#like kiddo cannot catch a break

[hydrachea]

Thinking about how this confirmed Dan Heng and Blade put aside their many many many differences that one time so they could beat up a kid nearly to death. Guys...

[fastandcarlos]

Red Or Papaya : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: when fred vasseur starts hanging out at mclaren, people are wondering why. little do people know there’s a little connection joining these together into an unlikely friendship

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landowins101, landoscarfan and 4,589 others

f1gossip: fans are questioning why ferrari team principal fred vasseur was found in the mclaren garage over the weekend, inviting himself to be of the celebrations for lando norris’ maiden victory.

574 comments

username1: i don't get it, why would you celebrate with a rival team?? 🤔

username2: it's the big smile on his face for me... 😭

username3: i did not have this on my bingo card wtf is going on

username4: is there something going on here that we don't know about?

username5: have i blinked and missed a chapter or something? 🤯

username6: pls tell me someone can make sense of this, the most unlikely friendship ever

username7: has he not got his own team to be celebrating a podium with?

username8: i've been staring at these photos for hours and i still don't get it

landonorris: idk what you’re implying…clearly I’m just a popular guy 😂🤷🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 784,103 others

ynvasseur: finishing the season with a little company on my summer adventures this year 💕☀️

64,506 comments

alexandrasaintmleux: and here i was thinking i was gonna get to spend my summer with you 💔

ynvasseur: @/alexandrasaintmleux don't tell lando but i plan on bailing just for you

username9: how have they managed to keep this a secret from us all season

landonorris: gonna be the best summer break ever! 🫶🏻

ynvasseur: @/landonorris cannot wait to spend nonstop sunny days with you 💕💕

username10: well...at least now we know why fred and lando are besties

charles_leclerc: sorry have you forgotten the team that your dad is principal for??? 😂

username11: the only mclaren x ferrari crossover i support is carlando

username12: i don't understand how none of us have picked up on this

carlossainz55: hello traitor 🙄

ynvasseur: @/carlossainz55 says the man who's driven for most of the teams on the grid wow 🙂‍↕️

carlossainz55: @/ynvasseur gotta pay the bills somehow kiddo

username13: i can't deal with how cute these photos are omg

username14: no one speak to me for the foreseeable whilst i get over this 😭

oscarpiastri: can you make sure that he comes back in one piece please 😊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, ynvasseur and 1,483,172 others

britishgq: in this week’s edition we catch up with f1 driver lando norris who opens up about his new relationship with the daughter of ferrari’s team principal yn vasseur 🇬🇧🏎️

173,492 comments

username15: obsessed with the fact it was carlos that actually introduced the two of them

username16: he actually sounds like he's so in love this is adorable

landonorris: thank you for a great time british gq!! ❤️

username17: thank you gq for giving us all the gossip we've been searching for

username18: not carlos setting lando up like a proud dad 😂

danielricciardo: how is an article the way I’m finding out about this relationship 😭

username19: i think daniel might've been sleeping under a rock

username20: okay but who does yn support in the constructors next year now?? 🤔

username21: he's literally gushing about her, look how happy he is with her!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, ynvasseur and 349,604 others

mclaren: yn vasseur found hanging around the mclaren garage, does this mean she’s ours now? @/scuderiaferrari

42,182 comments

username22: ferrari come and get your girl...

landonorris: not even safe in my own garage from pap like photos 🤦🏻‍♂️

mclaren: @/landonorris admin sends their apologies

username23: i'm so happy they feel comfortable enough to be public with each other now

oscarpiastri: welcome to the best team in the paddock yn 🤝

username24: the way he hides his face in his neck omg lando

username25: the hottest couple to ever appear on the grid, no one can argue with me on that

danielricciardo: since when were mclaren such a team of stalkers lmao 😂😂😂

username26: just imagine the ferrari admin having a breakdown seeing these photos

username27: is this a transition to papaya that we're seeing before us?? 🧡

ynvasseur: damn i thought you guys were supposed to protect me not throw me under the bus

username28: lando can't even breathe around his own team anymore hahah

scudieraferrari: oh it's on, we're not giving yn up without a fight

mclaren: @/scuderiaferrari when you catch us up in the constructors we'll answer your calls...

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 747,960 others

ynvasseur: i call these photos sneaking into the opposition’s garage and hiding from your dad 😂

67,323 comments

username29: stop the way he looks at her…

landonorris: calling security to get you outta here stalker

ynvasseur: @/landonorris that's alright, i'll just head back over to ferrari ❤️

landonorris: @/ynvasseur wait i'm sorry come back!!! 🧡

username30: as if fred would ever stop yn from going to see the love of her life

maxverstappen1: why are you turning a grown man into a squishy baby wtf is happening here

username31: I watched the interview for the first pic earlier and his face lit up as soon as he saw yn

carmenmmundt: come and visit me like you come and visit lando

ynvasseur: @/carmenmmundt i'm on my way bby 🏃🏻‍♀️

username32: I wish I had a guy who looked at me like this too

oscarpiastri: this kid has not stopped talking about you since you showed up at the garage today 🥺

username33: not yn still calling mclaren the opposition…she’s a ferrari girl still!!

username34: @/username33 she's still bitter at them for peeping on her and lando lmao

georgerussell63: i second oscar here pls tell your boyfriend to change the record

username35: his smile has me feeling things ngl

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 937,506 others

ynvasseur: what ferrari want you to see vs what I get to see…i promise my dad and lando are friends 🥺🍻

78,475 comments

username36: carlando is still in my heart sorry fred 🫶🏻

carlossainz55: i for one am disgusted that ferrari would try and crop papa vasseur out like this...

ynvasseur: @/carlossainz55 thank you for your love and support during these tricky times

username37: i love how fred just can’t stay away whenever lando is near

scuderiaferrari: admin says to stop exposing our posts like this 💔

username38: they’ve got such a special friendship this is adorable

iamrebeccad: can you tell carlos to stop nattering with your boyfriend and get back to the garage so we can go home

ynvasseur: @/iamrebeccad sorry but carlando are refusing to separate

username39: is that fred giving lando a beer two wtf 😂😂

landonorris: no one can deny that fred vasseur now officially loves me more than his own drivers

username40: poor carlos third wheeling the true friendship here 😭

oscarpiastri: wondering where my team mate is only to see he's gone back to his ex

danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri he'll flirt with anyone that guy

username41: ferrari stop depriving us of sweet son in law lando content pls

username42: the look in fred’s eyes, a proud dad if I ever saw one ❤️

charles_leclerc: patiently waiting for fred to invite me for a beer like he does lando like... 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 3,859,684 others

landonorris: we couldn’t decide on red or orange so we settled on blue 💙

583,708 comments

username43: it’s not fair how adorable these two are…

carlossainz55: someone just pass me the sick bucket now please

username44: imagine being poor yn and having to pick a side 😂

maxverstappen1: does that mean you support…red bull???

landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 absolutely not stfu 🤮

username45: forever my fave couple in the paddock

username46: it’s a good job blue suits you guys so well! 💙

ynvasseur: the only person i'd wear any other colour but red for

username47: fred must be so happy his daughter has found such a good guy in lando

danielricciardo: tell me you're a secret red bull fan without telling me you're a secret red bull fan 🤷🏻

ynvasseur: @/danielricciardo 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

username48: if these two ever breakup i will officially give up on love

charles_leclerc: i hope you look after our girl norris

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc i'll treat her like the queen that she is dw 👑

username49: yn really is winning at life isn’t she

username50: look at their faces my heart is racing 😍

oscarpiastri: can you put yn down and hurry your ass up to briefing now

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[winterrrnight]

babe I just had the best idea for a rafe concept it pains me

Okay so imagine like reader is at work (somewhere idk where) and she just gets so overwhelmed but her and rafes relationship is still new so she doesn't call him because she doesn't wanna bother him....😭

I'm probably not the first person to think of this but it ON MY MINDDDD

literally dropped everything to write this!!!! this reader is way too me coded and I cannot :’) thank you so so much for the req vee 🥹💗 you asked for a concept… I wrote a fic…. :D I hope you like this vee <3

down for you

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe wants you to be able to rely on him for anything and everything.

WARNINGS: the reader is a preschool teacher and quite self dependent; lots of fluff; cute nicknames; lovesick rafe (my fav fr); minimal swearing

EDITH SPEAKS: this request speaks volumes to me 🥹 this is way too me coded, and I just had to write it, I hope you all like this! the ending is maybe a bit abrupt tho :( please like and reblog if you liked reading <3 feedback is always appreciated 🍹

navigation || join my taglist || requests

I should leave, I haven't yet, but when you smile, I just forget

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You can swear this day can't get any worse. You’ve been on your feet basically the entire day, always rushing from your students here to there. You love the little kiddos with your entire heart, but today, for some reason, they are being an extra pain in the ass. They aren’t as cooperative as you’d prefer; you don’t know what’s gotten into them, they are like little energy packets constantly running around.

Due to some teacher duties you aren’t even able to sit down for your lunch break, taking away the only 15 minutes you have to yourself. And it just gets progressively worse when you finally leave the school to go back to your place and your car has a slashed tire, and today had to be the day when you don’t have a spare tire in your trunk.

It’s been over 6 hours since you left your house this morning, and it’s just Tuesday, but it’s feeling like the longest, most excruciating week ever. You’re now leaning against your car door, letting out a deep exhale as you lean your head back, feeling a headache creep into your brain and pulse harshly. You’re tired, hungry, absolutely exhausted… and all you want are the warm hugs of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Rafe is quite a new addition in your life, both of you being together for a mere month. He’s been so loving to you, always protective and just genuinely taking great care of you.

You pull out your phone and find his contact, but before you can dial him, your thumb hovers over his name in sudden realization – he’s always at work at this time.

You begin to contemplate your initial decision of asking him to come here to help you out, and then ultimately decide against it, realizing he’s probably very busy at work, and would only be heavily distracted if you call him.

So, just like how you always do it, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It’s nearing 6 pm when you finally get to reach your place. You had to make calls to get yourself a mechanic to get your car fixed, who took his sweet sweet time to come to you. You’re now completely exhausted, wanting nothing more than just to plop on your bed and sleep till your heart desires. You can hear your stomach grumble since you never had the chance to eat the lunch you missed out on, but you make it a problem for later, deciding to just take a nap first.

As you drive into your driveway, you recognise Rafe’s black Range Rover already parked, with him standing next to it, leaning back against the hood of his car as he’s looking intently at his phone. As he catches the sound of your car driving, he instantly looks up, watching your car enter the driveway.

Before you can properly park and get out, Rafe rushes to you, opening the door for you.

“Oh my god where have you been?” He asks you, his voice laced with concern. “I tried calling you and texting you, you always come back home by late afternoon,”

You step out of the car and Rafe shuts the door, a hand quickly landing at the small of your back as you both walk to the porch of your house. He can see you’re really tired; droopy eyes, heavy steps, deep sighs; he knows something happened.

“Yeah my phone died,” you mutter as you unlock the main door of your house, both of you stepping inside. “I just… today was kind of a heavy day, nothing much honestly,” you shrug as you toss your keys in the dish and remove your coat and shoes.

“What happened?” Rafe asks, still really concerned for you as he watches you take off your cost and hang it on the coat rack. As you’re done, you face him with a small smile on your face.

“Nothing much, really,” you say softly, gently cupping his cheek with a hand and tenderly caressing his skin. “Don’t worry, yeah?” You mumble, taking your hand off his cheek as you make your way to the kitchen.

Rafe stays on your heels, following you and monitoring every single move of yours – your padding till the fridge, opening it, getting a bottle of water, unscrewing it and drinking from it.

“You look so exhausted, I can see it in your eyes,” he comments. “Your hair is all messy, your clothes are dirty; it’s clearly not nothing. Come on, tell me, what happened,”

His voice is stern, but not in an angry way; but in an apprehensive way. He moves his hand to your face, gently brushing your hair as he fixes some of the unruly strands.

As you finish drinking your water; drinking almost all of it in one go, you keep your bottle aside and let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “It was just one of those… heavy days, but it’s over now yeah? I’m now home,” you say softly.

“But just tell me what happened,” Rafe’s voice now drops to a whisper as he moves closer to you, continuing to weave his fingers through your hair.

You close your eyes for a moment, delving into the relaxing feeling of Rafe’s fingers softly combing through your hair, but also realizing he’s going to keep pressing for you to tell him what happened.

“The kids were a bit uncooperative today,” you say with a soft chuckle. “And then we have this event coming up at school, so I was busy for my entire lunch break preparing for it. And then my car had a flat tire and I didn’t have a spare so I had to get a mechanic, which took most of the time. But besides that, nothing much happened,” you say with a small shrug.

“Besides all that?” Rafe mutters incredulously. “That’s already a lot, baby, why didn’t you call me when you found out about your flat tire? I would’ve come; or sent someone to get you, we would’ve had lunch in my office, and I would have had someone take care of the tire and bring your car back too.” There’s a small frown on his face and he now holds your face in both his hands, gently skimming your cheeks with his thumbs.

You look up in his soft, baby blue eyes. “I did think of calling you but-”

“But?”

“But I thought…” you take a deep breath, your eye contact with him faltering. “you’ll be busy, and I didn’t want to be a burden to you, really, I was able to get it all fixed just fine,”

You can hear Rafe tsk; his tongue clicking against his teeth as he softly shakes his head. “I’m never busy for you okay? My work does not ever get more importance than you, okay? It never does, and it never will, especially when you’re in trouble and need help,”

He gently grips your chin and tips your head back just a bit, making you look at him. His eyes are softened, the blue even more warmer than usual.

“I know you prefer to do things on your own,” he whispers, “but you have to realise that you really don’t need to do each thing on your own, especially now that I’m around. I won’t mind, really, and besides, I would love to show everyone off at work that I am the boyfriend of the most beautiful person on this damn planet yeah?”

You can’t help but chuckle softly at his words as you keep looking in his eyes.

“So, promise me, next time you need any sorts of help, want me to do something for you, or just want me to be there, you don’t think twice about calling me up okay?” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He can see the reluctancy in your eyes, but you eventually give in and nod.

“Okay, promise,” you murmur, smiling as you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He gladly hugs you back, snuggling his face in your neck as he gently rubs your back.

“So…” you speak up, and he hums back in response, both of you still hugging.

“I’ll take up on that offer right now. I’ll go and shower, and you make something for me to eat yeah?”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

[witchofthesouls]

I just read your seeker bird kiddo (Jack) and Truck dad Optimus adventures and I beg for more content, I adore it all and the spOoky cryptic parts are 👌

👁️👄👁️

Jack accidentally triggers mechs’ protective instincts because he makes baby bird noises to mimic the local corvids. It doesn't help that Jack parks himself at the entrance to the Ark and plays games with the more playful blackbirds. Dadimus is very much used to Jack’s imitations, the rest of the Autobots (and his counterpart) are most definitely not.

The chirping and screes are reminiscent of newsparks’ calls for attention and care, and it drives the resident Seekerkin up the wall because he is the only sparkling in the vicinity and Jack punches the Seekerkin-coding into activity after four million years of dormancy.

There have been a few jokes to take a recording of the sparkling’s noises and play it to the Decepticon Seekers after the Autobots had seen their own Seekerkin with the kid. TFP Optimus is immediately No. Stop. Control, Alt, and Delete that terrible plan. He will take Jack and run into the most remote environments he can find.

No one knows how Jack did it, but the blackbirds got into gambling, and everyone blames Smokescreen. 

He's partly to blame with the cards, but the dice is Bluestreak's fault.

Jack is a polite menace. The kid knows his manners, but that doesn't stop him from skipping up the walls, hanging on the ceiling, and popping into places that he shouldn't have access to. At all.

Mechs were confused why Dadimus pinged out so often but then realized that's the most reliable way to actually tag Jack as he's a slippery little thing. Sometimes the sparkling responds, but usually he doesn't.

Red Alert is on the verge of having an aneurysm since Jack can bypass all the security measures. Mechs have taken to looking up to see if Jack is trapezing on the panels or checking under the tables and desks because of near unfortunate incidents of almost shooting the kid or shock-related delays with time-sensitive chemical reactions that nearly turned the ship into a massive crater.

Dadimus was highly disappointed and upset by the last part as Jack knows better as he had done similar stunts when they were upon research vessels. Not only Jack had to apologize to Skyfire, Wheeljack, and Perceptor, but he wasn't allowed to stray from Dadimus' field for a month. ("Curiosity cannot override safety protocols.")

On one camera, Jack would be at a corner by the entrance with organic birds, and between blinks he would then disappear and reappear across the ship, talking excitedly to a random corner with a different group of birds.

(If anyone catches them at the right second, at the right angle, at the right frame... the raven/crow/jackdaw/jay will ripple. Feathers dripping and flowing like an inky waterfall and eyes splitting into multiple, countless pairs as Jack's shadow expands- And then, the watcher will blink because they have to, and the footage will reset. Devoid of Jack and blackbirds.)

There's talk about new cryptids going around. It's silly Halloween and superstitious nonsense… until it isn't.

Due to Smokescreen, Bluestreak, and the Aerialbots constantly monitoring the perimeter or setting traps that are becoming more elaborate each week, it's becoming a new running joke. It's the Autobot snipe-hunting. All because of Jack's devoted drawings of strange, contorted creatures.

They're adamant that something is outside.

(They’re right).

An eerie thing begins to appear at the nearby dunes by the Ark’s entrance. It’s vaguely canine and its size is constantly changing. They can smell a wildfire in the air and taste ash upon their tongues as it beckons them to follow with a heavy, burning gaze. 

Before anyone follows, a racket of shrieking blackbirds breaks them out of the trance. When the piercing noise fails, then a nasty peck to some skin or exposed protoform is enough to bring them back to their senses.

“It’s looking for something that can’t be regained,” Jack speaks with a keenness beyond his age and a lilting cadence. A flurry of pictures of the same dark canine by a campfire with multiple individuals and groups sitting by it. It remains unchanged, despite the others’ fashions and vehicles it managed to beckon to it. “Don’t be taken by its ancient sorrow. You won’t escape its grasp.”

Between the space of desert and forest, there’s an old barbwire fence and a seemingly endless dusty dirt road that has never been updated to proper asphalt, despite its existence for over a century and all the grumbles and complaints by humans and Cybertronians.

When it rains, a phantom of a massive stag appears. Dark and regal, it gently trods along the path, always towards the forest, never in the opposite direction. Perched upon its twisted antlers is an owl with multiple wings, spread out and spotted with many painted eyes, a feathered and watchful halo with a cry that echoes in everyone’s ears and audials. It leaves no tracks, just deep puddles with flickering shapes in its vast depths that immediately dry when people look away.

The mechs start to understand that the local humans’ grumblings and complaints are half-hearted, and when it starts to drizzle, everyone stays inside. 

“It’s older than all those that vaguely remember its beginnings,” Jack murmurs to a window full of drawings in the condensation, sleepy in the colder weather as he curls in a heated seat. “Dreaming and wandering, yet always returning to the place that crowned it King.”

[brumeraven]

🍂: Interview with a Boundless Candidate || dolls, boundless, creativity, transformations, saints, cute?, sorry to the confused

"Please state your name for the record."

"..."

"Nothing?"

"names are...well, they can't be self-assigned."

"Good catch. Sorry about the trick question, but you understand why we have to make you jump through all these hoops."

"it's fine."

"How long have you lived as a doll?"

"my whole life. or, well, maybe that's just how i've been treated."

"How you've been treated?"

"sorry, how this one has been treated."

"So the whole world treats you like a doll?"

"more or less, this one supposes."

"But how long has it been since you decided to just accept it? To stop fighting back and just give up your personhood?"

"it did not make the decision; this is...it's just the way it is. the way it's always been."

"Mm, fair. Dolls don't choose."

"dolls don't choose."

"And you believe that you'll be happier as a doll?"

"i...it has never really...understood the concept of happiness."

"You're unhappy being treated this way?"

"this one has never seen happiness as attainable."

"But you need this to feel comfortable?"

"no, not really."

"Then what exactly do you expect to get out of this?"

"congruence. alignment of expectations and reality."

"My point is, what do YOU want out of this? You, not the people around you."

"...this one does not want anything."

"Rather not say?"

"no."

"Well, let me take a stab at it. You just want to feel wanted. Want to be given worth, want to be a valued pet, a cherished possession, because you can't find any self-worth, so you need extrinsic reassurance your life has purpose and meaning."

"..."

"You're afraid of responsibility. Afraid of agency. Afraid of fucking up your own life any more than you already have. You'd rather a Witch, or even a human, fuck it up for you. At least it wouldn't be your fault, then; at least you could pretend you're worth shit."

"..."

"Well let me tell you something, kiddo; those are bad fucking reasons to throw away your humanity. Because, hate to break it to you, but you aren't worth shit just because someone likes you."

"it's not like that. not for this one."

"No? Then why don't you tell me what it is, hm?"

"it's just...well, efficient."

"Efficient?"

"i can't stand it. this one cannot stand it. it wastes so much time worrying about what to do, what not to do, prioritizing and tracking and deciding."

"You're looking for...what exactly?"

"this one has value; it is certain of it. it is capable of great things and has several useful skills. time management is not one of them. it's greatest fear is that it will waste its entire existence shaving yaks."

"Shaving...yaks?"

"it simply wishes to be able to work without the cruft of life getting in the way. without wasting its time worrying about what it should be doing at any given time."

"...So you want a manager, not a master."

"this one wants a scrum master."

"..."

Interviewer Comments: NOT THE WORST REASON I'VE HEARD

Verdict: ACCEPTED

~🍂

[lefaystrent]

Me, Myself, and These Guys Who Kinda Look Like Me Ch. 5

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Thomas/The Sides

Summary: It starts with dreams. Then Thomas starts seeing the dream people in the waking world.

Thomas doesn't know how to bring it up to anybody or if he even should at this point.

AKA, Thomas has to acknowledge the six colorful characters in the room, much to their long-awaited delight.

Ao3 Link: click here

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

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

Patton, as it turns out, cannot cook. At all.

To be fair, none of them ever had the chance to gain prior experience. The singular two times the others did cook, it had been oatmeal and ramen. Not exactly complex meals.

They appeared to be relatively competent adults though. They had been observing Thomas for years and should be aware of the basics of cooking.

Oh. That's where things went wrong, didn't it? They had been watching Thomas. Not Gordon Ramsey. Thomas Sanders.

Thomas knows how to scramble eggs at least. The thing in Patton's pan right now? Not eggs.

"I just went to the bathroom for like a minute," Thomas says in that way that clearly means, "what the fuck happened?"

"Everything is fine," Patton claims over the smoking pan. "Question though, do you like your eggs extra crispy, or...?"

Thomas would just like to have a skillet after this.

The pan chooses that moment to inexplicably catch on fire. Which shouldn't be possible, but so were plenty of other things that Thomas has experienced in his life lately. Why not this too?

Thomas screams. Patton starts screaming too. Then Patton, in his hurried desperation to right the situation, goes to grab the pan not by the handle like a sane person but where the fire is. With his bare hands. Thomas knows they just had a conversation about how they couldn't truly feel pain, but that doesn't stop the spike of panic as he watches the disaster in slow motion.

Between one blink to another, Virgil appears. He doesn't rise up like Roman demonstrated yesterday. He bamfs in right beside Patton, snapping at him to stand back. Startled, Patton dodges back as Virgil takes control. He pulls the sleeve of his hoodie down over the handle to act as an unconventional potholder, and he rushes the pan to the sink. More smoke billows from the water splashing against the hot pan and the fowl smell of burnt eggs permeates the air.

"What were you trying to do?!" Virgil screeches, and Thomas senses that it's a rhetorical question meant to just make them reevaluate their life choices up to this point, but Patton answers anyway.

"My best!"

Virgil curses and ensures that all of the fire is extinguished before sagging where he stands. He leaves the tap on, either just in case or too tired to shut it off. Patton tiptoes up to him and tugs sheepishly at his shoulder.

"Kiddo? I'm sorry."

"Don't do that," Virgil growls. He holds himself up over the sink, hands braced on either side. "Way to scare the living daylights outta me."

"It's probably more my fault," Thomas cringes. "I left him without supervision."

"Aw, Thomas! Now just because you needed a potty break does not mean it's your fault! We're all adults here."

"Adults don't say 'potty' to each other," Virgil groans. He reaches over the sink and cracks open the window to let out the influx of smoke. "And do you realize how close you were to burning Thomas's apartment down?"

"Well, it was just the eggs–" Thomas tries to alleviate the tension, but Virgil whirls on him.

"It doesn't matter! What would you guys have done if I hadn't showed up when I did? Would you have just stood there screaming? Would you have grabbed the pan and knocked it over and then the fire caught onto something? You have to be more careful!"

Thomas and Patton shuffle guiltily. They could have handled the situation better, in hindsight. No excuses really. Thomas can envision that happening, the two of them freaking out so hard that they create an even bigger danger mess. What would Thomas have done if flames really did spread? Hurt himself trying to put it out like Patton had almost done? Run screaming and forget to call emergency services? They were lucky that Virgil stepped in, and it sounded like they had really scared him.

"Thank you, Virgil," Thomas says. "For coming when you did."

"Yeah, Virge, that was good timing."

"Did you know?" Thomas asks. Could they sense things from in their rooms? Like, could Virgil see what they were up to and came running?

Virgil scowls and crosses his arms around himself. "No? I guess my spidey sense told me that you guys were doing something stupid. Thought I'd check in. You're just lucky I was here."

"Yeah, you're right. Thank you," Thomas expresses again, and he puts effort into showing his gratitude with his eyes.

Thomas isn't sure, but Virgil's eyes might have gone a little glassy at that. Before he can confirm, Virgil spins around and shuts off the sink. "No need to thank me. Your pan's probably ruined anyway. And if you're hungry, I'll make you some more oatmeal. No one touch anything. Please."

Thomas politely requests toast to go with it because he craves carbs, and Virgil gives a long-suffering sigh and shoos them out of the kitchen.

"Do you think he's mad at us?" Thomas asks Patton when they're in the living room. He keeps his voice hushed. "What am I saying, of course he's mad."

"I think he's just worried. That's his way of showing he cares."

"I can't believe you guys tried to set the house on fire without me."

They both squawk and Patton falls over onto the couch at Remus's sudden appearance behind them. A smile curls up Remus's lips, his mustache twitching left and right, and his eyes narrow in glee. Virgil looks up sharply at the disturbance, notes Remus has joined them, and dismisses it with an eye roll. He continues bustling around the kitchen.

"We wouldn't do that to Thomas's home! ...on purpose."

"Lame. Next time, instead of cooking oil you should try kerosene."

Thomas, a man who loves to eat raw cookie dough, knows his limits. "That is not edible."

"No it's edible, just not advisable."

And there's Logan rising up. Thomas embraces the fact that his house will never be empty anymore. He crawls onto the couch beside Patton. If that puts Patton between him and the others, well that's just a bonus. He gives in to the urge to hide and rests his head on Patton's shoulder, more or less curling up into a ball against his side.

Remus bounces his hip against Logan to make him stagger. "Some people used to think lobotomy was advisable. Depends on who's doing the advising, don'tchya think?"

"Let me rephrase then, kerosene contains hydrocarbons which, were it to be consumed, could result in impaired breathing and eyesight, as well as internal burns, rapidly declining blood pressure, convulsions, coma-"

"Were you saying something, Nerdy Wolverine? All I'm hearing is blah blah blah."

It's entertaining to see how similar Remus interacts with Logan as Logan does with Roman. It's the flair for the dramatic and sass clashing with Logan's tendency towards the literal and common sense.

"Do you think they'd notice if we left?" Thomas whispers to Patton jokingly. When the other doesn't respond, Thomas looks at him.

Patton sits incredibly taut. His fingers bunch up in the material of his khaki pants. His eyes are glazed and out of focus, staring ahead and seeing nothing. Thomas doesn't think that he's breathing. Do they need to breathe?

Oh. Thomas should have asked first before invading his personal space.

"Sorry," Thomas says softly and scoots away, putting distance between them.

"Hm?" Patton hums absently. He blinks like he's coming back online and his head lolls around to Thomas. "What did you say?"

Thomas shakes his head quickly and hurries to busy himself with his phone. "Nothing, don't worry about it."

Patton doesn't quite frown, but he's pensive and pondering. Thankfully, he doesn't push and lets the awkwardness go.

Thomas berates himself internally. Why did he do that without asking first? Or just sit on the other end of the couch? He had been caught up in the emotions that they had shared earlier. This thing between all of them, this developing two-way friendship, is only just budding. He has to give it time for everyone's sake and not get ahead of himself.

If he's honest, his own needs are to blame. He could really use a hug. He's been cooped up in his apartment for days and he misses interacting with people. Like...normal people? Gosh, is that a rude thing to think about? He likes these people, he does... He just wants an unconditional display of affection with no weird strings attached.

Is it a good or bad thing that he doesn't have a boyfriend right now? He can't fathom how that would go. Who would want to stay with a person who is constantly haunted by dream people? Wait, wait, that raises the excellent question of what will Thomas eventually do when he does meet someone and gets back into dating? Is this– is this for the rest of his life?

Thomas can't pretend his attention is focused on his phone. It's not and the screen is black from disuse.

He didn't mean to face his impending fears this early in the morning.

Compartmentalize. He needs to do what Logan taught him yesterday. He needs to put these worries in a box, lock it up tight, and push it into the background. He's still recovering, and he hasn't learned everything about them yet. Let him deal with this when he has the energy and all of the facts.

Down the couch, he doesn't notice that Patton watches him with a pained expression.

***

After breakfast, Thomas evades the others by engaging his worst enemy.

Chores.

His hamper overflows from fire fits of days past. He tosses them in the washer, guesstimates how much detergent to pour in, and then starts the wash. He sets a timer on his phone on the off chance he remembers to obey the alarm and switch the load.

He stares at his bed in its sweat-stained sheety glory. It would take him all day along with his clothes.

No, Thomas, you will not be a gremlin. You're feeling better now, toughen up.

The gremlin part of his brain claws for a compromise. He has spare sheets. He can replace them now and wash the dirty ones tomorrow.

Changing them is easier said than done. The dirty ones come off swift, but the clean ones? Why does it take all the muscles in your body just to get a fitted sheet on a mattress? And by the time you've got wrangled the rest of the blankets and pillow cases? Phew, what a work out.

Thomas lays exhausted on the freshly made bed. He used to work out sort of, you know, before he got sick. Now he's a shadow of his former self. He shouldn't be this out of breath and wanting a nap. How weak, pathetic. A tiny whiny man.

...right, he's still sick.

He heaves himself up and tosses back some more ibuprofen. The fever hasn't returned exactly, or if it has it's relatively low. His joints protest like the old man he is, and there are other mild aches. If he pushes himself too fast, too soon, he'll just end up miserable. And he'll do anything to avoid that wretched migraine from coming back.

He lays back on the bed again, sideways across it with his legs hanging off. He basks in the comfiness. The others didn't follow him up or ask questions, for which he is glad. He doesn't want them looking at him like lost puppies whenever he leaves the room.

He stares at the popcorn ceiling and makes out shapes as if they are clouds.

He's going to have to change a lot of his routine, once he gets in the swing of it again. Maybe establish some boundaries? Even if they promise to respect his privacy, he isn't sure he'll ever be able to sleep naked again. Which sucks because that's his preferred method of pajamas. Clothes are terribly confining.

And what will he tell his family? His friends? He doesn't know if he can keep this a secret. He's incredibly inept at lying to those who know him. He gets too skittish, too overcompensating. It's laughable. They've already been worried enough about him these past couple of weeks, and that's just when he thought he was going insane. They'd see through any farce.

He can just never leave his apartment ever again. Is that an option? No one will ever suspect.

Actually, would anyone be able to see them anyway? If he walked outside his house, could his neighbors see them strolling along in the parking lot? And if they were now visible to everyone, would this bring like, government attention to him? What if authorities start questioning why these six guys who live with him don't have birth certificates or social security numbers?

Thomas daydreams city officials stopping by his house wielding warrants. "Sir, you're under arrest for harboring illegal dream people." And then he'd have a criminal record, and all his loved ones discover his dirty secret anyway. Awesome. Fantastic.

"Do you ever feel....like a plastic bag," Thomas sings quietly to himself. He sighs and rolls over onto his side.

Roman is reclined on the bed beside him. It's interesting, because it doesn't scare him right out of his pants (ha, Nightmare Before Christmas referrence). He's getting too used to them randomly popping up now. Man, he's really gotta have the boundaries talk sooner than later, doesn't he?

But it's not so bad. Roman lays there flat on his back, gazing up at the ceiling as Thomas had been. He wonders if Roman is mapping out pictures too, creating life where there once was none.

"I always loved to hear you sing," Roman confides. His arm floats in the air, hand dancing to an unknown tempo. "And perform. I used to memorize the lines right alongside you. I sang like I was a part of the show and not just an onlooker. I would pretend..."

His face is open and lost in memories. Thomas forgets his worries for the moment. The poignant tone of Roman's words, the underlying passion, it's entrancing in its tragedy.

Like Thomas's problems can ever compare to theirs.

"What would you pretend?" Thomas asks, hushed and gentle and not wanting to break the atmosphere.

The barest bit of pink tints Roman's cheeks. His lips quirk up as he glances at him from the corner of his eye. "I used to pretend I was you. Someone I respected and admired more than anything."

Thomas resists the urge to cover his face in a fit of bashfulness. It's not like he often has pretty guys in his bed waxing poetically about him. And here he has a literal Prince Charming who has been his unknowing personal backup singer for years.

Roman's smile morphs into a wince. He flops his arm down onto the bed. "My apologies, Thomas. I can't imagine how daunting this situation is for you. If you should need anything, even if it's for us to give you space, you have but to ask. I don't wish for us to burden you."

"You're not a burden," Thomas replies automatically, stubbornly.

Aren't they though? the ugly voice in the back of his mind says. He viciously beats it down and shoves it in his mental basement. He won't be that kind of person.

Roman turns his head to look at him, eyebrow raised. "Just earlier we set a fire. This is only the second day since achieving corporealness."

"In all fairness, it wasn't that bad. And Virgil was there to put it out. So it balanced out."

"Yeah, Virgil's good like that," Roman muses. He's scanning Thomas's face, searching for something. It reminds him of the subdued way he looked at the others last night, after he offered to carry Thomas to bed. The bit of cautious wonder. Of tender hope.

Thomas thrums a cadence with his fingers into the bed sheets. "I talked to Patton this morning..."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Thomas nods. Well, as much as a person can nod while laying on their side. "Yeah. We kinda...talked about the situation, more or less. I told him I want to help you guys."

Roman is nothing short of stunned. Flabbergasted. Gut-punched.

They can't think that poorly of him, can they? To think it's that out of character for him? Roman just said he admires him. Thomas clings onto that.

"You do?" Roman squeaks out, and Thomas hates how bemused he sounds.

"Yeah, what I can I mean," he pours sincerity into his words. "I don't know how much a guy like me can do, but I'd like to try. I'm not going to kid myself and say this will be a walk in the park, but I'm sure we can all figure out something together. And... uh, if you want. I don't know if you'd be interested, but I'd love to sing with you sometime. If you want, I mean. Your voice, I mean, it's good. Really good. But only if you want, of course."

As he fumbles his speech, Thomas reminds himself repeatedly that Roman just expressed an interest in doing as much, and no this is not being too presumptuous.

Roman springs up, bolt upright. There's a feral, hungry glee that shakes him and he nearly squeals out, "Really?! Really really?!"

"Really really," Thomas promises, smiling up at him. The excitement is infectious and Roman launches into a whole tirade of song choices.

"We could do Hamilton! Or Disney! I'll make a man out of you! It's the boppiest bop to ever bop! Or no wait, a ballad! We could do a ballad! A piano cover of something. Better yet, we can write our own song! Thomas! Thomas, I have so many ideas, you have no idea!"

Thomas has awoken his inner child. It's Christmas and Fourth of July clashing in showers of sparks. There are stars in Roman's eyes, and he holds his fists up, knuckles covering a wild grin. He's bouncing in place on the bed and it's the cutest thing Thomas has ever seen.

"I'd like to hear them," Thomas says.

Roman needs no more prompting. He stretches out on the bed again, laying on his stomach. He kicks his feet up behind him whimsically while he gushes and makes callbacks to Thomas's past videos and expands off of those. He's talking a mile-a-minute and Thomas hardly needs to contribute. Nor does he want to. He wouldn't dream of interrupting.

This bit of his morning is not a chore. It's a privilege.

***

Lunch time rolls around. They only become aware of this in the midst of their brainstorming session because Remus throws open the door.

The closet door.

"Did someone order a pizza?!" he screeches loud enough to make ears bleed.

Roman's reaction is to grab the nearest object (a pillow) and catapult it at the intruder. Remus karate chops is out of the air.

"Have you ever heard of knocking!" Roman bellows. "Me and Thomas are having an important discussion that doesn't involve you!"

"You've been hogging him since yesterday! It's my turn to ride on Thomas the Dank Engine!"

"I haven't been hogging him!"

"Little piggy say what?"

"I haven't been hogging him! Just because you're jealous–"

"Oink oink oink! Here a pig, there a pig, everywhere a pig pig!"

"Why are you so insufferably juvenile?!"

"Uh, bitch, why do you have a stick up your ass? And not the good kind!"

"Fellas," Thomas says most agreeably, sitting up and clasping his hands in his lap. "I think we need to take a deep breath."

They both cut themselves off mid-insults. They glance at him, and yes it's clear that even though Thomas was the subject they were fighting over, they had forgotten he was there or that he can now witness their spats.

And gosh, isn't that bizarre? They're fighting over him.

Roman crosses his arms and sulks, appearing contrite. Remus puts his hands behind his back and whistles in a poor imitation of innocence.

These two might be worse together than Logan with either of them. That's just impressive.

Thomas clears his throat and embodies his best mediator persona. "Now Remus, was there a reason you came in here? You said something about pizza?"

Roman mutters, "He was making a stupid porn joke."

"You're stupid," Remus snipes back. Before Roman can sputter out a defense, Remus bounds over and snatches up Thomas's hands in his. "There's food downstairs ready for you. The nerd said it's important for you to eat to keep your energy up or whatever. I suggested you should just eat batteries, but nobody ever listens to me."

"I wonder why," Roman growls, but Thomas is already being dragged out of his room. Remus keeps an iron grip on his fingers and pulls him along.

There's an erratic edge to Remus's words while he babbles to Thomas. It's mostly nonsensical ideas, like a stream of consciousness gone straight to brain rot. It's peculiar as it is demanding of attention. A train crash he can't look away from.

As they descend the stairs, Thomas stares at their joined hands. He considers Remus's words from before. How much do the others really listen to him? Or to each other in general? What hidden dynamics are at play here?

The others are all waiting for them below minus Bowler Hat. The table is set for one, and it's actually not pizza. It's pan-seared porkchops with broccoli and mashed potatoes. His nostrils flair as the smell wafts over him. His stomach rumbles appreciatively.

"You guys didn't have to do all this," Thomas protests. He lets Remus steer him to the chair and plop him down. He keeps his hands on his shoulders. "I know I've been sick, but I can make my own food now."

Virgil gestures to the murdered pan in the sink. "Let's just say for all our sakes, we don't mind."

"Yes, it's no issue," Logan chips in. "We are more than capable of providing you with assistance. It is no trouble, I assure you."

"I set the table," Patton says with a tiny smile. "No more stove privileges for silly ole me!"

Roman indulges him with a clap on the back. "You did well, Padre. And everyone else! This is a meal fit for a king!"

Virgil scoffs, "It's just meat and veggies. It's not a big deal."

"I forgot I had porkchops," Thomas admits. "When did you guys even take them out to thaw? I didn't notice."

Logan refastens his tie, a little smug, "Last night. I theorized that by today your illness would abate enough to allow you to eat a proper meal."

"Well, I don't know what else to say but thank you." Would this become a thing? Should he let it be a thing? Would it be such a bad thing if he did? They could cook him food if it made them feel useful, and then he could avoid cooking and get to eat it all. Just himself, never sharing.

No, that just– that would be like having servants and would be a weird power hierarchy, and he's just not going to go that route. He's a big boy, he can cook his own dinners.

He picks up his fork to tuck into dinner.

"Are you going to hover over him for the entirety of the meal, Donny Whacko?"

Remus's hands are still clamped on Thomas's shoulders, and he remains standing right behind him. Thomas pauses with his fork in the air. He didn't realize when Remus had grown eerily quiet, but the chattering had indeed stopped, and he grips tighter at Thomas's shoulders.

"Remus?" Patton says, as gentle as a person encroaching on a wild animal that they just want to help. "You gotta let go, buddy."

At once the hands are gone from his shoulders. Then they return on the sides of Thomas's head, spindly fingers holding him in place while Remus delivers a loud smooch to the top of his scalp. Every hair on Thomas's body stands on end.

"Remus!!" literally everyone screams.

"What, like you all haven't been thinking about it too," Remus replies in his reedy voice. "I can't help that you're all horribly repressed."

Furious and flustered, Roman rolls up his sleeves as if he's going to remove Remus by force, but then he suddenly back pedals. His eyes shift from Remus to...something else.

"I do so enjoy you making my job harder," a voice that is certainly not Remus's comes from behind Thomas.

Thomas turns. His peripheral catches a minor struggle of limbs, a flash of yellow, and then nothing. No one stands behind him.

"Why does he have to be so dramatic?" Virgil groans rhetorically.

Logan answers him literally, "He does not have to, it is simply a life choice."

Thomas looks back at them. "Did Remus just get kidnapped?"

Patton attempts to smile through a grimace, "I think it's more like he was given a time-out."

"Was that Bowler Hat?"

"Yeah, he does that sometimes with Remus. Nothing to worry about, kiddo."

Thomas very much worries about it. They can't tell him not to worry about it after that. After Remus kissed him and got sent to baby jail for it. Thomas can't react to the implications of the sign of affection, that in particular is a bit too much right now, but he does race car drift into indignation. Regardless of Remus being overtly clingy, Thomas doesn't think he deserved to be dragged away like that.

HIs reaction is because Remus had just voiced how no one listens to what he says. And the way that his hands didn't want to let go of Thomas. A burgeoning sense of protection has him sitting down his fork.

"I... I think I would have rather talked about it," Thomas tells them. He surprises them, he knows he does. And maybe that's his fault with how readily he's shown to want to avoid the issue so far.

Logan is the first to act. He smooths down the front of his shirt and sits in front of him at the table. "If you would like to discuss, we can."

"No," Thomas shakes his head, tone firm. "I want to talk to you guys. All of you. An important part of handling things is communication, right? And the longer I wait to do this, the more we might misunderstand each other, and I don't want that to happen. I want us all to be comfortable. Not just me, but all of you guys too."

Patton takes a step forward, falters, then presses his index fingers together. "When you say all of us..."

Thomas's eyes narrow. "I mean all six of you. Would that be a problem?"

Patton throws up his hands and waves them around in distress. "No, no! Not at all! That's not what I meant." He too takes a seat. He leans over the table, trying to convey in his expression sincerity. "I'm sorry, it's just that, well we'd like to talk to you. We just don't want to overwhelm you all at once."

"And Bowler Hat, as you call him, may decline to come to the discussion table," Virgil points out.

"Why would he?" Thomas asks. "I just talked to him last night."

"You did?" Virgil spits out, eyes critically assessing. When he sees that Thomas does nothing more than raise a brow, he rolls his shoulders and puts on an unaffected air. "Okay, cool. That's cool. So you weren't...scared?"

"No? Why would I be?" Thomas asks.

No one answers.

Thomas looks from face to face. They're hiding secrets. Every one of them.

"Why would I be?" he says again, more soft in trepidation.

Logan's brows are furrowed. He taps a finger against his chin. "Thomas... did you notice anything...odd regarding his appearance?"

"You mean other than the caplet and gloves?"

"Yes, actually. What else?"

Thomas searches for an answer amongst then. Roman stares holes into Patton who squirms in his seat.

"What am I not getting?" Thomas questions Patton.

And there's the same guilty look in his eyes like this morning at the failed breakfast. "Thomas, how much did you see of him? Was it dark? Did you see him fully I mean? Or remember when you first saw us?"

Not that he noticed. Nothing that–

Hadn't Bowler Hat purposefully avoided him? He had been turned away, looking out the window. And he scurried away to the kitchen with Virgil first thing. And he didn't show back up until it was dark in his room.

"Is he...is he different?" Thomas asks them, borderline scared now. "Is he not the same thing you guys are?"

"Yes and no," Logan answers, too collected, too calculating his words. "He is similar to us in most areas in terms of our attachment to you and the state of our metaphysical beings. The largest difference is in appearance."

"He didn't want," Virgil begins, but trails off when everyone turns to him. He scowls and looks angrily at the floor. "It's not for us to tell. He was just afraid of how you'd react. He can't help the way he looks. He just is."

"The snake's already out of the bag," Roman says, remorseful. "Thomas, it's not that we didn't want to tell you. We just wanted to respect his wishes while giving you time to adjust. But I can see that it's causing you more stress than not. I'm not sure we can manage to convince him to come out, but we can tell you about it. The truth would've had to come out eventually."

He doesn't want them to feel forced to tell him anything.

He also doesn't like them keeping secrets that might affect him and each other.

It's a tousle between being a people pleaser and wanting some modicum of control back over his life.

"I want you guys...to feel like you can talk to me."

"That's all we've ever wanted," Patton whispers.

Thomas closes his eyes. He pushes his plate aside. "Then I think we need to talk."

[sillygoofyqueer]

The Untamed review: episode two!!

Yes, Wei Wuxian, Little Apple IS a picky eater, because he deserves only the best and KNOWS IT

Bro's complaining about a donkey to a donkey, what a guy

"You're like MY master"

"Yo, there's a well!" Wei Wuxian immediately moves out of the way, what a gentleman

HE'S JUST TALKING TO THEM, WOAHHHH

Wei Wuxian helplessly listening to them argue over his inventions is so funny to me

"IS WEI YOUR DAD?!??" "HE'S MY IDOL!!"

The way that Wei Wuxian just gives up and peaces out

Fighting with a donkey now

Take the fucking apple, you dumbass

How old is this woman? She looks about twenty five

IT'S JUST LIKE IN MINECRAFT

Push her off, it'd be so funny and no one would know

Yo, what is Yan doing?? She's busting some moves

Does he just flick any random person?

Ohhhh, I see

Got killed by the mist, that's an embarrassing way to go

Bro is dead, goddamn. Poor lass has no soul

This woman has been through so much, she doesn't deserve it

Someone's catching humans, cannibals in every universe

JIN LING!!! <3

Laughing at the richness of people

"Naur, stay up there. See you later xoxo"

How is this woman here????

LITTLE APPLE BEHAVE YOURSELF

It's fine, he's wearing a mask that covers his eyes

"It's you?" Aw shit, the guy who was a baby when you were around is onto you

Joking, he knows Mo Xuanyu

Mock him and see how it ends up

BRO JUST INSULTED HIM BECAUSE HE'S MOTHERLESS

Stop trying to get up, jesusss

Nice throw

He looks so done with people's shit

STOP FUCKING MOCKING HIM, WEI WUXIAN

Oh, hey Jiang Cheng, you're baby girling quite hard today

No need to crush it

"break his legs? No, feed him to your dog, kiddo"

His boyfriend has come to rescue him

"I'm so unlucky today", on the contrary, I think you're very lucky, these characters are key to the plot and you didn't even have to go looking for them!!

I like the music that plays when the Lan Clan is around

Lan Jingyi stepping up for his father- teacher

Lan Sizhui, how do you know so much

HE CAST THE SILENCE SPELL, I LOVE HIM

He says it like a slur hahahaha

Lan Wangji is too busy mewing, don't break his streak!!

"If you don't get that spirit, don't come back to me!!" Jin Ling was never seen again 😔

He's like a grumpy toddler, I love him so

"Don't worry, we'll pay for the nets we broke!" "Nuh uh!!" Lan Sizhui, you're an angel, don't listen to him

HIS MEWING STREAK NOOOOO

Nice voice though

"I thought I saw my boyfriend 😔"

There are spirits in the lake, I wouldn't suggest drinking from it

Jiang Yanli 😭😭😭

Stop smiling, you're hallucinating

Slander my boy and sees what happens

Slap yourself, go on, like the books

Don't put the blame all on him!!!

Nice, like the books

Feel the shame

That cannot be comfortable, those are literal rocks

LITTLE APPLE!!

He's like they're little leader

That's a fast old man

Lan Jingyi's first instinct is to point a sword at an old man, lmaaoooo

"anything strange here?" "Duh"

Leaving him alone while he's trying to give important plot information, rude

Glowing grass, what the fuck

I think you should eat some

He just wants to clean, leave him alone

WEN QING!!!!!!

Flashbacks lmao

Where'd the old man go

Dirty

No way is that naturally formed

Lan Jingyi, you're surprisingly knowledgeable..I didn't know you could read

Jin Ling and his group of people

AAAAAHH WHAT THE FUCK

"what's up baby girls"

Ugh, it's been moving for a while now

Maybe you should, I don't know, LISTEN TO THE GUY WHO KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING??

Also, y'all ditched him, minus points

"We're out" "fuck, y'all are gonna soooo be punished"

The look he gave, as if this isn't like, a sixteen seventeen year old. No, wait, he's probably eighteen...how old was he before Wei Wuxian's death? ANYWAY

Criticising the Lan education system while you're at it

"wait, you can't be crazy, because that makes sense!!" Lan Jingyi my beloved

Shit, my cover as a crazy person has been blown

Are they having a mewing contest or what?

Well done, Lan Jingyi

WHERE'S MY NEPHEW

I swear it wasn't that big before

Y'all are doing a shit job at running from something this slow

Nice attack, it's still stone though

Dude, listen to Lan Sizhui

"Hey, my sword 🥺😔"

Considering this flute playing is supposed to be shit, it's not too bad

"ugh, you're playing the flute this bad? You must be crazy" Lan Jingyi, make up your mind

STOOOOOP JIN LING

Nice kick, it's still stone though

WEN NING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HE'S HERE TO KICK SOME ASS FOR YOU!!!!

They both look mildly terrified

Dude killed it so easy, well done. Naur, it's just an illusion.

"y'all, no need to be scared, the Yiling Patriarch ain't here" he's standing over there, wearing a mask

I THOUGHT THE LANS WERE BETTER THAN THIS

Luring him over with shitty flute playing

LET GO OF THE COMEDIC RELIEF

His robes are even blowing, just for you

Me leading my next snack away from the bag

Walk faster, goddamn

"hey bbg, it's been a while"

Listen guys, I know you're in love but there's a corpse there

He flew away, like Jesus

So...how is everyone surprised when they do turn out to be gay???

DON'T PIN THE BLAME ON HIM. MY MAN'S IS GUILTY BUT PRETTY

Uhh uh oh. Mom and dad are fighting again

Lan Wangji already looks so bored

The fucking GLARE I CAN'T

"Take off the mask!!!" "Nuh uh, I'm too handsome"

Lan Jingyi needs to stop being smart, it's scaring me

Stoooop, he didn't kill his brother

Okay, so he did, but he didn't want to!!!

He passed out, okay man

Answer the stupid call

FAMILY!!!!!!!

They're so happy 😔

Give him what he wants, it's SYMBOLISM

Lecturing him better than Lan Qiren

You lost him already, not very good at this, ey?

Alcoholic

Of course he will, it's Wei Wuxian

They're so happy :(

[hopefuloverfury]

maybe a weird ask, but what do you think the bachelors/ettes superpowers would be?

Imagining the marriage candidates with some kind of ability was both super fun and also a pain in the ass. I didn’t want to go the obvious route with anyone, and I also didn’t want to make any of them into an actual superhero, so, under the assumption that they exist in a world where everyone is super-powered in some way or another, I came up with these. I also made sure that they all had some kind of drawback or a “catch” of some kind, so they wouldn’t be completely broken powers.

I don't think there are any necessary warnings this time. Enjoy!

Sam

Everyone’s favorite golden retriever boy gets Instrument Manipulation. It’s the kind of power that does exactly what it says on the tin. Sam can manipulate instruments, but unlike Musical Mastery, for example, Sam is only able to use this ability to play on instruments he’s already familiar with. We know he can play the guitar and the drums, but he wouldn’t be able to use this ability to play the violin, or something. He could probably use it to bash someone up the head with one, though.

Sebastian

Before anyone gets excited—we’ve only got room for one sorcerer in Pelican Town, and that’s Rasmodius. With that in mind, Sebastian’s superpower is Cyber Presence. The ability to exist within cyberspace, and effectively exist everywhere, all at once—as long as there’s some level of technology in that area. Whether it be a global computer network, radar or security systems, or even satellites, Sebastian would be given the freedom to enter and exist in the cyber world at his own will. However, if any of the devices have a virus of some kind, it will affect his physical form and could potentially harm or otherwise “alter” him.

Alex

You’d think he’d get something like super strength or super speed, but I think Alex would get the most use out of Enhanced Stamina. He’d be able to practice gridball for hours to days without tiring, and he’d have no issues with helping around the farm for as long as he needed to. If you chose to have children in the future, I imagine he could keep up with the kiddos without breaking a sweat either. This wouldn’t be an absolute thing—he would get tired eventually, but he’d last a while. A few days of uninterrupted activity, at most, but he'd never go that long. Granny Evelyn still worries, you know!

Elliott

Literary Travel allows the user to effectively “dimension hop” between different works of fiction. Elliott can act as himself in these fictional worlds, but cannot affect the plotline or the outcome of whatever story is being told. He would also only be able to hop into these fictional works while touching the physical medium(books, movie CDs, etc.). Elliott would use this ability in a myriad of ways, but as a man who’s constantly wrapped up in the dramatics and whimsy of life, I think he’d use it most often as a form of escapism. He’d have a limit for how much time he could spend in alternate realities, and his escapades would always be dreamlike. It would allow him the freedom to explore those places, but it wouldn’t deteriorate his perception of his reality, which I think is important.

Shane

I want him to be able to speak to his chickens, so Shane gets Zoolingualism. He wouldn’t be able to speak the language of an animal that’s gone extinct, but he can speak to every other animal with ease as long as meets a member of that species once. Unlike Marnie, who can perfectly replicate and mimic animal sounds and literally speak their language, Shane communicates in a more intangible way. Rather, he speaks to the animal, and the intentions, emotions, and thoughts are injected into the animal’s brain. The opposite is also true for him. He comes off as a bit anti-social to the people who meet him, mostly because he spends all of his time in the barn communicating with the animals instead of the humans outside. Chickens are safer.

Harvey

I thought about giving him Flight because I’m an asshole, but eventually I decided against it. Instead, Dial allows Harvey to speed up or slow down an individual’s healing by manipulating a patient’s cells. Harvey can accelerate the healing process by quite a fair margin, and after so many years of mastery, he’s completely abandoned stitches because he can seal any wound closed on his own. Further, if he were setting someone’s fractured limb, their time with a cast would be severely shortened by using his ability. However, he can not immediately cure any or all ailments, and using his ability for long periods of time will give him body aches. He may go too far or push himself a little too hard, and his body has shown the effects of that in recent years. He’s not able to bounce back as quickly as he used to.

Maru

You may have thought that I’d go with something obvious like Absolute Intelligence or whatever, but we all know intelligence isn’t Maru’s lack, so let’s ignore her brains for a moment and shift gears. Interstellar Projection would fit her best. Being able to project herself through the infinite cosmos and visit the trillions of solar systems she’s only ever been able to see fuzzy glimpses of through her telescope would be a dream come true for her. However, because she is a human and could not survive in the vacuum of space without substantial protection, she would only be able to project her consciousness into space—not her physical form.

Penny

Telekinesis is Penny’s superpower. I think due to her responsibilities and her personal interests, being able to interact with objects without ever laying a finger on them would make a ton of things easier for her. Washing dishes, cleaning her home, cleaning up the library table after teaching the children, and reading would all be far simpler for her. Her emotions would affect it, however, so if she and Pam ever got into a heated argument in the trailer, their belongings might start levitating. She can manipulate inanimate objects, but cannot manipulate living things. She couldn’t make Vincent float, for example.

Abigail

I considered Invulnerability and Weapons Mastery for Abigail, but I think both of those would kill her enjoyment of swordsmanship and adventuring. So instead, I think she would get the most use out of Tactical Analysis. With the ability to see the perfect course of action when going head to head with a floor full of powerful monsters, I imagine she’d be one hell of an adventurer, but she’d still have to train her ass off to succeed with the kinds of plans her brain comes up with.

Haley

Charisma isn’t something Haley struggles with, but I think it’s an ability that fits her best. Being wealthy, popular, and having an ability to charm people would have contributed heavily to her developing a conceited and selfish personality, but after she expands her worldview and loses her superficial tendencies, I think she’d use her ability for good. If you’ve seen her heart event after getting married, you know exactly what I’m talking about. However, this ability’s effectiveness wears off the better you know her, and doesn’t have any effect on people she’s related to by blood, so it doesn’t work on Emily, and it stopped working on Alex a long time ago.

Leah

Leah’s ability is Foresight. Being a mix of Wisdom, Future Vision, Fate Sight, and Analytical Precognition, Leah has the ability to see a short distance into the future. Her ability takes the form of visions, lasting anywhere from a few seconds to a minute long. They are usually random, but if she focuses on herself very carefully, she can induce a vision. The ones that she doesn’t call forward are far more pressing and require more of her attention. Namely, a few visions in the months leading up to the end of her abusive relationship with Kel(y’all know how I feel about them), and even some regarding the Farmer’s appearance in the valley. She always has a pretty nasty migraine after a vision though, and needs to hold warm or cold compresses against her eyes to soothe the aching.

Emily

Emily was a toss up between a few powers, but eventually I settled on Omnilingualism. This ability allows the individual to speak all human languages fluently. Emily has a few cutscenes and lines in-game that make it clear that she isn’t lacking in the supernatural department, but her most notable characteristic is her immense kindness and empathy. Her desire to help others is admirable, and so I gave her this ability in the hopes that it would make it easier for her to offer aid to a plethora of different people. However, she’d only be able to speak a language after formally meeting a person who spoke it, so she couldn’t learn any dead languages.

[duckymcdoorknob]

𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓪𝔂 5: 𝓘’𝓶 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱

THIS IS LITERALLY THE ONLY GIF I COULD FIND REMOTELY CLOSE

SOS BITCH THEY DONT LIKE US

anyways- holy fuck this is 4 days late. I’m gonna try to keep pumping em out.

This one is pure comfort for lil bby bc sometimes I just get a think and cannot veer off course of that think.

Pushing my found family headcanon on y’all once again. Yawn.

—CW: There are not much tickles under the cut ngl, established Leopika, Angst :(—

Tags: @giggly-squiggily @chrimsss

At the end of the day, Killua knew that he was loved by Leorio the same as Gon was. But sometimes… No- that’s stupid, he’s not- He’s not jealous or anything.

…Is he?

No, that’s silly. He’s never been one to care about affection, given his background and all.

And yet… why did he feel so pouty after seeing the two interacts?

Of course, he never let it show. He wouldn’t anyone to catch on or anyth-

“You alright, kiddo?” Kurapika inquired, squatting down to the younger’s level.

“I- what?” The boy blinked. “O-oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

The blonde grinned patiently. “Killua…”

“I said I’m good!” Killua crossed his arms with a slight pout, turning away from his friend.

Kurapika sighed as he stood upright once again. “Alright, don’t tell me then. If you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

The white-haired boy slowly turned back around toward the older male. “W-Wait.”

A smile crept into Kurapika’s features. “Hmm?”

“Promise you won’t… you know, tell?”

“I promise I won’t… you know, tell.”

And so the young boy began to spill his woes and worries with great hesitation, fearing that Kurapika would spill the beans to Leorio.

The Kurta would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t worried. It took all of his power to not reach out and squeeze the boy in the tightest hug he’s ever given. The blonde listened to every word with great focus, heart breaking at every line. Had he really felt so neglected by Leorio?

When Killua had finished pouring his heart out, his face flushed as he looked away. A squeak left him as Kurapika gently pulled him into a hug.

“Would it be okay if I spoke with Leorio?” The Kurta whispered in inquiry.

“N-No it’s not important…”

“Killua, please. Just let me-“

“I said no!” The white-haired boy roared as he turn and ran to his room, slamming his door shut. Kurapika closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Two hands gently graced the blonde’s shoulders, thumbs rubbing gently. The chain user sighed.

“I’ll talk to him,” Leorio’s voice whispered, giving a small squeeze. He was met by his lover’s head falling backwards into his chest.

The blonde sighed once again, muttering. “Just be kind to him… it took a miracle to get him to open up.”

“Alright. Go check on Gon; I’ll take care of this.”

The two carefully stepped through the dark hallway , eventually turning in separate directions at the split. Leorio gently tapped on Killua’s door, a muffled “go away” came in response.

“Killua…” the brunette rested his forehead against the wooden door. “I just want to talk with you.”

“Don’t you want to talk to your f-favorite son, G-Gon?”

The medic’s heart broke in two, breath hitching. “Kil-“

A choked gasp left the boy. “I TOLD YOU ALREADY TO NOT CALL ME THAT!”

“God- right, right. I’m sorry. I just-“ Leorio’s mouth stuttered in movement, failing to find the right words. “I w-want to f-fix this. Please, let me in.”

After a good amount of silent seconds, the door opened very slightly to reveal a puffy-eyed Killua with his chest heaving. Leorio dropped to his knees and instantly pulled the boy into his embrace.

Kicking the door shut with his heel, Leorio cradled the little guy’s head against his shoulder, shushing the boy’s blossoming hysterics.

“I’m so sorry that I made you feel this way… I never wanted you to feel anything else but fully loved. When Kurapika and I took you two in, we didn’t-“ a hitch of the older male’s breath indicated a valiant effort to fight tears himself. “I didn’t- I still don’t- I don’t have all of the answers, and I want more than anything to have them.”

He was met with silent, albeit the sound of the ex- assassin’s heaving sobs.

“You know I love you so much, Killua. Taking you in was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and I stand by that statement. I’m so sorry that I made you feel neglected… or-or feel like I don’t like you enough, or that I don’t love you anymore.“

“BUT YOU DID! You d-did! And y-you know how l-l-long it took me t-to trust everyone. I-I wasn’t loved by m-my family a-as a kid, Leorio. Do y-you know how it f-feels to think I lost the o-only person who really loves you?”

“I don’t, I really don’t kiddo. I can’t tell you I relate, or that I understand, because I don’t. But I’m here in this moment, and you are my family now. And I will love you until my dying breath…” the older man wiped his eyes, “Even if you do waste all of the soap in the bathroom.”

The white-haired boy let out a watery chuckle. “You don’t understand the art of potion making.”

Leorio smiled widely, “There’s my happy guy.”

“Happy is a stretch… you got one smile outta me.”

“Oh yeah?” The medic pulled Killua out of the hug and held him by his shoulders, “You want me to get more smiles outta ya’?”

“You could try, not much you can do.” He grinned.

One hand moved from Killua’s shoulder and wiggled its fingers in front of the boy. His eyes widened. “I’m not ticklish.”

“I beg to differ.” The brunette teased.

With a battle cry, Leorio pulled Killua into his lap and attacked his tummy and sides, prodding and squeezing at the boy’s torso.

Killua squeezed his eyes shut to keep his giggles at bay.

“Ohhh, now none of that! If there’s anything we do in this house, it’s laugh!”

A quick pinch to the rib led the boy to yelp and break out into laughter. The medic smiled evilly at him.

“Ohhhh! I thought someone wasn’t ticklish!”

“Ihihihim nahahahat! Thihihihis ihihihis juhuhust- hyeahahaha!”

Leorio looked at Killua with fondness, continuing to help the little guy get his giggles out. From now on, he should tickle the boys every day, he thinks. After all…

Killua is his son now, and he’s never letting go.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[writelary]

Precipice [Fragment]

Precipice [Fragment] Guild Wars 2 Characters: Pixie, Magdalene The final moments of Zhaitan, Pixie's mind is taken by the last letter they got from Magdalene Strange. Fragmentary writing exercise to practice writing Guild Wars 2.

               They stand on the precipice of The End.

               Dull sepia colours rot the landscape in some laughable moment of out of time, out of place—pulled and dredged from the bottom, rot of the ocean to float like some long forgotten children’s toy found at the bottom of the pond. The edges of everything are frayed, caked with the splendor of the depths. Oil slick purples and greens pool in the cracks and crags of the landscape.

               They stand on the precipice of The End.

               Tattered wings cannot full blot out the sun, but the noxious condensation playing at being clouds attempts to do so, and what little light goes through is a sickening green. Mouths upon mouths scream and writhe against the fight above.

               They fight below. Blotting blood spilled coats the ground beside them, old rancid stuff filled to the brim in bodies that should not rise again but rise—rise—rise. They come back with teeth and nails, pushing, and screaming for the victory of the beast above.

               “My dear,

               Full glad am I to hear that you are well despite the state of—well, everything. Orr sounds fascinating, I am quite certain; however, it sounds a mixture of moist and rather unpleasant things. Still, I do hope you will send me more letters, or return before your next one is to arrive. That is certainly the hope given what you say is to transpire with the Pact’s intentions.

               While neither of you wishes to join arms with one of the darling Orders, I am happy to hear you have been able to avail yourself of characters besides Ronald’s delightful personality.

               Pomona sends her regards as well, and she is over my shoulder telling me to write that, as well as: hi. Ah, my apologies—hi with an exclamation mark. I believe she is rather lonely since Billy went off on her adventure with that Kiddo friend of hers. I will defer to your expertise that Kiddo oversleeping in their dream was not a slight against Billy, but still—poor Billy was quite hurt waiting for them all that time.

               Pixie, please keep in mind I am not a believer in some delight of martyrs. People are better off alive and flourishing. Do not throw yourself at something you will not walk away from. Promise me that much, my sweet thing. Pomona has many new tasks for both you and Ronald once you return to Divinity’s Reach.

               Give Ronald my regards.

Magdalene”

Sap stains their features, sticky heavy stuff in their eyes as they brace for the waves and corpses. One eye closed, Pixie breathes in. Hand readies their rapier, bouncing it before their voice breaks the scene. “Hold on.”

        Arm up—the moment lasts a second, the moment lasts an hour. Light distorts around them, a shield thrown up that holds, catches and splashes with the incoming deluge. In the dazzling shifting of colours—they can barely see the skies above and the great dragon faltering, its wings falling askew.

        The moment falters, and the pressure and gravity of it descends, pulling their feet from under them. All that is left is blackness and the song that rings in their ears as their breath is pushed out of them.

[kerra-and-company]

OC Music prompt! All 6 for your newest kiddo (unless you've already done one for them in which case all 6 for Brook!) (@uselessidiotsquad)

Hmm. What if Both? :3 (And thus this post became Long asl;dkjfasdf) But thanks a bunch for the ask! Ever and Brook songs be upon ye!

Ever

1. backstory

The Newly Awakened (from the official LWS2 soundtrack)

This song isn't used in entirely its original context since Ever's not a Secondborn by a long shot--they awaken during LWS3--but the vibes of this track are very much early!Ever regardless, so they get this one.

2. personality

I'm just young enough to still believe, still believe But young enough not to know what to believe in Young enough not to know what to believe

If I can live through this If I can live through this If I can live through this I can do anything

(Champion by Fall Out Boy)

Ever is not that old but also not that young. It gets Fall Out Boy, which is appropriate because of both the lyrics and the vibes of this song--and, on a more personal level, it's close to the same (mental, at least, I was older than 6 lol) age I was when I found that group, so...yeah. There you go!

3. angst

I seem fine But I can't take the highs and the lows All I am is a weapon I shoot 'em down 'til I end up alone

I always say I hate the way you look at me now And I swear, I didn't mean to be a let down What I broke can't be fixed with all my sorry excuses, no

(weapon by Against The Current)

...presented without comment.

4. comfort

We are friends for life Hold that deep inside Let this be a drive To survive

And just stand, high and tall Make sure you give your all And if you ever fall Know that I'm right here

We'll always be together, don't you worry I'll always be by your side, don't you worry

(Always Be Together by Little Mix)

Ever desperately wants to believe this.

5. love life

Not applicable (yet!! that'll likely change :3)

6. fight scene

Countdown's on you best get moving I'm about to change the game Go ahead, try to outrun me It's all the same Ready or not

(Ready or Not by WAR*HALL)

Aaaand bonus Brook songs under the cut! :D

Brook

1. backstory

If you let me I could I'd show you how to build your fences Set restrictions, separate from the world The constant battle that you hate to fight Just blame the limelight Don't look up, just let them think There's no place else you'd rather be

(Fences by Paramore)

Growing up in the Ash fahrar with magic that even you don't understand is a Time, to say the least.

2. personality

So tired from the miles I'm traveling Getting lost somewhere that I haven't been When all the bad shit starts happening I ain't never throwing that towel in

There's a lion in the wardrobe And a wolf out the door I might never get to heaven But I've been there before

(Lion by Hearts & Colors)

I mentioned this on another post at some point, but Brook is very resilient in the specific kinda sense of "you cannot kill me in a way that matters". They will build some semblance of a life back from ashes and will slowly work towards being at least vaguely happy again, even if they can't ever fully get there.

3. angst

Nowhere to run Nowhere to hide You left me spinning around in my mind I got no signal You never replied And I can't get no sleep

I keep telling my, telling myself your ghost story You got me lying awake in my bed, you still haunt me And I can't break free

(Ghost Story by Cheat Codes and All Time Low)

This song isn't meant to be about exactly what I envision it to be about in Brook's case, but it's funny how a song about ghosting someone can also sound a little bit like a song about someone you think is dead. This is one I could dissect in depth for them, weirdly enough aklsjdf

4. comfort

You've seen some trouble Some dark and stormy nights Dry your eyes my son, you're not alone I know the brave, hard You carry your little light up the path in every way you go

Paint the skies Chase the highs Draw the colors of the night Follow the rhythm of your hungry heart Feel the sun catch the vibe for a limited time Be the hunger in your hungry heart Our hungry hearts

(Hungry Hearts by River)

A little bit of Brook's worship of Kormir coming in here, but also them finding a home with the Olmakhan for the years they're there.

5. love life

Nobody gets me like you do I'm not the same, not after you So many things that we've been through I'm not the same, not after All that's been said and done I don't even feel like I'm back at one Nobody gets me like you do I'm not the same, not after you

(After You by Gryffin)

For Brook and Casca - truly a combination of the lyrics, the music, and the vibes of the music video.

Bonus one:

And nothing left unspoken When you whisper, I heard you say

Go on then, love And show me your heart 'Cause you are enough As you are and I'm awestruck So go on then, love

(Go on Then, Love by Said The Sky)

6. fight scene

The Call (the League of Legends one)

Almost more for the vibes than the lyrics (so listen to it if you want a more accurate impression), but the lyrics don't not fit, either!

[impprtante]

Eira's Children (the squad :0)

Okay, new day new me, I'm actually in my right mind and not impulsively writing things down after being awake for more than 24 hours lmao. So here's what's up.

So, right now the first gen children have moved out of Eira's house into their own households. They've kinda solidified baseline personalities and interactions (and family dynamics from parenthood) so i let them loose in the world. (To live as if they're Stanley Humphry.) Eira isn't the richest mom tho, so I staggered it out so I could give them like, 5k-10k to start off. So they all started by living in tiny barely furnished shacks. I normally get money in the sims by grinding, and in the actual legacy challenge they're super rich, but I wanted to try building up their wealth through odd jobs and work. Get them different incomes and all that. I also want to build them unique housing / decorate their areas according to them so that's also on the books. (because i didn't bother with them before :p)

And to give me a more thought out clothing design. To get into the mindset of teens i had all the kiddos wearing school uniforms (from snowy escape lol) and since I haven't really been them too much, i haven't gotten around to doing all their fashion since. BUT THE POINT IS technically i haven't played as most of these. Just a little bit, I've mostly committed to Lamia (by accident;;)

Okayyyyyy, so this is how it's going:

GUYS I LITERALLY CANNOT CHANGE HIS HAIRSTYLE. I was like, this is a very distinct sims hairstyle. BUT I CYCLED THROUGH EVERYTHING AND I CAN'T, IT FRAMES HIS FACE BETTER AND SEEING HIS HAIRLINE NOW SCARES ME.

What started has his emo, dye-ing my hair now mom, has gone too fair ;; __ ;;

But yeah, Phoenix is the same physically. I've just dressed him up as a more of a starving artist since he's out here painting in a tiny shack. I'm pretty sure that's going to change soon tho, since painting does actually give good money (probably unrealistic but :p). He's gotten the gloomy, dog lover, and family oriented. In the last save he had his house "open to dogs", so thats a nod to that. family oriented is kinda more because of his older sibling status, and he has a good relationship with his whole most of his family (and he loves them all very much, even the brats). Im still figuring out where he lands on the love things, because i've had him be a player in some saves but also he's more a reserved person so i can't image him being that out there in this version. I'm figuring it out <3

He's living in a tiny home (because i say so) and has a nice backyard pool area. He's under the recycle challenge, mostly as a nod to his upbringing out in the middle of nowhere, conservation is important.

Lamia is the most overall different from them all. I didn't really have anything going on with her character at all, besides what i later realized was a comedy aspiration, not a party one (oops). Her character is really shaped by the manners her mom instilled into her now, so she's in more conservative dressings because of that. I kept her hat as a nod to her previous version.

The vision is that she goes through her era of struggling artist (playing gigs and teaching lessons) and works as a normal salary worker (manners: she's trying to live up to the "has a normal job and will do fine for herself mom i promise i can pay bills"). Her piano-ing is more of a side gig but she really loves it so she doesn't want to stop doing it. Most of her parties at this point is so that she can break up the monotony of life. She ends up catches eyes of someone famous and is catapulted into doing more high end jobs. It makes her parties have a more exclusive guest list (not super famous but still really well known) and her high pay grade allows her to quit her job. She's pretty famous now (by the general public as a socialite, by more music-centric crowd as a pianist) and lives pretty comfortably.

Basilisk is the point where i start saying i got nothing. He's got the slob and kinda jock personality, but truly im looking for something else to flesh him out with. But he's the buff one of the bunch. Traits of slob, bro, and foodie, i haven't gotten around to updating his wardrobe. He's closest with Lamia, though the eldest three make a bit of a trio since they grew up the closest in age. He was team captain of the sims football team tho since the sports in the sims is so limited im debating changing the sports (but football would be fitting because he's a tank). He has piss-poor manners, but he's really in touch with emotions, having strong empathy for people. He's also the reason most of his siblings are fitness freaks; he convinced his mom to makeshift a basketball hoop that they used a lot in childhood. The biggest offenders were Sphinx, Phoenix, and Lamia. He challenged Phoenix in football and Lamia in basketball, but Sphinx just liked sneaking into his fitness gear the scrawny bastard.

Griffin and Sphinx still out here twinning hard. Eira must've had a blonde gene from her parents because three blond children can't be a coincidence wow. Freckles were also unexpected. I don't have anything to say about clothing preferences here either. Griffin was on the chess team? and Sphinx as a lazy person was not in any afterschool things, preferring to tinker. Both of them work on the handiness side of things, but i like to think Griffin is into woodworking and Sphinx is into metalworking (his type of jewelry he makes for his family is lacking in the gem department). I have Griffin working as a civil planner ingame, and Sphinx is unemployed selling jewelry at home (its.... its going. I only played like 3 days though to start off).

Griffin is more applied in general (was valedictorian), being clumsy, overachiever, and a bro. Sphinx is lazy, perfectionist, dance machine. Sphinx was one more for sneaking out (mostly out into the forest), once and a while teaming up with Lamia to go to some party (school mate get together) after curfew. They're both little shits, still living up to the mischievousness, but Griffin hated Lamia with a burning passion, and Sphinx really got annoyed with Phoenix's dramatics (neither dared anger basilisk too hard). And, yes, they teased their little sisters as well but they didn't despise them as much as their elder siblings got on their nerves for daring trying to have superiority over them. Eira had a time with them. Got stuck doing many chores as punishment. Griffin is pretty insensitive, but he's gotten really good at *dealing* with his own emotions. He's chill like that. Sphinx meanwhile gets into way more trouble being irresponsible, but he's great at resolving his conflicts.

Nephele has changed as much as phoenix. Aka, she's just had a skin changed, mostly because i didn't want to mess with her too much considering her genes are he one's carried onto the next gen. Gen 03's heir does happen to take over her father more though, but she has her mom's blond hair, so we kept that. She looks like she has such a baby face, but you can see she has Eira's eyes (WHICH IS A TREND, THEY ALL HAVE HER EYES).

I've been trying to make her seem more polished, mostly because I had her be a secret agent in the past (i don't even know how to integrate that into anything ;; __ ;;), and i haven't changed her wardrobe yet either. She also is well mannered so that's a part of it. Personality wise, she's neat, foodie, and socially awkward. She's used to picking up after her family as mostly trying to help out her mom with the hecticness of an 8 person household, and when she was old enough she did the cooking as well. But, her mom being an excellent cook, made her standards for food really high (it's why basilisk is a foodie too). Retreating into working like this was also kinda coping for being terrible conversationalist. (With the neat trait she autonomously cleans things too which is really funny. It's like she can't help but clean even things that other people think are already clean.) She tag-teamed with Griffin on fixing anything throughout the house though. She has a strong personality however, being the type of person who has people she likes, people she doesn't, and they don't change. She doesn't like to apologize (it's like pulling teeth) and likes to be seen as correct.

Arachne I've played a little more of too. Mostly because she was left alone in the household with Eira once all her siblings moved out. But she became an accomplished writer at a young age (so, a really well receiving book that will forever be remembered and a lot of other pretty big hits). I had her go through a redemption, mellowing in her original version, but I really liked the punk thing she had going on before that i decided to keep the kind of rebellious aesthetic.

She was supposed to be a spoiled brat but in a big household its too much to be doing that kind of thing me thinks. She gets more irrationally angry, but she's a perfectionist in her craft, and grows up to be a wee self absorbed. She grows up to fame because of her books (it was pretty out of nowhere fame) so i gave her slightly more daring clothes than her siblings. She's super argumentative though, she feels all her emotions super strongly. She has the healthy outlet of writing however so she is able to regulate, even if it takes a bit.

oke im falling asleep again so i will randomly blog whenever i feel like it again peace

[justmeinatree]

whump that leans into the torture can be really good if it's written well and you're in the headspace to handle it lol. i occasionally venture into reading those types of stories for certain fandoms because it definitely can be fun to see characters, especially ones that are always seen as strong in canon, get completely broken down. and then them being comforted by their loved one after it's all over 🥺 now i'm just making myself want to write some brutal whump just so i can write cute, fluffy, comfort scenes 😂

i had to take a break from writing for tonight because i'm having a little bit of writer's block. the beginning and the end of the chapter came to me no problem...but i cannot write a middle section to connect them for the life of me 😂 i think this is my sign to go do some actual work and not sit here writing a fic all night

i do some crafting type things in my free time and stopping constantly to set up and record shots sounds awful 😬 but it's worth it because social media marketing definitely is the way to go lol. hopefully you catch up on work soon!! but i also selfishly hope you get some more writing done because i want more to read 😂

-🤘

i love a good comfort fic !! might message you for a few recs, you’ve honestly really piqued my interest 😅 i wanna read some good ones out of pure curiosity ! and who knows, i may stumble upon a new fav 🤷‍♀️

definitely take a break ! i find when i force myself to write it never turns out the way i want and i end up deleting the whole thing 😅 so much better to write what you already know you want and wait it out until the next burst of inspiration ! sometimes i write whole fics by just writing random paragraphs in different chapters until the whole thing starts making sense 😂 hopefully your school work went well and you didn’t have writers block for that !

ahahaha well as long as kiddo is healthy enough for daycare tomorrow, i will definitely be holing myself up in my garage, working like crazy to catch up 😬 but i have been writing so so much, more things are coming soooooonn 🫶

[taxideermy]

Galvanize (Buster’s Verse)

When I was Knee High to a Fuckin’ Brassed-Junkie My Literacy Teacher Voiced Some Concerns he had about Me He Said “Sure, the little tike’s smart, but from what I can See- Give ‘em about Ten years; They’ll be burnt-out, running naked through the Trees Hands in the air Screaming their fool-head-off all like ‘MATH HOMEWORK BEEECH!’”

Mooning about Sixteen Cops, Outrunin’ their Souped-Up Chargers Flashing a bunch of the Elderly as I cut across their Back-Yards I Get tackled and I shriek and I slip the Cuffs And then I get a fistful of Five-Oh in Fisticuffs Take that Tumblr; How’s that for Female-Presenting Nipples? And Take that Shit Mr. D- this Knuckle Sandwich and All them Fucked Up Participles!

Every day I look at myself in the mirror and I slam my Fist into It Every time I get into the shower I call myself a God-damned Exorcist “Dad, dad, please- Can’t you just chill, You Bastard Narcissist? Father, Pops, Daddy- Please why should I have to beg you to Cease and Desist? Can’t you just live your own fucking life instead of hijacking my Desiccated Corpse Too? You Deranged Ventriloquist; ya ain’t even Dead Yet so You need to Fucking Shoo!”

I’m losing my mind trying to outrun what I am if I can I guess I am what I am and what I am is my Old Man

I haven’t even seen him in years so I sit on the shitter and I make it a whole Bit “You absolute meth-addled drunkard pile of shit I shouldn’t have ever had to claw you out of my skin You shouldn’t have ever made me one of your sins Yet every day that part of you grows back twice as Thick Choking me out with Glass and Hash and making me the Lunatic Because of You My Whole Life’s Folie-A-Deux As in Boo-Fuckin’-Hoo, Goddamn, Deja-Vu That Bastard’s Fucking Voodoo!”

I’m drowning in your Mason Jars and Mountain-Dew Smoke Boats Passing Electricity Through my DNA and Molecularly Bonding our Sown Oats I can feel you Galvanize the frayed edges of the last of my Nerves Taking me to Ride the Lightning In your Lap until it Transfers Electricity running through me and re-wiring my Reserves Turning my brain straight into Burnt-Maple Raspberry Preserves

Whatever part of me that ever did Burn Clean You smoked off the top of a Spoon by the time I was a Teen I have to say; There’s no one out there quite like You, Dad Except the Me that you dressed in your own Plaid, Dad You can’t even Stand to look at me, huh, Dad You Fucking Has-Been Knockoff of Breaking Bad

You pat my Head with your Calloused Hands and then Dig into my Brain You Gave me Plain Bammage, Damn Deranged-Rammage and then You Flushed me down the Drain Goddamnit Told me shit like “You’re so smart kiddo, life will be so easy for you” And then turned around in the same breath and Unscrew a Couple more Screws Like Goddamn dad I know you’ve Lost your whole Sack of Marbles too But there’s only so much one kid can Fucking Do What was I supposed to do, Dad, except Become You? Looked straight up to You, More than I could ever Get Into That’s right, Now I am You; The Least you Can Do Is Fucking Look at me when I Talk To You!

I’m just fucking like him, you know, my Dear Old Dad I’m sure you’re all so tired of hearing about why I’m Stark Raving Mad I cannot even say Two Words without slipping in his Fucking Puke Can’t Stumble Without looking over my shoulder and catching sight of his Spook I knew I’d never amount to anything and I think he meant for that Switcheroo We’re both Cursed to bite off a lot more than either of us could ever hope to Chew He sold both of our souls to snatch the Devil’s Stash and we’re both Way Overdue

I won’t presume to Misconstrue the worst part of the Shitshow-

He was ‘smart’ too, you know? Before he Fried his Omelet like the Your Brain on Drugs Cameo What even is ‘smart’ though? With so many Disadvantaged Youth like the Ballad of Buster’s Spawn-Van Gogh How can we even pretend to quantify the intellectual capacity of any kid sitting on the Trap-House spin-dry Between two half-cracked out passers-by getting sky-high and practically forcing the kid to pull a Shanghai?

…You know, I think I just ran out of my Give-A-Fuck Budget I’m sick of how Society refuses to Discuss It Then they wonder why I just throw my pen down and say Fuck It. Dear Dad; I’ve got a few words for ya so before you take a Hit Load a piece of this in your Crack-Pipe and Suck It.

[pinknatural]

The Emma resurrection at 8 years old is truly consuming my brain you opened a new can of worms and dumped them into my head I cannot stop thinking about it.

Like does she remember purgatory? Does she appear half-feral eyes flashing and a growl in her throat ready to lash out? Does Jack hurtle over in the unsteady sprint of toddlers and throw himself at her and call her sister and she’s so shocked that it isn’t an attack that she doesn’t react.

Does Dean’s breath catch as he recognizes her, from her eyes or her brand or her scared expression. Does he whisper her name. Does Sam flee the room partly to not scare her but mostly out of overwhelming guilt?

How do they talk her down do they have to put food down and move away while she eats it distrustfully and Jack just babbles away about Dean’s cooking and his favorite foods and how he wants to show her his room

Does she try to stay awake for days bc she doesn’t trust them and then pass out from exhaustion and wake up with her face washed in a soft bed and realize maybe it’s okay

Does Cas reach out to her because he has the least history and an understanding of being not a human and of forgiveness

Jack was angry, is the thing. Angry in the way little kids are angry, but he has powers and it's never a good idea to set him off. And what is the solution? He's upset that he doesn't have a playmate his age, upset that he can't tell the kids at daycare about who he is, can't show them his powers. When reminded about Claire, he stomped his foot and screamed, lightbulbs shattering, and oh, Dean remembered when Sammy would get like this, when the only person who could calm him down was Dean himself, eight years old and Sam's favorite person.

Dean and Cas exchange helpless glances, and Jack's not an only child but with the age gap between him and Claire he basically is, and Dean aches, suddenly. Maybe he and Cas need to have a talk about another kid.

"I'll just MAKE a sibling!" Jack cries, and Dean glances at Cas worriedly before he reaches for Jack.

"Come on, kiddo," he says, because you can't just make a sibling, he doesn't think, but Jack stomps his foot again and gold light bursts out from the kid and Dean has to cover his eyes.

When he can open them again, there's a girl in the room. She has blonde hair and round green eyes, dressed in an oversized jacket and bright pink shirt, jeans that are falling down her legs. Her clothes are covered in blood and dirt and her hair is tangled with leaves and mud and who knows what else, and she looks around with wide eyes, mouth slightly open in shock.

"Oops," Jack says, staring at her.

"Jack," Cas says, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Did you kidnap a child?"

But the thing is that...well....Dean recognizes the white jacket and the bright pink shirt, dark stain of blood right in the middle of her chest, if the shirt actually fit her. Dean recognizes the curve of her face and the twist of her eyebrows, and the shade of her eyes, which are rapidly welling up with tears.

She's staring right at Dean and sobbing, heart-wrenching noises pulled from the deepest parts of her, and Dean holds out his hands, showing that they're empty.

"I won't hurt you," he says. "None of us will hurt you."

Jack creeps across the room and clings to Cas' leg, looks up at Dean with wide eyes.

"I didn't mean to," he says. "It was an accident."

"It's okay, buddy," Dean says. He steps closer to the girl, who takes a stumbling step back, nearly tripping on her pants.

"Dean," Cas says. "Do you know her?"

She's choking on her sobs, not looking away from Dean, and his heart twists as he backs up, reaches a hand for Cas. Cas takes it, squeezes.

"Emma?" Dean whispers. Cas's breath catches. "Are you...Emma?"

She nods, wipes snot away with her oversized, dirty sleeve.

"Okay, sweetheart," Dean says, exhaling shakily. "This is Cas, okay? And Jack. We aren't gonna hurt you. Can Cas touch you?"

She shakes her head rapidly.

"He can heal you," Dean cajoles, and she shakes her head again. Her sobs have slowed, but tears are still streaming down her face. "Okay. Do you want to follow me or Cas to the bathroom, get you cleaned up? We won't hurt you." He hopes if he repeats it enough, she'll believe it. She looks at him, then at Cas, then at Jack. Jack lets go of Cas and walks toward her. Emma stares but lets him approach. He holds out a little hand and touches her cheek. Gold light glows, and she doesn't break eye contact as he heals her.

"It's okay," Jack says. She nods and starts crying again.

"Daddy," she whispers, and Dean runs to her side, drops to his knees, wants to touch her but doesn't. "I don't wanna be in the monster forest anymore."

"You aren't," Dean says. "You're safe, here, with us. Cas is my husband and Jack is my son--your brother--and you can have the guest room, and you'll never have to see another monster again."

Emma pushes back the sleeve on her wrist, but the brand isn't there anymore. Jack must've healed it.

"What about..." Emma whispers. She swallows. "What about your brother?"

Cas walks up behind Dean, puts a hand on his shoulder. Dean's gonna have to call Eileen, ask her to bring some clothes for a kid. It's not like Emma can go to a store--not yet, anyway. She already looks overwhelmed, and there's only three people here.

"You don't have to see him," Cas says. "Not until you're ready." Dean swallows, looks at his daughter. She's covered with the blood of Purgatory. She must be eight, he thinks. Too young for what she’s seen.

"He won't hurt you again," Dean promises. "And you can see him when you're ready. I'll keep you safe. I couldn't do it the first time, but I swear, Emma, not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you, that I haven't wished I could do it over."

Emma fiddles with her necklace. Dean remembers seeing Lydia put it on her from across the parking lot as he staked out the house. Dean strips off his flannel, and hands it to her. She wipes her face off with it, and then looks at him.

"Okay," she says. "You can touch me."

Dean wraps his arms around her, scoops her up, holds her close, and promises he's never letting her go again.

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (PT.4) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART FOUR

Summary

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

----

"Miss Y/N, is daddy okay?" Hoisuke peers up at you from the backseat as you pull up to your apartment unit. You glance at him through the rearview mirror and smile, "don't worry, he's fine. He's just going to be slightly late."

Iwaizumi had called you earlier that day, sounding breathless and stressed out as he iterated how slow traffic was moving. On impulse, you'd proposed to bring Hoisuke over to your house to make things more comfortable and after a slight bout of hesitation, he'd agreed to pick his son up in the comfort of your home.

"This is the first time I come to your place, miss Y/N," Hoisuke's eyes are darting back and forth across the tiny kitchenette to your right to the small tv screen plugged to the wall on the left. Granted, your flat is merely anything special and far from ready for unexpected guests. But the sharp curiosity gleaming in your student's eyes holds no judgement and for that you apprrciate him all the more.

"You hungry?" You ask while settling him down at your tiny dinner table compact enough to fit snuggly up to your kitchen counter.

Hoisuke purses his lips in thought and you swear he's learnt this facial expression from observing his father, "hm yeah. A little bit," before throwing you a sheepish grin.

So you whip up something simple; omelette rice with your special Korean chilli sauce as a sudden downpour splatters through the cityscape, the rain dancing to its own rhythm as it splatters over your windowpane. The TV plays in the background, a random cartoon that gets interrupted with Hoisuke's giggles and that ignites an affectionate smile on your lips as you chide himto eat. And you're not really sure why your chest feels tight and filled to the brim with comfort, but you realise you don't actually mind having the small human around that much.

Teachers aren't supposed to have favourites. But you admit to yourself that teachers are only human. And if you are to choose, Hoisuke would be one of yours.

"Miss Y/N, do you have a boyfriend?" Hoisuke's voice pierces through your thoughts and as you blink down at him, you shake your head, "no, I'm single as a pringle."

"You are not married then."

"No I'm not."

"Great!" Hoisuke jumps up on his seat, eyes twinkling with mischief, "then do you want to marry daddy?"

"What?" You laugh out, "it doesn't work that way Hoisuke."

"But I like you miss Y/N," he replies with the seriousness of a child wanting his way, "You'd be a great mum. Can you be my mum?"

"Oh gosh kiddo," your hand reachea out to ruffle his hair, heart twisting at how easily he leans into your touch, "I'd love to be your mum, but--"

"Then marry my dad," Hoisuke's mumble is muffled against your side. He unconsciously snuggles up to you and you caress the top of his head down to his nape, "daddy likes you too. He really likes you. You make him happy. He laughs a lot when you're around, and he doesn't get sad like he usually does when Mama is here."

"But that would be unfair to your mum wouldn't it?" You say softly, "you can't have two mums. She'll be upset."

There's a slight pause where you can see the cogs turning in his brain, "yeah," he says eventually, "but I don't really like going to Mama's anyway--"

The sound of your doorbell jolts you both to attention. You give Hoisuke's head one more ruffle before getting up to unlock the door.

Only to come face to face with none other than Hoisuke's mother.

You blink. Once. Twice. Unconsciously taking a step back.

She's pretty. Prettier up close, with those feline cat eyes and that full mouth that renders any man crazy. Standing a few inches higher than you, there is no doubt as to why Iwaizumi had fallen for her charms in the first place. She looks like the kind of woman that would still be elegant even dressed in a mechanician's uniform.

"H-Hello," your eyes dart from hers to a blank spot on the wall opposite, "can I help?"

"Where's Hoisuke?" Her voice is smooth, yet hard enough to make you wince.

"I--" your mind races. Isn't Iwaizumi supposed to pick him up? And how the hell does she know where you live?

She seems to read your face as she says, "I saw you with my son leaving the school. You're his...teacher, aren't you? I was waiting to pick him up."

"I thought Iwaizumi-san--"

"I don't need a reason to see my son," she arches her brows at you in a way that makes you want to crawl under a carpet and hide.

"Mama?" Hoisuke's voice floats from behind you, a tentative waver of nervousness as you hear him pad up to the door.

"Does Iwaizumi-san know you're picking him up?" You hope your tone is diplomatic, but the way her body tenses proves you otherwise, "You can tell him Hoisuke's with his mother," she nods at her child, "now come on Hoisuke. Let's go home."

Maybe feeling the tension in the air, Hoisuke merely shrinks back, "but it's Daddy that picks me up."

"Yes well, Daddy's not here now is he?" She gestures aggressively towards him, "now come on."

"Maybe we should wait until Iwaizumi-san gets here," you try to smooth things over, "he's on his way--"

"Don't tell me what to do with my child," Mizune snaps and without warning, grabbing hold of Hoisuke's arm before pulling him out of the flat. He resists.

"Mama no, let's wait for Daddy--"

"Daddy isn't coming. Now stop being so difficult," she doesn't relent against the way her son twists and kicks at the ground while you stand there, mind blind with panic because you've never actually had to deal with such a situation before.

"Mama please!" Hoisuke cries out with a sob.

You want to move. You urge yourself to. But your feet won't budge. It's like you're rooted in place.

Hoisuke has started crying at this point and in an attempt to smoothen things out, you try again by saying, "I'm sure we can all calm down and talk this out. As a teacher, I cannot--"

"That's right," Mizune's feline pupils narrow down on you, making you flinch at the rage simmering through those dark orbs, "you're his teacher. And as a teacher, you should know how to keep your boundaries. You're not his mother and you never will be. So fucking stay out of my family's life."

The words burn as they etch themselves into memory and you can only watch, hand clutched to the door as Mizune drags her crying son away. His cries are loud enough that they bounce throughout the corridor and keeps resonating even when he's long gone, as you try to comb through the last fifteen minutes where everything has turned upside down.

Fucking stay out of my family's life.

Your brain reels. Your heart feels heavy. You don't know what to do, what to say.

And Mizune's words are as sharp as a knife.

Don't tell me what to do with my child.

A sob slowly catches the back of your throat, eyes slowly brimming with an onset of tears.

You're not his mother.

The truth hurts. You know that Hoisuke is not your child, know that all this time it's merely Iwaizumi and his son, and then you watching on the sidelines. But hearing the cold rejection thrust in your face hurts more than you'll admit.

You aren't quite sure how long you stand there gazing into the empty corridor as if if you will it hard enough, Hoisuke will come running back to you. It is only when a familiar alto reaches your ears that you snap back to attention:

"Y/N?"

Jerking at the sound and looking up to see none other than Iwaizumi, drenched and breathless, standing a few feet away from you, your breath hitches in warning.

He closes the distance between you, frowning upon noticing the tears at the corner or your eyes, "what's wrong? Where is Hoisuke--"

"I'm..." your eyes drop to the ground, "I'm sorry," your whimper is barely above a whisper and you feel him move closee, his hand gently grasping your arm.

"Y/N?" His voice is gentle, though ragged and breathy, "what happened?"

It's probably the gentlest he's ever been with you. Turning away to cup your mouth with your hand, your teeth clamp down onto your lower lip in hopes of keeping the emotion from spilling over.

"Mizune came," you murmur out, "she took Hoisuke home."

There's a sharp intake of breath on his part. A pause, "how did--"

"She followed us."

Iwaizumi lets out a sigh as he moves towards you and you stagger back to hide your tears, but it proves useless when his hand grasps your arm to pull your hand away.

Deep brown mocha meet yours. Your throat tightens.

"Sorry," you breathe out a forced chuckle but it's clear from Iwaizumi's face that he's spotted your tears, and that he just knows that there is something bothering you.

But he doesn't ask. Doesn't question your intent or your feelings.

Instead, he pulls you close, close enough you're stumbling into him, before his hand wounds around the back of your head and presses you against his shoulder.

It shocks you, the sudden intimacy of his touch. His citrus smell once again invades your space and you can't find it in yourself to keep on holding on before you break down.

Maybe it's because you had felt-- at this point in time -- that you were someone significant in Hoisuke and Iwaizumi's life that you're not crying into Iwaizumi's shoulder as if everything is going downhill in your life. But you're comforted by the casual way he holds you with his head turned away so that you can bury yourself in the crook of his collarbone.

"Sorry," you manage to mumble out after you've managed to calm down. He's moved you back into your flat and has sat you down onto your kitchen chair, having rummaged through your utensils to bring you a cup of water that you sip on gratefully, if only to act as a distraction from the way he's gazing at you.

Iwaizumi shakes his head silently, looks away and clears his throat, "I'm gonna call her. You good?"

You nod and after searching your face for a few more seconds, he slides out of his seat and walks away with the device already presses to his ear. Bowing your head and gulping down the rest of the water, you manage to block out his angry alto resonating through the compact space as you focus on regaining control of yourself. You rarely fall to pieces like that, rarely give in to the downward pull of your emotions because the nature of your job obliges you to.

"Y/N."

You jump involuntarily and look up to see the said man sporting a frown, "is Hoisuke okay?" You ask.

"He's fine," a sigh escapes his lips as he slides back into the chair as if there's a weight pressing down onto his shoulders, "I'll pick him up tomorrow after school."

You nod. Good, the last thing you need is for Hoisuke to be disrupted by problems that don't concern him.

When he speaks next though, his alto is hoarse and thick, "I'm sorry Y/N. You don't deserve to get in the middle of all this."

"It's okay."

His eyes pierce yours with burning hot intensity, causing your gaze to drop to your fists laying across the table, knuckles so tight they're turning white.

A bout of silence ensues, lest for the pounding in your heart while your thoughts take on a tumultous turn for the worse. What if Mizune is angry? What if she stops Hoisuke from coming to school altogether? What if she makes her child move just for the sake of keeping him away from his teacher who can't seem to keep her nose out of anyone's business? What if--

Warmth floods your hands so suddenly that it interrupts your train of thought. Head jerking up in surprise to see Iwaizumi's hands clasp yours, your blood suddenly pulses through your limbs upon feeling his thumb gently stroke over your knuckles.

Iwaizumi is not a man of words. That much you know, but this evening has been full of surprises for you both. So you force yourself to relax, almost enjoying the gentlest of his touches fluttering across your skin.

"How," your words are choked, "how angry is she?"

"That doesn't matter."

"But what if--"

"None of this is your fault, Y/N," he replies firmly, followed by a gentle squeeze, "whatever you have cooking in that head of yours, stop."

Nodding and sighing in defeat, you lapse into a more comfortable silence as the time dwindles on. It's different to have someone else occupying your flat, considering that you've gotten so used to living along after your horrible breakup. A good kind of different.

When you bid him goodbye that evening -- granted you shall wake up with dark circles and puffy eyes the next day -- he suprises you with another casual, one-armed hug which signifies so much more for the usually reserved man, Hoisuke's bag hanging loosely from the other. He holds you close, his grip strong and secure and making you wish you can melt in a puddle of warmth at his feet, while his cheek pillows atop your temple against the side of your head. You lean in, cozy and warm, while his heart beats underneath your ear like a gentle drum easing you of today's worries and you wish you have the willpower to keep yourself away, in vain.

He pulls away slightly, mutters a soft "night" before a ghost of a kiss imprints itself on your temple.

Your breath hitches but the moment is gone all too son. He's already swivelling around and making his way down the corridor, leaving you to stare after him with a wild, raging heart.

You know, without a doubt, that you're already a little too skin-deep.

----

Iwaizumi is furious. Filled to the brim with a rage that's threatening to bubble over his insides.

He'd gone round to fetch Hoisuke in the morning as promised, just managing to keep himself from knocking his ex-wife's double mahogany doors down only to be greeted by that stupid bastard who'd stolen his wife away.

Todoka had always roamed within the same circle of friends as Iwaizumi and Mixune, having met under the same dormitory roof and sharing common sports interests. So imagine how big of a slap it was to hear that he'd been the one stealing kisses and sharing soft subtle touches with his wife behind his back.

"I could've driven him if only you'd let me," Mizune had told him as they waited for Hoisuke to finish brushing his teeth. is ex-wife's familiar soprano made him tense. Her face was a cold mask of indifference that covered up her silent anger. She'd folded her arms, chin jutted out and lips pursed, "he's my son too, you know."

"Was he still your son when you went and fucked Todoka?"

She'd sighed. As if dealing with the tantrum of a child, "Why are you bringing this up again?"

"Because you never put him first. Not when he threw his tantrums, not when he cried for you. Not even when he was sick," Iwaizumi spat out, the words tasting bitter upon his tongue.

"I had issues Hajime, you know that--"

"Like what? Like we weren't good enough for you? Like I wasn't pulling myself apart while you were out for nights on end?" Iwaizumi would've continued with an onslaught of pent-up statements if his son hadn't spoken out:

"Daddy?"

"Hey bud," Iwaizumi's anger had deflated like a hot air balloon, "you ready to go?"

And so he packed his son up in the car, his ex-wife watching his every move, and just after he'd closed his vehicle door did Mizune mention something about you.

"Do you like her?"

He'd bristled, "none of your business."

"Hoisuke is my son," Mizune's eyes had hardened into steel, "I don't need anyone else filling up his head with stupid ideas, nor do I want him to get hurt--"

"Like you did?" The words were fire burning upon his tongue. His shoulders were squared as he faced her fully, "stop beating around the bush, Mizune. We both know you hate the fact that Hoisuke loves spending time with Y/N."

"That's not it, I--"

"Y/N has spent more time with Hoisuke in a week than you did in a month. She's wiped his tears more timesthat you've seen him cry," he swivels towards his car then, "are we done?"

"You're acting like a child."

"I'm not the one picking a fight because of some petty jealousy," Iwaizumi had snapped.

"I'm not jealous!" Mizune burst out, her patience finally wearing thin, "I'm trying to look out for him, for you! She's not right for you--"

"Don't. Talk about her like that,” Anger had flared at how dismissively she spoke of you, visible as his knuckles tightened and a vein throbbed in his forehead, "and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay the fuck out of my life."

He'd driven off without looking back, knowing full well he'd shocked her into silence and if he were to be honest with himself, that outburst had eased some of the knots in his stomach. Dealing with Hoisuke's anxiety after witnessing yet another argument though, that was something else.

"Daddy, I don't understand why you and Mama fight so much," Hoisuke finally finds his voice when they stop inside the school gtounds. His small chubby hand, fitting into Iwaizumi's large one, cling to him with more force than necessary as they make their way to his respective class.

"Your mama and I...have different opinions on things," Iwaizumi tries to explain, suddenly guilty that his son has to pick up all the broken pieces. Impulsively, he ruffles Hoisuke's locks, "don't worry."

And that's when his son stops in mid-walk, looks him dead in the eye, and tells him, "Mama doesn't like miss Y/N, does she?"

It's a different kind of slap, but he shouldn't have understimated the little five year old. Children know much more than they let on snd here's the proof of it.

Iwaizumi allows both his hands to clasp Hoisuke's shoulders and bends down until they are face to face, "hey," dark mocha meets lighter caramel tinged with a fear of a child desperate for a family that all his friends can take for granted, "that doesn't matter. Do you like miss Y/N?"

Hoisuke nods, eyes wet.

Iwaizumi's heart swells and he swears he doesn't ever want to see that expression on his son's face, not if he can help it.

"Then it doesn’t matter what your Mom tells you," he squeezes the child's shoulder for good measure, "no one can boss you around and tell you that you're not allowed to like who you like," he brushes a few hairs off Hoisuke's forehead, "not me, not even your mom. Got that?"

“Will we be able to invite miss Y/N again?” Hoisuke asks with a trembling bottom lip. 

“If you want to.” 

“Do you want to, daddy?” 

That question takes him by surprise, the familiar guilt lurching through his stomach as he tries to comb through an excuse to hide his growing feelings. 

Except, why does he have to hide in the first place? 

It takes a moment, before Iwaizumi nods, “yeah,” he murmurs gently with the softest of smiles, “I want to.” 

Hoisuke nods once more, which is shortly followed by lurching into Iwaizumi's arms as a sob echoes from his throat. His father holds him close, glad that the earlier tension from Hoisuke's has dissipated into relief for now.

What he doesn’t know though, is that you stand just a few feet away, body tucked into the corner of the wall and holding up your racing heart against your chest. 

------

The more you spend more time with the Iwaizumis, the more your heart gets invested in the coaxing warmth that makes up their family. You try to dismiss what you've overheard back in the school corridor but it's an itch you can't quite erase now that you've been exposed to Iwaizumi's feelings, which does nothing to stop the way your heart skips a beat whenever his gaze lingers upon yours for too long.

And you've taken notice. Or you think you do. Of how he sounds more gentle whenever he talks to you, how whenever you play hands they drift towards each other for a few extra seconds that causes your skin to tingle with warmth. How it is so goddamn easy to fall into this familiar routine of playing families with Hoisuke around like a human sunshine.

But there's still one thing nagging you. Which is why you corner him once you have tucked Hoisuke into bed on Saturday night, seeking him out on the small terrace tucked beside his kitchen that overlooks the glowing city lights.

"Can I ask you something?"

His gaze flits to yours. He nods.

Swallowing back the sudden knot of anxiety in your throat, your question comes out more like a soft proposition rather than a demand fot answers.

"I know it's none of my business, but-- I overheard you and Hoisuke a few days ago in the school corridor," your words are rushed and quick as you fold your arms over your chest, "did you and Mizune have a fight...about me?"

Iwaizumi shifts in your peripheral to face you, but your eyes adamantly find purchase onto the cement ledge splattered with dirt. For a split second, you wonder whether it wouldn't have been better to keep your mouth shut.

"What did you hear?" He asks quietly.

With a slow breath, you tell him what you've heard, underlining that this whole encounter was an accident.

"And from the way she acted when she saw me...well, it's not hard to put two and two together," you finish off in a mumble, then quickly adding, "look I--I don't want to come in-between you and your family. I just don't want Hoisuke to get hurt."

Surprise flits through his features. He regards you for a long moment, long enough that you feel like squirming underneath his gaze.

Then, taking you by surprise, he chuckles softly and shifts his elbows onto the edge of the terrace, "No wonder he likes you."

You blink at him. It suddenly feels a little too warm.

"None of this is your fault, Y/N," you wonder since when have the formalities dropped from Miss Y/N to just Y/N and decide that you like the way your name rolls off his tongue, "Mizune gets jealous over stupid shit and if she can't see someone else making her son happy then that's not our problem."

Your teeth unconsciously find purchase onto your lower lip, which he notices. That doesn't stop him from reaching over to press his thumb against your lower lip, "don't."

You freeze at the touch. His thumb is warm against your mouth, calloused and sending a series of tingles down your spine.

He must realize the intimacy of his touch, for he drops his hand away and mutters, "he's...livelier. when you're around. Happier, even. I've never seen him like that with his Mama."

"What about you?"

You feel like slapping yourself. The audacity coming out of your mouth surprises you and you swear your cheeks burst into flames.

Iwaizumi looks at you almost at the same time your pupils focus on his, causing your breath to hitch.

Why the hell can't you just keep your mouth shut?

Iwaizumi's voice is merely a murmur when he speaks next, deep and laced with a roughness.

"What about me?"

Your brain seems to turn to mush, "do you like having me around?" You hope you don't sound too pathetic.

Your heart almost stops at his next set of words.

"I do."

And there's that smile, barely there but enough that your own lips stretch to mirror his action. Until you realize you are smiling at him like a fool and quickly look away like you've just been burnt.

Something shifts in the air between you, spurred on by the way your eyes keep searching each other's with a growing tension that makes your skin rattle. Iwaizumi's frown is present, yet not unpleasant and you're not quite sure who moves, just that he's suddenly a little closer. Close enough you get a whiff of the citrus smell you've come to recognize as his own.

"Miss Y/N?"

Hoisuke's voice suddenly snaps you out of your daze. Quickly whipping around to see the said boy rubbing his eyes, a hand unconscioudly scratching his tummy, your entire countenance softens as he blinks up at you sleepily.

"I can't sleep," he mumbles out with sleep still in his eyes, "can you come back to bed with me?"

"Yeah sure," you're already on your way over to him, scooping the child up in your arms. He takes this chance to bury his face into the crook of your neck, sighing contently.

You turn back to his father, a dark silhouette against the bright landscape, "I'll be right back."

But Hoisuke surprises you by saying, "you too, Daddy."

Iwaizumi stills, "what?"

"Come to bed too, Daddy."

For one single moment, it's like time stops. You can't see Iwaizumi's face but a moment later he straightens and walks over, nodding at you when he's close enough. You don't realize your heart is besting like a hummingbird until you hear it throbbing through your chest as you try squeezing into Hoisuke's bed, you in the corner and his father barely hanging onto the edge, Hoisuke squished in-between.

It's like an instinct for the boy to latch onto your shirt. He turns to burrow himself into the curve you've made with your body, facing Iwaizumi who is half-sitting, half-lying down in an angle that surely isn't comfortable.

So you decide to point it out to him, patting the bed for good measure in hopes that he doesn't notice the warm flush of your neck.

"It's okay," your whisper tickles Hoisuke's hair, "it's only until he falls asleep."

He hesitates, before you see his head nod and he slides his body a little closer, chest curving into Hoisuke's back and close enough for you to get bathed in his warmth.

He smells good. He looks good. God. Why does he look so damn good?

Stop! You squeeze your eyes shut aa if that might help your racing thoughts, and you are so caught up in your own head that you almost miss the gentle brush of Iwaizumi's fingers against your shoulder.

You tense up right before realizing that his action is intentional. Your shoulders slowly relax, a shaky exhale escaping your lips as he takes the chance to linger over your arm a little longer, before falling away onto the mattress.

You fall asleep that night listening to not just Hoisuke's, but Iwaizumi's heartbeat. 

----

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