOURS locked in that workshop making new little friends for her child and when they were old enough, she'd let them into the workshop

and when they were even older, she'd walk them through making their very first doll on their own

she'd just watch with pride as they carefully painted the freckles with a shaky hand while Angie danced around their ankles singing of how excited she was to have another friend

The Duke:

he would be setting up shop near the base of the Dimitrescu castle when he catches a kid trying to steal some his wares

he wouldn't be terribly upset, more concerned

it wasn't something shiny or expensive that they were trying to steal

it was some of the steaming-hot food he had left to cool in the wintry air

he confronted the child gently and with a warm smile

"That's cordon bleu," he says, gesturing to the steaming plate. "I can make you some if you'd like"

and as the child eats, the Duke continues tidying up his shop for any future customers

the child, through a mouthful of food, points to different items and asks their purpose, their price, their possible enhancements

the Duke answers each question with patience, happy for the company

but he doesn't just let the questions go one-way

"How about a trade?" he asks as the child asks about the strange-looking bottle of green liquid. "An answer for an answer."

the child agrees and the Duke starts to peel back layers of why the child was here looking for food

they had been orphaned by the last lycan attack, only barely making it out by fleeing into the woods

they tried to forage off of berry bushes and successfully managed to kill a pig- only for the blood to attract lycans before they could properly eat it

the Duke nods and continues busying himself with his shop, feeding the horse that pulls the wagon

the thought had hit him when he watched the child petting his horse

that horse hated everyone. including him at times.

maybe...

when he offered to take the child in, the kid nearly burst into tears and thanked him repeatedly, swearing to earn their keep

and they did, seven times over

what started off as a purely business venture morphed into something more as time went on

when the child would come back from selling smaller household items like gasoline and the occasional package of bullets, the Duke would have them climb onto the roof of the wagon and watch the sun set together with a plate of food

speaking of which, like Moreau, the Duke would raise the most cultured child

this kid would know how to prepare and identify different dishes and their ingredients just by looking at them or smelling them

and their palate would be far more sophisticated than most adults

the Duke, as the child gets older, would eventually allow them to choose destinations to set up shop- even outside of the village

wherever his child wants, the shop would go

it allows them to see the world and its earthly wares together- something the Duke had lacked in his life before the child was brought into the picture

Karl Heisenberg:

listen to me very very carefully

this man would be the most chaotic father ever to walk this earthly realm

when he finds this kid in the elevator of his factory, he's kinda standing there like 🧍 "what the hell-"

and when the kid starts spamming the button while maintaining eye contact, he kinda snaps out of it and starts chasing after them as they drop down to a different floor

it goes on for a solid twenty minutes before he finally managed to track them down in the corner of his office

and when i say this man is confused, i freaking mean it

i mean

why the HELL would some random kid be in his factory? don't they like... play with ponies or something at this age?

to be fair, this man literally has never been allowed a childhood so

obviously he starts scolding the kid ("what the hell are you doin' in here? it's dangerous and there's some really freaky shit here, kid"), dragging them to a nearby sink because "holy shit kid, you're filthy"

the kid is silent essentially the whole time, just kinda staring into his eyes

and of course Karl's gonna be like "...the fuck're you doin'?"

the kid's face is cleaned off and Karl sends them back out towards the village with a scratchy blanket he pulled out of the bottom of his desk drawer

he's working on his 'equipment' one day when he starts reaching for a wrench, keeping his focus on the body on the table

when i say this man jumps skyhigh at the kid asking a question, i mean it

he drags the kid back out, yelling about how dangerous it is and how "you shouldn't do that! you're gonna get yourself killed! go back home!"

the kid doesn't listen

it becomes a regular thing- Karl finds the kid wandering around the factory, Karl brings the kid out of danger, Karl tells them to get lost

eventually (day thirteen of this) he asks why the child keeps coming back

and he hates the answer he gets

it was something along the lines of "it's warm and there's nowhere else for me to go"

so Karl reluctantly eagerly lets them stay

it's a lot of rules at first (a kid shouldn't be allowed to just wander around a bunch of mindless cyborg killers, let alone a factory) but eventually the child learns to mind Sturm and the others

doesn't mean Karl does not have a fullblown heart attack when he walks into his workspace to find the kid tracing their finger along the center of the battery for the Soldats

after a very long talk (and some deep breathing) Karl reluctantly eagerly lets them sit against the very far wall to watch him work on the machinery- not, under any circumstances, the actual bodies

as the child blossoms into a young adult, they start to help out with certain aspects of Karl's work

exclusively machinery because Karl could not physically handle having his kid watch him get elbow-deep into a corpse

and Karl is so freaking proud of it

when the Soldat is kicked to life, he's got his kid in his arms and cackling like the proud dad he is

yeah. paternal Heisenberg>>>

[akaisenhatake]

Heeeey 1,9,45,50))0

thanks for askingggg <3

1. What's their full name and what does it mean?

daniel julieus clark : there's no particular meaning to his name honestly. julieus clark was the name of his deceased father.

avery junior clark : as you already know from my chapter 39 post, avery wasn't her biological name, but instead Alice. she chose this name because of an old story book her dad used to read during bedtime where her favorite character's name was Averine.

estevao raphael : the last name 'raphael' was given by UK's R Leader himself. Its unclear whether he gave him the last name as to claim him as his son.

9. Favorite teachers?

daniel julieus clark : you might think he's weird, but he actually really likes professor snape. yeah sure he might've bullied him and multiple students and rather strict practices but he managed to ace his exam because of it. another few favorite professors of his is professor flitwick as well as professor sprout. and maybe professor rakepick for a short while.

avery junior clark : professor sikander. she absolutely loves joining his class considering they share almost the same chaotic energy. she also likes professor mcgonagall, though she finds most of her class sessions 'boring'. oh, and lets not forget professor kettleburn.

estevao raphael : he's probably one of the only few students who likes going to professor trelawney's classes. reasons for it are unclear but its certain that he may use it for his advantage.

45. What quote best defines them?

daniel julieus clark : 'fear not the dark, for we bloom in the womb before greeting our light.'

avery junior clark : 'there are so many beautiful reasons to be happy.'

estevao raphael : 'here in the forest, dark and deep, i offer you eternal sleep.'

50. What would their amortentia potion smell like?

i kinda dont want to answer this solely because im not a big fan of the love potion lol. but i guess the quickest way to answer this is that daniel would smell a lot like forests, avery would smell like clouds and rain [i dont even know what clouds smells like], estevao would smell like something burning, with a woody scent to it.l

[wizkiddx]

heyheyhey idk if u do req but love your dad tom stuff! PLZ PLZ do tom helping his kids with homework but cant do it and reader has to help and its all fluffy 😩💕

ye im down to do req and this had me going completely ott cos its v cute (and a lot less angsty than what ive written recently aha) so apologies for my ramblings:

Summary: tom has the kids for a day and maths homework throws a spanner in the works - tomhollandxreader

implied smut + v slight reference to porn but basically just fluff I promise xox

\\\\\\\\\\\\///////////

Tom had dealt with a lot of whining today. Nova and Leo were the absolute joys of his life, there was no doubt about it. Of course, he also loved you a hell of a lot too - sometimes to his detriment though, hence the position he was in now. 

You’d had a busy week at work and he had been away for the first half of it - leaving you as an almost single mother to a 5 and a 7 year old. So completely fairly, you’d asked if he wouldn’t mind watching the kids for a the day on Sunday, allowing you to go to a friends baby shower. There was no answer but to agree, Tom loved quality time with the kids and he wanted you to kick back and relax with you friends too. 

However the afternoon had not been nearly as idealistic as it were supposed to be in his head. You had left him only one real job (apart from the unavoidable essentials of keeping the kids alive with food and water, something you’d hope he need not be reminded about now). Really it shouldn’t of been that hard, it was just each kid had two pieces of homework. After convincing and cajoling the kids into sitting at the table which he’d already set up with Nova’s ‘Liverpool FC’ and Leo’s ‘captain marvels’ pencil case, the English was easy. 

In fact 5 year old Leo took great joy out of writing a poem with his Dad, which basically involved trying to rhyme any word with another - especially when he tried to convince Tom that all his completely fictitious words were real and worked together. A personal favourite had been ‘snakes’ and ‘palakes’ which Leo was convinced meant pancakes - arguing so vehemently Tom almost started to doubt himself on basic English. 

Thankfully though his eldest and most sensibly child eventually took him out his misery. If anyone had any control over the Holland boys, Leo and Tom - it was the Holland girls. You and Nova had both boys completely under you spell, often taking advantage of the fact too. It was only when Nova got bored of hearing Tom and Leo mock arguing, interspersed with the little boys giggles that Tom tried his absolute hardest to keep a straight face at, that she swooped in.

“Stop being silly Leo, mummy told you he’s not good at school!” She looked oh so innocent, eyes immediately flicking down to continue the little short story she was happily going on with. In response  Tom scowled, knowing your highly curious and intelligent daughter had asked you (for one reason or another) why he was not so academic. Yet instead of Leo bursting out laughing, instead he just nodded and accepted it too - making Tom scowl even more. Not even Leo thought it was a joke. 

So apart from his children apparently taking pity on his simple mind, it was all going smoothly. Perhaps, due to the thankful fact your children had inherited their brains from their mother - something Tom was forever thankful for, until he was shamed for his substandard intellect in the family. Then again though, he was Spiderman. So take that. 

Until Nova brought out her maths sheet. Then the afternoon quickly descended into chaos. It was fractions, something she hadn’t quite grasped from school yet - a concept that still hurt her head somewhat. Normally though it’d be fine, she’d bring the sheet to you and the two of you used ‘ girl power’ to figure it out… you prior experience as a tutor while in uni helping you know how to break through to her. 

Unfortunately Tom didn’t share this same experience. Nor did Tom share a maths qualification… something that had evaded him completely during his schooling career. Of course, it had never been a particular issue, acting didn’t require the use of maths and algebra and Tom was in a very lucky position of being able to pay someone to manage his finances from a very young age. So no, dividing 2/3 and 3/7 didn’t come the most naturally to him. Or at all to be quite honest. 

“I CANT DO IT AND GRACE IN MY CLASS COULD!” For context, Grace was one of her school friends, who forever liked to compare herself to the young Holland - especially because she was normally ahead. Nova had gone from quiet frustration, staring at the questions with her tongue sticking out slightly, to one of pure rage - yelling at her dad with tears in her eyes. Nova was normally incredibly intuitive, she always found it difficult when she couldn’t do something. Now, with a ‘teacher’ who was more useless than her - the frustrations inevitably bubbled over. 

“Hey, we can work it out, just calm-“

“YOU CANT DO IT EITHER YOUR STUPID “ She was just young and frustrated, Tom tried not to take it personally but … it wasn’t always easy. Chiefly because this was the height of offensive statement Nova knew - this was her version of adult explicit language. 

“Nova you can’t be rude.” He used his stern voice, something Tom very rarely used with his little girl. Though he never wanted to upset her, neither did he want her to think it was ever okay to be so rude to anyone like that- no matter how crappy at maths they were. It hurt him to do so but it was necessary - life lessons about the importance of being kind needed to be learnt. And it worked… if what Tom was aiming for was his beautiful baby girl’s eyes to brim with sparkling tears, her bottom lip quivering slightly. 

Instantly Tom’s eyebrows drooped, trying to fight his natural reaction to scoop her onto his knee and reassure her everything was okay. But as you had lectured him many a time before, he had to put his foot down once in a while. So instead, the father and daughter were locked in a silence and intense eye contact, until Nova hesitantly began to speak. 

“I’m sorry Daddy.” During which, Nova shoved her chair back, making it screech against the tiled floors uglily before running off up the stairs. Tom knew she was crying a lot. Knew this was going to take a bit of fixing. 

With a sigh of his daughters name, Tom popped his head into the living to check on Leo who had already finished all his stuff. Seeing him completely zombified in front of ‘paw patrol’ on TV, Tom trudged up the stairs. He knew where she was, when Nova was upset she always hid in the corner of her wardrobe and cried in the darkness. So after steadying himself with a little internal monologue of how to approach the situation Tom walked in and sat down beside the wardrobe - knocking on the door slightly. 

“Nova… can we talk please?” All he heard was sniffing echoing from the wooden chamber until she tried to shout through the door.

“Go-go… go away daddy.” It broke his heart, the way her voice wavered, making Tom pout - gently letting his head fall against the wardrobe doors. 

“I don’t want you to be upset beautiful…. And you did apologise which I appreciate. You know why Daddy got angry right?” Her sniffles heightened before she muttered a quiet ‘yes’. “And you are sorry? Because that might’ve made me really sad too.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Then that’s good and we don’t need to cry. You want a cuddle little one?” Before Tom could even properly get up the door was being pushed open by her little hands, revealing a tear stained face and big glassy eyes looking up at her Dad. Swiftly Tom scooped her up and out of the cupboard, whispering to her while she buried her face in his chest. 

“Oh come here my little bean.”

//////////////////////

When you came home late that evening, only mildly exhausted from spending the whole day gossiping with your girls, it was weirdly quiet. All the lights were out in the front room, which made you close the door gently, thinking Tom had managed to exhaust the kids - and himself in the process. With a relieved sigh at the peace you pattered into the kitchen to get yourself a drink (it had been a little concern that Tom would’ve worked the kids into a hyperactive and delerious state that kept them up long past bedtime - which ultimately you’d have to deal with). The house was remarkably silent and though it was clear from the littered toys everywhere that it had indeed been Tom alone in charge, everything seemed pretty okay. 

It was only as you were about to head upstairs to join your hubby in bed that you realised the study light was still on, streaming through the small crack in the doorframe. Assuming Tom had just neglected to turn it off, in otherwords Tom being Tom, you nudged it open with your hand. Surprisingly though, there was your husband, hunched over the desk, looking almost angrily focused - between the computer screen and a piece of paper below him. Normally you would’ve just assumed it was another script sent over or an edit Harry had sent of another screenplay they were writing together. 

But no, the blatant red flag was the screen that you could see. A screen on YouTube, of a man pointing at a whiteboard of fractions. 

So with a soft wrist you wrapped your knuckled on the side of the door, even if you had technically already entered the room. The reaction had you stifling a laugh, it was as if you’d caught him watching something *less PG* the way he jumped out his seat, closing the browser immediately. 

“Love!! I -er … didn’t know you’d got back?”

“I just did.” You smiled gently, while walking into stand behind his chair, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Soooo…. what’ca doingggg” The glee in your voice was evident, making Tom groan and shut his eyes. 

“I hate you, you know that right?” 

“No you don’t… but you were watching a primary school video on fractions, if I’m not so mistaken?” He sighed deeply, making a point of turning the paper with his scribbles over to obscure it. 

“Nova’s homework.. she couldn’t do it and neither could I, so then she basically screamed at me for being thick and udseless and then had a breakdown.” 

Now you felt guilty. This was a bit of a sore spot with Tom, he always for some reason felt inferior because of his academic ability. Which was stupid- mainly because he was the most clever and talented man you’d ever met. Just…. Just not at fraction. 

“Oh T… you could’ve just left it for me to do with her, I don’t mind.”

“That’s not the point Y/n.” He snapped a little, shrugging your arms off him and spinning in the chair so he could face you. “She’s my daughter and I should be able to help her! It’s not like it’s that hard, it’s just I’m unbelievable thick.”

“Tom stop. Look - you can do this I assure you, it’s just been a long old time ‘kay? Your rusty and that’s only natural.”

“I really don’t think I could ev-“

“Can I teach you? It’s just the method and then I promise you’ll get it.”

It took a bit of persuasion but eventually Tom agreed, letting you pull the corner chair forward to beside his desk so you could demonstrate it to him. To be fair, he really could do it- just a bit of familiarising on the ‘stick-change-flip’ method. The way the lightbulb moment literally caused his face to light up; scurrying to do the question for himself, tongue sticking out in the process; then presenting it to you proudly - well it had you melting in your seat. 

“See! That took all of 5 minutes and you got it.” You elbowed  his side by leaning forward in the chair, which instead of letting go, Tom reached and caught, before pulling you up and round. You landed with you bum perched on the edge of the mahogany desk, Tom now stood up- his legs in-between your parted thighs - your feet hooking round the back of knees. 

“It’s all down to my incredibly talented teacher.”

“No…. No I really don’t think it is” You mused with a soft voice, fingers instinctively going to the nape of his neck - twirling the little curls round your fingertips. 

“Well even so… I think I could teach you a thing or two too.” Never one to mull on anything, Tom’s tone had immediately switched to something a lot more… mischievous. 

“Not even going to ask about my day? Wheres the chat mr smooth?” He had to repress the grin at your smirk because as much as you infuriated the hell out of him - you also had this weird ability of making him feel so entranced and helpless. He relented with a sarcastic chime.

“Fine, how was your day love.”

“Good…. but I have a feeling you’re about to make it a whole lot better.”

That was all the signals he needed to lean forward, in doing so forcing you back until your back landed completely on the cool wood. His lips feathered yours, both hands pinned either side of your head.

“Oh darling… you have no idea.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Diego Hargreeves’ child

Diego Hargreeves x child!reader

warnings: knifes, blood, guns, death mentions, mental hospital

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Hi! Could you please write a “The Umbrella Academy” Diego Hargreeves x daughter reader headcanon? I always think Diego is such a overprotective softie dad ♥️♥️”

deigo really said “?????”

how dad

but also he’d just the most loving dad anyone could ever ask for

✨it’s because he was never loved by his dad✨

“hi cutie, i love you, i love you, i love youuuuu”

he locked away all his weapons so that you couldn’t hurt yourself on them

but he always missed a few and he’d turn around and see you holding throwing knives and just FREAK OUT

“no, no, no, you may not have those! knives are for big boys like me, not babies”

“give back”

“‘give back?’ are you nuts?”

diego has conversations with lil you as if you know what the fuck he means dhshshhshs

as you got older, you became more interested in his “career”

“no, i dont care if you have powers or not! you have a bedtime, that means no vigilantism, you hear me?”

“if i say ‘no’ can i be a vigilante?”

“you know what? how about you clean up the gym for al so he doesn’t evict us?”

you did not sign up for this

you really wanted to meet your aunts and uncles, but you weren’t exactly sure they knew about you

i mean, you knew you had a cousin but everyone knew about her because aunt allison was a goshdarn celebrity

“dad, i want to meet the family!”

“no you don’t”

end of discussion

despite having a bedtime, you still watched movies late at night with your dad

he really liked marvel movies

“come on, that would never happen!”

“you come from a family of superpowered kids, a robot mom, and a monkey, and you’re upset about...a guy that shoots arrows?”

“maybe i am, what’re you gonna do about it?”

you ask about umbrella academy stories a lot, you your dad usually makes it about him

“and then i punched that guy in the face! and then i stabbed him in the leg because he was a dick! bet you’re friend’s dads arent as cool as me”

*yawning bc you’ve heard this story a million times*

you go to public school

you do have your dad’s last name

which occasionally gets recognized

“woah! wasn’t your dad a superhero?”

“i have no idea what youre talking about” :)

practicing your knife throwing while diego is away, him coming home to find his knifes stuck through various targets

so proud but he had to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself

you actually had to learn how to patch him up because he did come home a bit battered and bruised several times

“im okay, y/n. no need to freak”

“dad, there is literally blood dripping on the floor will you just sit down and stay still for five goddamn minutes?”

“woah, who the fuck taught you to cuss?”

watching the news at home when your grandfather was reportedly dead

you were actually very upset because you wanted to meet him so bad

even if he was a dick

your dad came home silent and you knew he knew

“you okay?”

“oh, yeah, im better than okay!”

finally getting the chance to meet your family

“who are you?” -allison

“im, uh, y/n. diego is my dad”

*jaw dropping*

and you know what? that happened four more times (plus ben but you didn’t get to see that)

“and you are?” -luther

“who’s the...the little one?” -klaus

“well, what do you know? diego’s a dad” -five

“don’t tell me that’s...no way” -ben

“you’re diego’s? wow, i can’t believe he didn’t tell anyone” -vanya

“i...i know who all of you are” -you

diego bragging about how perfect you are while everyone simultaneously rolls their eyes

“well, y/n, maybe one day we’ll schedule a playdate for you and claire” -allison

“‘playdate?’ how old do you think i am?...but yes i wanna meet her”

“god, you’re so much like diego, it’s unsettling”

you had been secretly training at al’s gym during your dad’s late night activities

so when trouble came your way, you were able to handle yourself pretty well

“where the hell did you learn that?”

“al showed me a few moves!”

“that old man? you’re kidding”

you met your grandmother, grace, who was tasked with keeping you safe at all times

you actually loved her sm

but there was something a bit off about her

besided the fact she was a robot

klaus snuck you out so that you two could have BoNdInG tImE

it wasn’t all bad

ben was a lil choked up that he got to meet one of his niblings

“they’re perfect”

“they just stabbed someone, buddy”

“who are you talking to?”

FIVE EVEN SCHEMED WITH YOU

“okay, y/n, i need you to curve something when i throw it, got that? right at that security guard”

“what are you throwing?”

“you’ll know when you see it, make your uncle five proud”

“IS THAT A GUN”

<3 family

running into patch!!

“hey, kid, i just saw your dad. i thought i told you to handcuff him to the radiator when you were away?”

“yeah, well, he wouldve chewed his hand off so here we are”

that was the last time you saw her :/

well, your dad was now a wanted man

“what happened to your arm?”

“no”

you actually didn’t expect this family reunion to go south like this

wait—yes you did

vanya has powers????

“i thought vanya was the one without powers?”

“yeah. so did we.”

diego straight up did not want you anywhere near that

but you, again, were his child and also fuck authority you do what you want

the vibe is almost getting shot several times

by hazel, cha cha, and “commission” guys?

going 2 ur auntie’s concert 😌✨

“y/n, hide in the bathroom and stay there until i come get you”

“dad, i love you, but no”

“y/n, i love you too, but yes”

“no”

“yes”

“NO”

“YES”

you won

but in the end (or not so much) you time traveled to...1961?

without any of your family

“this is...this is not good”

understatement of the year(s)

what was a kid like you gonna do in dallas, texas in 1961

no seriously, what

it was rough, but you managed to survive on your own

and open a paper in 1963 to find a mugshot of your dad

“son of a—”

visiting dad! (two years later)

“y/n? oh my god, y/n! shit, i missed you so much! why do you look different? you’re bigger, oh god. how long have you been here?”

“2 years, dad. you?”

his hair was so LONG

“2 months”

“christ, that’s it?!”

“i have to stop jfk from being assassinated”

“what makes you think that’s a good idea???”

“its the right thing to do, wanna help?”

“shit, i guess. as long as i dont end up here”

“no promises, people in the 60’s are crazy”

diego: 👁👄👁

you: 👀

running into five on the street soon after

“uncle five?”

“no time to talk”

“okay, asshole? i’ve been here for 2 years and you dont care?”

“two years, huh? i spent 45 years in a post apocalyptic world as a 13 year old and beyond”

“i didn’t say it was a competition, dude. you kinda dropped us all at different times. at least, me and dad. he—”

“is trying to kill lee harvey oswald, i know. come with me”

finally running into your other aunts and uncles, who were so excited to see you

you ran into their arms and they picked you off the ground and you felt closer than ever after only knowing them for 10 days

dad broke out

lila too

“im your new mom!”

“you’re what?”

diego dragged you along with him almost everywhere

he had missed you so much, but he keeps forgetting you kinda grew up without him for a while longer

meeting grandpa :)

“a grandchild, huh? how unfortunate”

“bitch”

“what did you just call me?”

“a bitch.”

your dad and basically the entire table trying to hold back laughter

reggie was stunned

cold hearted just like him <3 he didn’t know if he was offended or proud

this is so confusing

diego just disappeared off the face of the earth

and assassins were on your case

“the goddamn swedes are back oh shittt im gonna die”

“y/n, just curve their bullets”

“it’s not as easy as it sounds, klaus!”

you were doomed

theres too much to go over

apparently you died on a farm????

and then you didn’t??????

and your dad was almost apart of the commission

“hey, you okay, y/n?”

“i would like to take a nap please”

“yeah, me too”

“me three!” -klaus

yeah it was never that simple 😌💕 the end

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @cullens-stuff // @lotsoffandomrecs // @takethebladeawayfromme // @that-nerd-tessa // @teenwaywardasgardian // @spidergirla5 // @sheridans-dynamos // @freya-xo // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @jay-is-groovy // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @abbiesthings // @thereagles // @ofthedewthesunlight //

[omegawolverine]

Braid Me a Home

summary:

"Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.” 

or

A story about the Sleepy Bois being family, told through braids.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: child neglect, hurt/no comfort, canonical character death, implied/referenced mental health issues (like it’s obvious but there isn’t much detail to it), brief blood mentions (ik this fic sounds kinda angsty as hell but its not? imo its light angst)

a/n: first dream smp fic and im ALREADY projecting? christ. anyways. go easy on me pls this is far from my best work i just havent written a fic in like 5 months (more if you dont count the fucking chat fics) mm also i may have posted this like a week ago on ao3 just to test the waters and its already gotten way more comments and kudos than any fic of mine usually gets this early on so hopefully tumblr enjoys it too :]

—

When Wilbur Soot was born, he came out crying, as most babies do. Covered in vernix and blood, he weighed just barely above the seven-pound mark, gasping out sharp cries that only a parent could truly stand, or worse—love. Though he was the second baby born into the family that day, he was fussed over far more than he would ever be again.

Technoblade, on the other hand, had barely made a sound when he came out, a trail of blood smeared across his forehead, almost as if it was meant to be there. He made small noises that were more akin to confused mumbles, weakly grasping at his father’s hair when he was eventually passed on for the second child to be welcomed into the world.

Only when both boys were held in their father’s grasp did Wilbur quiet down, his soft head leaning into his father’s beard as he stared wide eyed at the boy across from him. Though they looked similar enough, Technoblade’s nose was squished further back into his face, appearing almost snout-like to Philza. Of course Wilbur noted this, wiggling until their father somehow managed to get them pressed right up against each other with minimal damage done. Though Techno never stopped squinting like an annoyed old man at Wilbur, he allowed the other to press a fist against his nose, his eyebrows unfurrowing just the slightest bit at the touch.

From that day on, Philza was the father of two twin boys—a loud boy who cried easily, but always calmed down for his older brother, and a rather monotone one, who’s face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl, unless said face was being smushed around by the younger. And things worked like that for a while. Not forever, but...a while.

—

Philza taught Wilbur to braid on a hot Monday afternoon.

It had been a rough day for the boy, though Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe he hadn’t slept enough between bedtime and the time Tommy had started crying again, the youngest boy’s crib being right beside his head and all. Though it might’ve seemed cruel from an outsider’s perspective, Wilbur had been the one to ask for it. Something about Tommy being his little brother and how he needed to teach the boy the ways of the world in the same way Techno had taught him—because apparently that was all Techno’s doing now, not Phil’s.

Regardless, Wilbur had been a bit too snippy for Phil’s liking that day, complaining about every little thing they did until finally, the day was over.

Well, as over as it could be with Techno leaving mid foam sword fight, an annoyed shout of ‘I quit!’ leaving his mouth before he snatched up Tommy’s carrier and brought him inside for god knows what reason.

It had only been around four P.M. by that time—too early for dinner, yet too late for Phil to really demand the boy stay outside and continue to entertain himself with a brother who was clearly not entertained himself.

Details aside, Phil isn’t really sure how they got to braiding. He just knows at some point they did and by the end of their outside time, just before the clock struck six, Wilbur had made two thick, messy braids in his hair. They stuck out awkwardly, looking all too similar to Pippi Longstocking’s iconic hairdo for his comfort, but he’d be damned if he took out the braids his son had so happily rushed inside to show his older brother before demanding to do his hair as well. After all, Wilbur didn’t have long enough hair for braids, but Technoblade sure as hell did. It was only at his shoulder blades back then, brunette curls wrapping around his narrow shoulders and thin arms like thick vines.

Wilbur had always enjoyed brushing it out with his fingers and putting cute, handmade clips or flowers in it at random, decorating the waves for his brother who was more than happy to let the boy do as he pleased. Though he would never admit it, Technoblade liked how it felt when Will played with his hair. He was always careful not to tug too hard, prioritizing the comfort of his other half more than the beauty of his work, as he so often referred to it.

So when Will had presented him with the mess that was his first two braids, he wasn’t hesitant at all to let the boy practice on him. Instead, he walked to the couch with a small smile, removing his glasses gently and getting comfortable before his brother plopped down into the space behind him. Long legs draped over long legs with no warning, thighs pressed together as if they were meant to be like that all along—and they might as well have been, for how often they did this.

Phil had watched them from the doorway in content silence, Tommy sitting behind him in a wooden high chair looking bored, but not making a fuss for once. And as he left that doorway to begin dinner, he listened to their muffled conversation and soft bursts of laughter with a small smile on his lips, for he knew things wouldn’t always be this way. They would have to grow up eventually, and when they did, things would change. Phil could only hope it was for the better.

—

When Tommy turns nine, Wilbur teaches him to braid under circumstances not too different from the ones he had learned under himself.

Well. Not too too different.

Philza and Technoblade had been...busy as of late. In the house for three days, out for a week, in for a week, out for three more, over and over and over again. Wilbur had become more like a father to Tommy in recent months than he should’ve been, his fourteenth birthday fast approaching as their father took Techno out for yet another job, one that Wilbur couldn’t come on because he was too fucking weak to do anything Techno could do, too fucking stupid to learn all the techniques Techno did, lacking all the strength and agility his older sibling possessed, like the useless prick he was-

Right. This is about Tommy.

When Tommy was nine, his hair rested gently against his collarbones in the exact same cut and color as their father wore. If Wilbur was a lesser man, he would’ve hated the kid for it, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see what a selfish git their father truly was yet. All he knew was that their dad was busy a lot and that, for some reason, Techno needed to go with him. Apparently, that was enough for him to keep holding onto the idea that one day, the man would stay longer and maybe, just maybe, show him some of the same care that his older brother did.

If Wilbur was a better man, he would tell Tommy the truth. He would tell him all about the way Philza had called him useless in a fight, forcing him to instead stay home and care for a child while still being one himself. He would mention how Philza had given him no instructions on how to care for a developing child, how he left out key details to parenting on his own as a goddamn thirteen-year-old, yet remembered to tell him things would be better this way because god forbid he does his fucking job as a father for anyone but Technoblade—

Who he missed. He missed Technoblade, his other half, so fucking bad it hurt sometimes—so bad it left him gasping for breath at two A.M., his head pounding in tandem with his uneven heartbeat, lungs burning as his snot and tears soaked into his brother’s cold, cold sheets. And it made him feel fucking pathetic because the truth of the matter was that...Techno had left him behind too. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the older boy, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t hate Philza either, if he were to be honest with himself, but it was a lot easier to pretend he did when his father was the one putting them all in this position to begin with.

So, Tommy was nine when he learned how to braid.

Phil had promised him and Techno would be back Tuesday morning.

It was Wednesday afternoon.

Tommy didn’t fucking understand, and as frustrating as it was that the prick decided to take it out on Wilbur, he couldn’t blame him. Who else was he supposed to take this shit out on? Certainly not the man who had yet to return.

Wilbur had started the braid as a way to distract him. It was simple, really—tell him you know something he doesn’t and that he won’t get to know if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and listen.

When he had started tugging the boy’s hair back from his face, his immediate reaction was to jerk away, swatting at the hands that hovered over his shoulders. This only happened once or twice more before he let it happen naturally, his posture stiff as Wilbur ran his fingers through the boy’s hair with practiced ease.

Though it may not have seemed like it, Tommy was significantly more averse to touch than Techno had ever been. The only reason Techno even seemed averse to it was because of his hesitance to initiate, something he and Wilbur had discussed in depth. Rejection was one of the few fears Technoblade truly had and Wilbur held that fact close to his heart, ready to die with it if need be. Tommy, on the other hand? He was very particular about where and when and why someone was touching him, and it had taken Wilbur a long time to get used to that fact. But, he wasn’t about to make his little brother uncomfortable just so he could be happy and, eventually, he learned the ins and outs of how to touch TommyInnit without causing issue.

Pulling a few of the shorter strands towards the front of Tommy’s face loose, Will separated the blonde’s hair into three sections. They were rather small, what with how thin and short his hair was, it just barely being long enough to even have a proper braid in it, but Wilbur knew he could make it work.

“Now, Toms, you gotta listen to me here, because I can’t show you this bit, yeah? Phil and Tech aren’t here, and my hair is too short, so you’ll just have to feel it out for now, but...this is how you braid hair-” Wilbur had said in a soft voice, brushing the pad of his thumb over the boys neck slowly to ease the tension out of his shoulders. The effect was immediate, the boy slouching forward as if he had just noticed he was holding himself so sternly. Smiling softly, Wilbur instructed him on how to weave the strands together, answering questions and pulling lightly at Tommy’s hair so he could feel exactly where everything went. After he was done, Tommy had reached back to feel the bumps in his hair, all his earlier anger seemingly gone as he gave a small smile. And then he tried it himself.

Of course he got a bit of help at first, Wilbur’s larger hands guiding his own with gentle corrections, but after that Tommy worked on it alone, his older brother watching in silence from a patch of grass beside the porch step.

That night, Tommy and Wilbur slept in Techno’s bed, a soft, blue blanket wrapped tightly around them. And if another body woke them up at some point that night, shoving its way into the mess of limbs, their chest pressed right up against the youngest boy’s back, then that was only for them to know.

—

At eleven years old, Tommy takes a pair of scissors to his hair. With flushed cheeks and salty lips, his hands shaking and his eyes foggy, he cuts, cuts, cuts, until he can no longer braid his hair—until he can no longer look like fucking Phil.

Even though Wilbur had once said he hated Tommy’s long hair—hated how similar he and their dad looked—he felt like crying as he ran his fingers through the uneven strands. He didn’t tell his brother this though, instead grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his freckled forehead. In a fierce whisper, Wilbur had said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Tommy. So fucking proud.”

Tommy never forgets the way he felt that day. He doesn’t forget Wilbur’s words either.

—

When Wilbur loses his last life, Technoblade tells Tommy to braid his hair.

It wasn’t a question either, but a demand forced out between gritted teeth, his face red, his nose stuffy and his lashes wet with unshed tears. Still, his words were clear as day.

“Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

Tommy sniffled, but did as he was told.

Maybe it was because he was too tired to argue with the only person he even had left. Maybe it was because he could tell Technoblade was mad at their father for the first time in his life, and he knew how bad his first time had felt. Or, maybe, it was just because he knew Techno fucking cared. Nobody else seemed to, but he knew Techno did and...that was enough for him.

As long as someone else cared—as long as it was fucking Technoblade—that was enough for him.

Just as Tommy had finished the braid, curling his finger around the light pink tail that tied the whole thing off, Techno yanked it forward. Before he could even register that the hair had left his hand, the older boy had taken an axe to the top of it, letting the rest of his hair fall around his face in uneven curls. Though it was a good ten minutes of work wasted, Tommy couldn’t say a damn thing as he watched Techno pocket the braid, muttering a thank you and heading in the direction of Wilbur’s unofficial grave.

In that moment, he felt relief for the first time in a long while.

—

Wilbur Soot was born covered in vernix and blood, weighing just barely above the seven-pound mark, and he came into the world much like he left it. Everyone had heard his cries—even if they weren’t there, even if they didn’t know him well—they had saw the way he spiraled, desperate and afraid and paranoid, searching for help, but never receiving enough.

And though he was the second child born, he left the world first, returning in a yellow sweater with a small braid tucked behind his ear. He didn’t really know why he had one, but he remembered braiding Techno’s hair and he remembered teaching Tommy how to do his own and he remembered, he remembered, he remembered the braids.

[sydneyshipsstuff]

so uh last night at like 4 am i couldnt sleep, decided to walk my dog, and came up with this bad boy. It’s a rough draft, though. um @professional-benaddict read it and told me to post it, so whatever rafni says goes. 

-Little! Peter with like everyone lmao (platonically), but main pairing is Tony x Peter. everyone is 18+ and Littles are known. but yeah, I call this “uncanonically Canon AU” because it follows canon character tropes (except Peter).

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

so i LOVE the doctor trope w stephen and tony to death, like probably a lil too much, but hear me out

--canon tony and the avengers with not canon (aka powerless) little peter

--im thinking how they met is before peter became classified as a little, he was smart smart. so, he still gets the internship, but a real one this time.

--hes hanging out with the other interns when he feels himself regress. he freaks and goes to hide in a bathroom or something

--he runs into (probably pepper??) someone and they help him get out of the tower because he's obviously very vulnerable

--they (pepper?) take him to the hospital to get tested and find out hes a high care little. once they find out peter freaks out because omg he cant work like this

--(pepper?) assures him that they will figure it our, but with no CG, and just for plot sake, he also is living alone at this point so they dont feel comfortable sending him home, so he stays overnight, at least, in the hospital

--(pepper?) goes to talk to tony himself about this since hes the one who chose and hired the interns. tony isnt quite sure what to do because peter is one of the best in their group

--(pepper?) suggests that he go have a one on one talk with peter and see what the boy wants to do with his future, and also meet with the doctors to see what they think is best for his future

--now, tony has met peter a few times, and the kid is pretty cool, but he never really cared about him (harsh, but canon tony is pretty reserved so yuh) so, when he goes into the hospital room to talk with him, hes mentally preparing to never see peter again

--but, when he walks in, he sees peter sat on a cot carefully coloring in an avengers coloring book, and his entire aura is different and /adorable/

--as if he wasnt already kinda done for, when peter notices he's there, he looks up, eyes blown wide and a kid-like face on full of awe

--he sits on the end of the bed and they simply stare at each other before peter finally gets the courage to ask why tony is there, stuttering through it like an adorable mess

--tony freaks out, because as good as peter is, he planned on letting peter down, but now that hes here, all he wants is to see the boy.

--instead he smooths his nervousness and easily asks about how the boy is doing. he asks if peter has a CG, and predicably, peter just sadly shakes his head

--anyways i dont really know how this part would be worded, and it probably wouldnt happen in just one day, but eventually tony asks peter if he wants tony to take care of him

--peter is a cutie and accepts, again dont really have this part planned out, im akward when it comes to writing about the adopting of a little

--he goes with tony and since he lives in the tower, he also gets the avengers as glorified CGs. now this is the part i LOVE

***added part by Rafni:

"I’d imagine that Peter would just be kept in the hospital, like he doesn’t need any meds nor saline so he doesn’t even have a drip nor is he hooked up to any monitors. He is just there in the hospital pyjamas colouring and waiting for someone to take care of him🥺👀"

And since there’s no medical concerns (anymore) the nurses would have more time to just chat with Peter and make sure he is like mentally taken care of 🌸🌸

---

tony stark- he's obviously the main man and does all the main caring. hes the one who sleeps with peter and makes sure he gets food, and plans the days. he also sometimes will hand make little gadgets (safe ofc) to occupy peter. he gets peter little engineering/inventing kits and will hold back any groans he has as peter hits his leg with a plastic hammer and screwdriver. he also is the one who is ALWAYS there, when he cries, when he's happy, when he's sad.

thor- he lets peter play with his hair, and even lets the boy snuggle, and sometimes even chew on, mjolnir (because of course peter would be worthy)

steve rogers- he lets peter look at and hold the shield. one day he finds the boy curled like a cat dosing on the inside of it

natasha- she speaks in russian to him, and when he goes outside to the park, shes there making sure no one disturbs him

wanda+sam (i had an idea for them when i originally thought of this, but i cant remember it now :/)

bucky- he lets peter also mess with his hair, although more rare than thor, but he does let peter suck on his metal fingers when hes really small, and will scratch peters scalp with it, the metal scratching much better than normal skin. also if he ever gets a fever, the cold of the arm feels amazing on his forehead

bruce- not strictly canon since hes more sciency than doctor, but i imagine bruce is the one who does checkups and takes care of the meds when peter is sick

stephen- he doesnt do it often, plus he's not at the tower much, but hell do little harmless "magic" tricks to excite Peter and when peter gets grumpy, stephen will give him a little stress spell thing to calm peter down

peter quill- i imagine hes the one who is down to do lots of fun stuff, but is also the most reckless towards the actions suited towards littles, getting a lot of scolding from tony. also, he has great taste in music, so when peter has bursts of energy, he'll bounce around the room dancing to old 80s music

rocket- hes the closest peters ever gonna get to a pet, and with lots of bribing from tony, rocket /occasionally/ lets peter pet him and feed him "treats", sometimes peter will ask rocket to do a trick like jump or spin, but rocket with always decline...at first. peters trademark pouts do the trick because either rocket will concede and hurt his pride, or tony will see and threaten rocket into making his little boy happy. its always worth it to see the happy little squirms and claps

gamora- she's the resident story teller. when its bedtime, she'll share her cool space stories, leaving out the gory/scarier aspects. it always does the trick as hes out in minutes. sometimes hell catch her and peter q engaging in loving activities (ie kissing, hugging, whatever), and he'll just giggle away, and as embarrassed as gamora gets, not being an openly affectionate person, she might just go to the extreme to hear the cute giggles out of the little boy

clint- hes pretty chill with peter. he also likes to play games with the boy, playing things like peek-a-boo when he's super small, or playing darts when he feels older. tony isnt /too/ happy about it, but its better than quill so he doesnt say anything.

pepper is there too because i love the idea of tony working away somewhere and pepper calling peter in, handing him a few sheets of paper, sometimes actual documents, sometimes just scratch paper to entertaim the boy, before asking peter to deliver them to tony. she always has a smile when peter eagerly nods with his whole body before running to the office to give tony the papers. it almost always ends with peter in his lap, but it /always/ ends in tony praising him, saying something along the lines of 'theres my little helper boy. look at you'

---

--on any particular day peter wakes up aged up, he doesn't even miss his old internship because this life is so much better, although on these days tony actually lets him help with some safer stuff in the lab with him

--also, they are still the avengers and still have to save the universe. tony leaves him in the care of Happy or Pepper, trusting them both to handle him. sometimes, it ends in disaster. sometimes, they are lucky enough to find happy laying on the couch, with a drooling little boy soaking his suit

--no matter how things end up, it never gets old being able to come home and cuddle up with the reason tony wants to save the universe.

--its no surprise peter is able to help the man just as much as tony helps him. tony stops locking himself up so late at night so he can put peter to bed and cuddle up. he stops drinking when he's stressed, instead finding his boy and reading a story to him. his hookups end, he wants to be there for peter all the time. he gets more work done, the added bonus of having a pretty little boy in his lap helping keep his mind on track.

--tony still has his canon issues, but having peter there makes everything a little more manageable. and when he eventually gets too old to be ironman, its okay, because his universe is lying in bed, a red pacifier in his mouth, and a family of superheroes softly arguing about who the boy loves most

--and despite tony being a narcissist, he knows this is not that, when he thinks that without a doubt he is peters favorite. after all, peter helped him see the good inside the bad

---

so uh yeah thats all i had to say. maybe in the future it will become an actual thing, idk. i still have so many projects im working on first. feel free to add whatever you want to it though !!