#so like he's all grown up because his mom keeps giving him responsibility

[luminiamore]

I'm in an Eren mood, and just found your bomb fics🫶🏾!! I was wondering if you can do a tomboy/boxer(or weight lifter) reader who has a smart mouth with Eren, they're really competitive and always arguing(jokingly, because they both have smart mouths) it can smut or not whatever you feel🩷🩷

SUCKER.

best friend eren x boxer black reader

warnings: ex jean, eren HATES jean, pussy eating, recording, great sex/mean ren

a/n: doing a part two 🫶🏾

masterlist

Friday night, 11 p.m.

A small gathering was taking place while you were at Connie’s house. Your friends, including your annoying best friend Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Historia, her girlfriend Ymir, and your ex-boyfriend, Jean, were there. Your use of the term ‘friend’ for him is rather polite. You were here, drinking rather than mentally preparing for your match in the upcoming week at home.

You were lying on the couch. Eren lazily leaned his head on your lap, entertaining himself with random Instagram reels on his phone while holding a bottle of Cognac in his unaccompanied hand. Card games were being played by the rest of the crowd to entertain themselves. As you were all quite drunk, Connie made the decision to introduce a drinking game.

“Not gon’ play with them?” He whispers, the sound still rumbling against your exposed thighs.

You sigh, actually contemplating it. You probably would’ve said no if you were sober —scratch that—you definitely would’ve said no. You know that Eren wouldn’t play unless you did. His ego is too big to admit it, but he followed you around like a lost puppy. The only reason he came here was because of you.

“I might. Join me? We should keep a score to see who gets the most points.” You grin, head spinning when you abruptly shift your position.

“Compelling. What kind of points?”

“Isn’t this game like you have to answer a question or drink? I get to drive your beamer for a week if I answer the most questions. And you have to buy me new gloves for my match.” You poke his shoulder as you speak. You see his eyebrows raise up in amusement.

He snorts, “And what do I get if I win?”

“What do you want? And don’t say nothing crazy, I’ll fuck you up.”

At that, he gives an amused laugh, “Girl, please. You can’t even reach my face. Short ass.”

You flick his forehead with your finger, snickering when he groans a bit. “Reached it now, didn’t I?”

“You’re not funny. Nobody laughed, actually.”

“I did. Now, answer the question, fore’ I do it again.”

You get an eye roll and a sly smile on his pink lips as if he has come up with some devious plan. You would’ve started regretting this, but you’re not a quitter. You started this shit, and you’re gonna finish it through.

“You have to do anything I say for a week.”

You suck your teeth, “We not in some video on Pornhub, boy. Be for real.”

“Any video starring you and me in it would have Hollywood rushing to put it on the big screen. You be for real.”

That renders you silent. For a moment, no one says anything. Eren just stares intently into your eyes, waiting for your response.

“.. That’s what you want?”

“That’s what I want.”

There’s nothing much to say after that. You push Eren’s head up so you can stand, ass jiggling in the shorts you were wearing. As if by magic, he follows behind you, with you failing to notice his gaze drifting downwards to give your ass a drooling gaze.

They gathered in the living room and sat in a nearly perfect circle. You opted to seat yourself right next to where Sasha was sitting. Eren, of course, shoved Jean, who was sitting on the opposite side, to sit next to you. You would have said something before you and Jean broke up, but that isn’t your man.

Your relationship with Eren was a source of jealousy for him, leading to your split. For years, you and Eren had been friends; you had practically grown up together. Your moms had been friends, so by default, you two started hanging out every single day since grade school. The two of you were very close, extremely close. You slept in the same bed together; he was your first kiss, and you were his. You even lived in the same apartment.

You’re not oblivious. At least you don’t think you are. It was always clear to you that having a boyfriend would necessitate changes. The act of sleeping in the same bed and cuddling with Eren would necessitate changing. Eren reluctantly understood, but there are times when you wake up in the morning and find him fast asleep on your stomach.

Every day, Jean would complain about Eren being too close to you and how he doesn’t like him living with you. He suggested that you move in with him a month after you started dating. You two hadn’t even fucked yet.

You would never drop Eren, he was too important to you. So, it’s safe to say your relationship with Jean didn’t last long.

You ignore his gaze on you as you giggle at something Sasha said. Connie finally comes back with a stack of cards that say ‘Truth or Drink: Dirty and Sex Edition’ and a bottle of Hennessy.

“Ya’ll know the drill, answer the question, or take a shot. Don’t be pussy, though.” He addresses the group over music playing.

The game gets off to a fast start. The questions began simple, such as ‘Are you a virgin?’ or ‘How many bodies do you have?’ These are not things that should make anyone feel ashamed. Eventually, they became a bit more intimate, at least for you. You had 9 points, and Eren was in the lead with 12 points.

“Your turn, (☆).” Connie addresses you.

After pulling a card from the pile, the next question causes your breath to pause. Swiping the bottle, you take a deep breath to prepare yourself for the burn this drink will give you.

You’re stopped short by Eren, “Aht— you gotta tell us what the question says.”

“Not important.” You take a sip, gagging when the flavor finally hits your mouth. You’re too occupied to notice Eren quickly removes the card from your lap. When he reads it out loud, you almost choke on your spit.

“Have you ever hooked up with a friend?” In response to the rest of the group’s ‘Ooohs,’ he snickers at you.

You smack his head lightly, “Asshole.”

“Who you fucked, girl?” Sasha pokes at you. The attention is entirely on you, causing your face to flush in embarrassment.

“I plead the fifth.”

“Was it Eren?” Jean’s voice prompts a quick turn of your head. He looked so angry, so ticked that he could explode if you said one wrong word. You answered to avoid causing a scene,

“No.”

You’re nearly afraid to look at Eren, yet you realize he’s staring at you. His gaze was burning on the side of your face, making you squirm. Jean’s scoffing shows he didn’t believe you, but you’re not here to argue with your ex. Connie recognizes that you no longer want to talk about it, so he turns the spotlight on him when he pulls another card.

You’re about to send a grateful glance to him for that, but your body stiffens when Eren whispers in your ear,

“You just gonna lie to him like that?”

You grit your teeth, keeping your voice as low as possible, “Shut up.”

“What, you gonna protect his feelings?” Eren’s energy is condescending and irritable, to say the least.

“I’m protecting your frail ass ego. Wouldn’t want to embarrass you when I tell them you didn’t even make me cum.” You lie through your teeth, smirking, thinking you won.

You almost yelp when you feel a pinch on the side of your hips, “C’mon, mama. Your body never lies, especially not to me. Remember those pretty moans clear as day— ‘Oh, daddy! Right there— gonna cu-’”

Your hand covers his mouth, and you’re about to smack him again when you feel that stupid, cunning smile against your hand. You pause and sigh in relief when you realize that no one has heard him, as they’re too preoccupied with Sasha, who’s indulging in the bottle. No one except Jean, who’s practically seething in anger as he glares at Eren.

- -

It was now one in the morning. Most people were passed out because of how drunk they were. Only you, Eren, and Jean were awake, with Jean nearing sleep while staring at his phone. It goes without saying that Eren won the bet; he had no shame when it came to his sexual innuendos.

You’re about to get up from your seat on the floor, but Eren’s grip on your waist doesn’t loosen. You try to look at him but realize he’s not even paying attention to you. Instead, his eyes are intently focused on the shorts you’re wearing with a frown.

“You good?” You speak, thinking that your sudden voice will dislodge his gaze.

“Hmm. These shorts aren’t easy access.”

That’s the message the liquors are trying to convey -- it must be. You and Eren only slept together once, but you assured him that it was a mistake that wouldn’t happen again to keep your friendship intact. He handled it well, perhaps too well. Almost like he was expecting you to say that. As if you hadn’t experienced heaven on Earth that night, you both returned to your normal lives.

“Eren, there are people here.” You whisper rather harshly.

He unbuttons the only button on your garments, “I don’t see anyone.”

“Jean is right there.”

“..Anyone important.”

Your eyes widen when he plays with the hem of your peaking panties now that your shorts are loose. He’s so stealthy with it, too, like he’s not doing anything wrong. You have to snap out of it when you realize you’re in a room full of friends. You slap his hand,

“We’re not doing this here.”

His response is quick, “Oh, so if we weren’t here, you would?”

“If you two are gonna fuck, can you do it somewhere else?” Jean is downright peeved by the sexual tension that is erupting between you two. At this point, he’s just annoyed. Annoyed that his suspicions were confirmed. You two are definitely more than just friends.

You freeze, failing to remember that he was still awake for a moment.

“Jean, it’s not like that-”

“It is like that. I might take you up on that offer, Jean boy.” Eren abruptly ends your sentence with a gleaming smile, making it clear that he’s only trying to annoy him. He’s petty like that. You’re tempted to hit him again.

“No, it’s not. Stop being petty-”

Eren turns to you abruptly, eyes zeroed in on your lips. His voice is purposely loud so Jean can hear precisely what he’s saying to you. “Will you let me eat your pussy again if we leave here, (☆)?”

You gasp, your pussy tightening a bit at how desperate his tone is. You really want to say yes, but you know that’s the liquor talking. It has to be. Jean scoffs, pulling you out of your daze.

You scowl and push his hands off you, “I’m leaving, and I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

When you stumble to stand, he watches you, his eyes fixed on the fatness of your ass and its movement. These shorts are a favorite of his. He sighs, his lips twitching as he speaks,

“Can I-”

“No.” And with that, you stumble off to the room, making sure to lock the door behind you.

Eren makes the decision to return to the couch in the living room to sleep. Jean’s eyes never leave him all the time, and when he catches him staring, he doesn’t fail to stare back,

“The fuck are you looking at?”

Monday afternoon, 3 p.m.

“Imma be real with you. I’m all for equality and shit, but seriously, you hit like a girl.”

The deep voice of your best friend flutters in your ears as you throw another punch at the hand he’s holding up. You’re both in the boxing ring at your local gym, practicing for your next match.

As always, your best friend is there to help you and throw some lighthearted insults your way.

“Eren, please don’t get fucked up.”

He gives a laugh, a genuine one that makes you roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? With those weak ass hits? Forgive me if I’m not shaking in my shoes right now.”

You throw another hit at his wrapped-up hand, harder this time. You can tell by the way his unwavering hands move a little. You grit your teeth at the fact that he doesn’t wholly stumble back.

“Yo,’ ass was damn sure shaking in your shoes when I almost folded you.”

“So, we lying now?” That little smirk that was forming on his face never backed down.

It almost irritates you how arrogant he is. Connie and Eren always get into these friendly play fights, never anything serious. But that’s just your best friend. If anything, you would probably chew up any other person with your mouth. Connie, for example. Not Eren, though; he always had something to say back.

“Every word that comes out your mouth is a lie.” Your whisper

“You not any better.”

You hit his hand again, “Now, what the hell are you yapping about.”

“Why would you lie to your little boyfriend yesterday?” His voice is low and calculated as he questions you. He was getting heated again.

“Ex. And I’m not sorry. I didn’t want to tell the man who’s been worried about us the entire time we dated that I got your dick wet.”

“Dated. Past tense. So, why the fuck are you worried about it?” Now, he holds your hands to prevent you from moving.

You huff, “I’m not rude, Eren. I have no beef with the man. Now, let’s keep practicing, please.”

You think he’s going to release your hands, but he only stares at you. Your heart is racing. Does he really feel upset about this?

It seems he is because Eren pulls your body out of the ring and drags you to the nearest locker room. The gym is closed today, only opened to the two of you because he’s friends with the owner. Now that he has you to himself, he has no worries about anyone ruining this moment.

You would have protested; your resolve is usually stronger than this. But it’s Eren. Your Eren. Your best friend who happens to be really good with his tongue, his fingers, and that absolute monster in between his legs.

Fuck it feels so electric when his tongue laps in between your wet folds, your body squirming on the bench he seated you on. You can’t stop twitching, your arousal just overflowing on his tongue.

“Thought this was a mistake? ‘It can never happen again’, that’s what you said right?” He lightly bites on your clit, relishing in the gasp you emit.

“Look at you now, letting it happen again.”

He pushes two fingers past your walls and rapidly moves them in and out, grazing your spongy spot. They’re curling inside you, and with every stroke, you feel yourself falling more into a haze. Your eyes start crossing as Eren stirs up your insides.

You whimper out, “S-Shut up. Shitt.”

“Oh, no. You’re gonna listen t’me today. Maybe we should send a video to Jean, show him everything he could never do to you.”

You hate yourself for it, but the thought of it gets you even wetter for some reason. With the way your best friend chuckles against your core as the squelching sounds coming from you get louder, he can tell, too. Your pretty brown pussy is just splashing on his face, he’s in love with it— in love with you.

He rasps out breathily, “Wet my face, baby.”

Your face twists as he works his fingers against your cervix. The sounds coming from you are simply divine. The heat in your stomach is palpable, and the heat in every crevice of your body is sizzling and electrified.

“Want me to fuck you, right? Cum then, (☆).”

It’s as if your body knows what he’s saying because you release immediately. Your body shakes when you squirt. Your addicting juices spraying all over his fingers— his face. Eren slurps up everything you have to offer, and its sounds are just so obscene that you’re sure anyone would know what’s going on if they just walked by the door. Your loud moans would probably give it away, too.

Eren deliberately takes his time creeping up to your panting lips and pulling his thick fingers out of your walls. Your breath is sucked out of your lungs when he kisses your lips. The taste of your essence makes your pussy drip as he sucks on your tongue. You love it, so drunk off the taste of him.

You frantically pull his hips onto yours, unaware that he’s already pulled his dick out. It’s not much for his tip to force itself inside of you. He has to do most of the work to fuck the rest of his inches in. You’re gasping against his lips, trying to moan, but he won’t let you. Every time, he swallows them.

It’s torture. He’s so thick that it stings a little. He gets a little impatient and slams into you all at once. Screaming in a muffled voice, you quickly press your hands on his stomach. He’s making your pussy sing some nasty noises that make you feel so good.

You’re squirming your body as Eren starts feeding you gut-punching stokes. That won’t do.

With a harsh grip on your wrists, he pushes them above your head with one hand. “I couldn’t make you cum, right?”

You huff, your eyes rolling back in your head when he abuses your cervix. It’s too late for you to realize when Eren takes out your phone. He knows your password and keeps thrusting in you when he opens Jean’s message thread. He scoffs when he realizes you haven’t yet blocked and deleted his number.

That catches your attention as your eyes struggle to settle on him, “W-What are you doing?”

He shuts you up by speeding up his movements. Shit. You almost choke on your spit when he leans his body on you so hard your legs are reaching your ears. The only inkling you get that he’s recording is when your ears catch on the sound it makes when he presses that red button.

You don’t stop him or even struggle against his hold. You can only morph your face into pleasurable expressions as he makes you feel euphoria. He sets your phone on the wall behind the bench, and he can see it’s showcasing the both of you. Good.

Eren, let’s go of your wrists to use both hands to press on the back of your thighs into the wood underneath you. You feel him deeper this way, his bulge pressing against your stomach every time his tip touches your womb. He finds joy in the fact that the camera captured that.

“Ren— baby— I’m g-gonna make another mess.” You whine, pressing on his stomach to stave off your impending orgasm—it does nothing. Nothing, but make him push harder so you can feel how deep he’s going.

“Go on then. Show the camera how messy you get for me and only me.”

Your breathing stutters, “Only you— fuckkk. S’too m-much”

“You love me, baby?”

You cum right then, choking on your moans as you barely get your words out, “Love you so much.”

He groans against your ears when he fills your pussy with his seed. It’s so much, too, so thick, you feel as if it’s coming out your throat. This is what you craved the most, the feeling of his cum stuffing you. You’ve dreamed about this since he did it for the first time.

Feeling worn out, you are basking in the afterglow while breathing heavily. Eren never takes his dick out of you, but he takes this moment to end the video and quickly sends it to Jean with a small message accompanying it,

she lied, lol. 😂

check out my store :D

[flemingsfreckles]

He’s Ours

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: you and Jessie have your first baby

Warnings: child birth I guess? But there’s nothing graphic related to it but better safe than sorry 🤷‍♀️

WC: 2.1k quick read :)

A/N: this was just a one shot because that middle photo of Jessie gives me massive baby fever, i want to have her babies.

“Oh he’s perfect, you made him perfect.” Jessie whispered to you. Her forehead was pressed firmly to yours and her eyes locked with yours. Tears were running down your face from both exhaustion and the overwhelming reality that you just gave birth to your first child. “I’m so proud of you, I love you. You did amazing.” She whispers, punctuating her sentence with a kiss on the forehead. Too tired to give her a verbal response you just closed your eyes and softly smiled at her.

Jessie had praised you all through pregnancy, she always made time to tell you how beautiful you looked, how well you were doing, how good of a mom you already were to the unborn child. It was no surprise to you how encouraging and supportive she had been, she was always your biggest fan, even before you were pregnant.

Jessie had been over the moon when you finally got a positive pregnancy test. The two of you had been in the process of trying for months, resulting in nothing but a pile of negative tests and more doctors visits. When you finally saw the two lines on the test you nearly passed out, Jessie had to help you sit down on the bathroom floor, getting you a wet washcloth for your face to help cool you off.

That moment from 8 months ago flashed through your mind when Jessie had held a washcloth to your forehead as you pushed, it felt like just days ago when you found out and here you were, already having the baby, time had flown by.

Your couple of two was now a new family of three. A nurse came over, placing your son on your bare chest, draping a blanket on top of both of you.

“Congratulations, Moms.”

“Thank you.” Jessie says to the nurse.

You crane your head downward to look at your son. He had a little bit of hair, his skin was red, his eyes closed. It was surreal, you couldn’t believe that the baby you had grown was finally in front of you. His hands were spread across your chest, gripping ever so slightly at your skin.

You bring up a hand, gently cupping your son's butt and back, his body fitting into your hand. Jessie brings a hand up, you watch as she hesitates before softly placing her hand slightly overlapping yours onto the upper back and shoulders of your baby. You can feel how lightly she is pressing, as if he’s made of glass.

“You’re not going to break him Jessie.”

“I know that in my mind, but I can’t, but he’s just so small.” She looks up from where she was fixated on your son, you can see tears on the brim of her eyes. The three of you stayed like that until the nurses came back to take him for some quick newborn testing. You almost didn't let them take him, you wanted to keep holding him, but they assured you it wouldn’t be more than 30 minutes and they’d have him back in your arms shortly.

You're not sure how much time had passed when you woke up, you’re whole body sore, feeling nearly hungover, tired, dehydrated, a hint of nausea.

“Hi.” You turn to see Jessie, she’s sitting at your bedside, holding your son who has been clothes and swaddled into a blanket. He’s quiet, awake but not making noise. “They brought him back a little bit ago, sorry I didn’t wake you but I figured you could use the sleep.”

“Thanks.” You have to admit you were a bit sad you missed his return but you were grateful your wife let you sleep. You couldn’t stop looking at her. The way she was holding your little bundle of joy, she was smiling, she hadn’t stopped smiling since she heard his first cries. She was looking down at him, making faces at him. She was wearing a black hoodie and a pair of training shorts from a day ago now. Her baby hairs sticking out from the hood in every direction. She hadn’t slept in nearly 26 hours but she looked perfect.

She had been at training when you called her. You actually had to call Janine, who was still working on her ACL recovery, she always had her phone on her unlike your wife. Jessie was set to take time off from training starting next week, a week before your due date, but your son had other plans and decided to grace you with his presence early. Janine thankfully answered on the first ring and went running to find Jessie. You were grateful that Janine was allowed to be running, or else she would’ve had to slowly limp or crutch to find your wife. You could hear Janine shouting at Jessie from across the pitch, followed by some talking but you were too focused on a contraction to listen. Seconds later Jessie was calling you, you hung up with Janine and got on the phone with Jessie, you stayed on the phone with her all the way until she came running into your hospital room. You were admitted to the hospital late that night and didn’t meet your son until early the next morning.

It was such a surreal feeling, watching Jessie hold him. You had seen her with other babies before, other player’s babies, friend’s kids, or just random fans' babies that she’s held for photos. That was truely what made you want to have a baby with her so badly. She gave you baby fever you had never had baby fever before you were with her. But nothing compared to the baby fever you felt seeing her with her hand on your son. You were ready to start over and have more of her babies the way she looked at him and looked at you with overwhelming love in her eyes.

Jessie stands up, walking over to you, holding out the bundle of blanket and baby. “Do you want to hold him? I can, if you’d rather rest more, just, you did all the hard work. I want to let you hold him if you want to.”

“Jessie you put up with me pregnant and trying to get pregnant for over a year, I think if anyone had the hard job it was you.” You extend your arms to her, she gently places your son on your chest. Jessie had been a saint during your pregnancy, getting up early with you when you were sick, staying up late to rub your feet. She would stand behind you and hold your belly, taking the weight off of you for as long as you’d let her. She would jump out of bed late at night to make you a snack no matter how early she had to get up. She would FaceTime you for hours on end when she had to be away. Jessie couldn’t have been a better partner.

“All his newborn tests came back good. I wrote down all the details so you could have them if you wanted but everything’s good. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a bus a little bit.” You both laugh. “But I guess that’s normal.” You point toward your water bottle and electrolytes that sat next to it, Jessie hands you both.

“The nurses and doctors are going to come check on you in a little bit too, they came in while you were sleeping but I asked if they could let you be for a bit. Since you didn’t have any issues and your vitals were fine they said they’d come back in an hour.”

“Okay.” You appreciated the heads up from Jessie, the doctors, the exams, the appointment, the stress, the test, were your least favorite part of pregnancy and she knew it, she tried her best to ease your discomfort and anxieties about it whenever she could. You were happy to know that part of parenthood was pretty much over, back to routine.

It was peaceful for a second before your son started wailing.

“What do I do? I don’t know what to do?” You’re wide eyed looking at your wife. A deep feeling of panic begins to build in your stomach. The reality that you’re now responsible for this little baby boy’s life sets in. You’ve never been a mom, you have no idea how to be a mom.

“It’s okay babe. You do. Do you want me to take him?” She wanted to help, her goal was to ease your stress. It was stressful for both of you being new parents but she knew you were experiencing it a little differently with the hormones from birth.

“No, I just don’t know what to do!” You’re on the verge of tears, you feel helpless, your son was crying and you weren’t sure what he needed. He was helpless and you were supposed to be the one to help him.

“Do you want to try and feed him again?” Jessie offers gently, you had tried to feed him earlier with the help of nurses but your son seemed to have no interest and it had left you feeling a little defeated.

“I guess.” You were hesitant but you weren’t sure what else he needed, he was warm, being held and didn’t need to be changed. Jessie held her arms out, taking him from you so you could sit up and get your shirt out of the way. While you were adjusting one of the nurses came in, letting you know that if you wanted help or assistance she was there but that you were welcome to do it on your own as well.

Jessie handed you back your son, she had unwrapped him from the tight swaddle. “The nurse said him being skin to skin might help.” You placed your son against your chest, offering him the chance to feed. You maneuvered yourself and your son with the help of Jessie until finally he had latched and was peacefully eating. You felt so relieved, finally feeling like you were doing a good job of being a mom. He ate until his mouth fell open, his eyes now closed as he drifted asleep.

“See.” Jessie whispered to you, “you do know what he needs, you’re his Mom. Even if it’s scary and new, you know how to help him. I’m here with you too, this isn’t all on you babe.” She placed a kiss on the top of your head and you craned your neck up, puckering your lips. She placed her lips softly on yours, not caring about the PDA in front of the doctors and nurses.

“You’re his Mom too Jess, his our baby boy.” You never wanted Jessie to feel like she was less of his mother because she didn’t carry him or birth him, she was equally his Mom as you were.

“I know, he’s ours.” You both can’t pull your eyes off the sleeping boy, laying across your chest, your arms holding him to you.

“I love you.” You quietly whispered to her, not wanting to wake your son from his sleep.

“I love you.” She whispered back, placing a blanket across both of you again, letting you drift to sleep while she kept a watchful eye on both of you, the two people she loved the most in this world.

[judasgot-it]

Everybody Talks

Scenario: Kaldo really, really likes you. He is doing borderline anything he can to convince you to like him back.

This was originally something else but once again! I have gone way off the tracks!

1.7 k word count

Kaldo might have been obsessed with you since day one.

It was everything about you - the way you walked, the way you smiled at him, the way you had forgotten his name for the first 3 months of knowing him and called him 'Mr. Flame Cane' as if he wouldn't notice.

He did. Usually, he would find something like that a little offensive, but the first time he had met you, there was something different about your demeanor that he was willing to overlook your poor memory.

If anything, it made you cuter.

It was overwhelming. You were lost in the building where divine visionaries held their meetings - it was the first time you had ever been there after being inducted into the group.

Kaldo had practically grown up in the building thanks to his lineage, so of course he had no problem giving you a tour.

He had extended the tour for a little too long - you really didn't need to know about the secret crawl spaces or the unused closets. But he wanted your attention so, so badly.

Kaldo felt a little stupid even, sharing embarrassing childhood stories with someone he had only met a few days before. The laugh he received was so genuine and beautiful, that he wished he could record it and play it on repeat forever.

It was addicting. Those few hours of conversation might have caused some sort of spark in him, because after that he was following you around like a puppy every chance he got.

Maybe he didn't have enough chances - you both did have busy jobs, given you were divine visionaries.

But he found that he could do most of his office work while talking to you. You never called him out or told him to leave - all you did was invite him in further, keeping jars of honey and napkins on your desk.

Not once did you call him strange for his food habits, instead worrying about cavities while trying the coffee he had made for you.

It was pretty much expected that Kaldo was going to be in your office 9 times out of 10.

The both of you had discussed it once, as a little inside joke between the two of you.

"Maybe they think we're dating?"

You said this casually, although Kaldo's people-watching skills told him that the blush on your face was not from some sudden heatwave.

The implication had you blushing, and Kaldo wanted to savor it for a little while.

"My mom sent a letter asking if we're engaged, you know,"

He leaned in closer as he said this, as if seeing your reaction up close would ease how fast his heart was beating at that moment.

"There's rumors that we've been courting-"

"You're way too formal, Kaldo. Courting is a noble's thing."

He could feel your hair against his skin, and how your hands brushed against his on the desk. He was taking up your space, leaning in closer to stare at your face - trying his hardest to commit it to memory.

Your skin looked beautiful in the light of the dying sun, the windows behind the both of you giving him a glimpse of what you would look bathed in gold.

Kaldo let his hand overtake yours, testing to see how much of your space he could enroach upon.

"I don't mind it," you said this with a smile, one Kaldo only noticed because he was staring at your lips. "Maybe we should let them think that."

And you both had left it at that. It was like an inside joke to the both of you, whenever someone had asked the question-

Are you together?

Your answers would be between some wild response or a shrug. Now you held onto Kaldo as if he was your own personal teddy bear, but never said a word about it.

His personal space had become decidedly yours; as if to keep the little joke between each other a little more realistic.

Kaldo once kissed you and said 'no' and you had thought it was the funniest thing on the planet. He was going along with it, since he figured that it had gone unsaid that you both were going along with the rumors.

He only slightly hated himself for that decision.

It had started a game between the both of you, that had gone unsaid - going past just spending time with one another outside of being coworkers and friends, the both of you were everything that a couple could be without saying 'I love you'.

Kaldo found himself sleeping in your bed more times than not, and you were eating dinner by his side every chance you had.

It was impossible. Kaldo didn't know if it was still a joke or not whenever you kissed him goodbye; when you held his hand or when you talked to his mom as if you had known her your whole life.

Was it ever a joke?

He found himself floundering around each time he wanted to ask, because what does he even really say?

There weren't a lot of words he could think of when you would kiss him in the same abandoned closets he had shown you only months prior. It made his usual intellect fly out the window - he only thought with his body, trying to memorize the cavern of your mouth and the softness of your skin.

This would never help with the rumors; if either of you still cared about that.

At this point, he wasn't sure what either of you cared about. You were both distracted with your game, rather seeing each other than being interested in anything else.

It was really catching up to the two of you.

You were slacking on your work, and no one even bothered to ask anymore. Kaldo was with you, or you were with Kaldo.

It...really wasn't a joke anymore.

"Hey?"

Kaldo didn't know what to do when you pulled away, your lack of warmth making him feel cold for once in his life. His eyes looked around your face, as if to understand what the hell was going on through your mind.

It was the most impossible puzzle that had ever been put in front of him.

Your eyes didn't portray anything aside from confusion, which was exactly what Kaldo was feeling in that moment.

"Yeah?"

Seriously, what the hell were you two doing?

"Are you okay? You seem out of it."

You were blinking up at him, caught between staring at his lips and making eye contact. Kaldo knew he didn't have the prettiest eyes, but it was difficult to have a conversation with him when you were practically on top of him in a dusty closet.

"No, I'm fine. Just thinking..."

He had a lot of things he wanted to ask you, like if you were ever planning on being serious or if this was just going to stay a game between the both of you.

But he figured he should ask you in a nice place, like outside and in a garden somewhere.

"About?"

Your hand traveled around his body, traveling underneath his shirt and further untucking it. Kaldo was overly aware of how the fabric moved against his skin, and he had to breathe in deeply to stop the sounds that wanted to escape his throat.

This mess was like a tangled-up ball of string - Kaldo was never going to escape you.

"What happened to us?"

"Huh?" He could practically taste your confusion. Your tongue stuck out of your mouth a little, so close to his that he could smell his breath on you - like honey, and the faint smell of coffee.

"This isn't a joke anymore."

Your face practically glowed at that statement, averting his gaze nervously. It was as if he had caught you in a lie of some sorts.

Who the hell were you even lying to?

Kaldo took his hands and brought them to the small of your back, pinching at your ruffled jacket as he tried to meet your gaze once again. You were intent on not meeting his, staring at where the wall met the floor, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Can you please be honest with me," The last few months hung over him like a heavy heart, and he hoped you would give him the peace by giving him an answer. "What do you really want with me?"

You glanced at his face, and it pulled a blush out of you so red that Kaldo was sure that it matched the ribbons in his hair.

He leaned down, trying to have his eyes in your line of sight. You tried to pull your face away from his weakly, tossing quick glances towards him shyly.

"You weren't so shy just a moment ago babe."

It was hard to be shy as you were both practically one body, with your hands creeping up along Kaldo's skin even as you avoided his eyes.

"I just don't know how to answer. Aren't we good as we are?"

"And what is that?" Kaldo didn't know what emotion was bubbling up against his throat, making him want to close his eyes and hide like you were. There was a force stronger that compelled him to push you for a word - something other than 'the-guy-I-makeout-with-in-closets-and-also-work-with-and-live-with-and-also-pretend-to-be-dating-for-some-reason.'

Dragging the answer out of you was like eating caramel - sweet but also nearly impossible. It felt like he was biting and chewing forever, just to get a taste of what he wanted. He already had you in his arms, but it didn't feel like he was satisfied with having all of you.

At this rate, he needed a ring.

"Well everyone thinks we're, you know...together. Why don't we just be that?" You got the courage to look up at him, the answer only a near approximation of what you wanted to be.

"And you do want to be when mean by together?"

"You're just being an asshole now. You know what that means."

Kaldo felt your nails dig into his skin, as if a punishment for pulling the words out of you like this. It only made him smile, causing you to dig harder.

"I don't know if I do. My mom thinks we're engaged, but I heard some people think that we're merely courting. There's a big difference there, you know?"

"Together."

ignore that im ignoring my entire event, i have no concept of a schedule!

[chemerr2]

eyeless jack headcannons :O can be sfw or nsfw <3

thank you anon I NEED THIS MAN. i need all 4 of his legs in front of my face. -SEXYPAPINOQUE

SFW !!

ik this is probably one of the most popular headcanons but he’s warm. He’s THE heated blanket everyone needs during the middle of winter. He’s usually warmer in places people wouldn’t normally touch or go near. Like his armpits for instance but that’s ok cause he’s comfortable with you being THAT close to him and on top of that he’s not musty!! yay!

best head massages known to man. those longs nails of his make you foam at the mouth when he slides them through your hair, on your scalp and the back of your neck.

very clean. like VERY. he cannot stand having a cluttered space especially when it’s his work area we’re talking about. he doesn’t go batshit crazy tho if his room has like 2 socks on the floor 💀 just doesn’t like to be surrounded by complete filth. Even tho he can’t work well in small spaces given his physical appearance and amount of equipment— he reminds himself to clean as he goes.

responsible but only for himself and you ofc. His reasoning for this is because he’s grown, toby is grown and so is jeff plus the others so he shouldn’t have to tell a 23 yr old to clean up after himself or wipe the toilet after he pisses cause he didn’t aim in the toilet.

always pampers you and chooses you over anyone else. sometimes he end up favoring your priorities over his own and forgets to do important things for himself. You wouldn’t even have to tell him because he’ll snap back to reality once he realizes he hasn’t done a chore or task he told himself he’d do.

like the cool older brother or the older brothers cool friend who takes you to the store and buy things for your mom when she’s cooking dinner

speaking of cooking, he can’t make anything past a traditional american breakfast dish (eggs, bacon, toast, grits or rice) other than that he’ll warm up a corn dog or reheatable pancakes in the microwave

if he has tomatoes on his burger snd he knows u like tomatoes he’ll give them to you. He’d give you a whole jar of pickles and drink the pickle juice (vice versa if u love pickle juice as much as me)

he stands in front of the tv likes he’s made of glass💀

DRAGS you by your arm, shirt, or ear if he even slightly thinks ur gonna get into an argument with anyone, For the sake of you and himself because 1. doesn’t want u to fight anyone AND 2. don’t want you to get ur feelings hurt. yep

NSFW !!

rmbr when i said i need all 4 of his legs? 🤭 yeah he’s got 2 FATASS DANGLING COCKS.

ok let’s keep it realistic, he’s inexperienced but he’s not a vulnerable virgin, he knows what boojaina is, he knows what ur cervix is— he knows all of it and how much the female body can take.

his dick is wide so 1 inch of his demomic- hybrid 8inch cock takes up the full capacity of ur hole ifykwim.

it looks like he’s always had a boner but it’s just his thick and heavy cocks finally getting a good nights rest when you aren’t around.

Loves when you trace the veins on his cock and kiss his ugly circumcised scar on both his cocks. See i can get all into detail about the scar but y’all probably would get turned off. ANYWAYS

humps you. dry. all night, every night. Your smaller than him, even if someone says your big— to HIM your a delicate feather in his hand and he tosses you like a salad gently. He proceeds w caution when he gives you the nasties backshots

idc idcccc ur butt may not be big but when he gives u backshots it sounds like poseidons trident causing hell on sea.

horny dog?? nah horny bear. He literally locks you both up in his room or office and breeds you heavily like he’s trying to form a football team.

[demonslayedher]

What if nezuko and tanjiro were raised by Obanai and Mitsuri?

Whoa, I have never considered this. Let's assume an altered timeline, so, say, itty-bitty Tanjiro hid with almost-walking Nezuko in a closet when a demon killed their parents. Mitsuri and Obanai, who like one another and have sort of figured that out by they are awkward about where to take it from there (since Mitsuri doesn't want to make the first move but can't figure out why Obanai won't), arrive on the scene, and Kaburamaru finds the hiding children.

Mitsuri is instantly attached and wants very badly to make it up to these orphaned children whom she failed. Obanai is trying to tell her why that idea is irresponsible, but Kaburamaru has already become fiercely attached to the terrified children who find comfort in the cuddly snake. It's not as if Obanai can't relate to that, so he gives in, on the caveat that they will take care of them only until they can hand them off to someone more qualified.

They're first thought is Shinobu, but she already has her hands full. They ask the Kakushi, but the Kakushi insist that this is out of their skill set. They think of asking Ubuyashiki but don't want to bother him by setting a precedent. No luck at Wisteria Houses they come across, who are already doing all they can. Wishing to find someone with experience to adopt them, Obanai makes a desperate visit to Shinjuro, who yells at him to take responsibility and get what was coming to him by so idealistically becoming a swordsman. He announces to Mitsuri (who is already very attached) that they'll see their responsibility through.

Since the Kamado children stay at the Kanroji estate most of the time, this is what gets Obanai to finally meet her family, which pressures them more into considering the state of their relationship, especially they Obanai spends time with the children out of a sense of responsibility and Mitsuri, once the decision to keep them was made, wants to spend as much free time with them as possible. Being in a coparent relationship also forces them to confront Obanai's issues.

Both toddlers take to Mitsuri readily, and they like Obanai too, but they both (especially Tanjiro, who can talk better) are sensitive to him being sad. Obanai is nice and tries to be child-appropriate but answers very plainly and honestly when Tanjiro asks why he's sad, thinking that this is out of respect for a child's intellect. Poor Tanjiro wants to help but is often confused. Obanai is a little annoyed how buddy-buddy Tanjiro and Kaburamaru are but he allows it. As Tanjiro grows up and the snake gets older, Kaburamaru spends less and less time in battle with Obanai. Tanjiro is a dutiful son whom Obanai figures pucked up a lot of traits from being raised by Mitsuri, but he reminds Tanjiro to always be grateful to his original family who loved and protected him too. This makes him supportive (albeit concerned for his safety) when Tanjiro says he wants to fight demons too. Tanjiro eventually picks up Snake Breathing, though Obanai points out that he's not totally suited for it. (If it weren't for how annoying he finds Giyuu, he would suggest Tanjiro try Water Breathing.)

Mitsuri is less supportive because she worries about Tanjiro's safety. He is her wonderful son whom she loves very much, after all. But if he's sure he can accept the risks, she allows him to try.

Nezuko has grown up babied by her unckes and aunts and does not know the responsibility of being an older sister. She always wants to be just like her mom (but Obanai sternly put a stop her dressing up like mom, which made little Nezuko cry because she didn't understand why he was angry). She wears fancy kimono and makes sweets and wears long braids and goes to school, and is a dutiful and sweet daughter as she grows up. Despite having riches, this does seem to go to her head, and she still practices humilty and thrift, which really endears her to Obanai. He originally was a bit more standoffish from Nezuko, but Nezuko feels secure in his care for her even if it's nothing like the open, loving, huggy relationship she has with her adoptive mother. When Tanjiro picks up the sword, she insists on learning too, but Tanjiro and Mitsuri don't want this. Obanai lets her give it a shot, but she's too fiery for Snake Breath, and not physically capable of Love Breath, despite how much she has always done her best to imitate mom.

So Nezuko finally does something a spoiled brat would do and she runs away to ask Uncle Kyojuro for Flame Breath training. This causes a brief argument between Hashira but it is soon settled, and Tanjiro sort of wishes he had thought of that before getting so deep into making Snake Breath work for him. Tanjiro & Kaburamaru and Nezuko eventually go through the Final Selection together and begin a sibling journey to avenge their birth parents, with their adoptive parents giving them their blessing and watching over them from afar.

And then, having seem that through, Obanai is finally ready to get married.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Honestly why even bother making Jason afrolatino if you're not gonna write him as he is in canon when that's what actually'd make him work good rep for us.What i mean by this is

His ego is huge,he's super tough and an edgelord,has anger issues and brutal ass tactics and is a morally gray vigilante but he's ALSO a huge woman respecter to the point he thinks they're better than men,is extremely kind with a huge soft side and his exterior attitude and Red Hood are trauma responses that're framed as valid on his end so he's not the 'Scary Black Man' stereotype and with the exception of the vigilante part this is actually a pretty common personality type for irl black men-Important note that i don't fall under the attitude but i AM a black man(and woman)

He's been a huge nerd since he's debut in both meanings of it-He's a genius who was a star student in school and loves classical literature,theater and speaking articulately and poetically but just happens not to 24/7 since he's a comic book character,not a Shakespearen one

And his soft sunshine boy with hidden depths Robin self is a critical part of making him as black latino work-You can't go with the retcon of him as a mini thug because it's extremely dangerous stereotyping

Duke as his favorite brother-It's erasure with white gringo Jason but even worse and just stupid because both of them being black would it EVEN BETTER writing they're eachother's number one Batboy pick.Ain't no nigga picking Tim when the only other black guy in the factor is Right There and fuck ya aus,keep Jason white in them and leave afrolatino Jason out of your mess

He hasn't expressed a particular preference for girls he likes but HAS for the ones he dosen't and it's preppy perfect judgemental ones who try to 'tame' him so rip all y'all's white X Readers LMFAO.Worth noting that his canon girlfriends have been a half cambodian tomboy(Rose),an edgyptian butch(Artemis)and a darkskin black woman(Dana)and that he's actively rejected a white blonde girl on the basis of her being too normal(Isabel)and Kory post deblackification so i think it's obvious where his tastes lie

You CANNOT make him and Roy or Batcest a thing-I don't think i need to explain why pairing up a white man who knew an afrolatino since he was 14 and him grown with a daughter and putting him in incest is violently antiblack

Poverty is not inherently bad in black or latino characters and there was a point in canon where it was used as simply an element in Jason's story instead of demonization so use that edition.But making him a drunkard,a smoker or a sex fiend is 100% perpetuating stereotypes and he's canonically the opposite of all three so again,sometimes things that are canon are better

Him being tall and super jacked and intimidating looking can actually enchance it-He uses it to his advantage to get people he dosen't like to fuck off because they buy into the propaganda and gives him more deepness with the rest of his personality

This includes him being a real gamer and his neapolitan food addiction and your headcanons on his other tastes should follow their lead-His favorite characters should be black and latino ones(His favorite Marvel hero is Miles Morales,it's canon to ME),he should listen to black and latino artists,he should eat black and latino food and know how to make it for that matter,etc

Back to a Duke situation-You also can't make a white woman instead of Talia his adoptive mom for obvious reasons and imo if you're gonna make him and Stephanie besties,she should be black too for that black best friends and found siblings rep(She works as a black woman as much as he does a black man and i'll make a manifesto of that like i did him if asked).This applies to the Team Dad Jason take too in the sense that he should mentoring Damian and Nell and Tiffany since they're Batgirls instead of white kids

In summary what i'm trying to say is:If you're going to see Jason as an afrolatino man,you need to go beyond just the aesthetic and little bits you feel like including because you think they're appealing and actually write him as an afrolatino man,as Jason Todd and not some random guy

@nogender-onlystars @willieoo @mayameanderings @desi-pluto @insomniac-jay @vulnonapixes-dc-corner

[yankstrash]

meels was on the phone with her mom when gabe strolled into her room

"i got a-" she stops talking when she sees her boyfriend and gives him a little wave "100 on my last paper.. yes the history one.. mhm.. okay, well gabe just got here so i'm going to go but i'll call you later.." she puts the phone on her shoulder

"mom says hi" she says to gabe

he smiles, "hi mom, miss you."

meels smiles and brings the phone back to her ear, "he says hi and he misses you.. mhm.. okay i'll talk to you later.. love you.. bye."

she hangs up and puts her phone down, patting the bed beside her

"hi angel" she smiles as he makes his way over to her, leaning down to plant a kiss on her lips "i didn't know you were coming by."

"yeahhh" he sits beside her on her bed

"how was your day?" she asks as she puts a hand on the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there

he shrugs, "it was alright. how was yours?"

"good, took my last final and started packing my room." she smiles, but notices the lack of smile on gabes face

she gives the back of his head a couple scratches, "you okay?" she asks softly

gabe looks down as he fiddles with his fingers, "um.. i've gotta tell you something."

meels sits up a bit while keeping a comforting hand on the back of his neck, waiting to hear what he has to say

gabe sighs lightly

"wills signing."

the hand on gabes neck that was playing with his hairs stops moving

"..w-what?"

gabe just nods his head as he keeps it down

"he.. what?" meels asks again

"he's signing. a couple people from san jose are flying out tomorrow and he's gonna go to his parents to do it."

meels is shocked as she hears gabes words

will.. signing?

obviously they all knew this would happen eventually, but she along with their other friends were sure he would be staying at least another year

at least through sophomore year

another year of will

another year of the usa line

another year of the friend group

another year of post hockey game parties

another year of celebrating birthdays

another year of trips

another year of attempting to embarrass each other in class

another year of laughs

they were all anticipating another year of all these things

the bc friend group. one big, happy family.

and for meels, another year with the friends she had met and grown so incredibly close with after meeting her boyfriend at the beginning of this school year

"i thought he was staying another year?" meels asks

gabe shrugs, "i mean he never confirmed it, but... we kinda assumed he was. especially after lenny said he was staying."

gabes shoulders are sulked as he speaks, his head staring down at the ground the entire time

"so.. that's just it? he's leaving bc?"

gabe nods in response to his girlfriends question

"but, but.. bc. his families school. he's from mass. a-and winning a natty, and a beanpot! and worlds! and.. you."

"yep." gabe says very quietly

amelia doesn't mean to upset her boyfriend with her words, but she is shocked and overwhelmed at this news.

in the 8 months she's known will, she's learned so much about him. like how boston college is way more than just a school he's at to play hockey. and how he, ryan and gabe have been together and been linemates since high school. and how the main reason gabe himself chose to come to bc and play hockey is because of wills influence.

and now, after 1 single year, he's leaving.

she takes the hand that was on the back of his neck and rubs his arm

"are you okay?" she asks gently

gabe gives her a small shrug, and she knows he's not okay

she scoots closer and embraces her boyfriend in a tight, comforting hug.

gabe sighs into her shoulder as he fists her shirt

"i'm going to miss him so much." he whispers against her skin

amelias heart breaks at his words

gabes bestest friend in the whole world.. leaving. after all the years together.

"i know baby, i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry."

she's trying to hold herself together for gabes sake, but this is not easy news for amelia to hear either.

he is gabes best friend, but has also become one of her best friends. out of all his friends, she is closest with will. they have classes together, they tear up the dance floor together, they sing drunk karaoke together, they get rowdy at football games together, they go for sweet treat runs together

he has easily become one of her best friends, and favorite people to be around.

amelia doesn't even realize when tears start falling from her eyes

gabe notices immediately, and pulls back to look at her

"meels.." he wears a saddened expression as he sees how this news is affecting his girlfriend

she shakes her head and wipes her eyes, "i'm fine.. i'm fine."

he gives her another sympathetic look, and more tears fall from her eyes

"i'm really gonna miss him." she whispers

gabe nods, rubbing her thigh in comfort

"me too."

~

there is a knock on gabe and wills shared dorm room door, and at the sound of a faint "come in", amelia enters the room

she's met with the sight of will, packing his things

that sight alone is enough to almost make the tears start flowing again, but amelia fights them back

will smiles when he sees her, "hey."

she returns the smile, though it is much more faint

"hey" she responds as she closes the door behind her

will is aware that gabe left to go tell amelia the news, so he figured her presence was a result of that and not because she's here to see her boyfriend

"i think this is the first time you're over here for me and not gabe-o" will jokes

amelia playfully rolls her eyes at his words, but her smile soon fades

he knows she knows.

she's not too sure what to say.

what are you supposed to say when one of your best friends is unexpectedly up and leaving after you just built a whole friend group and had the greatest school year of your life

not to mention, how far he's moving.

a few moments of silence go by, as amelia is unsure of what to say. instead, the only sounds made are faint sniffles

coming from amelia

she couldn't hold them back any longer.

at the show of her emotions, will takes a few strides forward before embracing her comfortingly

he says not a word as he hugs his good friend tight against his chest

will and amelia are not the, "you're one of my best friends, lemme give you a big hug!" type of friends. they're more like, "you're one of my best friends, lemme jokingly insult and bicker with you until you're so fed up you wanna rip my head off.. lovingly!" type of friends.

that's just how they are. they bicker like siblings, always poking each other until the other snaps and getting on each others last nerves

but they have oh so much fun doing it, and it's made them the best of friends

but right now, in this moment, jokes aren't going to ease the sadness that amelias feeling

a big, tight hug from her best bud that's leaving her and all of them in 24 hours is.

this is one of the rare times will and amelia aren't cracking jokes and disrupting everyone else's peace, but she would take this a million times again before cracking another joke with will if it meant he was staying with everyone just a little longer.

"i'm going to miss you so much." she finally breaks the silence

"i'm going to miss you too, meels." will says softly

she sniffles and pulls back a bit, looking at will

"why... it's so soon, smit."

she feels bad asking him that, but she can't help it. her heart aches at this whole situation

"i'm just ready, meels. this is my dream, and i want it so bad. i'm ready for it."

she decides against bringing up all the obvious reasons he should be staying, as this is not the time and place for it

instead, she just nods and re embraces him.

"it's not gonna be the same around here without you."

will chuckles lightly at her words

"you won't miss me, cmon."

"oh yes i will. who am i supposed to make fun of every single day and try to trip every time they walk by me??"

"ryan is always fun to trip."

amelia can't help but laugh at his joke

she pulls back as both their arms fall to their sides

she takes a look around the room at everything will has already packed, making the mood turn back to serious

"so.. tomorrow?" she asks

will gives her a tight lipped smile and nods his head

"a couple people from the sharks are flying in, i'm gonna head to my parents in the morning.. i want to have one big goodbye with everyone, so you better be up for it."

"duh. of course i will be, dumbo."

and they're back to their normal selves

..almost.

she looks at will, and gives him a small nod

"i'm proud of you. i'm really, really proud of you, will. y'know i've thought you were a big headed idiot since the day gabe introduced us, but you've really become one of my best friends." she shrugs "not gonna be the same without you, but i'm happy for you. you're gonna be great."

will smiles and gives her another hug

"thank you meels.. love you, mean it."

"i know you do.. love you, smit."

[syrupfog]

Penguin can’t help but be a little disappointed when he finds out Killer’s age. 

The thing is, it’s not a big deal. In any way. They’re practically the same age, just like how Penguin and Shachi are practically the same age, and in a world where every year you’ve managed to stay alive is a gift, Penguin knows he’s lucky to still be here, fighting alongside the best crew in the world. 

It’s just that, well, Penguin is old. 

Not in that way where he’s hit middle age, or crested the hill or whatever.

But in that way where he’s always been old. He’s always had Shachi, for as long as he can remember, and he’s always been the older one. 

Then along comes Bepo and Law, and suddenly— although, sure, Law’s the captain— Penguin finds himself responsible for three kids instead of one

Not that he would ever tell Law he views it like that, but— it’s hard not to, when he’s watched him grow up, helped keep him steady in tough moments. 

It was always Penguin’s job to look after Shachi, and then it became Penguin’s job to make sure everyone was fed and together. And sure, he’s managed to take a back seat as the crew’s grown, but it’s a joke that comes around every year when his birthday does, that he’s the elder, the old man. Even after Jean Bart joined, the jokes persisted, and they just— wear on him a little.

Maybe Penguin’s tired.

When he started seeing Killer— in back alleys for sloppy neck kisses, first, and then later Officially, mingling between each others’ crews— Killer had just seems so larger than life. Literally. The man has a good few inches on him in height and even more in width. Penguin had just assumed, naively, that Killer was older, too. He acts as the older brother to a lot of his own crew, after all, barking orders and keeping them in line when they pull dumb shit. 

And Penguin feels stupid now for assuming it, but he had really liked the idea.

The idea that he’d found an older man. That he wasn’t the Adult anymore, that maybe he could just.. relax. 

So when he learns the truth, that Killer is Shachi’s age, he freezes for a moment. Has to rewrite their relationship in his mind. Feels that weight of responsibility again.

Killer, ever perceptive (damn him) (love him) picks up on his turmoil. “That okay?” he asks. “You upset I didn’t mention anything when my birthday happened?” 

“Well, yes,” Penguin says, because it is March now. “But I mean, that’s not—“ he draws a frustrated breath. “It’s fine.”

Killer gives him an unimpressed look. “Never known you to stop talking before the important bit,” he says. “What’s actually wrong? You’re not robbing the cradle, we’re the same age.” 

“We’re not the same age,” Penguin exclaims, kicking his feet up in the air.

Killer’s face goes carefully blank, which Penguin knows from experience means he’s trying not to laugh. “Okay,” he says slowly. “You’re right. You’re an old man compared to me, aren’t you?” 

Penguin somehow, at the ripe old age of 29, feels like the oldest guy on the Grand Line.

“Yeah,” he says. “I am an old man compared to you.” 

Killer huffs and stands up, dislodging Penguin from his lap, although Penguin squeaks in protest. 

“Peng,” says Killer. “What’s the actually about?”

“You’re making a big thing out of nothing,” Penguin says, but under Killer’s withering look he acquiesces. “I’m just— I’m always the old one, alright?” 

Killer raises his eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware you had that many previous relationships.”

“I haven’t!” Tugging on his hat, Penguin looks up, up, up from his spot on the bed to Killer’s face. “I mean, like, in life! I’ve always been the old one. The— Ikkaku calls me the mom friend.” 

Killer nods, thoughtfully. He grabs two flasks of water and tosses one to Penguin before returning to the bed. 

“Okay, so you’re the mom friend,” Killer says. “You’re not the mom boyfriend. I don’t need one of those.” 

Penguin snorts. “I’m sure you don’t,” he says, thinking of the way Killer manages to manipulate Kid into eating vegetables against his will.

Killer downs his flask and Penguin watches his throat hungrily. 

“What’s the problem then?” He asks, throwing the empty container aside. 

Penguin fiddles with the cap of his own. “There’s really NOT one,” he says again. “It’s just a, like, personal problem.”

“Mhmm,” Killer hums. 

“It’s like, I just— it’s selfish,” Penguin says. 

“Mhmm,” Killer hums, again. 

“I just want to feel like I’m not the responsible one, for once,” Penguin rushes out, voice getting squeaky, before he throws off the cap and gulps down the whole flask.

“Slow down there,” Killer says, pulling the drink away from his lips. “Okay, sure, that’s understandable.” 

“Is it?” asks Penguin. He doesn’t feel like it is. 

“Sure,” says Killer. “So with us, don’t be the responsible one.”

Penguin frowns. “I can’t just turn that off.” 

“I think you did just fine right up until you learned I’m the younger one,” Killer points out. 

“Y-yeah, but—“ 

Killer, in one fluid motion, surges over Penguin, capturing both his wrists in one hand and straddling his hips, pinning him to the bed. “If you don’t feel like you can stop being the responsible one,” he says, “I’ll just take the choice away.” 

He pulls Penguin’s wrists up the bed until his arms are taunt. Penguin’s face feels like it’s on fire. He tips his head back in order to slide his hat further over his eyes. 

“How’s that sound?” Killer asks, his breath ghosting over Penguin’s neck. “Can’t worry about being responsible if you’re not able to do anything either way.” 

Penguin might combust, actually. Definitely. “Yes please,” he squeaks.

Later, after Killer’s carried Penguin and his jelly legs to the bath, he starts making notes of what mental load Penguin carries. Because hell if he’s going to let HIS boyfriend get too bogged down in being the adult. 

Even if Killer does love having an older man.

[misc-obeyme]

One thing that i love about Diavolo's character is the great Angst potential he has. He lived a life of privilege and luxury while growing up. But he had grown up sheltered within the walls of the palace as an only child. The demon king, his Dad, not only "left" him when he was young cuz he lost interest in ruling and instead decided to "slumber" at the bottom of the Devildom, i'm convinced that he blamed Diavolo for the loss of his Mother, since it's stated that she died after giving birth to him. So Diavolo didn't had the mentor that he needed when he was young until he met Barbatos. He doesn't show it, but he's lonely on the inside. He can't show this side to anyone since he's the future ruler of devildom. I can imagine, every day, he would gaze out of his window at the bustling streets below, filled with commoners going about their daily lives. Burdened with the weight of responsibility. He knew that one day, he would have to rule over his people and make decisions that would impact their lives.

Now imagine placing MC into the picture, and this is something that i haven't seen the fandom talk about, i believe that Diavolo and MC can't just date normally like how you would with the brothers. Firstly, he's a Demon Prince, and MC most likely is a human commoner. Their union would most likely be forbidden by the laws (council of demons) of both their worlds, and any offspring they might have would be shunned by both demons and humans alike. (It's even Canon in the original game that humans and demons can't get married).

So, despite the pain in his heart, Diavolo knew that he had to let Mc go. He couldn't bear to see them with another, but he also couldn't bear to see them unhappy because of him. He once said that he wants to put Mc in a cage and keep them for himself in one of his cards, but he decides against it because he knows it's not right.

So imagine, he didn't want to feel those things he felt, but no matter how hard he fought against them, his feelings for Mc just grew stronger. With a heavy heart, he knew that he would always be there for Them, watching over them and protecting them from afar. He watched in silence as Mc found love with another human, a kind and gentle soul who treated them with the love and respect they deserved. And so, restless Diavolo would watch the stars shining brightly in the night sky on his balcony as he whispered a silent prayer for the human he loved, his heart heavy with the weight of their forbidden love. And as he thought of Mc, a single tear rolled down his cheek, a silent testament to the love that would always remain between them.

What do you think??

Damn, anon. Are you trying to break my heart????

Poor Dia! I'm pretty sure in the og he says that his father did blame him (or like... had issues with him because he reminded him of his mom or something along those lines). And he also talks about how he didn't really have anyone until Barb showed up.

I also think that the way he often expresses jealousy of the brothers having fun or being chaotic indicates that he wishes he had something similar. Likely because he's lonely.

But oh man, just having MC show up, but it makes it worse because he has to let them go?!? Watch them marry someone else??? Oh, the angst! The suffering!!

I mean, if MC stayed mortal, he'd have to deal with them dying eventually anyway, but at least he could potentially have memories of a life together with them. But in this scenario, all he has is the knowledge that MC was happy without him.

Anyway, I think you've got a really interesting set up here! And yeah, if you're going for angst, this scenario definitely delivers! Ouchies though 😭

[rip-quizilla]

I'm Not Crying, You're Crying (Eddie Cries While Watching Tarzan)

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 27: You'll Be In My Heart

WC: 653

A/N: Okay... so I may have gone a bit rogue on this one. I know the prompt list explained this one as 'navigating love on the road', but when I hear the words You'll Be In My Heart I can't think of anything BUT Tarzan. So here's the weird little bit of fluff I came up with.

Tags: College!Corroded Coffin, crying, Eddie thinking about motherhood and the role it's played in his life, surprise at the end. It's an AU... but not the way you might think.

Divider created by @strangergraphics

In one of the smallest dorm rooms on the USI campus, four twenty-somethings had gathered around a glowing screen on a rainy Tuesday night.

“Wait, she’s taking the baby into a fucking tree?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Yes, Grant, she’s a gorilla. Gorillas climb trees sometimes.”

“But what if she drops it?”

Gareth scoffed, chiming in. “This is a Disney movie, idiot, that isn’t gonna happen.”

“I just watched a baby gorilla get mauled by a cheetah!” Grant yelled, incredulity plain on his face as he pointed to the TV. “You think they’d show that but draw the line at babies falling from trees?”

“A leopard mauled the baby gorilla.” Jeff corrected. “Cheetahs live in the savannah, dumbass.” 

“Would you all kindly shut the fuck up?” Eddie silenced them all, eyes trained on the TV with rapt attention as he watched Kala climb up the gnarled branches of a jungle tree, Phil Collins’ You’ll Be In My Heart crooning through the speakers. “You’re missing it.”

The other three looked at each other, confused but too scared to ask why he cared so much about some kids' movie, and continued to watch until-

“Dude, are you crying?”

“No!” Eddie sniffed, wiping furiously at his eyes. “You’re crying!”

Gareth’s nose scrunched up. “Bro, nothing sad is even happening, the mom got a new baby and the baby got a new mom-”

“They’re happy tears, jerkwad!” Eddie bit back, punctuating his reply with another sniffle. “This whole scene is about motherhood and loving your kid no matter what and it’s fucking beautiful, if you had a heart you’d be crying too!”

Jeff and Grant were laughing- to their credit, it was quietly and mostly to themselves. Gareth put on a mask of mock-sympathy as he grabbed a tissue and handed it to Eddie. “Those are some big feelings you’re having there, huh buddy?”

Eddie scowled at Gareth, swiping the tissue from him aggressively. He blew his nose into it, but not without giving Gare the finger first. 

Gareth patted Eddie’s back. “That’s okay, let it out big guy.” 

Eventually, the chuckling subsided until everyone’s focus returned to the movie. However, that scene still lingered in Eddie’s mind- the message about motherhood that this movie drove home for him every time he watched it. How Tarzan wouldn’t have grown into the man he was without Kala; a man so sure of his decisions, who trusted himself because his mother trusted him first. How no matter what happened, she stood by him and allowed him to chart his own course in life. 

Discreetly, Eddie pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping on his screen until he’d opened up a text thread. Quickly, he typed out a message. 

Love you, mom ❤️

The reply was instant, as it always was. 

I love you too bud! Everything okay?

Eddie smiled to himself as he typed out his response.

Yeah, all good! Just feeling extra thankful for my mom today :)

He turned his eyes back to the movie after hitting send, keeping his attention on the screen until he felt his phone buzz once, then again a few seconds later.

Aw, buddy! 🥹 That made my day!

I’m so proud of the man you’ve grown up to be. I raised a good one 😌

Eddie smiled, pride blooming in his chest. He and his mom had been through a lot, but they’d made it through because they’d had each other. Eddie couldn’t imagine what life might have been like for him if he hadn’t had her by his side. Who would he be? What kind of man would Eddie Munson have become? 

Now, here he was at college with his friends- his band- with a world of possibilities ripe for his picking. Could he have even gotten here without her support every step of the way? 

Maybe, he thought, but I would have been a hell of a lot more lonely.

[tonyspank]

CHAPTER THREE | RECKLESS

Tara Carpenter x G!P Reader x Female OC

Warnings: kissing, fluff, short chapter because i want u guys to be happy one last time

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

It's been seven months since Tara and Sam brought you back to their community. You've settled into a routine and formed close bonds with the people there. Life has become more stable, and you feel a sense of belonging that you haven't felt in a long time. The community has become your new family, and you couldn't be more grateful for Tara and Sam.

Sometimes you'd go on supply runs; other times you'd take out groups of walkers, clearing the area around the community to ensure everyone's safety. The once terrifying world has become a place where you can make a difference, and you're determined to protect your new family at all costs.

You've grown close to Sidney, Tara, and Ethan the most. Sidney has become the aunt you've never had, always offering wise advice and comforting you during tough times. Ethan has become like a brother to you, always looking out for your well-being and making sure you never feel alone.

While Tara...she's... you don't even know how to explain it. She's a close friend, but at times it feels like there's something more to that, a deeper connection that you can't quite put into words. There's a magnetic pull between the two of you, an unspoken understanding that transcends friendship. It's both exhilarating and terrifying, leaving you questioning the boundaries of your relationship and what it could potentially become.

But, you don't want to risk anything. Especially since Iris is here. It feels weird to move on from her because, since the start of this apocalypse, the only thing you could think of was Iris and how much you missed your girlfriend. But, it doesn't seem like she feels the same way. You'd catch her and Chad being intimate and affectionate, making it clear that she has moved on.

Heather told you that Chad and Iris have been a complicated couple since they met at the community. Iris was stuck on you while Chad was pursuing her relentlessly. He even saved her life one day on a dangerous mission, which made her start to develop feelings for him. It's painful to accept, but it seems like Iris has found happiness with Chad, and it's time for you to do the same.

It's hard to accept that Iris has chosen someone else, but you know deep down that you can't force someone to feel a certain way. You deserve someone who loves you wholeheartedly and reciprocates your feelings. It may be difficult now, but with time, you will find someone who appreciates and cherishes you just as much as you do them.

"Ouch!" You grunt out, landing on your back. Ethan smiles at you, panting as he holds out a hand to help you up. You send him a playful glare before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you up. "How are you so good at close-range combat?"

You ask, still catching your breath. Ethan chuckles and says, "Cop dad. He taught me a few moves growing up," he explains, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "But ever since, you know, the dead and stuff, he's been on my ass about it."

You hum in response, "That's nice. Officer Bailey seems like a nice guy...when he's not sulking around the place." Ethan nods in agreement, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, he's been through a lot. Losing Mom really hit him hard. But he's trying his best to keep us safe and sane in this messed up world."

You give him a sympathetic smile, understanding the weight Officer Bailey carries on his shoulders. Despite the tough exterior, you can see the love and dedication he has for his family.

"C'mon! Chop, chop." Dewey says, interrupting your conversation and urging you two to spar more. You and Ethan exchange a knowing glance before playfully rolling your eyes at Dewey's impatience. You hold up your fists again, ready to continue the sparring session.

After about twenty more minutes of sparring, the session is finally over, and you're sitting cross-legged on the grass, catching your breath. Dewey walks over, a satisfied grin on his face, and pats both you and Ethan on the back. "Great job, guys," he says. "You're really improving." You exchange a proud smile with Ethan as Dewey walks away.

"I have a very serious question." You look at Ethan, curious about what he's going to ask. "What is it?" you reply, eager to hear what's on his mind. "Did you take my pudding from inventory?" You raise an eyebrow in surprise at Ethan's question. "Your pudding? No, I didn't take it," you answer honestly, wondering why he would think that.

Ethan thins out his lips, eyeing you suspiciously. He then sighs as he senses your genuine confusion. "It must've been Chad then! Ever since we've been returning from supply runs, every single one of my sweet snacks has disappeared." You tilt your head, considering Ethan's accusation. "Chad? Are you sure it's him?" you ask, curious about the possible culprit.

Ethan nods, frustration evident on his face. "I've noticed him eyeing my snacks before, and he always seems to have a guilty look when I ask about them," he explains. You hum a bit before turning your head to Tara, who was walking down the community's street, looking bored as ever.

"I'll talk to you later, E." Ethan nods in response, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches you jog over to Tara. "Hey, Tara."

"Hey, what's up?" Tara responds, smiling at you. "Not much, just wanted to ask if you maybe wanna hang out outside the walls for a bit." Tara shrugs, her smile never fading. "Sure, why not?"

"Cool, let me just shower, and I'll be ready to go." You quickly make your way back to your house, taking a quick shower before meeting up with Tara again. She greets you with a warm smile, her excitement evident in her eyes. "Ready?" she asks, her voice filled with anticipation.

You nod eagerly, "Mhm." You wave at Officer Hicks, who salutes back to you, opening the gate for you and Tara to exit the walls. You and Tara start walking away from the community, stealing glances at each other every now and then.

"I actually have a surprise for you." You say, breaking the comfortable silence. Tara raises an eyebrow, looking at you. Curiosity sparkles in her eyes as she waits for you to reveal the surprise. "Well, remember how you mentioned you liked horror movies?" you begin, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"I found this abandoned movie theatre not too far from here. Ethan helped me clean it up and fix the projector. We can have our own private horror movie marathon today."

Tara's eyes widen with thrill as she realizes the surprise. "You're lying!" she exclaims, her smile matching your mischievous grin. The two of you quicken your pace, eager to reach the movie theatre and begin your thrilling movie night.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" You ask Tara in a Ghostface mask, trying your best to imitate the iconic killer from the Stab franchise. Tara giggles and playfully pretends to be scared, but then responds, "Hmm, I think I'll have to go with It Follows. Elevated horror is where it's at."

You take off the mask, tilting your head. "Really? Elevated horror? What about Friday the 13th? Jason is a classic." Tara shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Sure, Jason is iconic, but I prefer the psychological depth and thought-provoking themes of films like It Follows. It's all about the slow-burning suspense for me."

"You're lucky you're cute." Tara chuckles and playfully nudges you. "Well, I guess my good looks give me an advantage in our horror movie debates." She winks, teasingly adding, "But hey, maybe one day I'll convince you to appreciate elevated horror too."

"Blah, blah, blah." You say, walking further into the movie theatre, ending up at a snack bar. You lean against it as Tara continues her argument about elevated horror. "Jason is just a mindless slasher. It Follows actually makes you think and keeps you on the edge of your seat." Tara playfully sticks her tongue out at you, daring you to challenge her taste in horror movies.

Rolling your eyes, you retort, "Please, Tara. A classic slasher film like Friday the 13th is a timeless masterpiece. It's all about the thrill and suspense, not overanalyzing every single detail. But hey, I'll give It Follows a chance if it means shutting you up for once." Tara giggles, knowing that you're just playing along and secretly enjoying the ongoing debates between you two.

You turn around, facing the snack bar, and reach for the old and expired candy box, that's probably been there since before the apocalypse. Your heart skips a beat when Tara does the same, your hands touching.

You both exchange a quick glance, causing a slight blush to creep onto your cheeks. It's in these small moments that you realize there might be something more than just friendly banter between you and Tara.

"You can have them." You tell Tara, chuckling a bit. She smiles, placing the box of candy in your hand. "Take them." You shake your head, "No, uh," you interrupt yourself with your own laugh. "If you want them, you have them." You set down the box of candy in front of Tara, who quickly picks it up, holding it in front of you.

"You think I want these?" Tara raises an eyebrow playfully, her eyes sparkling. She breaks eye contact with you as you stare at her, a lingering smile on your face. "Kind of..."

"They're like one hundred years old." she jokes, setting them back down. "Maybe that's your thing," she mutters, finally glancing back at your eyes.

The two of you stare at each other, caught in a moment of playful tension. The air between you is charged with unspoken words and a hint of curiosity. It's as if time has momentarily frozen, allowing the anticipation to build. Both of you are aware of the unspoken connection, wondering where it might lead.

It's been a while since you've been truly happy with someone, so happy that your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, so lost in the trance of the woman in front of you. She was perfect. Her perfect hair, her perfect eyebrows, her perfect eyes, her perfect nose, her perfect lips. Everything about her seemed meticulously crafted to perfection.

You smile wider at yourself, glancing between her eyes and her lips. Tara's heart has never felt this alive, pulsating with newfound energy. She knows she's attracted to you, that much is sure, but there's something more than just physical attraction.

It's the way you listen intently to every word she says and the way you laugh at her jokes as if they're the funniest things you've ever heard. There's a connection between you that goes beyond surface-level beauty, and it's that deep emotional bond that truly sets you apart from anyone else she's ever met.

But she's also scared. She's scared to get attached to you more than she already is and lose you to the walkers that lurk in the shadows. The fear of losing you to something beyond her control haunts her, making her hesitant to fully embrace the connection she feels.

She knows that the world is unpredictable and filled with dangers, and the thought of losing you to those uncertainties terrifies her. It's not that she doesn't want to fully embrace the connection, but rather, she's grappling with her own vulnerabilities and the fear of being left alone in a world that feels increasingly unstable.

However, another part of her says to do it. Take the risk and allow her to be happy, even if it's just for a second. Tara takes a deep breath, "I actually—"

She's cut off by you connecting your lips with hers, and in that moment, all her fears and uncertainties melt away. The warmth of your embrace reassures her that maybe, just maybe, taking the risk was worth it after all. Her hands grip your face, pulling you closer if that were possible, you wrap your arms around her body, holding her tightly as if she's going to fade away.

As your lips part, an intoxicating sense of contentment lingers in the air. Tara stares into your eyes, a hint of tears reflecting the depth of her gratitude. In that electrifying moment, she realizes that she has found something she never thought possible—a passion that is boundless and worth every ounce of risk. With a smile curving on her lips, she whispers, "What took you so long?"

You chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I finally thought of that heartfelt thank you," you reply, your voice filled with bliss. Tara giggles, her laughter filling the air like music. "I can't believe you remember that."

She leans in closer, bringing you into another quick and simple kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes glance between yours, her hand trailing your facial features. "I'm scared of losing you."

You gently take her hand in yours, reassuringly squeezing it. "I promise you, Tara, I'm not going anywhere," you say sincerely, your voice filled with love and determination. She smiles softly, her fears momentarily eased by your words.

"I actually do have a question." You tilt your head, waiting for her to continue. "Was...Iris the only person you had before...the outbreak?" You pause for a moment, memories of the past flooding your mind.

"Kind of...yeah. It's always just been Iris and her family. I actually met Iris a few months after my adoptive mother passed away...she was the first person I connected with after such a difficult loss. We quickly became each other's support system, and we started dating a bit after that.." You pause, a bittersweet smile on your face, as you recall the bond you share with Iris. "I'm just glad she's okay."

Tara nods, her eyes filled with understanding. "Thank you for telling me." You appreciate Tara's empathy and the safe space she has created for you to share your story. It feels good to have someone who listens and understands without judgment.

"You're finally back!" Heather says, bursting through your front door. You turn toward Heather, a smile spreading across your face. "I am." Heather lets out a loud groan, "Then can you please watch Iris? I'm supposed to be hanging out with Amber."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What's wrong with Iris?" You ask, concerned about Heather's sudden change in attitude towards Iris. Heather sighs and rolls her eyes, "She's sick, and she's been acting really cranky all day. I just need a break from her for a little while. So! Now that you're off your date with tiny Tara, can you watch her?"

You blush, "It wasn't a date," you mutter, not convincing Heather one bit. "But sure, I can watch Iris for a bit. Is there anything specific I should know or do while taking care of her?"

Heather shakes her head and says, "Not really, just make sure she takes her medicine and gets plenty of rest. She's been running a fever, so keep an eye on that too." You nod, assuring Heather that you'll take good care of Iris.

Heather exits your house, causing Amber to rise, "She said yes?" Amber asks her girlfriend, who nods in response. "Mhm," Amber continues, "I can't believe you're still trying to play cupid with Y/N and Iris. I'm pretty sure Y/N really likes Tara."

"Well, you never know. Sometimes feelings can change unexpectedly. Besides, Y/N did agree to take care of Iris, so maybe there's still a chance for them." Amber rolls her eyes playfully and says, "Sure, babe."

You knock on Iris's door, and a faint, "Come in." follows your knock. As you enter, you see Iris lying in bed, a wet washcloth on her forehead. You walk over to Iris and ask, "How are you feeling?" She looks up at you with a weak smile and replies, "I'm still not feeling great, but the washcloth is helping a bit." You sit down beside her and say, "I brought you some soup. Maybe it'll help you feel better."

You help her sit up, supporting her back with a pillow. Iris gratefully accepts the soup and takes a few spoonfuls, savoring the warmth and nourishment. She looks at you appreciatively and says, "Thank you so much for taking care of me." You smile and reassure her, "Of course, I'll always be here for you."

"Did Heather set you up to this?" She asks, a faint smile on her lips. You chuckle and shake your head, "Yeah, but still, I just wanted to make sure you're okay." Iris's smile widens, and she says, "Well, I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"Remember when Heather got sick and we all took turns taking care of her? It's nice to see that we have each other's backs." Iris says, not making eye contact with you. You start laughing, And it turns out she was faking the whole thing."

Iris's brows furrow, "What?" Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. "Yeah, she admitted it later. I didn't know she didn't tell you." Iris's smile fades, replaced by a look of disbelief. "I can't believe she would do something like that. That's really messed up."

"I mean...she did have to run the mile that day, I'd do the same thing." You shrug, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I guess we all have our own ways of avoiding running." Iris chuckles, shaking her head. "Yeah, but faking sick behind my back? That's a whole new level." You both laugh, finding peace in the moment.

Iris puts down her soup and stares at you. "You look happy." You smile back at Iris and reply, "Yeah, I guess I am. It feels good to just relax and have a laugh with you. You look like shit, though."

Iris chuckles and rolls her eyes. "Thanks, I appreciate the honesty. It's been a rough day." You nod sympathetically, understanding that it's because of her sickness. "Maybe you should try and sleep." You suggest, helping her lie back down. Iris sighs and nods, her eyes showing exhaustion.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I could use some rest." You tuck her in and dim the lights, creating a soothing atmosphere. "I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep," you offer, hoping to provide some comfort during her rough day.

"You could lay down too..." Iris mumbles, her voice trailing off as she starts to drift off. You hesitate for a moment, considering her suggestion, before deciding to join her. As you lie down next to her, you feel a sense of closeness and reassurance, knowing that your presence brings her some ease.

Iris places her head on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The sound lulls her into a deeper state of relaxation, and you can feel her tension slowly melting away. You gently stroke her hair, and mutter, "You better not get me sick."

Iris chuckles softly, her voice barely audible as she whispers, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you if that happens."

When Iris finally falls asleep, it's late at night. You slip from her grasp and leave, making your way to the inventory to see if there's any tea that could help her. Your heart drops when you see a figure standing in the dimly lit room, their back turned towards you.

They turn around quickly, and you let out a sigh, allowing yourself to relax. "Richie, you scared the hell out of me." Richie chuckles and apologizes, "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to startle you." Your eyes fall to the basket in his hands.

He notices speaking up, "Gale asked me to get this." You hum, "Do you have any tea? Iris is sick." Richie nods sympathetically and says, "Yeah, yeah. Here." He reaches into the basket and hands you a small packet of tea. "I hope this helps," he says with a warm smile.

Richie then walks away, basket in hand, leaving you standing there, thankful and confused. Maybe he was the one who stole Ethan's snacks.

[angelsanarchy]

Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 21

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf @kappasbbgirl @luzclarita57 @tempt-ress @starry-eyed-wild-child

Mike sat at the dinner table eating the food he picked up after his last drop off. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard Leff come in the front door. His boots hit the steps and Mike considered getting up but knew it would just make things worse.

"What time did you get back?" Leff asked tossing his bag on the table, almost knocking his beer onto the floor.

"8:30." Mike kept his head down as Leff plopped down in the chair at the end of the table, twisting the beer top and tossing it on the floor like an animal.

"How long you gonna walk around here looking like some lovesick pussy? It's fucking annoying." Leff snorted chugging his beer. Mike ignores him not wanting to engage but it only served to piss Leff off more.

"Jesus fuck, there's plenty of tail in New York Mikey. Just find someone else. Hell I can set you up with one of the chicks from the club that won't try to rob your stupid ass." Leff laughed trying to pull some sort of reaction out of Mike but he just shook his head.

"Have you always been this way?" Mike asked causing Leff to pause as he brought his beer to his lips.

"I mean the way mom talked about you, the way she talked about how you took care of her when you guys were little...I remember how you were when I was a kid too. You never talked about women the way you do now." Mike looked over at him and Leff looked almost embarassed but snarled his lip.

"The world isn't all sunshine and rainbows Mike. You think you can have some stupid fucking love story in this life? Pushing product, trying not to get shot, making sure the people you love don't get taken advantage of or junkied out." Leff pressed.

"So was it Mom that made you like this?" He reached out and slapped Mike in the side of the head, surprising him.

"Wake the fuck up Mikey! You want to be soft and chase after Y/n, you're either going to get yourself killed or you're gonna harden yourself to survive the bullshit." Leff pointed at him.

"I am who I am because I've had to survive." He lowered his tone and Mike went back to closing himself off. They ate in silence for a few moments.

"Look, Mikey...it's my job to protect you. I promised your mom that I would watch out for you so you didn't end up like her okay?" Leff explained. This was the most they talked about his mom since he got here. He knew it was a hard topic for Leff but it wasn't easy for Mike to acknowledge either.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me, giving me a place to stay, a job...but you know I gotta be my own man. You would lose your mind if the roles were revered Leff. Some grown man trying to dictate your life-"

"You think that's what I'm doing? Dictating your life? I'm trying to keep your ass alive." Leff raised his voice.

"Having my back is one thing but telling me who I can't date? Treating me like some stupid kid in front of the people I make drop offs to..." Mike explained and Leff shook his head.

"So what? You fuck around with Y/n and now suddenly you're a man? You can take care of yourself and you don't need anybody else?" Leff chuckled darkly like it was such a pathetic concept.

"I want to be with her. I'm going to be with her and show her that I'm someone she can count on." Mike explained.

"Yea good luck with that." Leff slide his chair out from the table and let the chair hit the oven, snatching his beer and his bag of food to take up to his room. Mike let out a sigh and knew it was useless. They were too different at this point in their lives and the response to losing his mom had hit them both differently.

Mike wanted to find someone to live each day with and be happy. Leff was content on being miserable.

[luke-shywalker]

he’s still a baby to me

I thought only girls did this sort of thing, Leia thought to herself as she navigated Han’s electric clippers around Ben’s head. Her fourteen-year-old son sat there, stone-faced, his knuckles gripping the edges of the kitchen chair.

Leia was currently performing damage control on a self-inflicted haircut. Ben had grown out his hair long enough to brush his shoulders, and he’d worn it like that for a few years, irritating Han to no end—but Leia knew Ben hadn’t cut it to please his father.

“Is everything going alright at school?” Leia asked carefully, sweetly, the same way she would on any other Friday night. But she knew that Ben saw right through that in an instant.

“Yes,” he muttered curtly.

“Are you feeling all right, sweetie?”

“I’m great.”

Leia paused, considering her next move like it was a game of dejarik. Honestly, sometimes it kind of was. Teenage boys were an unfathomable mystery.

Ah—she had it.

“I cut my own hair, once, too,” she said lightly. “When I was about your age. Women on Alderaan would always grow their hair so long—because of the traditional braids. I chopped all my hair off one day, just to give my attendants a heart attack, and had to wear hairpieces whenever I was out in public for the next five years.” She chuckled at the memory.

No response.

Gee, tough crowd, Leia thought.

Ben tugged at his long sleeves. These were the last days of summer, when school had already started but the air was still hot—not like the cool autumns of Alderaan, which had always seemed to come early as if to usher in the winter festivities as quickly as possible. But all summer long, Ben had been living in that same disgusting sweater, oversized and pilling—she had to force him out of it once a week to get it into the wash, and yet it still wasn’t enough to keep that old hand-me-down of Han’s from smelling distinctly of boy—

But a new thought had occurred suddenly to Leia, and her motherly instincts kicked into overdrive—teen angst—haircuts—scissors—blades?—and she found herself seizing his arm and rolling up his sleeve in one quick motion. “Mom!” he yelled.

But there was nothing to find. Only a pale, skinny wrist that hadn’t seen a single ray of sun all summer. She relaxed.

Kind of.

“I was…checking your eczema,” Leia fibbed. “Do you still put your cream on every night?”

“Yeeees.”

“Good boy.”

Nothing.

I wish I knew what went on in his head, Leia thought.

And then: …No. No, I don’t.

She remembered having her own share of teen angst, at his age—but, it had been quickly replaced by some very real trauma that had turned her forty years old at nineteen.

She had had some wild thoughts in her time. Scary thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. Did everyone, she wondered? Or, was it just her…?

Anyway…she had to trust that Ben would turn out okay. Just like she had.

…Force, she thought to herself as she turned off the clippers and dusted off her kid’s shoulders. Did I turn out okay?

She stood there a moment, staring at nothing, trying to figure out whether or not she had turned out okay, whether or not she was raising her son okay—but Ben interrupted her racing thoughts.

“Mom, can I go now?”

Leia blinked rapidly. “Yes, yes, of course, sweetie. Come back downstairs for dinner around six, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Ben, even though both of them knew he wouldn’t be coming down until twenty-seven “Ben, dinner”s after six-thirty. “Can I play hologames with Poe?”

“Are they appropriate?”

“You’ve literally killed people, Mom,” said Ben, and bounded upstairs, nearly tripping himself over his too-long legs. “You don’t get to tell me what’s appropriate.”

“Ben Solo, where did you pick up that attitude of yours?” Leia yelled up the stairs.

But that, of course, was a ridiculous question in this household, and one that didn’t necessarily require a response.

Leia sighed and stooped to sweep up the hair trimmings by hand. Her knees ached a little. The short locks of black reminded her of the thin wisps of hair she had saved, in a little traditional chest she had received from another Alderaanian ex-pat at her baby shower. She stood up again, and remembered how it had felt to carry him.

He’s still a baby to me, she thought, fingering the strands.

[yall-hate-kids-tourney]

Loser Round 1: Damian Wayne (DC) vs. Aang (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Propaganda below the cut

Damian Wayne:

Damian is a kid who was raised as an assassin and because of that when he first appears he has some really messed up ideas of how to prove himself to his father by being aggressive with the criminals they capture and attacking his brother. Because of this people act like he is the most evil character ever and refuse to give him any grace. They make him out to be this awful irredeemable monster who just wants to kill his brother and hurt people. If the fandom isn’t making his out to be The Worst(tm) then they are ignoring his existence all-together. He is a really interesting character who has done some not so great things but he’s grown and learned a lot through various character arcs (as much of an arc as a comic book character can have) and he deserves to be acknowledged for himself and not just as a villain so that people can woobify his brother.

——

HES JUST A LITTLE BABY GUY!!!!! Little baby man raised as an assassin and learning how to be a real person <3. But because he was kind of a dick and also a little stabby early-on, especially to the fandom's main "so sad uwu depressed baby" blorbo (and also he's not white), people treat him like he's satan incarnate

Aang:

Aang is a kid who was thrown into responsibility against his will and when he ran away he woke up to a world where everything and everyone he loved was gone. A lot of the decisions he makes that people attack him for are either a result of his grief and attempts to keep his people beliefs alive or his immaturity because his is literally a child. Also he is constantly getting slandered in ship wars because of the way he interacts with Katara in canon because he is often selfish with her and obviously that makes him such a horrible guy! (No he is just a kid who is stumbling through his relationships like all of us do.) Everything he does makes perfect sense considering his age and circumstances and I’m tired of people saying he should have done things differently. God forbid a traumatized child not act like a perfect reasonable angel with the mental capacity and communication skills of an adult. 

——

People are really over there saying the 12 year-old boy is a horrible and selfish person for refusing to murder a man !! He's 12 !! He's the last of his culture, which valued life and pacifism, and wants to keep that alive !! HE'S 12 !!!!!!!

People also like to pretend he can't understand another character whose mom was murdered because he believes it's important to Not let yourself be consumed by revenge, and is being self-righteous for asking her to Not go on a revenge quest (often in the name of shipping wars) when

1) His Whole People Were Killed, and

2) homegirl is 14, asking her to not kill someone when she doesn't have to, for her own good is literally the right thing to do

[m3nt4llyr4v3d]

As much as I have opinions on how Miraculous goes about its writing, damn are the ideas it brings up so juicy

Like I feel like there’s something to be sad about how everyone deals with their problems or their trauma. Like, so many of the characters have issues, and it’s so fascinating to think about the way they respond to them

Marinette has the entire safety of Paris on her shoulders and basically in a constant state of trying to fix things even when it shouldn’t be her problem in the first place

Adrien was raised to be as obedient as possible and doesn’t know jack about how to be a kid, literally has no ambitions at the moment, he’s constantly apologizing for things that feasibly wouldn’t be his fault and trying to fit whatever mold he thinks someone wants of him

Chloe’s mom left her and is verbally abusive and calling her daughter a failure for the entirety of Paris to see, so she lashes out at everyone around her and constantly uses her dad’s power. Also the fact that two fully grown adults manipulate her before she’s sent away, just awful

Nino’s best friend has the worst dad imaginable and he felt powerless about the situation wanting to help Adrien (seriously I hope they bring up Guilttrip sometime in the future it reveals a lot of really concerning things about the characters), so he tries to be the best bro to him and give him every experience he can

No idea what happened to Lila as her backstory is uhhhhhh, but that lying, the disguises (she literally came to school in one), and the fake identities had to have come from somewhere. I remember, before the whole 3-moms-thing, theories about her lying for attention because her mom is never home and she’s genuinely lonely, using a scene where she’s talking with Nino and looks actually upset as evidence, so that’s something to consider

Luka’s dad left, and he basically became everyone’s therapist, which he really really really shouldn’t be. We’re told he’s this chill, go with the flow dude, but when your response when hearing your current girlfriend (or at least the in between friend and gf) still likes someone else and saying “I already know that”, that’s just concerning. Dude’s everyone’s therapist, but is anyone checking on him?

Juleka has anxiety and still has unresolved issues with her dad leaving and coming back and (my memory is fuzzy here) not really interacting with her? She’s quiet and keeps a lot of emotions just bottled up cause she doesn’t express them verbally

This is stuff off the top of my head, but damn. As much flack I like to give to this show, thinking about stuff like this is what keeps that little part of me who loved the show years ago alive. Like, I genuinely don’t care what some of the characters have done, I think all of them need a hug and as much therapy as possible

[church-of-lilith]

Whatever you do don't think about young mid 20s Trent Crimm having been bullied so badly for being different and gay that he can't stand it anymore, shoves it all inside and marries a woman, tries to leave the gay life behind. And she loves him, but she doesn't know him at all, not the real him, and how can he risk losing her by telling her?

He grows more bitter and unsatisfied every day, and his articles show this. Soon, he becomes cruel- these athletes are strong and manly, it all comes so easy to them, people adore them, shower them with love, and then he goes home to an unhappy wife, and she's unhappy because of him, because he just can't make himself right, can't fit into this life, can't be who the world wants him to be.

So he tells her, and regrets the words as soon as they come out. But she chuckles, "Come on, Trent, you're not serious. I know we've been having some problems lately, but I love you, okay? We can work on it. We can be happy again." It's an out, an option to take the words back, and so he does. And they decide to work on their marriage. They decide to have a child.

And for the first few months, his daughter is all that matters, and he's happy. This precious human being, she deserves a good father, and he wants to be that for her, to give her a happy, united family. A mom and dad.

But the high highs are followed by lows lower than he's experienced in a long time. His wife's kisses leave him feeling hollow. His heart is weak and empty, and he yearns for something to make it beat again.

One day, when his wife is at the park with their daughter and he's reorganizing his closet, he stumbles upon the purple American shirt, the one he got from his summer boyfriend in university. His hands tremble as he picks it up, presses it against his nose. He hasn't washed it since. It still smells like him.

He sits at the edge of his bed and cries. He remembers his kisses, the days they'd spent together at camp; the nights, too. He longs to have them back, just for a moment. But then he remembers his father's face when he found out. He remembers what followed.

He has a family now, a responsibility. He's made his choices, and they're wise. His father invites him over for Christmas, congratulates him on his promotions, plays with his granddaughter. Respects him, despite his failures, his many mistakes.

He shoves the shirt back in the closet. He will keep thinking about it for a few days, but then he'll forget about it again.

He's had his job at the Independent for a few years, and he's grown a bit bored of it. But news come of a managerial change at AFC Richmond, and he knows it's about to get interesting. The new owner must be losing it after her very public divorce; why else would she hire a dumb hick from God-knows-where USA, who's never touched a real football in his life, to coach her Premier League team? This guy is uneducated, dumb, undeserving of this privilege. This guy is going down.

An interview is arranged, and he's the man for the job. He'll give the fans what they want. He'll eviscerate this clown in the papers. His boss will give him a pat on the back. His colleagues in the press room will look up at him with respect. His father will call him and they'll have a laugh about this clown together. Who does he think he is, to come all the way to England and take this job from someone who knows a damn thing about the sport?

But Coach Lasso is, to Trent's surprise, competent. He knows how to work with people. He wants Roy Kent to be a leader, and he knows what to do to get that result.

He's also kind, genuine, warm. He spends hours at the school, kicking a ball around with some kids. He stays there longer than any other coach would have. It's not just a tactic to come across as sympathetic in the article, to soften Trent's perception of him. He actually cares.

And then he invites him to dinner.

Trent is starving, of course. Hasn't eaten anything since his plain breakfast that morning. They walk to an upscale Indian restaurant. Interesting choice. He wonders why he picked this place, in particular. It all becomes clear when he introduces his friend Olly.

The food is too hot. He can't eat it. Curse his middle-aged stomach and his eating habits over the years. Now he can't even handle a bit of spice. And by the looks of it, neither can Ted, and yet, sweating profusely and gasping for air, he still eats both their meals. He can't embarrass Olly in front of his family, he says. He has to show his respect.

"To me, success is not about the wins and losses."

What a stupid thing to say, and twice in a day, no less. They were in his office hours ago when this dumb phrase last came out of his mouth, and Coach Lasso was getting changed, his shirt unbuttoned- but Trent can't think about that right now. The American just gave him exactly what he needed for the article- a reason to mock him.

"It's about helping these young fellas be the best versions of themselves on and off the field."

Oh, God. That's all he wants, to help these young men, and here Trent is, attempting to take him down. But this man doesn't want to destroy this club, he just wants to help. To help them get better. Most of all, that's why he's here.

Who has he become? The man in front of him has been nothing but generous, considering, inviting all day. Strike that, actually. Since he's arrived in London. And what has Trent done, besides being cruel to him? Hurting him? Bullying him?

"I really should go. Deadlines and all."

"Yeah, gotta do the work. I'll say this, though. I really enjoyed getting to spend this time with you, Trent".

And he actually means that.

He writes the article as soon as he gets home. He admits to himself how much he wants Ted to win. He probably won't, but he desperately hopes he will. Why shouldn't he? Why shouldn't a kind, good man like him prevail? Why was this world built for the Rupert Mannions and the George Cartricks of the world, and not for Ted Lasso? Why is Ted the one being called a wanker on national TV, in stadiums, on the street ?

Prove them wrong, Ted, please.

His wife and his daughter have already gone to sleep when he sends in the article. The apartment is dark, quiet, and a chilly breeze is coming in through the window that's been cracked open in the bedroom. He climbs into bed, careful not to disturb his wife. The rush of the interview has worn off, and he feels strangely at peace. He closes his eyes, allows himself to think about Ted in the office, getting changed. About his warm voice, about the gleam in his eyes in that Indian restaurant. About "What do you love?" and "I'm about to hallucinate from this heat here".

He thinks about that press room, about seeing him up there, in the light. He falls asleep to one certitude.

He can't wait to see Coach Lasso again.

oh anon now you have me thinking about it!! so much!! how are you gonna casually drop this absolute masterpiece in my ask box?? I don’t feel that I’m even deserving of this, it should be on ao3 or something??

The way you put all the little bits and pieces of backstory James Lance has given us together to paint this perfect image of season 1 Trent is so incredibly impressive to me. Like this is exactly how I picture his journey and you put it together perfectly.

The little bit about him finding the Ashland University shirt in his closet and yearning to have that young love back again, despite repressing himself so deeply all these years… so incredibly heartbreaking and beautiful.

And then Ted comes in and suddenly Trent remembers what it’s like to find real, true joy in what he does. For once he’s not garnering his satisfaction from putting other people down, and writing scathing pieces about them. Instead he finds himself smiling down at his screen as he sends that first article in, Ted’s kindness and compassion for others lingering in the back of his mind. Ted’s undying enthusiasm leaves him genuinely excited to see what comes next, makes him go against everything he’s ever conditioned himself towards. And he can’t let anyone else know, not yet, maybe not ever. But he holds the beginnings of this change close to his chest, while he decides what to do about it. While he waits to see if Ted Lasso really can succeed with kindness alone. Maybe if he can, it’s possible for Trent, too.

thank you for sending this piece of writing in anon! honored that you chose to share it with me. if you don’t write fic on ao3 already you should!! I’d love to read more of your thoughts/ideas.