#no I mean I played games for children nobody even heared of here I think

[restinslices]

I really liked your post for LKBS parents. Can I request more HC about them as parents?My main idea was what they would be like with a girl or boy who tends to behave quite badly, but you can do it however you want if you decide to answer this :3Thanks in advance. Your blog is very entertaining :D

Here you go bookie. Also I broke a thumb nail and my typing is so off now😔

May the Elder Gods give him strength-

Bi-Han has such low patience and a kid that acts bad would drive him insane 

Especially if this child is the first born and therefore has to be the next Grandmaster? Oh boy 

Imma be real with y'all, I can see him whooping his kids-

Y'all know how people debate on whether or not whooping your kids is okay? I think he's on the pro whooping side. Not ABUSE tho. There's a line there 

“give me my belt” type shit. Very much a black mother-

If his kid wanna act up, then he's making life terrible 

He's pulling all the stops. They ass ain't going NOWHERE. 

Oh they wanna sneak out? Aight. He's boarding up the window. He's boarding up the front door. He might even take their own door off 

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes 

He's already a strict dad, so acting out will really get him heated 

Kids are assholes but I think there's a difference between regular kid shit and making life way more difficult than it has to be 

The type of parent to make his child sit next to him for the whole day. He's not playing with them 

He's escorting them to school and escorting them back home 

They legit have no freedom until they're over this phase 

And cursing at him? Absolutely not. 

This man does not argue with children at all. The going back and forth shit ain't happening. If you wanna act like a toddler that needs to be watched, then he'll treat you as such 

“I don't wanna be out here anymore” the teenager next to him sulked with their arms crossed and their mouth in a deep frown. Wrinkles spread from their frown and their pulled down eyebrows. How they hadn't gotten a headache yet, he was unsure of. 

Bi-Han ignored them, so they repeated themselves louder. “I don't wanna be out here anymore! Did you hear me?!”. 

Bi-Han didn't spare a glance at them. He turned a page in his book and said in a dangerously calm voice, “control your emotions before I let mine loose. What you want is irrelevant now. If you don't want to sit, then stand”. The teenager huffed and slouched more in the seat. 

“Is there something you'd like to say?” he said in response to them mumbling something under their breath. They knew better than to repeat themselves, and stayed silent. 

Not dealing with that shit at all 

Do I think he has more patience than Bi-Han? Yes 

Does that mean he'll deal with disrespect? Absolutely not 

It's not even the rebellious acts that bother him. He knows teens will be teens. It's the disrespecting him that pisses him off 

He's also not going back and forth with nobody 

Arguing isn't happening. At some point he's just finna start handing out groundings 

Since they have so much energy when they're doing all that extra shit, he has them train more 

Keeps them incredibly busy so they're too tired to do anything stupid 

Not entirely foolproof but it works 99% of the time

Has no problem taking away their door if they're always up to bullshit 

Lowkey I can see any of them pulling up to the school if his kid is acting up there too 

Will forbid them from seeing any of their bad acting friends 

He cannot wait until this phase is over. He is EXHAUSTED 

The teenager collided with the hard ground under them and winced. Their breath was knocked out their lungs and they glared at the older man that knocked their feet from under them. 

“Again” Kuai Liang said sternly and stepped back. The teenager stayed on the ground and crossed their arms over their chest in defiance. 

“So I can get knocked down again? No thanks! And you can't make me!”. Kuai Liang rolled his eyes. He put his hands on his hips and looked down at the teenager, that acted more like a toddler with each passing day. 

“You're right. I can't. Well if you won't do this, then I won't give you any of your privileges back-”

“Wait-!”

“No no” the older man walked towards their house with the teenager quickly jumping to their feet to catch up with him. “You can tell me all about what I can't make you do over dinner”

Exhausted 

He just wants to live life without hearing bullshit in his ears 

Tries to figure out what the problem is but when he finds out they're just being a brat to be a brat, he's at a loss for words 

He assumes that maybe he said or did something and the acting out was a result of that 

He didn't know they're just in an asshole phase 

He has hope that this phase will end soon, so he doesn't react immediately 

Once the week is up he's like “they're still going? Damn. Now I gotta be strict”

In one of the dialogues he said his mom was no nonsense and tough as nails so I can see him trying to embody her spirit and do what she would do 

It probably surprised his kid that he starts actually being strict with them and raising his voice

He's the most chill parent out the 3 so the strictness is a switch up they weren't expecting 

Groundings getting handed out like coupons 

They're losing any privileges they have 

He doesn't enjoy making life miserable for them but he can't NOT parent them 

Hoping the phase ends soon 

“What?!” The teen exclaimed. “You can't ground me!”. 

“Why not?”. The teen had no answer. They just stammered nonsensical sentences that Tomas didn't care to hear. He kept trying to be patient with them, but everyone has a limit, and he had reached his. 

“I keep trying to hear you out but you don't wanna talk-”

“We can talk now!”

“You're right! We can talk after you hand over all your electronics and anything else you've been hiding in your room! Now!”. 

By the end of the day Tomas cleared their room of anything that resembled fun. Needless to say, his kid was far from pleased. It was fine though. They'd look back on this time soon enough and be embarrassed by their actions. 

Or so he hoped. 

[r3v0lver-0c3lot]

17 and 25 for ask game let's go

mgs ahh answers💀💀💀

anyway

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

Boss and tiny ocelot!!!!! And in general just boss and ocelot and sorrow family hangouts (not just where ocelot is small, it'll be cool if they spent time together in snake eater). i've seen some of these and they really remind me of my childhood and because ocelot and boss are russian it'll be cool if there was some fic or art about ocelot's (non-existent) childhood (but this is an au so it doesn't matter that it contradicts the canon idgaf) like how he went to school (bc i love memes about slavic school some funny shit is bound to happen there) and how during summer he went to the countryside w/ his family and they lived in a small cottage house (dacha, if you will) and they cooked pirozhki and borsch and whatever. i do love my country's culture (NOT THE POLITICS OBV AND ALL THAT CONSERVATIVE SHIT HELL NAW) and i LOVE the boss and ocelot's dynamic (also the boss reminds me of my mom) so seeing them in this kind of familial childhood settimg really resonates with me. i also HATE HATE HATE LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I HATE when russian aus are being reduced to adidas vodka drugs smoking depression gopnik internal homophobia type shit like stop making every character act like a drug addict alochoholic swine with no manners and or morals. so i think those type of aus where its russian summer and swimming in the river and playing in the field outside of the big cities or going to school and doing some whacky shit are much better to me at least. not just because they kick me in the ribs and bash my bones with nostalgia and bitter happiness of the time i never am going to come back to, but also because it doesn't transform my favourite characters into some carricature pieces of shit and actually shows a good side of my culture. ALSO. more ocelot speaking russian. i've seen fanart where he's a kid and he walks round with the boss and they see a cat and he point at it and says "Кошка!" (wich means cat!) and i legit cried bro not even joking give me stuff like this again

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

i am going to jeff the kill anyone who says oH rIsInG iSnT cAnOn It RuInEd RaIdEnS cHaRaCtEr WOMP WOMP YOU FUCKING CUNT🖕🖕🖕 oh really? why? because in mgs4 he decided to say with rose and LiTtLe JoHn?? do you fucking hear yourself? did you play the game with your eyes AND ears closed? did you turn off your console like you were told to in mgs 2? fission mailed. fucking listen. in mgs4 rose left raiden because he had ptsd flashbacls and was drinking and fighting in the streets and couldn't control himself. i mean she left him to trick the patriots but this doesn't undo all the problems with his mental state wich obviously will cause a problem in a relationship one way or the other. and then by the end of the game he's like nah id win and decides to say with rose and also he now has a child. fucking great. you're not a monster jack. well except for the fact that his ptsd and trauma and desire for violence (eben if its to protect someone, wich is exactly what he does in rising) does not magically disappear just because yall say it did. he decided to say with his family but nobody including raiden himself didn't do anything for him to heal so if it didn't work before why would it work now when nothing changed. wich is why rising exists in wich i think he was standing here and realised that it won't work and continued going along with his violent urges wich is sad but makes more sense for his character and also this time he uses his desire and power to protect children from being made into child soldiers like he once was. so yeah mgs4 raiden arc can fuck off and Rising is based as hell for shoving 4's ending in the ass and making a better arc for him

[rust-bearer]

Ahhhhhhhh I got some childhood nostalgia and I just had to throw it onto the zombie apocalypse au. Probably could’ve just made a small post for this but I dunno, been a while since I did zombie stuff so I figured I’d let you in on it.

Was doing a little spring (?) cleaning and found my old Nintendo NES system I got a while back, cause y’know, absolute fucking nerd for most Mario games over here, and I was like… you know what. The zombie kids would probably love something like this.

I’d bet money that Swindle probably made sure their mansion farmhouse had solar panels built into it before everyone moved in. Based on where things take place, like, that might not be all that reasonable? I mean, where I live solar panels are common and highly encouraged if you can afford the original investment, and I’d bet he saw a way out of paying such high prices for utilities and just went all 🤑🤑!!!! with it because, well, of course he did.

Cue Swindle arguing with poor self-employed dude from Texas who’s explaining why they can’t just install solar panels where the house is, there’s little to no reliable sunlight and the trees would cover most of the rays and the house’s roof isn’t positioned right!! and—but Swindle is having NONE of it. He gets the solar panels, goes on to get into a whole debate with his bank to try to throw the charges off as fraud.

Anyway…. Solar panels kind of sort of mean somewhat reliable power? In the right circumstances maybe? OR. ORRRR you could do generators. Do both is what I’d do if I wasn’t broke but hey, it’s Swindle, he’s probably got more money than the fucking… whoever is the richest person or something.

SO. My overall hc is that Blast Off is the sort of resident techy person of the group, and I’d bet anything that on his occasional trips out to find good and interesting stuff to mess around with in his office/room/living quarters/etc, he brings back one of those old Nintendo consoles for the kids (and himself) to play with. The good thing is that he has one of those old-fashioned televisions as well, and it pairs really well with the NES console to give some nice sort of 80s vibes. Thank god for the solar panels, or… maybe the generators. Both?

Good news: the children love it! Blast Off gets a kick out of setting it up for them, and since it requires no internet, they’re good to go!

Bad news: once they get to a rather difficult level in one of the various Mario games Blast Off owns (projecting onto him because Mario is fucking AWESOME), nobody sleeps without hearing the cries of frustration from one of the few kids after they’ve lost the level for the umpteenth time. To everyone’s surprise, about three days’ into the struggle, Onslaught takes on the task of overcoming the problem level. Cue him sitting up at three am with all the kids snoozing around him, hunched over with glazed red eyes as he’s got a death grip on the controller and stares so hard at the tv as it depicts the whole “GAME OVER” title for the millionth time. He doesn’t get much sleep that night, and only stops trying to beat the game after Blast Off comes out and threatens to turn off the entire system because he “can hear the stupid machine from all the way across the house every single time Onslaught loses the level and it’s starting to get annoying.”

So yeah, I looovveeeee the old Nintendo games (specifically Mario games though) and I LOVE zombie headcanons, so I had to throw them both together! I think that’s it for now though.

God Swindle commits so much tax fraud. He does it, and does tons of it, but they can never make any of the charges stick if they ever even come up with a charge at all. Very mr sticky fingers, very ‘I donate a lot to the police every year…’ and whoops they just so happen to lose evidence and whoops, that ‘speeding ticket’ a new officer wrote up is all gone now. And so is the new officer. Though that’s also more inline with- everyone else in the family, too.

I think Swindle would be genuinely interested in casinos. He likes them on a financial level, of course, but he really has an interest in them on other levels too. If he cared enough he might’ve opened one himself, but that’s a lot of playing nice with people 24/7, too public facing. He’d definitely have friends who own them. ‘Friends’. Maybe visits them sometime, does some networking, the works. Vortex ironically is the one who might understand the ‘appeal’ of it the best, but he thinks it’s really boring; he’d rather ruin someone’s life and do it 1 on 1, not string hordes of people along for ever. Bleh.

I’d like to imagine it’s a combination of Blast Off AND First Aid coming up with the video games thing. Blast Off has a few, has a passing interest in them, but restoration as a hobby is the lowest on his list of interests. He initially balks, though, when the kids clamor to play too. Because they’ll get it dirty, or won’t play it right, or they’ll be too loud, really- but he eventually decides it’s not a bad idea. Lets them play Pong, of all things. Eventually he brings it up to First Aid, and First Aid mentions that he’d been trying to find some game consoles or the like, things they can play that won’t kill their power (handheld would be nice), but it’s- he never really cared a lot before, not since he was younger, and he doesn’t know what to look for anymore. So Blast Off goes with him next time they scavenge, despite Onslaught making a face about it.

First Aid hotly debates himself whether it would be psychologically harmful or helpful to bring the children games where they kill zombies.

[daydreamerdrew]

I don't think that the Link at the end of BOTW is necessarily materially better equipped to defeat Ganon than he was in his first life, despite the new experience of having gone through the shrines. the environment that he was in from the start facilitated the practice of the skills he needed; he was allowed/forced to be on the 'correct' course from a very young age. during the time of the game the shrines provided a new structure for him, that is notably just sort of there and can be participated in at his leisure to the ultimate completion of his choosing, to grow and practice various skills and accumulate what it is that the spirit orbs provide, which he needed in order to be able to wield the Master Sword again, and which is not something he needed in order to claim the Master Sword in his first life

as Zelda explains when she's watching him practice sword-fighting in the rain when there's nobody around but them:

"Your path seems to mirror your father's. You've dedicated yourself to becoming a knight, as well. Your commitment to the training necessary to fulfill your goal is really quite admirable. I see now why you would be the chosen one. What if… one day… you realized you just weren't meant to be a fighter. Yet the only thing people ever said… was that you were born a family of the royal guard and so no matter what you thought, you had to become a knight. If that was the only thing you were ever told… I wonder, then… would you have chosen a different path?"

we've seen what Link is like when he's outside of that environment, for the most part. he's told he's a hero and is tasked with saving Zelda, but then the way that plays out gives him a lot of freedom. it's notable the ease with which Link travels around the world, as no one attempts to follow him around to help him out or to make sure he's on the right track. he's not reliant on anyone else, so he's not beholden to anyone else. he's not under anyone's command, so he's free to accept quests to help anyone that he wants, and he does choose to help a lot of people. the Link in the main game of BOTW is a fighter, but he's not a knight.

pre-Calamity Link was fortunate enough that what he needed to do, be a fighter, lined up with what he was expected to do in the position that he was born in, but that doesn't mean that he was without problems. as Mipha explains in her diary about what Link was like prior to claiming the Master Sword and so before he had the expectation of being the hero of legend:

"One of them was a Hylian child of only about four years of age. His name was Link. He made quite a first impression. He was curious and full of energy, with a ready smile. Are all Hylian children that way? One thing that surely sets him apart is his swordsmanship, which I hear is exceptional. He has even bested adults. He must be somewhat reckless, however, as he was covered in bruises."

And then later:

"Link came to visit the domain. It feels like forever since he was here last. He no longer resembles the child I first met. He is now an accomplished knight and keeper of the sword that seals the darkness. I am so proud. However… He hardly speaks anymore, and smiles even more rarely. He is still the kind soul I knew, but something has changed."

This change is elaborated upon in Zelda's diary:

"When I finally got around to asking why he's so quiet all the time, I could tell it was difficult for him to say. But he did. With so much at stake, and so many eyes upon him, he feels it necessary to stay strong and silently bear any burden. A feeling I know all too well… For him, it has caused him to stop outwardly expressing his thoughts and feelings."

the environment that Link was in was deeply damaging to him, but it wasn't damaging in a way that prevented him from fulfilling his prophesized destiny. but the person that he is during the main game of BOTW, when most people he meets don't understand the stakes he's working with and so don't place all that pressure on him, is a lot more at peace. he can casually be blunt, make jokes, have fun, etc.

in contrast to Link's upbringing, Zelda's environment goes from her father framing it as, sometime before Zelda's mother died, which happened when she was six:

"Zelda's eyes lit up like a wildfire when I told her about the relics… I must admit, she has a knack for research."

to:

"The reason her sacred powers still won't awaken is because she's spending all her efforts playing at being a scholar!"

that Zelda was neglecting prayer in favor of study is obviously untrue. it's emphasized repeatedly the amount of time that Zelda dedicated, and ultimately wasted, over the years of her life to prayer. and within that the time she carved out for study was ultimately limited and minimal, despite the fact that that's what she was longing for, what she felt drawn to

my thinking has been that Link and Zelda were both naturally the people that they needed to be in order to fight the Calamity, but Zelda was prevented from being that person. her problem was never her lack of commitment, it was that she was not allowed to do the work she was best suited for, and her commitment to prayer as the path to unlock her powers was itself a hinderance as it was never going to lead anywhere and she would have been better off more boldly rebelling and escaping the environment that she was in

even so, in that hypothetical scenario in which Zelda was supported in the way that she needed to be in order to unlock her powers sooner than she did, she wouldn't necessarily have lived a largely happy life, even if the end result in how things went down with the Calamity was a lot better, because she would still be in the damaging environment of everybody knowing about the impeding apocalypse and that she was part of their only hope of survival

[fairest]

Sleeping through the siege: three dreams in a week of war & peace

1.

In his September 1939 journals, Albert Camus wondered where the war was. “Where does this absurd event show itself, except in the news bulletins we have to believe and the notices we have to read?”

In May 1940 he wrote, “The Stranger is finished.”

I doubt the truths of The Stranger, a book about blaming the fact you killed an Arab on the sun being in your eyes.

2.

I make coffee. Betsy and I feel like shit. Leo is fine, he just has pneumonia. We try to figure out if this current sickness is left over from the Covid, the cold, or if it’s the flu. We fail to understand. The current sickness is too much to hold in our heads or the bobbling head of the household. We don’t remember when our sickness started. We no longer know how long it’s lasted. That’s the way the sickness makers like it. For those who build the sickness, business is booming.

3.

I haven’t been this pissed off at America since March of 2003, and back then I was pissed off at everything. I can’t stop thinking about how things might be different if Bernie were president. Joe Biden stands up there in old glory. World War will be his “joeissance.” He talks about the “rules of war” like war is a game of Sorry! But nobody follows the rules when they play Sorry!, not really, you just kind of move around the board. This is what we mean when we say Trump & Biden are the same thing.

The worst voices of all are those like mine. Those I 100% agree with. Those who know the god’s honest truth.

4.

In the dumpling place, I hear two artistic-looking white college students ask themselves, “If they know anything about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.” They don’t. They text their friend Matt, who should know. Then they talk about the new season of Big fucking Brother.

Last week Leo, my six-year-old son, asked me if there was, “War that wasn’t Star Wars.” I loathe the beautification of war in Star Wars, but these days I shake like Ben Kenobi when Alderaan explodes.

Matt is still typing, the college kids say, slurping their soup.

Matt is still typing when the dumplings arrive.

5.

I am drawn to music that offers surprise attacks. The first Roger Sessions Piano Sonata. The cello in the second movement of Mozart’s “Dissonance” String Quartet. The final timpani in the Adagio of Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony.

When I clip the YouTube video of that final timpani, I notice it ends at the “9:11” mark.

6.

Betsy has a dream Jewish children are writing in sidewalk chalk Oseh shalom bimromav, Hu ya’aseh shalom aleinu, V’al kol Yisrael V’imru, and then Palestinian children come and write their prayer for peace, too, and the children leave their chalk drawings and walk off hand-in-hand.

In the dream Betsy knows the Palestinian prayer for peace, but when she wakes up, she doesn’t.

7.

I read the news. I buy the actual newspaper and tell myself I will only read news at night. I download news apps I’ve downloaded before, because I’m told by the App store I can just open.

Those who don’t read the news make me choke even more. They are usually the ones with central air conditioning.

8.

When there can be no peace is the time for peace.

9.

Yoram Kaniuk on, I think, the vastness of land in the United States:

“We drove along dirt roads between cliffs and blue and brown mountains for about five or six hours until we reached an isolated ranch surrounded by hundreds of acres of pasture and cows. I went to the foreman and as he gave me a tour I thought, I could put the entire State of Israel somewhere here in the middle of the ranch.”

10.

Always the drumbeats of war. The A1 snares of Taylor Swift. The below the fold snares of Gang Starr. The pots and pans of screamo bands that broke up in 2006 for unknown reasons. This war feels like those demos, a tape taped off another tape taped off another tape taped off another tape taped off another tape.

11.

Fred Moten:

After September 11th American imperial policy took no time off to mourn. We could have no share in that. No matter how much like that whatever we do is, no matter how many times we did things like that before that was done to us.

12.

I dream Hamas has gathered us in a cowshed and sent us against the walls. There are thousands of barns in this field and we wait. Hamas fighters enter our barn. They kill the cows first. I have my arms around my California cousins, my Florida aunt, my eyes are closed and I’m humming, I see the figure five in gold, I see the figure five in gold. They spare me. They spare my aunt. They kill my cousins. I’m in an airport Starbucks, removing the “ham” from an Egg McMuffin. I see a Pakistani woman holding a Guyanese child. The child is dead. The mother wailing. I recognize them from the barn.

13.

The poet Erich Kästner, in 1930:

“One day in the year 2003 a thousand airplanes fly from Boston loaded with gas and bacteria to kill all of humanity, because this is humanity’s only way of achieving the goal of world peace.”

14.

Matt is still typing.

15.

Sahir Ludhianvi, which, right now, sounds behind the times:

War is itself a problem. It isn’t the solution to any problem; Today it will offer fire and blood, And deliver hunger and want tomorrow.

16.

We go apple picking. We eat donuts. We enter the maze and get out of it. Leo rides a pony named Betty. He slides down the slide. He pumps on the swings. The rapper Billy Woods, watching his child swing on the swings, realized, “anything in the world could happen to him.” But the things happening to children right now are not things that will happen to my Leo. They somehow don’t even feel, right now, like the things happening to an African American like Billy Woods.

During the car ride home, Leo tells us he had a dream Ryder and Chase were having a contest on the swings. I get a little excited. I think he can sense there’s war outside of Star Wars. “Are Ryder and Chase enemies?” I ask. “No, Daddy” he says, “you know Ryder and Chase are the same.” So he does understand war.

[vickiabelson]

Michael Ruff Live on Game Changers With Vicki Abelson

In his first ever interweb interview, perhaps interview period, 3rd Zoom of his lifetime, and that includes 2 with his family, multiple Grammy-nominated producer and songwriter, BMI Award and Cable Ace Award winner, Michael Ruff, tried to be a little ruff, deflecting and avoiding answering questions about his past but ultimately, answering my questions he did. Even the really tough ones. And the password was FUN! 

 I’ve had a bit of a  run with bad boy musicians who are a tad unpredictable and contrarian- I love a good challenge. Well, I’m actually getting too old for that shit, but Michael’s worth it. HIs story hasn’t been told. Research for the show came up with a bio he’d written himself on his website, or had written for him, a few brief liner notes on a couple of videos, and 3 really short blogs, I mean really short. The end. No Wiki, no articles, no interviews for background. I was tightrope walking without a net of any kind for the first time myself and after getting over the initial shock of his response to a question being, “No, I don’t wanna…” That’s not an exact quote, fyi, I’m too fatigued to try to find the moment, at the moment, it’s also the first time in 7 years I didn’t stay up no matter how late and write liner notes, on the same night as the show, ever. Consider this a cherry breaking for both of us. 

Too harsh? For a man who values honesty seemingly above almost all else, except maybe love, I think he can take it.* 

*See his story about how he, with the help of his higher power to hear him tell it, saved and changed Snuffy’s life for good.

For someone who’s never done a Zoom podcast, Michael had arguably the best sound and set up for any guest I’ve had the privilege to sit down with––pointing up how much work I have to do on my own deal. Also pointing up his greatness, what makes him a one-of-a-kind brilliant artist, worth everything and anything. He displayed that brilliance tinkling throughout and featured on his new, as yet unreleased, Nobody But You, his classic, I Love You More Than You’ll Ever Know, my favorite, Wishing Well, and a taste of the brand new, Beautiful Children. *sigh* 

We talked about being born in Utah, Connecticut, Boston, Upstate New York, The Bitter End, The Flying Jib, At My Place, Hawaii, a bounty of musicians who populated them, playing with Rickie Lee Jones, MDing Chaka Kahn, bringing in the Snuff, being brought into Laura Brannigan by the him, Eric Burdon, Clive Davis’s pass, his Warner Brothers deal, Bonnie Raitt covering his Cry on My Shoulder on Nick of Time, self sabotage in work and in life, and the work to right that latter wrong. HIs massive love of his wife, his kids, his grandkid, his Island, its people, his music, faith, and his life. 

Michael’s jazz… an improvisation…his artistry, his impromptu, in the moment, in his skin, funny, irreverent, genius… fun, complicated, incomprehensible for its difficulty, made to look easy, is the stuff that makes him a treasure I hope he gifts us more of in the days and years ahead. A short west coast tour in June with John Cruz approaches. Dates here: JohnCruz.com  We’ll be there with massive smiles on. 

My takeaway - underneath the self-assured confidence Michael is a man who cares very much about pleasing, with his art, his craft, his life––he gives his very best. Even when he tries to withhold, he shares without filter. I’m even more enamored now, even if I did have to work for it.

Michael Ruff Live on Game Changers With Vicki Abelson

Wed, May 10th, 5 pm PT, 8 pm ET

Streamed Live on The Facebook

Replay here:

#MichaelRuff,#BonnieRaitt, #ChakaKhan, #Keyboardist,#Keys, #Keyboard, #Piano, #Organ, #Hawaii, #kauai, #Music, #musician, #grammynominated, #singer, #producer, #GameChangersWithVickiAbelson, #VickiAbelson, #GameChangers, #podcast, #inspirationalpodcast, #Celebrity,   #FacebookLive, #Talkshow #Chat #Live #pandemic, #comedy, #music,  #talk, #community, #caring, #sharing, #sharingiscaring, #streaminglive

[sunnyvaiprion]

man i beat PSMD in one sitting as soon as i got it i need to replay it someday i rushed 2 much smh... enjoy urself

Thanks!! Ohhh I can relate to that, once I found and booted up my 3DS not so long ago, I played literally all my free time through the remaining story, because it was so amazing and had so many twists I honestly couldnt foresee. It’s kind of shame that I barely rememeber the beginning…. but my memories of it are very fond too. I feel like replaying it eventually would still be a great experinece, even if we sort of know major plot points already. I hope you enjoy your time with it!!

Im slowly going through the post-credit part rn, I really love how much stuff one can explore and how many playable pokemon are there. I am, actually, a big fan of Sunkern!!! And I recently got it on my orb?? I’m so excited for when I’ll be able to connect with it. 

I’m… I think It’s just a really good game. Big Thanks, Nintendo.  

[troubatrain]

want you to want me - m. tkachuk

a/n: i’m awful at intros but this fic is my whole ass child. i started it months ago and i picked it up back and then i just couldn’t stop writing. now we’re at a whopping 10k words and i’m really happy with the way this one came out. i hope you guys like it as much as i loved writing it.

big thanks to @hookingminor @igor-shestyorkin & @tkafuckit for reading this as i wrote it and gassing me up ily all sm

warnings: smut

You were Matthew’s dream girl, and you didn’t have a fucking clue. You were leaning against the cold metal bleachers of your former high school, chatting with whatever teacher probably wanted to hear all about that shiny NWSL contract you signed right out of college with the Chicago Red Stars. It was well deserved, a few national titles in college put you in the position in the first place, and Matthew respected the hell out of you. You wouldn’t know, by the way he never seems like he actually wants to speak to you and the few snide remarks about your sport in general. That started forever ago, when Matthew royally fucked up any chance he had with you later in life because he was a competitive asshole.

It started when you were twelve, and middle school was nothing short of a mess. Matthew was growing into his own, adding a near foot to his height over one summer while his father and coaches doted on the fact that he was getting bigger. Getting bigger meant getting better, and for a few years winning was the most important thing in the world. But, becoming a hormonal preteen came with something else, feelings about the girl who sat three rows behind him in almost all of his classes.

Then third period gym class came around, and Matthew was a competitive monster. The kind of kid who took that way too seriously, and you accidentally became public enemy number one. You were the only person in his class who could even come close to beating him at anything, because you were just as much of an athlete as he was. Soccer had become your craft, and much like Matthew, you declared you’d go pro one day. So, Matthew did what any other insecure twelve year old boy would, he teased you relentlessly. It was awful, but by the time Matthew had gone off to play for the National team you had forgotten about his bullshit.

Apparently, you’d done something in a past life to warrant dealing with Matthew for longer than you ever anticipated. Jamie was your little sister, and Taryn’s best friend. Best friend was probably understatement, the pair were inseparable on and off the field. They trained together, they played on the same teams and that meant way too much time with the rest of the Tkachuk’s. You learned quickly, that the rest of their family was wonderful and Matthew seemed to be too thick headed to fall in line.

You tolerated Matthew, brushing his silly remarks off just like you did when you were younger. The thing was, Matthew didn’t want you to just tolerate him, but he didn’t know how to get you to stop hating him. You make your way over to Matthew who’d been standing next to his brother since the start of your sister’s game.

“Hi Brady,” You greet, tapping Brady on the shoulder who pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That annoyed Matthew the most, the way you seemed to love his siblings and despise him. In your defense, nobody was more supportive of your professional career than Brady, who’d made a promise to catch a game the second he could, “Hi Matthew.”

You were waiting for something from Matthew, an acknowledgement for finally achieving a dream of yours. You’d gotten the congratulations from the rest of his family, a massive celebration because Keith thought you deserved it. Matthew probably didn’t think you did. You could practically hear his smug little voice about how much his recently inked contract was compared to yours, because you’d heard it since you were kids. He used to rip on your athletic abilities every chance he could, something about how it didn’t matter how hard you could kick a ball you couldn’t hold a hockey stick so he was just better.

“You’re here!” You hear the chipper voice of your little sister approach, Jamie’s sweaty postgame arms wrapped around your waist. You’d been in Chicago, signing some paperwork and looking into finding a place to stay when you had to go for camp. You promised you’d make it back in time, and your flight landed less than five hours ago but you made it.

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself, watching his own sister push past him to see you. Taryn loved you, because sometimes she just needed a big sister and her brothers were in another country most

of the time. It was the part that killed him the most, seeing you with his family. You fit right in, a fierce athlete with drive that rivaled his own. Brady side-eyed his own brother, watching him instead of the scene unfolding in front of him. He was frustrated with his own brother for not just telling you the truth, that he teased you because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to handle having a crush on you.

But Brady was going to do it himself if his brother didn’t.

***

Matt, you don’t have a girlfriend right?

Matthew knew damn well he should not have answered his sister’s question, but when he realized her best friend had been sitting right next to her in the kitchen, his curiosity got the best of him. So he did, telling his sister he was single and sparing her details of any of the girls he’d gone on dates with the past year. That was his life is Calgary, a constant revolving door so no one would see what was underneath layers of sarcasm and angst. But every summer, he’d come home and wonder when he’d start to build a life for himself, and if he’d ever find that person to do it with. That was when his brain would start to wander, fantasies of a future that always seemed to involve you. He loved to imagine it, the years that you’d both spend supporting the other’s dream. Matthew would do anything to make sure you achieved yours, and he thought you’d do the same. Then you’d both settle down, the big house with the white picket fence and a shiny ring on your finger Matthew put there himself and years of arguing about what sport your future children would play - he’d even consider letting you have just one.

Unfortunately, none of that could be real until he figured out how to get you to hate him less. Taryn apparently had the same idea, and had been scheming with your sister for months. The two girls were looking at Matthew with devilish grins on their faces, like whatever they came up with would totally work.

“Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Your sister hums, sipping the smoothie they forced Matthew to drive them to go get, “It’s sad actually-”

“We think you should date,” Taryn explains, Matthew’s eyes went wide. His sister didn’t know the whole story, or just how far back this stupid fued went. Taryn always loved you, so Matthew just kept his remarks to himself.

“I know you know Y/N doesn’t like me very much,” Matthew explains, “So tell me how that’s going to work.”

“Apologize to her, if she can forgive me for anything she’ll forgive you,” Jamie sighs, thinking of all the times you’d shown her mercy when she didn’t deserve it.

“You’ve got to be sorry,” Brady interrupts, mouth full of food while he goes to go look for more in the fridge. He turns around, Matthew’s eyes giving him daggers, “What? You were a dick to her for years, you’ve got to fix that first.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, Taryn had already planned out what Matthew should say to you. Matthew wasn’t going to repeat those words, because he knew exactly what he’d say to you if he ever got the chance. He was trying to fix his past, because the way he acted towards you was the one thing he regrets. 

So with the help of your little sister and the Find my Friends app, Matthew was pulling up to a soccer field he’d been to plenty of times. He used to run through the park nearby, catching a glimpse of your practices when you were in high school and Matthew was an afterthought. He hops out of his car, smiling when he could see you running drills alone. You were dribbling the ball, counting to yourself while you were weaving through cones you set up.

“I’ve never been good at those,” Matthew calls out, walking over to you while you stopped and caught your breath, “I kick the cones with my skate every single time.”

“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” You tease, grabbing your water and guzzling it down, “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I came to apologize?” Matthew admits, knowing his face was probably bright red. He was nervous, the good kind like he got before a big game, “I was just an insecure kid then, and you didn’t deserve what I did just because I was afraid you’d beat in something.”

Matthew left out the part where he felt like he was still that kid all the time. All of those insecurities about himself seemed to be picked up by every reporter in Canada when he was there. You bit your lip, pretending like you were trying to debate whether or not you should forgive Matthew at all. In reality, you would have forgiven him ages ago if he’d just apologized sooner. It was so long ago, and sometimes you thought Matthew’s constant taunting made you better. He was pleading, baby blue eyes staring at you sadly while he waited for your answer. He looked like he didn’t think he deserved to be forgiven, shoulders slumped while he tried to read your body language. It was something you noticed about Matthew forever ago, he could have everything in the world but when he looked at you he seemed almost sad.

“I mean I could forgive you, but only if you beat me,” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Matthew, “If I win, I don’t have to and if you win all is forgiven.”

“Really? Isn’t that why we were in this situation to begin with?” Matthew points out, crossing his arms at you.

“I thought you weren’t that kid anymore,” You remind of his own words, testing him to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was. Matthew smirks, chuckling to himself, “C’mon Tkachuk let’s see what you got.”

Matthew shook his head, laughing and lining up next to you. You both counted to three, sprinting down the field at full force. Matthew knew his height was the only thing working to his advantage while he tried to keep up with you. You were nearing your finish line, and Matthew didn’t think he was going to win. You were going to forgive him regardless, but Matthew didn’t know that. His arms stretched out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his chest. Matthew turned his body around, stepping over the line before you did.

“God, you’re such a fucking cheater Matthew,” You hit his chest, Matthew’s hands still firmly placed on your hips.

“I didn’t want to lose,” Matthew admits, all of his smug attitude diminishing immediately, “Just want you to forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you if you never pull that shit on me again,” You poke his chest, slipping out of his grip and running to your stuff before he could notice how nervous he was making you. 

No. Absolutely not. You told yourself while you checked your phone, rolling your eyes at the warning text from Jamie that Matthew was on his way, you couldn’t have anything but indifference to Matthew Tkachuk. It got harder everytime you saw him, the past few years had been nothing short of kind to him, he was growing from a dumb immature boy to a man more and more every summer. You turn around, peeking at Matthew who was sitting down and catching his breath, a winning smile on his face, the same kind he had the very first time he schooled everyone at floor hockey in middle school.

Maybe you could be friends.

***

Matthew liked having you as a friend, mostly because as of right now that was all he was going to get. You definitely didn’t trust him, which was valid considering Matthew had been a dick to you for years, but he was working on it. He had to, that uncontrollable feeling that he cared about you was getting harder to shove back down with every year that passed.

“You’re friends now, you don’t need to stare at her like a creep anymore,” Brady scoffs, watching his brother gawk at you from afar. Matthew couldn’t help it, you just had a glow about you, you always did, but somehow in the summer you were golden. Tonight you looked even better, maybe it’s because you smiled at him when he walked instead of scowling like you usually did.

“He’s in love with you,” Steph giggles, sipping her drink and giving Matthew a side eye, “He’s been staring at you all night.”

“He apologized to me,” You confess, holding in that little secret about Matthew’s visit to the field even from your best friend. You had the same friends, the same group of people who’d been pushing the two of you to work it out for years. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to know that they no longer had to worry about one of you blowing up because the other was there, you just wanted everyone to let it go too. Matthew deserved a little forgiveness, you could only imagine the pressure he felt on himself back then, and while he didn’t totally deserve your protection - you were going to give it to him, “Don’t-”

“Oh wonder why, I know it’s because he looooves you,” Steph teases, “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah I mean we’re both older and I’d like to think he’s wiser, and besides our parents are way too close,” You knew this was going to be your excuse for a while. It was better for everyone that you forgave him, Jamie and Taryn spent more time together than you’d spend with anyone and you're just as close with the rest of their family. It wasn’t untrue that it was in fact for the best, but that didn’t mean Matthew’s stupid dimples didn’t persuade you before you could think about anyone else, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you once that night, especially after the way Steph downed tequila shots and convinced you to join her. You deserved to celebrate, you’d accomplished something Matthew knew was your biggest dream because it was the same as his. He was proud of you, not that he’d gotten a chance to show it.

“If you’re going to go pro Y/N, you’ve got to start keeping up,” Brady chirps, watching you stumble over your own feet to walk over to him and Matthew. Matthew had seen this once before, a level of drunkenness where you turned into bambi but that was so long ago he never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ll go pro in beating your ass Brady,” You snap back, shooting daggers over Brady who was already cracking up, “Hi Matthew.”

“Hi,” Matthew’s voice was small, a weird sound considering he was usually the loudest in the room. Brady scoffs, walking away from the two of you before he snaps at how hopelessly in love his brother was. You turn your head in confusion, your mind far too hazy to realize why Brady was so annoyed in the first place, causing Matthew to chuckle, “Want to play? Might be best if we’re on the same team.”

Matthew’s thumb shot over to the beer pong set up on the other side of the room, a mischievous smirk on face, “I mean if it’s for the best.”

Matthew’s arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to his chest while you both played pong was definitely not for the best, and it wasn’t helping that stupid crush you had on him. You could feel Steph’s stare from the corner of the room, and you look at her to mouth a don’t at her. It was nice having Matthew on your team, finally a moment where instead of arguing with each other about who’s elbow was clearly over the table - you got to do the same thing to Brady.

“Brady you’re cheating,” You call out, Matthew’s head thrown back in laughter at your seriousness.

“You heard her Brady, elbows over the table,” Matthew breathes out, his body still rumbling with laughter at his little brother’s expense.

“Oh look at you two, you’re just gonna raise some winners one day aren’t you?” Brady chirps back, both happy to see you getting along and annoyed once he realizes that means he was going to get roasted by both of you now. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, tucking your face into Matthew’s arm in hopes no one saw the way you shrunk at that stupid joke.

“We’re winners right now,” Matthew calls out, his last ball landing in the cup and sealing the game for the two of you. Matthew would raise winners with you, it was something he thought about from time to time, but those thoughts were never going to see the light of day, “Alright drunky I think it’s time to get you home.”

“You can stay, I’ll just catch a ride with someone,” You waive Matthew off, who shook his head no at you before you even started speaking.

“One, my dad would kick my ass if he knew I left you,” Matthew starts with, holding up one finger with another on the way, “Two, we’re friends now and I’d like to make sure you don’t die before you see a pro game.”

Matthew had seen you this drunk before, but what he didn’t know was that getting you home would be more difficult than he thought. You started in the direction of your house, but apparently you were a runner and a speedy one at that. Now you were barely two blocks away from Matthew’s parents place and if he could at least get you there he’d be able to call it a night - which wasn’t fucking easy.

“Alright I’ve had enough,” Matthew huffs, jogging to catch up with you and scooping you into his arms. You were hanging over his shoulder, Matthew making his way down the street with the house in his sightline. You could have cared less, laughing your ass off while Matthew walked up the stairs and finally placed you back down on your feet, “Be quiet, go up to my room and get some clothes and go sleep in the guest room.”

You weren’t quiet, not at all and Matthew was amazed not one of his parents came down to see what all the chaos was about. After Matthew had to walk you up the stairs, running back down for some water and hoping you weren’t a disaster by the time he got back - he found you in his bed. You were curled up right in the middle, an old London Knights shirt on your body, Matthew’s favorite. Matthew grabs his comforter, throwing it over your body. He sighs, leaning against his door frame and smiling to himself at how comfortable you looked, flicking off the light and retreating to the guest room.

Matthew hated the guest room. He hated how hard the mattress was and after a few hours of no sleep and tossing and turning - he gave up. Matthew hoped no one else was up, but not to his surprise his mother was already in the kitchen, and judging by the look on her face, she knew who was upstairs.

“Care to explain?” Chantal smirks, raising her eyebrows at her son. Matthew’s face got red, his landing on the back of his neck to cover the blush.

“She fell asleep before I could even get her to the guest room,” Matthew shrugs, hoping his mom wouldn’t push it any further, “I, uh, apologized the other day.”

“Good,” Chantal hums, a knowing look on her face. She didn’t like to push Matthew, her one kid who seemed to be a little rougher around the edges than the others, but that silly feud never sat right with her, “Here, bring her a coffee, I’m sure she needs it.”

Matthew nods, grabbing the mug his mother was holding out and starting to make his way up the stairs. He heard the tell her you made it from his mother and shook his head. He knew what she was thinking, especially with the way Chantal seemed to talk about you. His mother thought you were nothing short of perfect, and Matthew would be a liar if he didn’t think the same thing.

“Did I fall asleep here?” You’d woken up confused, your question only answered by the jerseys hanging on the walls, you were in Matthew’s room. You rub your eyes, the door creaking open way too loudly for how dead you felt.

“Only after you almost fell down the stairs and ran three blocks in the wrong direction,” Matthew chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the mug, “You know you’re fast right?”

“Yeah,” You muse, smirking to yourself and taking a sip of coffee, “I’m sorry I did that to you, and stole your bed - I can go.”

Matthew stopped you, telling to finish your coffee and relax and he’d drive you home after. You fell into a comfortable conversation, something Matthew never thought would happen.

And watching you walk up to your steps in his shirt still wasn’t something he thought he’d see, but it was better than he imagined.

***

“Hey it’s Jamie, can’t get to the phone right now…”

You groan, tossing your phone onto your bed and continuing your pace around the room. It was well after midnight, and your sister had been out all night, and past her curfew. Usually you’d cover for her, definitely taking the prize home for the cool older sister who picks her siblings and their friends up from parties. That’s what had you so worried. Sure, Jamie was a teenager and she snuck in a few little white lies with your parents just like you’d done, but Jamie always told you the truth. She’d check in with you more than her parents, letting you know that she’s going to be out late but she’s safe and if she needed anything she knew who to call. You texted sometime around ten, just checking in since it was Saturday and you were sure she had a more riveting social life than yourself. No answer. Then eleven rolled around and you didn’t hear anything, so naturally you double texted and now it’s twelve thirty and you still haven’t heard anything. You cross your arms, looking at your phone as if you could will an answer into existence. You grab it, dialing a number you weren’t even sure would work.

“Hello?” Matthew’s voice appeared on the other side of the line, clear confusion in his voice. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping Matthew would have the answer you wanted to hear so desperately.

“Is my sister at your house?” You ask, biting your lip and throwing on a pair of sweats so you could pick her up and murder her for scaring you like that. You were sure it was innocent, Jamie slept over at Taryn’s all the time, staying up way too late watching movies or when Jamie would hide going to a party from your much stricter parents.

Matthew tells you to give him a minute, and you can hear him walking through the house. By the time you heard a door open and a small fuck under his breath, your stomach dropped, “She was supposed to be home by midnight.”

“Alright, thanks anyways,” You sigh, “Do you know where they might have gone? It’s just, Jamie hasn’t answered me in hours and she usually does even if she’s out past curfew and I’m just-”

“I’ll be at your house in ten,” Matthew says, his keys alright in his hand and his foot halfway out the door. He was more mad than worried, sure his sister was out a party past curfew. Matthew was her biggest brother, and he was far more protective over her than Brady ever could be. He hated when she did this, and Matthew was pissed. You waited on your steps, Matthew car coming into view while you sprung up and practically sprinted into his car.

“You look mad,” You observe, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. You knew why, trying countless times to remind Taryn that her brother loves her and that’s why he’s like that. You thought he could go a little easier on her, but you wouldn’t dare get in the middle of that.

“I am mad,” Matthew grits out, knuckles white on his steering wheel while he drives slowly down the street. You just drove, in hopes you’d find what was obviously a house party and hopes your sisters were inside. You squint, hoping your eyes weren’t fooling you.

“Wait, pull over I think I see my neighbor,” You yell, Matthew’s foot flying on the break and you hop out. You were right, the bright orange tuft of hair you saw was like a miracle, “Hey Henry have you seen my sister?”

“Oh yeah I think she’s still inside,” Henry points to the house behind him, music blasting and a party in full swing, “I think she’s with Taryn.”

Matthew hops out of the car, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house with him. Matthew’s fingers were laced with yours with every step he took, weaving through the crowd in hopes you’d see them. It took three bedrooms and a laundry room until you finally saw Taryn standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, and you pushed past them both to see Jamie with her head in the toilet. She was fine, well she was definitely in deep shit, but it wasn’t the worst thing to stumble upon. You throw her hair up, your attention moving to Matthew yelling at his sister in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you call someone,” Matthew yells, trying so damn hard to not completely snap on his baby sister. Taryn yells that her phone had died and then Jamie got sick and she didn’t know what to do. Of course they didn’t. You were probably more sympathetic, and you knew just how pissed off Matthew could get. You get up, pushing Taryn back into the bathroom and telling her to watch your sister.

“Calm down before you talk to her, please,” You plead, grabbing Matthew’s shoulders, “Besides, I sort of need some help right now.”

There it was. The very moment Matthew realized all along you could’ve been helping him. Your hands were wrapped around his biceps, a finger gently rubbing the skin right under the sleeve of his shirt. Every bit of anger disappeared from his body, a calm feeling replacing it. He knew you were right, and he’d be thankful for it later. Matthew knew he had to do the right thing by you, and he nodded, willing to follow any directions you gave him.

Matthew carried Jamie out of the house, getting both of your sisters in the car and finally heading back to your house. You knew he was still pissed off, a present frown on his face so you just took the chance. Just like he’d done before for you, you grabbed one of his hands from his steering wheel, lacing your fingers together. You caught the smile on his face, your thumb rubbing over his hand while his shoulders seemed to just relax. Once

Matthew finally helped you get Jamie inside, a night of laying on her floor to make sure she was okay ahead of you stood in the doorway with Matthew across from you.

“Thank you, I know we’re working on this friendship thing but you really didn’t have to do that,” You were eternally grateful, wrapping your arms around Matthew’s waist and tucking your head into his chest.

“You’d do the same thing for Taryn,” Matthew hums, knowing full well he definitely owed you for being Taryn’s replacement sibling with him and Brady in Canada for most of the year, “Get some rest okay?”

“Wait,” You stop Matthew, grabbing his hand one more time, “Don’t kill your sister, please she’s just a kid-”

“You’re way too easy on them,” Matthew chuckles, shaking his head at you. He knew Taryn was probably scared, and after he calmed a bit he understood where you were coming from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tell her that if she ever pulls that shit again - he was going to rat her out to their parents.

And when Matthew finally got back in the car, he could see his sister’s grin in the backseat, “Don’t say it.”

She held your hand, are you sure you’re not going to malfunction now?

***

Maybe you were spiraling.

You’d been waiting for this moment your entire life, now you had a few more weeks until camp started and you were afraid. You knew you were good enough, you had to be. But what if you weren’t? You could feel the anxiety settling in, a feeling you hadn’t felt since Matthew told you soccer wasn’t a real sport in fourth grace. It’d been eating at you for weeks, deteriorating any confidence you had left in yourself. So you started pushing yourself even harder. The harder you worked the less like you were to fuck it all up. Your muscles were sore, your body was tired and it was just all becoming too much.

And Matthew noticed.

You were pushing yourself too hard, even the time you were supposed to relax with your families before your seasons started was being spent training. He understood it, the term first round exit lived rent free in his head every single time his skate hit the ice over the summer, but that didn’t make it okay. You looked tired, sluggish while you moved because you were running twice a day and training in between. And he was pissed everyone seemed to be fine with it. You should start working harder then Matthew. If it bothers you so much maybe you could join her. It wasn’t that he was jealous of your work ethic, he was worried. Matthew’s eyes followed you as you ran past his house again. The third time in one day, he’d finally decided he had enough.

Matthew took the walk to your house, charming the pants off your mother for her to tell him you were upstairs because you just got back in. He knocks twice, hearing a come in from the other side.

“What are you doing here?” You question, rolling one of your ankles that just seemed to be getting more swollen every time you started to practice. Matthew noticed it, your hands freezing one you caught his gaze.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Matthew stands his ground, he knew you could have told him to fuck off because no one hates advice they didn’t ask for quite like him, “Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s rich coming from the kid who’s played with more broken bones than anyone I know,” You remind him of a few mistakes Matthew’s made playing through injuries he really shouldn’t, “I’m not fucking frail.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Matthew scoffs, it never once crossed his mind that he thought he was tough enough to play through injuries but you weren’t, “It’s about taking a break so you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m fine,” You huff, getting up and trying your best to hide the pain in your ankle when you stood on it. You fell forward, Matthew catching you in his arms and putting you back down the edge of your bed.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” Matthew asks with soft eyes, he bent down to take your ankle in his hand and inspect it the best he could. It was swelling, probably from the amount of pressure you’d been putting on your body with no breaks.

“What if I never score a goal?” You whisper, teary eyes finally meeting Matthew’s. His brows shot up, alarmed at how one of the best athletes he’s ever seen could feel the same way he felt right before his first NHL game. Matthew sits down next to you, hand on your thigh while you let out a cry, “What if I’m just a bust? Like I get there and nothing works and I suck.”

“You’ll score eventually,” Matthew scoffs, understanding how ridiculous you sounded but just how you felt at the same time, “Everyone does.”

“You scored like four games into your fucking career Matt,” You remind him, Matthew smiling a bit that you knew that to begin with. It would have been impossible not to know, or pretend like you didn’t keep a few tabs on his career. Matthew Tkachuk was a legend in the making, and whether or not you could feel butterflies in your stomach every time he dropped the gloves was a secret you’d take to the grave.

“I got suspended my first season too,” Matthew jokes, a teary eyed laugh escaping your lips, “I’d put down money you score in your first game.”

“Well good thing you have money to lose,” You sigh dramatically, the fear of fucking up still on your mind.

“You’ll find your groove, all legends do,” Matthew promises, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You snuggled into his side, a realization that he was becoming a comforting presence in your life with each passing day, “And if you don’t, you can always hide out in Canada with me.”

“Matty!” The same silly nickname Matthew introduced himself to you on your very first day of kindergarten slipped through your lips without realizing it. Matthew hadn’t been called that in ages, but it was welcome from you. You push his chest, “That’s not making me feel any better.”

“What if I told you the only reason I was so mean to you was because I was intimidated by how talented you were?” Matthew confesses, scratching your head with his fingers, “If I win a cup one day I think I owe you one.”

Matthew didn’t mention that in his wildest fantasies of raising that cup over his head, you were there. He’d owe you one and he hoped it was because you were there for him until he got there. Matthew saw it the same way every time, you’d tell him to go see his parents first but he’d fly right past them to get to you - the person who accidentally pushed him to be his best. He had plenty of daydreams about you winning too, remembering times you used to brag you’d go to the Olympics one day, and he hoped you were right. He wanted to see you succeed, more than anything, and he thought it would work.

“Legally you have to let me drink out of it,” You muse, shutting your eyes and letting yourself just rest against Matthew.

“It has to be Bud Light,” Matthew teases while watching you fake a gag. You grab his outstretched hand, letting him pull you up. His hands rested on the side of your face, eyes flickering to your lips for just a second. He wanted to kiss you, but he knew he had to wait. Wait for you to be ready. Wait for you to settle down. Or even just wait until he thought he had a real shot at forever.

Forever with you.

***

Matthew was kind of pissed off.

The press didn’t bother him, none of that mattered and at the end of the day Matthew was able to sleep at night knowing he was a good teammate and a decent person most of the time. This one got him though, some writer criticizing the A on his jersey, and how someone who plays like he does didn’t deserve a letter.

A letter he earned.

You could tell something was off, the way Matthew had been running alongside you was aggressive to say the least. He insisted he came with you, something about forcing you to take breaks. He was being your friend, even though your sisters seemed to disagree. Taryn’s words were replaying in your head, Matt doesn’t even care if I get hurt. That didn’t mean anything, those two had no idea what love was and Matthew caring about you a little bit didn’t mean he loved you. Besides, the way he was acting right now told a completely different story.

“Are you mad at me?” You finally slow down, sitting on a rock that was next to the hiking trail you were on.

“No?” Matthew stops dead in his tracks, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach that he fucked this up too, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“No, tell me what’s wrong,” You push, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at Matthew. You could tell he was pressed about something, his neck covered in a red flush the same way it used to.

“Some stupid article about my letter, don’t worry about it,” Matthew grits, repeating his words again. His defense was up, even after you confessed to him that you were scared of not being enough.

“Get the fuck out of here with the tough guy act Matthew,” You challenge him, poking him right in the chest, “If we’re going to be friends you need to cut that shit out.”

“You really want to hear it?” Matthew barks back, fully yelling at you, “I’m tired of people thinking I don’t deserve things because I threw a few bad hits. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think you’re shitty? No you don’t, because you’re so fucking perfect that my own parents like you more than me.”

You stood there, silent while you tried to figure out how to tell him that simply wasn’t true. His entire body was shaking, the anger coursing through his veins like you’d seen many times before that. Matthew looked like he did the first time you hit a homerun in gym class, except this time it was because that same pressure never got released. You couldn’t come close to understanding the way he probably felt. You didn’t have the comparables in your own family, the constant reminders of Brady’s points tally compared to his, let alone the career his father had.

“Matty,” You whisper, grabbing his hand and running your fingers over the scars on his knuckles, “Why is this bothering you so much?”

You were sure this wasn’t the first time someone’s said he was a pest, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Matthew sighed, the better part of his brain screaming at him to stop before he lost you too.

“I’ve felt like this forever,” Matthew whispers, eyes fixated on your hand in his, “From the moment I started getting bigger, there’s just been this pressure to play a certain way and act a certain way. I was a fucking kid, and while all of my friends got to go wherever they wanted all I ever did was practice. Then I finally get to where I wanted and I’m still getting shit on.”

“Except no one thinks you don’t deserve to be where you are,” You whisper, quiet words as if you were going to startle him, “And I know it doesn’t make up for things people say, but the people who love you think you deserve it.”

Matthew nods, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his words mumbled against your forehead, “I needed that.”

“I know,” You nod, smiling wide up at him, “And we need to practice more because you’re too slow, soooo catch me if you can!”

You slipped out of his arms, running away with a giggle and a smile. Matthew stopped for a second, his Neanderthal brain checking out your ass while you jogged away and his more logical one trying to process what just happened.

But what mattered most was that whatever you did worked and that meant something to Matthew.

***

Just admit you think he’s hot.

You wanted to kill your sister for making this weekend harder than it had to be. You were doing a good job at just friends with Matthew until Jamie was curled up in your bed while you packed for a lake trip with your friends. She pushed it for hours, rambling on about Matthew is actually your type and Taryn swears he’d be a good boyfriend if someone just understood him. The problem was, you were starting to see her point. Matthew had a glow up a few years ago, like one summer he’d gotten home and you were infatuated with him. It used to annoy you, because he’d been such an ass to you that you hated how attractive he was. Then things changed, and now looking at him was just frustrating you. You were terrified about the way he made you feel, like everything would be okay with one look of those blue eyes and a smirk. You felt like he had your back, a vast change from how you used to feel and it was just getting hard to hide it anymore.

Especially when Matthew looked like he did right now. He was holding himself up on the dock, shoulders broad and glistening in the moonlight above you. All your friends were inside, moving their party away from the water as the night lingered on. You wanted to run your fingers through his wet curls, the temptation was almost too much.

“I’ll be in Chicago a few times you know,” Matthew hums, enjoying the time alone he was getting with you. Anytime without Brady teasing him about what the Tkachuk’s had been referring to as the hand holding incident. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t want you, because he did, but he just needed to move at his own pace.

“You want to come see me play?” You ask, leaning back on the palms of your hands. You were surprised by the kind of man Matthew had become, it was a completely different person that he used to be. He cared so much about his loved ones, and you were starting to feel like maybe you had a place there.

“Actually thinking you could come see me play,” Matthew teases, sarcasm dripping from his words. You lifted your foot up, kicking some of the water below you to splash him, but he’d caught your ankle before you could. He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over your skin, “This looks better.”

“Don’t make you admit you were right,” You whine, Matthew swiftly pulling you into the water with him. You yelp, the water way too cold for any normal person, “It’s freezing.”

“C’mere then,” Matthew grabs your waist, pulling your body against his. His hands were splayed across your back, heat radiating off of them. One of your hands was on his shoulder, your other on his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly, his eyes locked on yours, “Middle school Matthew would be so jealous of me right now.”

“Why’s that?” You hum, running your fingers along Matthew to play connect the dots with the beauty marks on his skin.

“Because he had the biggest crush on you,” Matthew confesses, his grip on you a little tighter, as if he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers again, “But he was too thick headed to do anything about it.”

“What about grown up Matthew?” You ask, biting your lip. Matthew was practically holding you both up in the water, pressed so close together you could hear the hitch in his breath at your question, “Is he too thick headed to do something too?”

You wrapped your legs around Matthew’s waist, pressing your lips to his and tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. He pushed you up against the dock, helping you back up and pulling himself up next to you. You grabbed the back of his neck, latching your lips back on his. His hand was on your back, fingers toying with the back of your bathing suit, “Think we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?”

Matthew was cool most of the time. He never faltered under the pressure from his career, most of the time, and he definitely didn’t fold when it came to a pretty girl. You had him in the palm of your hand, every part of his brain malfunctioning in response to your words. You bit your lip, wondering if you’d read this entire situation. Matthew rubs a thumb along your lip, “When are you going to realize I’d do whatever you asked me to?”

The two of you snuck up the stairs, giggles and stolen kisses left in your wake. You open the door, Matthew’s hands still toying your bathing suit top, “Just take it off already Matty.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Matthew breathes, his lips pressed against your neck while the garment falls to the floor, “So fucking beautiful.”

You back hit the mattress, Matthew’s hands running up your body slowly. Slow wasn’t in Matthew’s vocabulary, but he was taking his time just in case he never got this opportunity again. His fingers hooked under your bathing suit bottoms, sliding the wet fabric down your legs. You looked so beautiful, spread out just for Matthew like he’d dreamed about numerous times. His lips moved down to your breasts, teeth grazing against your skin while his tongue swirled against your nipple. You let out a breathy moan, Matthew’s ego boosting from the sound. You plucked at his curls while his mouth moved down to where you were craving him most, a gentle kiss to your clit, “Matty, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to beg,” Matthew hums, pressing feather light kisses around your core. He stopped, gripping your thighs and looking up at you, “You sure about this?”

“Yes, please,” You whine, pussy dripping from Matthew’s hot breath fanning over it. Matthew chuckles darkly, fingers digging into your thighs when he flicked his tongue over your clit. You moan, completely unbothered by the blaring music a floor below you. Matthew didn’t seem to be bothered either, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit, living for the way you were whimpering above him, “Matty-”

“Close baby?” Matthew groans, slipping a finger inside of you and curling it. You back arched, his name falling through your lips was enough to answer his question. Your legs shook, pleasure washing over your body from Matthew and all of it just felt so right. Matthew’s lips were latched to your skin until he finally met your eyes again. He smiles softly, nudging his nose with yours while you caught your breath, “So good for me.”

“Should’ve known you were that good with your mouth with the way you run it,” You tease smiling against his lips.

“Not with you, not anymore,” Matthew promises, soft blue eyes looking into yours, he meant it. He didn’t know how else to make it clearer, he wanted you. You kissed him slowly, hands trailing down his abs and stopping where his shorts hit his waist. Matthew kicks off his swim trunks, cock springing free. You grab the back of his neck, pulling your lips to his and rolling over top of him and straddling his waist. It was criminal how good you looked on top of him, “Gonna ride me babe?”

You nod, lining his dick up your core and lowering yourself on top of him. You let out a whine, Matthew’s smug smile on full display once he realized it was because of how big he was, “We don’t have to if my dick’s too big.”

“Oh shut up,” You roll your hips, watching the way Matthew’s head fell back, smirking because he really thought he had control here. Matthew’s hands gripped your waist, moving your hips faster. His finger flicked over your clit, causing you to lunge forward on top of him. Matthew flipped you over, wrapping a leg around his waist so he could hit your g-spot. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails leaving scratches Matthew was going to wear pride later. You were seeing stars, noises leaving your throat you’d never even heard yourself make, “Fuck, Matty, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Look at me,” Matthew grabs your chin, pressing his forehead against yours and watching while your eyes roll back with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around him, his own cum spilling into you from the sensation, a loud groan following. Matthew pressed a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried inside of you, “I wasn’t bullshitting you, I mean every word Y/N.”

“Matthew,” You whisper, running a finger along his back, “The distance…”

You didn’t mention everything, the way that if this was real it meant it would end up ripping you both apart. You were set to live in a different city, Matthew all the way in another country. The way your dreams included a spot on the U.S. National team, and the idea that wanting to be with Matthew would hold you back was terrifying. The way his dreams probably meant staying in Calgary forever, a C on his jersey and a cup over his head. It wasn’t going to be easy, you weren’t ever going to be the doting girlfriend he probably needed. There would be years of travel schedules and games that overlapped, and a part of you thought that maybe Matthew wouldn’t be able to do it. You’d get a year in and he’d find someone who would be there more and finally you’d end it.

“We can make it work, baby I want you, I always have and I probably always will,” Matthew starts, baring his soul to another person for the first time in his goddamn life, “I want to support your dreams and have you be there for mine. I’m all in here, I don’t know how else to tell you.”

“Can I have some time?” You plead, holding onto Matthew’s shoulders because you knew he could leave and tell you to never speak to him again. Matthew sighs, understanding the way you were shitting yourself about starting your own professional career, remembering the way rookie Matthew would have died before he considered settling down that first year, “Please don’t leave me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Matthew promises, rolling over and letting your rest on his chest, “I’ll wait for you.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him. Matthew didn’t sleep a minute that night, running every single scenario that could possibly happen with the two of you. Matthew was sure it would work out, it had to, because if it didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover.

So now all he could was wait.

***

You know this is creepy right?

Matthew stares at Sam, punching his teammate in the arm lightly and telling him to shut up. He had a night off in Chicago, and after four straight hours of staring at your contact in his phone, Matthew finally just bought the tickets. He’d been good at keeping his distance, you needed space and he respected you enough to try and give it to you. He wasn’t doing so hot, Matthew consuming more soccer games than hockey games at this point. It started with your first game, because how was he supposed to just pretend like it wasn’t happening? You scored too, and it took everything in his power not to call you to tell you that not only was he right, he was insanely proud of you.

And he’d been hearing it from everyone. Your sister thought it was bullshit, Taryn and Jamie almost had Matthew on a flight to Chicago ready to show up like a terrible Lifetime movie. Brady thought it was hilarious the way Matthew was simping like this for one girl. Now, his teammates were on him, wondering why on Earth their friend who historically ran through women faster than he did mouthguards could be this hung up on someone he had a crush on in middle school.

“What number is she?” Sam asks, sipping the beer he forced Matthew to buy after making him go along with this.

“Nineteen,” Matthew smiles, pointing down at you on the field. You looked so happy, warming up with one of your teammates and a bright smile on your face. It seemed like a good fit, your team and your new city, and it made Matthew’s heart grow four sizes.

“Did she choose your number?” Sam jokes and Matthew mumbles something under his breath, “What?”

“It was her number first,” Matthew admits, not wanting to ever confess to another soul that you crossed his mind when he kept that camp number. Sam howled next to him, leaning over his seat and cracking up at his teammate.

You looked out in the crowd about halfway through the game, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t seeing things. That tuft of curls was hard to miss, not to mention you knew just how big Matthew was. He was far too into the game to realize you caught him, up in arms about a call against your team that was valid but he’d argue it wasn’t. You asked for space, and it was getting harder to stick to your guns. Especially when he was making it so clear that he wanted this.

And whether or not you went to his game the next night, was a secret you’d take to the grave.

***

You were so close you could have tasted it.

While the final seconds of your season came to a close, all you could do was hold your head in your hands and hope no one caught the tears. A semi-final loss was devastating, but a semi-final loss where there wasn’t anything you could have done differently was even worse. Every athlete had off nights, a point Keith pushed right before you left to start your season, and he was right. Unfortunately, that was this game. Your biggest fear had come true and there was nothing you could do about it now. The game was over and you weren’t moving on.

And Matthew watched it.

Matthew promised you space, and he swore he’d give you the time you needed to settle down. But, this was something he couldn’t ignore. He could tell you were off, your entire rookie season was almost perfect and watching the way you folded during this game was gut wrenching. Matthew knew better than anyone, losing sucked. So he took the chance, grabbing his phone and shooting you a text he’d been waiting to send.

Doors open in Calgary.

and I’m so fucking proud of you.

It was the very last text you saw before you went to bed that night, tossing and turning for a few hours thinking about that loss. You couldn’t stop, every bone in your body was aching and you didn’t know what to do. So you bought a flight, packed your shit and was walking down the hallway to Matthew’s apartment without a second thought. You’d left him on read, calling Brady in the middle of the night and asking for his address, who gave it to you reluctantly with a reminder that if you needed to see him this badly you should rethink the needing time thing.

Matthew let out a groan when he had a bang at his door at three in the morning. Noah definitely was trying to walk into the wrong apartment again, and Matthew was grouchy when he whipped his door open. Except it wasn’t Noah after he’d had too many. It was you, teary eyed with your shit in a suitcase and a broken heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” You admit, whispering something you never thought you’d say to anyone, “I just didn’t do enough-”

Matthew didn’t say a word, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and holding you as tightly as he could. You didn’t need to hear it from him, about how things were out of your control and you did your best. You didn’t want that right now, you wanted him, “Baby…”

“Everything hurts,” You whimper, finally just letting it all out. You were bruised and battered from the season, the physical pain alone was enough to upset you, let alone the loss you just took. Matthew carded his fingers through your hair, letting you soak his bare chest with your tears because he wouldn’t have it any other way. You came back to him. You came back to him when things got too tough because you trusted him to bring you some peace, and he was happy about it.

You passed out sometime after that, your tears finally running dry and the exchaustion taking over your body. Matthew woke up early the next day, grateful for the optional morning skate so he could stay with you for just a little bit longer. The sun was just starting to peek through the curtains in his room, a calm snowy morning in Calgary so the city was just a bit quieter. 

Matthew settled on breakfast, working away in his kitchen with the only thing he knew how to make. Tell her you made it, his mom’s words from just a few months prior in his head while he cooked. You padded out his bedroom, one of Matthew’s god awful beer shirts hanging from your frame while you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his back, “It’s cold here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Matthew hums, internally pumping his fist when he felt your lips form a smile against his skin. You turned your head, pressing your cheek against his against and letting out a laugh, “What’s so funny?”

“You framed my jersey?” You ask, your eye catching a jersey that was way too familiar. It was hung up beside Matthew’s from his first all star game, both number nineteens staring back at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite player,” Matthew hums, a blush covering his cheeks, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You keep saying that,” Matthew finally turns around, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

“I’ll keep saying it long after we both retire,” Matthew speaks, words clear and sure because he’s had plenty of time to practice this one, “I’ll say it when you win a World Cup gold, I’ll say it when we have kids, I’ll say when you play at the Olympics. I’m going to say it over and over again.”

“But…” You trail off, all of those same demons you’d been fighting when it came to your whatever this was with Matthew, “What I’m not around enough for you?”

Matthew knew what you were thinking about, he’d thought about it plenty too. There were countless sleepless nights where all he did was wonder if you’d find someone in Chicago who could support you better than he could. He’d do his best, he swore he would, but in order for you to be happy, your passion came first. There was always going to be times when he couldn’t be there and it killed him.

“You’re more than enough,” Matthew promises, his lips ghosting over yours, “I want you to seize every opportunity in the world, I just want to be there to tell you that I love you and use the goat emoji on Instagram when you do.”

You let out a laugh, Matthew’s smile wide enough to see his dimples you loved so much, “I think I want to stay a little while.”

“I think you should,” Matthew agrees, capturing your lips in his, “Besides I’m playing tonight and I think I need to show off now.”

“You’re a cocky asshole.”

“But now I’m your cocky asshole.”

***

One year Later

You had a good reason to be late.

You swore Matthew couldn’t possibly be mad at you for this one. You’d missed your flight to Calgary, a few days post a second loss in the semi finals that you’d been taking much better this time around. Mainly because Matthew wasn’t there, but his stupid smile and words of encouragement where there on facetime hours later. That wasn’t the reason you were late, the reason you were late was because you’d received the most insane news of your life and it was an important phone or that flight. You’d caught the next one, legs shaking not to just call him and share the news, but you needed to tell him in person.

You’d finally gotten by the doors to the locker room entrance, out of breath from spriting there from your cab. There was Matthew, tapping his phone and staring at the clock on his phone with furrowed eyebrows. He was still in his suit, tie pulled a little looser, a nervous habit you realized he had some time ago, “Matty-”

“Don’t call me that just because you know you’re late,” Matthew huffs, already ready for the pout that would have followed so he’d forget all about the fact that you promised you’d make it on time. He holds his hand out, waiting for the handshake he made up in the car on the way to the first game you went to after he finally locked it down. You laugh, slapping your hand against his and letting him pull you closer for a kiss.

“They want me on the National Team,” You mumble against his lips, the words spilling out of your mouth when you pull away with an excited smile. Matthew stood there stunned, while you shuffled your feet in the little dance you did when you were really happy. He grabs your cheeks, pressing kisses to your lips again and again.

“We’re celebrating after this, holy shit,” Matthew cheers, still stunned by your news, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, now go score a few goals so we have even more to celebrate,” You kiss him one more time, pushing him before the door before he was late.

“Anything I do seems unimportant now!” Matthew calls out, a light laugh to his voice as he watched you walk away to go sit in the stands.

And that’s how Matthew thought it should be.

[dadsbongos]

the lov beach episode hori's too scared to give us

Movie/Game/Show: My Hero Academia Dynamic: League of Villains/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: uhh idk actually, dabi's kinda horny ig, i don't usually include this as a warning but swearing (there's quite a bit of it), feminine pronouns Summary: this is just 1860 words of me shutting my eyes, plugging my ears and ignoring the current state of the manga (: (beach episode type beat) ~~~

Pulling the large sun hat tighter on her head, (Y/n) looks over as her leader strolls up to the van Spinner had stolen earlier in the day. She quirks a brow at the man, putting a gentle hand over his handheld and pushing it down when he doesn’t notice her, “That’s what you’re wearing?”

Tomura huffs and steps back, narrowed eyes focusing on his black jeans and hoodie, “What’s it to you?”

“You’re wearing a hoodie in this heat, first of all, and also - it says ‘12 year old in gaming mode’, you’re asking to get bullied.”

“Yeah, well,” he grumbles as he tries to find an insult for the woman before resigning himself to mumble out a, “you look like you raided a college chick’s closet” while returning to his game.

“I think she looks great!” Twice piped up from inside the large van before yelling once again, “Absolutely hideous!”

Dabi nodded slightly from his window seat, pulling the strings of his hood so as few inches of his face as possible were showing, “I agree with him.”

“Which part?” (Y/n) crossed her arms, shooting the man a glare.

“Yep.”

“Dickface,” she hissed, reaching up to swat at Dabi’s arm through the rolled down window before turning to climb into the van, “A dickface who is also wearing a black hoodie in this heat. You two are actual nutjobs.”

“Van’s got AC,” Dabi shrugged off her concerns, still not even looking her way as she settled into the seat between him and Twice, “Didn’t know you cared so much, doll. Pretty sweet of you.”

“If you pass out from a heat stroke, I’m not the one taking you to the hospital,” she leaned over into the midrow seats of the van to glare at Tomura as he sat down, “That goes for you, too.”

“I’m not the one with a fire Quirk.”

“Just get Himiko some blood and she’ll take ‘em in all disguised! Let them die!” Twice pitched in with his own ideas, earning a shoulder pat from the woman.

“Good ideas, big guy, I like them.”

“Rude ass,” Dabi kicks at (Y/n)’s leg.

“I’m your boss, if you let me die you’re fucked.”

“Nobody’s dying on this trip, what the fuck are you guys talking about?” Spinner already appeared exasperated with the group and he’d barely been in the car for a second.

Compress got into the passenger seat as Spinner buckled into the driver’s side, he looked around before noticing an absence, “Where’s Toga?”

Suddenly, the door to Tomura’s seat is lugged open with a force, an overly excited blond teenager jumping over her boss and into the open seat beside him.

“You could’ve just gotten in on the other side,” Tomura clenches a fist to keep himself from slapping Himiko’s arm and causing a deathly accident.

“I didn’t know which side you were sitting on, so I just guessed!” Himiko giggles as Spinner starts the car.

“Asshole,” Tomura shakes his head, “This trip is pointless.”

“Kurogiri wants us to bond and stop fighting all the time,” Compress cuts in, “That’s why I’m in charge.”

“We’re adults- " (Y/n) interrupts herself, “Dabi, roll up the window, we’re pulling out of the safe zone.”

Dabi merely keeps his eyes closed behind his sunglasses and presses his head back against the neck rest of his seat.

“Roll up the window.”

“God, these winds are fuckin’ noisy, huh?”

“I hear ya, man!” Twice shouts before shaking his head, “Dabi, be nice to (Y/n). She’s your elder.”

“By a fucking year! Man, fuck you, Dabi,” the woman reaches over and presses the button to roll up the window herself, “Motion sickness or not, you don’t get to be a douche.”

“It’s actually exactly what it means, doll. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Stop calling me doll.”

“Ugh,” he grins at his own upcoming remark, “the princess makes a harsh demand.”

“I’m this close,” she pats his chest to make sure he opens his eyes before holding her index finger and thumb nearly pinched together in front of his face, “to beating your ass.”

“Here,” he reaches up and takes her fingers and clenches them together, “now you have to. As soon as we get to the beach, you have to fight me or else you’re a coward and a liar.”

(Y/n) grits her teeth and snaps her eyes shut, “I’m gonna lose it,” she leans into Twice’s side and looks up at him, smiling at the slightest hint of a concerned look behind his mask, “How’ve you been, big guy?”

“Perfectly fine!” he shakes his head before whispering, “I didn’t piss before we left and now I regret it.”

“Aw, want Spinner to pull over?”

“I think he’ll crash the car if I ask.”

“He’d be killing himself too, so I don’t think he’d be too cool with that.”

Twice quiets down as he notices the woman’s eyes beginning to flutter shut with drowsiness. Then, a sense of guilt beats at him as he sees the serene expression crossing his friend’s face. So calm and sweet - he truly adored his friend, and he wanted to do right by her. So, leaning down, he murmurs, “Sorry for calling you old.”

(Y/n)’s eyes dart open and immediately find Twice, she raises a brow at the man and shakes her head as her eyes slowly begin closing again, “I… it’s fine, dude, don’t worry about it.”

Dabi, as usual, is quick to jump into a conversation that was never his, “Old lady tempers, gotta be careful around them.”

“I swear to fucking God, Dabi!”

“What? What do you swear?”

“Shut the hell up!” Spinner snapped at children in the back seat, “You’re distracting me, loud asses.”

“Dabi started it!”

“I’m ending it!”

“Stop yelling,” Tomura commanded the group, carefully stuffing his handheld into his large front hoodie pocket and resting his head back, “I’m going to sleep and if I get woken up, I’ll kill you all.”

None of them believed him - not at all - but out of an odd respect for their leader’s need for rest, they stayed relatively silent as he slept. Murmurs and whispers being the loudest volume of their voices as Tomura snoozed in the van.

Eventually, Spinner came to the reserved spot on the beach that Kurogiri definitely didn’t hire people to kill civilians over. Himiko leaned over and gently shook Tomura awake as Compress popped the trunk to the van. (Y/n) shifted toward Dabi to ensure he was also awake and starting to feel less queasy before getting out of the middle seat so he and Twice could exit.

“Alright, there’s changing rooms…” Compress trailed off, looking around before sighing, “Nowhere in sight.”

“I’m already fine,” (Y/n) waved off, grabbing towels and an umbrella from Spinner, “You guys can take turns changing in the van while I set shit up.”

“I call first!” Himiko cheered, excitedly bouncing back into the van as the men all walked off to provide the teenager the privacy and distance she needed.

(Y/n) did as she’d said and began laying down towels and propping up parasols in the sand to provide shade. As more and more of her friends collected themselves along the beach, she spotted her almighty leader once again making a fashion mistake.

Bright, neon green and orange striped swim trunks hung over his hips and he didn’t avoid the woman’s stare. She purses her lips, “Who the hell goes clothes shopping for you? They shouldn’t be making executive decisions like this.”

Tomura shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?! Shigaraki, you have to be fucking with me.”

“I’m not,” he sits down on a towel under the parasol’s shade and returns to his gaming, “It’s probably Kurogiri but it isn’t like I ask him.”

“Holy shit. You’re an actual man-child.”

“Oh no, what gave me away?” he sarcastically whines, rolling his eyes at her.

“You being shameless about it is slightly worse…”

“(Y/n)!” Himiko cheerily calls, “Come join me in volleyball!”

“Is Twice playing?”

The blond looks over to the man in question and nods in approval.

“Are Quirks allowed?”

Another nod.

(Y/n) pats Compress’ shoulder, “I’ll let you take this game.”

Dabi comes up from behind while Spinner serves the ball on the beach, he’s removed his hoodie and now only rests in loose shorts that come to his knees and a white shirt. He scratches the back of his head in an uncharacteristically unnerved manner, “Not swimmin’?”

He earns a small shrug in response from the woman, “I’m not all too committed to the idea. At least not now.”

Nodding slowly, Dabi sits down at the edge of the towel unoccupied by Tomura and begins pulling at the fraying threads.

Sighing to herself, (Y/n) is slightly ashamed at how easily her heart softens upon noticing how uncomfortable Dabi seems. He doesn’t usually show as much skin as he is - which isn’t much - and he doesn’t usually throw himself into events where he’d be forced to interact with the others. He feels naked on the beach and he’d rather be dead than continue to suffer this embarrassment. And so, a body comes down onto the towel with his.

“Want company, misery?”

“Baking to death in the sun couldn’t get worse, even if it’s with you,” Dabi leaned back to rest against the woman’s legs.

“Wow,” (Y/n) fauxly gasped, sarcasm ripe in her words, “You being sweet? I never thought I’d never see the day.”

“Right? Thought I’d be dead by now,” his head tips back even more to lay it’s full weight on her legs, “You’re comfortable to rest on, old lady.”

“I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.”

“You still owe him an ass-beating from the car ride,” Tomura jumped in, a snarky smile on his lips as he spoke.

“I’m starting to think you won’t actually beat my ass,” Dabi grins smugly, “Like me too much.”

“I would destroy you in a fight, Dabi.”

“Hm, well, until you stop being a pussy and actually fight me, doesn’t sound like that’s the truth.”

“I swear to- " (Y/n) loudly huffs and cuts herself off before groaning, Dabi- "

“I’m no God,” Dabi paused to wink like the cheap bastard he is, “Unless you want me to be.”

Before the woman can respond, there’s a “heads up!” shouted by Himiko and a volleyball is hurtling towards the arguing duo. Tomura immediately leans over, not quite paying attention and sticks a hand out to block the ball, accidentally decaying it in the process. The leader comes to a stand and tosses up his hands, “What the shit, Toga?”

“Man,” the teenager whined, stomping her foot in the sand, “you destroyed the ball.”

“You almost destroyed (Y/n)’s face!” Tomura's voice quiets and softens to avoid upsetting the young girl over a mistake, “There’s probably another ball in the trunk.”

“I said ‘heads up’,” Himiko rolled her eyes, sending Twice off to find the spare volleyball in question.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, “Oh, so all better, then?”

“Exactly!”

“No! That’s not how that works, Toga!”

Dabi snickered at the back-and-forth before giving a mock dreamy sigh, “Ahh, the sound of Kurogiri’s bonding plan working perfectly.”

[uppermocns-moved]

if you’re taking requests maybe roadtrips with eren, jean, armin and connie?

road trips

oh my god this is the greatest idea i’ve ever heard. 

eren, jean, armin, connie + road trips

(going on a road trip with all four of them at the end)

cw: fairly gender-neutral, modernverse, weed references

𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻 𝗷𝗮𝗲𝗴𝗲𝗿

eren insists on driving the whole time, no matter how long the trip is.

his phone is plugged into the aux because “my car, my rules” but he doesn’t complain when you unlock his phone and start picking songs. 

forcing him to pull into a drive-through so he can eat real food, not just the 44 oz of mountain dew and monster energy he got from the gas station before you left.

hand-feeding him french fries.

playing i spy when it’s too dark to see anything, or on long highway stretches where the scenery doesn’t change. 

“i spy... something blue.” “is it the sky?” “you’re so good at this, babe.”

it’s very easy to talk him into impulsive detours, even if they’re in the opposite direction – he may be the one driving, but he’s relying solely on you for instructions. just tell him where you’re going and he’ll take you there.

“___ is only a two hour drive from here! we should go!” “yeah? okay.” 

driving with the windows down and enjoying the cool nighttime air.

car-camping in national parks – putting the seats down in the back and throwing together your bed for the night, sitting on the hood of his car to look at the stars with no light pollution, getting baked and watching a dumb show off his phone before going to sleep. 

at this point, eren realizes he forgot to pack his phone charger so you’ve gotta share.

getting breakfast together. eren’s not a morning person, but he can’t be grumpy when you’re looking so cute and sleepy in one of his hoodies. 

eren driving with one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours, occasionally lifting it up for a kiss as a silent thank you for being there with him. as if you’d dream of being anywhere else. 

𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗸𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗶𝗻

listening to the radio to keep things spontaneous, usually the classic rock stations. 

jean taking his hands off the wheel because he needs to air-bass along.

listening to true crime podcasts when the radio cuts out – it’s funny watching jean’s face twist up in disgust during crime scene details, and sometimes he yells in response as if the podcasters can hear him. you also play detective about who you think did it – loser buys food at the next stop. 

music keeps things energetic at the start, but podcasts keep his mind stimulated when he’s been driving for a while. 

the original plan is to split the driving, but you end up falling asleep with your face smushed against the window and jean doesn’t have the heart to wake you up. he doesn’t mind driving the rest of the way.

stopping for food every couple of hours to make sure you’re both eating properly, not just snacks. you do have plenty of snacks, though. 

jean going "uh – excuse me” whenever you open a bag of something and sticking his hand out. he’s like a dad, he always needs a handful of whatever you’re having. sharing is caring. 

jean always packs a lot of unnecessary things, and he will reserve the right to say i told you so when his double-hammock comes in handy.

limited stops along the way (minus food/gas/bathroom) – getting there relatively early means you can relax in the hotel room and maybe explore/go out for dinner later that night.  

when you take over driving, jean is a big window-watcher and takes a lot of pictures of the mountains/scenery. 

already making plans on cool things you can do on the way back, when you have no time restraints – day trips, scenic rest stops, hikes, etc. 

𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘁

stopping at a starbucks first-thing to get drinks for the road (he makes sure to get some food too so you’re not just running off a venti iced coffee)

splitting the driving – armin is the better (and calmer) navigator so you usually take the first and final shift. 

dozens of cute polaroids to put in your adventure scrapbook

researches fun (and romantic) things you can do when you get to your destination and reads them aloud to you. you come up with a plan together. that waterfall hike sounded really fun. 

armin takes lots of videos because he likes making little montages for his socials

you’re in control of the music. armin likes when you show him new artists – he’ll slowly nod his head along and inevitably add the songs to his spotify. he really likes snail mail. 

he takes over driving when you get tired – he likes holding your hand when he drives, or sometimes you’ll lean over and rest your hand on his thigh.

armin trying not to melt when you put on one of his hoodies for warmth – you have your own, but his are comfier and they smell like him. 

silly games to pass time like i spy or looking for different license plates. it’s fun until armin gets clever and spies things like the mile marker from 10 miles back. 

you insist you aren’t going to fall asleep because you wanna keep him company, but you end up curling into your pillow and dozing off mid-conversation. it’s adorable, and he doesn’t mind. he’ll usually turn on a podcast or an audiobook. 

armin stays awake the whole time but it catches up with him once you reach your destination – all he wants to do is cuddle and rest up

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿

leaving a day in advance or very early in the morning because you stop at every tourist attraction along the way.

scenic lookout? let’s go there. world’s biggest ball of yarn? fuck, count me in. meteor craters? already merging onto the exit. dinosaur bones? you read my mind. 

picking up cool souvenirs along the way like geodes and stickers to put on his water bottle. maybe a funky lil alien to hang from the rearview mirror, along with his 20 tree air fresheners. 

taking cute, cheesy pictures of and with each other – connie posing with his arms out like he’s holding the mountain, standing in front of national park signs, etc. 

you collaborated on a road-trip playlist in advance (it’s 12 hours long)

somehow you end up listening to veggie tales or absolutely losing it until the car starts rocking to britney spears

"i love this song” to every song, as if he didn’t put it on the playlist 

listening to connie sing along and butcher all the lyrics. impressive falsetto, though. 

arsenal of snacks – more than you realistically need

screaming every time you see a new “welcome to ___” sign

“WELCOME TO ___!” “WOOOOOO!”

connie rocking the socks with slides. it’s comfortable. 

pulling through drive throughs every once in a while for food, continuously forgetting to throw out the trash bag from your last stop. 

𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺

stopping at the gas station to fill up the gas tank and stock up on snacks for the road – almost everything from the candy aisle, giant bags of doritos, slushies, energy drinks. nobody really thinks to get actual food.

the driving is split between eren “i’m serious, pull the fucking car over or i’m gonna piss myself, jean” jaeger and jean “eren stop honking my fucking horn, traffic won’t go any faster” kirstein. armin is the navigator because they’ll both get everyone lost.

everyone has their turn with the aux cord – until connie cracks himself up playing the same song over and over, then you have to pry it from eren’s cold, dead hands.

so many pictures

impulsive stops at tourist attractions.

playing dumb games to pass the time (quickly turns into replacing one word on each sign with “poop” because they’re all a bunch of children).

finally stopping at a diner later that night for real food

making it to the campsite and setting up tents and hammocks

getting baked around the campfire and telling spooky stories

connie complaining and scaring himself while he wanders off into the dark forest to find a spot to piss

smores (ofc)

going on group hikes and jumping into lakes/down waterfalls together. video of jean belly-flopping.

[bigskydreaming]

Headcanon that everyone within the family may think of Dick as the one most in their father’s favor, but Dick is keenly aware that the general public thinks of him as their father’s ‘Consolation Prize.’

After all, when from their perspective he’s the one Bruce raised since he was eight as his ward, with that dissolving when he was eighteen and very little perceived contact between the two of them for years after that, while Jason was adopted soon after being taken in and Dick was then later adopted years after Jason’s death, without any public fanfare.....

What does that look like other than Bruce ‘settling’ for the son who didn’t appear to be his first choice, just chronologically first, once he lost Jason but still needed/wanted an heir, as he was getting older and the general public still didn’t know yet how closely tied Tim was to the family or that it wouldn’t be long after this that Bruce adopted him too?

Now granted, you can definitely perceive the above as overly angsty and not the only way this situation was likely to be perceived outside the family, but my point is more that like.....nobody ever presumes that the general public are overly kind or generous in their views or assumptions about the Wayne family behavior. I just don’t buy that people assumed there was some optimistic explanation for the way things appeared here, or that people just went “oh its probably because the kid who grew up in that house the longest just doesn’t WANT to be adopted by the billionaire and have all the security that brings, and that’s also clearly why he lives in Bludhaven of all places and a shitty apartment building at that.”

I mean, no matter what WE the readers may know of Dick’s personal priorities and how little he cares about where he lives or that Bruce would have willingly paid for him to have a better place to live if he really wanted it, is that what people are most likely to assume, based on appearances?

Anyway, I’m just saying, I bet it bugs the crap out of Dick to hear his siblings casually refer to him as so obviously enjoying favored son status and being the clear apple of Bruce’s eye, as he’s like, cue internal monologue: gee, sure wish I was as confident of that back during the years he seemed to want nothing to do with me.

Like I’ve said before, I think Dick isn’t actually super insecure and his insecurities such as they are mostly revolve around how his family and friends perceive him, not the general public.....BUT I do think that with as high profile as the Waynes are, there’s no way that nobody picked up on how little contact Dick and Bruce had in the continuities where they literally went over a year without even speaking to each other....and like, felt free to draw their own conclusions.

 And I do think this is also part of why I default to thinking a lot of canon takes and headcanons tend to gloss over how shitty Gotham public could be in their views/treatment of Dick. Like just because Dick was basically trained from birth to be able to work a room and entertain people while in their direct presence, that didn’t actually make him ‘one of them’ in their eyes, and I reeeeeeaally don’t think you can actually underestimate the pettiness and jealousy one percenters feel when they see someone they inherently view as lesser than them - as they would’ve viewed both Dick and Jason due to their lower class births - like....’leap frogging’ over them into greater wealth via being taken in by Bruce. 

Like, idk, maybe it just comes from having been a scholarship kid who went to a richy rich private high school attended mostly by the children of senators and hotel-chain owners, lol, but like.......I can not for a second picture Gotham’s upper class actually LIKING Dick or being as charmed by him as they frequently are depicted as, just because Dick knows how to be charming and likable. Like they might play it that way when in public at a gala, for appearances or whatever....but the second he turned around they’d be badmouthing him at juuuuust a high enough volume to ensure he’d be able to HEAR them but not be able to call them on it without it looking like he went back and provoked a scene over something ‘nobody else around them heard them say’ or whatever. Just to make sure that no matter how well he came across in public social settings, he never ‘forgot his place’ or whatever or forgot that they were all too aware of it too.

And also also, it always kinda bemuses me that as much focus as the Court of Owls and Talons get in Dick’s narratives in canon and fic, that we’ve barely ever seen any examination of what the Court retroactively means for Dick’s years growing up around upper class Gothamites who likely included more than a few Court members.....like, we KNOW years later that like, all along there were these people who even without knowing who Batman and Robin were, like, knew Dick Grayson was their ‘Gray Son’ and intended to claim him as their weapon someday, and you can’t tell me that wouldn’t have factored into how they viewed and interacted with a child and teenage Dick Grayson as they attended many of the same social gatherings and functions. OR that Dick himself in the aftermath of the Court of Owls reveal, didn’t look back at his OWN childhood and reflect on how many creepy or uncomfortable encounters he had with various socialites that left him feeling decidedly skeeved out and not a fan of how they were looking at him or things they might have said to him, thinking themselves oh so clever for alluding to things he had no idea about......like, I imagine there had to be more than a few encounters from his younger years that always stuck with him, and after the Court of Owls revelation like....looked TOTALLY different to him, especially if he happened to know for sure that some of those very people were in fact Court members. BUT I DIGRESS.

All in all though it all circles back to the same thought for me.....people might have been polite to Dick’s face when he was growing up, but they most likely had plenty of shit to say the second his back was turned, and I doubt they were afraid to be overheard by him. Especially in his later years, once people noticed how distant he and Bruce seemed to be, and thus perceived that as meaning that nineteen year old Dick Grayson wasn’t as ‘protected’ by Bruce the way he was when he was younger.....meaning the people who were most jealous of Dick’s ‘catapulting’ up the social ladder and eager to knock him down a peg because of that, like....probably would have looked at the relative lack of contact between he and Bruce as far as anyone could publicly tell, and felt emboldened enough by that to up their snide whisper game with shit like gossipping about how oh, the Grayson boy may be back in Gotham again, but we all know he’s just poor Brucie’s consolation prize anyway, why, if he really cared all that much about the boy, he’d hardly have ever let him run off to Bludhaven of all places, without even making sure to staple the advantages and opportunities granted by the Wayne name to him the way he made sure to right off the bat with the younger one.....

So yeah. There’s my angsty musings on how Dick likely is perceived by Gotham public at large, and how his interactions with them - especially when NOT around Bruce and Jason and the rest of his family....probably very much does not match up with what they assume public perception of Dick is, given that in their eyes ‘everybody loves Dick Grayson,’ but in Dick’s experience ‘everybody may be charmed by Dick Grayson while he’s doing his best to be charming,’ but don’t mistake that for acceptance. Not when Gotham’s public are just as likely to dismiss him as the second choice Wayne heir and consolation prize to make themselves feel more important/elevated than him the second their own insecurities have them feeling intimidated by the wealth, power and prestige Dick does actually share in by virtue of being part of Bruce’s family.

[ellana-ravenwood]

“Mom got lost again” - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Little snippets about how “Batmom” (reader) will never find her way in the Mansion. But it’s fine, really, because she can always count on her husband and children to “save” her.  //DRABBLE

So. I was watching one of those “Architect’s digest” video on YouTube where they visit houses that are millions and millions of dollars worth, and besides the fact that I was thinking “wow look at all those beautiful things I’ll never be able to afford”, I couldn’t shake another thought off…and that was that I would totally get lost in many of those houses. Like, the way some are designed, they’re literally Dedalus’ labyrinth my dudes. So anyway, here’s not-really-a-fic-nor-a-drabble for you, a sort of snippet kind of thing, about this. Hope you’ll like it : 

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

Before the kids

“Hey Alfred, where’s (Y/N) ?”

He asks, one early evening as he just got home from work and knows you were going to meet up with him at his place.

“Oh Lady (Y/L/N) wanted to go see the library, so I took her there.”

“Thank you.”

Bruce arrives in the library, but you’re nowhere to be found. Wondering where you went he calls you but it seems like your cell don’t have any battery anymore. He starts to walk around the West Wing, looking in every room and…Finally, he finds you.

You’re sitting down against a wall in the corridor, looking discouraged, staring at your dead phone. You spot him and jump to your feet, looking very relieved. You then rush in Bruce’s arms, he catches you in extremis and you exclaims :

“Oh my god ! Bruce ! I love you !”

Insert a lot of kisses on his cheeks a really huge hug, as if you haven’t seen him in ages. But I mean, getting lost any place is sort of distressing, and you looooove that man. So much.

A little confuse, although always happy to have your affection, he asks : 

“What…is going on ?”

“I got lost…”

“You got lost ?”

"You have a very big house.”

Highly amused, Bruce responds : “I do.”

“So I got lost.”

“Ah. And what were you doing sitting there ?”

“Well…My parents always taught me to stay where I was, if I ever got lost somewhere, so when they’d came to look for me we’d be sure to see each others instead of passing right next to each others a thousand times…”

Bruce can’t help but burst out in laughter. Even more so that you genuinely looks like a kid that got separated from her parents. And oh, oh you love his laughter. 

It’s always a feat, when you can hear it. Especially when it comes from the heart like right now, when he genuinely laughs this deep beautiful laugh, because he’s happy. Because you make him happy. 

He’s not laughing at you, he just laughs because...You’re too much sometimes. 

And exactly what he needs. Too much is good, for a man like him.

He takes your hand and shows you around one more time. 

But he can see that even so, you can’t seem to remember the layout of the house, and you getting lost will happen again for sure. 

And he’s right. He showed you around his manor so many times, yet it seems you just can’t remember certain places. Like you memorized the places you go the most, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, access to the Batcave...and most of the time you find your way around easily (albeit sometimes still a little lost). 

But there’s entire areas of the house you try not to venture in or...it ends with Bruce coming to your rescue. Or Alfred. But he usually leaves Bruce to do it, as the man just...loves the way you two love each others. 

It’s always rather cute. And it warms the butler’s heart. 

Never in his wildest dream would he ever have thought that his Master Bruce would find someone like you. Someone accepting and understanding, and loving him unconditionally. And someone that Bruce loved fully in return, and whom he cherished above all. 

Yes. Alfred often let Bruce go on the hunt for you across the Manor, simply because he shipped you both since the very first time he saw you together, and he thoroughly enjoyed when his Master Bruce was acting like a lovesick puppy around you. When he was acting like a “normal” man, just hopelessly in love with his wife. 

And it was so pure, and beautiful.

So what if sometimes you’d wait a little long, lost in those endless corridors ? Alfred knew that Bruce would find you. Always. And that when he did, as usual, you would make Bruce’s heart melt, and he’d feel happy just by seeing you and...honestly it was all wort it. 

Bruce sometimes suspect you do it on purpose. That you get lost just so he can find you. And honestly ? He really doesn’t mind... 

Saved by the little bird

"Over a year of living here, I swear I still can’t...where...wait, didn’t I just pass this damn yet-again-another-living room ?! Aaaah what the fuck why is everything looking the same. Fucking shit. What a shitastrophy. Fucking cockburger son of a bitchtits little f-”

“Um...Are you ok, mom ?”

Oh sssshhhh...Alfred wouldn’t be happy with you for swearing around your young son. Dick was only eight, after all. 

He had started to call you “mom” since very recently, and it always made your heart skip a beat. Made you feel utterly happy. 

As the boy came in behind you from the corridor, you were about to kick a potted plant out of frustration (another thing that Alfred wouldn’t be very happy about). You turn around, slowly get your foot back on the floor, and say : 

“Um. I got um...Lost...” 

“Lost ?” 

“Yes...I just...can’t get used to the size of this house. I wanted to get something that Alfred said was in the East wing, which is somewhere I never really go. And um...”

“You got lost.”

“Yes. Don’t make fun of me ok, your dad is already enough.” 

“I wasn’t going to make fun of you !” 

Your son says, a little virulently, as if offended you’d ever think such a thing ! You smile at him, because how sweet could this kid get really ? 

“Alright little buddy, sorry I ever made such an assumption. So, if you’re not gonna mock me...maybe you can save me then ?”

“Save you ?” 

“Well, I’m lost. And you don’t seem lost.” 

“That’s because I’m not, I always found my way out of the labyrinths in fun fairs very easily !” 

He tells you, smiling widely, excited at the prospect of helping you. 

“Where do you need to go ?” 

“Let’s try to get to the kitchen.” 

“I know the way ! Come on !” 

He takes your hand in his little one, and drags you behind him, leading you across corridors and rooms up until...

“Here !” 

He tells you, smiling widely. And it’s so cute, because he’s missing a few teeth and his smile is just so pure...You just want to squish his little face and hug him to death. 

“Ah my savior ! What can I ever repay you with ?” 

You ask, taking an overdramatic tone of voice, knowing little Dickie always loved when you two played pretend and such. He takes the gruffest voice he can and says : 

“Well, my lady can repay me with...um...Cookies, yes I think cookies will do !” 

“Cookies ? Well this sounds fair, for this dashing saving you just did ! Macadamia or chocolate chip ?” 

“Both ?” 

“Both it is !” 

It happened many times, that you paid your oldest son with cookies, after he saved you from getting lost in your own house...Even as an adult, he’d demand payment of fresh cookies, and then would go show them off to his siblings, refusing to share, as the “good” older brother he was haha. 

Lost together

You find Jason in one of the many gaming room, while you were trying to get to the kitchen. You know for a fact that there are no gaming rooms on the way to the kitchen, but you can’t really figure out where you messed up...Was it when you went left after the third bathroom ? Or when you took the stairs down right before one of the mezzanine ? Wait, did that mezzanine have a piano ? Because if it did then it was the right way, if it didn’t, then you were on the other side of the damn house. Or maybe just right next to...Yeah ok. Lost again. 

But you found Jason. 

Maybe he could help ? 

The boy was sitting in a huge comfortable leather armchair, reading a book. When he heard you come in the room, he snapped his head up and a huge smile illuminated his cute little face. 

“Finally ! Mom !” 

He jumps off the armchair, putting down his books, and goes to jump in your arms. Then he says : 

“I was trying to go to the arcade room ! Because I wanted to beat your high score on Tekken, but I always only followed someone there, and I can’t find it anymore...” 

Ah. The arcade. One of the only room you sort of knew where to find...If you started from the front door. Or your bedroom. Not from a random room god knew where in the mansion. 

Why was this house so big ??? 

“I’m sorry to bother you with this, I know I should’ve paid more attention when Alfred showed me, but it’s just-”

Oh no. Oh no the little one was looking at you worryingly, probably because you weren’t responding, and he thought he was being a pain. 

Little Buddy always thought he was bothering people...So hurriedly, you said : 

“Oh no no Jason, you’re not bothering me at all ! It’s just um..I’m um...I’m sort of lost too.” 

“You are ?”

“I am.” 

“Really ?” 

“Really.” 

“Well damn.” 

“Haha right ? Usually your father or Dick would save me. Or Alfred.”

“Yeah same.”

“I actually rarely walk around alone now that I think about it.” 

“Yeah same !”

There’s a short pause, where you look at each others and smile at this little moment. And then, as you slowly both realize that you’re lost, IN YOUR OWN HOME, and the ridiculousness of the situation down on you, you explode in laughter. 

You end up getting back to the armchair, and Jason settles comfortably in your lap as you continue to read the book he was reading, out loud, and he listens to you happily. Nobody ever really read him stories before you and Bruce... 

Bruce finds the both of you later in the day, fast asleep in the armchair, Jason latched on your arm as you hug him to you. 

He finds the sight so adorably charming. He sits down next to the two of you, enjoying this moment of quiet and peace. And then he picks up the book you were reading, reading it himself...Ah. It’s one of his favorite childhood book. 

He reads it, waiting for you two to wake up, not wanting to disturb your sleep. 

It’s rare, that he has some free time. And he really doesn’t mind spending it watching over his sleeping wife and son, waiting for them to wake up and guide their way back to the part of the house they know...

Damn. Damn he loves them so much. 

"I memorized the blueprints” 

“And see, here’s a secret passage !” 

The boy says excitedly, as he shows you and Bruce a hidden door in one of the wall, behind a heavy tapestry. 

“...Wait...I didn’t even know that was there...How did...What ?” 

Your husband asks, half-confused, half-impressed, with maybe a little hint of hurt pride in there as well...it’s his house after all. 

“I memorized the blueprints of the house that are in the library.” 

The little one says, smiling widely at his new father. Bruce responds : 

“I have those blueprints, I never saw this secret passage ever in my life.” 

“You must have the “official” blueprints, the one Allan Wayne gave to others. The blueprints in the library, the ones I found, were tucked away inside one of the book and showed more than the “official” ones. Your great-great-great-great-great grandfather was a very paranoid man, I assume he pulled a Madame Winchester on the builders.” 

“Madame Win...Huh ?” 

“You know, famous Winchester mansion ? Super haunted ? She gave instructions to many different people to build certain things and there isn’t really blueprints that shows a correct layout of everything ?”

“Right...Sure...” 

“I assume you were too busy building the bat cave to really pay attention to the house. But it’s quite a wonder ! There’s so many new secrets I haven’t discovered yet !” 

A soft, tender smile spreads on your husband’s face as he looks down at Tim. Bruce says : 

“That’s quite a discovery you found there my boy, and you say you memorized it already ?” 

“It was easy, I just had to keep in mind the-”

And then Tim started to get lost in long complicated explanation that you didn’t understand, while your husband seemed very interested. 

You couldn’t help but smile. How cute...

Today, you were sort of glad, that you got very lost in your own home again, and got saved by little Timmy. He hadn’t lived in the house for very long by that time, but already knew it even better than Bruce, apparently. 

It was so nice, to have such a sweet little on in your life again...Dick hadn’t been by in a while, busy with the titans. And Jason...

You didn’t want to think about Jason. 

Or at least, not in the way you would end up thinking about him. You wanted to remember his smiles, and how he always got lost too in this house. Not...Not...the broken body Bruce brought back...You...

You shooed the memory away, and focused on your son. 

Tim was now going on and on about how he found really cool places that weren’t on the normal blueprints, and how he wanted to show Bruce and you. 

And Bruce was smiling. For the first time in ages. Your husband was smiling, faced with such an excited little one. 

So yes. Yes, today you were glad you got lost in your own home, and that your tiny son found you and showed you the way. That it lead you to ask him how the hell was he that fast in memorizing the house’s layout, and then him explaining things about the blueprints. 

And consequently, how Bruce and him started to truly bond, started to talk about the house and about the Wayne legacy...

It was nice. To finally see your husband smile again. Propelled by a sudden surge of motherly love, you hugged Tim tight, and the boy, a bit confused at first, hugged you back without much questions. 

And this sight. 

His wife and his son hugging. 

It warmed Bruce’s heart in a way his heart hadn’t been warmed since he lost Jason. 

Yes. It was good, that sometimes you’d get lost in your own damn house. 

This is a fun game

By the time Cassandra came into your life, this “mom got lost again” thing became sort of a game. It was about who would find you first, when they realized you were lost. 

You’d be gone a little too long after saying : “I’m gonna go get the ice cream in the freezer”, and they knew. It was time to set a party to find you. 

“3, 2, 1...GO !” And they’d run in each different direction, searching for you. 

The winner gets cookies. Baked by you... 

Cass liked that game. 

Because even if she lost, she would’ve spend quality times with her family. Fun times. Looking for her beloved mother. 

Mother. 

The only mother she ever had. 

Mom. 

It’s a word that always easily rolled off her tongue. 

Mom. 

“Found, mom.” 

You jumped a little in the air, as your only daughter suddenly appeared out of nowhere. She was looking at you upside down, and it took you a little bit to realize she was actually dangling off in a very spider-man way off of the floor just above. She must’ve heard your footsteps (or more likely, your growls about being lost again). 

She jumped off, and you felt your heart stop, suddenly fearing she would fall down but..Not, she agilely jumps over the rail, and is in front of you, smiling. 

Finding you was Cass’ favorite game. Because when she did, you’d always look at her fondly, give her a hug, and praise her for being the best.

And for someone like Cassandra, who grew up treated like an emotionless machine by a man who never viewed her as more than a weapon...it felt nice, to have such a loving person in her life. 

When Cass thought of you, her mind filled with bright colors, and her heart with warmth. Because she grew up never learning how to speak, her thoughts didn’t quite work in words like most people, but in colors and temperatures. 

And you, you were reassuring colors and soothing warmth. 

Mom. 

Such a simple word. Yet it took her a while to be able to even say it. 

Now she could speak, in big thanks to you. And her father.

She loved you guys so much. So much. 

She loved you. 

“Mom.” 

She says, reaching a hand for yours. And you take it, smiling once more, shaking your head and apologizing that you made her look for you...Oh. 

Oh but she doesn’t mind. None of them do. 

Because when they find you. When they “save you”, you always look at them with such unconditional love. No matter what. 

Finding you is Cass’ favorite game. 

It always leaves her feeling nice and warm, loved and safe. 

Finding you is Cass’ favorite game. 

And one day, she’ll be able to tell you all of that. One day, she’ll be able to tell you to never apologize, because she loves to look for you. She loves you. 

One day. One day she’ll talk to you about all of this. 

But for now, it was fine for both of you that her feelings translated in only smiles, affectionate touch, and one very important word...

“Mom”. 

“I won’t let you get lost !” 

Damian hated the mere idea of you being in any kind of distress. 

ANY kind. 

So when he learned that you would often get lost in the Manor, and even as everyone assured him it just sort of became an inside joke within the family, your youngest son took it upon himself to make sure you’d never get lost again. 

He started to put up signs everywhere in the house, giving indications as to where you were and where was what. Detailed little maps, arrows and such. Drawn by himself. It took him WEEKS to finally cover the entire Manor. 

It’s something no one ever thought of before because...Although you often got lost, it was always nice to try and find you, and well, you would still know your way around the part of the house you’d most go to. 

In fact, when you got lost, it was often because you’d go in a wing you didn’t know much for whatever reason, and they’d know where to look for you. 

So they never really saw a reason to make signs telling you the right way. Or yeah, they never really thought about it. 

But Damian...Damian was set to make the house “lost proof”.

As a result, you definitely didn’t get lost as many times. Which was...nice ? 

But once, at dinner, Dick was reminiscing of that one time you got lost in the attic for some reason, and couldn’t find your way out, and him and Jason had to get you, and how they laughed a lot and you praised them for saving you...

And Damian grew quiet. And upset. When you asked him why, he refused to answer, but the next day, you ventured in a part of the house you rarely went to so you could go fetch something and...

All the signs telling you which way to go were gone. Which didn’t worry you much, you knew you’d be found by one of your family member before long, or would just find your own way out after a while. 

But it was odd nonetheless. 

It’s only when Damian found you, and “saved” you that you understood why the signs weren’t on anymore. 

Damian too, wanted to “save” you from getting lost. Wanted to laugh with you because it was silly that you got lost in your own house. Wanted you to bake him cookies as a reward for saving him. Wanted to share those bonding moments with you...

It was so cute, and showed how far Damian really went since Talia first dropped him on your door, that you couldn’t help but hug the hell out of your baby. 

He was a little embarrassed, but hugged you back nonetheless. 

Yes. Yes Damian had come along way, since he first came into your life. He learned how to love, how it felt to be loved, and how...how sometimes he would crave for your attention. 

And so he took down the signs. So he could save you. So he could share this with you, just like you did share those moments with all his other siblings. 

He took down the signs, because you getting lost was an important inside joke of this family...And because he was, now, part of this family. 

What even is this place...

Duke thought he would never EVER find his way back in this new house. 

His bedroom was in...east wing ? West wing ? ...SOMEWHERE. 

The first few days of living there were overwhelming, and he constantly had to make sure he wasn’t far from one of the other family member because he was so afraid to get lost. 

He couldn’t remember the right way to anywhere. This was all too big. 

He grew up in a small two bedrooms apartment, in the heart of Gotham’s sludge. He could find his way in this gigantic city easily, knew the place like the back of his hand but...

The Manor ? 

It was uncharted territory. In every sense of the term. 

First it was on the outskirt of Gotham, in the hills, a place he never set foot in.

And then the house, but also the land around it was bigger than his neighborhood ! It was so foreign for him... 

But he hid this well. He hid the fact he was overwhelmed well. And just made sure he’d always be with someone when walking around the manor. 

He tried to remember the way they took, he really did. But every time he thought he got it, they’d use another way and he was totally lost again. 

Alfred showed him around the first day, but it was too many informations at the same time. Him and his ADHD couldn’t process it.  

What would you guys say, if he mentioned he was getting lost in the house ? Surely, you’d mock him. Or just feel sorry for him ? 

He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to know. Acclimating to this new life was already hard enough, what with discovering his meta-powers, having to deal with what happened to his parents, and living in this all new environment. 

You made it comfortable and easy for him. You were just so welcoming and loving. But it was still hard...he was only a boy. 

And so he said nothing. And now...now, lost and walking through corridors that all looked the same, he dearly regretted it. 

He turned a corner, and...there you were. 

“Oh, hey Dukie”. 

He smiled shyly, afraid you would know he was lost, and said : 

“Hi.” 

“What’s up ?” 

“Nothing, I was going to- I was exploring the house.” 

He was about to say he was trying to get to the movie theater, where Damian  and Cass were surely waiting for him by that time, so they could watch a movie. But what if he was totally off ? Far from where the home cinema was supposed to be ? 

“Exploring the house” sounded like a safe thing to say. 

“Oh, careful not to get lost haha. Happens to me all the time...” 

Wait...What ? Were you joking ? He wasn’t sure. 

“Actually, I’m lost right now. I wanted to take a shortcut from the kitchen to the bat cave to see Bruce -I miss him- -Yeah I know only saw him couple of hours ago-, but I must’ve taken a wrong turn...Somewhere...”

You were holding your chin in your hand now, trying to remember where you could possibly have taken the wrong turn. And Duke realized you were serious.

“You’re lost ?” 

“Yeaaaah. Go ahead, you can laugh. I know I’d laugh at myself too haha. I just could...never quite figure out how this house worked ? I grew up in a one bedroom apartment, sleeping in the living room with my brothers. And then when I moved in on my own I had an even smaller place. So. It’s a change. Even after all those years I’m still not quite used to it.”

“Ah me too ! I mean, I just can’t figure out the layout of this place !”

“Ah ? Hey, for you too, sometimes you think you definitely know where you’re going and then you find yourself outside in the garden and you just have no idea how you got there ?”

“Yes !!!! I was sure of my way so many times but then one wrong turn and...here I am.” 

“Well Duke, believe me I get it. I get it haha.” 

You then proceeded to tell him all the most embarrassing stories of you getting lost, including that one time at a charity event held in your house, someone asked you to take them to a certain place, and your asshole of a husband let you do it just because he knew you wouldn’t find the way, and because you getting lost with their guest was the only fun entertainment of the night. 

And this. 

This simple shared thing, of you two getting lost...

It was amongst the first time Duke really felt home. Really felt like he wasn’t alone. 

Those past few days had been difficult for him. This was all so new. 

And yet, with a few smiles, silly stories and support..You made him feel like he was truly home. And he didn’t even notice the hours you two passed, sat on the floor in that corridor, before Bruce found you and took you back to where you initially wanted to go...   

Saved by the littlest bird

Thomas is about eight, and you’re about to have a heart pinching flashback as he’s going to remind you of your first baby...

Dick was going to be almost thirty, by then. He was married, and with a kid on the way (I’m not here for ship wars, you chose with who he is, wether it’s Babs or Kori, or whoever else). Oh, how long ago it was, that his little eight years old hand would hold yours to guide you across the manor...

Too bad. Because right now, you definitely needed some help navigating around. Lost again. Ugh. T’was getting old. 

“Mommy...You’ve been living in this house for over 15 years now, how can you still get lost ?” 

Your littlest baby. Thomas. Appearing from around the corner, and as he saw you, rolling his eyes like never before. Yet smirking, in a very “Bruce” way. Ah. Like father, like son. 

“...”

Is your only answer. 

You avoid his judging gaze, but did it in a way that was overdoing it, so he knew you were just pretending to be embarrassed haha. He rolled his eyes, and then takes out a walkie talkie and says : 

“I found her Damdam, she’s in the West Wing near one of the drawing room. Over.” 

“Ok, thanks little buddy, let’s meet up in the kitchen, over.” 

“Ok cool, be right there, over.” 

This little exchange made you smile, oh those two were very close. Well, all your children were close. But Damian and Thomas had a little something, because they were the youngest, and because Damian took to heart his big brother role. He was also the only one still living in the manor by that time, all your other children having their own place in Gotham, going to college or already working...a wave of nostalgia threatened to take over you, and you quickly thought of something else. 

“Little buddy”, Damian called Thomas. Copying you for sure. How cute.  

“Come on mommy, I’ll take you back to the kitchen. You can make us cookies then, yes ?” 

“Of course my baby, any flavor you want.” 

“Well Damian will surely want the white chocolate chip ones, so I’m good with those too.” 

Thomas was such a sweet consilient boy. He didn’t really mind anything, and would follow you guys anywhere...as long as he could be with his family, and enjoy their presence, he just never minded. 

He definitely had a stubborn and strong personality, but he was still oh so sweet. And nice. Even if he did mock you a lot for getting lost in your own home...

“Where did you get the walkies ?” 

“Dick gave it to me last time he came, so we could cheat at hide and seek. Don’t tell Tim.” 

You chuckle, imagining how nuts your kids would get because Dick always goddamn won...

Ah and of course Dick would give a talkie to his littlest brother. To be honest, Thomas reminded you of Dick in lots of ways. 

They were both gentle, funny, sweet and nice...with outburst of anger and pride sometimes. Ah quite like Bruce too. You loved them all so damn much. 

“Now come mom, I think dad will be home soon too ! We can watch a movie before the patrol ! With cookies !!” 

You smile, and you take your son’s hand. Your youngest boy. Reminiscent of when Dick used to do this. All those years ago. 

Reminiscent of a time you didn’t feel so weak... 

(I’M SORRY I HAD TO ADD THIS LAST LINE FOR IT TO FIT IN THE WORLD I SORT OF MADE !! If you know you know). 

And if you’re wondering who the hell Thomas is : Polichinelle, “Go away, you’re confusing my baby”, Shaky steps and bad teaching, Master of Diaper, How do you make babies ?, What it means to be a big brother - By Damian Wayne and After Batmom’s death)

Bonus : There’s a moment, in one of the video I watched, where the guy showing the house off is basically like : “You might think this is a beautiful dining room…but it’s not, it’s a breakfast room”, and I had random flashes of Alfred showing the manor to one of the kids, or even to Batmom as she first comes to the house, and him talking about the “breakfast room”, and the boys/Batmom just not being able to get over the fact there’s a room that exist just to eat breakfast in…(wait till they see the personal SPA floor uh). Only Damian would be like : “Tt. Only one breakfast room ?” XD. Anyway. I thought I shared, because it made me laugh to imagine how ridiculous Wayne Manor is. Wait worst, in one of the video the people living in it had a room bigger than my entire apartment that existed for the SOLE PURPOSE OF CUTTING BOUQUETS OF FRESH FLOWERS ??????? That I’m sure they wouldn’t have. I mean, a garden that Alfred would cherish, for sure. But...an entire room just to cut FRESH (the dude really put an emphasis on that) flowers...My guy...what...

_________________________________________________

Ok the end. Hope you liked whatever my thoughts were on this Saturday night. I didn't put as much effort in this as I usually do and wrote it rather fast, hope it’s still ok, I just wanted to share a little something that wouldn't leave my head up until I finally wrote about it :). 

PS : Also it’s all sort of a joke I thought about, I know most people would probably find their way after living for ages in the same place, but ah you get what I meant haha. Also I get lost in my own basement sometimes because of how the layout is, so ya know...hahaha. 

[mythiccheroacademia]

—“get your son/daughter” 

𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤: 𝕚𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕡𝕥. 𝟚 | 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖’𝕤 𝕡𝕥.𝟙 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜-𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Midoriya Izuku:

despite having two of the sweetest parents on earth, your son had a mouth on him

you didn’t know if it was bc he hung around his sailor mouth pomeranian looking uncle a lot or if it was the three inch growth spurt that got him feeling all big and bad

but you and your husband caught him illegally using his quirk outside of school and freaked

and apparently, your kid had gotten comfortable enough to say, “you guys are being so stupid about this”

that was how izuku ended up holding you back as you tried to look over his shoulders and let your son know what was on your mind 

“YOUR SON JUST CALLED ME STUPID AND YOU’RE JUST GONNA LET HIM GET AWAY WITH THAT!?”

“no of course not, honey! i just think you should calm down a little—”

“SO YOU SIDING WITH THE ENEMY??!!”

there was no use getting to you and so izuku pleaded, “S/N, apologize to your mother! now! please!!”

fed up, the boy goes, “urgh!! you guys don’t get it! how am i supposed to learn about being hero when all dad does is go on and on about all might? all might wasnt even that cool!”

izuku dramatically gasped and whipped his head around to stare at his son with shock

you even paused to let out a small gasp of your own

it was silent for a hot minute

then the young boy realized his mistake when his usually kind father narrowed his eyes in betrayl

“w-wait, i didnt mean that—“

midoriya released you and simply stepped to the side 

your son started shivering when he watched an evil smirk grow on your face 

“dad hold on—!”

“I’m going to go watch videos of my favorite uncool super hero” izuku huffed before leaving the room 

you slowly stalked towards your son

“so what was that you said about me being stupid?”

it was at that point that he knew he shouldve kept his big mouth shut

Kirishima Eijirou:

in kirishima’s eyes, his daughter could do no wrong 

ofc she had her moments, but overall, she was a bright, sunny, and happy kid that was too good and pure for this world

that’s why he always tried to ease down any punishments you gave her

but when she acted like this, kirishima knew it was either let you do what you needed to do, or stand in your way and get taken down with her 

bc even a 6′0+ man with 200lb+ of muscle like him could whither away from your glare

you didn’t get angry often, but when you did, shit was terrifying asf

so when you asked your daughter to hand over your phone and she smacked her teeth and threw it on the counter...

it was game over 

everyone in the room silently watched the phone clank around until it stopped

the room went quiet save for the ticking clock

your daughter’s eyes widened as she realized her mistake 

your head turned to your husband and kirishima felt sweat start to pool at his temple

you stared at him for a minute before calmly speaking 

“you have three seconds to get your daughter before i do bc i swear i will—”

that was all, eijirou needed to hear

“D/N, go to your room. you’re grounded for two weeks”

“yes, sir. also i’m sorry mom!” she quickly yelped before running upstairs

once she was gone, you let out a frustrated breath as he went up to you, attempting to quell your anger

you turned around to continue flipping through the TV and smacked your teeth before throwing the remote on the couch, too upset to find your fav channel

“I dont know where the hell she gets that attitude from, my goodness” you ranted

kirishima looked away in hoplessness as he rubbed your shoulders 

“yeah, no idea...” he chuckled

Sero Hanta: 

this was 100% inspired by that kevin hart tiktok audio

sero came home from a long day of hero work 

he was mainly on patrol but they had him swinging around every which way to cover an absent hero

he was annoyed and his elbows were sore 

all he wanted to do was stuff his face w some food, kiss his children goodnight, and curl up next to you until he was in dreamland

but you had different plans

the poor man didn’t even get a chance to take off his shoes before you bascially materialized in front of him looking like a bull ready to storm right through him

“hanta. i’ve had it up to HERE with that little boy! you better get em’!”

sero looks like a deer in head lights

“huh?”

“you just gonna him get away with talking to us like that?!”

“talk to us like what? nobody talked to me like anything!”

“all i know is, you better go in there and teach that boy a lesson!”

sero is literally on the verge of tears

“babe, what’s going on—”

before he could say anything more, you shoved the famous “beat-that-ass” slipper in his hand and left him fuming over whatever it was that made you angry 

hanta is speechless and can do nothing but stare after you until his oldest daughter walks by

she munches on a tangerine slice in her hand and gives him an empathetic pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the hallway 

he sighs 

he couldn’t get one day of peace huh?

sero catiously opens the door to his son’s room who is unsuspectingly playing his video game

the boy raises a brow. “oh hey papa. whats up?”

sero prays he forgives him

“listen son. i dont know why, but your mama told me i gotta beat your ass so imma do it before i get my ass beat”

minutes later your son comes ito you crying and rubbing his behind to apologize to you for slamming the door in your face and telling you to shut up 

sero can’t say he didn’t deserve it, but that was the most guilty ass whopping he ever gave

~~~

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[amortentiaparker]

be enough ⇒ p. parker

“Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”

summary: peter tries to break it off when spiderman gets in between your relationship.

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: just one f bomb and a few swear swords sprinkled in

A/N: my first peter oneshot <3 likes and reblogs are appreciated! also, please do not repost anywhere— even if you’ll give credit.

inspired by peace - taylor swift

High school is finally over and New York was surprisingly good to you. The weather reflects the warmth in your heart whenever you think about the days of freedom ahead. You weren’t worrying too much about college, in fact you were excited for the new journey that you were going to take. With Peter attending MIT, thanks to Tony Stark’s so called pull, and you attending Boston University in the fall, you two agreed to make the most out of New York during the summer; despite already having grown up in the city.

Today, you two were set to go to Coney Island. You and Peter prided in the fact that you were New York locals, knowing every nook and cranny of the often romanticized city.

But after watching a certain Olsen twins movie during the time when he forgot his Star Wars DVDs, you two decided that it would be fun to go exploring New York through the eyes of tourists. Just last week, he purchased matching I love NYC shirts for you and him from a vendor across Delmar’s, which earned him odd looks since the residents knew that he was definitely a kid of the city. 

The sky was clear and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, smile to yourself, and bask in the sunshine. You were waiting for Peter by your fire escape, knowing that he will still climb up even without his Spiderman suit. But you knew that he had it on him, no matter where he is or who he was with. 

You found out about his secret identity during junior year, even when you two weren’t together yet. You felt bad that you found out accidentally, through Ned who accidentally showed you a selfie of him and Peter wearing the suit sans the mask. You remembered how red Peter’s face turned and how Ned gave him a sheepish, apologetic smile. Turns out, Peter let it slip to his best friend that he was starting to develop feelings for you which lead to Ned playing wingman.

You felt bad that the discovery happened without it going according to Peter’s terms. His shocked face and stuttering left you wanting to pinch his adorable cheeks and assure him that nothing will change. But of course things did change- but for the better.

The two of you got even closer than before during junior year. By the end of the school year, you were sure that something was definitely there, so it was disheartening when you learned that you were off to some Mediterranean country for the first month of summer break. 

But even after everything, you treasured the summer time because it was when you came back from vacation with your family that Peter asked you to go on a date with him. 

And now here you were, nearly a year later, wearing a blue sundress similar to the one you wore on your first date with your favorite brown-eyed boy. The window to your bedroom was open, ABBA playing softly in the background, and the summer breeze gently blowing your hair to the side. It was serene. 

A ping! rang through the air.

Peter <3: you ready, pretty girl???

And within a second later, your boyfriend was already standing at your fire escape. You smiled at him and Peter returned the loving gaze. His eyes scanned you up and down which made heat rush to your cheeks. 

After grabbing your belongings from a nearby desk chair, you double checked if everything in your room was in place before taking Peter’s outstretched hand to help you out the window. When you two got off the stairs, you took it as the time to check Peter out, just as he did to you.

He looked very handsome in his white button up shirt, levi’s, and blue satin jacket. You smirked when it was his turn to blush and you tugged at his jacket to give him a small kiss on the lips. You intentionally opted to leave your jacket behind so he can give you his for when the summer night breeze settles in later. Peter nudged his nose with yours once your lips have separated. 

“You wore that on purpose.” You whispered teasingly as you tugged at the sleeve of his jacket; the shade similar to your dress.

“You wore that on purpose.” Peter repeated as his hand slightly pushed up the hem of your dress with the palm of his hand. 

You felt that familiar heat on your face return, so you decided to place your head against the crook of his neck and left a kiss by his sweet spot. Giggling, you pulled away when he groaned. 

“We’re gonna be late, pretty boy.” You grabbed his hand and proceeded to tug him along as you skipped down the pavement. 

Luckily, it was a weekday, meaning that even though it was a nice summer day, there weren’t many children around to wreak havoc on the amusement area. There were old couples, but there were also teenagers hanging out with their friends. You and Peter giggled to each other like children when you two recognized some younger students in Midtown that were obviously on their awkward first date.

“Ice cream or cotton candy?” He asks as he snakes an arm around your waist and places a chaste kiss on your shoulder. 

The two of you eventually got some ice cream on waffle cones, but that was after you spent your energy playing games and riding the attractions. You argued that Peter might throw up if you two got the ice cream right before getting on the cyclone. 

The sun has set by now, and the night sky is illuminated by the stars up above. Bright lights overpower the darkness, creating a glow on everybody’s faces. And as you expected, Peter’s jacket was now around your shoulders. It didn’t take a lot of convincing anyways, his heightened senses immediately noticing the goosebumps that littered your skin. 

You two walked hand in hand by the boardwalk, with his thumb occasionally rubbing circles on your knuckles- which the butterflies in your stomach went frantic for.

You two shared a giddy smile, as if an unspoken inside joke had just occurred, but you knew it was just Peter sensing the flips your heart is currently doing. In the back of your mind, there was a voice saying that he’d still know either way if he didn’t have his spidey senses. You found yourself giggling out loud at how adorably ridiculous “spidey senses” sounded. 

“Whatcha laughing at?” Peter playfully squinted his eyes at you. 

“Nothing.” You laughed even harder which caused your boyfriend to tug you closer to him. 

Peter raised his ice cream closer to your face and you squealed and tried to get free from his grasp. He was eating triple chocolate for god's sake! 

“Tell me,” He chuckled and brought the cone closer. “Or else.”

“Is that a threat, Spiderman?” You whispered the last bit. 

The grin on your boyfriend’s face widened and next thing you knew, you felt the cold touch your cheek. You gasped, but didn’t pull away. All you wanted was to listen to Peter’s contagious laugh forever.

The laughter died down, but a look of content washed over both your faces, a faint smile still painted on your mouth. 

Peter brought a thumb to wipe away the ice cream smudge on your cheek. It was as if time slowed down and he was the only thing on your mind.

He has consumed your thoughts and there’s not a day that goes by in which you don’t think about him. You can see that his hand still hovered over the side of your face and his eyes held a sparkle that not even the fireworks that were bound to go off later could match. I’m so in love with Peter, you thought to yourself. 

Pink blossomed across Peter’s freckled face and you knew that you had accidentally broadcasted your thoughts aloud. 

“I’m so in love with you too.” He said, voice soft- but you could hear it clearly above all the noise.

“We should go to the park.” You suggested. Peter knew exactly what you were referring to as he admired the dreamy gaze on your face. 

He nodded and laced your hands together once more. He placed a kiss on your forehead and you sighed in contentment. Life was good, peaceful even. 

The walk was filled with laughter and stories exchanged between you two. Whether it was a memory already told or one that was dug up from the back of your minds.

You quickly spotted the familiar wooden bench and the two of you made your way towards it. It was perched next to a tree which gave the perfect amount of shade, not that you needed it tonight though. 

You ran your fingers over the wood and smiled wistfully, “This is where you first kissed me.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded before chuckling. “I was so nervous.”

“I know,” You teased. “But you’re big, ol’ strong Spiderman.”

“Spiderman doesn’t kiss,” Peter rolled his eyes playfully. “But so did I, so I didn’t know what to do.”

You couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend’s sudden shyness. Looking around, you noticed that the park was mostly empty save for the vendors and a few women in business attire. But nevertheless, nobody was paying attention to each other.

You swung your legs over Peter’s, you sitting on his lap as you faced him. His arms found place on your hips on instinct and for a moment, the two of you sat there, eyes flickering from the other’s eyes and lips. 

You only got one kiss in when Peter gently pushed you away from him and he stood up from the bench, alertness and caution evident on his face. 

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He pleaded, guilt dripping from his voice.

“What-”

He quickly pulled you to the side and unzipped his backpack. A frown settled on your face as you saw the teddy bear he had won you earlier next to the familiar spandex suit. Settling behind the large tree, Peter started to undress and got into his suit, frantically looking around to see if anyone was watching. You did the same and made sure there was no onlooker. 

As you were about to express your concern, a sudden explosion filled your ears, causing you to scream. 

“Shit!” Peter exclaimed. His gloved hands pulled you to him. “Are you okay?”

All you could do was nod as the two of you looked over to where black smoke was rising into the already polluted air. An orange glow started to show, but it was not calming like the one back in the amusement park. Unable to speak, you listened to Peter and heard him talking to Karen about the commotion. 

“Y/N,” He pulled you from your thoughts. “Stay here, okay? Don’t go anywhere, not until I’m back.” 

“But, Pete--”

“Baby, please,” You could hear the desperation in your boyfriend’s voice. “Karen already predicts it won’t spread here so just stay, please.”

“Okay,” You frantically nodded. “I love you, be safe. Please, please be safe.”

Tears were starting to blur your vision and the last thing you could properly comprehend was Peter slightly lifting his mask to press a kiss to your forehead before he swung away with his webs. 

An hour has passed, and you were still shaking in fear by the bench. You had clutched Peter’s backpack to your chest and tried to calm yourself down by taking in his scent that lingered on the jacket. A faint scent of smoke filled your nostrils, but you clung to the smell of cinnamon mixed with fresh linen.

You received multiple texts from friends and family, but only gave them a short reply reassuring them that you’re fine. Physically, you were, but your mind was going into dark places. Your thoughts couldn’t stop from conjuring up negative ones. As much as you wanted to check on Peter, you knew that it would not benefit anybody because it would distract him from doing his job. 

“We gotta go!” Peter suddenly appeared in front of you. He didn’t wait for an answer before he pulled you into him, right arm secured around your torso.

You squealed as you two ascended into the New York skyline. You just hoped that your nails weren’t digging holes into Peter’s suit because of how hard you were clinging onto him.

“Peter!” You cried out. You heard him mutter an apology under his breath as he continued to shoot webs from building to building.

You kept your head tucked under his neck throughout the entire journey. You didn’t even know where you two were going but the fear mixing in with the adrenaline held you back from asking questions.

You felt Peter’s momentum slow down and you noticed that it was brighter and louder now. Honks from taxi cabs clashed with sirens from fire trucks. He helped you settle on your feet, and kept you steady when your legs went all wobbly.

You were at your fire escape.

Taking a few deep breaths, your heartbeat eventually calmed down and you took in Peter’s shaking form. You heard him let out a sob and panic rose in your chest again.

“Baby, hey, what’s wrong?” You asked with a soft tone, and started to gently lift up the bottom part of his mask.

His breathing was frantic and you continued to completely take off the mask that clung to his skin. Peter wasn’t meeting your eye and you knew that his senses were still going haywire. You cupped his face in your hands.

“Hey, Pete..” You cooed. “Breathe with me, yeah?”

You two started to synchronize your breathing pattern and you felt his jaw starting to relax underneath your touch. He finally looked you in the eyes and the tears forming in his waterline broke your heart.

“Are you hurt?” You asked, starting to open your bedroom window with one hand while the other remained on his cheek.

“I—” Peter started but eventually let out a sigh. He started helping you lift up the window and helped you crawl inside your room.

You were confused when Peter was still by the stairs and wasn’t budging.

“Come on in, it’s okay.” You reassured him. You knew by the look on his face that he was blaming himself for how your night turned from peaceful to one involving you inhaling in smoke.

“Come here, it’s okay,” You stretched out your arms and started to pull him into your room. You knew that he was complying since you wouldn’t be able to move him by an inch if he wasn’t.

Your arms didn’t let go, but rather tightened around Peter’s figure when he set foot into your bedroom. You rested your head against his chest and let the faint sound of his heartbeat calm you down. A small smile crept on your face his hand rested on your waist and the other started caressing your hair softly.

“I’m sorry.” He let out. You only hummed in return, letting him know that you were genuinely fine with the events of tonight. “We should—”

You kept quiet, waiting for him to finish his sentence. You pulled away when he didn’t.

“We should what, Pete?” You whispered as your hand came up to cup his cheek again. To be honest, you didn’t know why the two of you were whispering. The apartment was empty and you wouldn’t be bothering anyone.

“We should..” Peter trailed off once again. You could hear him swallow because of how quiet it was in your room. “We should break up.”

You immediately retracted your hand, “What?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Tears were fully streaming down his face now. “But it’s for the best.”

You could not comprehend what he was saying. Something definitely happened earlier by the fire that was causing him to say such things. You never pushed Peter to tell you about things going on with his life as a superhero.

Of course, you ask him to share fun stories and what it’s like, but never have you pushed him to share the horrors that he has seen. You know Peter well enough that he will tell you about it whenever he was ready. And you respect that. But this time was different.

“Peter, what happened?” You asked firmly.

“It’s– it’s me, okay? You being with me is dangerous and I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”

“Peter, what happened?” You repeated, crossing your arms. “At the fire. You know that I am perfectly capable of handling myself.”

He lets out a frustrated groan and buries his face in his hands, “I know that! Don’t you think I know that? But.. but out there, there are seriously messed up people that won’t go down from a pepper spray to the face.”

You softly gasped as he started to raise his voice, but you stood your ground, “Peter, what—”

“He said your name!”

The room was quiet now. Silence between you and Peter had always been comfortable, the kind that only two people that truly understood each other rejoiced in. But you didn’t like the silence that followed after Peter’s words. His eyes bloodshot, and the lips you absolutely adored wobbling.

“He said your name, Y/N..” Peter continued with his shaky voice. “Said he knew you.. that you were my weakness.. and then I was filled with so much rage I lost control and he still got away.”

“Oh, Peter.” You cried. Tears were now falling down your face too as you cradled Peter in your arms. He was bigger than you, but right now, a scared boy shivered in your embrace.

You could never be mad at him. Not truly. And you understood where he was coming from. You would find yourself doing the same thing if you two switched places.

The two of you continued to hug each other in the dark, with silent tears running down your faces. But by the time you felt each other’s breathing to calm down, you two got up from the carpeted floor and you helped Peter get dressed.

It was quiet when you helped him out of his suit that smelled like smoke and into some fresh pairs of sweatpants and corny graphic t-shirt that he left by your place.

Eventually, you two settled on your bed, with Peter resting his head on your chest and you running your fingers through his chocolate curls. The silence was better this time around. But still, words need to be said and this was not some argument you two could just set aside for another day.

“Please don’t leave me.” You whispered and you felt Peter tense up.

“Never.” He found himself saying. But it was true. Peter could never leave you, no matter the circumstance.

“I love you so much, Pete..” You started. “And the guy from earlier was probably just some lowlife loser who starts fires with cheap hardware store gas.”

Peter’s contagious laugh rang softly in your ears and you continued your little speech. “So who the fuck cares about what he says? You’re a goddamn Avenger.”

Peter lifted his head and rested his chin by your stomach, “Yeah, but..”

“No buts, Parker,” You tutted. “I can kick some ass myself, ya know?”

Your boyfriend laughed once again and Peter found himself hovering over you. He placed a kiss on your nose as he laced one of your hands together.

“And I can teach you some sweet Spiderman moves.” Peter smiled against your lips and you found yourself mirroring his expression.

“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot for trying to break up with you.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Pete.” You reassured him, squeezing his hand that was holding yours for extra measure.

You two fell asleep in each other’s arms after mindless talking and soft lingering kisses on each other’s lips. It was a cold summer night but Peter was right there, keeping your brittle heart warm.

[panharmonium]

THAT is the importance of an adult who Understands.

one of the things that i always come back to when i think about sasuke is that sasuke has virtually everybody in the village fooled.  you couldn’t find a more messed up kid in all the hidden leaf if you tried, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him, because he can’t afford to acknowledge or display weakness - firstly, because weakness means he isn’t strong enough to take on itachi, and secondly, because signs of struggle on sasuke’s part might mean that an authority figure tries to involve themself in his life, and sasuke doesn’t want anyone interfering in something he sees as a personal quest.  he doesn’t see himself as a child who needs to be looked after by adults; he sees himself as an adult in a frustratingly small body, and he wants all the other adults to leave him alone and let him do what he needs to do.  he doesn’t want meddling.  he wants everyone who has the power to potentially keep him from getting what he most desires to remain oblivious to his true state of mind, to not look too closely, to never see a child in distress, because if he ever lets on that he doesn’t have his shit together, it’s possible that one of the leaf’s less negligent grown-ups will swoop down on him and start trying to intervene/“parent” him, which to sasuke’s mind just means “get in the way.”  

sasuke, who has long felt like he’s already an adult dealing with adult problems, won’t tolerate that.  so he masks his issues, to the point where he has virtually everyone around him completely deceived.  his regular schoolteachers don’t worry about him - he’s a high achiever, he gets perfect grades, he’s top of his class in everything, he doesn’t make trouble.  his classmates don’t worry about him - they buy the ‘i’m so cool, nothing fazes me’ act and worship at his feet, even as he demonstrates that he wants nothing to do with them.  the rest of the leaf village doesn’t worry about him, either - they see him as a source of village pride (and a source of entertainment/drama, like when they’re all so excited to watch The Last Uchiha fight for their nation during the chunin exams).  even though sasuke is so messed up on the inside, the exterior facade he presents to people is specifically designed to prevent any wondering about how he’s doing.  as far as the world can see, he’s doing Just Fine (and while everyone is busy not wondering about his health, he can get down to the business of getting his revenge).

sasuke’s strategy for relating to other people is, essentially, the opposite of naruto’s approach.  naruto, in his early childhood, draws as much attention to himself as possible, causing all sorts of mayhem, in the hope that someone, somewhere will see him.  he makes trouble and causes problems precisely because he desperately wants someone to acknowledge his pain, and that’s how he ends up landing iruka as an adult support figure, because iruka notices what’s happening and decides to get involved.  sasuke, in contrast to naruto, doesn’t want anyone to acknowledge or even notice his pain, because if they do notice it, they might try to stop him from pursuing what he thinks is the only way to alleviate it.  that’s not an acceptable outcome for him, so instead of making a scene and calling attention to himself, he hides in plain sight. 

sasuke doesn’t want people to get involved in his life.  he wants to be left to his own devices.  he doesn’t think he needs (read: deserves) anybody’s help, and some tiny part of him knows that a Responsible Adult might raise their eyebrows at what he’s doing to himself, so he uses his “high-achiever, too cool for school” persona to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes.  and he almost succeeds - until kakashi enters the picture.  kakashi, who can’t be fooled.  kakashi, who has known from Day One, Minute One exactly what goal is driving all of sasuke’s high achievement, and who knows that sasuke is NOT okay, in either the head or the heart.  kakashi, who in the above gifset can tell that sasuke is having a crisis without even turning around.  kakashi doesn’t need to be shown evidence before he gets concerned.  he’s known from the very start that sasuke is struggling, because he lived through similar pains and tried to cope with them in similarly unhealthy ways (remember: “useless things like emotions only get in the way”/“having too many ties in this world will only lead you astray” + “everyone you’re talking about has already been killed”/“they’re all dead...because i wasn’t strong enough to save them”).

sasuke still tries to put up the front.  a few scenes prior to the above gifset, sasuke is the one who is making fun of naruto for freezing up - you’re not hurt, are you...scaredy-cat.  and he completely fools his peers with his attitude - sakura’s got stars in her eyes, naruto’s super jealous; both of them think sasuke’s So Cool and Super Powerful and Not Afraid of Anything!

but when sasuke himself is confronted with a serious, imminent threat to his life (one against which his supposedly “advanced” skills are useless, one from which he can’t protect himself; aka, one where he’s suddenly reminded that he’s actually a twelve year-old genin and his safety is out of his control, just like it was the night his family was murdered), he’s the one who panics.  the other kids are scared, too - but sasuke completely loses it.  he almost kills himself to get away from the intensity of his fear.  *cough* it’s the ptsd *cough* but anyway -

kakashi is able to sense this without even turning around.  he’s preparing to fight an aggressor under the least ideal circumstances possible - they were supposed to be on a mission where it was four people protecting one man, but because tazuna lied to them, they’re now in a situation where it’s one man protecting four people, including three children - and even with all of that competing for his attention, kakashi is still focusing closely enough on each individual kid to sense that sasuke is going off the rails.  without even turning around, he knows.

we all remember this, right?

it doesn’t matter how much of an act sasuke puts on.  kakashi has been there.  he knows better.  he can’t be fooled.  he calls for sasuke by name and pulls him back from the brink.

kakashi interrupts this crisis so effectively.  not only is he able to snap sasuke out of his panic, but he’s also careful to then extend his reassurance to everyone present, accomplishing the dual purposes of calming everyone else down and also redirecting attention away from sasuke’s more extreme reaction, which the others haven’t noticed yet.  it’s deftly done.  it addresses sasuke’s crisis on an individual level without putting him in the spotlight.  it works.  the way sasuke relaxes in that last gif...man.

calm down.  i’ll protect you with my life.

i’ve already talked a little bit about how much it would mean for somebody with sasuke’s particular history to hear that (especially when those words are spoken by an adult who follows through on the promise every single time), but here i just want to focus on the fact that the only reason sasuke is lucky enough to receive this reassurance in the first place is because kakashi isn’t fooled by sasuke pretending he doesn’t need to hear it.  kakashi and the kids are very new to each other at this point, but even so, kakashi still understands sasuke better than any other adult in the hidden leaf.  he’s the first authority figure who sasuke hasn’t been able to trick into obliviousness - sasuke can’t pretend away his problems in front of someone who used to have all those same problems himself!  kakashi is too savvy to be waved away with the whole ‘i’m super advanced for my age i don’t need any help don’t look behind my mask’ charade.  kakashi invented that game.  he knows it’s one you don’t want to win.  he won it himself, when he played it, and winning just meant that everybody took him at his word when he acted like he was fine and nobody ever gave him the kind of help he needed.  he’s not going to let another kid get away with the same self-destructive shenanigans, not when he’s around to call their bluffs and be the kind of support structure he himself could’ve benefited from when he was younger.   

[forthechubbies]

What's Wrong With Secretary Park?!

Synopsis• If balancing work and a stubborn ex-husband isn't hard enough, Let's add the boss’s seven sons falling head over heels for her to mix.

Category's• Romcon, Comedy, Office Au.

Duos• BTS X Reader

A spin-off of the original series ‘ What's Wrong With Secretary Kim’ Bangtan Edition! Starring the Handsome, Seo-Joon Park as the Ex husband.

There will be more parts but I didn’t want the title to be to long.

EP. One Two

“ Mrs. Park, Good Morning!”

“Mrs. Park, What does my schedule look like today?”

“Mrs. Park, Your coffee keeps me alive.”

In case you haven’t noticed, Park Yn, I’m the secretary to Jeon Sung-ho, the CEO of Dnd Parmatech, 85 percent of the time, newly build hospitals or centers use our funds as kickstarts. Daily I make schedules, appointments, filing documents, answering calls, and blah blah blah.

Is it boring? Yes, I know. However, quite refreshing coming from my hectic marriage. Once upon a time, I was wedded to the marvelous actor Park Seo-Joon for three years. I sat in the limelight and even had the privilege to play the part of his wife in movies. Sigh. Although the attention and riches were grand, no amount of expensive counseling could save our marriage. We never saw eye to eye on anything, and his short temper wasn’t helping.

Knowing my worth, I packed up and left without a doubt in my head. However, The documentation of our separation wasn’t finalized due to a certain one refusing to sign off on the divorce agreement. So physically, I’m still Mrs. Park but ain’t no piece of paper telling who I belong too.

Whatever! I have too much to focus on already! Game on, Game on! First, I got to get these papers approved and signed by Mr. Jeon then-

Buzz Buzz Buzz!

Who’s calling-

Speak of the devil. I could have sworn I deleted his contact a long time ago! “ What Seo-Joon? I’m busy-“

“ When is this little temper tantrum going to end? Darling, I think you made your point.”

“My point?! Listen here, You slimy son of-” Now, Now Yn calm down calm down don’t let him get a rise out you that just what he wants. A quick exhale should do the trick. “ Seo-Joon, I believe we reached an agreed on no type of communication unless it revolves around the settlement for the divorce.”

How is it possible I can physically see his snarky face?

Seo-Joon stretched out his list of complaints.” It’s been over a year. I miss your kisses, soft skin, that cute birthmark on your-“

“ You will not talk about such embarrassing things over the phone!” Thank goodness, Nobody was around to hear me shot like that.

“Why is this divorce still an issue?!” There goes that temper again-How whinny can one man be? “ If you don’t stop this, I will take matters into my own hands.”

I laughed. “ Ha, Seo-jerk, I’m not scared of you! Do your worst because It doesn’t matter if you drag me back home; it doesn’t subside the problem being over our marriage.” I feel like a broken record at this point. “ If this isn’t about the papers, this conversation is over, Mr. Park; please refrain from calling me again, goodbye.”

He chuckled and mumbled something along the lines of, “ Your cute acting cheeky like this.” The rest he continued louder “ Those delicate hands of yours were made to indulge in the finest silk and satin I can obtain, not working nine to five at whatever job hired a housewife with zero work ethic. I just know I haven’t touched your side of the room since that night- I love you, Mrs.Park, I always will.”

He hung up. You know, after he finished insulting my new lifestyle and calling me a useless housewife, the ‘ I love you’ bit at the end sounds sincere, but he is an actor! Of course.

Hmph! Just because I’m working for myself for one doesn’t mean I’m miserable. I’m actually in love with my job, It pays well with benefits, and I sat on my butt all day. If that pompous little bedazzled turd thinks making me the butt of his jokes will get me back in his arms, he has another thing coming!

“Um, Mrs. Park?”

“ What!” I snapped. “ Oh, Hoseok, I’m sorry!” I bowed my head; the poor thing nearly jumped out of his shoes.

Hoseok beamed his warm heart-shaped smile at me. “ Oppa is having a family meeting today; I guess I’m the first to show.”

I wasn’t informed about a meeting today from Mr.Jeon, maybe because it’s a family affair.

“Tada!” He cutely squeaks. A tasteful package breakfast alongside a tall cup of what I presume is a coffee from..’ Thanks Nature’!

“Oh my- Hobi, this cafe is across town-”

“I overhead Oppa scolding you for skipping meals one day and I’m here to do the same, don’t skip meals or else We will be hurt if something happens to you.” Hoseok pointed at the pack. “ Eat every bit.”

Hoseok displayed a small heart using his index finger and thumb, hopping off to his father’s double doors.

Mr. Jeon has seven sons in all. The man is a true saint; men like him and his sons are why I still believe not all men are dogs. After losing his wife to heart cancer, He just about went bankrupt, donating all he had to have found cures to multiple diseases hoping nobody else had to suffer his same heartbreak.

Love found him again in an orphanage just north of here, ‘Seoul Children Home.’ His first son, Kim Seokjin, at the time Jin was already in his teenage years, making it difficult for him to find a family due to the high demand of couples wanting a single-digit child. His birth family mistreated him, but he was beaten everywhere except his face to keep his handsome appearance. The family decided to put his money-maker to fair use and attempted to sell him. Seokjin saw his opportunity and high-tailed, landing himself in the orphanage where he happily lends a helping hand every chance he got. He learned how to read, write, cook, clean, and even tend to the tots when the nuns were busy.

This is how he met his slightly younger brothers, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, and Kim Namjoon; when being chosen for adoption, Seokjin refused to live without his baby brothers by his side.

“ Hello, Noona!”

Oh, Look just in time, “ Hello, You’re father is in his office.”

Namjoon eyed my edible gift from Hobi and raised his eyebrow as well as a question. “ So this is why Hyung left so early in the morning for-and I hope you’re having a good morning, Noona.”

I’m not older than them. Why do they call me Noona? Do I look old!?

“ Yn, Good morning! How are you!” Jin greeted me with English this morning. He must have been practicing with Namjoon lately.

“ I’m Fine. Seokjin.”

“Chu.” He blew a kiss my way. “ You’re not fine. You’re amazeing.”

“Amazing.” Namjoon corrected for the sidelines.

“Same thing.”

“Pronunciation is everything, Hyung.”

They stopped halfway from their dad’s office. Jin grinned. Wait, I know that smile; oh no, here comes a dad joke.

“ Hey, Namjoon-You know the reason I took the elevator instead of the stairs?”

Namjoon sighed. “ No, why?”

"I don't trust stairs. They're always up to something." Jin burst out laughing and clapped his hands.

I giggled not from the joke, but Jin has a contagious laugh.

“See, Yn has good taste.”

A slow deep groan entered the office belonging to Yoongi, lagging. “ I heard that terrible joke from the elevator.” Yoongi waved and leaned against my desk. “ Good Morning.”

“Good Morning.”

There was an awkward pause before Yoongi tapped my desk and pointed to his dad’s office from walking that way.

“Yoon-Yoongi!?”

He turned back towards me.

“ I have something for you. I packed it up on the way here.” Getting off my butt, I walked up and gave him a bottle of his favorite black ice coffee. Ew. I don’t know how he drinks it with no cream or sugar.

Yoongi smiled his gummy smile. “ Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome.” And off he goes into the office as well.

Yoongi isn’t the biggest fan of human interaction, but he put forth an endeavor towards me, whether it’s a light ‘ Hi or Hello” or the simplicity of a wave. I admire his gusto. Sidenote, He’s so adorable-I know I know I shouldn’t be gushing over my boss’s son, but his chubby cheeks and almond eyes melt my heart like butter on toast!

Ahem-I better get back to answering those emails and drink this beautiful cup of expensive mud before it gets lukewarm. Yummy, The delectable taste is a boost of serotonin! I really should get to work buuut Hobi did command me to get every last bit and technically he is my boss through some type of weird relative aspect. He is the boss.

Just in a moment of seconds, The breakfast and drink was trash. Something that good should be sinful. I feel terrible I should have saved some for the babies; they would have some, especially Jungkook.

The babies should be here any minute.