#socks loafers shoes daddy

[socksandstirrups]

Contestant on "Love Connection", late 1980's

[namjooning-to-the-moon]

BTS MTL- Buying you clothes as gifts.

Authors note: My first MTL! Thank you guys for the 200 notes on my BTS headcanon I posted a few days ago.

Please remember these are just my opinions.

Warnings: slightly suggestive if you squint

Most

Taehyung

Most of the gifts he buys you are going to be fashion related.

Dresses, tops, shoes, he’s buying it all for you.

You want it? He got it.

Loves doing it though because you guys are the fashionista couple.

Knows what looks good on you and knows what he likes to see you in.

Has learnt your style well, so is always confident you will like his gifts.

Sends you photos from brand instagram accounts for your thoughts.

If you like it he’s bought it.

Couples outfits are going to happen.

Will buy you full outfits because he gets carried away.

Will want to take you on a date the same night so you can wear his gifts.

If he’s away on tour or on a schedule, expect a pair of Gucci heels to turn up on your doorstep with a cute note attached. 

Spoiling you is his full time job next to being an idol and this is just one way he does it.

Hoseok

Gift giving is one of his main love languages and he loves buying you clothes.

He’s also a fashionista so expect this a lot.

Also knows your style well.

When he goes to fashion shows he’s making mental notes on what to buy you.

Also likes couple outfits.

His phone lockscreen is legit a photo of you two in a stylish slightly wild couples outfit.

Loves taking you on shopping trips and spoiling you... because he has highkey sugar daddy vibes ok, I don't make the fucking rules.

Will take you to every store he can and will encourage you to try on everything you want.

Will also pick out clothes for you to try on.

You know those guys that look like they hate their life while waiting for their woman in the changing room?

Not this man.

He lives for it.

Give him his own private fashion show, he loves it.

Jimin

Loves buying you clothes so much.

Also knows your style well enough to make good choices.

Dresses are his favourite to buy.

Sometimes they are girly and sometimes they are sexy.

I see Jimin being into Selkie dresses don't @ me ok.

Not as into couples outfits but likes to be matching.

Same vibe or colour pallet kind of matching and have one item that’s the same.

You guys have his and hers loafers.

Goes out to buy clothes for himself, but is just sending you photos of things he wants to buy you.

Highkey loves buying you lingerie.

Probably buys you lingerie more than clothes that you can actually wear out.

At this point he knows its a kink but he doesn’t give a fuck. It’s not his fault you look good in it all.

Jungkook

Loves it but has a unique way of going out about it.

Its rare he will buy you a dress or heels but what he will buy is stuff he loves, but also knows you will love.

Why? Because then you will wear it too.

Goes to stores with the thought, I love it but will you love it too?

It’s a highkey kink seeing you in his clothes so if you both like his clothes you will wear more of them right?

Challenging Namjoon for that IQ with these moves.

We all know he's kind of possessive™ perilla leaf debate

Will also sometimes buy you the same shirt as him anyway so you can wear it together.

You better believe you guys have matching stompers.

Matching socks fr.

Hope you like Ironman

Makes him such a soft boy when you guys match.

Jin

Not really his vibe tbh.

He will buy you pyjamas though.

Constantly.

Jin is the resident pyjama king so you need to be his queen. Those are the rules ok.

Matching couples pyjamas for days.

Buys you mainly ones that will keep you cosy but occasionally he goes skimpy.

You know those silky shorts and tank sets with the lace? Yep, he’s weak for those.

Will deadass buy you onsies.

Loves to cuddle you in them, you are like a giant plushie to him.

Sometimes he does like to take you on a shopping trip and buy you something pretty.

He will probably get distracted by a cute jumper for himself.

Says he needs to stay as worldwide handsome™ as possible now he's just bought you the most world wide beautiful outfit.

^ Legit the jumper he buys

Namjoon

Not his vibe.

He prefers his gifts to be meaningful and thoughtful and just feels material possessions like clothes don’t show that.

You are more than capable of making better clothing choices than he can probably make for you.

He will make exceptions though.

Sometimes he will see something like a really cute scarf and he can’t resist.

He would see those tartan Burberry scarves and love them, so he gets you one with your initials on you can have them monogrammed fr.

Loves it because it still feels thoughtful and knows you will love it.

If you wanted some particular clothing as a gift he would still buy it for you, he just won’t be doing it without prompt.

You will not catch this man going to the store though.

Send him the website link with your size because this is not his area of expertise and he does not know what size you are... just that he's into it.

Yoongi

Not his vibe either.

This man is not endorsing the capitalist machine.

Also on team thoughtful and meaningful gifts.

He does have an exception though.

Yoongi is a secret soft boy™ and we all know it.

So sometimes he just gets his card out and gives it to you.

Tells you to go crazy.

Yoongi has lowkey sugar daddy vibes and I can't explain it.

Looks forward to you coming back and showing him what you bought.

He would never date someone who was materialistic so these rare moments are his way of showing you that he knows you love him for him so he wants to spoil you.

Least

[dancingazaleas]

zeke yeager | pta meeting

i literally don’t know how to shut up about him

also this is all because i saw a drabble of dilf!zeke and it’s been on my mind nonstop

warnings/notes: dilf!zeke, fem!reader, cursing, eventual smut, zeke is a divorced/widowed dad(at 33), reader is 21, cursing, zeke has a mean daughter and a sweet daughter, breeding kink, overstimulation, brief choking, slight degradation, shit one shot i’m sorry

you swear to the lord that zeke’s 11 year old daughter is a menace to society.

she’s brutally honest, just like zeke, and mean. she’s oddly mature for her age, and you think it might have something to do with her late mother. she looks almost nothing like zeke, but she certainly inherited her personality from him. she’s got curly dark brown hair that ends at her armpits and zeke’s grey eyes. she has a button nose along with rosy cheeks, something else she inherited from her mother.

“y’know my daddy only dates you cause you take care of me and aloisia,” isolde says to you as she slips on her school shoes.

you feel your eye twitch as you turn to zeke’s other daughter, aloisia, who’s seven and looks exactly like zeke. she’s got his nose, his hair color, and even eye shape. she’s got hazel eyes and a slim face. she’s as bubbly as they come, always greeting people she passes by on the street, always making friends at the park.

“i’m ready,” she holds up her small hand to you, a silent request for you to hold her hand.

“same,” isolde stands up after she swings her back pack onto her back, brushing off the nonexistent dirt on her navy blue skirt.

“zeke, the girls are ready!!” you shout out, taking aloisia into your arms.

zeke comes stumbling out of his bedroom, a white sleep shirt covering his torso and grey sweatpants.

“you’re going in that,” you raise an eyebrow at his attire, “we’re going to a parent-teacher meeting, not the gym.”

“yeah daddy, my teachers are gonna think you’re a bum or something,” isolde snickers.

“i’ll help your dad, go watch tv for a little bit longer,” you chuckle at zeke’s pout and put down aloisia, who runs to the couch.

isolde takes off her backpack and joins her sister on the couch, putting her feet on the coffee table as aloisia puts on avatar: the last airbender.

“i thought the dress code was casual,” zeke furrows his brows as you take his hand and lead him back into his bedroom.

“it is. sweatpants are not casual, they’re lounge wear,” you snicker as he flops onto the bed while you close the door and go into the closet.

you know zeke’s rolling his eyes at you, judging from his silence. you grab ahold of a white button up with light grey vertical stripes on it, trying to picture your boyfriend in the shirt. you shake your head and put it back on the rack, deciding that the default outfit would be best for now. you take a white button up off the hanger and grab a pair of black dress pants from his dresser. you hand him a pair of black loafers to go along with it and some long black socks that would cover up his ankles, you’re so glad you reminded him that they exist. you throw a black belt next to him as well.

“this is boring.”

“zeke, this is a pta meeting, the whole thing will be boring,” you watch him rid himself of his shirt.

“should i wear a tie?”

“no, you’ll look better with one button undone,” you smile as he struggles to balance correctly when he puts on his pants.

he tucks the shirt inside his pants and slips on the belt with ease. he unbuttons a button before he slips on his socks.

“i thought today was my day off,” he smirks at you while you roll up his cuffs a bit.

you roll your eyes and he slips on his shoes. he doesn’t need to do his hair, it’s just effortlessly neat.

“time to go,” you scurry to the front door with the girls following behind you.

“he doesn’t look homeless anymore,” isolde notes when zeke follows you all out of the door.

“not funny,” he huffs while he locks the door behind him and the girls get into the black SUV zeke drives.

you help aloisia buckle herself up in the car seat and then slip into the passenger’s seat next to zeke. he’s grumbling something about ‘uncle eren’ and ‘getting the girls’ as he turns the car on.

————

you try to ignore the women ogling zeke as you all walk down the school hallway. you send isolde off to her class since her meeting is after aloisia’s.

“i hope you’ve been good,” you say to aloisia, who’s holding both your’s and zeke’s hands.

“i have! ms greene says i’m one of the best,” she gloats, and you hope for zeke’s sake that ms greene isn’t bluffing.

you three walk into the second grade classroom, which is empty because you reserved the appointment, only to find the teacher isn’t in there. it only seems to make aloisia more excited as she tugs you and zeke towards the class wall with a bunch of pictures of it.

“look, look!!” she jumps as she points at her’s, “they said to draw our family and she said i did a good job!!”

the picture is a messily drawn family portrait of zeke, isolde, and aloisia.

“you drew (name) very pretty,” zeke smiles at you when you snap your head back to look at the picture in closer detail.

there you are, stick figure holding hands with zeke’s and aloisia with isolde on zeke’s other side. you never expected to be on aloisia’s family portrait, you’d barely been in her life for two years and weren’t exactly motherly. you’re a struggling college student that she occasionally sees crying at the kitchen table with zeke comforting you from behind. she, on very rare occasions, sees you come home, absolutely plastered, with a sober zeke leading you to his room. you’re the woman that wakes her up when you cry on the couch late at night. you were, admittedly, okay with not being seen as their mom.

it wasn’t your place, for so many reasons. one, you didn’t exactly act as a role model. two, you could never replace her mother and would never try. three, zeke never referred to you as such. you’d only ever act like their mother whenever you were in certain situations. but that didn’t mean you didn’t want them to see you as a maternal figure.

it made you want to cry, but luckily you didn’t. you just smile at the picture and pat aloisia’s head in approval.

“you did do a very good job,” you smile down at her and before you can give her a hug, you notice a woman walking into the room.

“oh, you must be zeke yeager, aloisia’s dad! i’m ms greene,” her face flushes while she holds out her hand for him to shake.

“yea, that’s me. it’s nice to meet you,” he shakes her hand.

she turns to you, “oh my goodness, i didn’t know aloisia and isolde had an older sister!”

“no, she’s my girlfriend of two years,” zeke chuckles uncomfortably.

“i’m (name), nice to meet you,” you wave your hand, “i’m just here to keep an eye on aloisia while you two talk.”

zeke and her go to a table in the corner of the room and aloisia drags you towards a bookshelf.

thirty minutes of aloisia rambling about her favorite book go by seemingly quick, and you watch as she cheers when her classmates walk into the room. zeke’s walking towards you, holding a thumbs up with a cocky smile, for whatever reason.

you kiss aloisia goodbye, who doesn’t seem too fazed, and head towards isolde’s classroom. you hold hands with zeke while swinging them back and forth while he repeats everything the teacher’s said to him.

“i can’t believe my little girl’s at a third grade reading level,” he exclaims, “that vocabulary studying did wonders!!”

“you should thank me since i was the one who studied with her cause she asked about my assignments for class,” you taunt and laugh when zeke pulls you closer by the shoulder.

that’s how the two of you walk into isolde’s classroom. she’s sitting at a table with her teacher, miss dunst, and fidgeting with her thumbs anxiously. she’s covering half of her face with her hair. with the one eye you can see it looks puffy and her cheeks are red, as if she’d been crying.

it has both you and zeke rushing to sit down on both side of her, zeke asking miss dunst what happened while you tend to isolde.

“hey, why are you crying,” you’re squatting by her chair and you reach to brush the hair out of her face.

when you see her other eye, you gasp out at the black eye starting to form on her eye.

“oh my god, zeke, look at her face!!”

“that is what i wanted to speak about with you. isolde has been getting bullied by some of her classmates. today, a little girl hit her after isolde defended herself while they argued,” the poor woman looks sad watching you and zeke check isolde for more wounds.

“why has she been bullied? she’s not mentioned this to me or (name),” zeke asks while examining her eye more closely.

“well, during the first day of school, isolde introduced herself and told the class about her family. she mentioned you, mr yeager, and her sister. the kids asked about her mother before i could stop them and she was honest with them and said that she had passed. she then said that she still, in a way, had a mother. your girlfriend, mr yeager.

“i asked her occupation, to which isolde said a college student. the kids got loud but i managed to quiet them down, and i thought it was the end of that. after that, her classmates started to pick on her verbally about your age gap and her late mother. i didn’t find out about it until this morning when isolde was hit,” miss dunst frowns as she explains.

before zeke could open his mouth, you speak up, “i’m the girlfriend, (name). i am hoping that these children will be punished accordingly and that their parents be notified. if this has really been going on all year like you say, then at this point their parents should be involved.”

“of course! i’m giving all of their parents a call after classes today. the little girl who hit her is sitting down with the principal right now, so she should be safe if you two would like her to stay at school.”

“give us a moment,” you smile kindly, which she returns, and walks to her desk to give you ‘privacy’.

“isolde, why didn’t you tell your daddy or i about what was going on,” you ask while she hugs zeke.

she peeks her head out of his chest, “didn’t want to seem weak.”

“why would you be worried about that,” zeke asks.

“after mom died, you were always so sad and stressed. i thought that if i was strong, you would be happier,” she explains shakily.

“isolde, look at me,” you put a hand on her knee, “you were six years old when your mommy died. six year olds shouldn’t know how to accurately take care of themselves, it’s why your daddy was there. i’m sure your daddy appreciated the effort, but i promise you that all he wanted you to be was his happy little girl. you don’t need to be strong at 11 years old, and you don’t need to be strong all the time. like you said, your daddy was sad when your mom died. it didn’t make him weak, it made him a person. and that’s what you are; a person. a little person.”

she sniffles and nods at you, “people can’t do everything by themselves. i’m sorry if we made it feel like you couldn’t tell us, and it’s totally understandable that you felt that way.”

zeke hums in agreement, “we love you, baby. so much.”

“love you too,” she mumbles with a small smile.

“do you want to stay at school,” zeke asks, he didn’t want to force her into a situation where she didn’t want to be.

“i have a math test later, don’t wanna miss it,” she sighs, now looking up at you.

“(name)...?”

you tilt your head while you wait for her answer.

“i’m sorry i’ve been so mean to you. everyone was making fun of me and called it weird, so i guess i wanted to believe that too,” your heart warms whenever she looks away shyly.

great, now zeke’s horny from seeing you act motherly.

————

ever since you and zeke had stepped off school campus, one of his hands was always touching you. it didn’t matter where, zeke was shameless.

even as you unlock the door to the his house, he has his chest pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around your waist. his lips are kissing softly at your neck and his hands are shamelessly groping at your boobs.

“zeke, what is up with you,” you laugh whenever you open the door, kicking off your shoes immediately.

“horny,” he admits, swiftly following after you and locking the door behind himself.

“what about this morning made you horny,” you ask shyly while you sit on the couch.

zeke’s buttons are halfway undone and his belt is somewhere on the floor. he squeezes in behind you, once again pressing his chest against your back.

“acting maternal, i guess,” his beard tickles the back of your neck as he kisses it.

“is this why you told isolde it was okay if she wanted to stay at school,” you snicker at his fingers pulling your shirt over your head.

“why else,” he scoffs, “my only day off in a while and i’m horny. sounds like a deal.”

you whimper whenever he starts biting at your neck and when his large hands slip under your bra.

“zeke, if we’re gonna do it on the couch, can i at least lay on my back,” you ask while zeke unclips your bra.

without a word, he’s thrown you onto the couch on your back and climbing on top of you seconds later. your hands quickly unbutton the rest of his shirt, pushing it halfway off of his body.

zeke throws the shirt onto the floor and kisses you, hands running up and down your torso. he pulls away to kiss and suck at your neck while his hands grope at your tits. you’re stuck between laughing and moaning at zeke’s beard dragging against your neck.

his mouth trails down to your tits, mouth attaching to your left tit while he continues to grope your right one. you let out a moan whenever he tweaks your nipple with his right hand and bites softly at your left nipple.

he pulls away from your chest, tugging off your pants and panties in frustration. it leaves you laughing and assisting him. whenever your pants do come off, he throws them to the ground and spreads your legs.

“zeke, they’re not opening too far, we’re on a couch,” you note, but soon stand corrected as zeke grabs your ankle and puts it on the back of the couch.

“nevermind,” you snicker at his cocky smirk, as if he’d done something amazing.

your other leg hangs off the couch, leaving you spread open for zeke. zeke spreads open your glistening folds with thumbs and gives a mindful lick up to your clit. after realizing that his beard is not rubbing against you uncomfortably, he dives in like it’s a pool, which he thinks it is because of how wet you are.

his mouth his sucking on your clit vigorously, as if he were a man starved. you’re moaning wantonly as he suddenly ups the speed. how did he even go that fast, you have no clue, but either way you enjoy it. your back in arching off of the couch and your toes are curling as zeke starts bringing you closer to an orgasm.

“zeke!! i’m... i’m gonna come,” you tug at his hair as your legs start to convulse and close around his head.

he only goes faster, and you wonder to yourself if zeke is powered by batteries or something. but the thought is quickly shut off whenever you finally orgasm, moaning out in ecstasy and throwing your head back against the couch cushions.

zeke slows down his pace, helping you ride through your orgasm. he pulls away whenever you’ve calmed down, fingers immediately pressing at your tight entrance.

“zeke... i-i’m too sensitive,” your complaint goes ignored as two of zeke’s fingers are suddenly inside of you.

“don’t care, deal with it,” he huffs as his fingers stretch you out.

with his other hand, his thumb is rubbing at your puffy clit at the same time of his fingers curling inside of you. your hips buck up with a mewl and zeke chuckles at the sight. unlike last time, he’s moving his tantalizingly slow.

his fingers curl once more, rubbing against the spongy part inside of you sweetly. you buck your hips up again at the contact and curl your toes whenever zeke starts abusing that spot with overwhelming speed. curling his fingers against the spot each time he pistons his fingers in and out of you.

“zeke!!” you come again while moaning his name and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants.

zeke chuckles when he pulls his fingers out, spreading them apart to watch your juices stick together in strings. he plops the fingers in his own mouth, rubbing his other hand up and down your quivering thigh as he pulls away from your sloppy cunt.

he pulls his fingers out of his mouth with an obnoxious ‘pop’ and pulls off his pants and boxers at the same time. he groans at his cock hitting against his lower stomach.

you stare at zeke’s cock. the tip is flushed with a bashful pink and his hair is trimmed nicely against his groin. he’s more girth than he is length, a whopping 6.5 inches, which is something he absolutely gets arrogant about.

“hurry,” you huff while watching zeke fist his cock.

“nah, you gotta beg for it, baby,” the corner of his mouth tugs upwards as he watches you wipe away your tears from the previous orgasm.

“zeke,” you whine and wiggle your hips, “please please please give me your cock. need it so bad.”

he hums thoughtfully, and it already gives you his answer.

“please... i want it so bad, need to be fucked by you,” you pout but perk up at his dismissive shrugging.

“since you want it so bad,” he’s laughing while he puts his right hand on your pelvis and his other on his shaft to enter you.

you gasp at the feeling of him pushing inside of you, grabbing for his, now, free hand. when you catch his hand, you guide it to your bruised neck for him to grasp on. he’s chuckling once again, fingers lightly squeezing against your throat as he continues to push himself in.

he groans whenever he bottoms out, letting go of your neck to grab at your plush thighs. he pushes the towards your chest and thrusts into you shallowly after he spits on his cock buried in your pussy. he hits you deeper than he would’ve before, that much is obvious by your moans raising octaves when he starts to thrust roughly.

your hands reach up to grab the back of his thighs to pull him closer to you than before. he’s groaning at the feeling of your pussy squeezing onto him each time he pulls out and thrusts back into you.

“fuck... zeke!!” you cry and throat your head back.

“fuck,” he grunts, “you’re so fuckin’ tight. even after how much i fuck this pretty little cunt each week.”

his words make you whimper and squeeze your grip on his thighs, making crescent moons into the skin.

“i’m gonna come... i’m gonna come again,” you pant out, back already starting to arch, “come with me please..!”

he speeds up his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass getting increasingly louder as he does so.

“you wanna come with me so badly,” he asks tauntingly while you nod.

“god, zeke, please,” you try to ignore the saliva and tears on your face as you continue to scream out for zeke.

“i’ll give my sweet girl my cum since she asked so nicely,” he’s biting his lip whenever he feels his orgasm getting closer.

“yes! yes! please,” you sound so desperate as your orgasm gets closer, “zeke, please, fuck a baby into me, please..!”

zeke almost comes right then at your pleas, but ends up stilling and adjusting his stance to thrust into you more efficiently. the sudden stop makes you whine but it’s soon interrupted with a gasp as he jackhammers into you harder and faster than before.

“fuckin’ whore, wanting me to fuck a baby into you. to make you a mom. since you asked so nicely, i’ll oblige,” he berates.

“you me to fuck a baby into you? make you a mom?” it has you nodding frantically.

zeke continues to degrade you as you’re orgasm comes rushing towards you, fingers now clawing at his thighs as a signal.

zeke thrusts into you two more times before the two of you manage to orgasm simultaneously. his jackhammering slows into a grind, helping the two of you ride out the euphoria you’ve both just went through.

you whimper whenever he pulls out, uncomfortable at the sudden emptiness in you. he watches his cum start to dribble out of you, telling you to keep your legs up. he scurries off to find a paper towel or something to wipe it up with before it falls onto the couch. you shiver whenever you feel a wet cloth wipe away the dribbling cum.

he’s wiping down your chest and neck as well with a clean side of it after you put your legs down. he carries you off into his bathroom, sitting you on the counter while he readies the shower.

“i can’t believe you said that,” he raises a questioning eyebrow at you while he checks the water’s temperature.

“i wouldn’t mind having your kid,” you shrug and watch him put two towels on the counter next to you.

“i might just give you one, don’t say that,” he jokes as he starts to hug you.

“‘m okay with that,” you sigh and lean into his touch, enjoying his warmth.

“you’re stupid,” he snorts and kisses at your shoulder.

“only for you,” you snuggle your head into his neck with a giggle.

“i love you,” he sighs.

“i love you. enough to have your kids.”

maybe in a few hours when you weren’t bathing in the afterglow, zeke would bring it up to you.

[thisisthehardestthing]

Claudia, I am so fucking proud of you. I always knew you'd reach 1k followers and beyond, you're amazingly talented, kind, and an overall beautiful badass that I am so lucky to have in my life! How about Scorpio (das me) and "Touch yourself for me" with Ushijima? 💋 you can pick your favorite kink to add!

HI BEAUTIFUL! THANK YOU SO MUCH! I am sorry this took so long to write, but I wanted to have the perfect inspiration for you.

I hope this makes you tingle and twitch, I tried to.. uhhhh... drive it into your kinks and to make it relevant to you.. at this moment.

PROFESSOR USHIJIMA X READER

18+, “Touch yourself for me.”

warnings: teacher/student relations, the word daddy.

You lean against the classroom door frame, trench coat tightly tied around your waist, water droplets dripping to the floor from the heavy rain outside. You can see it splattering against the windowpane, illuminated golden against black from the lamp on Ushijima’s rather large desk. You knock, three consecutive taps to pull him from his intense focus.

“Working late, professor?” you call, a sly smile curling on your upper lip when he looks up to see you standing there.

“Exam papers,” he grunts, then his eyes rake over your body in a cool sweep. “You’re dripping all over the floor. Take off your coat.”

“Yes, Sir,” you push off, closing the door behind you as you step into the room.

In the dark, the beige of the trenchcoat is soft, glittering as you untie the belt and let it drop to your feet. Ushijima drags a deep breath through his teeth.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, eyes peering over the top of his slim frame glasses, marking pen frozen, bleeding a red blotch into the paper.

“Is my exam in there? Have you marked it yet?” you ask innocently, playing with the very end of your high school uniform tie. You hop up to sit on a desk, crossing your legs so that the grey pleated skirt flashes a hint of thong before it disappears and your legs clad in knee-high white socks cover his view. Ushijima shakes his head, lifting the pen with a mumbled curse before he aligns the papers beneath it and puts it in his ‘finished’ pile.

“You failed,” he says, keeping his mouth neutral, but his eyes flash with the tell-tale sign of desire. You pout.

“Oh no! I can’t believe it. I studied so hard,” you exaggerate, pulling your voice into a moaning plea. “What can I do to fix it, professor?”

You loosen the tie so it lays open around your shoulders. Slowly, your fingers begin to unbutton the top of the crisp white shirt, ironed to perfection.

“I’ll do anything.”

Ushijima raises an eyebrow, folding his glasses away as you unveil the edges of a black lace bra to him, holding up your bountiful breasts. You keep your back taut and upright, the skirt cinching at your waist.

“My daddy will be so mad if I fail,” you unfold your legs, opening them so that they bend over the edge of the table. Your toes tingle with the naughtiness of it all. You want to giggle and bite your lip, almost like an actual school girl. Electricity shocks through you at Ushijima’s groan, at how in the dim light his eyes drink in your soul, reflecting you in their whiskey tone. You’re getting drunk from his gaze.

“I think we can work something out.” Ushijima remarks, folding his broad arms over his chest, the navy fabric pulling tight over his biceps. He stands, the pleats in his grey slacks falling beautifully down, coming around to lean against the edge of his desk. A fire blazes through your core, unconsciously clenching as you hold your breath in.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your hands instantly fly to your knee caps, stroking up as you keep eye contact. Your black loafers already dangle off your toes, and as you widen your legs, one falls to the floor with a soft thud. Your heart beats in your throat, you touch the hem of your skirt, dragging it up so that it rolls under your fingertips until it hits the fold of your hips. Ushijima glances down at your black, silk thong, the way the material almost glitters from how you’ve begun to soak through.

“Naughty girl,” he muses, never looking away as your fingers squeeze the soft skin of your inner thighs. “So wet and you haven’t even done anything.”

You keep your eyes on his face, watching him as he watches your hands dance over the fabric, pulling the edges so that it folds neatly between your lips. He licks his.

“You should tutor me more, Professor,” your voice comes out in a breathless whisper. “Show me how.”

“Go slow.”

You toy with your outer lips, stroking the soft skin under his watchful eye. He gives an approving hum, shifting so that he’s more comfortable to watch you. You see the strain of his erection in his pants, and you almost double over when the intense need to be impaled on it overcomes you. Your fingers find your clit.

Electricity hums through your body as you rub tantalising circles over the slick fabric. You bite your lip, eyes drifting to his large, veined hands, picturing them around your throat, on your thighs.

“‘Toshi,” you mumble, every circle winding you up, your eyes fluttering as you struggle to keep them open.

“Don’t you dare look away from me. What would your daddy say if you fail at this too?”

You snap, a hand planting itself behind you with a bang as you lean into it, fingers circling faster and faster, keeping your gaze on his stern eyes. They intoxicate you, and right when you’re about to burst, he moves away from the desk to grab your wrist, effectively halting your movements. You gasp, feeling utterly dwarfed by him. He pulls your hand away, bringing it up to his face as he inhales the musky scent of you.

“Why’d you stop me?” you almost cry, panting as you feel his cock press against the bone of your groin.

“I want to give you a more... private tutoring,” he murmurs into your hand, kissing your fingers. “Tell your daddy you’re not coming home tonight.”

He pulls you into a fortifying kiss, making you thankful that you’re sitting down otherwise you would have collapsed. He would’ve caught you.

“I can’t believe this uniform still fits,” he mumbles against your lips with a small smile. You grin back, arms slinging around his broad shoulders as you pull yourself off the desk and against him until your toes touch the ground, loafers slipping back on. He steps back as you fumble with the other shoe, walking to slip your coat back on with a teasing bend forward. He growls, making you giggle.

“Come on, Daddy. Let’s go home so you can teach me a lesson.”

[akaashisbabydoll]

KARASUNO TEAM: fashion aesthetic

Daichi Sawamura

Wow like everytime you see this guy the only thing you can say is WOW DADDY or just me idk. Anyways, he loves to wear plain shirts with  plaid pants, he’s never boring when it comes to pants. He doesn’t usually wear jeans. He loves to fold his sleeves to show that damn guns, sometimes he wears necklace and most of the time he wears belts. He got a whole bunch of ‘em. He usually carry a jacket but doesnt wear it if its not that cold, its just for aesthetic purposes. he doesnt wear watches. Loves to wear white shoes and doesnt carry a bag.

Kōshi Sugawara

This guy knows how to flex those cardigans. He looks so good with cardigans im crying its like cardigans are equal to Sugamama. He knows that cardigans and his full beauty is not enough so he mixes it with modern fashion and that’s ripped jeans. He loves to wear black and white colors and whatever is near to that color. He loves to wear adidas shoes. The only jewelry he wears is ring. He wears it in every finger. Like Dadichi, I mean Daichi he also collects but not belts tho, cardigans. It’s all cardigans.

Asahi Azumane

Jisas, he loves fashion. He usually doesn’t limit himself when it comes to fashion because he knows that with a pretty hair and a pretty face, everything goes with it. But his main aesthetic is plain polo and dark pants, he overlays it with long jackets to let people know how great his physique is. He always put his hair in a bun. Doesn’t usually wear any jewelries. Favorite shoes? Converse. If you don’t see him carrying a laptop bag, he doesn’t carry anything. Just wallet and his phone. He simple like that.

Yū Nishinoya

Our adorable skater boy look. He doesn’t skate. He just loves to wear vans and gray shirt. He loves to overlap his shirt with a denim jacket. He got different types and shades of denim jackets. The only shoe color he wears is black and if its not vans, he wont wear it. He wears glasses sometimes to put some accent on his aesthetic. There’s nothing wrong with his eyes, he just loves to wear glasses. Most of the time he wears sun glasses though. Horseshoe buckle belt is the type of belt he always wear. Thats the only accessories he wears.

Ryūnosuke Tanaka

This guy loves to wear oversize clothes. Dark at the top and light colors on the bottom because he cool like that. He never forgets his beanies, that’s his collection. He loves to wear chained necklaces. He wears any shoes he wants as long as its white. He always wear socks, he doesnt like to show his skin unless you’re his team or you’re Kiyoko-san. He also loves to wear rings, he got ton of it. Sometimes he wears reading glasses too like Noya, there’s nothing wrong with his eyes. Just aesthetic.

Chikara Ennoshita

Ah plain angel. Everytime you see him he’s always neat like he shines so bright with neatness. His clothes are always ironed. He brings a bag with him because he carries a lot of important things like sanitizers, wipes or dry tissue and similar to those things. He loves to wear loafers, he doesnt usually wear anything besides loafers unless there’s some special occasions. The only accessory he has is wrist watch, thats it. His shade is in between brown and red. He doesnt go bright at all. Unlike Daichi, this guy loves to wear jeans up unto his ankle and long sleeves polos. He doesnt wear hats because it’ll ruin his hair. 

PART 2 HERE! ➡️ (HERE)

note: got this photos from pinterest credits to all the rightful owners

What team should I go next? Open for request! <3

[4hornyoldermen]

Went to the local Home Depot yesterday(sunday) and got hit on and picked up by a 70yo man. He was well dressed in blue button down shirt, khakis, and super shiny burgundy penny loafers. I was in white button down shirt, bowtie, black trousers and black Cody loafers.

I was in the garden when he approached me. I was looking at plant food for my wife🌹.

I didn't see him coming, but hear "excuse Sir" I turn and look, and he said "l have to tell you this quick as my wife won't be long getting what we are here for, but I couldn't help but notice, you getting out of your car and how well dressed you are. And now that I stand this close, I love the bowtie and nice shoes. I'd love to worship you for an hour and maybe you can fertilize my🌹bud for me." "Oh here comes my wife, meet at the local park in 20mins and I'll pick you up, I am dropping her off at a friend's house for a few hours."

Well I took my chance and went to the park, he showed up, we chatted and agreed to go to his place down the road. We got in his car and on our way, when we got to his house, he said come out back to my greenhouse, we stepped in and he made it known what he wanted, he reached to my crotch and fondling me and unzipping my trousers, reached in. He stepped to the back of the greenhouse and came back with a piece of carpet and a stool, and a clean towel. He put the towel on the stool and carpet in front of it, he opened my trousers the rest of the way had my sit down and he got on his knees. Before he really got going, I told him to take off his trousers and mine fully. He answered "yes sir", stood up slipped his off and put his loafers back on, and then slid mine off over my shoes. He got back on his knees and showed me his oral skills for a bit, and I played with his cock and balls in his boxers with my sheer socked foot. After him licking and sucking my cock, I said show me that 🌹bud that needs to be fertilized, and he stood up with a hard-on in his boxers and a wet spot, and I said "I guess that was feeling good, foot on your cock & balls" and he replied "yes sir, but I have a hard time cumming". With that he pushed his boxers down and his small but nice cock popped out and he turned around, bent over and leaned on the flower bed in front of him, said "sir there I a tube of lube in my trousers pocket. I bent down and got the lube, and put some on us both. I started to enter him slowly, and his moans, just made me want to, go at it hard quick, but I went slow for a bit, till he said, stop teasing me and give it to me already", so I picked up my pace, slapping my balls against him with every short stroke and long stroke, his moans turned to yelling, "oh yes good and hard, daddy likes it that way" & "you are getting close I can feel the throbbing building up, burry it in me", and I said "your neighbors are going to hear you and tell your wife". With that he pushed himself tight against me and I shot. He yelled out "oh my lord" & "and I'll take my chances". Once I didn't feel my cock pumping anymore cum, but I was still hard, I started to stroke in & out of him some more and I reached around to his balls. I could feel his balls were good & tight and full, and I want him to have a good release. So I ask how the time situation was, he looked at watch and said good, so I told him to get on his knees again. He did and started to lean into my cock. I stopped him and put a foot in his face and told him to worship my feet.. he started to rub, lick, suck on my foot and my other foot was at his crotch again, and I felt his cock getting hard and starting to throb, I pulled foot away from his face and placed it down with my other foot, and a nice foot job was started, and he starts to moan again. I tell him, if you are feeling what I think you are, don't hold back and don't worry about my soaks, I want you to cum on them. Just then he grabbed my feet and held them, and I felt the warm wetness of his cum. I didn't have to tell him what to do next, as he started to lick his cum off my sock.

We got redressed, I put his shoes on and he put mine and he drove me back to my car.

I think I need to goto Home Depot more often dressed up.

[piratewithvigor]

burn bitch burn, shandi, tears are falling

Burn Bitch Burn - Do your best awful impersonation of yourself.

Hi, I’m Arin. I named myself that after the Game Grump and I think I’m super quirky because of that. I think liking Classic Rock and having daddy issues are personality traits and I would 100% bone Kelsey Grammer.

Shandi - Think of that sense of sadness you feel leaving a dead mall or other dated place you have positive memories of but has been falling into disrepair. Where have you felt that the most?

I have no idea if this place is still open or not, but there was a gas station/convenience store/McDonald’s at the end of the road I used to live on nearly 11 years ago. The corner of the building had a big red tower and the McDonald’s arches were at the top of the tower. In the dead of night, it would be super vibrant against the sky. There would be plenty of times where we would be coming back from a family road trip of some kind and I would see the big red tower and the big yellow M and know that we’re almost home. Since I used to get a little bit carsick a lot of the time, that would about be the moment where it all went away. Even though it’s been years since I’ve seen that building and years longer since I’ve lived there, it’s always given me a shitload of homesickness for a place I can never go back to.

Tears Are Falling - What’s the absolute worst outfit you’ve ever worn? Pictures are a bonus.

Oh hell, this one is gonna be bad. 

As part of an 80s Day, I once wore a red silk shirt with shoulder pads, a silver belt with a huge buckle, yoga pants, leg warmers and loafers. 

On a regular day out, I once wore a bowler hat, black pants, Alcatraz socks, a white tshirt that said “Let’s Love Bees” and black shoes.

But the absolute worst was my John Travolta cosplay. I had dress pants and a black jacket that I stole from my brother, but my white shirt closed with a string for some reason and had no buttons. Beyond that, I also slicked my hair back and made a bolo tie out of a shoelace and a clip-on earring. Unfortunately no pictures exist. They were all promptly destroyed.

[lesgetittkookie]

she’s so precious - jeon jeongukk

i wasn’t kidding when i said more dad!jeongukk was to come :) 

➼ warning: mentions of breastfeeding & also domestic af 

➼ words: 2k

➼ pairing: jeongukk x reader

After ten painful hours of labor, you and Jeongukk were finally able to hold your daughter in you arms. She looked so small bundled up in a baby pink blanket that was gifted from Jeongukk’s mother. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Jeongukk holding her in his arms, cooing at her and kissing every part of her face repeatedly. 

You watch from the hospital bed with a tired smile on your face despite how sore you felt throughout your entire body because Jeongukk holding your baby girl in his arms is a sight to see. 

“My little angel,” He speaks in a soft voice as he watches his daughter sleep contently in his arms. 

“Guk?” You say in a raspy voice. 

He looks up quickly when he hears you, “Yeah baby? You okay?” 

You nod with a small smile, intertwining your hand with his free one. He brings it up to his lips, eyes not wavering from yours as he kisses it softly. 

“Do you need something?” He asks you. 

“I wanna shower. I feel and look gross,” You pout and Jeongukk wants to melt on the spot at how adorable you looked. 

“I think you look beautiful,” He tells you and you playfully roll your eyes. 

“You always think I look beautiful. I could have one eye and no teeth and you’d still think I look beautiful.” You say to him, causing him to smile with his bunny teeth that you loved so much. 

“Because you are beautiful and I love you,” He tells you, eyes filled with warmth and endearment. 

“I love you too,” You whisper back, shutting your eyes as you allow his thumb to stroke across your knuckles. 

“Do you want me to call the nurse?” He asks and you nod, opening your eyes again. 

“Yes please,” You answer back before adding, “Let me hold our little one,” Your arms reach out for the little bundle of joy in your husband’s arms. 

Jeongukk grins, standing up from the chair to carefully place your sleeping daughter in your arms. The sight of your daughter immediately brings a bright smile on your face and you couldn’t help but lean down to give her face kisses. 

He watches the both of you with adoration in his eyes, his heart and stomach full of love at the sight of his two girls. He loved the both of you so much and all he wanted to do was protect you. 

“I’ll be right back okay?” He whispers against your forehead after giving it a quick kiss. 

You nod, pecking his cheek and you watch as he leans down to kiss your baby too. He then walks out of the room to get the nurse while you lay on the bed with your baby girl in your arms. You still couldn’t believe she was finally in your arms after carrying her in your womb for nine months through weird cravings and mood swings.  

Jeongukk was there throughout the whole pregnancy, taking time off work once you had gotten closer to the date because he didn’t want to miss out on the small things. He was there to deal with your bitchy self when you felt like everything was becoming a little too overwhelming. 

“Your daddy and I love you so much. We couldn’t wait to see you. And now you’re finally here,” You whisper to your sleeping baby, “He’s going to spoil you so much. And so are all of your uncles.” You smile, thinking of Jeongukk’s six other best friends who still have yet to meet their niece. 

You look up when you hear the door open again, Jeongukk walking back inside with the nurse in tow. She gives you a sweet smile as she comes over to you, looking down at the baby in your arms and cooing softly. 

“How adorable,” She says before walking towards the cabinet on the right side of the room. 

Jeongukk sits on the chair beside your bed again, his elbows digging into the mattress as he holds his chin in his hands. He watches his daughter sleep peacefully in your arms. 

“Just like her father,” He says, causing you to roll your eyes and the nurse chuckles. 

“Okay I just to disconnect some of your wires,” The nurse tells you. 

“Okay,” You kiss your daughter’s forehead before handing her back to Jeongukk who gladly takes her in his arms again. 

“Need help?” He asks the nurse who shakes her head in reply. 

“It’s alright,” She reassures him. 

He watches you with caution as you slowly get up from the bed with the help of your nurse, holding onto her arm as you limp towards the bathroom at a slow pace. 

You were so strong, Jeongukk thought. Going into labor without any pain medicine given to you. You were able to push through for ten hours, screaming in agony but being able to get through it with Jeongukk’s encouraging words. 

“I love you,” He whispers to the baby in his arms. 

++

“Alright baby, you got everything?” Jeongukk asks you, kneeling onto the ground as he helps you slip on your fuzzy socks. 

“Mhm,” You answer him as you scan around the room to see if there’s anything you might be forgetting. 

It’s been almost a week since you’ve given birth and the doctor finally discharged you from the hospital. You were ready to go home and rest in your own bed, tired of being hooked up to the machine and not being able to eat anything other than the bland hospital food. 

Although, when Jin decided to visit, he did sneak you some food he cooked which you were extremely grateful for. You had been ignoring the glare Jeongukk had given both you and Jin because you were too busy stuffing your mouth with the jjangmyeon. 

“I’m so happy we’re going home,” You say in relief, running your hands through his slightly greasy hair that hasn’t been washed in days. 

“Mhm,” Jeongukk hums as he helps your feet into your loafers, “The three of us could cuddle up in bed now.” 

“I can’t wait to eat some take out,” You could feel your mouth already watering at the taste of thai curry. 

“The nurse said nothing too heavy for the next couple of days,” Jeongukk reminds you gently.

“That’s what they say to all of their patients,” You wave it off, “I don’t care I’m tired of eating bland food. Saltine crackers are disgusting, Guk.” 

Jeongukk stands up once he finishes helping you in your shoes. He looks at your scrunched up face and he can’t help but bend down to kiss the tip of your nose. 

“You’ll live,” He tells you and you just roll your eyes because you aren’t going to give it up. 

“What are we going to do about all of these balloons?” You ask Jeongukk, referring to the multiple balloons floating in the corner of the room that each of the boys brought along with some stuffed animals for your daughter, Ji-a. 

Jeongukk lets out a sigh, completely forgetting about them. “I’ll put it in the trunk.”

“We’ve got the wheelchair,” The nurse says brightly, pushing it into the room. 

“Ready for the missus to go home?” She asks you. 

You nod, “Yes, I’m tired of feeling so trapped and isolated.” 

She chuckles in response in her response, “It’s okay, I felt like that too when I was pregnant. Did you guys schedule your appointment for next week?” 

“Yep, already talked to them,” Jeongukk answers as he helps you off from the bed and onto the wheelchair. 

You wince as you sit down, still feeling the soreness in your body that’s going to take some time to heal. Your back was still aching and you felt the fatigue in your eyes. 

“Great! We’re all set then,” She claps. 

You watch as Jeongukk picks up the car seat that holds your sleeping daughter. She was all bundled up in her thick knitted blanket to protect her from the cold winter air along with a cute little beanie on her head. 

“Baby, put the seat on my lap,” You tell him. 

Jeongukk shakes his head, “No, you’re still sore. I’ll carry her,” He replies, shrugging on the hospital bag. 

“I’ll be fine,” You pout but he tries his hardest not to give in because he knows you’re still in pain. When you realize he won’t do it, you huff but understand why he isn’t doing it. 

The nurses pushes your wheel chair out of the room, moving you down the hall with Jeongukk beside you who walks with the car seat in hand. You look into the seat to see your little one’s eyes open, blinking tiredly. 

You let out a gasp of excitement, “Is my baby awake?” You speak in an endearing tone. 

Jeongukk quickly glances down to see his baby girl with her eyes open and he can’t help but grin widely. “Finally.”

“I didn’t want any fans crowding you or the baby so the car is parked in the private garage.” Jeongukk informs you and you nod in relief because you were worried what it would’ve been like if he hadn’t. 

Once you’ve reached the car, Jeongukk quickly unlocks it and opens the back door, gently placing the car seat in. You watch as he secures the belts at least three times, everything in place while he continuously glances at your daughter. With a final kiss to her forehead, he softly closes the door and turns towards you. 

The nurse opens the passenger door and you hold your arms out as Jeongukk carefully picks you up with one arm beneath your knees and the other behind your back. 

“I could’ve stood up,” You mumble, giving him a quick peck on the neck. 

“I just want to make it easy for you,” He strokes your hair back once he helps you click your seatbelt in place after he places you inside. “Ready?” 

“Mhm,” You blink slowly, giving him a tired smile. 

He stares at you with affection, leaning forward to give you another kiss on the lips before pulling back to shut the door. After placing everything else in the trunk, he slides into the seat beside you and starts the car. You both say thank you and goodbye to the nurse who helped you before pulling away. 

Your eyes shut in exhaustion but your body feels much more relaxed as you take in the familiar scent of Jeongukk’s car. You feel his hand grab your own, intertwining your fingers together. You open your eyes again to look at him, noticing the small smile on his lips. 

+

After getting home, Jeongukk had told you to wait in the car while he opened the front door and dropped off Ji-a’s car seat inside before he had quickly ran outside to get you. Despite your protests, he had picked you up again, carrying you into the house with your arms wrapped around his neck. 

Now you’re in your bedroom you share with Jeongukk, lying in the large bed with your eyes shut as you rest. 

Jeongukk didn’t want you to stay awake, noticing how tired and worn out you looked. He knew you were still sore and in pain from giving birth. He was so proud of you and how you handled your birth. You were so strong throughout the whole process and he didn’t think he could love you more than he already did but he was wrong. 

After the birth of your daughter, he felt his heart become bigger and filled with so much more fondness. 

Since both of his girls are sleeping, Jeongukk decides to clean up the living room a bit. He also ordered some thai takeout despite telling you that he wasn’t going to let you eat it for a couple of more days. There wasn’t any groceries to cook with at the moment and he knew you’d be more than happy to eat some curry. 

Jeongukk quickly drops the dish rag he was holding in his hand when he heard a disturbed wail coming from the baby monitor that he sent on the kitchen counter. He creaks up the stairs, cautious not to wake you up from your nap as he walks into the nursery. 

Ji-a’s face is scrunched up in distress, pink and wet from crying. Her tiny hands are curled up into a fist and lips are parted. Jeongukk carefully picks her up, kissing her all over the face in order to calm her down. He gently rocks her in his arms but unfortunately, the crying still wouldn’t stop. 

“Guk?” He hears you call out his name. He lets out a sigh, begrudgingly walking to your bedroom because he wanted you to rest. 

He’s met with the sight of you up and leaning against the headboard. You looked much better than you did earlier, the few hours of sleep allowing you to look much more fresh. 

“Sorry baby, I tried not to wake you,” Jeongukk apologizes but you just shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“It’s okay. She’s just hungry,” You tell him, holding your arms out so he could give you your daughter. 

You smile, leaning down to kiss the wailing baby’s forehead. “Hi, my little angel,” You greet, stroking her face. Jeongukk helps you unbutton the top of his flannel that you’re wearing so it’s easier for you to feed. 

Tugging aside the shirt, your baby wraps her lips around your pink bud, her wails instantly dying down as she contently sucks. The ache in your swollen breasts slowly gets better as your daughter continues you to eat. Jeongukk just sits on the bed beside you, watching the both of you with such love and endearment. 

You give him a smile, urging him to come forward and he does. He presses his lips against your three times, careful with the baby between you both. He looks down at his daughter nuzzled against your chest, suckling in contentment. He leans down to kiss her head as well. 

“She’s so precious,” He says and you nod in agreement. “I love you both so much. Thank you for this. You’re so strong.” 

You smile at his words, “I love you too.” 

And that night, the both you finally sleep in your bed with your daughter in between. This was your family. 

+

im so sorry i haven’t updated wonderwall. school has been kicking my ass but im almost graduating. hope this makes up for it! 

[sleepy-verse]

Name: Oscar, Lucas, Paige, and Marco Bailey

Creator: @vanessafangirl13

Age: 15

Species: Human

Nationality: Mixed Race; Brown/White American (The Bailey Quintuplets are 1/4 Afro-Hispanic with European and Spanish Ancestry)

Gender: 2 Males (Oscar and Marco), 1 Transmale (Lucas), and 1 Female (Paige).

Sexuality: Oscar is straight, Lucas is Bisexual, Paige is a Lesbian, and Marco is demisexual, later gay

Birthday: April 25th (Taurus)

Relatives:

Alexandra [Casoy] Bailey (Biological Mother)

Clay Bailey (Biological Father)

Carmen Casoy (Maternal Grandmother)

Mr. Casoy (Maternal Grandfather)

Mr. "Daddy" Bailey (Paternal Grandfather)

Mrs. Bailey (Paternal Grandmother)

Mrs. Bailey (Paternal Grandmother)

Patrick Bailey (Uncle)

Jessie Bailey (Aunt)

Unnamed Paternal Grandpa (Paternal Great Grandfather)

Unnamed Paternal Grandma (Paternal Great Grandmother)

Weapon(s):

Lucas' Weapons: Earth and the Shen Gong Wu(s), the gaulet, Fist of the Iron Bear and the gaulet, Fist of Tebigong

Oscar, Marco, and Paige's Weapons: Compowder/X-Powder, Expandable Cable Bungee Belt, Spy Suits, Turbo Fueled Jetpack Backpack, and other gadgets selected by Brittany and Sam.

Oscar's weakness: He has insomnia because he work too hard in all of this classes.

Paige's weakness: A broken nail, ruined make-up, and wore out clothes.

Marco's weakness: Shrimp, and coming out.

Lucas' weakness: Garlic, and being called 'Sissy'.

Lucas' weaknesses in his Xiaolin Dragon of Earth (Earth Manipulation)

May not be immune to the effects of the earthquake.

Once an earthquake is initiated, it may be impossible to stop.

May require contact with the ground.

The earthquake generated by the user will affect everyone and everything in their surroundings including themselves.

May be unable to create earth, being limited to manipulating only from already existing sources.

Distance, mass, precision, etc. depend upon the knowledge, skill, and Lucas' strength and her power's natural limits.

May have to be/stay in contact with earth.

Glass and artificial solids may be hard or impossible to control for Lucas.

Earthen materials may be weak against erosion caused by water, ice or air.

Hate secrets. If people are hiding secrets from him, you are losing his trust. <<< This weakness is not part of her power, it is personal.

Appearance:

Oscar had his father skin color, his mother's eye color, and black hair. Lucas had short yellow hair, his mother's eyes, and a mixture of her parents' skin colors. Paige had shoulder length black hair, her father's eyes, and her mother's skin color. And Marco had vitiligo, with a mixture of his parents' eyes, and hair color.

Oscar's outfit: He wore a white buttoned up shirt, gray pants, and some brownish-red loafers.

Lucas' outfit: A green baseball cap, a plain simple blue t-shirt, green overalls, black and white non matching socks, and some Nike's sneakers. His Xiaolin uniform, he wears tight red Texas styled cut uwagi with black lining the outside with it being left over right. A black obi, black gloves, tight white zubon, and high-top boxing shoes to give more ankle support.

Paige's outfit: A pretty, yellow blouse, a green skirt, dark pink leggings, and some white high-heeled boots.

Marco's outfit: A white tank top, a yellow embroidered jacket, dark blue jeans, and some sneakers.

Alignment: Oscar, Marco, and Paige are W.O.O.P.H. agents, Lauren is a member of the Xiaolin Dragons, and both are 10th Graders in Blossom's school of Megalìa

Oscar's personality: A bit of a homophobic, smart, fair, serious, funny, and romantic

Lucas' personality: Sporty, outgoing, strong, open-minded, open-hearted, brave, handsome, a bit messy, and rebellious.

Paige's personality: Flirty, romantic, lovely, pretty, a bit smart, and a party animal She tries not to get her new expensive clothes messed up, but she fails sometimes since she's not afraid to get down and dirty, but hate her clothes and appearance be ruined. 

Marco's personality: Shy, handsome, outgoing, and loving.

Abilites/Powers/Skills:

Combat proficiency (Both kids)

Skilled martial artist (Lucas known only Tai Chi, and her siblings only know kung-fu)

Olympic-level athlete (Both kids)

Acting (Oscar, Paige, and Marco)

Disguise (Oscar, Paige, and Marco)

Investigation (Lucas, Paige, and Marco)

Lassoing (Lucas, Paige, and Marco)

High Food Intolerance (Lauren and Marco)

Peak human conditioning (Both kids)

Earth Manipulation (Only Lucas)

Bio

After Jerry retire as a head of W.O.O.P.H. agency and the agency have shutted down, Alex Casoy graduated from college, earning a Master and become a veterinarian. She was living the good life. One day she accepted the opportunity to visit a farm and ranch in Texas, USA for a check up on the farm animals. The farm and ranch is belong to The Bailey Family. There she met the The Xiaolin Dragon of Earth, Clay. They develop love at a not-so first sight after assisting each other delivering a calf from a pregnant cow.

It turns out that two adults that use martial arts to beat up bad guys and who both share a love of animals and it doesn't hurt that the girl has a cute pet pig that boy gets a long with and both of them are awkward and adorable around each other. They have been going strong from the day they met, it didn't take long for more "sparks" to fly later on. When Clay pops the question Alex said yes as she finally found the man of her dream. They got married and on their wedding day, her best friends, Brittany, Clover, Sam, her sister-in-law, Jessie, and Clay's teammate, Kimiko as the bridesmaids, and Patrick, Omi, and Raimudo as Clay's best men. Once they got married, they already started to think about having children. Sadly, their luck seem to dwindled as years passed by, Alex had no luck getting pregnant. So Clay decided to invested a large sum of money to fiance an in-vitro program to take part in with the helps of his Xiaolin Dragon teammates and Alex's friends. Finally, the program was a success and to Clay and Alex's surprise, Alex is having not one baby, not twins, or triplets, but quintuplets. But hey, Alex did not complains since she love children alot.

The family reside in Farmsville, a town not too far from Townsville, located in Pokey Oaks County. Where the children learnt how to lasso from their dad, develop their soutern charms, hard-working skills, never afraid of getting their hands dirty, and do mud wrestling. The family gained a good reputation as Alex is the best veterinarian in Farmsville and own her very own vet and Clay runs a ranch to expands The Bailey Family's farming and ranching business.

Around 5, Lauren (his deadname) develop his Earth powers, causing him to be separate from his family to joined The Xiaolin, an order of monks settled in a temple found somewhere in the mountains of China where he join a group and be trained at the Xiaolin Temple to become Xiaolin Dragons for the next 10 years. In his years of training as a Xiaolin Dragon, Lauren realized he is trans and his appearance change dramatically, making his appearance from feminine to masculine. He wears a binder, have a female hormone blockage, and taking male hormones. He chose the name Lucas and abandon the name Lauren.

On their 10th birthday, their mother reveals Marco, Oscar, and Paige her past as a W.O.O.P.H. agent, and to reveals more shocking is that Alex asked if they would like to join newly re-open of W.O.O.P.H. agency as undercover super agents ran by their co-leaders, Sam and Brittany because she see them smart and capable of being agents after worsening crime conditions that arise across the globe have return. All of them choose to become W.O.O.P.H. agents because they are siblings and works together as a team.

When they are now 15 years old, Lucas come back to Townsville after her training to take a break and enrolled in Megalìa, a school that Oscar, Paige, and Marco goes there at the age of 13. The quintuplets hope to get back to how things were when they are younger. But their relationship seem distant as Marco, Paige, and Oscar hiding their secret double life as a undercover super agent from her.

Currently, the 4 children of Clay and Alex Bailey are now in 10th Grade. Paige, Oscar, and Marco are trying their best to balance their daytime lives in Townsville, focusing on graduating in Megalìa while saving the world from villains. The Bailey Quintuplets are model student and civilian, earning all As in school, joined extracurricular activities, like joining the theater trope, karate, and gymnastics.

[Spoilers in the ending of the Sleepyverse]

After the Bailey Quintuplets graduated from Megalìa in the planet, Titanus and the war between the heroes and Aku and his children.

Trivia

The kids knew a lot of languages.

Lucas fits in more masculine clothing and less feminine clothing.

The fan kids are inspired by this link.

[secret-rendezvous1d]

Gang harry with a daughter/son!! But he would be selling drugs during the day doing some dodgy stuff but would go home to his big ass house he bought with his illegal stuff and cuddles with his little bub

He comes home stressed.

Fists clenched tightly by his sides, eyebrows furrowed and creased lines on his forehead, feet feeling heavy in his trainers and his face set in, what seemed to be, a permanent scowl. His shoulder bag drops to the floor with a heavy thud and the heavy oak front-door, with the number 14 nailed to the dark wood, in thick and shiny, brand-new brass, comes into contact with the doorframe and echoes around the lower level of the house. 

He reaches up and swipes his black beanie from his head, freeing his hair as the strands of his fringe fall loose and tickled the skin above his eyes, chucking it towards the hallway table where a china bowl, that homed his girlfriend’s keys and a set of car keys belonging to a car they both shared, sat. Fingers pulling at the the sleeves of his hoodie whilst he toed out of his shoes and kicked them across the carpet.

“Are you angry?”

It’s a sentence that was called from the kitchen and he could tell, by the sound of the voice bouncing off the walls, and by the time of the day - 6pm meant it was dinner. 

“No.”

“The slam of the front door tells me otherwise.”

He rolls his eyes and rubs his temples with his fingers, kneading out the pulsing headache that was beginning to form behind his tired, sullen and drooping eyes.

He can hear the scuffle of slippers against the tiled floor that soon disappeared into silent footsteps as she approaches the entryway. A stained t-shirt on her torso and a pair of his gym shorts, matched with a pair of white socks that had been pulled up to her calves, on her lower half. Loafer-style slippers on her feet.

“We have a sleeping baby in the living room, Harold. I managed to get her down before dinner so that we could eat in peace. Please, don’t go waking her up or else I will be the angry one,” she warns him, arms opening as she engulfs him into a warm hug, “I made you your favourite.”

“Bangers n’mash?”

Her eyes widen and she pulls away from him; “that’s your favourite?”

His frown deepens on his face, pinching his features together and  his lips curving downwards and his arms relaxing around her, before she giggles and pinches his bum. His cheeks pinking with a flushed look.

“I’m just kidding,” she snickers and pushes her face against the soft material of his hoodie, “I made you bangers and mash in the onion gravy that you love so much that it grosses me out,” a smile lifts up his lips, his green eyes squinting and his dimple popping on his cheek and he presses a kiss to her forehead, “me and Nora thought you deserved to have a nice, home-cooked meal after your stressful day.”

“How’d yeh know it was stressful?”

“I bumped into Jeffrey when I was at the supermarket getting dinner. He said something about some guy not bringing in the correct supply amount and that you were getting the wrath of it all. Said that someone was threatening you or something,” she sighs and she feels him tense, “I’m sorry you had a bad day, baby.”

“S’fine,” he mumbles. His arms fall loose from around her and they land back at his side, his shoulders slumping as he rounded the corner and disappeared from her eyes, “it was like a typical day, really. This was nothing compared to most days. No punches were thrown this time.”

Despite having been with him from the very beginning, from when he was a simple nobody to when he was the leader of an illegal organisation, it still came as a shock when he spoke off the vicious and the toxicity of what he got up to during his day - something that he kept to himself because work belonged at work, shared amongst his employees and other drug-dealers, and everything else belonged outside of where he spent his days, shared with his girlfriend and his family and the friends who chose to live a stereotypical life. 

She follows him, apprehensively, and keeps herself occupied by fixing up two plates; giving him more because he looked hungry and tired (and because Jeffrey had told her that he might need a little more affection than normal).

He slumps on the sofa and cradles his daughter to his chest. Her cheek pressed against his hoodie, eyes closed and a tiny fist grappling at the black material, soft mewls and squeaks escaping the parting of her lips.

“Daddy loves you, okay? No matter what happens, whether it be right now or in the future, m’always going to love you. Both you and mummy, you’re the most important people in my life and that won’t ever change,” he coos, rubbing her back with the tips of his fingers and deeply inhaling the scent of her shampoo, “I love you and I’m incredibly lucky to have you and mummy in my life. Make my stressful days even better. All my days are made better when you’re there to have a cuddle with, sweetheart.” xx

[cherryyharryy]

Chapter 3: Xiphisternal Joint

 My mom and dad let me stay home

“I’m comin’ over.”

“Harry, I’m fine, it’s just a stomach bug.”

Adeline pulled her phone away to let out a dry cough into the crook of her elbow, clearing her throat and blinking away the few tears that had bubbled up in her eyes.

“I heard that, m’on my way.”

“Harry—”

The call ended before she could get another word in, opting to type out a rushed text—‘stop fussing over me, you’ve got a chem test today!’—but she knew her protest was unwarranted once he had his mind set on something.

The alarm that was set to erupt in an hour was turned off and her phone was tossed to the other side of her bed. The room was still bathed in early morning darkness, sparing the humid yellow glow from her lamp, tempting her to drift back to sleep. And she would, needed it really, but her boyfriend was a worry wart.

Breathing through her nose became a tortuous task anyway, leaving her mouth dry and throat a scratchy sore. Her ears were achy, head heavy, and her chest filled up with a stifling weight each time she attempted to hold back a brutal cough, finally giving in when her lungs were seconds from exploding.

Chills raked her body, coming in waves with a supporting round of sweat coating her skin, and she’d take her temperature, because she’s positive a fever had settled itself within her weak body, but that meant climbing out of bed and going downstairs, which she couldn’t be bothered with at the moment.

The last time she’d spent the day in bed with a runny nose she’d indulged in a Scooby-Doo marathon with her mom’s chicken soup warming her from the inside, and the satisfaction of her friends stuck at school topping off her day. But somehow things just weren’t the same anymore.

“How’re yeh feeling, love?”

Adeline jumped at his voice, settling into the covers with a scowl on her face. “I just talked to you twenty minutes ago.”

He shrugged his jacket off and set a grocery bag down on her desk. “A lot can happen in twenty minutes.”

Harry kneeled down on the floor beside her bed and tucked the blanket over her shoulders, skimming his knuckles over her cheek and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Sorry you feel crummy.”

She hummed in response, cracking her eyes open to get a look at him.

He was beautiful, to a fault, could get anything he wanted with the right smirk or boyish grin, but there was something about Harry in a Rolling Stones tee, baggy gray sweats, and thick navy socks—one hitched up higher than its twin—tucked into knockoff designer loafers that he argued were for style and not shuffling down the driveway to get the mail, that had her heart melting.

She turned on her side and pulled his head to rest on the bed, running her fingers through his unruly bed-head hair. He sighed, relaxing his body against the mattress.

“Harry…”

“Hmmm.”

“Come up here, you’re fallin’ asleep on me,” she whispered. “Been up as long as I have.’

He didn’t waste a second to round her bed, toe off his shoes and slip under the heavy duvet. Adeline turned to face him after switching her lamp off, nuzzling into his side, fisting his t-shirt and shuffling her leg across his thighs.

Despite the official start of spring having passed two weeks ago, the mornings were still chilled, only thawing out in the late afternoons, which made her warm bed all the more pleasing. But there were still spots left untouched by her restless sleep that sparked goosebumps to rise over her arms, and had Harry grumbling as he kicked the legs of his pants down to cover his ankles.

“S’awfully cold in here.” He spoke against her hair, cradling his head against hers and the pillow. “I’m freezin’.”

“You’ll warm up soon.”

“Are you contagious?”

“Don’t know.”

“You better hope you don’t get me sick, Adeline.”

“Told you not to come,” she mumbled.

“Was this your plan? Contract a virus, lure me over here with your needy pleas, then infect me to render me helpless?”

“Yep. You caught me. Spent weeks on this one too.”

“S’not very nice, Addy.”

“I’m terribly sorry.”

A yawn escaped her mouth and she tightened the blanket around her shoulders. Harry’s hand traced her jaw, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear and pressing his lips to her head.

“Get some sleep, darling.”

***

Adeline’s eyes peeled open to a soft glittery light filtering through the window, the smell of warm rain filling the air and the bite of chill no longer eating at her skin. She turned to her right but found the spot Harry had occupied empty, but not yet cold.

He stepped into the room just as a sneeze attack took over her. He jogged to the bed and ran his fingers over her back, handing her the tissues off her nightstand once she caught her breath and slumped into the pillows.

“Yeh don’t look so good.”

“Thanks.”

“Maybe I should take you to the doctor?”

“No, harry, I’ll be fine. Just need to ride this out. I’ll be better tomorrow.” her voice cracked and strained against her sore throat.

“If you’re not I’m tellin’ your mom to take you in.”

“Whatever.”

“Nice to see your attitude hasn’t been affected,” he joked, tugging her shirt back up her shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

She nodded to her desk. “What’s in the bag?”

“It’s my very own first-aid kit,” he boasted, opening up the bag. “If this doesn’t heal you, nothing will.”

The smirk plastered across his face ignited Adeline’s nerves. Harry was a troublemaker, and her vulnerability was prime opportunity for him to take full advantage.

He pawed through the bag, only pausing to throw a wink over his shoulder. Adeline shook her sinus-heavy head and rolled her eyes, snatching another tissue from the box.

“Let’s see, I have Advil, an ice pack, heating pad...cough drops, more tissues…” He piled everything onto her desk, looking back at her with a gleam in his eye that meant nothing good.

“Harry you didn’t need to buy all this, I don’t need it.”

He pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “My treatment has been proven effective, but if you don’t want it…” he started putting everything back into the bag.

“No! I mean I do, I was just saying, you didn’t need to go to all the trouble.

“S’no trouble at all love. Now, what else,” he hummed, “vapor rub, microwave soup, and oh—I also have someone’s favorite candy,” taunted, waving a bag of skittles in the air. “But someone doesn’t believe in my medical expertise, so I guess someone won’t be needing this.”

Adeline threw the covers off her body and shuffled over to Harry, but when she reached for the candy his arm shot up in the air, dangling it above her head with a proper devilish grin gracing his face.

“What d’ya say, Adeline?” He drawled out. 

“Please,” she huffed, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of watching her beg.

“Hmm, sorry, s’not quite I’m looking for. Care to try again?”

Her eyes rolled back. “May I please have the skittles…”

He shook the bag and cocked his head to the side. “Wrong again, my dear.”

She shifted on her feet while playing with the hem of her purple sleep shorts, avoiding the one word she knew would settle this stand down.

“Harry—”

“Not quite…”

“With a heavy sigh she pinched her cheek between her teeth, daring a second of eye contact. “Fine.” She passed her weight between her legs, eyes gazing down at the carpet while her voice came out in a muffled grumble. “Daddy.”

“M’sorry, petal, didn’t quite catch that?”

“Harry!”

“M’running out of pet names, darling...and patience.”

“For the love of—” she stomped her foot and groaned into her hands. “I said, daddy.”

His smile grew as he lowered his hand, setting the candy in her grasp. “Thank you, now s’that so hard?”

“I’ll be getting you back. Soon as I feel better, you’d better watch out.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Adeline rolled her eyes and tore the wrapper open with her teeth, offering Harry a few pieces before filling her mouth.

They settled back in her bed, curtains drawn to block out the sun, pillows that still held their shapes, and extra blankets to mimic the warmth of sunny seasons.

Harry played with her hands, slipping his rings on her fingers and cooing about how each one fell off onto the mattress. Adeline finished off the skittles and tossed the bag on the floor, closing in towards his body with their legs in a tangled knot.

“I’m entering that writing contest at school.” Her voice was shaky, muffled by his warm chest.

He pulled back only for her to follow his movements, keeping her face flush against his body. “Hey, look a’ me.” He tried moving again, this time blocking her with a hand on her shoulder. “Why’re bein’ so shy?”

She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes glued to the faded famous band logo on his shirt.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Was worried you might be mad.”

“Why on earth would I be mad?” He tilted her chin up to face him. “For doing what you love?”

“Because,” she uttered softly, “You haven’t, well I mean, I haven’t shown you anything I’ve written. And it’s not that I don’t trust you! I just—I don’t know—”

“Hey it’s alright, love. You don’t have t’show me anything, don’t owe me anything.”

“It’s just that most of what I write is pretty personal, y’know?”

“Addy,” he warned, “What’d I just say, hm? Don’t owe me any explanation. Your writing is just that—your writing. Which means you do what you want with it.”

She nodded as he pecked her nose, curling right back up next to him.

“Nice of your mom to let you stay home today,” she spoke into his shirt, nuzzling closer to his chest.

“She thinks I’m at home sick in bed.”

Adeline looked up to see the goofy smile on his face, a blush working its way onto his cheeks.

“I have to be home by five, before she gets back from my aunt’s house.”

“You could’ve just told her the truth.”

“Might not of let me skip.”

“True,” she mumbled. “It’ll be nice when we won’t have to worry about things like this, once we’re on our own.”

“Me too, sweet girl.”

***

Adeline bent over the sink and scrubbed away the face mask that had begun to itch, leaning in close to the mirror once she finished to inspect her skin.

“Aw fuck.” Her hand flew up to the bump that was throbbing on her chin, seemingly bigger and angrier after the diy concoction her sister had recommended, her Saturday night pamper night already off to a bad start.

“Addy, you alright?”

She drug a towel over her face and cracked the bathroom door open. “Harry?”

“Hi, petal.”

“What are you doing here?”

He sniffled, clutching a box of tissues to his sweatshirt covered chest with one hand and the other stuffed into the pocket of his pajamas.

“You wanna help deliver my mom’s magazine next weekend?”

She flicked the light off and stepped out into the hall, pulling him towards her room. “Why would I do that?”

He plopped down on her bed, sneezing into his arm half a dozen times. “Because, s’your fault I got in trouble. Only fair you take half the punishment.”

“My fault?”

“Yeah,” he coughed out. “ If you hadn’t gotten sick in the first place, I wouldn’t of skipped school to cater to you, wouldn’t have gotten caught, and wouldn’t have gotten a lecture ‘bout how I need to ‘be more responsible.’”

“How’d she find out?”

A round of sneezing followed by a spell of wheezing left his face flushed and his voice a raspy shrill. “Take a guess.”

[miss-niki-draculesti]

I was tagged by the adorable @otra-v-ine 

BOLD what applies to your character

Body

long legs / short legs / average legs / slender thighs / thick thighs / muscular thighs / skinny arms / soft arms / muscular arms / toned stomach / flat stomach / flabby stomach / soft stomach / six pack / beer belly / lean frame / muscular frame / voluptuous frame / petite frame / lanky frame / short nails / long nails / manicured nails / dirty nails / flat ass / toned ass / perky ass / bubble butt / thick ass / small waist / thick waist / narrow hips / average hips / wide hips / big feet / average feet / small feet / soft feet / slender feet / calloused hands / soft hands / big hands / average hands / small hands / long fingers / short fingers / average fingers / broad shouldered / underweight / average weight / overweight

Height

shorter than 140 cm / 141 cm-150 cm / 151 cm to 160 cm / 161 cm to 170 cm / 171 cm to 180 cm / 181 cm to 190 cm / 191 cm to 2 m / taller than 2 m

Skin

pale / rosy / olive / dark / tanned / blotchy / smooth / acne / dry / greasy / freckled / scarred

Eyes

small / large / average / grey / brown / blue / green / red / gold / violet / hazel / silver / white / doe-eyed / almond / close-set / wide-set / squinty / monolid / heavy eyelids / upturned / downturned / dark circles / crow’s feet

Hair

thin / thick / fine / normal / greasy / dry / soft / shiny / curly / frizzy / wild / unruly / straight / smooth / wavy / floppy / cropped / pixie-cut / short / shoulder length / back length / waist length+ / buzz cut / bald / jaw length / mohawk / grey / platinum blonde / white / golden blonde / dirty blonde / blonde / ombre / light brown / mouse brown / chestnut brown / golden brown / chocolate brown / dark brown / jet black / ginger / auburn  / salt & pepper / dyed red / dyed an unnatural color / thin eyebrows / average eyebrows  / thick eyebrows / massive eyebrows

Tattoos/Piercings

no tattoos / new tattoo / a few here and there / multiple / full sleeves / thigh tattoo / neck tattoo / chest tattoo / back tattoo / no piercings / ear piercings / nose piercing / lip piercing / tongue piercing / eyebrow piercing / navel piercing / cheek piercing / nipple piercings / genital piercings

Cosmetic

eyeliner / light eyeliner / heavy eyeliner / cat eyes / mascara / fake eyelashes / matte lipstick / regular lipstick / lipgloss / red lips / pink lips / dark lips / bronzer / highlighter / eyeshadow / neutral eyeshadow / smoky eyes / colorful eyeshadow / blush / lipliner / light contouring / heavy contouring / powder / matte foundation / shiny foundation / concealer / nail polish / wears regularly / occasionally wears / never wears

Scent

floral / fruity / perfumes / aftershave / cocoa / moisturizer / shampoo / cigarettes/ leather / sweat / food  / incense / marijuana / cologne / whiskey / wine / fried food / blood / fire / metal / ice / dirt / amber

Clothes

jeans / tight pants / over knee socks / tights / leggings / yoga pants / pencil skirt / tight skirt / loose skirt / formfitting dress / cardigans / blouse / button-up shirt / band t-shirt / sweatpants / tank top / wifebeater / cutoff t-shirt / designer / high street / online stores / thrift / lingerie / long skirt / miniskirt / maxidress / sundress / tie / tuxedo / cocktail dress / high-slit dress/skirt / t-shirt / loose clothing / tight clothing / jean shorts / sweater / sweater vest / khaki pants / suit / hoodie / harem pants / basketball shorts / boxers / briefs / thong / commando / hotpants / hipster pants / bra / sports bra / crop top / corset / ballerina skirt / leotard / polka dot / stripes / glitter / silk / lace / leather / velvet / chemise / patterns / florals / neon colors / pastels / black / dark colors / linen / fur / faux fur / mail / plate / uniform

Shoes

sneakers / slip-ons / flats / slippers / sandals / high heels / kitten heels / ankle boots / combat boots / knee-high / platforms / stripper heels / bare feet / loafers / oxfords / gladiator shoes / boots / hooves

(didn’t highlight her waist, it’s basically in between small and thick. it’s average))

tagging: @napalmpsalms @d-d-disgusting @psychoanalyticmystic @selkirk-draculina @weapons-daddy and anyone else who would like to do it~

[enzoseven]

oldie

LyricsYo, shout out to everybody that worked on the album You feel me, son? Yo, shouts out to Ty Dollas Shouts out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Frankie Ocean Shouts out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy AwkBig eared bandit is tossing all his manners In a bag and wrapping them in seran wrap bandages Tossing 'em in baskets with the rest of those sandwiches So when he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an accident Um, flowing like my pad is the maxiest My bitch white and black like she's been mimicking a panda It's the dark skinned nigga, kissing bitches in Canada Then kicking all out like Mr. Lawrence did Pamela Put her in the chamber all against her Wilt Chamberlain I never had a Reason, nigga I was just Ableton Not a fucking Logic contradicting dick head Flyer than an ostrich moshing in a tar pit Semen scented cheetah printed tee In that 'Preme five panel, I'll repeat it for the season Previous items in the present With the normal ass past like I cheated on my team It's me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Golf Wang)To have some type of knowledge that is one perception But knowing you own your opponent is a defeating bonus I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartilage cartridge is boneless Smiles of cowards in lead showers Dead spouses in red blouses Children who fled houses on Mustang horses and went jousting I'm on my Robin Hood shit, robbin' in the hood Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm stealing your rings Coke diamonds and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin' boot And salute like the troop when you shoot you gon' poop It's kill Hodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my stoop And out my Kool aid, JuiceHodgy got the juice, I got the gin Jasper got the Henny, my nigga we get it in Wolf Gang party at the hotel I call a ho, you call a ho, and all the hoes tell You know Left Brain need a freak I need a bitch to go down like a Nitty beat Yup, uh, and her ass fat Don't be surprised if I ask where the hash at Nigga I'm tryin' to smoke, bitch get higher Domo where that Flocka Flame? Talkin' 'bout a lighter Still bang salute me or just shoot me Cause if you don't salute me then my team will do the shooting Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the black jack The king Mike G is in the cut with the black mac Livin' like the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up And if these haters actin' up, throw 'em in the aqueduct Free my nigga Earl, yo, I don't really ask for much But two bad bitches in front of me cunnilingusWhat the fuck is caution? Often I leave you flossin' and cause exes next to coffins Lost in translation, the dreams you chase Got you diving for the plates like you stealin' home base That's great, I'm home alone dreamin' of two on ones With Rihanna and Christina Milian, bring it on And Travis is in the closet organizing and hangin' the tramp Three lettermans that Ace has been making him No strays while we catchin' matinees, huh? I'm gettin' blazed thinking 'bout those days I had the top off the GT3 like toupees One finger in the air, all's fair when crime pays My grand scheme of things is to be attached To the game like bitches to their wedding rings And you don't even need to look cause we gleam obscene In the light, ride slow to my yellow diamond shining Like the Batman logo over Gotham, rock LA to Harlem If you say "get 'em Mike G" then I got 'em One man squadron, nigga I'm a problem From Briggs I got bars and plans to Pimp these Polish bitches into pop stars Humanity kills, we all suffer from insanity still And if I said it then it is or it's gonna be real OF 'til I OD and I probably will, uhIt's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your baby mommy popped With my other snobby bop, do I love her? Prolly not Know your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin' drop Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Macaulay Cock I've been runnin' blocks since a snotty tot Big wheel was a big deal with the water Glock Now I'm all grown, sing songs just to give 'em watts Fire what I talk, but still cooler than the otter pop Op Dom neck shit in your wish list Mad sick shit, mad dick for your bitches On some slick shit, your mistress on my hit list And I'm lifted 'til I'm stiff out of this bitch Odd in your motherfuckin' area Blood clots give me five feet 'fore I bury ya Suicide flow, let the big wave carry ya Tyler got the mask like he held Jim Carey up And fuck your team, ho nigga wassup Wolf Gang so you know we not givin' no fucks You know me dog, I'm a chill in the cut so I can Cut it short, break it down, couple pounds, roll it upGet me a Persian rug where the center looks like GalagaRent a super car for a day Drive around with your friends, smoke a gram of that haze Bro, easy on the ounce, that's a lot for a day But just enough for a week, my nigga what can I say I'm hi and I'm bye, wait I mean I'm straight I'mma give you this wine, the runner just brought the grapes My brother give it some time, Morris, and Day Course you know the vibe's as fly as the rhymes On the song, cut and you could sample the feel Headphone bleed, make this shit sound real Used to work the grill, fatburger and fries Then I made a mil and them psychics was liars Now, how many fuckin' crystal balls can I buy and own Humble old me had to flex for the fogs Down in Muscle Beach pumpin' iron and bone Bumpin' oldies off my cellular phone Yeah, bumpin' oldies off my cellular phoneGoddammit, this rapping is stupid and it's hard Gotta do it over and over and over again but here I goHey it's Jasper, not even a rapper Only on this beat to make my racks grow faster Got a TV show, so I guess I'm an actor Pot head, half baked, lookin' like Chappelle Rollin' up a blunt with that fire from hell Still ignorant, still hit a bitch Wolf Gang, nigga, so I still don't give a shit Catch me in the back with Miley on my lap Bong rips as I feel on that little bitch catHah, nigga came through with a 9 bar real quick Just for the bitches, little bit of money in my pocket Fuck it, Wolf GangYeah, fuck that, look, the contrast is a pair of lips Swallowin' sarapin, settin' fires to sheriffs whips (Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' All-American terrorist Crushin' rapper larynx to feed 'em a fuckin' carrot stick And me? I just spent a year Ferrisin' And lost a little sanity to show you what hysterics is Spit to the lips meet the bottom of a barrel So that sterile piss flow remind these niggas where embarrassed is Narrow, tight line, might impair him since I made it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, wearin' pack of parasites Threw his own youth off the roof after paradise La di da di, back in here to fuck the party up Raidin' fridges, tippin' over vases with a tommy gun Never dollars, poppa make it rain hockey pucks And 60 day chips from fuckin' awesome anonymous Call him bloated 'til he show 'em that the flow deluxe Off the wall loafers, Four Loko, and a cobra clutch Vocals bold and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum And let me hit and beat it with a stick until the hole was numb The culprit of the potent punch Scoldin' hot as dunkin' scrotum in a Folgers cup, or Nevada Drivin' drunk inside a stolen truck, shittin' like his colon bust Belly full of chicken and a fifth of old petroleum Supernova, I'm rollin' over the novices I'm roamin' through the forest and spittin' cold as the porridge is Stay gold 'til the case closed and the story end Post mortem porkin' this rap shit and record it To escort it to the morgue again, lord of lips Bored of this, forklift the tippy top, best under 40 list Stormin' the gate, ensurin' the bass, scorchin' ladies Motherfuckers sore in torso and face Get at me with savages, have a pack of Apache Indian pack of niggas who don't give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence As a matter of fact, your swagger is tacky So see me you can't like Crunchy Black catchin' a taxi Back like lateral passin' With that motherfuckin' gladiator manner of rappin' As an addict I let percocets and xannies relax me Fall back if your paddies is Maxi, pleaseOF, shit that's all I got From my bigger brother Frankie to my little brother Tac From that father figure Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks Shredding down 'Fax, Wolf Gang run the fuckin' block Storefront, knee tat Book cover is the same lettering on lettermans and cotton socks And grip tape, and my shoes Um, I was 15 when I first drew that donut 5 years later, for our label yea we own it I started an empire, I ain't even old enough To drink a fuckin' beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop This is for the niggas in the suburbs And the white kids with nigga friends who say the n-word And the ones that got called weird, fag, bitch, nerd Cause you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Steven Spielberg They say we ain't actin' right Always try to turn our fuckin' color into black and white But they'll never change 'em, never understand 'em Radical's my anthem, turn my fuckin' amps up So instead of critiquing and bitching, being mad as fuck Just admit, not only are we talented, we're rad as fuck Bitches 

I don't own this lyrics I got it from odd future

[haleighmonahanscholarships]

Keller Law Offices Academic Scholarship for Higher Education (2020)

“Can I call you Abel, or would you prefer Mr. Steinman?”

“Everyone calls me Abba.”

The woman smiles. She has perfectly straight, glistening white teeth, the perfect compliment to her bright red lipstick, a shade painstakingly chosen to match her garish red outfit. Her smile is meant to be comforting, but it makes his skin crawl nonetheless. He can feel her judgement, kept at bay behind those perfect teeth.  “Abba. Hebrew. Means father right?”

A piranha, that’s what she reminds him of. The smile, the predatory look in her eyes - the red staining her lips could be blood, if he squinted just right.

“Very on the nose, wouldn’t you say?”

She chuckles. He doesn’t say anything more; he figures the less he says, the better. Let her lead the conversation, speak when spoken to. Answer only the questions she asks.

“Well, Abba. I’m Judy, I’ll be doing your psychological evaluation today. It’s nice to meet you.  I understand you’re looking to gain custody of your children?” “Yes.”

“What are their names?” “You know their names.”

“I do. It’s just procedure, you know how it is. Can you tell me their names?” He only just manages to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. “Mason and Siobhan. But I call Siobhan ‘Shiv.’ They’re six. Twins.”

Judy nods, and writes something down. 

‘What’s wrong with that?’ Abba thinks to himself. 

Judy puts her pen down, and leans back in her cushy white chair. She sighs, looking down at her notes, then looks back up at him, with some approximation of a sympathetic look plastered on her face. “I’m going to cut to the chase here, Abba. We both know why you’re here. I think it’s better if we’re up front with each other.”

“I do too.”

“Your son. He alleges that you molested him.”

Abel takes a deep breath. He doesn’t look at her. 

                                                        ---

Where did he touch you, Mason?

A little boy, with a blonde bowl-haircut sits on a stool, looking all around him, obviously bored. He wears a pale blue shirt with navy blue trim and a truck printed on the front. His grandmother had bought it for him; he loved trucks. His bedspread even had trucks on it; wherever he went, Hot Wheels and plastic John Deer’s followed him. 

That was the first thing Abel had noticed about the video; the baby blue truck. The first time he watched it, he didn’t even process what Mason was saying, he was just struck by the shirt, struck by the little whistle in his speech where his left canine was loose, struck by the Spider-man band-aid on his elbow. He was such a sweet little boy.

It took him two additional viewings to finally understand what he was watching, what he was hearing.

“Where did he touch you, Mason?” Abel’s wife, Alice’s, voice would ask from behind the camera.

And Mason would scratch his head, scrunching up his little nose, and after a little hesitation, he’d point at the crotch of his cargo shorts.

And then Alice would ask, through staticy audio: “Who?” to which Mason would answer simply, as if he were stating the obvious, “Daddy.”

It made him sick to think about.

                                                         ---

“His mother alleges. Mason is six, he can’t allege anything. He’s just a little boy.”

“You’re aware of the video, aren’t you?” “Yes. His mother made him say that.”

“Why would Alice do that?

“Come on. You know why.” Judy shakes her head. “Enlighten me.”

“She’s angry.”

“If my son said that, I’d be angry too.” “Aren’t you supposed to be impartial?”

“You aren’t doing a very good job of enlightening me.” “You’ve got the case file right there.”

Abel shakes his head. These people. “I cheated on her. You know that. I know you know that.”

Judy nods. “I did know that.”

“Didn’t you say we were going to be up front with each other?”

“I want to hear your side of the story, is all. These things aren’t very detailed, you see.” She waves the case file around before tossing it onto the table in between them. Neutral zone.

“She found out about Gus and I. He was my director of photography on my last two films. I was going to tell her, but…” He shakes his head, and looks down at his shoes. Loafers, and inside the loafers, black socks with the white outline of Marlon Brando as Vito Corleone accompanied by the logo of The Godfather. A gift from Gus. Oh, how tacky. Must have grabbed them this morning thinking they were plain black - he was in a hurry. He sighs. “I never got to.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Brilliant cinematographer. Hard to believe he’s only thirty. I met him a few years ago at a festival. I’d seen a film he worked on. I asked him to work on a film I was getting ready to do. He agreed.”

Judy nods, listening. Her eyes say, Go on. “So there was that first film. He and Alice got on well, better than I expected. She always had problems with DP’s and camera crews.” He shakes his head, almost laughing at the notion. “What kind of actress hates camera crews?” A pause. “Gus got along with all my crew. It was like he’d been there the whole time. And...well. One thing led to another.”

“Did Alice know you were gay?”

“No, never. That’s part of why she’s so angry. Bad enough that I cheated on her, bad enough with someone 12 years her junior. Worse still that I didn’t have the decency to do it with a beautiful twenty-something actress.”

“So she files for divorce when she finds out about the affair. Why not leave it at that?” “You’re asking the wrong person, doctor.”

“So you believe Alice is coaching Mason to say these things?”

“Is that really so hard to believe? People already believe gay men to be pedophiles.”

“It’s a lot of work to fabricate something like that.”

“Good thing she’s an actress.” Judy writes something down. What is she writing down?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says. “‘Why would she do something like that? What’s the point?’ Well. To get back at me. That’s it. Is that really so inconceivable?” “Well, we’re interviewing her, Mason, and Siobhan as well. We’re being very thorough. I’m sure the truth will come out in time.” “I’m telling you the truth.” “Of course.”

He scoffs. He can’t help it this time. “You fucking people! Don’t you understand what’s at stake here? She’s trying to take my children from me. My children. She doesn’t care about them. She loves Mason because he can show him off, sure, but Shiv? Alice locks herself in her room all day with Mason. I’m all Shiv’s got. Do you know why Alice didn’t use her on me, even though it would have been an easier sell? Because of Gus. Why would I hurt my girl? It would have to be my boy. Even though she never lets him out of her sight.” He pauses. He has to get a hold of himself. He can’t look hysterical. Hysterical looks bad. Hysterical says, guilty. “I could be facing 10 years in prison if she presses charges. But I don’t even care about that. She’s trying to take my fucking children. And God-” Shit, he’s going to lose composure. Don’t lose composure. Don’t lose composure. Shit. “- if she makes Mason believe this shit...she’ll have done it.”

Judy hands him a tissue box. He takes it, but he swears to himself he won’t use any. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Sorries are worthless, Judy.”

They sit in silence for a moment. It feels like a century; there are so many things Abel wants to say - how much he loves Mason and Siobhan, how the day they were born (October 31st - Halloween) was now his favorite day of the year, how he’d never wanted children in his life, but since he’d laid eyes on them they’d been his favorite people, more than his sisters, more than his parents, more than Alice, even more than Gus. But none of it would do any good. If this woman, or anyone, didn’t want to believe him, they wouldn’t. It was that arbitrary. Truth was that arbitrary. Mere whim.

Abel looked at her pleadingly. “I would never hurt a child.”

For further reading on the subject:

https://kellerlawoffices.com/facing-wrongful-convictions/

https://kellerlawoffices.com/false-allegations-often-fueled-desire-sympathy/

https://kellerlawoffices.com/false-sex-crime-allegations/

https://www.virginiacriminallawfirm.com/practice-areas/sex-crimes/sex-crimes-against-children

https://www.greenspunlaw.com/library/classification-of-felonies-and-sentences-in-virginia.cfm#:~:text=Class%204%20Felonies,fine%20of%20up%20to%20%24100%2C000.

[alliwannadoiscomerunning]

It’s Just a Thing (Child!Klaine Bereavement Sequel)

Hey! It’s @alliwannadoiscomerunning here. I decided to continue my @blangstpromptoftheday #1047 fill, which is “Blaine meets Kurt for the first time when he’s seven and Kurt is eight and they’re both at a support group for children suffering a bereavement”. Read Part 1 here. 

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

     Blaine sits, slightly red-eyed, but calm, in the backseat on the way back from Lima. Pam doesn't ask him anything as she pulls into a different parking lot, different, but all the same when referring to the casual strip mall in Ohio. His dark hair carefully curls in the summer wind as Pam takes his hand and leads him out of the GMC Denali, which involved gripping both of his shoulders to lift him out of the giant SUV.  

     Pam can't tell herself why she and Josh had bought the car in the first place. They had two children, and a medium sized dog named Leo, which her eldest had named at age ten. After seven years, the dog still came everywhere with them, but was conspicuously absent today. Pam seldom wondered if Leo was depressed, too. Perhaps the extra large SUV came when Josh and her decided to raise their first child in the suburbs, where the mid-eighties were at its height and the thought of a big brick house in the Midwestern suburbs was actually appealing. Pam was sick of it. She longed for travel.

     She stared at her youngest son out of the corner of her eyes. Her remaining son. He's small and handsome, his retrossè profile framing something much more boring than his appearance. Josh and Pam had been overjoyed when their mistake turned into such a pretty baby.  

     But at the same time, Pam looked at him with pangs of pain that crippled her aging heart. Maybe, if this son hadn't been born, they'd still have the other one. Part of her, the darker side, sings at the idea. When Cooper had been a child, he would dance in front of his mother for hours and hours, pulling the most wonderful facial expressions, and making Pam believe that her son was going to go somewhere. Make it big in Hollywood, or Broadway. He was always bouncing around, much less patient than Blaine, who as a kid would sit in silence with his toys on the floor (Cooper’s?), and read books. The idea that ghosted the forefront of Pam’s mind was almost too good to be true.

     What was she saying?

     Pam settled down as a slightly cheered up Blaine licked his ice cream cone slowly, yet he paid much attention, as if it would disappear if he didn't savor the moment while it lasted. Maybe, Pam thought, that she should start savoring the memories, too.

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

      Burt gripped the steering wheel carefully, listening to his son gush on and on in the backseat of the old Saab. The muffler would probably need to be replaced, soon, he realized, because he could barely hear Kurt’s lilted voice.

     Kurt asks in the tense Mellencamp-driven atmosphere, “Why’s bologna called bologna, Daddy? Shouldn’t it be bologna- that’s how it’s spelt.”

     This is good. A normal conversation.

     “I don’t know, son,” said Burt- why out of all normal conversations, his son had to pick the most obscure one there is..- “I guess it’s the Americanized-version of how the Italians say it.”

     “And how do the Italians say it?”

     The questions never end, and sometimes, Burt wonders if he has to answer them all.

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

     The next Tuesday, at 4:00, both families arrived in the strip mall parking lot at relatively similar times. That day, however, it was just Pam bringing her son around to Ms. Pillsbury’s Boys’ Bereavement Group. After ice cream the previous week, Blaine was more interested in what would happen after the meeting than during or before.

     And as for Kurt, he was just trying not to think all that hard about it. His father wanted him to come, and so there he was.

    The boys found each others’ eyes from across the lobby. Kurt and Blaine never saw each other at school, and Kurt wondered why that was.

     “You said you go to my school,” accused Kurt as he came closer to the other boy, whose mother bade him no attention, “I didn’t see you anywhere.”

     This time, Blaine wasn’t in uniform, which last week, consisted of a dark, smart blue blazer with red piping, a red and blue tie, and a white button undershirt. There was a stitched ‘D’ on the front pocket in elaborate, neat font, and gray trousers with brown loafers. Kurt wore this that day, but Blaine himself was dressed neatly in a sweater vest and dark pants, with no socks, but shoes similar to the Dalton Primary uniform.

     “I haven’t started yet,” said Blaine, “Mommy says I’m not starting until next week.” He looked around aimlessly for Pam, who was off chatting with the weird blonde secretary, Sue.

     “Oh,” Kurt relented, “You just wanted to wear the clothes.”

     Blaine smiled, “Guilty as charged.”

     The two boys’ conversation slacked off into silence until Kurt blurted, “You know a lot of big words.”

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

     In group about fifteen minutes later, Blaine started off by saying, “One of my favourite memories of Cooper was when he bought a dictionary once to just throw it at the wall. He just threw it. At the wall.” There were some giggles from the boys, particularly Kurt, who willingly sat next to him as soon as they walked in.

     “Did he dislike reading, Blaine?” Miss Pillsbury’s dynamic today was easy and nonjudgmental. Blaine knew her tone was gentle.

     “Uh huh. He never read to me, because he wanted me to learn by myself. I like that he did, because…because, now I know how to read.”

     “My daddy taught me how to read,” Nick piped up, “Can we read a book instead of drawing today, Miss Pillsbury?”

     “Yeah, I don’t like drawing!” complained seven year old Jeff. “It makes me feel like a girl.”

     Kurt gave a huff of annoyance, “Well, maybe if you were better at it, you’d like it more!”

     Once again, the group began to feel like it was falling apart. Miss Pillsbury found this incredibly frustrating, and gripped her clipboard with a tighter hold than she felt like she had on this group of little boys. Little boys!

     “OK,” said Miss Pillsbury, avoiding what very well could have been World War III, “OK. Let’s talk about reading some more. I don’t think we’ll have time for an activity today, so Jeff doesn’t have to worry.”

     What was meant to be a joke turned into anxiety when Jeff high-fived Nick. Did they really not like her activities?

     “Um,” Emma fumbled, “Do you have anything to add, Sebastian?”

     When perhaps the most distraught boy in the room lifted his head, Emma knew that she was in hot water. Sebastian was notoriously mentioned in Emma’s notes for his temper and his story, which was a tragic one. Not that every other boy had a right to be there, but Emma just knew that she may have gone one step too far. Asking Sebastian to speak up in group was probably a mistake.

     Nick, Jeff, and Blaine exchanged a few glances with each other. Kurt was confused, because it was only his third meeting, and well, who was this Sebastian kid, anyway? He couldn’t have been more than eight, but no younger than Blaine or Nick or Jeff. His green eyes were dull, and because they were so (well, not attentive) they weren’t anything special. His hair was well-taken care of, so there was that. Kurt found nice dark brown pigments between Sebastian’s chocolate and sandy blonde roots. Not too blonde, though.

��    “I’m Barry,” Sebastian finally spoke, “Not Sebastian. Sebastian. Is. Dead. Dead. It was Sebastian that died. I’m Barry.” -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Christopher Smythe was a worn out man.

     What stared at him now, but the face of defeat? What gazed down on him, except God, who was probably too drunk, like him, to care at all that he made another mistake. That mistake, Christopher decided, was too horrid to be the truth, and started theorizing that God took away one of his twins because only one of them was supposed to be born. And then, he supposed God screwed up once more, because he left the more insolent, tantrum-throwing, and behavioral child on Earth, and took away the kinder one.

     Barry had been perfect. Little Bartholomew and Sebastian (marrying one of the richest women in Paris had its drawbacks, including naming his children ridiculous names that belonged in a Charlie Chaplin film) had been born identical, and came in a package deal. You take what you give, including the fact that Barry was the sweetest, kindest child Christopher ever had the pleasure of meeting. And the fact that his more reserved brother, Sebastian, quickly acted out in response to his co-twin’s death only made things more complicated for him.

     Christopher Smythe was tired. He was tired of the judgmental looks, tired of the glares he received from liberals who knew his story. Like there weren’t hundreds of them every day- hundreds who shouldn’t be dead because of the very thing that protected him from whatever’s out there. Barry shouldn’t be dead, and Christopher blamed God. Sure, he felt the scorn of a hundred children, a hundred parents, but you take what you give.

     Christopher stood inside Dalton Primary School, the principal standing in front of him. He didn’t know if Mr. Schuester knew who he was, yet, or if he cared. If he would judge his son for what happened to their family.

     Mr. Schuester waited for Christopher to talk again, like he had been for awhile. But Christopher found his mouth dry. He cannot, because Sebastian, his son, is speaking.

     “I’m not Sebastian.”

     Mr. Schuester smiled; he must think this is a joke. A game. A child hiding behind the sofa, holding up a puppet.

    “You’re Sebastian Smythe! We’ve seen your photos! You are going to love this school, we teach—”

    “I’m NOT Sebastian, I’m Barry.”

     “Uh—”

     “Bastian’ is dead. I’m Barry.”

     “Bastian?…?” The man trails off, and looks to Christopher, understandably confused. Christopher’s son then repeated himself. Loudly. “Barry. I am Barry. Barry!”

     The hallway of the school is silent apart from Sebastian, shouting these lunatic words. William Schuester’s smile has faded very quickly. He glanced at Christopher, who was the picture of a haggard father, with a panicked frown. There were lots of happy children’s drawings drawn over poetry printed on paper tacked to the wall. The school principal tried just one more time.

     “Ah...um...Sebas—”

     Christopher’s son snapped at Will Schuester as if she were stupid. “Barry! You have to call me Barry! Barry! Barry! Barry! Barry! Barry! Barry! Barry! BARRY!”

     The man stood his ground, but Sebastian grew quite out of control. He was giving them a full-on toddler’s supermarket tantrum- except that they were in a school, and he is seven, and he is claiming that he is his dead brother.

     “Dead, ‘Bastian’s dead. I’M BARRY! I am Barry! He is here! Barry!”

     What do I do? Christopher thought, and he tried to make normal conversation, absurdly, “Um, it’s just a thing, a thing – I’ll be back to pick him up at-”

     But Christopher’s efforts are lost as Sebastian screamed again, “BARRY, BARRY, BARRY, BARRY, BARRY, BARRY, Sebastian is DEAD and I HATE him I’m Barry!”

     “Please,” Christopher said. To Sebastian. Abandoning his pretence. “Please, son, please?”

     “SEBASTIAN IS DEAD. Sebastian is dead, they killed him, they killed him. I am BAR-THOOOOO-LOOOOO-MEEEWWWW!”

     And then as quickly as it started, it blew itself out. Sebastian shook his head, stomped over to the far wall, and sat down in a little chair, under a photo of school kids working in a garden, with a cheery message written in felt-tip pen. He who plants a tree plants hope.

     Sebastian sniffed, then said, very quietly, “Please call me Barry. Why can’t you call me Barry, daddy, that’s who I am? Please?” His teary green eyes lifted. “I’m not going to school, ‘less you call me Barry, please. Daddy?’

     Christopher felt paralyzed. His pleading sounded painfully sincere. He truly felt like he had no choice. The silence prolonged into agony. Because now, I’ve got to explain everything to this Schuester guy at the worst possible moment; and to do that I need Sebastian out of here. I need him in this school, he thought.

     “OK, OK. Mmm-” Christopher said, unable to think properly. “Mr. Schuester. This is Barry. Barry Smythe.” Christopher became frightened, and started to mumble. “I’m actually enrolling Bartholomew Christopher Smythe.”

     There was a long pause. William Schuester looked at Christopher, with intense confusion.

     “Pardon me? Barry? But …” The teacher became a bright red, flustered. Then, he reached to a desk, behind a open, sliding window, and took out a sheet of paper. His next words were more of a whisper. “But it says here, quite clearly, that you are enrolling Sebastian Smythe? That was on the application. Sebastian. Definitely. Sebastian Smythe?”

     Christopher breathed in deeply. He started to speak, but Sebastian got there first, as if he overheard.

     “I’m Barry,” said Sebastian. “Sebastian is dead, then he was alive, but then he is dead again. I am Barry.”

     William Schuester, once more, says nothing. Christopher started to feel too dizzy to respond, teetering on the edge of dark absurdity. But with an effort, he spoke, “Can we let Bartholomew join his new class and I can explain?”

     There was another desperate silence, Christopher’s face pleading for the other man to understand. Then, he heard children singing a song down a corridor, raucous and happy.

     “Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to FLY-”

     The incongruity made Sebastian’s father nauseous.

     William Schuester shook his head, then edging closer to Christopher as he said, “Yes ... That seems sensible.”

     The school principal turned to a good-looking young woman, in a pencil skirt, pressing through the glass doors from the cold outside. “Ms. Corcoran, Shelby, please–do you mind– can you take, ahh, Barry Smythe to his new class, Year Two, end of the corridor. Madelyn Stewart.”

     “FLY, blackbird, FLY- ”

     Shelby nodded an amiable Yes and squatted down, next to Sebastian, like an overkeen waitress taking an order, “Hey, Barry. D’you want to come with me?”

     “Into the light of the dark black night…blackbird singing in the dead of night…”

     “I’m Barry.’ Sebastian was fiercely folding his arms. Scowling. Bottom lip jutting. As stubborn a face as he can manage, “You must call me Barry.”

     “Sure. Of course. Barry! You’ll like it, they’re doing music this morning.”

     “FLY, blackbird, FLY…”

     At last, it worked. Slowly, he unfolded his arms and he takes her hand- and he followed Shelby toward another glass door. He looks so small, and the door looks so huge and daunting, devouring…Christopher couldn’t help but wish his wife wasn’t in Paris right now, coping by herself. The twins had been in his custody when Barry had died.

     For one moment Sebastian paused, and turned to give Christopher a sad, frightened smile- and then Shelby escorted him into the corridor- he became swallowed up by the school. Christopher must leave him to his lonely fate; so he turned to William Schuester.

     “I have to explain.”

     Schuester nodded, sombrely. “Yes please. In my office. We can be alone there.”

     Fifty minutes later, and Christopher has given William Schuester the basic, yet appalling details of their story. The accident, the death, the confusion of identity, all over fourteen months. He looked suitably and honestly horrified, and also sympathetic, but Christopher could also detect a hint of sly delight in his eyes, as he listened to the narrative. Christopher was certainly livening up another dull school day. This is something he can tell his wife and his work friends today- you won’t believe who came in today, a father whose son doesn’t know his own identity…

     “That’s a remarkable story,” said Schuester. “I’m so so sorry.”

     He took his glasses off and puts them on again. “It is amazing that there is, ah, no way...of really…”

     “Knowing? Proving?”

     “Well, yes.”

     “All I know is that – I mean, I think – If he wants to be Barry for now maybe we have to go with it. For now. Do you mind?”

     “Well no, of course. If that’s what you prefer. And that’s fine in terms of enrollment. They are…”

     Schuester searched for the words. “Well, they were the same age, so – yes – I’ll just have Shelby update the records, but don’t worry about that.”

     Christopher got up to leave, eventually, quite desperate to escape.

     “So sorry, Mr. Smythe. But I’m sure everything will be all right now, Sebastian – I mean – your son. Barry. He will love it here. Really.”

     Christopher simply fled.

[converseoutlet]

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