#like my parents would buy my new controllers for my brother and give him a “budget” of 20 bucks A WEEK for video game microtransactions

[buckbutch]

I've lived my whole life with Angry Cis Men and I can't wait until I don't have to anymore..... screaming swearing saying slurs kicking and hitting shit over extremely minor inconveniences that you can hear through the whole house when their lives are much easier than mine it's so obnoxious and ridiculous

[luminoustarlight]

As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Two

It's your first day of work at Skywalker Enterprises.

◂ chapter one ▸ chapter three

rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3

warnings: swearing, age-gaps, sexual fantasies

The moms at St. Lucas Preparatory School are shameless. Single, divorced, and married women (and some men) alike can’t help but hold their breath when Anakin Skywalker steps onto campus. The dads are intimidated by him and the moms… well, let’s just say the moms have less than school appropriate thoughts about the billionaire. 

Anakin detests the end of the year. He hates being involved at the school. He doesn’t want to spend 2 hours of his day off packing meals in a crowded gymnasium with other parents who also don’t want to be there. 

He doesn’t want to make small talk or ask about Luke and Leia’s classmates because frankly, he doesn’t give a crap. The only children he likes are his own and he won’t pretend otherwise. 

“Mr. Skywalker,” Leia’s teacher, Ms. Clark sighs, “you are the only parent in my class who has yet to sign up for a slot at this year's Cranberry Sauce.” Cranberry Sauce is just the name the school gives the Thanksgiving Drive to make it sound more “fun”. 

Anakin gives his children a kiss on their foreheads and sends them through the school gates. Once they’re out of earshot, he addresses Leia’s teacher. “I already wrote a check to buy the damn food. Isn’t that sufficient?” 

“Mr. Skywalker,” Ms. Clark repeats with annoyance. If it were up to her, she’d let Anakin donate all of the money he wants in order to keep him from volunteering at school events. She thinks he’s arrogant, stuck-up, and far too handsome for any man to be. So she decides to loathe him since she can’t fuck him. But Headmaster Franklin is adamant Anakin attends the event. 

“I really insist that you participate for at least an hour at Cranberry Sauce next weekend. It is important for your children to see you involved at the school. At their school.” 

Anakin’s tall and broad stature seems to grow even larger at this statement. How dare this woman insinuate anything about him as a father? 

“You think I’m not involved in my childrens’ lives?” Anakin has just enough self-control not to completely raise his voice at his daughter’s fourth grade teacher. Especially since parents are continuing to drop off their kids. “You think I’m an absent father who gives the school money to compensate for my lack of paternal instincts?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Ms. Clark answers cautiously. “There is no need to make a scene. I have no doubts you are an excellent father, Mr. Skywalker. I don’t think Leia would be the young lady she is if you weren’t. One hour. That's all we ask.” 

Anakin raises an eyebrow. “We?” 

“Oh, um, well-” Ms. Clark stammers. Busted. She sighs with defeat. “Headmaster Franklin would very much like to see you there.”

“I’m sure he would,” Anakin replies smugly. Headmaster Franklin wants him there for publicity. Anakin should be more pissed about that than being accused of not being a present parent, but he’s not. He likes his ego stroked every now and then. “One hour.” 

“Thank you,” Ms. Clark smiles tightly. “Does 10-11 work for you?” 

“Fine,” Anakin waves his hand dismissively as he gets a message on his phone. 

Ben Kenobi 

Your new secretary is here. 

Shit. It’s Anakin’s first day without Dorothy. No wonder the morning has gone the way it has. Between Luke spilling orange juice on his shirt, Leia’s uncooperating French braids, and his conversation with Ms. Clark, Anakin can’t help but fear the change in routine with a new assistant. He types his response. 

Anakin Skywalker

Assistant. Not secretary. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. 

Ben Kenobi 

If you say so. 

Ben Kenobi is Anakin’s closest friend. Some might even call them brothers. Ben is fifteen years older than Anakin, married to the mayor, and enjoys fly fishing on the weekends. He’s also Luke and Leia’s godfather. Should anything happen to Anakin, there is no one else he’d trust to raise and watch over his children than Ben Kenobi. 

And Ben knows better than anyone that Anakin doesn’t like change. He’s been dreading Dorothy’s last day since she told him she was retiring a year ago. How was he going to find someone as good as her? Someone who anticipates his needs before he does? 

That’s why he tasked her with finding her own replacement. He’s just too busy to interview a replacement for Dorothy himself. He wouldn’t know what to look for, anyway. If he doesn’t know what he wants in a woman to date, how is he supposed to know what he wants in a new assistant? 

.

.

. 

“Mr. Skywalker is not in at the moment. Can I take a message?” You’ve uttered that exact sentence at least seven times since you arrived at the office at 8:00 a.m. Now, as it nears 9:00, you expect to see your new boss very soon. 

Each time you hear the elevator ding, you look up with hopefulness at the arrival of the esteemed Anakin Skywalker. What will you say to him? How will you introduce yourself? Will he be nice and welcoming? God, you hope so. You’ve read just about every article, watched every interview, and listened to every podcast he’s done to prepare yourself for the job. The consensus is the same in all of them. 

Anakin Skywalker is generous, he’s polite, and generally gets along with everyone— if you don’t get on his nerves. And, according to Dorothy, he’s a charmer. 

“Yes, absolutely,” you say while taking notes of the message on a legal pad. Your head is down so you don’t notice Anakin walking out of the elevator. He stops 5 steps away from your desk. His ribs feel like they’re collapsing around his lungs because of that voice. Why does he know that voice? 

“I will let Mr. Skywalker know you called as soon as he gets into the office.” You hang up the phone and as you look up, there he is in all of his gorgeous glory. 

You actually have to tell yourself to take a breath because he’s even more handsome in person. Faint lines around his eyes represent years of life he lived before you were born. His dark blonde hair is combed back effortlessly and is it wrong that you want to run your hands through it? Yeah, probably. He’s your boss and over twenty years older than you. 

“It’s-” Anakin can’t even say more than that because holy fuck. Is he dreaming? He squeezes his eyes and then opens them, only to see you now standing with your hand extended to him. “It’s… you.” 

“Um, yes,” you say while awkwardly returning your arm to your side. “I’m Y/N. Your new assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Skywalker.” 

“I- um, yes,” Anakin clears his throat. Christ, that wasn’t even a sentence. “I need to take care of something,” he says on his way towards his office. “I am not to be disturbed until I come out. Do you understand?” 

“Y-yes. Yes, sir,” you barely answer before Anakin’s office door is shut violently. Well, that certainly wasn’t the introduction you were expecting or hoping for. You’re starting to think not meeting him beforehand was a bad idea. It honestly should’ve been a red flag but Dorothy insisted it was fine. 

It doesn’t seem fine. 

And things definitely aren’t fine. For Anakin, that is. To say he’s freaking out is putting it lightly. He paces the length of his office, shoving his fingers through his hair and muttering to himself. “It can’t be. There’s no way it can be her.” 

Maybe he’s hallucinating. Maybe he’s having an incredibly vivid dream where his favorite OnlyFans performer, who he has known as HoneySuckle for the last three years is his new assistant. What did you say your name is? Anakin couldn’t hear you over the erection that was forming in his pants because he knows your voice. He’s cum from your voice alone. He’s cum because of you so, so many times. 

This can’t be happening. 

He’s never seen your entire face but he knows it’s you. He’d recognize your lips in a police lineup. He hears your voice in his wet dreams. He just knows it’s you. 

And the fact that he has a hard-on is a problem. A problem he wishes you could take care of but you can’t because now you work for him and he’s your boss. This is all so, so wrong. 

Anakin doesn’t so much sit on his leather chair as he does collapse into it. This was never supposed to happen. Yes, he has dreamed about meeting you on more than one occasion. He’s thought about telling you who he is during your countless direct messages so many times. He’s thought about using his infinite resources to find out who you really are on more than one occasion.

But he always concluded that it would be so insanely wrong and borderline creepy if he did that. You were always supposed to remain a fantasy. Just a nameless woman on a screen who doesn’t live in the same country, state, or city as him. 

Yet here you are— sitting outside of his office, taking his calls, calling him Mr. Skywalker and being even more beautiful than he could have imagined. 

You are no longer the woman on his tablet spewing filthy words as you make yourself orgasm. You’re tangible. You have a name- although he can’t remember what it is. He replays the interaction over in his head. The feeling he felt when he saw you was reminiscent of seeing his wife walk down the aisle at their wedding. He was a blundering mess then, just as he is a blundering mess now. 

He doesn’t even want to think about your first impression of him. He’s supposed to be Anakin Skywalker for crying out loud! The suave, handsome millionaire who has the ability to make men cower and women fall to their knees. The embarrassment he feels from that interaction is enough to subdue his hard-on. He pours himself a bit of Bourbon, shoots it back like it’s a normal thing to do at 9 in the morning, and prepares to reintroduce himself to you. 

Anakin smooths his hands down his slacks before opening his door. As his eyes are magnetized to you, his heart starts beating irregularly. Get a fucking grip. 

You stand attentively when you notice Anakin walking towards you. Worried you made a terrible impression on him, you wait to speak. But Anakin doesn’t say anything either and now he’s standing in front of your desk, all tall and lean and smelling like Cedar and Whiskey. He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read. Did Dorothy tell him anything about you? Or did he go into this just as blind as you did? 

His eyes seem to dance all over your body which makes you feel like he’s studying you. Or criticizing every single thing about your appearance. From your simple burgundy dress to the pearl studs you bought with some of Skyguy81’s most recent (and overly generous) tip. 

Finally, because his gaze on you was becoming too much to bear, you are the one to talk first. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Skywalker?” 

Yeah, you can remind him of your name for starters. “Do you have messages for me?” is what he asks instead. 

“Yes,” you answer, picking up the pad you’ve been scribbling notes on for the last hour. “Rex sent over the final schematics for the 0525 project that needs your approval by 3 p.m. today in order to begin production. Mayor Kryze’s office called about the upcoming Gala in December and wanted to know if you would be in attendance. And if so, how many tickets should they reserve? Oh, and someone from St. Lucas Preparatory School called to let you know that your son ripped his pants and needs a new pair brought to school because they don’t have any new pants in his size.” 

Anakin taps his index finger on your desk while he listens to you. He barely registers anything you say because it’s really hard to hear your voice without getting aroused. It’s hard even looking at you without automatically picturing you naked. There’s not an inch of your skin he’s never seen. Well, except for the top half of your face which now, of course, he has seen. And God, does he love what you have to offer. 

You’re still relaying messages but suddenly you’re bent over your desk, gripping the edge of it with pale knuckles as Anakin slams into you over, and over, and over. He’s making you yelp his name so loudly the whole building can hear you. 

“Mr. Skywalker?” 

Anakin snaps back into reality where you’re still fully clothed and definitely not moaning his name. “What?” comes out a little harsher than he intended. And he immediately regrets it when he sees you visibly shrink right before him. 

“What- what would you like me to tell the Mayor’s office?” 

Anakin has gone as a bachelor to the last two Christmas Galas. Ben stays close to Satine the whole night and he really doesn’t see the point in asking a woman he has no interest in to be his date. Plus, going alone lets him leave the party with whomever he wants or to call it a night and go home early to watch ELF and drink peppermint cocoa with his kids. 

“Have them put me down for 2.” 

You nod whilst making another note on the pad. “And what about your son’s pants?” 

“Did they say where he ripped them?” 

“Right down the middle,” you answer. 

Anakin shakes his head. “Oh, Luke,” he mutters to himself. “Alright, I’ll go home and get him a new pair.” 

“Icandoit,” rushes out of your mouth. 

“What?” 

“Sorry, my mouth moved faster than my brain,” you reply, hoping Anakin will find it endearing instead of annoying. “I said I can do it. I don’t mind. It’s my job, isn’t it?” 

Anakin opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Yes, technically it’s your job to do this sort of errand. But Anakin doesn’t want you going to his house alone, sifting through his son’s drawers, and bringing him new pants to his school. 

Primarily because he’d much rather you be in his home under different circumstances. 

“We’ll go together,” Anakin decides against his better judgment. “I’ll drive.”

.

.

.

So, Anakin definitely didn’t think things through when he said he’d drive. 

In what world did he think sharing a close, confined space with you was a good idea? This whole morning has been a cluster-fuck. Honestly. He’s still struggling to wrap his head around who you are. When you announced Squirting for Sky was going to be your last video, he thought what a devastation it would be to not look forward to your videos every week. Who would’ve thought you’d be the one replacing his dear old assistant the very next week? The odds of it all are overwhelming. 

But isn’t this what he’s always wanted? The opportunity to meet you? To know your name and know you personally? Every wish of his has been granted— except for the fact that he is your boss and you are technically his subordinate. He says technically because Dorothy always felt more like family than an employee. 

You could be family. 

You could be so much more than his assistant.

Oh, Jesus Christ, Anakin. Be reasonable. She’s your employee. She’s practically a kid. 

Anakin looks over to you for the first time since getting in the car. You’re pressed against the side of the passenger door, knees angled away from him and arms crossed over your chest. “Are you cold?” 

“Oh,” you say, looking at him with a tentative smile. “A little.” 

“You should’ve said so,” Anakin turns on the heater and your seat warmer. “My kids call seat warmers butt toasters. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty.” 

You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. 

There’s an awkward pause as Anakin realizes what he just said. He absolutely cannot think about your butt any longer than he has to because we all know how that will end.

 (A hard cock, in case that wasn’t clear). 

 “I mean, uh- shit,” Anakin briefly closes his eyes to compose himself. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty? 

“Just turn it off yourself if you get too warm.” 

Do you make him nervous? No way. You decide to let it go. “Kids? Plural?” 

“Yeah.” Anakin drapes his right arm over the center console and taps his fingers against the gear shift. Long, dexterous fingers at that. You have to look away before you start thinking about something completely inappropriate of your boss. “I have twins. A boy and a girl. Luke, he’s the silly one. Right now he’s big into archeology. He’s also pretty clumsy, hence the rip in his pants. And Leia, my daughter, she’s far too serious for any 9 year old to be. She says she wants to be a senator when she grows up.” 

This is the longest you’ve been able to look at Anakin without feeling your cheeks burning. Now, they’re just hot because of the heater blasting in your face. “You light up when you talk about them,” you say. “You must love them a lot.” 

“More than anything,” Anakin doesn’t hesitate. “Here we are.” 

You should’ve been paying attention on how to get to his house from the office. Surely, you’ll be running these errands on your own if things go well with your employment. Oh, well. That’s what the Maps is for. 

Anakin’s house is a stunning Eichler. It looks straight out of an Architectural Digest cover. The lawn outside is perfectly cropped and perfectly green but littered with a soccer ball, football, a baseball bat and whiffle balls. You wouldn’t have pegged Anakin for a mid-century modern kind of guy. You would’ve thought he’d opt for an insanely modern, sterile house. 

As you walk through the atrium and into the main body of the house, it’s clear it is a family home. Anakin uses his foot to sweep his kids’ shoes out of the way so you don’t trip over them. “Sorry about the mess.” 

“It’s okay,” you shrug. Anakin’s house isn’t even all that messy. It just looks like a home. There are so many pictures on the walls, it would be impossible to look at all of them in one go. One in particular, though, catches your eye. It’s the largest out of all of them and the only one in black and white. A significantly younger Anakin is at the bedside of who you presume to be his wife with two bundles of babies in their arms. They are both looking down and smiling. His wife was stunning. They definitely made an attractive couple. 

It’s not lost on you that there are no other pictures of Anakin’s kids with their mom. He’s only spoken about his wife’s death in one interview, about a year after her passing. If you remember correctly, she died shortly after the twins were born. 

You can’t imagine the kind of pain and heartache Anakin must have felt losing his wife. You don’t know what it feels like to experience that kind of grief. You want to tell Anakin you’re sorry for his loss, but what good will that do? Is there any consolation in that at all? 

You’re still looking at the photo when Anakin returns from Luke’s room with a new pair of tan pants. You can feel his presence right beside you and the silence is louder than words. 

He shouldn’t have brought you back here. It’s only your first day and you’ve already seen too much of his life. 

“Let’s go,” Anakin orders. You nod without a word and follow him out to the car. 

The tension in the air is palpable on your way to St. Lucas Prep. You feel like you’ve done something wrong by simply stepping foot in Anakin’s house. His whole demeanor shifted when he came back to the front room with Luke’s pants. Does he regret bringing you to the house? If so, why? Dorothy clearly laid out your responsibilities to you. Tending to personal matters at Anakin’s house is part of the job. You are not just a professional assistant, but a personal assistant, too.

You can’t stand not knowing why someone is upset with you. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Anakin’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “No.” 

Wow, how reassuring. “Okay, then why do I feel like I did something to upset you?” 

You’re really pressing your limit with him right now. You’ve only just met 2 hours ago. See, this is why meeting him should’ve been part of the hiring process. You’d be a lot more acquainted with each other than you are right now. 

If only you knew how acquainted Anakin is with you… 

“You didn’t,” is all he says. But with a twitch of his jaw, you still feel like he’s not telling you the truth. 

“Look, Mr. Skywalker,” you begin. “I understand Dorothy meant a great deal to you, and her leaving is going to be an adjustment. But I promise you I am capable of this job. I’m never late, I’m up late all the time so if there was anything you needed, I’d be able to fulfill it. I love kids, I’m a hard worker and I would really appreciate it if you gave me a chance before making any decisions about me.” 

“You’re right,” Anakin says. “I’ll give you a chance.”  But he’s already made up his mind. He doesn’t have to ‘give you a chance’ to know that he wants you. He is crawling out of his skin with how badly he wants you. And he knows it’s wrong, probably immoral, but he really doesn’t care. Because now that you’ve been inside of his home, the boundary that should exist between him as your boss and you as his employee feels impossibly blurry.

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter three

[occatorcreator]

Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

2 - Lonely Purpose

Purple seeks out a new purpose in the wake of his mother's passing and makes a new life in the world of Minecraft. Through it, he ends up crossing paths with a group of stick figures in need. Content Warnings: Character death, grieving, canon typical violence

Purple returned to the city to bury Orchid. There was no body to bury, but a grave was something Orchid requested in her end-of-life plan, and Purple would honor her last requests. 

It didn’t change the hollow feeling he had standing before her grave. He had cried all of yesterday, and his eyes felt raw and painful, but he couldn’t summon any more tears. So he simply stewed in his emptiness.

He was the only one there for her funeral. 

I mean, of course he wouldn’t show up, Purple thought. I should be glad to not see him… it would just be awkward. As if he cares that his ex-spouse is gone.

The lawyer reached out to Navy regarding the death. Navy should have learned of Orchid’s passing and Purple’s destitution. But of course how could one reach someone who left without any contact for over a year? Purple would be a fool to hope to see him here.

So, why was he so upset that Navy failed to show?

I can’t be here, Purple turned away, the numbness turning into an unexpectedly painful vise in his chest. He left his mother’s grave and the cemetery behind as quickly as he could, bolting down the sidewalk until he had no energy left to run.

He leaned against a wall, watching as stick figures passed by with faded interest. He stood as still as a statue, watching passerbys go into the stores. There were parents holding little kids by their hands, groups of friends chatting close to each other, lovers holding hands and laughing...

Everyone was lively and moving around like usual. The day was bright and sunny, birds were chirping. As if this wasn’t the worst day of Purple’s life. 

A group of teenagers passed by him. When Purple watched them, he recognized all of them as old friends from school. All but one. A tall, lanky orange hollow head towered over them and chatted with arms waving animatedly. Their eyes briefly met Purple’s and for a split, terrifying second, Purple thought they were going to try to rope him into small talk.

But they didn’t, they just waved and continued walking with their group. A couple of others looked back at Purple, and Purple tried not to notice their confused and judging gazes. The teens turned a corner, but Purple caught his name whispered among them.

“Hold on, was that Purple back there?” 

With heavy limbs, Purple followed behind them. He moved silently, trying to be discreet in the fact he was following them.

It has been five months since I dropped out, Purple realized. It had to be summer break now.

“Do you know them, Peri?” The orange hollow head asked.

“Yeah, he disappeared before you transferred in, Second,” the stick figure Purple knew as Periwinkle said. “He was in my financial elective...”

“And he was a total scumbag,” a dark violet stick figure jumped in.

“Saffron,” Periwinkle admonished.

“What? It’s true!” The oddly named Saffron said. Purple recalled her brazenness. She was Periwinkle’s annoying younger sister and highly protective of her softhearted brother. Any slight against him, no matter how small, earned her ire.

“What did Purple do?” Second asked.

“Ah, Purple is someone you wouldn’t want to get close to,” added a brown stick figure beside them. “He acts friendly at first, gives gifts to buy your affection. But he’s highly controlling. The moment you don’t do what he wants or if you inconvenience him, he dumps you and goes after the next sucker.”

Chestnut… Purple grimaced at his ex-friend’s bitterness. He lagged behind, increasing the distance between them.

“I think that’s being a little bit uncharitable,” Periwinkle added, “I think he really admired you, Chestnut.”

“Ugh, don’t even joke about that, Peri?” Chestnut said, punching Periwinkle in the arm. Her disgust was hard not to hear from this distance.

“Why are you even defending him? Do I need to remind you how Purple borrowed your prized umbrella?” Saffron said, “and you never got it back even after asking about it?”

“I never forgot that…” Periwinkle nodded, and Purple saw his shoulders slump. “Gosh, it still hurts to think about it. I spent so much money getting that, it was one of a kind.”

“Exactly! And now it’s gone because of him! You’re being too nice!”

Second, sensing that their friend group was getting agitated, coughed in their hands.

“Anyways, I asked Mango this morning, and he said I can go to the arcade with you all!”

Saffron pumped her hands in the air while Periwinkle clapped. “Awesome!”

“Yeah, enough about Purple,” Chestnut said, not leaving much alone, slinging her arm around Second’s shoulders. “Be grateful you never met him. He’d be horrible to you too.”

“Chestnut,” Second scolded.

“Sorry, I’ll stop,” Chestnut finished.

Then they chatted about arcade games. Purple didn’t catch anything else as he stopped in his tracks, watching as the group retreated. He couldn't stand to listen anymore as he felt like he was close to decking one of them.

Why… was the whole school glad I was gone for months? Purple thought,  clenching his fists. Was I really that awful to you?

He and Chestnut certainly had a falling out, but he swore his attempts at being her friend were genuine. Complimenting and giving gifts- how else was he supposed to make friends? It wasn’t his fault they had incompatible personalities! Not everyone can be so blaisé about everything! Was it a crime to expand his social circle?

Not like those sticks liked me for long… Purple thought, recalling how he fell out of that clique faster than he did with Chestnut.

Periwinkle was nice; Purple did intend to only borrow the umbrella since he had none that rainy day. But of course, with his horrid luck, he ended up breaking it on the way home and feared how Periwinkle would react. How was he supposed to know that it was a special one of a kind?

Stupid idiot’s too obsessive over umbrellas, Purple grinded his teeth. If he and his sister blow a gasket over a lost umbrella of all things, then no sane person should deal with them!

He felt raw and scratched, scoured by their claws. How he hated them. Truly hated them all. Especially that Second kid- what a stupid name. While he didn’t know anything about them, he hated how the three people who he couldn’t befriend clung to them so easily. He hated how Second had to only look at him to ruin his horrible day even further. He hated that they had some parent to come home to after fun at the arcade with friends while Purple was all alone.

I hate you! Purple thought with bared teeth. I hope you all suffer like I did! Hope your days are as rotten and horrid as mine!

I hate all of you!

=

Alana reminded Purple that he could stay on the desktop for as long as he liked. That arrangement worked out for Purple because he had no reason to leave the computer. He didn’t want to return to school, and he had no desire to find a job and be a cog in some miserable system in the city. On the desktop, he had more freedom to do what he wanted.

And he just wanted to lie in his bed and wallow in his sadness.

He let the grief drape over him. It made his limbs heavy as lead and turned his mind to static. Food and activities were bland; he had no desire to do much of anything. Aside from Alana, there wasn’t anyone checking on him. He had no idea where the villager caretaker went or if they were somehow deleted, but he couldn’t even begin to care. 

How odd it felt to be purposeless. How the drive and desperation to find a cure for his mother vanished with her body, leaving behind exhaustion and nothingness.

The only time he felt anything other than despair was when he dreamed. The dreams were both cruel and relieving. He dreamt of being a prince in a grand castle. His mother and friends were there in that castle to greet him and go on fun adventures. Waking was painful, as it brought those sweet dreams to an end and dumped him back to the cold, lonely reality. The more he slept, the longer the dreams went and more intense the pain of waking became.

I wish I could stay in my dreams…

But then one night, they changed. Instead of continuing the fantasy, he dreamt he was in a void. A light shone above, with pink petals floating down around him.

Orchid petals? Purple thought, holding a hand out to catch a petal. Mom?

Instinctively he looked around, trying to find Orchid in the pitch dark, only to flinch when he saw Navy standing before him in the gloom. 

“Why are you here?” Purple raised hands up defensively. He had not dreamt of his father once in his fantasy world. It was as if he was banished from his dreams.

Yet Navy stood before him, staring. The stare was all too familiar, that cold, guarded stare before he walked out of Orchid and Purple’s life.

“What?” Purple demanded, “what do you want? What right do you have to judge me?”

Navy said nothing. He should have said something by now. 

“Be gone with you!” Purple waved, “Do what you always do and just leave me already!”

To that, Navy’s gave a disappointed sigh.

“You can’t even keep your promises,” he said, “that’s it, I guess. I’m leaving.”

He turned and walked away into the void.

“What?” Purple never recalled him saying that before. He didn’t understand. “Wait!” Purple took a step forward. “What do you mean by that? Answer me!”

Navy kept walking; Purple couldn’t catch up. Despite telling him to leave, he still chased after his father.

What promise am I breaking?

When Purple awoke, he remembered his mother’s dying breath: she’d asked for Purple to take care of himself.

Sleeping in bed, shutting myself from the world, Purple’s heart hammered. I’m not keeping to that promise.

And he loathed that a dream version of Navy could be right! 

For the first time since he left his mother’s grave, the drive fueled him. He thought he lost it to grief. That dream, his father’s words criticizing his ineptitude, gave him something for his churning anger to sharpen itself against.

I’ll take care of myself, he thought, no, I’ll do better, I will thrive. He’d prove his father, those teens, and everyone who ever doubted and looked down on little Purple wrong!

He would be great.

Purple crawled out of bed. His muscles protested at the exertion he was unused to after months of laying around. He forced himself to hold his head high.

“How about…” Purple said as he spotted the remains of his and Orchid’s castle. “I finish that castle of mine.”

=

Purple wanted to play Minecraft legitimately. No cheats, no spawning things. He was going in to play like any other player. He had a new goal for his playthrough. He aimed to become a true king of Minecraft.

He started with only the essentials and got to mining. He had his basic goals set for making his kingdom: get enough cobblestone and wood to build his castle and starting houses, locate some villagers, and… well he hadn’t figured out step three yet, but the first two were going to be huge.

There were enemies. Fighting them wasn’t as bad as Purple initially feared. If anything, felling the zombies, creepers, and skeletons, then the tougher ghasts, endermen, and wither skeletons, made Purple feel powerful.  All those rusted fighting skills he neglected were sharpening and, for once, he enjoyed the combat. With the right equipment and enchantments, enemy encounters hardly concerned him.

He found some zombie villagers too and, desiring to build a village the proper way, successfully escorted and cured those zombie villagers. And, oh, how he was praised for his heroics! The cured villagers bowed to him as their savior, Lord Purple!

Not the pathetic Purple I was before now, huh? Purple thought, puffing his chest in pride.

But the joy never lasted. The glory he got from fighting turned dull as the enemies were no match for his sword. The villagers had children. Seeing happy little kids running around while their happy parents watched, filled Purple’s hollow heart with venom. Their praise towards his greatness suddenly felt shallow and fake, especially knowing how much he loathed to see them prosper when he still felt horrible.

It didn’t help that the next day, all those kids grew into adults. The very sight of this rapid aging caused Purple to retreat into his castle and remain there for three days. He glared at the wall, unable to sleep and failing to calm himself down. Once again, all the motivation deserted him, and a part of him wanted to burn this fake village and false castle to the ground.

“Why?” He asked a portrait of a bizarre wither skull formation, “why is it that I’ve accomplished so much more than I did in school, and I still feel this way?”

The skull painting did not answer, but Purple suspected it knew fully well why. 

Purple imagined his mother telling him that he was pushing himself too hard, but the thoughts of her words just made him curl further in a miserable ball. How could he enjoy even the false, temporary victories of a game when she wasn't there to see them?

Only Navy’s words spurred Purple out of his funk on the third day when he fell asleep. You can’t even keep your promises... 

“Right. Castle and village is done. I need a new goal,” he said and eyed the skull painting. It was such a peculiar piece that he wondered if it was a hint that if he made something like that he’d summon something like an iron golem. Something evil.

If so, if I make this and defend the village from this beast, Purple thought, then I’d be a legend to them!

Plus, he’d like a challenging fight for once. Time to visit the nether and grab some skulls.

=

“Ugh, finally!” Purple said as he successfully pried the third wither skeleton’s skull off and it didn’t disintegrate to ash. “I swear, hunting for skulls is such a pain.”

But he finally got three skulls and the soul sand. He was done with his nether trip. Time to head back and figure out what he’d summon-

Bang! Bang!

The nether caverns echoed with the sound of rhythmic thumping. Purple felt the walls around him tremble as the thumping grew louder and louder. He looked around, clutching the wither skull to his chest, as he tried to find the source of the noise.

“The hell is going on?” Purple gasped.

Suddenly, there was a scream. Purple only had a split second to turn towards that scream before a stick figure dressed in armor landed right on top of him and knocked him to the ground.

“Yeouch!” Purple wheezed. His health went down to half from the impact, and he shoved the stick figure off of him. Before he could get a good look at them, more screams were heard, and additional stick figures landed next to him, narrowly missing his battered body.

Why is it raining stick figures?! Purple looked bewildered between the group of stick figures. The green, blue, and yellow stick figures lay on the ground, their health at half a heart. The blue and yellow sticks were dazed, diamond armor shattered to pieces around them, while the green stick figure only had a cracked diamond helmet left.

The green one was moving, able to rise up because his fall was cushioned by landing right on Purple. He coughed, pushing himself on shaky arms and legs.

“Yellow? Blue? You-” he paused when his gaze met Purple’s. “-alive?”

Purple stared back and, unable to think of a better response, waved.

The stick figure, he presumed named Green given the naming convention, waved back. “Um, hi?”

Bang! Bang!

Purple and Green looked up at the ceiling where the noise came from. In the gloom, Purple could make out the stick figure shaped holes they fell through. A fine layer of dust fell from above.

“I take it you didn’t mine straight down,” Purple mumbled.

“Oh no!” Green forced himself up and ran to shake Blue and Yellow violently. “We don’t have time! Come on, get up!”

“What’s going on?” Purple asked, shouting over the thumping.

“Um, it’s a bit of a long story!” Green yelled back as he lifted Blue to her feet. She was waking, as was Yellow, but neither of them were in any good condition to stand for long.

“Condense it then!” Purple pulled out a potion of healing and threw it on them. The cloud restored their health to full instantly. The three stick figures leapt up, looking at their now healed bodies in shock.

“Woah! How did you do that?” Blue asked.

“Not now,” Purple waved his hands and pointed at the continuous banging above. “What is going on?”

“Ok! We found this game icon on our desktop!” Green explained, pulling out a sword. The tip cracked apart and caused him to pause as he tried to fix it.

“And we were building things with the stuff that came out,” Yellow picked up. They pulled their ax out, only to despair as it crumbled apart too, “taking turns and all that.”

“But when we gave the game icon to Red,” Blue said, staring ruefully at the busted bow in her hands. “She attacked us.”

“Attacked you?” Purple asked.

“Yeah, she wasn’t acting like herself!” Green rushed, “She just went wall eyed and hoarded the icon. We tried to stop her but…”

Bang! Purple heard blocks from above fall to the lava.

“She’s now piloting a giant block stick figure and ended up shoving us down here.” Yellow finished. 

“I don’t think we have much time before she follows us here,” Blue added, clutching her head. “Oh, what are we going to do?”

Yeah, that seems like your problem, Purple thought, heart hammering wildly. He wanted a fight earlier, but given the sounds of what was coming, he opted to flee. He turned about to run before Green snatched his arm.

“Let go of me!”

“Please! You don’t have to fight for us, but we don’t have weapons or armor!” Green said. He clasped his hands together. “Please, can you lend anything?”

“I don’t have any extra swords!” Purple exclaimed. “I barely have enough potions after all the fighting I did!”

Bang! The other stick figures looked nervously at each other, rifling desperately through their belongings and finding little to help, fishing rods, crafting tables, jungle trees…

Yeah, they’re screwed, Purple thought, looking for his way back to the desktop.

 “Look, I'm just going to head to the portal,” Purple said, “and if you guys have any sense, you’ll join me! Hopefully, Red will be too big to enter!”

The others looked at each other with mixed expressions, confusion, nervousness, and disdain.

“We can’t do that,” Green said, “she would be stuck here if we did that!”

“And how do you know she couldn’t smash her way through?” Yellow added.

Purple stared at Yellow and found himself glaring when he realized it made too much sense.

Ah! What do I do then? Purple thought, looking down at his wither skull helplessly. But as he stared at the empty eye sockets, Purple found an answer in them.

“Hold on,” he said, “I think I have an idea to help you with your problem.”

=

The plan was half baked given that they only had seconds to execute it. Yellow and Green set it up so they were ready to lure Red to the nether fortress while Purple and Blue made the wither skull statue.

Red came down from above and the very sight of the behemoth in obsidian blocks was almost enough for Purple to return to his “let’s flee to my village” idea.

“So, you are sure this thing we're summoning will be enough against her?” Blue asked.

Purple nodded even though he hadn’t a clue if the summoning would even work. “When we see their signal, just put down the last wither skull.”

Blue bit her lip, glancing from the obsidian stick figure chasing down Green, back to Purple.

“Is there a risk it would kill her?”

Purple blinked. “Aren't you trying to fight her?”

“Fight her, yes, not kill her!” Purple could see a glossy sheen form in Blue’s eyes. “I don’t know what will happen if she dies here.”

“She’ll respawn at her last checkpoint,” Purple said, but his stomach clenched. Assuming you have a respawn point set to begin with.

That didn’t give her any relief. Blue wordlessly sniffed and wiped her eyes.

In the distance, Purple saw the fishing rods fly and snag the head of the obsidian tower. “Ok, now!”

Blue placed the last head down. Upon doing so the statue turned into a three headed skeleton that let out a horrific howl. It glowed blue and was blinking rapidly.

Oh no…

“Uh, what do we do now?” Blue asked.

“Run!” Purple yelled, grabbing Blue by the hand and running away from the fortress. He cupped his hands and shouted at Yellow and Green. “Run!”

They could hardly react to the warning before a thunderous kaboom sounded behind Blue and Purple. The Wither was airborne, screeching and hurling hissing skulls right at them with wild abandon.

This is dumb! This is so dumb! Purple thought as he and the others scattered to dodge the projectiles. Why did I think summoning a giant enemy to fight another giant enemy was a good idea?!

The Wither did not discriminate. It targeted the stick figures as well as the obsidian figure. Its skulls landed right on the head and exploded it to bits. The explosion sent the red stick figure inside flying across the Nether.

Ah, I’m glad I didn’t summon that thing by my village! Purple thought. That thing is tearing through obsidian like tissue paper! 

Blue raced down the walkway and held out her arms to catch Red before she landed. Yellow jumped from a ledge above to snatch the Minecraft icon that was knocked out of Red’s hands. 

Despite receiving a skull missile to the face, Red was alive and kicking. She wasted no time in kicking Blue’s hold off of her and tearing after Yellow. Her expression was flat, yet her movements feral. She twitched and then lunged at Yellow, clasping at their leg. They fell to the ground with a thud and tossed the Minecraft icon further down the path.

“Oh, come on!” Purple lunged down and snatched the icon. Turning around, he saw the Wither gaining, and, in panic, he held the Minecraft icon. He visualized something stronger than obsidian, and, out from the icon, he blocked the attack with a wall of bedrock. 

He protected the group of wrestling stick figures from the impact, yet his action only earned Red’s attention. Locking her fixed expression on him, she let go of Yellow and charged at Purple.

“Ah! Green, catch!” Purple tossed it just as Red pounced on his back. “Get to the portal!”

Green caught it, and started running, using his fishing rod to move across the Nether’s gaps with ease. Red, no longer interested in Purple, raced after Green. She nearly closed the gap between them with her inhumane speed, only for her to be hit down by a skull volley from the Wither above.

“Red!” Yellow and Blue exclaimed, racing to her pick her up. Even injured critically, she continued to wrestle against them, eyes locked solely on Green and the Minecraft icon.

How is she not even down? Purple thought,  smacking the Wither’s volleys back as Blue and Yellow dithered.

“Come on! Leave her and get out of here!” Purple yelled.

“But-“

“No buts!” Purple turned and shoved the three over, pinning Red down to the ground. “To the portal now!”

It took a stern look and the Wither’s fast approach to cause the two to run off. Not like Purple could hold Red down long enough, as she shucked Purple off and raced after them. 

I can’t let her attack my village! He thought as he ran in pursuit. He lunged his sword at her, narrowly missing her back.

“Stop! Don't kill her!” Green shouted.

Of course that idiot waited by the portal! Stunned by his stupidity, Purple wasn’t ready for Red’s quick roundhouse kick to the hand. His enchanted sword clattered far away from him, and Red ran towards the stick figures just waiting by the portal.

“No! Stop!” Purple abandoned his sword, equally as stupid as Green. “Get in the portal! Hurry!”

So many things occurred at once- Red collided into her friends, knocking them into the portal frame; Purple bowled into her back, which shoved the group through it; and as they entered, the Wither hit the portal, closing it completely behind them.

The group fell sprawling on the desktop, gasping and grunting. Purple clutched his head, wincing at the sharp pain of hitting the ground. Before him, Green, Blue, and Yellow were slowly getting up. Green held the icon. It was shuddering in his hands, glowing a bright white before suddenly fading, as if the portal did something to it.

Red lay limp on the ground. Then suddenly she jerked and writhed. A translucent outline of a Steve player avatar leapt out of her repeatedly before finally falling to the ground. As it let out a dying breath, Purple caught sight of its dead, white eyes before it poofed away. 

Red was limp once more.The other three looked at her, expecting her to get up, but she remained still on the ground. They dropped the items they carried and crowded around her. Blue lifted her head up.

“Red? Red!” Blue jostled the stick figure.

“Come on, speak to us!” Green begged. Purple felt something form in his throat at the familiarity of his desperation.

“What’s happening to her health?” Yellow gasped as they held her hand. 

Indeed, all the hearts of Red’s health turned black and were ticking down. An effect called “withering” was applied on her.

It’s going to kill her! Purple realized and whistled loudly. The sound spooked the three grieving stick figures, but not as much as the sudden crowd of villagers appearing out of nearby houses did.

“Lord Purple? You’re back?”

“I need a bucket of milk, stat!” Purple hollered and clapped. “Don’t waste time! A stick’s dying here!”

And no time was wasted. The villagers were quick to mobilize and toss a milk bucket to Purple. He snatched it and quickly tossed it to Blue.

“Feed it to her!” Purple quickly exclaimed, “It’ll cure her ailment.”

Confusion gone, Blue brought the bucket to Red’s lips. Indeed, the milk stopped Red’s decaying heart meter just in the nick of time. With only half a heart left, the withering effect faded, and Red let out a shuddering cough.

“G-guys?” She croaked out.

“Red? Is it really you?” Yellow asked.

“Um, yeah,” Red looked around, dazed and then pained, “I’m so sorry for what I did…”

“Shh, no, no,” Blue hushed before pulling her into a hug. Green and Yellow also wrapped their arms around the two.

“I thought we’d lose you…” Green said, muffled.

Purple watched from the sidelines as the four hugged each other. He watched until his heart couldn’t bear the sight of it.

How lucky they are.

“You’ll have to share how you saved these folks,” a villager said as they stood next to him. 

“Yeah…” Purple couldn’t meet their eyes, “maybe later.”

He did a good deed, a brave one even! And yet he still felt horrid.

If only milk could cure a heartache too.

[didishawn]

Hiii Can I make a request? I love your stories, and I was wondering if you could do one with pedri. It would be smut, like you have a toy inside of you which he's controlling and you two are buying in a supermarket or in your parent's house or his parent's house. And he is teasing you, also if you can do that they will end up doing it.

Control over you (Pedri x Reader) smut

Warnings: use of vibrator in public, Pedri being a lovable bitch, smut, mentions of Pedri's injury, fucking on the car, lots of Spanish

Masterlist

You are starting to think that with his injury, your boyfriend is having too much time to think about dumb stuff to do.

That's at least the explanation you give yourself when he convinces you of going out with your brand new vibrator inside of you, neither you or him knowing exactly how to control it, but about to learn.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend learns way too fast and is now having the time of his life while on dinner with his parents.

"¿Estás bien, y/n?" his mother asks you, Rosy adores you and always has an eye out to check on you "Estás un poco roja, ¿no te estarás enfermando?" (are you ok, y/n? You are looking a bit red, are you coming down with something?)

To be honest, you are a bit out of your mind with the strong vibrations inside of you, Pedri being the little shit he is increasing the intensity as you are about to speak, making you bite down on your lip, then answer "Sisi, solo un poco acalorada" (yes yes, only a bit warm)

Everyone but Pedri gives you a strange look, yet none say anything, your boyfriend leans down next to your ear, his big hand resting on your thigh to tease you even more "Hace diez grados amor, te podrías haber buscado una excusa mejor" (it's ten degrees, love, you surely could have come up with a better excuse)

You glare at him, about to reprimand him when once more the intensity increases, making you bit back a moan once more, trembling a bit as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.

"No me digas que mi niña bonita ya se va a correr" he places a kiss on your cheek when no one is watching "¿Te vas a venir aquí delante de mis padres? ¿Vas a dejar que vean que no eres para nada como se piensan? Solo una puta deseando que la folle" (don't tell me my pretty girl is about to cum. Are you going to cum here in front of my parents? Gonna let them see you are nothing like they think you are? Just a whore begging me to fuck her)

There are low whines escaping your mouth as your whisper "Pepi, por favor, vayamonos a casa, no quiero correrme aquí, quiero hacerlo con tu polla dentro mio" (Pepi, please, let's go home, I don't want to cum here, I want to do it with my cock inside of me)

Your boyfriend thinks about it for a minute, still his thumb moving up and down on his phone screen to tease you with the levels of pleasure. He finally stands up, taking your hand into his as his parents and brother watch you "Mejor nos vamos a casa, que y/n en verdad se siente un poco enferma" (we better go home, y/n is feeling a bit sick)

Worry for you takes over everyone's faces, specially Pedri's mother who stands up to check on you.

"Nos vamos todos si queréis" she says, being in Barcelona everyone is staying back on your house. (we can all go if you want)

Pedri shakes his head "Que va que va, seguid con el plan, el cine y tal. Ya nos veremos luego" he hands his mother the money for everyone's dinner plus the movies and drags you out of the restaurant. (nono, you follow the plan, cinema and the rest. We will see each other later)

Pedri has one hand on the steering wheel, the other has his fingers thrusting roughly inside of you as you play with your clit. He tries his best to keep his eyes focused as you fuck yourself on the passenger seat.

There is no music on the car, only the sweet sounds of your unrestrained moans over the sound of Pedri's teasing.

"¿Disfrutas de mis dedos follandote, amor? Te vas a venir aquí con ellos dentro tuyo. Sigue tocandote, te pones tan puto apretada" (are you enjoying my fingers fucking you, love? You are going to cum here with them inside of you. Keep on touching yourself, you become so fucking tight)

You whine, high pitched "Pedri, por favor, te necesito dentro ya, no puedo aguantar más" (Pedri, please, I need you inside now, I can't handle this anymore)

"Joder, cariño, no me lo pones nada fácil" (dammit darling you make this so difficult)

He keeps on complaining, all while parking the car on the side of the road, on a point that no one passing by will be able to see you. He pushes his seat back, hasty hands unbuckling his belt as he indicates you to undress too "Venga bonita, dejame verte entera" (come on, pretty, let me see all of you)

As soon as you are undresses, he throws your clothes on the back as your hands lift up his sweatshirt, you too want to see him whole, almost salivating at the sight of his thick cock standing tall against his stomach, tip red and precum coming out from it, looking ready as ever to reach extasis.

Pedri doesn't waste time, picking you up by your waist and placing you above him, your hole lining up with his cock, then dropping you into him, taking him whole, you letting a loud moan out at the feeling of being so full, trembling as you grab into his shoulders, neither you or him waisting time to move your hips.

He grinds into you, his lips attached to your neck and going lower to your breasts he is so obsessed with. You look down, head dropping back at the sight of his entirety all inside of you, his cock stained with both of your juices.

"Joder, amor, no voy a aguantar mucho" (dammit, love, I won't last much)

You are pleading, big, glossy eyes looking up into his "Da igual, vente dentro mio, necesito sentirte completamente" (doesn't matter, cum inside me, I need to feel all of you)

The sounds coming from Pedri's mouth are animalistic, primitive, pleasure has completely taken over his foggy mind, he is in complete control, hard thrusts one after the other, he moves you up and down as if you don't weight anything.

One particularly hard thrust does it for you walls tightening around him and squirting everywhere, he lets out the hottest moan you have ever heard as he fills you up to the brim. His head drops to your shoulder, he doesn't move from your insides.

Suddenly, his phone dings, and with half a mind he picks it up, surprised when he sees the message coming from his brother.

¿Donde estáis? Que hemos venido a casa directamente y no habéis llegado

Where are you? That we have come directly home and you are not here

You turn red at the next next

Por cierto, dile a y/n que tiene que mejorar su actuación. Dais puto asco haciendo eso en la comida

Also, tell y/n she has to improve her acting. You two are fucking disgusting doing that while we eat

[neo404]

can you do dad!nick x male reader? i don't care what is it, anything will do!

Stay at home dad! Nick.

Summary: stay at home shenanigans of Nick.

Once your baby entered your lives, they made a 360 degree turn. Nick had to plan ahead for meetings and videos, which wasn’t that easy but was way easier than having a job where you aren’t your boss. So, the both of you decided that Nick would stay at home taking care of your baby while you work the 9 to 5 from Monday to Friday.

Nick is a good dad, a dad that did all the research on internet about how to take care of a baby before they arrived. A dad that made long facetimes with his mom with a notebook and pen besides him to annotate every single tip and trick she gave him. A dad that will call his brothers for help because he can’t find the control remote of the tv, give the baby a bath and cook dinner at the same time. A dad that watches the baby sleep on the couch worried that he might turn on his sleep. A dad that tries not to cry when looking at his baby for too long.

He is a good dad, and he is a great husband too. When you arrive home dinner is always on its way (most of the time is delivery, but at least it’s your favorite). He will greet you with a kiss on the lips, helping you take out your coat and putting it on the rag.

‘’How are you, honey?’’

‘’Exhausted!’’

‘’Really? Tell me about your day.’’

‘’You won’t believe it. Our little angel decided to wake up right after you left and…’’

Nick is the type of dad that holds back his tears when he sees you and your baby sleeping on the couch, one hand on the babies back while they lay on your chest, your shirt stained with her saliva. He instead takes a picture with his phone and sits besides you playing with your hair.

Nick is the type of dad who will go to talks for ‘new parents’ and be nervous to see the room full of mothers and their babies. Nick is the type of dad who talks to these moms proudly about his husband and his pretty girl.

Nick is the type of dad to buy lots of clothes for the baby. A lot of dresses, shirts, onesies, hats, socks. Every item of clothing the baby has it, she might have more clothes than bot of you. He loves the type of clothe with silly prints of them (like animals or dinosaurs, also loves the ones with Disney or Bluey characters).

He will try to deny it, but he loves the ‘best dad’ kind of gifts. It can be a shirt or a mug, this man will roll his eyes when he sees the gift and say its corny but he will use the item 24/7.

Nick loves to read stories to his baby, also loves to sing to her. Is very shy when he sees that you are leaning on the doorframe looking at them with a smile on your face.

Nick is the type of dad to be very protective of his baby, when she starts walking and being more curious, he will have at least 5 heart attacks per day. And don’t even get me started on going out to the park, Nick would be behind the baby at every moment making sure she doesn’t fall or trip.

Nick is the type of dad who has a folder filled with photos of his baby and husband on his phone, but also has an album of instant pictures on the living room.

‘’Yes?’’

‘’My handsome husband.’’

‘’What did you do?’’

‘’I can’t call you now that you assume I need something? How rude, more film, I need more film for the camera haha. I love you, I will cook your favorite tonight, thank you, bye.’’

Sigh

Nick is the type of that adopts a dog so the baby and the doggy can grow up together.

Nick loves the weekends because you don’t have to work, so the three of you snuggle on the couch while watching a movie. Or the three of you cook together, of clean the house together, or sleep together. Anything, the weekends are always time for the three of you, one baby on the hip and one loving husband on the other arm.

Also, Nick will beg you to have another kid when the baby is no longer baby and is a toddler. ‘’She needs a sibling; she will feel alone. Believe me, I don’t know what I will do without the stupid crazy bitches of my brothers.’’ And who can say no to his pout and pleading eyes? So, the adoption process of the next member of the family starts.

[lilapplesheadcannons]

r/AmITheAsshole: u/throwaway478wwx

AITA if I tell my "husband" I love him?

Throw away because my siblings and friends are here. Don't roll your eyes, please. It's very complicated. So I (34M) have been married to my incredible husband Z (34M) for the last 8 years. We went to the same high school but actually ran into different circles. Z, who was a straightA student, didn't like me and my friend circle. Things worsened after I accidentally ruined his science fair project. High school ended with bad blood between us. His older brother, who was a few years senior to us, was my sister's classmate, and he tried to mediate between us, but Z really hated me and would get huffy every time we met.

We met again in Uni. Z seemed more open to the idea of a civil relationship, and things improved tremendously once I gifted him 2 rabbits for his birthday. Z had the cutest crush on our classmate M and would get so flustered when I asked him about M.

In our final year, all of us got very drunk in a party, and I lost the drinking game. As a punishment, I was tasked with safely escorting Z back to our dorm. Just my luck, for such a calm and self-controlled person, Z is an agent of chaos when drunk. We broke into the nearby aquarium to look at the sting-rays, went into a Mcdonald where Z proceeded to buy all the chicken wings as a gift for me and tried to fight a mirror for 'staring at the love of his life'. I somehow managed to calm him down and took him back to the dorm.

Fast forward a year, M suddenly announced her relationship with someone else. I was extremely surprised, but not only Z stoically bore the news, the rest of my friends were very chill about it too. In fact, they seemed more annoyed at me for making a fuss. My angel of a sister, who never spoke a harsh word in her life, told me I was lucky I was so stinking cute.

I tried my best to support Z in this difficult time. We spent most of our free time together. In fact, I invited Z to my sister's wedding to cheer him up. Incidentally, we kinda discovered a big conspiracy to harm Z's brother and his boyfriend, and Z's family was very taken with me. His mom started to joke that she'll steal me to be her own son. Even Z's very stern uncle seemed to soften up.

Finally, M announced her wedding when we were 26. I hastily planned a trip as a means to distract Z. We backpacked and hiked. One night, we got roaring drunk and woke up the next day in bed with each other. Even worse, drunk us thought it was a good idea to apply for a marriage certificate online and make an announcement on Facebook that we were getting married. Our families were blowing up our phones. They asked us how could we do this? How could we exclude them from the happiest day of our life and not give them the chance to celebrate? Before our hungover brains could explain anything, Z's brother was dispatched to retrieve us, and our parents were looking at the wedding venue and cakes.

Our mothers combined are a force to reckon with. I tried to explain things, but mom said she thought she raised me better, and Z's otherwise very kind brother told me he'd feed me into a woodchipper if I backed out of the wedding.

Long story short, we got married that spring. We planned to let things settle a bit, but disaster struck. A friend of ours had a baby cousin whose parents suddenly passed away in an accident. The baby's nearest kin was his grandma, who was very frail and terminal, and my friend didn't have the means to support the baby. Z and I promptly applied to adopt the baby.

Our little radish is almost 9 this year. Z is not only a great dad, but he's an incredibly good husband, too. He's kind, warm, sweet, and patient. He's a wonderful cook. We are compatible in every way, and I mean every possible way. My parents love him. And I think I have fallen in love with him too. But would I be an asshole if I told him that I loved him? We have a good thing going on here. I don't want to rock the boat.

Update 1: Thank you so much for your kind words. I have decided to confess to my husband. Wish me luck.

Update 2: To the person who DMed me calling me "so dumb that light can enter through one ear and exit via another," JC, I know your writing style. Push your luck, and the whole of reddit will know what happened in our third year.

Update 3: So, I told Z that I loved him. He was reading our baby boy's half yearly report. Have I told you guys how handsome he looks with his glasses on? He raised his eyes and said, " And I love 'my name' too. Always have." So I guess that's settled? We have been in love for the last decade? That's good. Thank you for all your support. And I love you too, Jie.

[kamisatomay018]

My Saviour: Part 4

Warnings: mention of emotionally abusive parents, angst with comfort, fluff

Time to see protective Ayato! Finally lol. This part will be very lengthy!

It had been 2 months since the news of Kamisato Ayato courting Hiragi Y/N spread all across Inazuma. Everyone was beyond excited, and the excitement of their courtship hadn’t died down even now. After everything that occurred in Inazuma, a wedding of this magnitude was welcomed with open arms. These 2 months were perhaps the happiest days of your entire life. Ayato treated you like a princess, he observed every little thing about you, remembered your likes and dislikes and showered you with presents. He would come to visit you often in Ritou, for your parents didn’t allow you to leave the island. No matter, as long as he was with you, no one else in Teyvat was on your mind. Your bond had grown stronger, and you knew you were falling for him. He could make you smile so effortlessly, giving you cheeky compliments, trying out new and weird Dango milk flavours together and playing chess had become core memories with you. He came to visit you almost every day for the first month, but then his work kept him busy, due to which he couldn’t come to see you that often.

That does not mean he forgot about you though. No, you were always on his mind, invading his thoughts, taking over his dreams and his heart. He would send hand written letters and gifts to you in Ritou through the hands of his most trusted housekeeper, Thoma. Ayaka also came to visit you a lot, she was the happiest person in inazuma when you two agreed to get married. Her best friend and her brother getting married was the best thing that could ever happen.

However, not everything was okay in your life. While becoming Ayato’s fiancé made you the happiest woman ever, your parents had grown to dislike him even more. Why you ask? Because he made you happy. In their eyes, someone like you did not deserve to be happy after making their lives so miserable. They were forcing you into marriage thinking that you’d live the rest of your life subdued and controlled by a manipulative man, but to their dismay Ayato had saved you, and now they would see you smile way more than you ever had. The only reason why they kept quiet about their dislike for this marriage was due to the attention they were getting. Your parents were never really that important in your household, for your fathers older brother was the one leading the Kanjou Commission. But now, the announcement of your marriage to the Yashiro Commissioner had given your parents renewed importance. Besides, every single person in Inazuma knew better than to mess with the Yashiro Commissioner.

That did not stop them from making your life miserable though. Their behaviour was getting worse, their words were sharper than the blade of the strongest of swords. You payed no heed to them whenever you could help it, trying to focus on the happiness you had found.

It had been two weeks since you and Ayato had met, and today you saw Thoma again, with a gift in his hand. “Lady Hiragi! My lord wanted me to deliver this to you, and express his affection for you.” You smiled shyly, accepting the gift with gratitude. “Thank you Thoma, please thank him from my side, I will send him a letter today itself.” Thoma nodded, bidding you farewell as he headed back to Inazuma city.

You came back to your bedroom, opening the package and gasped seeing its contents. There lay a fine box of paints, each made from flowers all over Teyvat. There were over 20 vibrant colours, each packaged so intricately in embroidered glass bottles. You knew he must’ve spend a fortune in buying these, and once again you felt like the luckiest woman in Teyvat. You had told him about your love for art about a month ago, and you remember how enthralled he was, asking you all sorts of questions about the different types of painting techniques and art styles. It was that day you realised that Ayato was very fond of art, and his curiosity and willingness to learn about something you were so fond of made your heart warm. He truly had outdone himself by giving you this gift. You carefully closed the box of paints, deciding to keep it somewhere safe and hidden, but alas, fate had other plans.

Your parents barged into your room, making you gasp, your eyes widening with fear. You knew their hatred towards your love for painting, and if they found out what Ayato had gifted you, they would destroy it. Your father noticed the slight panic in your eyes, and his eyes went towards the box you were holding so close to yourself. “What are you holding huh?! Show me now!” “It’s nothing father, just a gift Lord Kamisato sent..” “Do you think I’m stupid girl? I said, hand me the box now!” You were helpless, but you tried to put up a brave front. This gift was too precious to be destroyed, and you were tired of your parent’s’ behaviour.

“Why father?” You saw the way his eyes turned dark with rage, and he stormed towards you, snatching the box from your hands despite your struggle. “How dare you question me in my own house you ungrateful girl?!” You saw as he opened the beautiful box, revealing delicate glass bottles filled with paints. “Paints in my house? After telling you countless times to quit this nonsense and behave like a proper lady? Have you no shame?!” You felt your heart drop, wanting to protect Ayato’s gift from your father, as you tried to go to him, only to be held back by your mother, who was furiously glaring at you. “How dare you have the audacity of disobeying your father!” She yelled, her grip on your wrists burning you. Before you could reply, you heard a loud crash, and right there and then, your heart broke with the same intensity. You looked back, seeing the once beautifully bottled paints on the floor, broken shards of glass all over your room. You let out a cry of agony, falling on the floor, trying to somehow salvage the disaster. “NO! Why…why…” you cried helplessly, as you somehow tried to collect the paint back, desperately trying to save the precious gift your fiancé had given to you with so much love. You hissed as the shards of glass pierced through your soft skin, your crimson blood now mixing with the paints on the floor.

While you were on the floor, weeping in agony, your mother marched towards your drawer, finding what she had suspected: the bunch of letters Ayato had been sending to you. Your head snapped in her direction when you heard the ripping of paper, and you felt your already broken heart get crushed under the weight of your mother’s heartless actions. “MOTHER! STOP, PLEASE!” But your pleas were unheard and ignored, as she tossed the torn pieces of paper into the fireplace. “Disobedient girls like you need to be taught a lesson” you heard the cold voice of your mother speak, as you were left on the floor, tears falling endlessly onto your cheeks. You looked at them, the very people who had given birth to you; who seemed so pleased seeing you broken and wounded. “WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO YOU BOTH? What did I do to deserve this!?” This seemed to anger your parents even more, as your mother gripped onto your hair, making you look at her and her husband. “You are no one to raise your pathetic voice at us! It is because of us that you are marrying that fool, and you do not deserve love! You have ruined our lives, your existence is a mistake! It would’ve been better if we had no child!”

Your father then added in a cold voice. “You are not stepping out of this house now. It’s time you learnt your place you ungrateful child.” And just like that, they left, locking you inside your room. You wept bitterly, as all the tears of pain and agony came crashing down on you. You felt pathetic, powerless and weak. You could not protect your happiness, you could not protect the love filled letter and gift that your fiancé had taken so much effort to prepare for you. You sat there, hands bleeding while your heart and soul wept bitterly. You missed Ayato so much, but now how were you going to reach him? You were trapped, locked like a prisoner. You did not know what was going to happen to you now.

Ayato paced back and forth in his study, a frown visible on his usually calm face. It had been 2 weeks since he sent you the paints, but he had not heard from you at all. No letter, no messengers, nothing. There was a strong feeling of dread and unease in his heart, as if something was terribly wrong. He needed to see you, he was afraid something had happened. although you never shared the details, he knew your parents were bad people, and he also knew they disliked him greatly. Had they harmed you in some manner in his absence? He had to stay in inazuma city due to continuous meetings with the almighty Shogun about removing the Sakoku decree as well as forming compensations to the people who were drastically affected by the vision hunt decree. She had changed into a gentle god, and all of inazuma was very grateful for that.

“Sir, we have a little intel.” He heard one of his shumatsubaan say, whom he had sent over to Ritou earlier this morning to check up on you somehow. “What is it?” “The Hiragi Estate is heavily guarded, especially the area near the back gardens where Lady Hiragi Y/N’s room is situated. They have also forbidden any visitors at the moment. Moreover, the people of Ritou have not seen or heard anything about her in over two weeks.” Ayato’s heard grew even more uneasy. It was as he had feared, something had happened to you. “You may go, thank you for your service.” The man bowed and left, as Ayato took a deep breath, feeling anger seeping into his chest. He was going to get you out of there today. If he found even a single scratch on your being, he would rain hell on your parents. He immediately left his home, heading straight towards Ritou.

Upon his arrival at the Hiragi estate, he saw the panic in the guards eyes. How could they deny the Yashiro Commissioner entry? Ayato payed them no heed, storming into the household, his eyes filled with rage as every single clue lead to only one conclusion, his love being harmed. As he walked into the living room, your mother’s eyes widened. How was that wretched Kamisato boy here? “L..lord Kamisato! What a pleasant surprise, what is the matter-“ “with all due respect Lady Hiragi, I am not here for pleasantries, I wish to meet my fiancé right now please.” Ayato’s ice cold tone cut her off, his eyes dark and threatening.

“Ah..well you see, Y/N is..resting! Perhaps you can meet her another day?” Ayato took a deep breath to somehow calm down as the urge to reach for his sword grew stronger than ever. Did these old fools think he was dumb? “Lady Hiragi. I wish to see Y/N. right. Now.” Hearing the commotion, your father rushed towards his wife, only to see their worst nightmare right inside their house. “Kamisato Ayato, what inappropriate behaviour is this, marching into someone’s home?” Ayato laughed at his words, but that laugh sent a chill down the couple’s spine. It was a cold and menacing laugh, one that made them feel weak in front of the Yashiro Commissioner.

“Do you both take me to be a fool? Did you really think that trapping my soon to be wife was a wise decision?” He stood up, his patience completely spent as he walked closer to your father, easily towering over the shorter man. Ayato’s voice was deep and unforgiving, his voice laced with venom. “If any of you try to stop me, I will tear down every single wall of this house until I see my love. And if I find a single scratch on her, not even the Almighty Shogun will be able to save you from my wrath.” With these words, ayato walked off, trying to locate your room.

You were sitting in a corner of your room, head buried between your arms. Your once glowing face was now dull and lifeless, the dark circles around your eyes evidently showing the countless nights you had not slept. You had not been able to step out of your house, the maids only gave you one meal a day. You missed Ayato so much, his beautiful lavender eyes, his deep voice, his honeyed words and the warmth of his embrace. You missed him so much, but you could not do anything, powerless before the wrath of your parents who had once again managed to break you. However, you frowned hearing loud and hurried footsteps approaching your room, as the door of your room opened. Your eyes widened seeing the person you were longing for in front of your eyes. “Ayato…”

To say that his heart broke was a cruel understatement. He felt his soul twist in agony, his blood boil in anger and his eyes tear up seeing your condition. You looked so weak, so frail, your dull and lifeless eyes surrounded with dark circles. Your room was a mess, and he noticed the shattered glass bottles of the paints he had gifted you near the corner you were sitting in. In the fireplace was the residue of burnt paper, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out what had happened. He rushed to you, immediately taking you in his arms. “Daarin…”

You broke down into sobs hearing his voice, clutching onto his blazer. Finally he was here, the warmth you longed for engulfed you like a bonfire on a snowy night. You held onto him like your life depended on it, crying uncontrollably. What you did not know was that tears had fallen down Ayato’s eyes too. He felt so horrible for leaving you alone in this hell, so horrible for being unable to protect you. Seeing you in such a state hurt him more than any blade ever had. Your cries were breaking his heart. Still, he held himself strong for you, gently caressing your hair, holding you so close. “Hush my love, I’m here with you..none of this is your fault, I’m so sorry for leaving you alone here..”

You shook your head, not wanting him to feel guilty for what had happened. You looked up into those lavender eyes you loved so much, your bottom lip trembling with guilt and remorse. “Ayato…I’m sorry…I couldn’t save your gift..father broke it…and mother burnt all your letters…I couldn’t do anything..forgive me for being so weak..” you ended up sobbing again, and Ayato engulfed you in his arms, kissing your forehead. “Shhh my love…you are not weak, none of this was your fault. I will gift you a hundred more of those paints, I will write a million more letters to you. What matters to me is you Daarin. You are the bravest woman I’ve ever seen..And now that im here, I promise you on my honour, I will not let you step a foot into this house again. Im going to get you out of here.”

You looked up at him, hesitant and unsure of how this would work, being afraid of the public gossip this action might invoke. As if reading your thoughts, Ayato wiped your tears away gently, his voice being gentle, but his words were full of anger. “I’m going to make them pay. They will spend the rest of their lives, wishing they had never dared to harm you. I will bring justice to you love, you have my word. No one harms my Family.”

[helpwerami]

Osomatsusan headcanons cause I’m bored

This is more on a take on them in a more psychological/meta pov on them.

Osomatsu

-He’s still irresponsible as the show states repetitively, but I think there’s a deep under layered of anger issues. Maybe feeling like he’s stuck being unemployed and can’t change his life, or feels like his feelings are put on the sidelines.

-oso secretly very stressed but hides it by playing it down. Being the oldest but not the most matured may be a result of him trying to get some control of himself or over small things.

-He acts sexist and pervs on girls on the regular. I like incorporating the old show to the new one, specifically we’re oso was a ballerina,and wore womens swimsuits. So I like to think he secretly wants to be more feminine and dress feminine, but fears the shame or backlash of his family. He Avoids and projects his wants and desires in a more “masculine” manner instead.

-The problem with him at the root of it all is that he doesn’t want to change. He’s comfortable, he’s unfamiliar to change. Therefore he sees change as a threat.

-Oso’s anger makes him go quiet and visibly irritated. Storming off out of the house for a few hours before coming right back.

-He’s an alcoholic,smokes,gambles,unemployed,lives with his parents guy. He doesn’t want to change.

Karamatsu

-The most confident in himself. His fashion is questionable ofc but it shows how willing he his to present himself. Albeit his made up persona of himself.

-Closeted. His brothers have made comments of his clothes looking gay and how he acts is gay as-well, but he can take that. He thinks if he actually comes out he thinks he’s giving more ammo for his brothers to put him down

-Kara is secretly the most matured. He uses his persona as a shield to deflect his brothers judgement. Later in more recent seasons you see him start to not use his persona less and less, and his brothers caught on it even,but when faced with the confrontation he gets aggravated and even intimidates his brothers when he gets mad.

-On a more positive note I would like to think he got his jacket from

-Kara’s more of a job hopper. Never keeping one and doing small gigs like street shows or helping Chibita with his business.

Choromatsu

-he tries to act better or more mature than he really is. Helps his mother with taxes and some small chores but he uses this to put himself on a higher horse in comparison to his brothers.

-wares a collared shirt under his hoodie kind of shit.

-he gets very defensive about very small things. Considered being more short tempered than the sophisticated role he tries to put up.

- he hides his love for anime and idols away from his brothers because he’s ashamed of himself for liking it. Although most already know because he buys copious amounts of merch and tickets for idol shows.

-though he does look after his brothers in a more keeping tabs sort of way than a mom would. Comment or would ask if they’d showered or brush their teeth that day then lecture them to do so. This does help some of them positively to keep somewhat of a schedule.

-I want to say he’d might want to work at a manga/anime shop or something, but I’d doubt it. he’d be too ashamed to work at one. He feels like degenerates or creeps work at manga stores. (Even though that’s verbatim what he is.) would maybe end up in a book/convince store ran by an old lady.

Ichimatsu

-he’s my favorite so take some of this with a grain of salt.

-he hides how he feels. His antisocial behavior and dislike of the general public is why he turned to cats.

-uses cats as a coping mechanism and hyper fixation. Shows some signs of being on the spectrum be he doesn’t want to know the diagnosis/ answer to what specifically he has. He feels like it’s searching for an excuse for the way he is. (Not in a ableist way but more in a learned helplessness way.)

-low hygiene. Either Smells like cat piss or just body odor. His depression not helping him at that, choro runs his mouth at him on the regular for this. But instead of picking up that he’s maybe depressed, he calls him lazy and gross for ‘sulking in his filth’.

- oso and ichi are more closer in a bond because of their similar nature. The only difference between them is that oso is more accepting and chill about his current state. While ichi is more pessimistic and hopeless in his. Giving each other nicknames to show there on good terms.

-gets small jobs at local restaurants. working at the back cleaning dishes and taking out the trash.

-looks after jyushi. Finding solace in his more cheerful enthusiastic nature to his pessimistic one.

Jyushimatsu

-autistic with adhd. dresses more for comfort than to present himself. Highly energetic with not much sense of social cues or sarcasm.

-he’s more of a good influence on the brothers by bringing them outside when he wants to go out, instead of being shut-ins. He helps them have more to do than gamble or drink.

-i like to think he’d have a long distance relationship with him and Homura. Like todo got him a Nokia so he wouldn’t break it and to call her now and then. It would give him some one positive to talk to and she’d have him to talk to.

-he likes to hang out with ichi on the regular. Help ichi get out of the house, and then go feed stray cats in ally’s.

-maybe he’d volunteer at daycare’s or babysit if he needed to work. Showing in some episodes that he’s good with kids.

Todomatsu

-The most put together. Has his job at a cafe in the city and usually has good luck when gambling on pachinko.

-Openly gay with his family. They weren’t too surprised and he wasn’t to scared about it either since he already dressed in more pink and flamboyant clothing,and having friends that are mostly girls.or fuck it he had friends period.

-The most social brother. He tried to bring some of his brothers to mixers but it didn’t end up too well. Either in their brothers getting them kicked out or in other times or his own exclusion.

-I feel like he could move out if he wanted he makes his own income to have a phone and can walk or take a bus to his job. Maybe own an apartment of some kind.

-this might also go hand in hand with the fact he’s scared to be alone. He’s never not been alone for so long that when he finally is, it scares him. It’s unfamiliar to him.

-in the episode were they all got tortured in hell we saw the demon read his dairy. It said he wanted to dress like a girl and be like a girl, then you see him almost cry from the embarrassment.

-I think he’s questioning in his gender,but is to scared to explore that part of himself yet.

I do feel like As much as they hate or irritate each other, a key reason they don’t move out minus the money or occupation, is that their all unconsciously codependent on each other. If they even wanted to move out, the thought/feeling of being alone is so out their comfort zone and unfamiliar they’d rather spend their lives with familiarity.

[ae-azile]

Chapter 2 of The Non-Newtonian Newborn was supposed to be solely Chay's POV, but with a likely 3rd and maybe 4th chapter (because I suck at one-shots), it will be multi-pov and switch back and forth between Kim's and Chay's perspective. I mean, I needed to have some of Kim's POV as he goes about the pros and cons of breastfeeding his baby with his newfound ability to lactate.

Can't believe I just wrote that.

Anyway, here's a preview for chapter 2! The link to chapter 1 is at the end of the post.

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“I don't know what I am supposed to…DO!” Khun says, his last word turning into a screech when he finds the right spot and causes more milk to come out. It isn't nearly enough, but it's something. Because other than this? Kim doesn't know what to do either.

Despite Khun's horror over the situation, Kim can't find any humor in it at all, not when the relief only lasts for ten minutes at most before his chest feels tight again.

“I need help again,” Kim says, sitting back up and making a grab for Khun’s hand. Khun yanks it back and lets out a sigh.

“Kim…I think you are going to need to make a decision here.”

What Kim needs is for his chest to not feel so tight.

“You may have to do something else to make them…stop hurting,” Khun says, gesturing at Kim’s torso, “While Dr. Saelim doesn't know why you are going through this…he did say you are getting minor impactions, likely due to not nursing your baby-”

“She's not mine.”

As Khun gives him a heartbroken, sympathetic look, Kim realizes that statement is officially false.

Kim glances over at where she is resting on the new baby lounger and feels a pang of guilt and frustration.

“What do you want to do?”

Kim looks back over to his brother, “About the fact milk is coming out of my nipples?”

“Well, you should probably decide if you want to nurse her, get a pump, or leave them alone and put up with the pressure and discomfort for a few weeks. That's what I read, that it could take a few weeks to dry up-”

“I can't deal with that,” Kim says, fighting the urge to pull at his hair, “And who says this will go away the same way it would for a woman? She isn't even that into the formula! She just sucks it down because she hasn't been given anything else!”

Khun sits there quietly before nodding his head, “Then what would you like to do? About the breast milk, about whether you actually want to be a parent-”

“Are you saying I should get rid of her?” Kim asks, then narrows his eyes, “Don't you remember me telling you about the times I have tried? She just pops back over to me when she misses me or is hungry! You witnessed it yourself!”

Khun breathes out, “I'm saying that none of this is fair to you. This wasn't your decision. So…I'm just telling you I will support you through this and with anything you need. If you need me to keep milking you, I suppose I will.”

Kim blinks, then scoots away from his brother, “Not anymore. Not when you word it like that.”

“...Then do you want to try and nurse until someone goes back out and buys you a pump?”

“I don't know!” Kim snaps, only for the baby to startle awake and let out a cry. The longer Kim stares at her, the more frustration, resentment, and overwhelming guilt he feels. Maybe she is some curse who is in full control of what she is doing. Maybe.

But in his heart, he really feels like she is just a baby.

Who can teleport.

“Oh, honey,” Khun murmurs when Kim’s shoulders start shaking, “Come here.”

As Kim cries into the crook of his brother’s arm, he realizes he hasn't let Khun hold and comfort him since Ma died. He has cried in front of him since - once when Khun was rescued from being kidnapped, but Khun was drugged up and out of it. The other time I had been when Kim was preparing to move out. He wanted Khun to move into his apartment with him. Kim had been convinced that Khun would get better if he was in a different environment, but Khun refused to leave and Kim refused to stay, so it was never going to work and-

“He's having a moment,” Kim hears Khun say gently, “I'm not sure how much your brother told you, but my baby brother is going through a lot right now.”

Shit.

“I heard,” Chay says, his voice sounding strained.

SHIT.

“Maybe come back later-”

“I’m fine,” Kim quickly says, sounding completely strangled as he sits back up, “I'm okay, you can stay if you want-”

Tankhun tilts his head in confusion, “Kim-”

“I'm fine, Khun,” Kim says pointedly, even though he really isn't. He just found out the infant who has been stalking him is his biological daughter, she was born from an glowing egg he broke on purpose, his chest hurts, and he now lactates.

But Chay is here.

Unless he is just here for Khun. In that case, Kim should go and try to self-express his nipples into the toilet-

“Do you want to take a walk?”

Who is he asking? What is he asking? Kim doesn’t understand.

“Kim?” Chay prompts, “Do you want to take a walk?”

Kim stares at him with wide eyes, “So you can talk to Khun privately?”

Chay stares right back, then shakes his head, “No. I am asking if you would like to walk with me so we can talk.”

“Oh,” Khun says, glancing between them. He looks a little confused, as if he didn't expect this.

Neither did Kim.

“Chay, that's really sweet of you,” Khun says encouragingly, “Kim, why don't you go? You two are close to the same age, and I think you could use a friend right now. I’ll…I’ll watch the baby.”

It's an offer that was given with much more excitement this morning but one Kim is still grateful for, especially when Kim takes into account whose responsibility she officially is.

She's his responsibility. She's his baby. Part of him wants to leave her and the compound, only to never come back. She would be in safe hands with Khun. After Ma died, Khun often felt like the closest thing to a parent Kim had, even after the kidnapping. Khun may be nervous about the teleportation thing, but he would love her and care for her. Kinn and Porsche would too.

And then there is Pa. Pa may try to take full control of her and utilize her powers.

Turn her into a weapon.

Regardless of what he feels now, he knows he can't let that happen.

So reluctantly, Kim stands up, pulls his shirt back on, walks over to the lounger, and looks down at her. Despite just recently being fussy over Kim raising his voice, she pauses at her task of gumming her fist and smiles around it.

He really needs to figure out how old she is supposed to be. From what little he's read, she is emoting way too young.

Then again, she also teleports and was born from an egg. Standard milestone ages may not apply.

“I will be back in a little bit,” Kim tells her, his voice sounding stiff, “I'm taking a walk with Chay.”

This information seems to delight her. She kicks her feet and lets out a happy sound before doing her best to lift her arm up and hold out her hand. Kim fights the urge to let her take a hold of his finger like he has before by shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Be good,” Kim tells her, then looks over at Khun.

“Can you feed her in thirty minutes or so if I'm not back?”

Khun nods, then seems slightly anxious, “...With the formula she is lukewarm about?”

Kim narrows his eyes at that, “Yes. Unless you know of a different brand you want to try.”

Khun tsks, “Why would I know the names of any baby formulas? You're acting as though I have looked into such things. Some people don't get magical shaman eggs from stalkers that result in a newborn with supernatural powers upon it being broken. I suppose I could adopt, but I have no one to go on such a journey with-”

“Arm?” Kim asks. Khun sharply turns his head in suspicion. As soon as his gaze becomes calculating, it reminds him too much of the old Khun, the one who had been raised to lead and intimidate. Luckily, they had Ma, who made sure Khun was nurturing and sweet as well.

But Kim doesn't want to stay long enough for Khun to fully enter that dormant side of himself.

“Bye,” Kim says, then quickly walks to the door. It's then he remembers that he's walking with Chay.

Maybe an intimidating Khun is more preferable.

To read chapter 1, click the link below:

[calaisreno]

Consequences

Prompt: Family

This is a small sequel to While You Were Dead . It might be a bit confusing if you haven't read that story, so here's a very brief summary: While Sherlock is dead, John, working a late shift at the A&E, meets a much younger Sherlock who has inadvertently time-travelled to 2012. They sort out a few things.

This story happens after Mycroft picks Sherlock up from the A&E.

...

Mycroft takes him home. 

“Little brother.” He’s given the speech many times, understands the futility. But he can’t not tell him what he needs to hear, even if he refuses to listen. “Mummy will be told. Last time I swore I would, and I always keep my promises.”

Sherlock doesn’t speak. He’s probably still coming down off whatever it was this time. He’ll read the doctor’s notes later. It’s not the what so much as how often. It’s becoming a habit that will eventually destroy his younger brother. 

He gives Sherlock a sidelong glance. No earphones, so he must have lost his device again. Mummy will buy him a new one; for some reason she always thinks that kindness is the best consequence. He accepts that it’s the lot of the older brother never to see the younger one held to the same standards. Parents are like that; the firstborn is raised by strict principles, never indulged. Not that Mycroft ever wanted indulgence. His own life is turning out well, thanks to self-discipline. Coddling doesn’t teach that.

But Sherlock is an amalgam of different traits: impetuous, withdrawn, needy, with a restless brilliance that is in some ways more impressive than Mycroft’s. He hates to think of such an extraordinary mind wasted on things like drugs. And caring. 

“You know what will happen now,” he says. 

Sherlock turns his head, focusing those pale eyes on Mycroft. He looks sleepy, almost confused. Presses his lips together, thinking. “I’d like to go to rehab.”

Mycroft maintains control of the car. “You would like to? Why?”

His eyes are closed now, his head leaning back against the headrest. “Maybe… things can be different.”

“It won’t be easy, brother mine.”

“I know. But it might be worth it.”

“You surprise me. What’s changed?”

He opens his eyes, turns to Mycroft, smiling. “Sentiment. Caring. You’re so fond of telling me those things don’t matter. But maybe they’re the things that matter most. I don’t believe I’ll ever be perfect, but I care enough to become better than I am.”

They ride in silence for some minutes. Mycroft pulls up in front of his building. “You’ll stay with me until I make arrangements.”

Sherlock nods, steps out onto the pavement. He looks tired, Mycroft thinks, but not as unhealthy as the last time he saw him. Something has changed.

Inside, he drinks the cup of tea that Mycroft makes him. Yawning, he begins pulling off his clothes, dropping them on the floor as he makes his way to the bath. 

Once he hears the water start, Mycroft opens the envelope with the discharge papers. 

Cocaine, obviously. Not an overdose; he brought himself to the A&E. Dehydration, skin pallor, nausea. No seizures, confusion or anxiety. Slight tachycardia, BP and temp normal. He was given fluids, the doctor noted, and observed for several hours. 

Doctor’s signature: John Watson, MD. Dated: 20 November 2012

He frowns at the date. A tired, overworked doctor might misdate a record, substituting a digit or turning two around. But to write a date that’s fifteen years in the future… 

He makes a note to himself. Contact Dr John Watson. Maybe it won’t be worth the time it takes to find him and question him, but Mycroft doesn’t like untidy details. 

On the other hand, Sherlock has agreed to rehab, a hopeful development. Perhaps he shouldn’t probe. Ordinary goldfish do make mistakes. 

Wearily, he rubs his eyes. Sherlock, wrapped in a blanket and nothing else, is stretching out on the sofa, preparing to sleep. He works himself into a comfortable position and gives a great sigh. “You worry too much,” he mumbles.

Mycroft stands and stretches. A long day, and tomorrow starts early. He’ll think about this later, when he’s more rested. He heads towards the bedroom, picking up Sherlock’s discarded clothing. Piling it on a chair, he studies the lump on the sofa that is his brother.

“Good night, Sherlock.”

There’s no reply, only deep breathing. 

@lisbeth-kk @meetinginsamarra @raina-at @bertytravelsfar @momma2boys @jrow @helloliriels @the-reading-lemon @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @elwinglyre @mydogwatson @thetimemoves @jobooksncoffee @lhrinchelsea @peanitbear @gregorovitchworld @7-percent

[localgardenweed]

Looking off into the sunset feeling my soul shatter as I think of my Hetalia KND AU

I think Sector G8/G9 (i cant decide) constantly bicker for some sort of control (Minus Feliciano he is fine just being there hes there for the fun) while the rest are trying to get to leader position for one reason or another. Arthur is FIGHTING to keep that Team Leader role

My idea with Alfred and Matt are that they’re like fightor pilots together, their gag is Alfred cant do shit and always fucks up but Matt always comes in to save the day while Alfred takes all the credit and Matt just has to suck it up and hold back his rage, everyone always forgets he’s there since he’s so quiet but occasionally they’ll notice him when they ran out of maple syrup for pancake day and he sighs and goes down the block to his place to grab a bottle cause his family gets the good shit and he just has to sit there and feel ignored the rest of the time untill they want timbits ot smth hand has to do it all over again. I wanna say they’re half brothers like same dad different moms too, explains why they dont live together and why one kid is violently American and the other Canadian. Or maybe twins and parents got divorced when they were like super young and got remarried and one lived in America and the other Canada. We may never know. Matts older though in both scenarios.

Kiku and Alfred always haul in videogame consoles, they frequently play Super Smash Bros together and like shit gets INTENSE IN THAT TREEHOUSE THERE WILL BE BLOOD, Alfred always loses and he never knows why but secretly Kiku always gives him the bad controller. He is secretly ruthless when it comes to shit like this. Kiku also likes training cadets at Arctic Base from time to time, he can be a little scary. On the flip side he likes to help Feliciano with his homework alongside Ludwig as they try to explain to him how to do long division as Feli just watches and spaces out again. They gave up and thought teaching him to cheat would be easier but no it was just as hard. Kiku likes to bring in ramune sodas and so many poppin cookings like i think its all the kids eat half the time HE ALWAYS BRINGS MORE THEY NEVER SEEM TO RUN OUT. He whips out a waffle one for Alfred for breakfast and watches him lick the cranberry sauce clean off the plastic. He also brings other cool candies cause its kinda one of his only flexes. That and also all the anime he brings, mostly dvd but they’re also only in Japanese so he’s mostly watching them all by himself cause like no one else knows it.

Yao is always off training by himself in his room, beating the shit out of his dummies and having to head down to the shop to buy new ones cause he always ends up wacking their heads and stuffing off. He eats a bunch of candy too to keep his energy up, it is a miracle his teeth haven’t rotted. He likes to go bother Ivan and try to get him to train with him but Ivan just sits in the corner playing with his toy trucks reenacting car crashes and stuff and Yao just says “….lol weirdo, im bringing over leftovers tomorrow for our dinner here at the tree house, do you want those little candies my grandma brought from home?” “Yes please” as he whisper screams acting as the drivers who got into the crash and die. Yao also is also the most athletic of the group, very flexible too.

As you can see Ivan is a little fucked up but he’s kinda just a loner. He feel he doesn’t fit in and Yao kinda hangs out with him but him and Alfred are surely a interesting duo. Arthur makes him work with Alfred sometimes on missions and they kinda cant stand each other but are they ever gonna say that? No. But he also weirdly likes Alfred like “wow he’s so cool…how does he have it so easy?” Thinking he’s the absolute shit when in reality the rest of the sector kinda cant stand him. He mostly just keeps to himself and does what he’s told, but ofc is absolutely fucking terrifying when provoked. But also kinda a little whiney bitch when he gets comfortable.

Francis and Arthur switch on and off to adult busting besties to “I HATE YOU EVEN MORE WHATEVA MAJOR LOSER” with the hand signals and everything. They train alot together and use their angry time as good training time. They fence and sword fight together and also tend to alot of chores around the treehouse. They weirdly respect eachother but also want to see eachother dead. Francis has a pony he keeps in its own stable in the treehouse, he pampers the shit outta it too. He takes it for walks around town and puts it in competitions and DOMINATES competition

Arthur has a whole ass battle ship. He begged Ludwig (2x4 Tech Officer) to build him one and they spent a couple months on it alone to make it perfect (aka Arthur kept adding shit to his list of wants and he went crazy trying to fit it all) but it got done eventually. He breaks for tea time and it’s RELIGIOUS he does not skip a beat to rush over for tea time. He really is a little British boy. I like to think though he does it so no one tries to steal his scones cause he goes out to buy the good ones. Everyone stopped stealing though when he started making copycat scones and they obviously sucked but he didn’t know that he thought his security measures were just so good!! (He put a single trip wire to make you fall forward. Thats it thats the trap) He also gets all his cool outfits commissioned by Taiwan (I dont have a human name for yet </3) who works at global command and makes all the super cool outfits for everyone. He has multiple jackets and like some of these outfits are OUT THERE he pays alot of candy for these things like some got whole ass gems and Egyptian cotton like okaaayyy

No one knows why Feliciano is still here, he doesn’t do shit and super dumb but like he brings good leftovers from his place so ig he can stay. He was a boy scout with Ludwig till he was like “Lets join KND” and he just said “Ok!”. He helps Ludwig the best he can by mostly just handing him shit but he makes himself useful somehow.

Ludwig is a absolute nerd, and also kinda a suck up like its actually so weird to think he’s in the KND cause he seems like super like “we must respect adults at all times!!” But no he has a fire in him, he cant stand them, he puts up with them but he cant stand em really. They did smth he can never forgive…anyway he’s always making new 2x4 tech for his sector and goes to alot of conventions. He’s kinda just a nerd like i said but he does et loose. He loves to play with trains and cars, has a whole model train set he made himself and also kinda a minecraft gamer. Ok so my timeline js weird cause idk if im making this in early 2000’s like the og show or in the modern day but ehhhhh whatever. Anyway when Kiku and Alfred are done playing Smash Bros and throwing hands he plops down to load up Minecraft, he loves to do redstone and also just play survival and ya know, tough it out. He plays with Feliciano but he sucks but he still lets him play. He actually plays alot with Francis but he likes more PVP and exploring than mining and building like Ludwig. Alfred also gets in on it but likes to troll so they usually kick him iut after he drops lava on Ludwigs cow pen.

Will i talk more about them? Yes ofc duh. Tune in next time for my awesome video essay on why this is my best au yet /j

[noncreativepage-blog]

For the ask game, 18 with any of of your choosing :3?

I actually wrote the back story for my OC in an earlier post, but I’ll just paste it here. (It is kinda long. Mostly because she is immortal)

My OC started her life as a normalish human. She grew up, went to college, and got a job as a pathology assistant. While preforming an autopsy, a terrorist attack happened three floors above where she was working. This resulted in a violent collapse of the floors above, and a massive fire. Directly after the explosion went off, my OC was stunned. Her first memory is looking up to see her mentor screaming, and on fire. In her shocked state, she grabs a fire blanket, wraps him up in it, and holds his remains. Everything burns around her.

Three days later, my OC is found by fire fighters without a single scratch on her. How and when she ends up contained by the SCP foundation is still in development, but I know she went with them willingly to help her understand how and why she survived when no one else did. The foundation kept her in a room without a clock or windows. Occasionally, she would be taken out for basic questioning or experiments. She was told that if she behaved she would get to see her parents and little brother in a year when she was released from containment. She naively believed this, and kept track of time based on when lights off and lights on occurred. She felt like both were becoming longer, but decided this was due to her lack of enrichments. Eventually, she was allowed to interact with other SCP’s labeled safe. These safe SCP’s were mostly humanoid. The one that sticks out most is a middle eastern boy who had the ability to turn inanimate objects into gold. While in his country, he would give random gold objects to poor families so that they could sell the items, and buy food. My OC and this boy hit it off, and over the course of a few weeks decide to breach containment to see the outside world again. 

Upon breaching containment, my OC finds out that her parents no longer live in the home she remembers. I am uncertain how, but she is able to find her parents grave only to realize that she has been alive for two hundred years, and the few people she was close to- the few people that she was behaving for- were long gone.  Out of the kindness of his heart, the middle eastern boy turns the engraving into gold, and basically tells her that everything will be okay, and he will be there for her. 

Then his head explodes when a bullet from an MTF soldier nails him in the brains. (This particular version of the SCP foundation is rather corrupt, so killing safe SCP’s that breach containment isn’t an issue. No need to worry about ethics when there is no ethics comity around.) At that moment, when my OC is looking up at the barrel of a gun with the MTF soldier mocking her, she breaks. Her soul is ripped into ten pieces; control, anxiety, comfort, anger, sorrow, love, logic, potential, trust, and creativity. (She eventually learns that she can split herself into these ten individual, but that is far into the future)

When she re-awakens at the foundation, she is labeled as a Euclid for reasons unknown to her. She does their tests, she helps with the experiments, but she feels empty inside. She tries to escape again and again and again so that she can look up at the stars, and know if she is real. Her constant escape attempts cause her to be re-labeled as a Keter. The scientists over Keter’s are brutal. She is stuck in an experiment room that they fill with fire, or water, or acid just to see what will neutralize her. However, each test creates a new adaptation. Her skin becomes more resilient, she no longer needs to breath in order to survive, and the acid cannot harm her. However, her torture and isolation change her. She becomes vengeful, she becomes hateful, she becomes the monster they made her. 

Eventually, she discovers that she can remove her eyes, and control them as if they were puppets on her strings. She sends her eyes through the foundation’s vents, through the water supply, and the sewer system to help her escape. She talks to the other Keter’s and asks them for their help in breaching containment. When the time comes, she and a group of four other keters (the deer God, the plague doctor, the king in red, and an unknown fourth) breech containment, and unlock all of the cells in cite 14. It is a slaughter house, but my OC only cares about seeing the sky again. 

Upon their escape, my OC sets off to free the other SCP’s, her SCP’s, her siblings. She frees them, but did not fully realize the consequences. There were billions of humans, then millions, then thousands, then hundreds, then ten, then none, and when there were none there were 9999 SCP’s then hundreds, then ten, then one as her siblings took their vengeance, and then turned upon each other. 

Her home world becomes an ocean of blood with land made out of bone. Nothing lives, nothing rots, nothing changes. She stays in this world, looking up at the sky entirely indifferent to the desolation around her until a portal opens before her. She steps in, only to find herself in another dimension with the same foundation re-imprisoning her for being an anomalous entity that they summoned from her home dimension. She is imprisoned, she is experimented on, and she gets her siblings to breach containment in this reality. Then another portal opens, and the cycle repeats again and again and again. On the 13th dimension, the foundation manages to contain her until the world is swallowed by the sun going super nova, and she is sent once more into another foundation in another dimension. 

The 14th dimension is a lot smarter than the prior ones. Her cell is airtight, and her body hangs across the walls like stringy vines and carpeted floors with eyes for tufts, and mouths for fun. She sits in her prison alone, and broken. Until, the child of a foundation scientist wanders into the keter hall. He hears her mumbling to herself through the walls, and asks for help on his homework. Thrown off by this request, she helps him through the wall of her cell. After a few weeks, the boy begins to enter her cell, and show her his progress. He does not fear the fleshy abomination, he does not fear her. As he grows he develops a love for art, and asks her to teach him how to draw. She unpeels herself from the walls and floor, and begins the process of becoming human again. She is broken, yet something has changed. Her shattered soul has shifted, and been re-made. When the boy is 13, he gets into a fight with his parents, and hides in my OC’s room. This draws attention to the fact that the boy has been in close contact with a dangerous keter and starts all kinds of drama. Fortunately, this version of the foundation does not believe in containment for all anomalies. They believe in teaching anomalous entities how to integrate themselves into society. They take her in as their pet project. (This does not mean that there aren’t tensions. The boy’s mother absolutely hates my OC, and my OC- knowing of this hate- does her best to cause chaos and rub the boys mom the wrong way. The boy��s dad is mostly just scared of her, but accepts that his son seems to be redeeming the flesh wall even if it is creepy that it/she can form a three dimensional person instead of poster thing sheet of sinew. 

As the boy gets older, he begins to draw an anime series with my OC as the hero. This inspires something within her. She begins to realize that she wants to be the person that the boy sees her as. By this point, she has forgotten a lot. She remembers violence, but she does not remember what it was like before her she broke. She has to learn empathy. 

Eventually, a new portal opens up. However, death does not precede its coming. The world is beautiful, the land is green, and the boy who helped her has died of old age after having many children and grandchildren that she has gotten to see. She still has ties to the 14th dimension, but she knows that she has learned all she can from this world. Thus, she steps to the portal to become the hero she wants to be, the hero the boy named her; Page Eliza Cypher

Through the portal Cypher sees the darkness of the void, and then everything. She sees the creation of the stars, and the planets, and the moons. She walks through space and sees the birth of gods, and then sees the creation of their children. She sees, catalogues, and writes down everything to remember this new dimension by, and when the 15th dimension collapses back into the void, she is there for the creation of the 16th dimension, and the 17th, and the 18th and so on. 

She is still traumatized, but she is learning to live, to cope, and to become better. For each step back, she takes a step forward. There are times when she curls up in the depths of the sea, there are times when she integrates into villages as the crazy old witch, and there are times when she becomes a big white furred dog that plays with children. She is healing which allows for a lot of opportunity to either heal or break her depending on the fandom I obsess with :)

When putting her in TWST, I believe she could go a few different ways. As stated in the previous paragraph, she tends to integrate herself depending on her mood. However, her moods can be easily overridden when she becomes attached. If a character is in desperate need of advice, but she is in animal form, she just starts talking. This tends to blow the mind of the person she is giving advice to, but it is a hilarious concept to me.

In general, I think she would get along really well with Lilia. I don’t think this would be intentional on either of their parts, but they are both survivors of wartime trauma. Thus, they kinda gravitate towards each other. Cypher gets easily attached, so the moment Lilia becomes her friend, Silver, Sebek, and Malleus immediately come under her care. However, my character knows when tough love needs to happen, so Malleus and Sebek will be guided through their respective issues. (Sebek: self hate red due to his human half which is really just fear from the fact that humans are so fragile. Malleus: his refusal to take action, and make his own friends. Instead relying on others to invite him everywhere.)

When it comes to Pomefiore, she is a mirror. Epel wants to scrounge in the mud, rough house, or generally do something Vil doesn’t approve of? She’s in. Granted, once they’re done she will make sure Epel follows the strict routine Vil has given him. Cyphers an advice kinda person, so she would definitely talk about his views on toxic masculinity. Cypher and Vil would have a complicated dynamic. On one hand, she admires his potential, and hard work. However, she doesn’t appreciate that he keeps passive aggressively requesting her shapeshifting skills for modeling. (Basically, “Oh! If only I had a model to fit into this outfit I created! What ever shall I do?”… It tends to work which is why she hates it.) Rook is a freak. She is a freak. They both have a tendency to spy on people. She usually gives Rook one of her eyes to take on his observational trips because she likes to see things. They are really good friends, but I can definitely see them becoming love interests due to their mutual love for the thrill of the hunt, and stalker like tendencies.

She would be awkward in Ignyhide. (I do love Idia, he is my second favorite of all time, but my oc would struggle.) She doesn’t tend to sit still, she doesn’t tend to sit through movies, but for some reason, she can watch Idia play a game for hours… as long as he doesn’t mind her constant questions about the lore, gameplay, etc. I think she would probably be the first to approach him. He has manga, she likes manga, so she goes to him. Idia is terrified of her. She has eyes everywhere. Sure, when she closes most of them she can pass as someone with binocular vision, but as soon as something draws her full attention, all of her eyes are open and hyper focused. She adores Ortho. In her mind, ‘he baby’, and fully supports his rights and wrongs. She knows he is mischievous, and always lets it slide.

Scarabia is a no go. She doesn’t do big parties, and that is all Kalim does. I think if Kalim really wanted to get to know her, they could do something low key, but that is only if Jamil will let them. Jamil is suspicious. Cypher is suspicious. She finds out about his and Kalim’s weird relationship, and hard moped out of there. That is a job for a professional therapist, not an experienced member of the reverse surgery club. She loves the Octotrio. The octotrio loves her. They let her do dishes in the back, and let her listen to audiobooks without disturbing her. She works for the monstro lounge, without being forced into a contract. She was absolutely furious one day, she marched right into the Monstro lounge, frame shaking, and spikes shifting in and out of her back. She went straight to Azul’s office, and asks if she can wash the dishes. Azul nearly inks himself because what the heck. Washing dishes is soothing for her, so she found the place with the highest number of dishes. (The cafeteria does not count as only the treys need to be washed, and the ghosts tend to do that right after lunch.) Azul, feeling nervous because what the heck could Jade and Floyd do about the literal shape shifting abomination, maintains his composure, and offers to let Cypher wash the dishes. He tells himself that this was advantageous for the lounge because she didn’t ask for any payment, and she is washing the dishes… he isn’t fooling anyone. Now, she just goes to the monstro lounge to wash dishes at the end of the day before wandering over to Diasomnia. (She doesn’t need sleep, so she can stay up all night without issue. Floyd adores her. She never runs away from his hugs. It has become a bit of a game for them. The first one to spit the other sprints full force towards the other for a hug. Floyd usually spots her first which is surprising with how many eyes she has. Jade loves her because she goes with him on hikes, and listens to him talk about mushrooms. Plus, she talks about the interesting plants she’s seen throughout her lifetime. Her favorite plants are carnivorous plants, so she is in good company with mushroom man. Plus, she can try all of his mushroom recipes without dying from the poisonous ones. Jade has made a bunch of interesting recipes that definitely won’t be used for nefarious purposes later.

She absolutely runs with Jack in wolf form. They can spend the entirety of PE goofing off, and Vargas whole heartedly supports it. She and Jack don’t tend to talk much, mostly showing affection in wolf form, but she does bring him cactus merch. Ruggie likes to try and steal stuff from her. It doesn’t work, and she usually one ups him by taking something of his, and giving it back immediately after. So far Ruggie has managed to loose his bandanna, Leona’s wallet, and his left sock while he was wearing it and while his foot was in his shoe. She looked at Leona, Leona looked at her, and they just nodded. That’s another one that needs professional therapy.

Riddle affectionately hates her. She memorized all of the rules which means she knows exactly how to break them without actually breaking them. Riddle has found out so many loop holes, and gotten into so many hour long arguments about semantics that it’s part of his daily schedule. Cypher loves having in depth conversations about what is and isn’t rule breaking. Ace is taking notes in the background, Duce is impressed, and Cater is taking as many photos as possible because at 10-20 foot women at Riddle’s tiny tea table is wild. Cypher gets along with Trey. For one thing, he willingly shows her how to bake things. For another, Cypher is absolutely willing to try crazy things. Oyster spice in tarts. Sure, let’s see if it works. If she gets invested, she will find a way to make it work. Substitute the salt in the crust for oyster sauce, make dozens of mini tarts with different portions of oyster sauce, and figure out which one is best… Trey unleashed a monster.

Funnily enough, I can totally see her being experiment crazy, but not nearly as much as Lilia. She introduces him to these things called side dishes, and shows him how to balance a meal for optimal health while tricking him into making things taste good. However, she will eat Lilia’s cooking, and offer advice. She can differentiate between all of the little things he has put into the food, and she will tell him what’s an interesting combination, and what isn’t. She takes most of Lilia’s recipes, and experiments with them. Like the oyster sauce tart, she has experimented with hundreds of food combos including roasted ham marinated in liquified twizzlers. She has tried to use soda in pizza. She has drank onion, and banana juice. She’s crazy, and Diasomnia is grateful to her black whole of a stomach because she is willing to try anything at least once, and refuses to let food go to waste.

Crowley is terrified of her… at first. However, it is hard to fear someone who runs up to you with shiny objects, and calls you crow father. Crowley doesn’t to own why she does this, she doesn’t know why she does this. However, I know that this is due to the fact that she became friends with SCP-049: the plague doctor in her original universe, and looked to him as a source of stability and reason. Thus, one crow is like another.

Crewel hates her. She blows stuff up for fun. She is just as bad, if not worse, than Rook when it comes to crazy experiments. Her reasoning is always something along the lines of, “I wanted to see what happens” “I was curious”, and- most confusing of all- “the pretty colors make my brain go burrr”

Train likes her. She likes learning history, and she writes decent enough papers. However, she likes to deconstruct things, and tends to pick a viewpoint as oppositional to tradition as possible. She doesn’t do this because her views are oppositional, she does this because she finds it interesting enough that if helps her do the work. Freon wasn’t even aware she had a hard time doing school work until this conversation.

Vargas loves her. He can go all out against her without harming her. He can send groups of students to go all out on her without harming her. Heck, he can send the whole class chasing into the woods after her, and they struggle to keep up. Vargas amuses her, nothing more, nothing less.

Her relationship with Sam is pretty neutral. She doesn’t tend to buy things unless she can’t make it herself, she can’t find it in the school library, or she’s getting a gift for someone that she can’t make or find herself. His friends in the other side however, that’s another story. Full blown gossip. You thought the pop music club spilled the tea? Honey, they spill the whole kettle. No one knows what they talk about, thy just know that Cypher and the friends talk. It’s a complete mystery, and the pop music club absolutely tries to get the tea.

[clockwork2018]

Lab Rats rant? in 2022? more likely than you think!

ok let's get started. also I apologize in advance I'll probably get carried away and start talking about Marcus a lot

why did the Lab Rats kids ever forgive Douglas

and before anyone comes at me I don't have an issue with Douglas but that man did some pretty fucked up things ESPECIALLY to his kids??

he experimented on them when they were literal babies and wanted to make them bionic soldiers and rent them to the highest bidder?? like i don't know about yall but if I ever heard my dad wanted to sell me as a kid i would get as far away as possible

he proceeds to fake his death and build an android to "befriend" and capture the lab rats so he could take control over them with the triton app and make them do whatever he wanted. also don't even get me started on Marcus oh my god.

he makes an android and then realizes "well shit he's not gonna last long with all these bionics in his body". he probably doesn't really care at first but then oops! turns out his android son has feelings! who would have seen that coming!!! and before anyone comes at me yes Marcus does have feelings like cmon. he could have easily fooled Leo if he wanted. in the ep "Concert In A Can" at the end he could have apologized to Leo and maybe he would have bought his lies after a while! but he didn't apologize! this guy went at Leo for NO REASON. he would have had an easier time fooling the others if he befriended Leo too but he didn't cause he's just a kid! he wanted some drama in his life and what's more dramatic than having an arch nemesis? also he's literally in drama club. come on now.

plus he mentions he has pizza nights with Douglas which would be kind of weird to have with an emotionless android just saying...

and you can say "oh he's programmed to fake emotions!" or whatever. no he isn't. or maybe he was but then learned to have real emotions from Douglas or whatever. the point is this boy has emotions!! just watch the episode in season 4 when he confronts Douglas and tell me he doesn't have emotions.

anyway back to Douglas he lies to Marcus about him DYING before 16 and even says he's gonna buy him a car at 16?? he didn't HAVE to lie if he was emotionless, why would a robot care? but Marcus does have emotions and the news would give him psychological torment and Douglas KNOWS that and that's why he lies. anddd I don't know about you but that's pretty fucked up!

he also just. allows Marcus to attempt to kill Leo. he doesn't say "hey maybe don't kill my brother's brand new kid" he just lets Marcus do his thing. and Marcus does his thing because Douglas is his only parental figure and Douglas is Fucked Up™

then he allows Marcus to kill Leo again!! and when his plan fails and the lab rats escape he leaves Marcus to die even if he knew to some degree he had emotions. so that's fun!!

anyway I have a love hate relationship with Douglas. I think he's a fun character and the episodes with him are great it's just that HOW IN THE HELL DID HE GET A REDEPMION ARC OH MY GOD. I'm not saying people can't learn from their mistakes and grow as a person but this guy tried to sell his own kids!! and kill Leo who's very much a kid!! I have no idea how or why the lab rats crew forgave him but it's probably cause it's just a Disney show for kids and I'm looking too much into it. but that's why it's fun!

at the end of the day as I said it's just a silly children's show from 2012 and I have way too many feelings about Marcus to not be biased lmao. this is all /lh and its totally fine if you disagree :) also it's like 3 am so if there are any mistakes no there aren't

[sheriflavored]

Haven’t been here in a while. I miss talking to the void. Here I am!

Wow.. the last time I posted anything I was 28?? I hardly remember who I was…what I was doing and what kind of things I was struggling through during that time.

But today, I wanted to remember the moments that happened to me despite an overall whirlwind of a day. Tet 2023, no bueno. But here are the things I was very grateful for and I’m just going to focus on those.

#1. This morning, I decided last minute to hang out with my parents and visit temple, my uncle’s spot and our store—the usual rounds for Tet. There are a lot of things I miss about being home now that we’ve moved to AK, and one of those is spending time with my aging parents. My mom’s never been one to be up to date with makeup but I know she enjoys the occasions when she has the opportunity to dress up and look her best. This year, I convinced her to let me do her makeup after I saw her do her typical routine — putting lipstick all over her face on top of some real pale (and old) face cream. I washed her face, moisturized it and did her makeup how I would do my own. She looked extra radiant today and I could tell she was giddy to spend the time with me but also to get a little time to really focus on herself. I’m going to take her to buy some things for herself tomorrow. She absolutely deserves it. I wish I had taken a photo of her today, but things really just got out of control today. This year, once she gets her brand new teeth, I’m going to try to organize a family photo session. The older I get, the more I really value these kinds of things.

#2. When we got to my parents’ store today, there was a homeless man hanging out right outside. Every shop was closed except for the tattoo shop and the one Asian take out spot and he was just hanging out - at a distance from all patrons - wishing them a happy new year as they came in and out. My parents prepared some money for him as they got out of the car and wished him a happy new year. He asked my mom something, to which my mom responded in a lighthearted joke which made the man chuckle. I can’t remember what was actually said but something that really stuck with me was how she just saw him as another human. A real, normal human. I watched as he continued his well wishes to other folks, and watched every single one of them frozen for brief moments and I could see their gears turning, deciding whether to even acknowledge this man, respond to him, or determine whether he was just giving them well wishes in exchange for money. And honestly, this was a great reminder for me to remember to be kind to people, just like mom.

#3. I’m grateful every day for the friends I’ve kept close throughout the years. Linda came and dropped off some lobster and crab for my family, knowing that we had a hard day today. I almost cried eating my first bite of lobster. I do miss having great quality friends I can see every couple of weeks.

#4. I miss home. And for the first time, home isn’t only my parents’ house anymore. Home is where my heart is, and that’s my family. While my parents and brother will always be my origin home, my home now is in Alaska with Dean and the boys. I believe I really belong there, with them and I’m honestly a bit homesick. I miss our walks with the dogs, panoramic views down the block of the entire Chugach mountains. I miss prepping to brace the cold and even painfully waiting for the windshield to thaw. I miss our routine and non-routines, and just being on the same couch barely interacting but feeling whole. For the first time, I feel like I truly belong somewhere.

[ted22sworld]

Pieces of parents

The existence of a child is so mysterious. It makes people together laugh, makes them happy, makes them have a hard time, and makes them cry. What is clear is that children whirlwind our emotions just by being. Then what will happen if the existence of child disappears? The movie that responds to this is ‘Pieces of a woman’. The director who Kornél Mundruczó is a Hungarian film and theatre director unraveled his experience into a film.

The directing of the early stage of giving birth at home is so realistic. The labor pain of a woman who is about to give birth passes through my body. The urgent situation about the baby's health is conveyed as it is. I've been watching the birth of two babies, but it was quite different from the experience of moving according to the instructions in the hospital's controlled situation.

The atmosphere of the film becomes heavy after 30 minutes of running time goes by. Martha (Vanessa Kirby) doesn't show her feelings, but I can feel the pain because of the words and gazes of the people around her.

The eyes of people looking at her have changed at work. A careless mom's friend holds her for 20 minutes in the market and gives her useless advice. Her mother pours out what she overcame the crisis when she was an infant, and forces her to the same. A lot of people just say that if you sue for it, you can get a huge amount of money.

Other people's words and behaviors don't help her. She wants to let the baby go as she thinks. Ask if she can give her baby's organ to someone else, and donate the body for medical use. She testified in court that the midwife also wanted the baby to be born healthy and acted that way. In the process, Martha overcomes the grief of losing her baby on her own.

But there is something that Martha hasn't recovered. It's the relationship with her husband Sean (Shia LaBeouf). They collide and eventually break up. Sean is also a parent who lost a baby. Martha had someone to share her feelings with her mom, sister, etc., but Sean couldn’t. When he sobbed in front of the closed room door, "I miss my baby too”, I could feel that he needed someone, too.

Unfortunately Sean only resolved the loss in an unfaithful way. He would have been left alone, being asked by his mother-in-law to leave. How will he live after returning to his hometown? His life, which was not expressed in the movie, was probably the same as 'Lee(Casey Affleck)' who a major character the movie <Manchester by the Sea>.

After losing his two daughters by a fire accident, Lee is separated from his wife and drifts without finding the meaning of life. He fought who he had met at a bar, and didn’t feel emotions even when other woman are interested in him. That's understandable his unexpected behaviors why the responsibility of death of his kids by his fault. He went out to buy beer and put more firewood in the fireplace and didn't set up the safety net, so the fire healed.

While being investigated by the police officer for the accident, he was told, “It was a mistake, so you won’t be punished,” and Lee took the police’s gun and pointed it at his own head. He failed to punish himself, but after the incident, pain and guilty came to dominate his life.

Lee wouldn't have been alive if it hadn't been for someone by his side. The older brother, the only blood relative, gives the younger brother a last gift and leaves. He appointed Lee as his son's guardian. At first, Lee tried to leave his nephew but he could not bury his brother's body by the ground frozen, he have made a relationship with his nephew. In the meantime, he gradually recovers his daily life.

I wish Sean met someone like that person back home. I hope to have a new relationship with someone who listens to him, agrees with him, sympathizes with him, and sometimes delivers words of comfort. I believe in the power of the saying, ‘If you have even one person by your side, you will have a reason to live’.

I try to be that kind of person to the people I meet. Because of the nature of my job as a teacher, I meet hundreds of new people every year. I judge what kind of existence I should be to students by looking at their surroundings. Check the student’s situation if the parents listen to the child and if there are friends to talk to. If the child is left alone, I will be on his side.

The completion of this film is possible when it fully captures the feelings of parents who have lost their child. In that sense, I hope the title of the film will be changed like this. ‘Pieces of Parents’

[necessaryvent]

Unpopular opinion rant.

I have been scrolling twitter and finding some comments that are really beginning to piss me off. I'm sure I'm taking them too personally but I do resent the generalisations.

I have seen people completely shit on any kind of residential rental property landlord. Just a blanket hate on everyone who owns an investment property. Apparently we are all scum who want to profit off others. We are all heartless and rich AF and it's only because of generational wealth that we can afford to have more than one property.

I'm calling bullshit. But (as chicken as it sounds) I don't feel safe to do so publicly.

I am not right wing. Nothing my (kind of ex) husband and I have had together has come from generational wealth. Nothing either of us has rented out has turned any profit but rather covered costs (barely if at all - I'll get to that). My in-laws might have given a small (and I mean small) handout to my husband when he bought his first house for like $125000 or something ridiculously cheap like that in the early 2000s (keep in mind we are millennials and not boomers). They probably gave $5000 or something as a gift, which I am not saying doesn't help but it hardly makes him a rich brat who didn't have to do the bulk of the work. And honestly his parents were so tight fisted and controlling with money all his childhood (long story) that it actually caused trauma. And I mean actual trauma. Not a brat crying about not getting spoiled 'trauma'. I mean, actual genuine fear and anxiety about spending money, causing him to become controlling, angry and financially abusive (where did he learn it from huh) for a time. That's a bit of a side issue but this is my rant so too bad.

I am not in any way trying to make out that we didn't grow up with privileges. I am just saying that if you do have some privilege (ie your parents owned your home growing up and you never went hungry) you should appreciate it and not cry poor like his parents did. I could say they were the real jerks because having a property portfolio of like 6 houses was more important to them than giving their kids a childhood (they'd cry poor because they were too focused on their own retirements and not on living in the moments with their kids) but even then they were never unfair landlords and did a lot of work on their houses themselves.

Not all of us ask for unfair rent. Not all of us are heartless monsters who don't care about people having places to live. Tenants aren't angels either.

Last year we were finally ready to buy a property we could love. Something we envisioned to be our forever home (that's a long story - read back on this journal). We did not choose wisely (the new house was a wise choice - I mean what we chose to do with the other house was not wise) but we had good intentions in trialling our first property as an investment. We couldn't really cover costs just with rent (not even close) but we wondered if we could cover the mortgage and landlord insurance, and the bank (plus the maths) said we could survive with 2 properties in our names, if maybe it was worth it to give someone a home and to pay off the mortgage long enough that the house would give us something back (maybe property prices would rise - there had been a slump in our local area for a while). We were aware of the rental crisis and were adamant that we did not want to charge so much rent that it was unreasonable.

We had tenants that stayed for a year. Turned out we knew them as friends of friends and I recalled the husband as having been in my grade 3 class. He went to the same high school as my brother but we never knew each other closely. It's just where we live there are only ever a couple of degrees of separation and they were chosen by the real estate company.

These tenants wanted the perks of being home owners without any of the responsibility of owning a house. I don't know everything about them but I am fairly confident that they could actually own if they wanted to. He had a stable mining job and they were able to afford rent that cost more than what we'd paid for the original mortgage. But they treated the house like crap and got away with it because they were buddies with the property manager. He (the tenant) had a complex that my therapist calls "tom cat" syndrome. He wanted to make it his own but at our expense. He had laid out all these conditions when they moved in - wanting to install this and that and was very quick to point out the slightest imperfections (let me point out that we had made sure the house was really nice and in good condition when we moved out - we slaved away at it - keep in mind it was fit for us to live in for many years).

Meanwhile, I was trying to make a home during the pandemic in our new place and couldn't afford to. I didn't want to recreate my husband's childhood for our kids (putting investment properties above my kids' experiences in life) but we had overextended, despite the maths working, and the rent was not covering all the extra expenses - water service bills, rates, real estate fees, repairing or replacing of things that inexplicably give up after years of being reliable (like a jinx because you moved out). We didn't get any actual rent in our bank account for months - the costs to set up a rental property through an agency are substantial. It was rough. It wasn't the lifestyle we wanted. I couldn't afford to host anyone at our lovely new place. I couldn't afford many clothes (and no I'm not talking designer or brand names) or basic restorative self care (again I know my privilege and it's something that in the ideal world everyone deserves - especially burnt out stay and home parents). I couldn't do small luxuries at all. Couldn't buy tickets to events. Couldn't meet friends for lunch. Couldn't afford activities for the kids. Again, not a sob story. Just a reminder that we are human too.

I felt like we'd made a mistake. I had emotional baggage with that house and I felt like now it was affecting my new chapter of life, which was the opposite of what we were trying to achieve. But despite our rights as landlords (as opposed to what's right), we didn't turf our tenants out early so we could sell when the season was right etc. We stuck it out. Because I didn't want to make them homeless or muck their family around. I knew how hard it is to move houses. I knew they had 4 children (too many for the home to be honest). I also admittedly didn't want his circle of family and friends in this small world we live in to think poorly of us.

We waited the entire year's lease that they'd signed before selling. They would need to look for another place to live while the house was on the market and the real estate company helped set up a month to month arrangement with the rent until they found somewhere or we sold.

Like I said, it's been a pandemic. Circumstances change. A lot of landlords are like us - we had the best of intentions. Everyone took hits in some way or other in their lives. Obviously some worse than others. My husband and I separated! We had always planned to sell the house but now it took on extra meaning because that would become a very important nest egg for me - a person who had been a SAHM for a decade and made a lot of sacrifices.

During the time the house was on the market, the tenants deliberately left crap around. They refused to allow home open times that were helpful in selling. The selling agent had to hide dirty underwear that had been left around and wash dishes before potential buyers turned up. They were basically sabotaging us. Acting annoyed and entitled about having to move. I cannot stress enough that this was NOT THEIR HOUSE. It's not that we didn't have empathy. But it's the reality of the situation. We couldn't sell until they were out of the house months later. I am sure they had anxiety about finding somewhere new in this market and that's why we were patient. But the arrogance of the guy (the tenant) was astounding. All of their rental inspections were of a messy house (the real estate did not have our backs - they should be an unbiased middle person and we were the ones paying them to manage the property - not the tenants). There was a plumbing issue (with a literal $6 fix) that they had allowed to get out of hand without telling us (they had nothing to lose as it would be our responsibility to fix it - they probably just didn't want us to see how they lived or thought it was an F U to us for selling). They were being jerks.

They didn't totally trash the place or anything hideous. But a lot of tenants are a bit careless or go rogue with weird choices. That adds to expenses a landlord has to cover (sure there's a bond but some things just aren't covered). Expenses you don't have to wear if you're a tenant.

The landlords are not always bad guys. We could have sold the house quicker if we'd kicked them out and made them homeless (as was our right) on a date of our choosing (their lease was up). As a result we fell behind financially during that time.

It turns out the new buyer wants to use it as an investment property. They are from a state where the cost of living and property prices are astronomical. They obviously want to get in on the lower prices here. After learning some things about the realtors that have facilitated the sale from interstate, I have no doubt they are trying to exploit the market here (and therefore tenants). They will charge much more for rent. They already helped investors buy the house next door to it from interstate and I almost fainted when I saw what they were advertising for rent compared to us. It seemed wrong to be honest and I don't agree with this. BUT...in saying that, it was probably calculated in a cold business like way to cover expenses. And a majority of landlords just want to cover expenses if there's still a mortgage. And we had to sell. It's not our business who we sell to and I feel bad but I can't afford to take a stand for moral reasons. Maybe we should be penalising these people instead.

We need to look at what's wrong with the system. The private rental industry is not going to solve the bigger problems with housing affordability. Because a lot of us who own investment properties are just trying to make ends meet and hopefully (bare minimum) pay off a mortgage. We are renting to people who could have been our friends - our peers. We care. We are all suffering with inflation and bad decisions or circumstances that have had nothing to do with us. Not all of us are Liberal party (the conservative party despite the misleading name) profiteering politicians or big time CEOs. Or rich people's kids who never worked for their wealth.

Not all of us are boomers. Some of us were very young adults who worked hard from very young to secure property for our futures when we probably should or could have been travelling or doing other things. To do that means ticking all of the banks' boxes to be eligible for a loan. That takes sacrifice. And again there is privilege involved. I am not at all suggesting that I think anyone/everyone can do it. This world is far from fair.

I guess my point of it all is that not every landlord has bad/selfish/heartless intentions and I am sick of us being shat on in social media rants like we're all one and the same. Some of us are really trying to help and to just get by ourselves. We aren't all trying to trample on others to get a leg up. We aren't all millionaires out of touch with the common person. Some of us are a version of that common person who for some reason or another has an opportunity to invest. To add another house to a struggling market.

It is illogical to claim all landlords are evil if they are the ones providing you with a house to live in. If there were no landlords (ie no more evil people with investment properties which apparently is all of us) then where the fuck would you live? That's the bigger question. Maybe that's the point. Maybe we aren't the answer and more has to be done to provide housing that is affordable across the board. If we had continued to own the house and keep renting it out we would have been crippled. Surely that's not fair either. With the cost of living rising (while our wages do not), we would have been forced to sell anyway. So it was really unfair of our tenants to be jerks. And you could say, "oh but your choices led to you not making the wisest investment" but I could say to a lot of renters (but definitely not all) that their life choices trapped them in being slaves to the rental market. I guarantee our tenants could have afforded to buy the house from us and never move again. But for whatever reason they had made life choices that stopped them from doing so (keep in mind I know the family of the husband and some background knowledge - he had all the capabilities and opportunities but had evidently made other choices in life).

Again I don't want my words twisted. I'm saying that for every shitty rich and unethical landlord out there, there are so many more who genuinely mean well for everyone involved. And for every entitled, jerk faced tenant there are many more forced into the market through circumstances that are definitely not a choice.

Let's stop making generalisations and actually try to solve problems we are capable of solving. If nothing is stopping you from buying, then buy instead of whining about being a slave to 'the man' (because what you are making in this specific situation is a CHOICE). Where we live, chances are your mortgage would cost far less than your rent. If you are an investor who can afford it, freeze your rent. The problem is far from solved but we have to take personal responsibility before being jerks and pitting people against each other. We had to sell and while we showed compassion to our tenants they showed none to us because they bought into the stereotypes and that wasn't fair either. I don't ever want to be a landlord again. I just want to focus on enriching my own life from now on. And maybe that's the problem. Maybe the not evil landlords are getting out of the market because our hearts and wallets can't take it. I feel forced to make a selfish choice because I can't be a villain, according to everyone, anymore.