#the fact that their mini is ending in one issue is breaking my heart actually....

[themyscirah]

Obsessed with the idea of Xanthe accidentally folding something/summoning something with their joss paper and then it's just like welp. I guess I have a dog now

[yeojaa]

come over, pt. i

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  this is pwp.  smut in the forms of:  kissing, oral (m/f), fingering, deepthroating, hickeys, protected sex.  use of the pet name shy girl.  wc. 6.2k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif and @snackhobi aka the loves of my tiny life.  author note.  this is an adaption of an rp with my beloved @velvetwicebang​.  while the writing is all my own, i owe so much to loma for inspiring me and being such a wonderful partner. 💛 if you enjoy this, feedback goes a long way.  tysm for reading!  (and yes, there will be a second part.)

You’ve been friends for thirteen months, classmates for another three before that.  You’ve worked on countless projects together, watched him fall off a roof, and have had to bail him out of campus security’s grubby little hands. Your friendship is easy, based on mutual suffering in Professor Kim’s class and long study dates spent in the library.  He smuggled you chocolates in his pockets and you brought iced coffee to the 8 a.m. lecture you shared.

You’re not sure why you’re riddled with uncertainty now then, every nerve ending shot, lit up bright like the still-up mini Christmas tree sitting in the corner of your dorm room.  (You know you should take it down but it’s so cute, slouched ever with a tiny gold star-shaped bell hanging from the end.).  

Spending time with Jungkook was normal - a part of your weekly routine - but then again, you hadn’t somehow developed a weird little crush on him until recently.  

(If you think hard, you could probably pinpoint it to a night a few weeks ago when he looked particularly good, fluffy powder puff of hair stripped of shadow and gleaming gold beneath the warm lecture lights.  You’d never had a thing for blonds but he made it look good - surprising you when he’d dropped into his seat beside you and winked in response to your surprise.) 

(It’s something you can't tear your thoughts from now, that infuriatingly charming smile burnt into your retinas.  It sits at the forefront of your mind, stealing your attention from the movie that's playing on the television hung across from your bed.  One of those blockbuster flicks, because who didn’t love gratuitous action and lens flares?)

A hand reaches for the chip bowl propped between you - homemade chex mix, because you’ve been obsessed with the recipe since discovering it a few weeks ago - and you flinch away when it brushes the hand that's already in there.

"Sorry!"  You squeak before coughing, a quick-witted (but not altogether believable) attempt at hiding the sudden heat that flares across your cheeks.  The same hand disappears between your knees, fingers curling into the soft throw laid over your legs.  You tell yourself to relax at least three times before speaking, peeking at your companion from beneath a fringe of sleep-tousled strands.  “Stop stealing all my chips.” 

The boy beside you only grins, tosses that lazy smile in your direction before turning his attention back to the explosion on the screen, entire expression lit up by the fireworks that explode in flashes of colour.

You think you’ve gotten away with it - that he hasn’t noticed - and then he’s speaking again, pointedly staring forward, seemingly unbothered.  (You know better though.  Jungkook’s infuriating like that, picking up on all the little things despite the fact that he’s a dumb boy, too good at reading between the lines when he barely studies.)

“You’re blushing.”

The callout is, well, uncalled for. 

You choose to ignore him at first, opting to shove two chocolates past your lips.  They’re unbearably sweet, minty and cold - your favourite - and the richness spills across your tongue, eliciting a soft hum as your teeth buzz from the sugar.  (Note to self:  thank Jungkook for the chocolate later.)

“You’re blushing,”  you retort once you’ve swallowed, cheeks puffed out and a dent gathering between your brows.  “I’m just—“  Hand waves wildly - nearly hits him in the face with how wobbly it is - and you pretend-glare at him, faux affront laid in spades.  “—hot.”

It comes snappier than you mean it to, spoken in something close to a pout.  You aren’t actually.  The campus is notorious for having garbage heating, floorboards more akin to packed snow in the dead of winter.  It’s just annoying.  You refuse to be another one of those girls.

(Not that there’s anything wrong with said girls.  It’s more an issue with Jungkook, stupidly handsome and charming and far too popular for his own good.  People already told you all about Jungkook’s escapades - even though you often heard them from him firsthand and in gruelling detail.  One of the downsides to being friends with someone who, for all intents and purposes, carried the title of campus heartthrob.) 

“Pay attention to the movie.”  The same hand reaches for the mix again, careful to avoid brushing his this time.  You think you’ve succeeded, snatching up a piece of pretzel, morsel halfway to your mouth when it drops to your lap.

The same lap that suddenly has a hand on it, palm warm over your knee.  

If you’d thought your nerve endings were shot, now you knew they were.  Every inch of skin was on fire - heat shooting up your spine and over your neck the moment his hand comes in contact with bare skin.  Damn your need for comfort, damn your choice to wear shorts, damn his freaking hot tattooed hands—

You almost yell at him.  The sound’s on the tip of your tongue when you bite down, stare trained wholly on the movie and the blood that splatters across the screen..

Really, you shouldn't be surprised.  You’ve known Jungkook for nearly two years - okay, not quite.  You’ve heard all the rumours about him, the whispered words that sound something like playboy and flirt and be careful.  You know and yet you’ve found yourself in this situation, desperately trying to figure out what the hell is going through his mind as you stare straight ahead, refusing to move a muscle.  

His profile is picture perfect from your periphery;  he's focused too, acting like he's done nothing wrong.  Sly as a fox, as always.

“Still blushing,”  he repeats conversationally, as if he’s commenting on the colour of the sky or how cold it is in your room.  Not as if he’s got a hand where it shouldn’t be, ink spilling over his skin in pretty patterns, burning the shape of it where he touches.

"I didn't blush.”  It’s a retort made for only argument’s sake and even then, without weight.  Feather soft and feeble in an attempt to keep your voice level.  It's hard when you’re burning up, a livewire settled where you feel him.  "I'm not blushing."

It's a lie - you can feel the flush, embarrassment flooding from your cheeks all the way down over your chest.  It’s an inferno beneath your skin, lava coursing through your veins.  

It spreads further and further, blooms somewhere new when his hand drifts lower, tracking across the soft inner of your thigh.  Doesn’t cease even when his hand does, palm firm over your leg, the ghost of a touch passing so close to your core you can’t help but jolt.  It’s as if he’s rearranged your pieces, mixed them all up.  A brush of his finger over your clothed entrance feels like it hits you right in the chest, snaps your heart to attention.  It roars to life, thundering madly, pulse erratic when he repeats the gesture, with that much more pressure.

You’re dripping, you realise to your horror, cotton of your thong sticking to your skin, grey of your shorts made darker by the arousal that spills over the one not-so-innocent digit. 

A part of you wants to run from the room.  Nearly do, heart hammering in your chest when Jungkook's face is suddenly too close, the warmth of his breath stifling against your neck.  It feels good, anticipation and desire fizzing in your stomach like fountain pop.  (The movie theatre kind, that’s somehow flat and too bubbly all at once.)

"Kook."  You mean to say it reproachfully, with a hand pushing his wrist away.  Instead it comes out like a whisper, a soft sigh of his name that sounds almost needy, laced with worry and anticipation that makes you want to tear your own hair out.  Fingers remain locked around bone, other hand digging into the blanket and the linen beneath it, searching desperately for some form of composure beneath the material.  

For the first time, you hazard a glance - know it’ll be bad for your own well-being - dropping your stare to where his hand rests.  (You have to admit - you like the sight of those tattoos, a stark contrast to the unblemished softness.)

Like it almost as much as his kisses, the first of which lands exactly where you want it most.  Delicate, polite, right on the junction of your jaw.  A sigh escapes before you can help it.  "Shy girl,”  he coos, teasing in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“I’m not shy,”  you huff - try to, anyway, around the kaleidoscope of butterflies that are threatening to choke you.  "We're watching a movie."  You’re trying to redirect his attention, even as you’re desperate for it, even as you think you’d give your whole heart for it. 

You’re this close to combusting, eyes widening the moment he extracts his hand and tucks it back into the bowl of chips.  A part of you wants to yell at him - for starting this in the first place but mainly for leaving you high and dry, turned on and soaking through your underwear. 

(It’s not fair, but then again, you’d never expected them to be.  You’ve seen the rules Jungkook plays by - namely those of his own creation.  Term paper due the next morning?  He’d somehow pull it out of his ass that night.  Break something at a house party?  He’d be let off with a smile and a wave, those doe eyes of his utterly lethal when paired with his pout.)

“Watch the movie then.”  He sounds almost bored, utterly unbothered as he seamlessly slips back into the proper role of friend, classmate, study partner.

"Let's."  Without tossing another glance in his direction, you stare straight ahead, own hand delving for snacks.  So what if you very purposely brush your fingers against the pieces he's just touched, popping the pieces into your mouth before slotting your thumb against your tongue, cheeks hollowing around to suck the last bits of salt and butter off.

Despite your nerves - you’re hoping he's watching - you readjust, bringing knees up, crossing legs until one is resting atop his own thick thigh.  The full of your bottom lip disappears between your teeth, worried to within an inch of its life as you shift beside him, seemingly manoeuvring your shorts into their rightful position.

(You’re not.  They’re hitched higher than they were, barely worthy of the title of shorts, more akin to a belt.  So revealing it’s almost uncomfortable, wet of your arousal sticking them to your skin.)

(Two could play this game.)

(Maybe him better than you, but still.)

You know what you’re doing and yet you’re somehow surprised when he’s suddenly disappeared from your side and situated himself in front of you, eating up too much of the space on your small double bed.  “What’re you—“  The question disappears in the same moment he does, unable to track his movements when Jungkook slips forward, pressing his mouth over yours.

You’ve kissed a lot of people.  (Okay, not a lot, but enough.)  You were a senior in college, where kissing was like talking and fucking happened more often than dating.

You’ve never kissed Jungkook before.  

Why hadn’t you?

His lips are terribly soft, pink and pouted, slanting across yours as if he’s trying to devour you.  There’s no semblance of delicacy, nothing gentle and sweet like those brushes against your neck.  They’re forceful, demanding payment in full when his tongue glides over the seam, seeking entrance despite the fact that you think he might’ve slipped in anyway.

There’s not a single wall he couldn’t break down, not a lock he couldn’t pick.  Not with how he moves, purposeful and reassured, tongue sliding over yours, sucking it into his mouth as if it’s something he does every day.  (Which it very well could be - just not with you.)

“Shy girl,”  he repeats with a mouth filled with affection, praise that pours over you honey sweet and sticky.  “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The thing is, you’re not pretending.  You’re half-afraid this entire moment is going to explode into a thousand pieces, a dream shattered by reality.  You hope it doesn’t.  Couldn’t bear it when he feels so nice, hand spanning your waist, tucked beneath the safety of your shirt and the fleece blanket between you.  

“I’m not.”  

“Oh?”  There’s something in his eyes, something that coils heat in the pit of your stomach.  You swear you can see the devil sitting on his shoulder, gleeful little smile rearranging his features.  “Do I make you nervous, ____?”

Did he?  Of course he did.  Had, even before you’d known him.

(You’d grown comfortable, though.  Found a way to separate the popular heartthrob from your friend.)

But you’ve lost your marbles, gone certifiably insane when you make a noise that sounds nothing like you.  Because you’re once again far too interested in the way Jungkook’s touching you, manhandling you as if you’re some sort of puppet.  It really shouldn’t turn you on so much, slick coating your bare thighs when he guides you onto your back, pushes you back against your too many pillows.

He’s your friend and he’s told you all about the way he fucks girls until they can’t walk.  

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want the same treatment, though. 

The moment Jungkook’s mouth finds your skin - sensitive and soft and so close to your soaked core - you keen, hands immediately flying into his silky head of hair.  It threads between your fingers like fine silk, filaments of gold overlaid in colour by the movie that still plays.  

“Oh my god,”  you gasp, entire body arching off the back of the bed in an effort to bring some form of  relief.  You can’t help the heat that burns your cheeks or how you sound, begging and pleading as you tug gently at his blond roots.  “Don’t tease me.”

You’re not asking very nicely but you figure Jungkook will give in.  It’s his fault, after all.  

His fault - which you don’t mind when he hooks fabric aside and drags his tongue across your slit, the flat of his tongue arching your back from the bed.  Can’t mind when he does it again, rounded nose bumping against your clit.  You’re trying to stay just a little bit decent, moans soft and caught between your teeth.  You’re practically biting a hole through your lip in an effort to stay quiet, hands curled into fists.  Gold spills between them and you imagine it hurts but he doesn’t stop, only works harder to drive you crazy.

Of course he’s good at this.  Too good, if you’re being honest.

You’re dripping, legs trembling in his firm, unyielding grip.  There's molten heat building in your stomach, creeping up your spine, and with each pass of his tongue over your sensitive core, it only expands.  You want more - need it - and almost beg when he catches your clit between his teeth.  A breathy baby spills out on accident when your eyes meet, gaze half-lidded.

It’s bad for your health, how good he looks right now, chin slick, lips rubied and pretty like jewels.  “Shy girl sounds so pretty.”

There's something about his praise that completely ruins you, the words dragging a delighted, sexpot moan off your tongue.  You want him to tell you how pretty you are now and later, over and over.  

You want to be his pretty girl. 

"I want you.  I need more,"  you whine, hips rutting desperately, slick messy across your thighs and shining across Jungkook's mouth.  He smiles then - brighter than the sun, utterly radiant, so devastatingly handsome you swear your brain short circuits - and then he’s doing exactly as you’ve asked. 

He eats you out like it’s an art form, flicking his tongue over your clit with practiced precision, sucking the pearl between his lips.  When he grazes his teeth over it - just the lightest pressure - you jolt, the feeling of a finger sliding into you stealing the breath from your lungs.

He’s always had nice hands, big broad palms and long fingers.  They reach places you could never hope to, stretching you deliciously when he sinks another in alongside the first, exploring you with ease.  The sting is slight, the fullness overriding any pain, further dulled by the suction of his mouth on your clit.  

He even hums when he finds the spot he’s been looking for, hooking his fingers against it and pressing.  (You swear you see stars;  you know you feel him smile, lips spread like butter over your skin when you sob.)

You can’t help yourself, writhing and moaning, trying to ride his face with a desperation that has your chest heaving.  It feels so good to have him between your legs.  You almost miss the appearance of his other hand - in view for but a moment before it disappears past the waistband of his sweats.  Dark as they are, pitch black like most of his clothing, it’s impossible to miss the way he touches himself.  It has you even needier, pussy clenching at the thought of him fisting his own hard cock.

“Do you want a hand?”  You ask as if you’re doing him a favour and not salivating at the prospect, eyes wide, blinking down at him from behind thick lashes.  

“Fuck.”  He’s sin incarnate, undeniable when he sheds his sweats, kicks them off with just one hand, other still slotted snug against your pussy.  He never ceases his movements, fucking you on his fingers even as he sits upright, leaned back on his calves.  “You want a taste?  Shy girl wants a big fat cock in her mouth?”  

There's something about hearing him so turned on, the expletive shooting a dizzying bolt of desire straight between yours legs.  You’ve seen Jungkook worked up - he was awfully competitive, after all, dominating most intramural sports, breaking PR records in the gym - but it's something else completely when he's making you drip cum all over his hand.

"Wow.”

Jungkook's cock is pretty, flushed and glossy from the pre-cum he spreads with his thumb, massaging over the tip like it owes him something.  

You want to taste it.

A contented hum rolls off your tongue at his question, though you don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.  His ego's big enough without it and you’re much more interested in stroking something else.  Still, you lean into his palm, nuzzling your cheek against the warmth of it when he threads his hand through your hair, gathering it in his fist.

Then without looking away, your mouth falls open, tongue peeking past your lips to lick a fat stripe up the length of his cock, from base to tip.  It's hot and heavy on your tongue, the salty taste of his pre-cum better than candy.  You hum again, swirling your tongue around the head, and keep your gaze locked with Jungkook's, almost smirking when you drag your tongue over his fingers, gently grazing the edge of your teeth against the pad of his thumb. 

“Please.”  You’re usually far more reserved, not the kind to ask for more until you’re three months into dating and certain of where you stand.  You simply can’t help yourself now, the feeling of your own wetness painting your skin, making you clench around nothing.  "I need it."

The groan that comes sounds more like Christmas, a gift given by Santa Claus himself.  It filters into your ears and has you grinning up at him, not even bothering to hide the pride that flutters your lashes and has you pursing your lips around the head of his cock.  

When he speaks again, it’s dangerously quiet, low in his throat, laced with whatever same emotion that seems to shackle your limbs.  “Open up, ____,”  he instructs, though he offers little time to adjust, guiding his cock forward, stuffing your mouth full.  “Show me how bad.”

You don’t mind.  If you were to speak, it’d practically be a prayer, tongue tracing the veins that run the length.  A chorus of yes please more when he takes just as much as he gives.  You love the power that comes with Jungkook speaking so filthily, drunk on it when he continues, spewing filth in time with each rock of his hips.

Lips seal around the swollen head each time he withdraws, cheeks hollowing around the tip.  Tongue passes over his fingers again before your hand rises, fingers curling around his wrist to pull his own away.  (You probably shouldn't - it's too romantic - but thread your fingers through his in the same instant you sink down upon his cock, taking him halfway before pulling off with a pop!)

"Do you think you'll last long enough to fuck me?"  You’re pushing his buttons on purpose, just like he had yours during the movie. 

Something close to a snarl comes, a growl that reverberates out of that big cavernous chest of his, and he grips your hair tighter, tries to hold you still as he grins down at you.  The expression is so at odds with the warmth in his eyes, the boyish tilt of his head.

You repeat the motion again and again, taking him a little bit deeper until the head brushes the back of your throat, reflexively swallowing around the intrusion.  He's still so long and thick you haven’t even taken him all, drooling around his length, breathing through your nose and pushing past the desire to gag.  Then you relax your jaw just a little more, humming when your nose brushes the neatly groomed patch of hair at his base.

Your free hand slinks across his thigh, nails digging into the meat, delighted by the flex of muscle and sinew beneath your hand.  He's so hard, both on your tongue and beneath your touch.  It prompts you to shift forward just a bit more - you can feel the slick on your thighs, dripping down onto the sheets with each movement - and trace across his thigh to gently palm his balls.

If you could speak, you’d probably ask for more.  For Jungkook to use and abuse your throat as much as he wants.  As it stands, you can only moan around him, spit and his pre-cum smeared over your lips.

“Look at you.”  He’s talking to himself, lost in his own world as he fucks into your mouth, soothes the pad of his thumb over your cheek.  You adore the way he sounds now, dazed and a little messed up.  “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, ____.”

You can’t do much more than look up at him, batting your lashes when he compliments you, dragging your tongue everywhere you can reach as the head of his cock batters the back of your throat.  It's not an easy feat, drool all the way down your chin, trailing down your neck and staining the silk of your camisole.

At some point, you’ll need to pull off - get a proper breath of air - but not now.  Instead, you swallow around him, savouring the feeling of him filling your mouth, and squeeze gently at his balls.  When you wink up at him, it's half-hearted and with moisture in your eyes, lining lashes in the form of little gemstones.

You do it again and again, moaning lewdly around his cock before it gets too much, pulling off of him with a gasping breath and tears down your cheeks.  “Is it my turn yet?”  You’re only half-joking, made needier by the soreness in your throat, the same you want to feel so desperately between your legs.  Pressing a sweet, chaste peck to his head, tongue dipping into his slit to gather the pre-cum that leaks out, you offer the sweetest smile you can, saccharine sweet and soft.  

“Your turn?”  The way Jungkook snorts is derisive, playful.  It pulls straight off his tongue - which finds yours, swapping spit as he guides you back to the bed.  Teeth collide, lips grown swollen by the intensity of your kiss, and you startle when he nips hard at the bottom petal.  “I thought you were shy.”

“I am,”  you retort, returning the gesture, biting into the curve of his jaw with surprising repose.  Colour blooms beneath the edge of enamel, a smattering of colour that makes you smile, eager to leave more.

Which you would do, if Jungkook weren’t stripping before you, peeling his shirt from his front, tugging it over his head in that weirdly hot way that somehow all boys did.  It reveals skin in a single fluid pull, clothing discarded to the side before he levels you with a smile of his own, one that stirs to life the dimple in his cheek, eyes squinting with the intensity of his delight.  He looks deceptively sweet this way, nothing like the demon who’d just stuffed his cock down your throat.

You’re not sure which version of him you like best.

Seeing him now, dressed in nothing but that absurd, devilishly handsome grin of his, you’re not prepared.  You’re unsure where to look, gaze bouncing between the tattoos that crawl up his arms and span over his left pec, down the neatly defined ridges of his abs, and all the way back to his swollen, shiny cock.

“You’re drooling.”  Of course it’s something he’d say - because he always knows what to say, plucking perfect words from thin air.  The casual banter calms the rattle in your chest and refocuses it on his face that’s too close, looming over yours as his hands make quick work of your clothes, shedding the fabric from your form with deft, measured movements.

You’re ready to say something teasing - anything to distract from the fact that you’re still ogling him - when he catches you in another kiss, softer this time, infinitely sweeter.  Suddenly, you’re shy - which really makes no sense, given what’s transpired.

"Don't make fun of me,"  you mumble, as bashful as you were during the movie, embarrassment burning across your cheeks.  Arms rise to cover what little of your chest you can, folding around his broad palms that encompass them whole, tweaking at the straining buds.

“I’m not,”  Jungkook reassures against your lips, face dropping into the crook of your neck.  He nuzzles against you, sucking affection into the column of your throat, shamelessly laying a wreath of lust into the delicate skin.  You wonder whether he can hear the stutter of your pulse, the reaction his next words elicit.  “You’re pretty when you do it.”

You can’t quite pull your eyes away from his face, shrouded in lemon tart, so good-looking it’s unfair; his broad back and the muscle that threads it, undulating with each movement;  or the way his thighs flex between your spread knees.  You’re dragged through heaven and hell by the brush of his lips, each glide overstimulating your senses to the point of no return.  You’re still burning up, all the foreplay leaving your legs like jelly, cunt dripping with need.  "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Probably not the best thing to say with the position you’re in but the reality of the situation is hitting you and you’re feeling a little vulnerable.  Want an answer that’ll soften the sharp edges of his teeth, the intoxicating glint in his stare.

“No, just you.”  Whether it’s true or not, you can’t say for certain.  You hope it is - wish upon a star for it, laying all your hopes and dreams into the constellations in his eyes.  They’re lovely, winking down at you from the darkest depths, guiding you home.  

You don’t mean to scoff - really, you don’t.  It comes of its own accord, spilling forth like a glass too full.

“You don’t believe me?”  He sounds almost offended, the picture of innocence when he reaches down, hand scrambling about for pooled black fabric.  Comes back up with a packet between his index and middle finger, held aloft like a prize.  

How can you when he’s ready to devour you whole, primed to feast as he rolls the condom over his length, stroking himself once, twice, gaze never wavering from where it rests between your legs.

“Always prepared.”  It’s scathing but somehow tender, too mesmerised by the way he fucks into his loose fist.  You’d say more - maybe make a flippant comment about his reputation - but can’t find the words when he’s teasing you, swollen head tapping teasingly over your core.  It feels like too much, leaves you breathless when he hikes your legs up and nearly folds you in half. 

When he presses into you, the sound you make is sinful, a moan you can’t help.  Jungkook’s so fucking big you’re sure you’re about to split in half, pussy clenching tight around the sudden intrusion.  “Oh my god,”  you whine, hands coiling into his hair, trying desperately to relax, the sting of the stretch battling the pressure that builds as he sinks further in.  “You’re so big.  I c-can’t—”  You’re starting to babble nonsense and he hasn’t even begun moving yet, lips hot over the sweat-slick column of his throat when he bows, burning his presence into the grace of your neck.  A hickey of your own creation blooms right where your mouth is, right over his shoulder.  The salt of his skin distracts you, makes it easier to accommodate the fullness.  “You feel so good, Kook.”  You rock experimentally beneath him, clenching tight as if to draw him deeper.  “Please, move,”  you beg, aiming to form another bruise beneath his skin.

The first thrust chases all the breath from your lungs, a gasp ricocheting off your tongue and into the minimal space between you.  He's absurdly big, stretching you out so well that every stroke feels like heaven.  When he pushes back in, snaps his hips in that easy, effortless motion of his, you’re making the most obscene noises, words lost to his hair as he lavishes your tits with attention.

B-big! is all you manage to squeak out.  It sounds like that, anyway.  With how he's filling you, it's hard to speak coherently;  you can practically feel him in your throat.  (Or maybe that's just from choking on him earlier.  You’re not really sure.)

Hands find their way around his neck, over his shoulders, periwinkle-painted nails leaving light etchings in their wake.  They bloom colour over his back - not too hard, careful still, motor skills barely functioning - before you tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him recklessly close as the pressure builds and builds, flooding your abdomen in heat. 

There’s slick all across your thighs.  You can hear the wet sounds each time Jungkook slips almost all the way out and then rocks back in.  It's terribly messy and so hot but you’re greedy, drunk off the feeling of having this Adonis break you in half.  "Harder, p-please."  Eyes wide, you tug gently at the soft strands at the nape of his neck, meeting his with a flutter of your lashes.  "Please?"

He acquiesces without hesitation, fucks you harder, deeper, like an animal in a rut.  Grinds against you with each thrust, pushing you to your limits.  Even has the audacity to push further, until the strain in your hips conflicts with the pleasure skipping up your spine, melting you into a boneless mass.

You’ve never felt like this, stretched out and used.  You’re used to gentle lovers, sweet - if not boring - lovemaking.  The way Jungkook's pounding into you is unheard of and you’re loving it, his name whimpered on a feedback loop.  A steady Kook, Kook, Kook that twinkles in your ears, inarticulate and pleading as you rock shamelessly against him.

“You like that, ____?”  It’s a question for his own ego, something he knows but asks anyway.  (It’d be impossible not to know the answer when your cunt’s sucking him in, coating his cock in a pretty sheen.)

You’re nodding dumbly, breathless, eager to meet him each time he snaps forward.  (It’s not easy like this, practically prone beneath him, twisted into a pretzel.)  "Like it so m-much.  Feels so good.”  You can’t stop smoothing open mouthed kisses over his fluffy hair, basking in the sunshine that radiates off him. 

There's an ache starting between your legs, pussy swollen around his thick length.  You’re grateful for your natural flexibility, the hot yoga sessions you’d entertained on-and-off for years.  You’re sure you’d feel it in your legs too, knees pushed all the way up by your ears, if not for that.  

But still, you’re defenceless, made to experience each and every thing he has to offer:  every vein and ridge, the head of his cock reaching so deep it's almost too much.  With each stroke, Jungkook’s brushing against the sensitive spot that has pleasure skyrocketing, blossoming like a rose garden in spring.  "R-right there,"  you manage, rolling your hips purposefully, nearly crying each time he brushes against your g-spot.

“Right there?”  He parrots it back, infuriating and adorable, the teasing tenor dripping over you like raindrops.  They settle beneath your skin, sinking into your bones as he rears back just enough, enough to steal a kiss that’s far more tongue than it needs to be.  

It’s almost as if he’s trying to drown you, sink you beneath high tide.  

Spit descends down your chin, trails over your neck and it’s a little gross but you don’t care.  The attention he’s giving is shameless, passed over your cheeks, your throat, your breasts.  He gives and gives, both with his lips and the praise that comes unfettered.  “Perfect,”  he hums, sucking your nipple into his mouth, worrying the bud until it’s straining and puffy, too sensitive when he kisses you again and your own thigh brushes against it.  You whimper at the feeling, pulling softly at his hair, unsure whether you want less or need more.  “So sensitive.  Such a shy girl.  Such a pretty girl.”

Every word of praise has you beaming, nearly purring with delight despite the pain that comes when he puts you through the same once more, laving over the other bud with abandon.  He's sweat-slick, beads of it running down his neck, over the mosaic of bruises you’ve left behind.  It's almost embarrassing how dark his throat is coloured, a dozen reminders left all over his skin.

(You wonder how long they’ll last, how many days will pass as the colour shifts, changing like autumn leaves.  Whether they’ll still be there at your next lecture, if he’ll wear them with pride or cover up beneath one of his big baggy sweaters.)

(You hope it’s the latter.)

(Maybe he’ll let you give him more.)

(Maybe he—)

There’s a change of pace and you’re crying out, hiccupping with each thrust, the head of his cock finding your g-spot with unbearable, unrelenting precision.  Clawing at his arms, long nails digging into the firm muscle of his biceps, something between a sob and a plea rolls off your tongue, over and over.  "So big.  It's too m-much.”  And yet you don’t want him to stop, punch drunk from the way he reaches deep and pulls you tighter against him, hips risen off the bed. 

You’re begging again, eyes rolled so far back in your head you can hardly focus, the coil in your stomach pulled so tight you know it's about to snap.  When Jungkook laughs - a sweet giggle that proves his duality - you clench almost painfully, tears finally spilling over. 

One last brush against your most sensitive spot, one last thrust of that monster cock, and you’re peaking, coming so intensely you feel as if you’re soaring. Everything's suddenly so much more wet, release soaking into the linens beneath you, coating your thighs and his legs and dripping between you.

You’ve never come like this before, without some sort of direct stimulation on your clit.  It’s pleasurable in a different way, severing all your sensibilities, explosive in its magnitude.  It tingles beneath your skin, flooding all your senses. 

"Kook—please—come for me.”  You’re rocking up, forward - trying to, at least, folded as you are - singing his name, pleading for him to fuck his cum into you (momentarily ignorant to the fact that you’ve been responsible, a thin wall of latex separating you from your fucked out fantasy).  

Despite the sensitivity, you’re clenching around him, eager to bring him to his own high.  You want to feel him come apart above you, eroded into a mess like you are.

He’s just as pretty reaching his peak as he is at any other time, handsome face screwed up as if he’s reached nirvana, bliss slacking his features the longer he rides it out, bucking into you as he fills the condom and still doesn’t stop.  It’s almost unbearable, oversensitivity spilling into pleasure until he leisurely grinds to a halt, stops the inconsistent pressure against your bundle of nerves, the assault on your fluttering walls.

When he collapses against you, whole face squished between the valley of your breasts, you can’t help but laugh, the sound breathless and endeared.  “Are you okay?”  You don’t mind where he is, weight comforting, skin sticky on yours.  He’s unbelievably warm - a blanket fresh from the wash and yet so much better, lulling you into a sense of security.

“Better than okay,”  he murmurs against your chest, smothering open-mouthed kisses over skin, snickering when you jolt at the feel of his teeth over your nipple one last time.  “You’re welcome.”  It’s an indulgent, facetious expression of gratitude, one that you haven’t asked for.  You laugh all the same, ducking your head into the crown of spun gold atop his head.  

“You too.”

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @codeinebelle​

[shotorozu]

hello! i love ur writings <3

wanted to request a hc of todoroki, deku, and bakugou and their reactions to the tiktok trend where those two girls are laughing and ppl put their friends/family members in the camera thinking it’s their friend or something 💀 (here’s a link to one of the videos https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe6oFVx5/ )

once again, love ur work and hopefully i did this request correctly 😩🙏🏽

s/o’s friends laugh at them

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

headcanon type : crack, fluff (x reader)

note(s) : i always say that i’m going to upload more, since i haven’t in a day but i’m going to keep my promises this time. and maybe after my content dump, that’s when i’ll fix my masterlists

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

this prank was very risky just like the other pranks you’ve pulled on him but that doesn’t stop you at all

you decided to do this prank after seeing it on the fyp— and also because of the prank’s simplicity since all you needed to do was download the tiktok

you called katsuki over when he finishes working out, and it all seems innocent “katsuki! come over here.”

katsuki, irritated— as he had just finished his exercise, he marches over to where you’re seated “what now, dumbass?”

“i want you to meet my friends!” katsuki only raises a brow, because he’s PRETTY sure that he’s met all of your friends

“now??” he sighs, “i thought i met all of your stupid friends.”

“not all of them,” you grin “c’mon please, katsuki?” and it’s over when your eyes twinkle, and he can only sigh— sitting next to you

“okay, let me meet them” he asks, and you pull up with your phone (that’s now filming, and with the video playing) and show him your ‘friends’

“this is katsuki! my boyfriend,” you introduce him to your ‘friends’

and he’s SO offended when your friends burst into laughter, “WHAT THE HELL’S SO FUNNY, EXTRAS??”

man was really about to explode your phone into pieces— and i’m serious about that part 🧎‍♂️ his hands were creating mini sparks out of anger

you had to coax him that it was just a prank, and they weren’t actually your friends

katsuki’s just 😐 “what did i expect from you?”

promise him that the video won’t go viral, and it won’t be seen by thousands and thousands of people.

you were wrong, and the video AND the audio ended up going viral. and katsuki had to hear his voice on tiktok for WEEKS.

“YOU TOLD ME IT WOULDN’T GO VIRAL DUMBASS” he fumes, red irises zeroing in on you.

“WELL SORRY— I DONT CONTROL THE ALGORITHM, but at least you’re famous!”

“fuck off,” he doesn’t mean that. but he just needs to learn how to not fall for your shit again, despite being really whipped for you

midoriya izuku

you’d feel bad because izuku’s ALWAYS at the receiving end of your pranks 💀

similar to bakugou, you decided to prank him because of the simplicity of the prank— and he wouldn’t get TOO offended by the prank’s nature, right? wrong 💀

izuku swings the door open, a couple of snacks held in his arms, “hey Y/N! i brought some snacks— what did you need me for?”

“oh, i want you to meet my cousins!”

he immediately goes red, setting down the snacks he brought to your room “your c-cousins? oh no no no, Y/N why didn’t you tell me? i could’ve showered before hand— i could’ve fixed my face and wore something different—”

poor izuku. he’s gesturing to his post workout state, since he was in such a hurry to get to your room with snacks.

but you brush his concern off “don’t worry, izuku! it’s through call. they won’t be able to smell you anyway.”

he calms down, and this when you decide to start the tiktok. “i’m going to call them,” he only nods, quickly hurrying over to your side— to meet your ‘cousins’

“say hi, izuku!” he nervously smiles, showing his face to the camera and waving his hand— totally oblivious of the intentions

he’s stammering on the introduction, and that’s when the rather hysterical laughing starts

he blinks, the feeling of defeat courses through his entire body— the green haired boy immediately moves away from the view

why exactly is izuku genuinely sad from your ‘cousins’ laughing at him? well,, it was always a thing for him to try his very best to be likeable to your relatives

your parent(s)/guardian? they adore him. siblings (if there’s any) they’re also very fond of him. so while you say that they’re your cousins— it still means a lot if he made a good impression

“i,, should’ve changed!” he sulks, the fact that the laugh was quite hysterical didn’t aid the issue, “your cousins will never like me,,”

his mind is put at ease when you tell him it’s a prank— and they’re not actually your cousins. so he doesn’t need to do any redeeming, regardless of the fact that he ‘just met’ them

he sighs in relief, actually glad that it was all just another innocent tiktok prank (that did make his heart race 10x faster)

the video blows up, his distraught reaction being splayed across the fyp, it eventually getting onto twitter— his face being used as an reaction video

“you’re viral, izuku!”

he’s content, despite his distraught reaction being spread across the internet. but he just wishes that your actual cousins don’t see it 💀

todoroki shouto

is most likely aware of your tiktok pranks— but please 💀 this one looked realistic to him, so how was he supposed to tell??

anyways, you decided to do this prank because you wanted to see how he’d react to your ‘family members’ laughing at him. his reactions are golden though

it’s harmless, in a way— it’s mostly a harmless prank. shouto knows how to not take things too seriously, but you just wanted to see his reactions.

“shouto, could you please come over here?” you call for him to sit right next to you, patting his usual spot next to you.

“what is it?” he asks, getting comfortable next to you, kissing your temple— and that’s when you pull out your phone

“i want you to meet my siblings!”

shouto’s puzzled, because one— he always prefers to meet your family members in person, and two— he didn’t know you had siblings (or more siblings)

“we’re not meeting them in person?”

“oh wait! i forgot to mention that they’re working abroad. so we can’t really schedule a meeting in person.”

shouto’s skeptical, but you reassure him further “it’ll be quick!”

the dual haired boy chooses to believe you which was honestly really wrong of him, “alright, i’ll meet them.”

he moves next to you, peaking at the screen “say hi to shouto!”

he was expecting a few things but,, them breaking out into hysterical laughter was just something else

shouto’s so confused 💀✋ someone please help him, it’s like you spoke to him in simlish. that’s what his reaction would be like.

and he’s just thinking things like— why are you guys laughing? is there dirt on my face? i didn’t even say anything funny??

“why are they laughing? love, i didn’t even say anything funny??”

oblivious shouto. he’s not even aware that it’s all just a tiktok prank. but he must say— he’s a little bit disappointed that he already has a bad impression on your ‘siblings’

it’s your turn to laugh, making his thinking at a vague state— shouto’s trying to think of pieces of dialogue he might’ve missed

“it’s a prank, shouto— look,” you replay the tiktok of the girls laughing, and it comes clearly to him now

“oh.” 🧍 honestly, why is he so shocked? it wasn’t the first time you managed to prank him in such a similar nature.

he’s not mad though— rather, shouto’s impressed. “love, i adore you— but i’m not sure on why i got surprised.”

“right? i’d think that you’re used to this but i guess you’re not!” nah, he just believes you a little bit too easily.

but that doesn’t mean he WON’T be suspicious when he actually has to meet your siblings.

“these,, are actually your siblings? no pranks this time, right?” he just wants to make sure. he won’t fall for your potential pranks again!

also, the video does well, the comments being filled with “LMAO HE LOOKED GENUINELY CONFUSED” “shouto todoroki being confused for 20 seconds straight 🤠❓❓”

shouto is very confused on why the girls were just laughing, putting everything aside— he just doesn’t know the context of that tiktok 🧎‍♂️

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[axoxtxhxh]

Pairing: Sub!Goshiki x DomFem! Chubby!Reader Part 2 Summary: You met your good friend Goshiki at work one day, having similar interests in books. When you start developing feelings for him, things get difficult. Especially when he asks a special favor. Content: Body image issues, heated makeout session, strong sexuality, heavy grinding over clothes Word Count: ~ 4,100

A/N: Yay for part two! This is Part 2 of my three part series with Goshiki! I will post Part 3 on Friday. If you missed Part 1, check out the Please Me Series Masterlist where you can find all of our stories for the Please Me series!

One week. It had been one full week since you’d heard from Goshiki. He left your apartment so quickly and you didn’t really have much time to think about why before your self-doubt and body image issues took over. It was stupid of you to be so upset over it because honestly, you really had only met Goshiki a couple months ago. But it did hurt and you wereupset because these last couple months had been the best months you’d ever had and it was as if it was all taken away in that moment he walked out the door.

You were tracing circles on the desk at work when you saw someone walk into the bookstore and your eyes shot to the door. It wasn’t Goshiki and you slumped back down, drawing your circles.

“God, you’re depressing.” Dylan’s voice came from behind you. “Why don’t you just text him?”

“So I can be that weird clingy person.” You shivered, standing up straight and facing him. “No thank you.”

“You’re a writer and you don’t think that maybe he hasn’t texted because he’s thinking the same thing? It’s writing 101.”

“I am a writer, but I already told you, I am not the kind of person that has a role in these stories. I’m like the side character that tells the main character they’re doing a great job.” You drummed your fingers on the desk, quickly looking at the door again as another person walked in and Dylan laughed.

“Why don’t you go take a break.” He stopped your fingers.

“I just had mine.”

“Well take another. And go for a walk. You’re going to break your neck if you keep looking at the entrance like that.” He laughed.

“I’m fine, Dylan.”

“You’re not and neither am I. I need coffee. Grab me some?”

“So now I’m your gofer?” You laughed, taking his card.

“And buy yourself something. I don’t need you ogling my cup when you get back.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You walked out the front and set out to your coffee shop. The fresh air did feel really nice, not to mention it was one of the better days that week, weather-wise. You almost wished the café were a little bit farther so you could have more time to enjoy the day. Almost wished. The amount of times the close proximity of this café had saved you from a rough work day was monstrous.

When you reached the coffee shop, it was midday and the way the light hit the glass windows and door, you couldn’t see the inside so it came as quite a shock when the door swung open and nearly hit you in the face. What came as more of a surprise was who was opening the door. You had a mini moment of panic as you watched Goshiki turn around, having used his butt to push the door open.

You both stood there for a second staring at each other, neither one of you knowing what to say.

“Gos—” You started, stopping when he said your name at the same time. You both laughed lightly which gave you a bit of hope. “You can go first.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked down. “The way I left wasn’t really fair to you.”

“No, it’s okay. I feel like I sort of pushed you into the kiss.”

“No! You didn’t! It wasn’t the kiss.”

“It was because I sat on your lap.”

“Yeah.” He smiled, nodding and you sighed quietly, trying not to feel the ache in your heart.

You knew it. You knew it was because of you. He ran out because you nearly smothered him.

“I’ve just never had anyone… that close… like… on me. And the way we were touching… I was having… like—Ugh, I’m not making sense.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to explain.” You shrugged, hoping you seemed nonchalant and not like you were about to cry. “I get it.”

“You do?” His eyes opened wide and looked at you.

“Yeah, I know I’m not small.” You couldn’t look him in the eye so you focused on the two coffee cups in his hands. “It probably felt like you were being crushed—”

“What?” He interjected quickly. “No, that’s not it at all. Is that what you were thinking this whole time?”

“Well, yeah.” You finally looked up at him and he sighed.

“That—I keep telling you, you look amazing. It’s not you. The problem is that I’m a virgin. I’ve never done anything like that. I’ve barely even kissed anyone.”

“You—you’re a virgin?”

“Yes.”

“And you ran out…”

“Because I was nervous. I didn’t know how to tell you and I definitely didn’t know how to continue. I…” You could tell he was trying to figure out how to explain to you what he was feeling, but he couldn’t get it into words and you smiled. He didn’t think you were heavy. He didn’t think you were too big and he didn’t run out because he was disgusted by you.

“Goshiki?” You were still smiling, unable to hide your happiness at this new information. “Do you want to just forget it happened for now?”

You could visibly see the relief in his face and you watched his shoulders relax as he smiled.

“Yes. Honestly, that would be perfect. Can I walk you back to work?”

“Yes.” You nodded, a nearly permanent smile on your face. “Who’s the coffee for?”

He looked down at the cup in each hand. “You. I was going to bring it to you and apologize.”

You had a moment where you both looked at each other and smiled, both happy things were going to be okay before you quickly went in the coffee shop and bought Dylan’s coffee, taking your time on the walk back to the bookstore with Goshiki.

There was nothing hidden in the look on Dylan’s face as you stepped into the bookstore, waving to Goshiki as he headed back to practice.

“What the hell? I told you to get me a coffee and you come back with the guy you’ve been snapping your neck for every time someone walks in?”

“It was sending me to get you coffee that had me running into him.” You handed Dylan his cup. “It’s fine though. We were able to talk a little and I think things are okay.”

“If you had a talk that fast, things are not okay.”

“It was more like we talked about having a talk. He’s going to come by at the end of my shift.”

“So was I right?” He took a sip from his cup and you made a face.

“Right about what?” You drank from your cup, narrowing your eyes.

“He wasn’t texting you for the same reason you weren’t texting him?”

“What does that even matter.” You rolled your eyes.

“It does something to me knowing I’m right.” He smiled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as if he could smell his correct guess. “Strokes my ego a bit.”

“I don’t think I’m willing to give you that satisfaction.”

“I was right.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to.” He smiled and you turned around to look at the door, pretending to ignore him when he appeared at your ear, whispering. “I was right.”

The rest of your shift flew by yet somehow took forever to end. You tried to keep yourself busy, but there really was only so much you could do with limited customers and an anxious heart.

The one good thing that did come from your shift was the new shipments of books, one of them was the book both you and Goshiki had been waiting for. He still felt weird taking books home so you started buying them with your discount and you hid a stack for him behind the counter. All of your coworkers knew this so when he walked in, they handed him the stack and he found a place to sit and read. He was going to be so happy the new book came in and you were worried about how happy it made you at the thought of him being excited over it.

As the time got closer to when he was supposed to show up, you started to feel nervous.  You were happy things were better and you got to talk about what happened, but now it was becoming really hard to ignore the fact that you definitely did have feelings for Goshiki. He never made it clear whether he did or didn’t, he only mentioned that he had never had sex and doesn’t have a lot of experience, but that wasn’t enough for you to think that he could like you.

You could actually kick yourself for suggesting to forget about the kiss. He seemed really excited to forget it though so maybe he didn’t like you. But then again, he could have been happy to forget about the awkwardness in which case he may have been okay with the kiss and maybe did have feelings for you. Damn it, anxiety!

You dropped your head into your hands and looked down at the counter as your phone buzzed. It was five minutes until your shift was over and Goshiki just messaged.

No! You cannot meet me later! You thought. I am over here freaking out because I don’t know how you feel about me and I’m about to bury my head into the sand if I don’t die of a heart attack first.

Great, now he wasn’t even going to come to the bookstore. Your anxiety would have to sit a little longer.

You headed home and did your best not to think about it which was nearly impossible. With your laptop on your lap, you got to writing. If Goshiki was going to be a while, you might as well make use of the time. You mentally slapped yourself when you thought of the way his eyes glued to the screen when he read your stories and went back to focusing.

It took you a bit, but once you got into the zone, you were able to block out the rest of the world and the rest of your thoughts and just write. By the time you heard a knock at the door, you looked at the clock. It had been an hour. You moved your laptop to the coffee table and stood up, making your way to the door. Each step you took you got more and more nervous, no longer able to brush the anxiety aside because the cause of the anxiety was right behind the door. You took a deep breath and opened it.

Damn it. It was a package. The box was small and you could barely read the label, but as soon as you picked it up, you were almost jumping out of excitement. You went to the kitchen, grabbing scissors and opening the box up. Your business cards.

It had taken you a while to drum up the courage to order them. Both Dylan and Goshiki badgering you until you placed the order. The material you chose made the wait time so much longer, but it was way more than worth it holding it in your hands. The soft, almost velvety feel of the matte black card gave you a smile you couldn’t hold back. You closed your eyes, rubbing the card in between your fingers and smiled.

“Your cards came in?” A voice came from behind you and you jumped, your hand flying to your chest as you turned around.

“Holy shit, Goshiki. You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He laughed. “The door was open so I thought you knew I was coming.

“I left it open?” You peeked behind him to the door.

“Yeah. I closed it.” He was looking at the counter where you left the box of cards. “Can I see them?”

“Here.” You handed him the card and he looked at it, smiling. “You can keep that one.”

“Thanks.”

Everything was so awkward. You couldn’t understand how it was so comfortable in front of the café, but now it was so awkward.

“Can we talk?”

That was why it was awkward. There was something he wanted to say and it had your chest tightening.

“Sure.”

You moved to sit on the couch and he sat next to you, rubbing his palms on his thighs. He looked up to you, opening his mouth like he was going to speak, but then closing it quickly and looking back down at his hands.

“You okay?”

“I… I’m okay. I was hoping that we could… I mean, I know you’re not—we’re not rea…” He blew air out through his cheeks.

“Goshiki, whatever it is, you can tell me.” You put your hand on his shoulder and felt him tense up. There was a short pause, but then he quickly turned to you and pushed himself forward so your lips were touching. His lips already moving roughly against yours.

His hand was on your cheek and trying to bring you closer to him. This was different than before, he was way more active, his tongue pushing through your lips, not even waiting for you to open your mouth. His weight pushed you back so you were almost laying down. It felt so good feeling his entire body against yours, so warm and strong, but you couldn’t shake that he was pushing too fast. You only just learned he was a virgin and now he was rushing into this.

“Go—Goshi—Goshiki! Wait.” You struggled to get a word out, each time your mouth was open, he used to chance to push his tongue in, but he pulled back to look at you. His lips were starting to look swollen, almost bee stung and it was adorable, but you shook that out of your mind. “What are—we just talked. I thought because of your inexperience…”

“I want to do it with you.” He spoke so casually, as if he’d seriously thought about it. “If that’s okay.”

If that’s okay? Yes! You most definitely wanted to rip his clothes off and run your tongue over every inch of him. The look in his eyes had you wetter than you could remember being, but this was kind of a big deal for him. You weren’t sure if rushing into this with you was such a good idea.

“I mean… are you sure?” You asked, rubbing his cheek lightly and he nodded.

“Take me.” He whispered as he leaned back in. You didn’t even have time to smile at his use of one of your favorite romance novel’s title before his lips were back on yours.

This time was way more passionate. You could feel his hands all over you, less hesitant than before as they moved up your body. His inexperience was so plainly obvious to you now that you knew it, it made you wonder how you didn’t notice before. The way his lips moved against your lips, still unsure of how they were supposed to fit with yours. The way his tongue was moving around your mouth heavily, almost beating the inside of your cheeks. The way his dick was honestly already so incredibly hard against your thigh. He was barely thrusting as he moaned into your mouth, his fingers tangled in your hair.

His other hand continued its movements up and down your sides, lingering longer each time as he got closer to your breasts.

You were finding it harder to guide him as he lay on top of you and you put your hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back, but at the slightest resistance from you, he quickly stopped. His eyes, so heavily lidded, looked down at you.

“A—Is it okay?” His cheeks were pink and his lips were red, shiny with spit, as he licked them.

“It’s okay.” You smiled. “Are you okay?”

“Your lips are so soft.” He leaned in again to kiss you. “They taste like strawberries.”

His mouth was all over yours again, but this time softer, gentler, and instead of his tongue being shoved into your mouth, it delicately brushed over your lips. All of it had your breath catching in your throat and you were wondering how he could have switched so quickly from the first kiss.

You felt that familiar tingle run through your body, goosebumps raising on your skin, and your hands went to Goshiki’s back to pull him closer to you. You wanted him. Your fear of overthinking anything was far from your mind as you felt his warm hand slide under your shirt and rest on your stomach.

God, he was so hard, his cock pressed up against you, his grinding became rougher, but you didn’t mind it at all. He was wearing his tracksuit and the pants were definitely thin enough for you to feel everything. Your lips were numb from all the kissing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away until he did, leaning back a little for air.

“Take off your jacket.” You commanded. He sat up fully, nodding and you sat up with him, pulling your own shirt off.

It was unfortunate that you really weren’t expecting anything like this to happen so your current bra situation was a sports bra, but at least it was your cute black one that showed off your cleavage. Based on the motionless stare Goshiki had on your breasts, he didn’t seem to mind at all what bra you were wearing.

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him down, smiling with him into the kiss until his lips moved to your neck and you shivered at his breath on your skin. You could feel his inexperience again, but it’s almost as if it didn’t matter this time because he was grinding even harder against you and you wrapped your legs around him, almost forcing him into position to rub roughly against your clit.

Goshiki had been letting out tiny whimpers here and there as well as the occasional moan, but you had been relatively quiet until his erection hit that swollen and sensitive bud of nerves so perfectly that you moaned out, almost awkwardly with how loud it was and your hand went to his hair. If anything, Goshiki took this as a sign to keep going and he ground harder against you, hoping to make you feel it again.

“It feels so good.” He whispered against your skin and you couldn’t have agreed more, literally pulling him even closer against you and he kept grinding, even faster, moaning even louder.

You loved when your partner was loud. From what you knew about Goshiki, he loved praise in everyday life. You could only imagine what it would do to him in the bedroom.

“I love the way you touch me.” You groaned quietly. He paused for a second before his hands started roaming over you again, this time further, touching parts of you he was too hesitant to touch before. “Just like that. Don’t stop, you’re so good at that.”

It’s like you could feel his heart racing, his uncertainty fading and his cock twitching against you as you complimented him. The more you praised him, the harder he worked, his moans getting louder and louder and it reached a point where if he wasn’t faking it, you were sure he would orgasm.

His face was still in your chest, his hips wildly rubbing against you. His moaning turned to groans which then became grunting before one long grunt escaped him and his hips flew forward against yours, his body shaking then stilling and he started panting.

You’re in no way an expert, but you were experienced enough to know that Goshiki just came in his pants. He wasn’t moving, his face was resting against your chest as he took deep breaths.

“Oh fuck.” You could hear him whisper into your chest. “Oh shit.”

“Goshiki.” Your hand was still on his back and you honestly didn’t know what to do or say to him because you really couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “It—it’s okay.”

That was probably the worst thing to say. You were not quick to thinking ever and this definitely showcased that. You’ve had men come too soon before, but you both kept going, waiting for him to be ready again before you moved forward.

It was different for Goshiki though and it was your job to guide him. A job you were failing at.

After a minute or so, he sat up, sitting back on the couch and he stared at the coffee table, unable to bring his eyes to you.

“Gosh—"

“I should go home and change.” He looked at you and you could see how mortified he felt before he quickly looked away. “Yeah, I’m gonna go change.”

“Um, okay.” You scooted off the couch to stand up with him. “Do you want me to come with?”

“No, it’s fine.” He already put his jacket back on and was moving to the door. “I’ll message you later.”

He didn’t message. Not that day and not the day after or the day after that. You were beginning to feel like it was your fault again. It wasn’t like before, but you felt just as bad as you did before.

The last time you felt like this, you were at work worried that you had destroyed your friendship with Goshiki and you started to feel better after going for a walk so that should work this time too. At least that’s what you told yourself when you started putting on your shoes. You opened your door to leave, to go somewhere, anywhere to get yourself out of your apartment and out of your head for a little.

When you opened the door, you jumped back, surprised someone was standing there. Goshiki had his hand up, ready to knock, a startled look on his face. You both stared at each other, stunned and completely not expecting to see the other. Goshiki’s hand stayed in the air, in a fist as if he was going to eventually need to knock. Like you would just close the door so the entire exchange could start fresh.

“Goshiki.” You were the first one to speak and when you did, it’s as if he woke up and slowly put his hand down.

“I’m sorry I didn’t message. I said I would.”

It was still really uncomfortable. You weren’t sure what to say and it wasn’t as if you were mad, but you couldn’t help but think that maybe he thought you were mad. The pause before you spoke was too long and now you felt like you couldn’t say anything at all because it would seem weird or fake because you hesitated. Damn it, anxiety!

“Sorry. You must have been going somewhere.” He stepped to the side, looking down and you could tell he was contemplating just leaving.

“Do you want to talk?” You also stepped aside and he looked up, pausing before nodding and stepping inside your apartment.

It seemed like a terrible idea to sit on that couch so you moved to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, Goshiki across from you.

“It was stupid and unfair of me to leave again.” He started. “I—”

“No, it was my fault.” You stepped closer to him, leaning on the kitchen island in between the both of you. “I should have been better. I’m the one with experience.”

“But leaving isn’t helpful. I promise, I won’t leave anymore. I was just so embarrassed.” He rubbed his forehead, making a face, his cheeks already a bright pink at the memory.

“There’s nothing wrong with coming in your pants.” You assured him. “I came in my pants too.”

“You did?” His eyes were wide as he looked at you.

“No, sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” You admitted and he looked back down, discouraged again and you walked around the counter, putting your hand on his shoulder. “I mean, I could have, if—”

“If I didn’t come in mine first?” He laughed and you almost let a sigh of relief out at seeing his smile. “Can I be honest?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I might like you.” He looked down, not able to look at you while he spoke. Though if he did, he would have seen the huge smile on your face. “So as much as I want to lose my virginity, maybe we could slow down.”

The only visual description you had for describing how you felt in that moment was fireworks. Fireworks were going off in your brain, in front of your eyes, all around Goshiki and you couldn’t believe what he had said. He liked you.

“Goshiki?” It was still nearly impossible to contain your excitement at his confession, but you were doing your best, biting your lip so you wouldn’t scream out with delight. “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

He quickly looked up at you and smiled. That smile you can never say no to.

.....

Taglist: @chaotic-nick​ @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes​ @serostapesweat​ @lovelyzabrak-meadow​

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers being Soft for Their Daughters 

Might just be me but I think there's nothing cuter than a Dad who loves his daughter so I made a hc for our boys. Strap in, it’s a long one! 

IMPORTANT! Watch out for first half spoilers! Assumed that the child is a half human/half demon with the MC!

Lucifer

Tries to be really strict but ends up being kind of a pushover.

Oh there ARE rules that even his little girl can't break, but most of the time she can get away with almost anything if she's cute clever enough.

Pushes her to be the best at almost anything she tries, expectations be real high; gonna take the MC stepping in to remind him winning isn't everything and please cool it on the pressure.

Lowkey learned his lesson before and doesn't want to make another Satan situation so tries to take MC's advice to heart and not be quite so controlling.

Her favorite uncle is Mammon and he gets cold sweats about this every night.

Wasn't able to be there for a lot of her firsts due to work and gets real sulky when he misses out. Videos just don't offer the same experience...

Feels bad that work keeps him so busy so he tries to make up for it with toys, clothes, jewelry, pretty much whatever she likes at the time.

Would never admit it, but his black heart melts every time he comes home and sees she's excitedly waiting by the door.

One of those parents who will never stop bragging about how amazing their kid is to anyone who will listen, but never when she's in the same room.

100% that overprotective "I'm going to give you a brief tour of the torture chamber, then we’ll browse my whip collection. Oh, make sure she's home by 8" kind of dad if she were to ever bring home a date. They will know that his baby is not to be messed with (like anyone's crazy enough to try honestly).

Mammon

So over the goddamn moon that someone actually wanted to have a kid with him that he couldn't shut up about it for weeks.

Treasures his little girl more than anything he owns, even Goldie. When she's a baby the two of them are practically inseparable.

The biggest pushover to ever be pushed. She's about the only person he's ever unconditionally generous to and he really spoils her rotten.

She's just as materialistic as her father, honestly, but MC made sure their girl was raised with good morals. The first of which being no stealing. Ever. She works for every cent she spends.

On the one hand, he's actually pretty damn proud and relieved that she won't be called "scum" or anything like her father, but on the other hand like… Ew. Who raised you? (No one remind him it’s kind of his doing anyway).

For once in his greedy existence, he can tell a sob story about really needing that loan or those shoes for his beloved daughter and actually mean it… most of the time 😏

Even when she's young, though, she will ask him if a gift he's giving her was taken from someone else and, man, he cannot lie to her face. People shame him for stealing all the time but the little look of disappointment she gives him hurts WAY more than all of his brothers’ insults combined.

Probably one of the most supportive and involved dads in existence. He will be at every game, every recital, every meet. Even if he's complaining the whole time, if anyone so much as suggests that he just shouldn't go he'd be appalled.

…. He's perhaps a little too involved because he's also totally the kind of father who will lowkey stalk his daughter's dates to be sure nothing bad happens. MC, please step in. She needs privacy too.

Leviathan

Was incredibly worried about having a kid, he's not even had the best track record when it comes to pets and parenting is some high-level normie stuff. But his little girl's first smile absolutely melted his doubts away.

That being said… he's still not the greatest with little kids. For a long time if the baby so much as sneezed unexpectedly he'd start shouting for the MC and checking every website he can like??? My half demon baby won't stop sneezing, is it pneumonia???

Gets a lot less panicky as the child gets older, but in those early years he'd practically want to stick them in a bubble wrap suit.

He passed on his love of the ocean and underwater creatures pretty early on. The running joke is that his girl knew how to swim before she knew how to crawl.

Family aquarium trips are an absolute must.

The second they're old enough to understand plot he's introducing them to his favorite shows, but only the best (and most child-friendly) ones of course. He wants his daughter to grow into a woman of culture, damnit! Pop culture that is.

Sooo much text/chat lingo between these two. It's not her fault really. She was bound to pick it up but man can it sound like they're speaking tongues at times.

With practice she can and will beat her old man at most video games and, yes, it makes his cry tears of equal parts pride and aggravation.

Has a mini-panic attack every time she hits a new milestone, like, yes he's so fucking proud but also don't you think she's growing up too fast??? MY BABY GIRL!!! 😭😭😭

Cries like a baby to the MC when she goes out on her first date because he realized she's really, truly, growing up and he's afraid his little girl isn't going to want to spend time with her lame old dad anymore.

Satan

Tries to be strict and IS strict but mostly on schoolwork.

Her grades best not be slippin' or this Book Papa will take all her stuff away. End of discussion.

Otherwise, he's surprisingly chill being the Avatar of Wrath and all. He of all people understands the desire to just have your own life and do your own thing.

She'll inherit his temper though, that's a given, and if they both get going then watch out. Fights between them can get verbally explosive, but never physical. Even at his angriest Satan would never once lay a hand on his daughter.

Read to her every night when she was young: storybooks, novels, mythologies, didn't matter to him. Whatever she wanted to hear. Still, he was so proud the day she told him that she wanted to read on her own.

100% makes nearly everything in life a teachable lesson but also helps her when she needs it. He wants her to forge her own path but is still very supportive when the situation calls for it.

Would never EVER admit it, but he does just as many dad jokes as Lucifer.

Of all the brothers, he's probably the most typical father to have, there for his kid just enough while also making sure they're not getting away with murder.

Is totally chill with her dating because he knows he doesn’t have to be super protective of her. She can more than handle herself if something goes wrong, in fact, if he were to step in it would probably add insult to their already grievance injury.

That being said, he IS the Avatar of Wrath. If someone hurts his girl he’s going to have a turn one way or another.

Asmodeus

Oh YEEESSS, he's not normally the commitment kind of guy but he and MC raising a child? They'd be the most gorgeous thing in the universe!!! (Not counting himself of course)

Beautifying his baby since day one, but the MC keeps him from doing anything too extreme. A lot of baths, good moisturizer, hairstyling (when she grows enough of it), etc.

Soooo many outfits. She'll practically never wear the same thing twice and Asmo coordinates his own clothes to match hers all the time.

He actually goes out and parties LESS if you can believe it, especially when she's young and needs a lot of supervision. But he'll get pent up real quick so learning how to do a quiet quickie during naptime is a must.

His girl is all over his Devilgram, nearly every milestone is snapped up and recorded. He loves her more than anything and would just scream about his pride and joy from the rooftops if social media didn't provide him that outlet.

Makes sure his daughter knows that she is gorgeous, she is loved, and passes on every bit of self-confidence he has. Doesn't matter if she grows up a girly-girl, tomboy, or anything else under the sun. When you're feeling good just being you, heads will turn on their own accord!

Not the best at discipline and would only really step in if he thinks she's being a real jerk about something. Day to day attitude adjustments are totally up to the MC.

He is, however, the best sex-ed teacher one could ever ask for and makes sure his daughter knows there's no shame in what comes natural, just be sure you're respectful and responsible!

Completely unfazed when the suitors began lining up, I mean she is HIS daughter. It was inevitable. Offers tips and advice when he can but lets her go off and experiment naturally. Young love is a beautiful thing! (Just don't break his girl's heart though because he may lowkey curse your whole bloodline)

Beelzebub 

….. MC, you're going to be eaten out of house and home.

Though his daughter's appetite isn't AS bad as his, Beel could tell it's going to be an issue from day one but he's ready for it.

Dedicates his freaking life to being sure she never goes one night hungry. He'll cook, he'll shop, he'll even share from his own plate if he has to. The thought of her going through anywhere near the level of starvation he feels on a daily basis is enough to crush his soul (if he has one)

You better bet there will be eating competitions. She never wins, but the fact she can even get close will have him grinning anyway.

That being said, he will push for a healthy and active lifestyle for her too. 

Highkey wants her playing sports and doing team activities because he genuinely thinks it will help her stay healthy and make friends.

Just the right amount of discipline. Tries to be understanding but also knows when to call a spade, a spade and express his disapproval.

Very in-tune to her emotions and her needs even if he can’t quite grasp WHY she's feeling the way she is. Keeping up with teen drama is going to be the bane of his existence...

Uncle Belphie=That one cool uncle who lets you get away with anything and probably gives out sugar after bedtime.

One of the only brothers who makes a point of his daughter also seeing and exploring her human heritage too and not just treating her like a pseudo-demon… And it's totally not just for the added excuse of sampling human world cuisine, like, come on who do you take him for? 🤫

Somewhat cautious about her dating, but ultimately just wants her to be happy. He'll usually trust her judgment but he's pretty good at reading someone's character and if he gets real bad vibes from anyone he's not above telling her, "No. Not that one." Whether or not he's listened to depends on the situation.

Belphegor

Lol MC, you could have picked a much better choice. Borderline Deadbeat/Cool Dad here!

Kids… not his thing. He doesn't dislike them exactly, they're just a lot of work and he's sort of allergic to that. He's more of a semi-irresponsible babysitter type.

Case in point, "Belphie, watch the baby" becomes "Belphie, if you're going to take a nap at least hold onto her leg so she doesn't go anywhere."

Only saving grace is she takes after him so most days she's pretty dang sleepy too. Naptime is a good third of the daily routine (not that anyone is complaining).

Shit at discipline because, like, what leg does he have to stand on? If she wants to ditch class, why not let her? Once or twice ain't that bad.

Takes her on a lot of "field trips" to the human world like he would with Lilith. Genuinely wants her to experience both sides of her identity and encourages her to explore her human side just as much as her demon.

The kind of chill dad that you feel comfortable going to when you've got to talk out a problem or need life advice. He might not be able to offer many answers, but he tries in his own way.

Will prank his kid and will not feel sorry, but is never cruel about it. In fact, this will only spur on a mutual prank war between the two.

Uncle Beel=that genuinely nice uncle who tries to teach you life lessons and how to take care of yourself… while also eating a ton of food.

Would be super confused at first if she started dating like?? How? He kind of sees her like a mini-him at times and his human came to him. Since when did she stay awake long enough to leave the house?? But otherwise he goes with the flow. Whatever she wants, her life.

He might get a bit more agitated if she starts to date a human, like, lowkey bad flashbacks to the whole Lilith situation and the MC would probably have to cool his jets about it. Different circumstances after all.

[undyingskies]

Lets Have a Baby

request: yes;

“Heyy i love your writing and if you are taking requests can you do one with charlie similar to the one you did with owen where him and the reader have a pregnancy scare but unlike owens, Charlie is kinda disappointed by not having a kid so he tells her they should actually try. Thank you so much in advance!”

A/N:  I hope you guys enjoy, this was a lot of fun to write!

Warnings: Talk about pregnancy and a few curse words. 

tagged: @mah-gah-lee , her and her fics are the best! check her blog out!

___________________________

You had been feeling really off for a few weeks now. You couldn’t really seem to put your finger on why. They were normal symptoms, nothing unusual, the only unusual thing was the fact that they were constantly persistent.

Over the last few weeks your normal headaches seemed to turn into migraines that would last for days. No medicine could help them, only warm showers and naps helped. In between migraines it seemed like waves of nausea took up that time.

All while dealing with the off and on migraines and nausea, your body was in constant pain and you were exhausted. You couldn’t tell if the exhaustion was just from the constant strain on your body from the aches or from the running back and forth to the bathroom thinking your stomach would empty itself. Or if the exhaustion was just another part of your new normal.

Today was like any other day you’ve been experiencing recently. You were in your bed, a heating pad placed on your lower back, with all the lights off. The strain from your migraine fading as the minutes pass on, giving you some peace.

You can hear the front door of your shared apartment open, assuming that was Charlie coming back from wherever he ventured off to this morning. In your morning haze of nausea and headache you didn’t really catch what he had said.

“Y/N?” You hear Charlie yell as he makes his way into the apartment.

You turn your head to the side so that your voice wouldn’t be muffled by your pillow.

“In here!” You yell out as loud as you can, not wanting to bring back the pounding in your head.

As you get the words out, you see Charlie peek his head into your bedroom. He walks around the room blindly for a few seconds, since you had all the lights off and your black out curtains pulled together, not letting any light in.

He walks over to the window and pulls the curtains back enough just to let a stream of light in. He comes and sits next to your laying body on your bed. He pushes some of your hair out of your face, smiling down at you.

You return that smile back up at him. “Hi.” You whisper up at him, moving to turn over to sit up and face him.

“Hi! How are you feeling?” He asks you, his concern evident on his face. He had been worried about you these last few weeks, neither of you really knowing what was going on with your health.

“Better today, my migraines gone which is nice! My lower back cramps aren’t too bad anymore, seems like the Tylenol may finally be working!” You say answering his question.

“Well that’s good, I’m glad you’re feeling better!” He says. “What do you think has been causing all this?”

“I don’t really know! These are all things I’ve felt before!” You tell him, racking your brain trying to come up with ideas of why this could be happening. “I was thinking it could be my period, but...”

That’s when it hits you. You haven’t gotten your period yet. Being on birth control kept your period extremely regulated. Every month, you could put money down that you would get your period the second week of the month and on Tuesday morning. It happened like that for the last 2 years.

Not this month though. You hadn’t even realized it, you were so caught up in feeling like crap you hadn’t realized your period week came and passed.

“But what?” Charlie asks you, breaking you out of your now spiraling thoughts.

“I didn’t get my period this month.” You tell him plain and dry. You figured cutting to the point was the best option, especially with Charlie.

“Oh shit.” Is all that came out of Charlie’s mouth at your confession. His facial expression screaming shocked.

“Oh shit is right.” You tell him, laughing slightly at his reaction.

You were nervous and afraid, but something about Charlie and his presence kept you calm. You knew whatever happened, he would be by your side.

The big question here was, were you ready to be a mom? A kid can be a lot and you were still young. You wanted kids but did you want them now? Both yours and Charlie’s careers were just starting to take off.

The big questions overwhelming your mind, you can feel the migraine slowly making its way back.

Charlie’s still sitting next to you, watching you silently. Both of your brains filling with those questions, while you panicked, Charlie got excited.

A little human being, 50% you and 50% him, he couldn’t think of anything better. Whether it be a girl or boy, he just knew it would be the cutest baby.

Before the both of you could spiral into your thoughts anymore, you needed an answer. Both you and Charlie knew that.

“So what are we going to do?” He asks you.

“Well I think the first step is to take a test, get a real answer.” You tell him. Your hands coming up to put pressure on your temples, the new pain not subsiding.

“Good point. How about I go get the test? You go take a shower or something, I can tell your headache is coming back.” He says, his hands moving to grab yours from your face.

He moves to press a kiss to your lips, smiling in the process of it.

“Sound good?” He asks. You nod your head yes.

Before he leaves, he helps you get up out of bed and into the bathroom.

“Alright, I’ll get going. You get in there and relax.” He tells you as he moves to turn the water on.

With another quick kiss, Charlie is on his way out and to the store. Secretly hoping that it would come back positive.

The pain in your lower back starts to get worse, the pounding in your head does as well. You quickly strip and hop into the warm water. Every muscle in your body relaxes as it falls over your body.

Hot showers really are a god send in times like this. You enjoy your time in the shower, allowing the relaxation take over you. If you could keep this feeling forever you would.

But like all things, it has to end and it ends too fast in your opinion. A big cramp makes its way through your stomach, and you knew what that meant.

You hop out quick, shutting the water off. You don’t have time to wrap the towel around you before you go sit on the toilet, you make it right on time before your period finally makes its appearance.

The minute your period starts flowing, your cramps and headache ease and start to disappear. It seems that the pent-up hormones were just making you sick.

The timing of it weird and not normal, it usually doesn’t hit like that, but you guess that nothing about this month has been normal. You’re grateful now though, all your pain leaving.

I guess that was the answer we were looking for you think to yourself. You can hear Charlie open and close the front door. You clean yourself up and start to get dressed in some sweats.

“I’ll be right out Char.” You yell out to him as you finish pulling your shirt over your head.

You make your way out of the bathroom and see a smiling Charlie sitting on the edge of your bed with a white bag next to him.

“I didn’t know what test to get so I bought 3.” He says, opening the bag and showing you the three different tests. You giggle at his antics.

You move to stand in between his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking down at him, smiling.

“I just got my period, so we don’t need the test.” You tell him, running your hands through his hair that has gotten longer thanks to the months of not working.

You watch as him smile falters, his eyes dropping from your eye contact, and his hands stop the circular motion they were making on your hips.

“You okay Char?” You ask him, now concerned due to the expression on his face.

“I don’t know, I guess I was just excited about the thought of a baby.” Your shocked at his confession, not thinking that was what he was thinking this whole time.

You figured that he would have been nervous thinking that a baby wouldn’t be the best idea right now. You thought he was just staying calm so you wouldn’t panic, especially because you were feeling so sick.

A smile did make its way onto your face, you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Charlie was thinking about the two of you having a baby and being excited about it.

“You were?” You ask him, the two of you had talked about kids but not about having them soon. So as happy as you were about his confession, you were still a little shocked.

“Well yeah.” He admits. “I mean think about it, it would be a mini version of us running around.  I don’t know, I just like the sound of that.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?” You say with a smile on your face. A matching smile makes its way onto Charlie’s face. He nods his head yes in agreement.

“You don’t think we’re too young though?”  You ask, concerned for a few reasons. “Or the fact that both of our careers are just now taking off? You don’t think a baby would get in the way of that or maybe ruin it?”

Charlie can hear the concern in your voice and see the worry in your eyes. He has no doubt in his mind that none of that would be an issue, but he understands where you’re coming from.

“We may be young, but I don’t think we’re too young. I love you with my whole heart Y/N, a little version of us is all I could ask for or want!” He tells you. “Plus, while both of our careers are important, we have enough to support us and a baby. Plus we would not let a baby get in the way of our careers. We wouldn’t let it, we would figure out a way to get it to blend together in a way where it all works!”

He ends his confession on his feet and jumping around in truly Charlie fashion. His excitement contagious and so evident.

A big smile makes its way onto your face. Charlie does have a way with words and his excitement, gets you excited.

Charlie watches you as your smile gets bigger, he knows those wheels in your head are turning. He steps forward to bring you in close and wrap his arms around your waist.

“So do you wanna do this? Wanna have a baby with me?” He asks you, the biggest smile on his face.

You bite your bottom lip trying to contain the big smile on your face, while nodding your head yes.

“No, no, nooooo,” Charlie says, exaggerating the “o” on his last no, “If we’re going to do this, I am going to need a verbal confirmation.” A smirk now replaces the smile on his face.

“Yes Charlie, let’s have a baby.”

The two largest smiles covering both of your faces.

“Well let’s get started then.” He says with a laugh.

Next thing you know your feet are off the ground and your thrown onto your bed. Laughs escaping both you and Charlie.

There’s no one else you would rather be stuck with in this world than Charlie and the thought of raising a family with him felt like the world’s best gift.

[flourgirl]

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Months after you and Peter have broken up, you run into each other at Harry’s Christmas party.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Both fluffy and angsty. Mentions of alcohol and sex. A mild amount of curse words.

A/N: I’m ALIVE! I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season, and Merry Christmas to everybody that celebrates it! I am so happy to be able to share my work with all of you! Enjoy <3

“And maybe we got lost in translation Maybe I asked for too much But maybe this thing was a masterpiece Till you tore it all up” -All Too Well, Taylor Swift

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Harry had promised you that his roommate would be spending the holidays with May back in Queens. But here he was, wearing the sweater that you had given him last year with his arm snaked around another girl’s waist.

“Hey!” Betty grinned, throwing her arms around you. She had a half-empty glass of mulled wine that you could tell was doing a good job of getting her tipsy. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N. We never see each other anymore.”

She pouted, a pair of reindeer antlers where her signature black headband usually sat. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” you assured her, still staring at Peter effortlessly carrying the conversation with a bunch of people you didn’t recognize. “Uh, who’s the girl with Peter?”

“Gwen Stacy,” she muttered, obviously not a very big fan. You figured it was because there was only room for one preppy blonde girl, and Betty didn’t feel like sharing that position with anybody else. “Don’t worry though! It’s nothing serious. Peter actually hasn’t really dated anybody ever since the two of you…”

Her voice trailed off as you locked eyes with her, silently communicating for her to drop the subject. It was a relief to know that he hadn’t moved on, but the fact that he was wrapped up in a fling with somebody else still made your heart hurt.

“Come on, Y/N. I’m sure MJ and Ned would love to see you! They’re over in the kitchen.” She reached for your hand, dragging you along through Harry’s expertly decorated apartment. 

You dropped the box of cookies that you had baked on the counter before tapping MJ on the shoulder. She was turned away from you, lecturing Ned on why his secondhand Beyblades were not acceptable Christmas presents.

“Who the hell is touching me?” she snapped, turning around with a look on her face that told you she was ready to throw hands. “Holy fuck. Y/N! How long have you been here?”

MJ’s frown faded into a smile as she pulled you into a side-hug, her other hand busy nursing a glass of Harry’s infamously terrible eggnog. “Only a few minutes,” you laughed, your face smushed into her torso. 

“Hi,” Ned piped up, offering a small wave. You could tell he didn’t really know where he stood ever since his best friend basically ripped your heart out and threw it on the floor. Well, it wasn’t actually that dramatic, but he had a flair for exaggerating stories. “Remember me?”

“Of course, stupid,” you grinned, offering a fist bump that he happily accepted. “How could I forget those iconic fits of yours?”

“True,” he said, popping his collar and doing a little twirl that made Betty and MJ roll their eyes. “You look pretty fly too, though.”

“Thanks,” you replied, holding the edge of your dress as you curtsied, something you and Ned had made a habit of doing as the so-called best dressed members of the group.

“You two are just as ridiculous as ever,” Betty mused, happy to see you still fit in just as perfectly as when you were Peter’s girlfriend, even if you weren’t around as much.

The reunion was interrupted by the loud chatter of a certain couple, and your heart sank as you watched a very drunk Peter and Gwen stumble towards the kitchen, a giggling mess. They situated themselves under the archway that separated the two rooms, a piece of mistletoe conveniently hanging above them. 

You could tell that MJ was ready to put a stop to her friend’s embarrassing behavior, and the looks on Ned and Betty’s faces told you that they had no intentions of holding her back. 

“They’re so gross,” MJ complained, setting down her untouched cup before excusing herself to drag Peter out of his drunken makeout session. “I can’t believe he’d do that when you’re right here!”

“Wait, MJ,” you blurted, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her. She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “It’s okay. I don’t care about it. I’m just going to head to the bathroom, alright? I’ll be right back.”

You did your best to stop yourself from tearing up, although you realized you had made the utter mistake of forgetting that the very arch that Peter and Gwen were sucking each other’s faces under was the only way out of the kitchen.

Not even a few moments of you awkwardly standing next to them, occasionally clearing your throat, made them notice you. Eventually, the discomfort grew too heavy, and you tapped Peter on the shoulder. He finally pulled away from Gwen, her lipstick smudged across his mouth and a dazed look on his face.

Gwen whimpered at the loss of his kiss, obviously annoyed at the random girl that had just interrupted them. As soon as Peter recognized that it was you, he stepped away from her, wiping his mouth and fixing the hair she had been running her hands through, just like you used to.

“Y/N. I didn’t know that you’d be here,” he reasoned, a blush spreading across his face as a sense of regret settled into his stomach. 

“Obviously,” you sighed. This wasn’t the Peter you knew—the sweet, shy one that you had fallen in love with. “You guys are blocking the hallway, by the way.”

“Shit, sorry,” he stammered, stepping aside to allow you to pass in between them. He followed you, leaving Gwen irritated and confused as to who you were. “Y/N. Can we talk later?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nice sweater, though,” you quipped, not even turning back to meet his gaze before climbing the stairs towards the guest bathroom. Everything felt all too familiar, memories of you and Peter stumbling up the same steps after a date flooding your brain.

The first time Peter had kissed you was after MJ’s birthday party. Neither of you had been drinking, since you hated alcohol and Peter refused to touch any before he turned 21. This meant that you got to spend the whole night laughing at everybody else’s drunken mischief. 

In the middle of his performance of some Nicki Minaj song, Ned managed to spill a whole can of beer on you and Peter, which resulted in many cheers as the two of you ran to his room to grab a change of clothes. Shirts came off, confessions were made, and the party went on without you guys.

You took a deep breath, shutting the bathroom door behind you and sitting on the edge of the bathtub. If you had known Peter would end up being here, you would have never accepted Harry’s invitation. There were so many old wounds being opened up that you had spent months trying to heal, and you weren’t sure some stupid Christmas party was worth it. 

But you didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t fair how much the break up had stolen from you. All of your friends were here and you were tired of shying away from going out with them anymore because you were too scared to see Peter. Too scared that you would never be able to stop being in love with him.

By the time you rejoined the rest of your friends, Harry was announcing that it was time to start the game of White Elephant. You bit the edges of your fingernails as the party guests filed into Harry’s living room, hoping that Peter wouldn’t somehow pick your present.

“What’d you bring?” you asked Betty, squishing in next to her on the couch. 

“Gift card to In-N-Out,” she giggled, satisfied that her present could only be used on the other side of the country. “But Harry’s rich friends might not have any trouble flying their private jets to California, so maybe I’m not as clever as I thought.”

“Heard that,” Harry said, leaning behind you on the edge of the couch. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, something the two of you had always done as friends but stopped once you started dating Peter. “Hey, Y/N. Glad you could make it.”

“Hey, you,” you replied, smiling back at him, your leg bouncing impatiently. “We doing this thing or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a minute,” he laughed, running out of the room. Moments later, he came back wearing a fake beard and a Santa hat, complete with a miniature sack of toys. 

“Alright, boys and girls. Let’s get this game started! Hopefully you all know the rules, but I’ll repeat them anyway. I draw a name out of the sack, you pick a random present and open it up for everybody to see. The next person that goes can either steal your gift or pick a new one. If your gift gets stolen, you get to do the same. No stealing twice!”

The first couple of people you didn’t really know, and they had all pulled presents that were relatively uninteresting. A scented candle, toilet paper, a pair of socks. Nothing you really considered worth stealing, although Ned ended up taking a framed, autographed photo of Harry from MJ, which resulted in her stealing Gwen’s mini waffle iron.

By the time it was your turn, there weren’t many gifts left. Going with your gut, you grabbed the bag covered in glittering polar bears. Reaching past all of the tissue paper stuffed inside, you pulled out a red sweatshirt that you unfolded to see had a large graphic of Spider-Man printed on it. 

“Oh,” you said, a little confused. The only people you knew that wore stuff with the Avengers on it were little kids, but you figured that was part of the joke. “I mean, I prefer Captain America, but thanks, whoever this is from!”

Peter’s face blushed to a shade of red, amazed that out of all the presents, you picked his. The only issue was that you didn’t know that he was actually the guy on the front of it. Nobody except Ned knew, although he was sure that MJ and Harry had caught on to his secret identity by now.

“Okay, two people left. Jake, you’re up next, buddy,” Harry called out, happily bouncing around the room, his Santa hat now replaced with a baseball cap that had “I Love Ned!” embroidered on it. You watched nervously as he walked around the room, eyeing up all of the presents before settling on the tiny, golden box that you had placed under the tree when you first arrived.

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” he smirked. Your thoughts raced, immediately feeling a sense of regret over the gift you had picked. “Oh, shit. Sweet! I’ve got a date with Y/N!”

“Sup, baby,” Jake continued, his words slightly slurred. He pointed at you and winked, and you offered him a polite smile in return. “We’re gonna have a good time. Just name the time and place and I got you.”

“Awesome, congrats, man,” Harry said, obviously ready for the game to be over. It had been going for way longer than any of you had expected, mostly due to the fact that two girls wouldn’t stop arguing over a piece of rose quartz. “Okay, we’re nearly finished, guys. Peter, you’re up. Pick any of the gifts that haven’t been stolen yet, or the last one under the tree.”

You locked eyes with him, a familiar scowl on his face that told you he was thinking really hard about which gift to pick. His spidey-senses felt your heartbeat pick up as he walked around the room before stopping in front of Jake, who was busy gloating to his friend about how “hot” you were. Your face heated up as you watched Peter take the little note that you had written out of Jake’s hands, smugly gesturing for him to pick up the present under the tree.

He waved sheepishly at you, and you felt both relieved and angry at his decision. Did you want to go on that date with Jake? No. Were you still mad that, technically, you now had to go out with your ex-boyfriend? Yes.

The game ended and the party-goers dispersed throughout the apartment. You lingered in your spot on the couch, your arms crossed and heart full of mixed emotions. Peter, whose gaze never strayed from you, walked over to where you were sitting.

“We don’t actually have to go out,” he whispered, hoping that you’d actually look at him this time. “I just didn’t think you wanted to go out with that guy. He seemed like kind of an asshole.”

“Yeah, well, it would have been nice if you let me decide that. You’re not my boyfriend, anymore Peter. We aren’t even friends. You don’t get a say in who I go out on dates with,” you grumbled, your eyes focusing on everything in the room except for him.

Before you could say anything else, Peter had already grabbed you by the hand, dragging you away from the rest of the party. Strangely enough, you went along with it, a little curious to hear him out.

You started to remember your first date, and it was almost like you could hear his excited laughter after you finally managed to knock a pin down. It became a tradition that whenever you had something to celebrate, Peter would pick you up and twirl you around until you had to beg him to stop.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Peter slamming the door behind him and cornering you against it, his heartbeat racing. He had pulled you into the laundry room. “I can’t stand seeing you with anybody else,” he panted, eyes flickering down towards your mouth.

His hand pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and your breath hitched as you felt his rough fingertips against your skin. But before he could lean in to kiss you, you were ducking underneath his arm and backing away.

“Peter, we really shouldn’t,” you whispered, watching the disappointment wash over his face. No matter how much you wanted to kiss him, you just couldn't forget how he had broken your heart months ago. “It’s over, okay?”

“Y/N, please. I—”

“You what? You love me? Because last time we were together, I told you how much I loved you and you said that we should break up. Remember?” you cried, embarrassed at how you couldn’t control your emotions anymore. “You’re just… you’re too late.”

You fumbled with the door, slipping through the opening before rushing towards the balcony. As soon as the cold air hit you, a wave of relief washed over your body, and you laid your head against the metal railing. Your breathing slowed and time seemed to stand still as you watched the snowflakes flutter through the wind.

“Peter’s an idiot,” you heard a voice call out from behind you. You turned to see Harry holding an extra coat in his arms, and you started to wonder just how long you had been standing out there. He draped it over your shoulders before leaning next to you against the balcony’s edge.

“Huh?” you asked, wondering if he knew what had just happened. You looked at him, the multicolored Christmas lights reflecting off his shiny hair. “What do you mean?”

“He’s stupid for ever letting you go,” he remarked. He had a look in his eyes that made you unsure of what he actually meant. “I mean, look at you. You’re so beautiful, and smart, and funny. And if he was dumb enough to throw all of that away, then yeah, Peter’s an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess,” you shrugged, your voice faint under the music that was still playing inside. You looked at him, his cheeks a rosy hue, which you couldn’t tell was from the cold or whatever he was trying to tell you.

“You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you,” Harry admitted, laughing a little bit at how nervous he was. Everybody knew that he was a player, so being flustered over a girl was uncharted territory for him. “I never told you this, but you were my first kiss.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, a little shocked at his confession. “But I thought you kissed Sarah Emerson on the playground in the fifth grade?”

“Nope. I was just a liar,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. “It was right before our eighth grade formal, when you asked me to teach you how to kiss because you were scared that Jeremy Pellegrino was going to try and french you.

“Oh! I forgot all about that,” you laughed, suddenly remembering just how long you and Harry had been friends. “Hold on a second... You gave me kissing lessons without knowing how to kiss!?”

“Guilty,” Harry chuckled as you punched him on the arm. “Ow! Damn, Y/N. When did you get so strong?”

“I have a lot of rage,” you mumbled before the two of you burst out into laughter, which slowly faded into a comfortable silence. 

“You don’t feel that way anymore, right?” you wondered out loud. Harry looked at you, smiling softly.

“No, not anymore,” he affirmed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You knew what it felt like to love someone and not be loved back. “I think what really helped me get over it was seeing how happy you and Parker were when you were dating.” 

“He misses you a lot,” Harry continued, his tone more serious than before. “He keeps this scarf that you left behind under his pillow because it still smells like you. I found out because he was having a pretty bad dream one night and I had to try really hard to calm him back down. And we both thought Gwen would help him move on and get his mind off of you, but I think she only made him realize just how much he still loves you—”

“Harry,” you interrupted, cutting his rambles short. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you and Peter should be together.”

“You think so?” you asked him, pulling the jacket tighter to keep you warm.

“Yeah. We all do.” It took only seconds for Harry to realize his fumble, accidentally admitting that the whole thing had been planned by him and your friends.

“We?” Your frowned, all of the coincidences from tonight suddenly making much more sense. “Wait, did you know that Peter was going to be here tonight all along?”

“Uh… yeah, about that. MJ, Ned, and I have kind of been pulling a Parent Trap on you guys.”

“HARRY!” You glared inside to see them not-so-secretly watching the entire exchange from behind the Christmas tree. Ned did some awkward finger guns, which MJ immediately swatted down. “I am so going to get you guys!”

You marched inside to where your friends were attempting to hide, the rest of the party guests too drunk and oblivious to notice what was happening. 

“The eagle has left the nest. I repeat, The eagle has left the nest!” Ned yelled, ducking behind MJ, who was already shielding herself with a throw pillow.

“What’s going on?” Betty whined, half-asleep on the couch. “Is this that stupid plan about Peter and Y/N?”

“It’s not stupid!” Harry grumbled, his voice cracking a little bit. You could hear MJ snorting about it from her hiding spot. “Whatever, Michelle.”

“Shut up!” she shouted back.

“No, you!” he said, crossing his arms and standing his ground.

“Make me,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes and shooting daggers at him.

“Uh, guys. This isn’t about you two,” Ned interrupted, snapping them out of their mini argument. There was a weird tension between them that you just knew you would have to address some time in the future.

“Right,” MJ continued, sticking a middle finger up at Harry before turning to you. “Y/N. You should go talk to Peter.”

You nodded, exchanging hopeful looks with each of your friends before walking away. They might be dramatic goofballs, but you loved them so much that you didn’t really care.

Wandering around the party, you spotted Peter trapped in a conversation with Brad Davis, who was explaining his conspiracy theories about the Denver Airport and its demonic horse statue.

“So, all I’m saying is that they’re totally planning the end of the world over there. I mean, the Freemasons built an entire bunker for when they activate the nukes!” he rambled, Peter politely nodding along to his nonsense.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Brad on the shoulder and batting your eyelashes at him. “Can I borrow Peter?”

“Uh, yeah, totally, Y/N,” he stuttered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smirk. You could smell the peppermint Schnapps on his breath.

“Great. Thanks, Brad!” you smiled, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him towards the staircase. By the time you made it to his bedroom, he had already asked what was going on about ten times.

“Why’d you dump me?” you asked, the two of you sitting together on the edge of his bed, your knee brushing against his. He could tell you were wasting no time in getting to the point. “Be honest.”

He stared at the floor, unsure of how to answer your question. You reached for his hand, running your thumb across his knuckles until he looked up to see you smiling at him. His eyes were starting to water. “Just tell me, Peter. It’s okay.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was scared of how much I love you. I mean, Liz was just a crush, and Gwen was a hookup. I’ve only ever loved you, Y/N. Before we met, I had to watch May’s heart break day after day when we lost Uncle Ben, and when I realized how much I loved you... I just wasn’t sure if I could handle ever losing you like that. And so I felt like I needed to protect you from all of the people who would want to hurt you.”

“Hey, Peter. Calm down. I’m right here,” you whispered, wiping a tear from his face. You watched as his breathing slowed, eventually evening out. “Why would anybody want to hurt me?”

“Because…” he started, hesitating a little bit. “Because I’m Spider-Man.”

Your eyes grew big as you mulled over what he had just said. “Are you being serious right now?”

He nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to his closet, digging around through piles of clothes before he found what he was looking for.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out. Peter was holding up Spider-Man’s suit. His suit. The sweatshirt from earlier made a lot more sense now.

“I would never lie to you,” he said, folding it up and sitting back down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought I was doing the right thing—that you’d be safe—but I was so stupid. I, uh, I think about you all the time. I worry whether you’ve gotten home alright and how your little brother’s doing and if your mom got the promotion that she wanted and—”

You cut him off with a kiss, something you had been dying to do ever since you shut his bedroom door. “I forgive you,” you sighed, gently playing with his hair.

Peter stared back at you, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Does this mean that we’re back together?”

“Yep,” you confirmed, before leaning into another kiss. And another. And another.

“Wait,” Peter said, breaking away from you. “I have a present for you. It’s actually from when we first started dating, but I was waiting until Christmas to give it to you.”

He moved to his desk, digging through one of the drawers before pulling out a flash drive. “Here it is,” he smiled, dropping it into your hand. It had your name scribbled on it next to a cat sticker. “It’s a playlist. Of all the songs that make me think of you. I think it’s got around a hundred on there?”

“Wow,” you beamed, marveling at the little piece of plastic in your hand. “You’re making me look bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Not true. You owe me a date, remember?” he reminded you, wiggling his eyebrows and pulling you into his lap.

“You’re right. Let me think,” you hummed, running through all the ideas of what the two of you could do. “Oh! I got it. The Central Park Squirrel Census for this year just got released. What if we analyzed the data? You could do the wrangling and I could do the visualizations!”

“I love you so much,” he laughed, pressing a kiss onto the tip of your nose. You giggled as Peter buried his face into your shoulder, his grip around your waist tightening. “But you are such a nerd.”

“I’m your nerd, Parker,” you agreed, leaning further into his embrace. “Always have been and always will be.”

—————-

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[simpingforsoftboys]

Love Me, Love Me Not

ft. Kuroken

G/N Reader

TW: Insecurities... I think that’s it?

Read This First

Mini Series Here

Okay part 2/4 for the continuation of “Toxic Things They Do” request. This is probably the hardest one for me because I’m better at writing Kuroken x reader on a platonic level aha. Not proofread because your girl is a slacker-

You’re sitting on the floor of your living room, staring at the tv while Kenma plays on the new PS5 he bought. He’s seated in Tetsuro’s lap, the dark haired male is busy yapping his ear off- to which Kenma lets out small hums of acknowledgement every once in a while to show he’s listening. You want to join them up there, somehow the couch seems so far away from you. Like a pillar high in the sky- only serving to show off what you can’t ever really have. It seems a little dramatic to be thinking that way, sure, but you have a valid reason to put it in such a manner. You know, since you’re allergic to leather and all.

Tetsuro was always so caring, constantly doting on the ones he loves. With his trashy puns, troublesome smirk, and sparkling eyes that promised a good time, he was perhaps the ideal man. He gave his all for those he cared for, seemingly nothing about him was selfish... and yet the leather couch had been Tetsuro’s idea- he had always been fond of the material after all. Even when you brought up the whole issue of you being allergic to it- he still insisted that they purchase a leather sofa. 

“We’ll just buy you a separate arm chair or something.” Kenma had said after listening to the both of you argue back and forth. “It’s not like we don’t have the money.” It hurt more looking back on it now than it did at the time. It was an unreasonable solution, but it wasn’t like Kenma was going to disagree with Kuroo. He never did. At least when it came to you that is.

You continue staring at them. There’s something about the way that Tetsuro gazes at Kenma that just screams love and contentment. He’s never looked at you that way- even back when you were in denial you knew that much. Kenma never had to do what you would need to in order to keep his attention on him. All Kenma needed to do was exist- unlike you- he never had to earn dear Kuroo’s love. 

Tetsuro only doted on those he loved. He loved Kenma. And he only seemed to love you when Kenma wasn’t around.

“Y/n...” The messy haired male called, long arms winding around your torso. “Let’s go to the arcade! I made some reservations- we have the whole place to ourselves for a few hours.” 

You remember being excited at the time- finally you would get to go on a date with Tetsuro. It had been so long since your last one. 

“Really? That’s awesome! Let me just get dressed.” You slipped into a pair of jeans and a band t-shirt before hurrying to meet Kuroo at the door. “Tetsu I’m-”

“I can’t believe you got called in so last minute. It’s too late to cancel the reservations already kitten.” Kuroo whines into the phone, obviously talking to Kenma. “Yeah I’m just bringing Y/n, no point in wasting money... oh? Okay see you later. Love you kitten~”

Needless to say, your day seemed a lot less exciting after overhearing that conversation.

Kuroo gently nudged the smaller male aside, standing up to go use the restroom. The two of you made eye contact briefly, he winked playfully before continuing on his way to the bathroom. Your gaze fell upon Kenma- who was still rapidly pushing buttons and triggers on his controller. 

Kenma had always been elusive. It was one of the things that drew you into him. He looked so uncaring about everything, at first you couldn’t even have imagined that he would be so attentive to every detail. Was it a trait he had gained from Tetsuro or vice versa? People do say lovers begin sharing habits over time. At first you could barely distinguish one of his expressions from another, but as you spent more time in his company you found much more than you could have hoped. You discovered that he was constantly changing, learning to be more expressive. Each time you thought you had him figured out- he had already developed beyond that.

The minuscule way his lips would upturn when he was amused soon changed into a hidden smile, chuckles threatening to escape his throat. Then that changed to a slightly wider one, showing the smallest amount of his teeth. Eventually he learned to forgo his embarrassment entirely- and he would laugh freely, all teeth, heart, and soul, in it. Yes, Kenma was a constantly evolving individual- like the ever changing maze in the maze runner. There was seemingly no escape to him- just twists and turns and dead ends. He was impossibly deep- a promise of a myriad of mysteries within his eyes. 

But you were just another runner- doomed to be lost in the maze- but never to escape it. Kuroo on the other hand was something else. He was on a completely different level- skilled in his knowledge of Kenma- able to come and go as he pleased. You doubted he’d ever wanted to escape. Neither did you- at first. 

Out of the two of them, Kenma had always been more receptive of you. It had surprised even Kuroo himself actually. You didn’t doubt Kenma’s love for you- not like you doubted Tetsuro’s- but you also knew that he’d never care for you as much as he did Kuroo. It showed in the little things.

“Y/n did you want to play with me?” Kenma’s soft voice carried over where you were- snuggled up in blankets, playing Animal Crossing while sitting in your arm chair. He had his own red and blue Switch in his hands. Kuroo had been home at the time, you recall hearing him snoring away in your bedroom. “It’s been awhile since it was just us.”

You smiled at his words and agreed. The two of you visiting each others islands and irritating your beloved villagers. It was fun, spending time with Kenma, and you could tell that he was enjoying himself- and not just because of the game. He would shoot you shy, soft smiles when he thought you weren’t looking. It was those smiles that really kept you clinging onto the sinking ship that was your relationship. 

Kenma loved you.

The smiles directed towards Kuroo were different. They weren’t shy- instead they were familiar and open. Kenma had known Kuroo far longer than he had you. The comfort he took in him was of an entirely separate magnitude. Naturally, this was the same with the amount of love he held for him too. 

He looked happier with Kuroo than he did with you.

Maybe it’s because of that fact that you decided to break the news to Kenma first. Making sure that your skin was covered with you long sleeves, pants, and socks, you made your way over to where Kenma was seated. His eyes tore away from the screen to stare at you worriedly. 

“Y/n your allergies-” He began.

“It’s fine, as long as my bare skin doesn’t touch the leather.” You reply, sitting beside him. You know you shouldn’t- not when you’re about to say this- but you yank him into a hug anyways. You hug Kenma tight and hard, because he’s the only one in this relationship that might even love you a sliver as much as you love him. He tries to turn, so that he can embrace you too- but you won’t let him, opting to pin his arms down with your own. It’ll hurt too much to do this if you let him hold you. 

“Y/n what’s wrong?” He asks and he looks at you like you’re the only one in the world for that moment. Bitterly, you wonder if this is what it feels like to be in Kuroo’s shoes. Yet again, you are reminded that while this is a rare sensation for you- it’s a daily occurrence between the two of them- looking at each other like they hung the stars up in the sky- that is. 

“I have to tell you something Kenma.” You murmur, licking your lips. “But first I’m going to let you go, right after I try to memorize what you feel like against me. And you have to promise not to try to hug me after that okay?” 

“W-why? What’s wrong Y/n?” He struggles again, fear overtaking his heart at your words. “What is it?”

“J-just promise me. You can be mad, you can cry, hell you can even laugh afterwards. But don’t try to reach out and hug me okay?” He’s never seen you so serious, so he nods his head. 

“I promise.” He agrees and stops fighting against you. You do your best to memorize this- the feeling of him in your arms. He’s warm and despite his lithe figure he’s firm against you. His hair is smooth and soft- since you had managed to drill into him how important hair maintenance was- it smells like his pricey conditioner. You rest your cheek against his for a long moment, before forcing yourself to pull away from him entirely. The half blonde abides by his promise, but it’s clear that he wants to reach out to you.

“This is going to hurt me a lot more than it’s going to hurt you.”

“What are you saying?” Kenma’s anxious now, eyes searching for answers in your own pools of e/c. 

“But you have Tetsuro... I don’t know how he’ll feel about this- but he’ll probably be furious with me.” You continue, heavy tears slipping from your tear ducts. “I don’t think this is working out Kenma-”

“What did I do?” He asks, wide eyed and desperate- you can hear the pain in his tone. “Did you fall out of love with me- with us?” The angel and devil perched on your shoulders agree that you should lie to him- tell him ‘yes, I did fall out of love with you.’ The angel says it’s better to do it this way, to spare him the pain of knowing what you went through. While the devil thinks you should say it in the most vicious way possible- to give back all the pain, the unworthiness they made you experience. But you refuse to listen, no one deserves to suffer through your insecurities.

“I’m still in love with you two.”

There’s tears spilling from both of your eyes now.

“Then why-”

“It’s because I’m not content anymore.” It’s not the full truth but it’s better than a lie right? You forgot that a half truth is a whole lie. 

“I think we deserve the truth.” Kuroo says from the entrance of the living room, he’s leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. “Not some half assed explanations.” 

“Right...” You agree, blinking back your tears. “I’m so grateful for you two. Tetsuro you’re so caring and selfless, you give your heart in everything you do- I’d be lying to say that I’m over you. Kenma you’ve always been so attentive and I won’t lie- something about you just makes me want to appreciate you endlessly. But babes, you’ve been in love for so long- I can’t possibly catch up.” 

Kuroo’s expression is shocked, not expecting this. “Y/n-”

“No, please listen.” You ask of him- just this once- to listen to you. Luckily for you he does. Kenma looks like he wants to speak up too, but swallows his words. It’s the first time they’ve let you get a word in without getting defensive. Kinda poetic if you think about it. Your last 'argument’ as a throuple and the first time they’ve been able to let you say your piece.

“Tetsu, it’s clear Kenma’s your first and foremost priority. I don’t even know if what we have is love or admiration- but it’s not what I’m looking for.” You give him a sad smile and he discovers that it’s the most genuine one he’s seen from you.

“Y/n I-” He tries, only to get an impatient look from both you and Kenma. “Sorry, continue.”

“I’m a hypocrite to say this- but Kenma... this is harder to say because I’ve grown more attached to you overtime.” You hate yourself for what you’re about to say next- the hypocrisy you’re about to spew is enough to render your feelings null and void... or so you believe. “I never doubted with you- what we had... have... it’s definitely love.” 

Kenma looks ugly, his face is all scrunched up and theres snot and tears dripping down onto his lap. “It always was- still is Y/n.”

“I know baby.” You whisper back, it pains you to see him like this. “But you’re still more in love with Tetsu.” He can’t deny it either, that’s what pains him the most. “I love the both of you though. So I really do wish you the best. It’s the only thing I can do- because I can’t stay here and hold you back.”

Something inside of Kuroo’s heart cracks and he finds himself tearing up at your words. It hurts because you’re right. He doesn’t love you like that- or at least he doesn’t think so. But if that’s the case then it doesn’t make sense as to why he’s hurting. 

“I’m sorry that I had to be the one to call it quits- because I never, ever, wanted to be the one to do that. But guys-” Your voice cracks, it embodies all the heart ache you’re feeling- been feeling for so long. “When it’s just you two, at the altar, finally becoming one... I’ll be able to say with good faith that I made the right decision. So don’t fight me, don’t even say anything- this is what I want. This isn’t for just you- it’s for me too.”

They nod, facing the consequences of your choice- maybe it goes further than that. Maybe all this time the three of you were doomed to fail. If that’s the case then it’s a blessing that you’re not going down in flames. Instead this chapter is ending with a flood of tears and the promise of ruin. But there’s also the underlying hope that one day the flood will dry up and they’ll finally be able to look at the ruins without feeling regret. It’s that hope that all three of you cling too. That hope that one day you’ll be able to rebuild upon the ruins- a new temple, new kingdom. A new place for a rebuilt- or maybe even entirely new- love. 

A/N: I did Kuroo so dirty but I’m not sorry about that. In all honesty this is how I feel it’d go in a situation like this. Kuroo’s priority is always going to be Kenma. He’s a chemistry nerd- and their shared chemistry is so deep, it’s engrained onto the face of their soul. I think Kenma does really love Y/n but he’ll always love Kuroo just a little more. But sometimes a little is all the difference and is the game changer in the end. I do think, that if Kenma had loved the two of them equally- then maybe they could have been fine with a polygamous dynamic- but sadly that’s not the case.

This is also the harsh reality to a lot of poly relationships- some people enter them but aren’t prepared to love equally. So there’s an imbalance there that really shouldn’t be there. A lot of authors who write for polyships don’t touch on this but I want to be here to write about the good and the bad. 

Seeing the reader after the breakup

[evakuality]

Mia, episode five

1.  One thing Druck is super good at is these aesthetic shots.  This whole opening bit reminds me of the scene with Amira when she’s praying in her room.  Lots of beautiful shots of the room, curtains and stuff, which are just super pretty with a few hints of colour.  I dunno, this is just an aesthetic I like and I appreciate that Druck caters to me.  Mia is so cute, too!  Like both the way she looks and also how kind she is.  She still doesn’t really like Alex a lot (though you could see in that montage from the previous night that she’s warming up to him) but she still feels like she should leave things looking nice.  These little post-it notes are sort of cute too, and you can see that she thinks they’re sweet.  I don’t like this Bjorn though.

2.  Interesting that we get a clip specifically one week later.  I have no idea how that must have felt while this was live, and I’m really glad that I didn’t have to live through these long gaps in any of the things I did watch in real time.  This one was reasonably low key though, so maybe the wait wasn’t as agonising.  If you didn’t know who Bjorn is (I’m assuming the Niko character) then nothing in the last couple of clips would have felt all that alarming.  But Mia’s so flirty here - that one conversation at his house must have really charmed her.  Pity we didn’t really get to hear a lot of it because he still hasn’t charmed me!!  And actually that ‘show a montage of how things are going while a song and/or other conversation plays overtop’ is a huge thing Druck does, I think.  I feel like in some cases (Matteo and David after their first pool kiss moment, for example, or Hanna and Jonas breaking up) work quite well.  But here, I think we needed to hear more of Alex to actually believe that Mia would be this flirty with him.  For me, this is too big a turnaround from her very cold manner with him at the piano and an actual proper look at that conversation might have helped.  But also, I am super biased because William and so maybe a more reasonable person might like it okay.  This bit with Linn is weird.  Genuinely creepy, and I’m not sure why they’re setting her up to feel like this.  Maybe some sort of hint of the creepiness to come with Bjorn (I’m assuming it’s coming, anyway).

3.  I don’t get this bit with all the pictures at the school.  I assume it will become obvious later but I’m not sure what exactly they were trying to do with this.  You’d think they run the risk of having the whole Abi chaker clan thing shut down - if this happened in my school there’d be so much trouble.  A groups of kids once put post-its all over one teacher’s room and they got in SO much trouble for it, and that wasn’t obscene like this is.  This thing here seems so targeted at the Abi thing, using their plan specifically, that it feels like someone outside the group wants them not to be allowed to run their theme.  Or someone in the group who wants a different motto maybe.  I don’t know, but it feels very mean and very specifically directed at this group of people.

4.  Hmmm, I’m with Leonie on this one.  I’d be giving Carlos the super evil stare too.  It may be ‘funny’ to some of these people, but given that there are younger kids at this school (I assume, right?  They still have classes running for the smaller ones at the end of Matteo’s season, allowing their prank to go ahead) this is sure to go down really badly with the school itself.  I’m rolling my eyes at the ones who are outraged that the school is considering reporting it - what did they expect?  Also, surely they can figure out who was doing it - people were literally throwing handfuls of the pictures over the stairs.  Surely they could work out who it is.  It’s pretty clear that Alex still thinks this is funny and I’m losing patience with him.  Every time it seems like maybe he’s getting less gross he goes and acts like this again.  Bleh.  I’m not often rooting for Leonie and feeling for her, but wow today I really am.  This is shitty and she has a right to be angry.

5.  Ew, Alex, why are you stalking Mia again?  She’s made it pretty clear she’s not happy with you.  Turning up out of the blue like a creep isn’t a good way to go about winning her over again.  His ‘we were drunk, what can you do?’ is so... stupid???  They’ve lost money from this, the school is really angry, they could easily have some pretty bad consequences and he’s all ‘meh, it was a drunken prank’?  I know money isn’t an issue for him, but there are issues here beyond the money.  I’m also kind of annoyed that everyone keeps suggesting she’s upset because she’s jealous.  I’ll be really annoyed if the show carries on this way - this isn’t just a silly little prank, and people have every right to be angry and annoyed.  Diminishing it to jealousy isn’t cool.  Is Leonie also jealous?  The people who are angry and upset they’re being blamed and their money has been taken?

6.  I do love scenes where the whole girl squad is together.  They make me happy and I miss seeing them together so much.  But OMG, Alex is blackmailing Mia again????  I mean I guess it worked the first time so why wouldn’t he?  But this is seriously shitty behaviour.  Honestly, in clip one I was mildly starting to warm to him with the post-its and all, but he’s managed to speed run right back into ‘asshole’ category.  This was the problem in the og as well - William was such an asshole, that in order to make him likeable, we had to see a much more genuinely villainous character.  Alex is still super dislikeable and so we need someone ‘worse’ to make him look palatable, which I assume is coming.  We’re halfway through - we should like him by now.  I dunno.  Maybe some people do?  But he still has done nothing to make me think he’s nice or someone who Mia might be attracted to.

7.  Oh a long Friday clip?  Almost half the episode?  I guess it’s going to be a rough one for Mia then.  More reflections again - her whole face in the mirror now, but it’s surrounded by graffiti.  I’m always fascinated by the way mirrors and reflections work, and it’s fun to see Mia slightly obscured in her mirrors even now.  It’s not as disjointed as it was at the start but it’s not a fully clear reflection either.  I may not like the way Noora/Mia’s story goes but I do like some of these things which show the progress.

8.  I feel kind of sorry for Jonas, because that break up wasn’t his choice.  But seriously, he seems to be blaming this on Hanna a bit and like ????? He chose to make her feel small and unworthy through her whole season.  She’s allowed to try to figure herself out outside of him and his wants and needs.  Eh, I know he’s hurting and all, but that’s actually his issue and he shouldn’t be pushing it on her.

9.  This scene with Mia and Alex bothers me.  He still seems to have no idea why she might find his actions (selfish and self-serving and filled with blackmail) offputting.  ‘I fixed it, so we should totally be together now’ is such an immature and childish take on this.  These types of guys need to grow up and learn that they can’t just buy and/or coerce their way into whatever they want.  I like the way they decide to have Kiki walk past just as Mia has to choose whether to say she doesn’t want Alex or not.  It adds a poignancy to it and Mia obviously chooses to stick by her friends.  I do wish it felt more conflicting, like if Alex genuinely had changed or had shown he has depth or something it would be a bigger ‘wow she’s rejecting him for her friend’ but instead he’s still such an unpleasant character that I don’t care.

10.  I’m not sure why Mia does the brushing off of the makeup - I feel like it made more sense when Noora did it (I mean I watched it once a very long time ago so who knows, but my memory is that it was her way of trying to reject being ‘pretty’ and having guys liking her because it was messing her up).  With Mia, I don’t understand.  Someone help me out?

11.  I still don’t get what Mia sees in Alex.  Again, I know I have a really big bias against him because of William and I know it was always going to be tough for him to be someone I care about.  But even so, this feels like a huge whiplash when she says of course she likes him.  I’d get it if we’d seen any of his development, but every time he took a mini step forward he shoved himself right back into dislikeable territory.  Once again, I mourn the actual conversation between Mia and Alex.  This all feels far too fast, and the fact that this is suggesting his blackmail is all good is very worrying.  All the post-it notes in the world can’t make me think he’s nice enough to want to kiss.

Overall, I didn’t really like this one.  I feel like the pacing is still off; I don’t believe the speed at which Mia has fallen for him and honestly it hasn’t been very long since Kiki was with Alex and had her heart broken.  The fact that Mia even saw her and told him she doesn’t like him only to turn around immediately and change her mind is strange to me.  Mia has always come across as a caring person who tries to do the right thing and help out her friends.  That she has apparently no qualms at this point is difficult for me.  They’re acting the hell out of this, but I can’t buy it.  Unfortunately.  Sadly, because this is based on a very flawed original, I don’t think it’s going to make me enjoy these two.  There are things that I’m interested in seeing as we go forward but most of those have zero to do with Alex.

[missmorosis]

here’s our bus route map for my bus ride! (masterlist!)

here’s the original event post :)

HI EVERYONE!! i just wanted to thank you all for your participation BECAUSE AAAAAA YOU GUYS DELIVERED AND UGH I WAS LITERALLY SO WORRIED NOBODY WAS GONNA WRITE ANYTHING BUTSJFLKFASDF

ALL OF YOU ARE SO TALENTED OKAY??? LIKE BYE I WAS BLOWN AWAY

I WAS SO EXCITED FOR THIS EVENT HEHEHE I LOVE ALL OF YOU SO SO MUCH!! AND THE FACT THAT YOU SPENT TIME ON THIS EVENT 😭😭MWAH MWAHH

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR 400!! MUCH LOVE AND HUGS AND KISSES :D

ALSO SORRY AHHA THIS WAS POSTED SO LATE

WE IGNORE HOW IT’S PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO GET FROM LA TO LONDON VIA BUS JKDFJKFJK

here’s how i formatted it!

title- author’s @!

pairing genre warnings word count their summary that they made

-> my review!

let’s take a look at our map...

starting from LA, heading to bilbao! we’ll stop along the bus stops on our way! 

and yes im aware that the route is going in a weird, illogical way if bilbao is our last stop, shush i wasnt thinking when i made bilbao our last city KJDFJKS

masterlist under the cut!!

now arriving at... los angeles, California!

-> write an AU!! the AU can be literally anything: royalty AU? road trip AU? GO FOR IT!! just as long as it’s not in the canon era hehehe

first stop... “something only the stars know” - @luvoratomi​ 

pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader genre: secret relationship au, royal au, crown prince!suna, knight!reader, established relationship, fluff, angst  word count: 544 their summary: in which you and crown prince, suna rintarou, find comfort in each other’s arms underneath the moonlight, where only the stars are witnesses of your love.

-> my review: um. nayru. OKAY IM CONSTANTLY BLOWN AWAY BY YOUR TALENT AND THIS IS NO EXCEPTION. i dont even KNOW who rintarou is but im in love with him. ALSO I DONT THINK IVE EVER READ A ROYAL AU BUT KLASDFJ THIS WAS SO?? WELL?? WRITTEN?? ive reread it at LEAST 5 times.   

next stop... an untitled zombie au from @eunoianthia

pairing: yamaguchi tadashi x female!reader genre: zombie au, angst :) warnings: a lot of angst, death, a bit of gore? word count: 1.1k their summary: going to Los Angeles was a dream, and you were finally achieving it. It’s like a dream come true, going to Los Angeles and your boyfriend tagging along? What could go wrong?

-> my review: OKAY WAIT THIS IS THE FIRST ZOMBIE AU IVE EVER READ. like EVER. AND WHAT I DIDNT EXPECT IT TO HURT THIS MUCH. i- the ending- PLEASE I- i dont even know what to say. how COULD YOU.

now arriving at... 3:38 am from @arquitecturadelanada​​

pairing: zuko x fem!reader genre: roommates au, i would say fluff! warnings: none! word count: 1.1k their summary: As sokka’s best man zuko has to write a heartfelt speech for the wedding day, the only issue? he doesn’t believe in love, but maybe his roommate can change his perception on the matter.

-> my review: so youre saying this whole time youve been supporting my writing when YOU WRITE BETTER THAN I DO?? ugh you’re so talented this isn’t funny, and this fic ALMOST MAKES ME WANT TO BECOME AN ATLA BLOG AGAIN BAHHA- “he noticed he was considerably less stressed just by hearing his roommate’s voice” IM GONNA CRY​​

last stop... “what are the odds” from @hikariakaashi​ 

pairing: kuroo x fem!reader genre: roommates au, i would say fluff! warnings: none! word count: 3.2k their summary: it was an act of desperation, to say the least, downloading the app lev recommended for him. but he was in dire need of a wedding date. so when kuroo opened up the brightly colored app titled rent a girlfriend, he knew he was in for an interesting evening.

-> my review: so uh 1) i remember writing a review for this and i have no idea where it went IM SO SORRY DSKJFJ and 2) i would do anything for kuroo to be my bf even if it was just my job 😩😩 and 3) um ??? YOURE SO TALENTED?? MISS MA’AM??

now arriving at... london, england!

-> breakup fic time </3 you can make it an angsty breakup, or a fluffy exes to lovers!

first stop... “i love(d) you”- @floralkawa​

pairing: tsukishima x reader! genre: angst! warnings: none! word count: 300 their summary: one where tsukishima never showed his love. making it onesided, leading poor f/n on in a bitter relationship. of course, no one can handle it forever, can they ?

-> my review: this is the reason why i dont like angst. i felt this IN MY HEART, OKAY? NOELLE YOU LIED & SAID YOU COULDN’T WRITE FEELINGS. i hate it I HATE IT I HATE IT. but ugh youre talented enough to pull anything off and your angst is PROBABLY the only ones ill read willingly :( 

next stop... “i should have seen the signs”- @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner

pairing: oikawa x reader! genre: angst! warnings: none! word count: 2k their summary: going to the city of love and london was supposed to be an exhilarating vacation after a long week of exams. as it seems, love is fake and so is toru oikawa.

-> my review: um. this kinda hurted me tho. how am i even allowed to be friends with you like ?? miss ma’am? YOURE SO TALENTED??? i hate angst and ill say it again: I HATE ANGST. IT HURTS IT HUUUURRTSS. OIKAWA MY BABY WOULD NEVER DO THAT BUT HE DID. I CANSTEALK I CANT DEAL WITH THIS 

now arriving at... berlin, germany!

first stop... “Spring Chills”- @wesokkasimp

pairing: oikawa x reader! genre: fluff! warnings: none! word count: 447 their summary: you and Oikawa go for a walk on a chilly spring day. beware: banter ahead

-> my review: 😐😑😐 my heart wasn’t prepared for this. AND!! I BET Y/N LOOKED GREAT IN THAT TANK TOP; OIKAWA BETTER HAVE GIVEN HIS JACKET TO HER AFTERWARDS. jacket + tank top = cute outfit smh

next up... “warm and fuzzy”- @oikawaplssteponme​

pairing: kuroo x reader! genre:  fluff, a hint of angst, childhood friends to lovers, ‘boy next door’ warnings: one swear word, kuroo calls the reader ‘pretty’ however no gender pronouns are used, mini make out word count: 1.4k their summary: n/a but a quote: "The lights in your room were dim. Their golden-yellow tone shone above you, though you paid little attention to what was going on inside your room. You were much more interested in what was happening outside.”

-> my review: wait this actually reminds me of me and my front door neighbor GOODBYE AKLSJDF I MISS HIM :( ANYWAYS BAHHAHA- see you never miss 😐 i think awkward tetsu is underrated BYEALKSF THIS WAS SO CUTE I CANTASEKL

last stop... “ice cold”- @kyotarou​

pairing: tsukishima x reader genre:  fluff! warnings: bit of fanon tsukki, mutual pining, smidge of angst, fluff word count: 700+ their summary: n/a but a quote: “Asshole was the best word to describe Tsukishima Kei. He was an asshole to his peers, and it didn’t change towards you, his best friend.”

-> my review: mY TSUKISHIMA HEART OMG- okay OKAY I THOUGHT I GREW OUT OF MY LOVE FOR HIM BUT ITS ALL COMING BACK ASLKJFDL- oh to share a jacket and be vulnerable with tsukishima ✋😩 once again bestie youre so talented it isnt funny

now arriving at... bilbao, spain!

our only stop in this city... "break-in”- @kohi-zeri​​

pairing: iwazumi x reader! genre:  fluff!! warnings: mentions of food and common illnesses, use of “darling” and “brat” word count: 1.4k their summary: n/a but a quote: “there’s something so… infuriating about having a migraine. especially when it’s uncalled for.”

-> my review: i cant express to you how much i love sickfics. like JLSDFLJKFSALJ SADFL I CANT- ALSO I READ THIS FOR THE FIRST TIME WHEN I HAD THE WORST HEADACHE SO WHENEVER MY HEAD HURTS I COME REREAD THIS BAHAHHA-

here’s what some of our passengers are saying...

one passenger says “Wait. Stand right there, I want to take a picture of you.”

“pretty petals, pretty pictures”- @shxyo-sho​​​

pairing: iwazumi x reader! genre: fluff, mutual pining, just two best friends crushing on each other warnings: none! word count: 590 their summary: If you could describe your best friend, Kiyoko, in one word; what would it be? I would pick the word, flawless.

-> my review: repeat after me: kiyoko is a queen. and YOU DO HER JUSTICE I ASFDLKJ PLEASE- in all honesty i would be blushing if kiyoko said a word to me too- y/n you arent alone ✋😩

another passenger asks “Why aren’t you asleep?”

"night owl”- @atlabeth​​​​

pairing: sokka x reader! genre: fluff! warnings: stress over school and one (1) curse, but other than that it’s pure fluff word count: 907 their summary: If you could describe your best friend, Kiyoko, in one word; what would it be? I would pick the word, flawless.

-> my review: alright this isnt fair where is my irl sokka 😐 YOURE BRINGING ME BACK INTO MY ATLA DAYSDF LKSJA- not complaining tho I LOVE SOKKA SO MUCH. and “But for a “fairly smart person”, you made a lot of bad decisions.” THATS TOO RELATABLE STOP IT RIGHT NOW SFKDJK

HEHEHEHEH THANK YOU AGAIN!! SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG GOOD BYE

[gwynpool]

it’s 2AM and i just finished Rule of Wolves (spoilers definitely up ahead)

first, to inform everyone, i read the spoilers when it got leaked in twitter cuz i can’t help myself. (it’s a sickness, i know) i think this is important since it definitely influenced my perspective upon reading the book. also, this is my first time being early in a party so yay me! going in ROW was easy for me because i started King of Scars the day before book 2’s actual release date so everything’s fresh.

secondly, this is really long so i’m sorry. i just have a lot of feelings and need to write it all down. on with the rant.

King of Scars was wonderful to me since it gave me my favorite Shadow and Bone character and the girl who i used to hate for being a mean girl but who I now admire with every ounce of my being. It also introduced a new ship that I am now obsessed with and is ruling besides my love for Jude&Cardan. Not to mention, it gave us Nina, whom though i’m not entirely a fan of due to all my love focusing on Kaz and Inej, allowed the connection between Shadow&Bone with SixofCrows.

Moving on, ROW was a ride and whirlwind of emotions. unfortunately, it wasn’t always the best kind.

I love the fantasy elements of it (tho it was a huge leap especially with the saints power thingy) and the politics because i am a sucker for scheming and stealing thrones.

the zoyalai teasing and angst was painful but in the best way since slowburn is what keeps me going.

nina finding comfort (and attraction, apparently) from hanne made my heart flutter because i haven’t gotten over matthias but this allowed a sort of closure and next chapter for our waffle-loving queen.

the promised wedding by leigh wasn’t what i expected but i’m not complaining since david&genya deserved nothing but happiness.

almost everything seems going well (aside from the fact that aleksander was ressurected apparently)and then everything crashes and burns and i just have to wonder why?

so the promised funeral alongside the wedding one, immediately comes after two? three? chapters as they were attacked during the afterparty of the wedding. and guess what? leigh killed the fcking groom.

the thing is i already knew he was going to die (with the spoilers and all) but i did not expect it to come immediately after the freaking wedding. not even halfway through the book!

being spoiled, i think, took most of the pain from the event but it doesn’t lessen the fact that it was completely unnecessary??? like though the characters grieved, nothing much was affected from his death? also, don’t talk to me about the character development for the survivors from this tragic event because there. was. absolutely. NONE.

and then we have the fricking darling ressurected. i love him in the first book of the grishaverse though i knew he was still a villain, don’t get me wrong. and my heart ached but was also relieved with his death in the third. he also inspired one of my all-time favorite fantasy villain(antihero?) in the form of Adelina Amouteru in the Young Elites series.

Ceased to be a Darklina fan and am now shipping Aleksander with Adelina because their power tho? like clings to like and they are both imbued with unfathomable darkness. somebody write fics please.

but bringing him back was what for exactly? leigh bardugo preached on how toxic the darkling character was and how we really shouldn’t like him in terms of agreeing with his ideals and yada yada. and yet she brings him back because apparently, he’s the only one paying her bills.

his conversation with alina tho had me expecting some darklina crumbs with fan service on the side since the stans were all raving about it on twitter *vomiting noises from toxicity* but i was surprised since it just further reminded us of how he truly is a villain in his very core and would do anything to get what he wants. so all in all it wasn’t entirely awful and it actually made me like Mal a bit. (never was a fan of him but that’s my issue, not the character’s)

setting aside the darkling issue a bit, the POV from Mayu was skippable. i mean obviously it still needs to be read for the Shu politics and the khergud existence but it just made me want to go to the next pov. Same goes for the “the monk’s” POV since you all know how i feel about him and the cult with it’s assembly and shit ended up also being unnecessary towards the end. honestly, i could do without the journey of the starless saint and his cult.

i truly enjoyed the fjerdan plot to my surprise and i like how nina kind of went through the last of us 2 circle of hate journey. it was definitely difficult knowing her pain and all that she went through and still choosing to be the better person. and yet, i can’t help but be more proud of her development. also, the supposed death of hanne got me going for a second and was actually ready to storm leigh’s home to fix her mistake. thank god it was plot twist. that’s all i have to say on the nina POV because i don’t wanna ruin my good feeling on this.

the crows cameo gave us a mini heist and it just made me miss reading their adventures. also the suli scene tugged at my heart.

imma skip zoya’s transformation but it utterly made me feel amazing and i have never been more glad that she’s kind of overpowered. she deserves it so fck all them haters. you can choke.

nikolai’s revelation and decision for the ravkan throne was not all that surprising, even without my knowledge of the spoilers. i honestly had a feeling that he was always his best self when he was strumhond and he only chose to fulfill the duties of the king because at that time, there was no other choice. so him giving up the throne to his beloved soldier, summoner and saint was a quite satisfying choice of route. there has been some others who would contest nikolai’s decision to step down as something unnecessary in the grand scheme of things but i would stand by my belief that nikolai made the best choice for ravka and for himself. not to say that i didn’t want to see both the queen and king side by side ruling but what are fanfictions for?

zoyalai is canon and endgame. finally. i can die now.

now the last two chapters was a toss up. for the first one was the darkling’s sacrifice. okay, so i was also spoiled by this from twitter but when i was reading the book, i keep expecting it to be brought up and it wasn’t. so i honestly thought that maybe that spoiler was a prank. lo and behold it was not and it wasn’t until the very last end. so the buildup was goddamn awful. the whole concept of the thorn wood and sort of atlas moment was just no. like you’re just springing this up now? when we’re supposed to be tying up loose ends but making sure it had history and buildup to well, back it up.

also leigh outright writing genya saying it was not a redemption for the darkling and him being unapologetic about his crimes (basically being a truly evil asshole) doesn’t remove the fact that it still comes off as a redemption arc especially with what is now the synopsis of SOC 3 but ill get to that. he still was the one who did a heroic deed and that fucks me up because it was just devastating to me after making peace with his end in ruin and rising. not because i was hurt that he died yet again boohoo but because it kind of invalidates everything that alina, genya, zoya and countless other victims went through.

on a side note, the darling stans on twitter who keeps defending his actions, i would really advise you to reflect on your decisions cuz it is honestly unhealthy. also, you lot talking smack about nikolai and zoya refusing to sacrifice their lives? stop twisting the story to suit your toxic admiration, nikolai was even first to offer up his life and would do so if it was actually possible. so just go hide in your darkling cocoon and stop hating on other characters to justify your favored aleksander.

the very last chapter aka coronation was good because it gave us inej ghafa cameo as captain of her ship and bonding with our resident privateer and also genya, alina and zoya bonding. but it was bad because apparently the darkling chronicles is still not over and now we’re supposed to grant him death like that’s going to make everything okay? i know forgiveness and breaking the circle of hate and revenge is a huge theme in this duology but honestly, this is just too extreme. with nina it was understandable and the people she hated were born of twisted mindset and circumstances but the darkling? hahahah no. he is a literal immortal who was delusional so now that he’s paying for his crimes, you want to allow him death because you have nightmares? zoya, goddamit no! same to you genya and alina. and so this will be the plot for the third six of crows? why can’t we just stop making this about him. now he gunna steal kaz’s thunder? over my dead body.

in the end, i gave this book 4 stars in goodreads because if i ignore the darkling plot, it was a really good use of politics and fantasy merging in a storyline. i can’t fault leigh for choosing to do this since it’s still her book so i definitely don’t have a right to dictate what i expected from this. also, i have a half a mind to believe that she fell in love with ben barnes and had him in mind writing this so i really cannot blame her because i have been under that man’s charms since prince caspian came out. the spoilers i read made me more open in reading this (backwards thinking but eh that’s how i roll) so i’m not at all crushed by what transpired. it was just weird and was lackluster in its attempt to give ravka some sort of peace. frankly, i just want to read the third six of crows book to maybe find some sort of calm in all this craziness and also delve in some zoyalai fanfiction because it was a long time coming.

shameless promotion but if you guys want to check out my nikolai duology spotify playlist, here’s the link:

[r3almellow]

MLQC Boys With A Child That’s Being Bullied

Slowly but surely I’m getting theses requests done! Super sorry for the wait, guys! 

Warning: Mentions of bullying and suicide (don’t worry nothing happens!!)

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Kiro (8 year Old Child)

You both decided it was a good idea for your child to go to a normal school. Unfortunately, that meant Kiro would need to keep a low profile so people wouldn’t harass his kid. 

Don’t worry though! Kiro is always present for every parent/teacher meeting and school event (i.e. plays). He’s just undercover. 

Teachers are sworn to secrecy unless they want to face legal issues. 

What you didn’t factor in was how perceptive and mean kids could be? 

Countless times your little one was victim to bullying with kids accusing them of not having a father. Your little chip has told them countless times about Kiro, but who honestly would believe that story? 

Little chip: Its true! My dad’s super famous!

Random kid: Yeah? And my dad’s the Easter Bunny!!

Most of the time your little one just ignores them and continues about their business. They don’t bring it to your attention until a few days before Parent’s Day which you were scheduled to come in for. 

They burst into tears after revealing a kid had said something extremely rude about your family. 

If there is one thing Kiro hates more than seeing you upset its seeing his precious little chip cry. 

The two of you devise a plan to surprise them and the class for Parent’s Day. 

On the day, you stand in the back of the class with all the other parents, waiting for each of them to present themselves to the students. Then its your turn... 

A few students snicker which you deduced are the ones that have been giving your child a hard time.

You were ready to put them in there place in the best possible way.

“Hello, I’m _____’s parent and I’m a TV producer! ” You look over at your precious bean with a small smile and then over at the door, motioning with your head for someone to come in. “And this is _____’s father...” 

What the children didn’t expect was for a giant teddy bear to walk into the classroom waving at them. 

The confused looks were to be expected, but they soon switch to complete shock when the teddy bear takes off its head and reveals itself to be Kiro with the cheekiest smile on his face!

The way your baby’s eyes light up at the sight of Kiro makes your heart feel full. Your little bean jumps out of their seat and runs to their daddy’s arms! 

Kiro gives them the biggest hug ever and props them up on his hip. 

Your child stares down a few classmates and sticks their tongue out at them.

Its safe to say the children believed your little bean after that. 

Bonus: Bullies are actually Kiro fans!

Gavin (10 Year Old Kid)

Gavin, has dealt with his fair share of bullies and has done his best to prepare his child. He always tells them never to put their hands on anyone unless the other person throws the first punch. 

Your kid is also a total sweetheart, which makes them an easy target. Its the main reason Gavin decides to teach them how to fight.

When Gavin gets a call from you about your kid coming home in tears with scraps and bruises, Papa Gavin is in attack mode!

If Gavin had it his way, he would roll up to the school ready to throw hands. 

“WHO EVER DECIDED TO PUT THEIR HANDS ON MY KID, COME OUT HERE SO I CAN PEACEFULLY BREAK YOUR LEGS!”

Okay....Gavin won’t actually fight a kid, but if the bully’s parents want a taste, Bird Dad has no problem squaring up. 

Obviously, he’ll have to handle this like an “adult,” so with the school and parents’ permission he sets up a little prank that is sure to get the little shit to leave his kid alone. 

He pulls some strings and has a few cops roll up to the school and arrest the punk. 

The kid is snot nose crying as they carry him off in handcuffs. The rest of the class watches in total fear.

Gavin will walk in to the classroom wearing his police uniform with a scowl on his face that would strike fear into their hearts. 

“Want to be a bully?” He’ll point to the open door that his two cop buddies and bully walked through. “That’s what will happen to you if we catch you.” 

Afterwards, Gavin, the bully’s parents and you have a heart to heart talk with the bully in the principals office.

By lunch time, the bully returns and apologizes to your child. 

There has been no incident since then. 

Victor (12 Year Old Kid)

Oh boy....Victor is the type of parent that won’t play diplomat. You’re messing with his kid? Prepare to face his wrath! 

Mini Li is at the age where they don’t want to be embarrassed by their parents, which is why they try to keep their issues to themselves. Their father will go the extra mile to stop anyone from messing with his pride and joy.

You often have to fix any situations before Victor gets wind of it. However, just like their father they are really good at keeping a poker face, so their issues can sometimes go unnoticed. 

You know when something’s bothering Mini Li the minute they turn down eating their father’s pudding for dessert. 

Once you question them about it, they break down into tears and explain the situation. 

Victor’s first thought is to sue the school and the bully’s parents for letting his child go through any form of discomfort. 

You’ll have to talk him out of it because he will call up his lawyers without hesitation.

You both settle on speaking to the parents directly before taking any action.

You invite them to dinner in order to peacefully handle the problem. 

Victor will cut straight to the chase and let them know that he will not tolerate his child being a victim of bullying. 

The parents will joke it off saying its not that serious and Victor’s cold stare shuts them up immediately. Victor will stop time for a few seconds, turn to you and he’ll just be like “Yeah....I’m not putting up with this foolishness.” 

You don’t even get a chance to object before he resumes time. He takes out his phone and calls Goldman. 

“Get the lawyers. I think we’re done here.”  Is all he says before leaving the parents with shocked looks on their faces. 

You know Victor is 100% serious about this and you’ll have to convince him to call them off, but for the time being maybe striking fear into their hearts will force them to keep their child in check. 

Once you convince him to settle down, you speak with the parents without his interference and develop a solution that Victor is happy with. 

A restraining order...

Lucien (11 year old kid) 

Your child is a very sweet and loving kid who can sometimes be a loner who draws in the back of the class. This makes them an easy target for bullying. 

One student in particular decided to go the extra mile and ruin one of their artworks which was for a school project. 

Your sweet baby isn’t one to act out, so you’re surprised when you get a call about them getting into a fight with another student. 

When you pick them up early and see the tears streaming down their face you know something needs to be done.

When Lucien hears about this he's surprisingly calm while setting up a school meeting with the parents and principal. 

At the meeting, you know the school isn’t taking it as seriously as they should and can tell Lucien isn’t happy at all. 

One of the parents will try write things off as “kids just being kids.” And things take a turn.

Lucien will start spitting facts about the suicide rate for victims of bullying. 

“Are you aware of how many children commit suicide each year because of ‘kids just being kids’? Fortunately, I am not one of those parents that will leave things to chance. Especially not when your incompetence in controlling your own child negatively impacts mine.” 

There’s silence in the room at this point. Its very rare you see Lucien look so menacing, but not surprising. When it comes to his family he refuses to have them go through any traumatic experiences. 

Now, he won’t physically do anything to harm a child, but he would make their family’s life a living hell if anything happens to his kid. 

By the end of the meeting they all agree its probably for the best if the bully changes schools. 

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Done!

Want to read more of my MLQC stuff? Check them out here! 

[mr-walkingrainbow]

exes for abimel, as in mel is the one to meet one of abby exes this time, and she is jelly. Abby loves it.

X’s HERE WE GO

(I kinda made some angst? Instead of Abby loving it she’s a bit upset by her ex) but like it think it’s still ok?

As in MEL MEETS ABIGAELS EX AND IT GOES AS GREAT AS “Who wears a bikini watering their plants???” WENT

ahahahha this gonna be fun

“Heyyy Cariño!”

Abigael laughed, rolling her eyes at Mels flirtatious tone, “Hello my love.”

Mel quickly took a seat across from Abby, grinning wildly for not particularly reason.

“What’s got you in a chipper mood?” Abby questioned pleasantly.

“Nothing really,” she smiled wider, “I just love being in your presence.”

“How warm hearted.”

Mel reached out, heart picking up slightly when Abby immediately entwined their hands.

“Did you order our coffee? You know I usually take-“

-“Ultra dark, three shots of expresso, two creams, and exactly 2.5 lumps. Which honestly seems fairly annoying because everyone knows you shouldn’t split a lump!” Abigael ranted, face screwing up slightly at the thought of her English ways be so ‘thoroughly tarnished’

Mel sighed lovingly, attracting her attention.

“What?”

The Latina giggled, “Your simply so adorable when you get like that!”

A noise akin to a mewl was heard from the secret softy, her nose scrunching in the most adorable way.

“I am not adorable!” Abby tried to defend, “I’m a demon overlord. Adorable is not allowed in our description!”

“Oh sure!” She mocked placatingly, “Definitely not adorable.”

The hybrid scowled, “Oh wipe that smile off your face! Besides the fact I have no idea how you even drink that boiled trash! Everyone knows If it doesn’t come in appropriately sized cup it’s rubbish!”

“Appropriately sized?” Mel snorted, “You mean those literal mini tea cups you have at home?!”

Abby sighed with a flourish, “And this is why tea is the superior drink.”

The lesbian fake pouted, “But I love coffee?”

Abigael softened, just like the huge marshmallow she was.

“And apparently fate has decided that I love you. So for now, I deem your Rubbish drink tolerable.”

She laughed, bringing Abbys hand to her lips for a kiss.

“How I love meeting your high and mighty British standards!”

The later preened, “We are an unusually flawless brood.”

“Oh my GOSH! Abigael Jameson-Caine does have a soft side! Alert the press!”

The sultry rich accented voice came out of nowhere, Mel taking notice on how Abby stiffened. Hands jerking in a quickly stifled stim.

A girl in her mid twenty’s walked up to them, her swagger matching her voice to a T.

She was fairly light skinned, her dark tresses curling into flamed highlights at the end. Her waist was slim, her beauty as evident as her immaculate complexion.

It more then annoyed Mel when she draped herself over Abigeals shoulders.

“Abigael,” she crooned, “So nice to see you.”

The smiled Abby wore was forced, Mel knew this just by looking at her.

“Rachel.” She spoke smoothly, as if the laters presence wasn’t affecting her.

“Rachel is it now?” The girl smirked, leaning down till her mouth was right behind Abigaels ear, “What happened to what you called me in the night?”

Abby uncharacteristically squeaked, her face reddening considerably.

Her poor Cariño looked absolutely flustered, practically sweltering under the blunt statement.

Mel didn’t like this.

She didn’t like it one bit.

And no, she totally wasn’t jealous of the supermodel clone in front of her.

How crass would that be?

“Ehghem!” Mel coughed loudly, drawing the unwanted attention of ‘Rachel’ who looked at her as if she was something disgusting on the floor, “Abby? Care to introduce me to your….”

She trailed off, peering suspiciously at the girl. Gripping Abigaels hand just a bit tighter, if not possessively.

“Right! Right yes of course.” Abigael fumbled slightly, the glint in her eyes saying everything she couldn’t.

“This is Rachel, Rachel Parkingson, you could say, she was one of my Ex’s.”

She gestured vaguely to the girl behind her, the beautiful woman grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

Rachel laughed coyly with a wave of her hand, “Oh Abigael, we were More then Ex’s.”

Mel was sure her face was burning, She couldn’t pinpoint her exact emotion. Just knew it was negative, and aimed toward Rachel-Supermodel-Parkingson.

Rachel soon leveled Mel with another uninterested stare.

“And who might the girl with the simply styled hair be?”

“It’s bloody wonderful hair!” Abby bit in defensively, calming down just a tad afterwards, “And Rachel, Meet my Girlfriend, Melanie Vera.”

She emphasized the word girlfriend, trying to get her obvious point across.

“Hmmmm,” the miss universe copy barely acknowledged, “Must be recent.”

“And why is that?!” Abby retorted

Mel, however, could tell from Rachel’s smile that her girlfriend had just walked into a trap.

“We’ll it’s simple!” She left her perch on Abbys shoulders, walking leisurely till she was finally in view, “You don’t stick around for anyone! She’s a quick bang in a series of hookups!”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I would know. I was one of them.”

Abby looked petrified, letting her hair fall in her face slightly, as if a curtain to shield her.

Mel could feel the hybrids hand shaking in hers, matching her own rapidly increasing anger.

She didn’t quite understand why this was phasing her girlfriend so much, as she usually has the sharpest of tongues and infinite wordplay.

However, someone was affecting her Cariño, and she wasn’t about to let that fly.

“Rachel I’m pretty sure-“

-“I mean, it’s not like it matters!” The girl interrupted loudly, leaning in close, “I mean she’ll be done with you eventually. And then we could hang out again? Hmm? What you think? Ditch lame haired and come for some awesome Netflix and chill minus the Netflix?”

The anger Mel felt was threatening to boil, the only reason Rachel wasn’t sporting a broken flawless jaw, was because she was currently holding Abbys hand, and she was worried letting go might cause her fragile personna to break.

“Oh don’t you remember?” Rachel eloquently purred, lowering herself so she was near Abigaels head once again. Hand snaking upwards, “The fun we used to have? Your buttons, which I always pressed.”

Abby was shaking now. Face trembling with restraint.

Mel could see Rachel’s hand trailing upwards, and with rapidly growing concerned, understood the later was going to try and pull Abigaels hair here and now.

That.. that wasn’t allowed. Mel herself would never tug the brunettes locks somewhere she wasn’t comfortable, nevertheless in public, where people could observe it!

She made to punch Rachel in the face, but apparently her girlfriend beat her, to well, the literal punch.

“NO!” The overlord barked immoderately, free hand blazing up, catching the models wrist in her hand before she could reach her hair. Fiery gaze turning to stare at the envy green orbs.

“Rachel I understand your bitter, but I love Melanie. She’s my girlfriend. She’s amazing. And she’s actually loves me. Like can you believe it? She loves me!”

Abby smiled appreciatingly at Mel, who blushed in reply, giving a smile of her own.

“Oh I see,” Rachel’s tone had become harsh, “Cause where’s Abigael without her Mommy issues.”

Abigael let out a choked whine, rapidly bringing both hands to her face so Rachel wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing possible tears well.

“Oh that’s ENOUGH!” Mel boomed, finally standing up.

Sure the girl towered over her, but she had just hurt the person she loved the most, and that amount of anger made up for the height difference.

“You are rude, ignorant, cruel, and not to mention a total BITCH!” She seethed violently, the model actually looked worried by her demeanor, “I don’t get why your so strung up on Abby- wait no, scratch that. I do! I do understand! I understand because she’s the best person I’ve ever met In my entire life. And every day I wake up with a smile on my face because I know I’m lucky enough to be loved by someone as amazing as her! And you, Rachel Parkingson-whatever the fuck. You not only ignorantly came over here, you made Abigael uncomfortable, and continued to do so even though it was obvious, you treated me like dirt, you threatened to Out her secrets, and then, on top of all of that, you had the bare audacity to make fun of her trauma she’s gone through with Ratcesca! So now, if you don’t want to loose that pretty little face of yours, I suggest you get the fuck out while you can!”

Rachel let out an unflattering shriek, before stomping away in her break-an-ankle heels.

Mel knew some people were staring, but she couldn’t care less. Right now she wanted to make sure her Cariño was ok.

“Honey? Mi amor?” She cooed softly, quickly moving so she was near her girlfriend.

“Cariño I’m going to hug you now, ok?”

Their was a quick nod from Abby, which is all she needed. Letting her arms wrap around the hybrids slim waist, resting her head on her shoulder.

“Mi sweetness, are you ok? That girl was a total jerk and you shouldn’t listen to a word she-“

-“Thank you.”

“Huh?”

The Latina gazed at Abby, with slight confusion, “I mean, of course My Love, I couldn’t just let her treat you like that?”

Abigael blushed, looking down, “You still didn’t have too.”

“Oh honey, sweetie,” Mel fluttered a hand underneath Abbys chin, lifting it so she could look straight into her hazel orbs, they were red rimmed, but she ignored it, “I will always defend you, I will always love you, no matter who says what. I’m sorry I didn’t react quick enough in fact. Your always so sharp with your tongue, but I should have realized Rachel was affecting you.”

“No!” Abby argued, “If anyone should apologize it’s me! I shouldn’t have let her say that stuff to you. I was too weak.”

“Don’t you say that!” She begged, squeezing tighter, “Abby you are the farthest from weak!”

“But I let her say that stuff…”

“Let her? You let her? Last time I checked you didn’t control what people said to me. You didn’t let her do anything! She hurt your feelings and made you uncomfortable. And while I wish no one ever did that, it’s ok to feel hurt and uncomfortable. It’s not weak or pitiful!”

Abigael still avoided her gaze, something else was wrong.

Mel crouched in front of her, grasping both hands in hers.

“Cariño, I love you, what’s on that beautiful mind of yours?”

Her girlfriend looked up, giving her a pained expression.

“Mel, your not Rachel.”

“Oh.”

Mel wasn’t sure how she was supposed to handle that information.

“Um… is that a bad thing?”

“NO!” The hybrid exploded, wincing afterwards, “Bloody hell, I’m messing this up entirely!”

She took a deep breath, looking at Mel once again.

“What I’m trying to say is, Rachel said your were just a simple hookup. Just like she was. But your not! Your not like Rachel, can’t you see?” Her eyes glistened with her passion, “Melanie, Rachel could never even be compared to you, because unlike her, I actually love you! I didn’t feel a single thing for her. She was just an outlet for whatever frustrations I had back then. And I had a lot of them. So I also understand why she’s so bitter to me. I wasn’t the best as communicating boundaries, and I assumed everyone knew I only did things for sex. I guess she was just unfortunate.”

Mel smiled a loving smile, cupping the side of Abbys face, “Aww, Cariño! You love me! You really love me.”

“I really really do.” Abigael breathed out, leaning into the touch.

“Aww, your so adorable.”

The squeak of rage that left Abbys mouth was by far the cutest thing Mels heard so far.

“Traitor!” She accused, “I am not adorable!”

“Aww you can’t deny ittt, I looove how adorable you are!” The Latina teased.

Abigael grumbled something unintelligible, letting her head fall forward onto Mels shoulder.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to her crown,

“I love you too.”

[memesrruinedsoirant]

His Dark Materials Book 3 (The Amber Spyglass) GIGANTIC plot holes

Ok WTF the heartbreaking canonical realization of Lyra and Will having to separate is full of shit. So WHY did I have to suffer so much as a 10-year-kid and just now again after rereading it?

1.) First of all, Xaphania warns Will that open windows cause Dust to leak out, this leaking being deadly for consciousness and sentient life in the universe. But ONE window can be left open, because that Dust can be renewed by sentient life being active, kind, curious, busy, and humanly conscious. Lyra and Will choose to leave the window in the underworld open, and sadly decide to not leave one open for their own use.

HOWEVER, we know that there are infinite universes in existence, which means the production of Dust is ALSO literally infinite, with production levels also increasing and decreasing depending on the sentient beings’ actions and curiousity. I SUPPOSE if the speed of the leaking of only TWO windows (the underworld window + Lyra and Will’s window) is higher than the speed at which Dust from INFINITE universes is generated, this would lead to a perpetual leaking that would continue for a long time. This does appear to be a big problem, but please note the mathematical discrepancies that are required for this disaster to happen. The two windows would have to leak infinite amounts of Dust at a higher speed than that of the entire infinite multiverse (literally billions of universes each with trillions of intelligent beings) generating infinite Dust. You’d think Angels would know this and advise them accordingly, right? If they know but they don’t tell them, that’s just mean and doesn’t add up with their motivations. But if you assume that they don’t know, that’s messed up because then the continuity’s messed up. Angels supposedly know everything because they ARE everything (matter loves matter, remember?) This entire part of the book does not make sense. The only way this part works is if the existence of just one more window is THAT detrimental of an increase to Dust leakage ACROSS the multiverse. This part of my reasoning is mathematical, yes, but the math doesn’t seem to add up in this series which otherwise conveniently relies on reasonably accurate and focused scientific reasoning like different timelines and universes sprouting out of different events that go in multiple directions. But FINE. If you say that the ONLY TWO windows in existence leak THAT much THAT fast, so much so that the multiverse’s TOTAL Dust levels decrease even WITH infinite production that only needs to be encouraged by propagating creativity and free will, I will accept this point begrudgingly. I know, it’s nonsensical. Hence the grudge. Moving on.

2.) Xaphania actually DOES cede to the point that if a window is open for only a short amount of time, there is not enough opportunity for a considerable or harmful amount of leakage to occur. 30 seconds in and out for a window so Lyra and Will can switch between worlds every six months, right? The problem here is that with every new window cut open by the Subtle Knife, a new specter is drawn from the Abyss. Okay, big problem. I understand.

BUT then Xaphania casually says ‘Go on back to your own worlds. Cut a new window, no problem. Yes, this will create a new specter. We’ll take care of the specters.’ EXCUSE ME? YOU CAN TAKE CARE OF SPECTERS? THEN WHY NOT ALLOW WILL AND LYRA TO LIVE TOGETHER AND SWITCH BETWEEN WORLDS EVERY SIX MONTHS WITH A NEW PORTAL? The Dust leaking in 30 seconds of a window being open is insignificant, by Xaphania’s own admission. And if the angels CAN deal with specters, then why not allow the two to live together and the angels deal with only ONE new specter every six months? Seriously, the way Xaphania talks about the Specters seems like she’s describing cockroaches and she’s the baddest exterminator in the tri-state area. So would it really be an issue if these 2 adorable babies opened up a window every few months to live long fulfilling lives with each other while switching between their worlds to prevent health problems? Even if a Specter went away to another distant world, angels CAN move about between worlds with ease. Will can even tempt these angels with prostitutes (this blog def supports sex workers) and snacks (read next paragraph for elaboration on the Angels’ weaknesses and temptations) Anyway, I call bullshit on this reasoning.

I am EVEN MORE angry when thinking about the fact that Will HIMSELF can kill Specters. He literally DID it during the big battle between Asriel and Metatron’s forces. If his opening a new window creates a new Specter with EACH new window, surely he can kill EACH new Specter? They seem to be shit-scared of his knife anyway, and for GOOD REASON. He could just call a few angels to hold em in place and stab stab boom done that’s that. And do NOT tell me that Angels won’t do it there are literally ‘uncounted billions’ of them and they do seem to like things such as food and the ‘touch of flesh’. Will could just give them access to a few strip clubs or get them Nando’s every now and then for this simple service. WILL COME ON THINK YOU HAVE ANGELS AND A BADASS KNIFE WHY ARE YOU CONCERNED ABOUT SPECTERS??? OPEN A NEW PORTAL WHENEVER YOU NEED AND JUST GET IT OVER WITH QUICKLY TO AVOID LEAKAGE AND REMEMBER TO KILL THE PESKY SPECTER.

Anyway, the heartbreaking farewell at the end of The Amber Spyglass is absolutely unnecessary as my mini-dissertation details. Yes, admittedly this is a children’s book, but the writer DID himself graduate from Oxford and so I do expect him to see this gaping hole in his uber-complex plotline that he himself created. I can only assume that the ending broke thousands of hearts like it did mine twice, when it does not need to at all. It’s even more frustrating when the other parts of the series are really quite well-written. At least for the most part, anyway. 

This particular snag could have been avoided ridiculously easily, even if it had taken another whole book. Anyway, from now on my mental version of the canon consists of Lyra and Will both having this realization soon after saying goodbye, and Will a) either goes back right away, b)fixes his Knife if he’s too sad and slow to realize this before breaking it (both follow point 2′s reasoning), or c) convinces an Angel with ANY sense the ridiculousness of their ‘dilemma’ and thereby keeps another window open between his world and Lyra’s (point 1). Or maybe they both realize this before taking any brash steps at all. I mean, they’re both smart af so this is hardly a big leap for either of them. Ok rant done I’m adding tags now I might be embarassed now coz this IS a children’s book and I’m pretty late to the rereading party and I was too young to see this hole when I was nine anyway. Maybe others saw this before me.

[gingerwritess]

Heeey not that you have to do this but let me throw a wrench in the happiness and ask how would Loki act if there were complications during the birth? (If you hadn't already done this?)

i’m so mad at how long this took. Frigg’s birth. FINALLY. she’s been floating in existence for ages, now she can actually be BORN and i’m actually HAPPY WITH THIS

warnings: birth. death. life again. blood. crying. pain. general angst. a happy ending. complications and (spoiler) kind of child death, but only for a little bit. everything ends happily with everyone alive.

disclaimer: i am not a doctor. i have never given birth before nor delivered a baby. forgive me if this isn’t perfectly accurate. okay enjoy

Elliot is five now and Loki still can’t believe it; he’s raising a child. With someone. And honestly, doesn’t seem to have screwed anything up too badly so far.

I mean, he must be doing something right—he’s only about a month away from getting another one.

It was a…different pregnancy.

See, Elliot was right on time. His birth went as expected, he arrived the day before your due date, you went to the hospital, everything went smoothly (for the most part. Loki still won’t forgive himself for his own behavior, but you’ve been slowly working to mend that tear).

By the end of the night, you and Loki had a beautiful, tiny, healthy (blue) baby boy.

Your daughter—Sleipnir, you’ve jokingly decided to call her until you can settle on an actual name—still has about three weeks to go.

Everything has been heightened, with this one. The pains and aches are ten times worse, the cravings and morning sickness and drowsiness have reached catastrophic levels, and you’re huge.

You feel huge, ready to pop, which is only worse than the reality of the fact: this baby must be planning on being bigger than your first, plain and simple.

The days are dragging and so are you, slugging along towards the finish line when this baby finally decides she’s had enough. You move slower than the speed needed to feel useful in any way, shape, or form, and Loki does his best to slow to your speed, too—the two of you struggle out of the house every once in a while, a dashing prince and an upright snail with its shell on backwards.

“Any day now,” Loki always smiles. He says that from morning till night, he has been for the past two weeks. “Any day now.”

Then he kisses you and tucks you into his arms, a firm hold on your enormous belly until you get too hot and sweaty and annoyed being so close to him and wiggle away to kick the blankets off.

The nightmares started with four weeks until the due date.

After the first one you thought you were in labour, waking up in a cold sweat with a sharp pain in your stomach—you screeched and smacked Loki awake and Elliot came running—but a few moments of gaining consciousness reminded you that you had simply been stabbed, in your dream.

False alarm.

That’s okay, Loki had said, rubbing your back and kissing your temple, sound every alarm. Any day now.

Can’t wait to hug blueberry, Elliot had helpfully added.

A couple nights later you dreamt you managed to actually birth this child, but when the doctor handed her to you, she was nothing more than an unrecognisable lump of cerulean flesh. No eyes, no mouth, just something alive and pulsing with little pudgy arms that reached right for your face.

Loki had to wake you up from that one.

You’re screaming, he whispered. You’ll wake Elliot, is everything alright?

You burst into tears and made Loki put you back to sleep with a spell.

More and more nights passed and sleep became more and more scarce; every time you closed your eyes, some new horror would take place: you popped your belly with a needle and it flew around the room with the squeal of a deflating balloon, the baby was born beautiful but Loki couldn’t see her, Elliot yelled “blueberry!” and ate the baby, the baby was born made of solid ice and you dropped her, sending her across the floor in a trillion tiny shards of ice.

You decided on no more sleep.

Now with only a few more weeks until something has to happen with her, you’re massively sleep deprived and begging Loki to take you to Asgard for the birth.

“It’s too dangerous,” he says, pushing you back into bed. “The baby is too developed for that kind of travel while still inside you.”

He always says that.

Deep down you know he’s right, but you’re terrified and refusing to admit it. So you lay with your back turned to him every night and he lets you, knowing how mad you are, and just traces down your spine when he thinks you’re asleep.

You don’t sleep anymore, but you don’t say anything.

Three weeks until the due date and you can’t bear the exhaustion anymore, which has only coupled with a biting cold that follows you everywhere to make matters worse.

It is you, you know it, it’s inside you and you can’t escape it no matter how many blankets you hide under, and eventually you simply…slip away, off into a deep, freezing sleep that slows your heart and nearly stops your breathing altogether.

Something is hurting today, squeezing and pulling and punching. Maybe just your daughter eager to get into the world.

Huddled in one corner of the couch under an all-encompassing heap of blankets, neither Loki nor Elliot know where you’ve gone—mini-mountains of blankets have become the norm around the house—and they panic while you dream.

Oh, bliss.

You’re back in bed, warm, rested, empty, and staring into Loki’s mesmerising eyes.

“I love you,” you try to tell him, like you just came to that conclusion, but your voice comes out in a muffled gurgle, thick underwater. Another concentrated pain hits just then, but you ignore it.

He nods, slowly.

“Don’t leave me, Loki.”

This time, a shake of the head.

His hand finds your shoulder as your eyes immediately well with tears, a once comforting gesture that this time freezes your skin over with a biting ice. A pained whimper leaves your throat over the crackling of your frozen skin.

“Beautiful girl,” Loki finally whispers.

He brings his fist crashing into your shoulder, and your arm shatters into a million pieces.

Smiling, he flicks a piece of ice from the dip of your waist.

“Don’t break me,” you plead, unable to move but trying to wake yourself up. Just a dream, just a dream.

This time his hand cups your chin, fingers digging into your jaw as you freeze over and lose the ability to speak, and he leans closer, letting his lips brush your frozen ones: “beautiful, broken girl.”

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

His hand tightens one notch too tight and you shatter, half your face hollow and broken and melting in Loki’s palm.

You break beautifully, he whispers, and you feel yourself floating back towards consciousness. Hush, my sweet…shh…

Nearly to the surface but you’re still underwater, losing air and fighting to reach the top and you finally do, wrenching your eyes open to the light and gasping for breath.

Loki’s stroking a hand from your temple to your cheek, staring intently at you.

This is awake, you recognise, and Elliot pats your belly like a bongo, humming quietly to himself.

“Are you alright?” Loki moves more of the blankets over you; despite your sweating, you’re freezing. “I tried to bring you out of that one as fast I could.”

Yes, you want to say, thank you, but your throat is dry and you still feel like you’re underwater. Hell, your sweats still feel wet and you still feel broken.

Broken. Break.

Broke.

Still underwater.

You choke up a mouthful of water from the dream and grab a fistful of Loki’s shirt.

“My water broke.”

Loki blinks in stunned silence, Elliot sings “bum buh dum dum dum” and keeps patting your belly.

“That’s very clumsy of you, momma.”

“Now?” Loki asks incredulously, finally finding his voice. “It’s still too early—”

You shake your head, fingers scrabbling against his chest as your breathing quickens. “Now, Loki. Now, now.”

Now becomes a concept much too terrifying to accept—now is too early. Now is too soon.

Now should’ve been on Asgard, but now it’s too late.

Hospital, Loki hears himself suggesting, mind going numb at the thought of it. Hospital means driving and doctors and needles and cuts from paperwork and cold, drab white rooms with vomit pink curtains, a paper cup of water and sitting hard on the almost-linoleum floors.

The hospital would have been fine—in three weeks.

“No other option,” you grit out, eyes clenched shut and holding tight to your belly. “She’s not waiting for me.”

The first time you went through this process, your water broke at work and Loki was there in an instant, shouting at people to get out of your way while you giggled all the way down the elevator and into the car, too giddily excited for your baby to recognize much of the pain.

It helped keep Loki calm, too, allowing for him to drive to the hospital with few issues (maybe a little fast, but that was expected) and even as your contractions worsened and you slumped lower and lower in the passenger seat, you kept looking over at him and catching his eye. He’d lift his eyebrows—swerve around a corner—and you’d blurt out a laugh, cover your face with your hands, and take a few deep breaths.

This time, the smiles and excited laughter aren’t so present. Minus Elliot, whose mouth opens wider as he slowly comes to realise what the two of you are talking about.

His dad can’t quite seem to find the right angle to help you up—but you’re fighting against him, pushing his chest away instead of pulling him closer, eyes clenched shut and teeth gritting together.

Here, you ask, no…hospital—here? TAKE ME TO ASS-GARD—then you shout TRAITOR and break down in sobs, curling back around your belly.

“Elliot,” Loki smiles, a hand smoothing over your hip. “Could you give us a moment? I’ll call you if we need help.”

The little boy nods with a bright smile, flashing Loki a thumbs up before scurrying into the hallway—where he sits with his ear to the door, his head starting to throb.

“Take me to Asgard,” you hiss.

“I can’t.”

“TRAITOR!”

“It’s not safe—”

“This isn’t safe! She’s practically frozen to me, I’m—I’m so cold.”

Loki’s voice drops to a gentle murmur, only the mild timbre of his words making it through the door. Why do you hate me?? you’re crying, and nothing Loki says or does can console you, leaving Elliot on the other side of the door spiralling deeper and deeper into the worst of Loki’s panic and your rage.

His little hands start to shake and he takes a couple deep breaths, trying to ignore the gut-twisting pain shooting through his small frame.

“Momma?”

“I bet you planned this—”

“Mommy…”

His dad tries to soothe you but the pain is worsening and your daughter wants out, now. She’s moving quickly, an angry little thing already, not waiting for you.

“Just breathe, love. Just stand with me, let’s get you to the car—”

“Shut up,” you snap at Loki, stopping his sweet nothings and pointless reassurances in his throat. “Just have her here.”

Elliot tries to call for you again, trying to warn you because this already hurts and he got sent outside to feel your pain all alone, but you’re feeling it worse and more concentrated as Loki rushes to process what you’ve just asked of him.

“No, but the hospital—”

“Shut up,” you hiss through painfully gritted teeth. “Here. I can’t stand.”

“You would rather…” his hand stops on your hip and holds tight. “Here? Really?”

“You’re a god,” you grit out, eyes clenched shut as your daughter goes cold, “you know everything. I’m not gonna make it to a hospital. Get her out of me, Loki.”

—

Something cracks through the room amidst Elliot’s sobs.

“Fu—damn it,” Loki hisses, and wrenches his hand from yours.

Swollen and turning the most grotesque shade of yellowish-purple, his thumb is bending the wrong way.

“You broke my thumb,” he grunts from between your knees, blinking back tears.

It’s been years since anything actually hurt him, much less broke something, but you were shivering so violently and clutching onto his hand so tightly that it only took one push to make you snap his thumb.

“Sorry,” you choke, unable to find it in you to care too much. Later you’ll croon over him and kiss his bruises but for now, you’re pushing his child out of you. And she’s cold, so one finger can’t possibly be that bad.

The broken finger brings the whole birthing process to a quick pause as Loki scrambles to make some kind of splint for his thumb before getting back to you.

“Deep breaths,” he says under his breath, “deep breaths.”

Both of you follow his instructions, Loki’s lips moving rapidly in muttered incantations, trying to keep you from freezing over completely and the mess to a minimum, dull your pain, make this go as smoothly and correctly as possible.

A slumped, sobbing little pile on the other side of the door, Elliot has had to go forgotten for the moment. Three weeks too early, the baby is so tiny that the slightest wrong movement or slip in focus could end her life before it starts.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs when your head starts to roll limply back onto the floor. A deep breath splits him in two and he sends the duplicate to your side, already exhausted just from trying to keep you conscious enough to push.

“Keep breathing,” it whispers, stroking a hand along your frozen cheek, “almost there. Stay with me.”

Another push and you taste blood; must’ve bit your tongue amidst all the teeth chattering. Elliot goes quiet behind the door, then shrieks.

“MOMMA, BLOOD!”

“L-Lok—Elliot, get—”

“Shh, I’ve got him. Keep pushing, deep breaths.”

He hides his wince of pain and splits once more, sending a third bit of himself out the doorway to comfort the little boy while the other two keep trying to get this new baby into the world.

Your throat is closing in on itself, slowly but surely asphyxiating you and your fingers scratch at Loki’s broken hand, reaching for the real Loki, scratching his arm when no words will come out. He can only spare a single, quick glance up at your terrified face, eyes bloodshot and lips cracked from the dry iciness of the room.

Your head lolls, eyes rolling back in your head as you choke.

“Stay with me,” he pleads, squeezing your knee with a blood-covered hand. “Almost there.”

One last push and Loki shouts something in a language you can’t understand, but there’s a new weight pressing on your lower stomach for half a second, a blinding flash of blood-red light on the backs of your eyelids, and the world goes dark.

“No,” Loki croaks, and you hear one shrill, tiny cry from his arms, a heartbreaking sob from your son behind the door, and everything falls silent.

“No.”

—

She’s tiny.

Barely bigger than the palm of his hand.

The newborn should be squirming, should be crying and screeching in need of her mother, but she lays limp in Loki’s hands.

“No,” he whispers hoarsely. “No, no, breathe. Breathe.”

His fingers press gently on the slicked skin of her belly, once, twice, three times; he turns the tiny body on her side, trying again to get the little chest to lift with air.

No movement.

“No, nonono, no, no.”

A quick slice of the hand cuts the umbilical cord and it falls from her fragile neck. Loki cradles her close, staggering to his feet and holding her to his chest, bloody hands trying to bring the life back to her lungs and pressing her to his heart, trying to remind her’s how to function.

“Please,” he whispers, shakily running a hand over her tiny, slick head. “Stay with me, no, stay with me...”

You’re unconscious on the floor, lying in a pool of your own blood and Loki can’t be with you both, his duplicates phasing out of existence as he loses the strength to keep them up. Elliot yells again when the one he was with disappears, banging his little fists on the door, and Loki slumps against the far wall, staring at you with tears streaking his face.

You look dead. The baby in his arms is, and he can’t bring himself to look at her.

He hadn’t even gotten to see her eyes.

“Come back to me,” he pleads, trembling fingers running down her tiny body, ten toes, ten little fingers that should’ve curled around his, a little button nose and a dusting of dark hair on her head, blood on her cheeks.

Skin blue as the deep ocean, cold as a corpse.

“Breathe—”

Her fragile form presses against his chest and he holds her closer, trying to warm her, press her to his skin, to his pounding heart.

“Please. Breathe, breathe.”

The baby’s arm drops from his grip.

“No, no, stay with me…”

Should’ve gone to the hospital. Should’ve gone to the hospital.

It might be better if you don’t wake. He can’t face you after nine months of hell with nothing but a dead body to show for it.

Elliot’s finally given up. Loki can see him, lying in a heap against the crack under the door, silently shaking and staining the hardwoods with his tears.

His house falls silent.

For a moment he just sits there. Defeated. Alone. The tiny body of his daughter in his hands, your unconscious form bloodied on the floor.

Should’ve known better.

Frigga.

Frigga would’ve known better.

“Mother,” he chokes out, eyes closing as he cradles the lifeless baby to his heart. “Frigga. Allmother, all–all I had—help me.”

The last pleas fall into the silent house, soaking into the walls and fleeing through the windows as Loki repeats it, over and over and over:

Help us. Help us.

Let us have our daughter.

The very air in the room stills. Only dry sobs, with no tears left to spill break the brittle silence.

Don’t wake up, Loki finds himself hoping as he stares with an empty gaze at your unconscious body. I can’t explain this.

Elliot can feel it, he knows it hurts him, but it’s a good thing he can’t see this horrid scene, this murder scene in their home. His father slumped in a corner with dead eyes, a tiny, bloody baby limp in his arms. His mother in a pool of blood, unmoving.

Loki closes his eyes.

He’s seen enough.

Frigga. Please.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Then, a tiny cough.

Another cough and the tiny body shudders in his hands, curling in on herself, little hands curling into fists, her mouth opens in the tiniest scream—

His daughter cries, and it’s the most beautiful sound Loki has ever heard.

“Oh,” Loki chokes, tears stinging his eyes, “oh, my—”

Cradling her to his heart, he finally breaks. He’s shaking, trembling, laughing and crying all at once as he listens to his daughter cry, feeling her tiny hands reaching blindly, her little belly lifting with each shaky breath.

“Loki.”

It’s a hoarse croak from across the room, and you manage to lift a hand towards him.

“Oh,” is all he can choke out again, “you—”

His laughter mixes with your daughter’s cries and he crawls towards you, clutching the baby to his heart and running a shaking hand over her to wash her with a spell.

“Frigg,” Loki whispers hoarsely, grabbing your hand with his free one, broken thumb be damned. “Can we name her Frigg? Frigga—Frigga saved—”

“Frigg,” you breathe, and Loki lays the wriggling newborn on your chest. “Frigg, oh, you’re perfect…”

Loki carefully helps prop your back up against the couch, clutching your hand and pressing his forehead to yours, eyes clenched shut.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Frigg. A perfect name for the perfect child, a tiny, mewling little girl clutching at your chest and Loki can’t look away, stunned by the ease with which she shifts to her more human form when you cradle her close. 

Kneeling by your side, your hand in his clutched to his heart, he keeps his forehead against your temple and sends a silent thank you to the only mother he ever knew.

“Loki,” you murmur, the baby nuzzling against your neck, “she’s so beautiful. So beautiful.”

He can only choke out another teary laugh, nodding and squeezing your hand, not ready to let go yet as he kisses your forehead. 

A quiet moment passes just soaking in the fact that your little girl is breathing, you staring at her tiny movements while Loki lets himself catch his breath against your cheek. Right now, he can’t hold you tight enough.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Frigg and catch sight of Elliot laying against the crack under the door, and a pang of guilt twists your heart. 

“Loki,” you whisper, reaching up to stroke his tearstained cheek, “Elliot. Go get Elliot.”

He nods, eyes still tightly shut as he cradles your face in his hands and kisses you with a sharp inhale, breathing you in. When his eyes open, they have a new spark to them and he pulls himself to his feet, shaking his head with another disbelieving laugh at the sight of his wife and his daughter, alive, together, breathing, hearts beating. 

“Elliot,” he finally calls out, turning to open the door and stopping short when he sees his son curled up on the floor. “Elliot. Oh, kærr, come here.”

He bends and scoops the little boy into his arms, hugging him close as Elliot buries his face in Loki’s neck. 

“You have a new sister,” Loki softly tells him, rubbing his back and carrying him over to you. “What do think of the name Frigg?”

Your son just sniffles and hugs Loki tighter, not letting go even when Loki carefully sits besides you and Frigg, conjuring a warm blanket for the newborn.

“I know it’s not Blueberry,” you add, carefully wrapping her and keeping her as close as possible for the most body heat. “But I think it’s pretty good. What do you think, kiddo?”

“S’like gramma,” he sniffs, little voice muffled in Loki’s neck. “Right?”

Loki manages another laugh. “Right. Frigg. Just like gramma.”

Elliot eventually lifts his head, rubbing his red eyes with the back of his hand and leaning against Loki’s chest, staring at his new sister. 

“She’s real little.”

“She’s early,” you reply with a smile, thumb stroking over her soft head. “She should’ve been here next month, but she got too excited to meet her brother and couldn’t wait.”

A tiny smile tugs at Elliot’s mouth.

“Hi, Frigg.” 

Loki catches your gaze, the softest of smiles playing at his lips. 

“I’m gonna be your brother,” Elliot continues quietly, and sits up on Loki’s lap to look at Frigg a little closer. “You’re so tiny. Can I hold her?”

You chew your lip, glancing back up at Loki. “She needs all the warmth she can get right now, what do you think…?”

Loki just nods, carefully taking the bundled baby from your arms, laying a hand on her head as it glows gold. “I’ll take care of that,” he replies, and brushes his lips gently over her head. “Sit down here, Elliot, right next to mom.”

Elliot does, scrambling to sit crisscross against your side, arms reaching for Frigg. “Ready, ready.”

“Careful,” Loki warns him, gently placing the newborn in Elliot’s arms. “Support her head, right, keep your arm just like that.”

Elliot’s cheeks are puffed out as he holds his breath, focused strictly on perfecting the way to hold his baby sister, staring at her tiny nose and shut eyes. 

Not bothering to hide your smile, you lean in close, your hand under his arm to help support her head, just in case. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Elliot lets out his breath slowly, brows furrowing. 

“Nah, not really.”

Loki’s eyebrows shoot to his hair and you burst out laughing. 

“She’ll look completely different in a couple weeks,” you laugh, planting a kiss on the top of Elliot’s head. “She’s about to get really, really cute, don’t worry.”

Smiling softly, Loki shifts around to sit on your other side, draping his arm over your shoulders and leaning over to kiss your temple. “She is beautiful,” he whispers, stroking the back of one finger over her tiny cheek. “She is. We made that.”

“Frigg,” you whisper back. In the arms of your son, she sleeps quietly, tiny eyes shut tight. “Thank you, Loki. For everything.”

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the back of it. 

The makeshift splint on his broken thumb rubs rough against your skin.

“Loki!” You grab his hand and he winces. “Your thumb, oh, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine,” he laughs. 

“No, it’s not, oh my god, I’m so, so sorry—”

“My first broken bone in a thousand years.” A finger under your chin, he tips your head up and catches your lips with his. “I’d say it was worth it.

―   ―   ―   ―

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[elizabethrobertajones]

Did Bobo really create the Wayward Sisters? If so, why weren't Jack and especially Cas included in that episode? That's my biggest issue with that pilot honestly, I mean, the fact that the show abandoned Claire and Cas' bond after season 10 and gave that storyline to Salmondean. Her bond with Cas is more interesting because of their connection to the Novaks. I also think that Claire and Jack would've made a more engaging dynamic and spin off together, I think they're strong characters & actors

Hi there!

Bobo isn’t the “creator” of Wayward so much as it can even have one, as it was a very organic idea, which even involved a healthy amount of fandom input. The original campaign in season 10 was for Wayward Daughters, and the idea picked up so much steam the altered title for, I guess, a mix of copyright and thematic relevance was the Sisters one. I’d say 10x08 was the real genesis of it as something that could be really solid. Once Kim and Briana were put together the chemistry and star power they could have had together was really meteoric as far as our small SPN world was concerned. Phil Sgriccia directed 9x13 and wrote 10x08 and was more of the parent of Wayward than any specific writer in that sense. Jody and Claire were pretty much common property of the show by that point. Claire was really introduced again in relation to plotlines and questions about Cas and less to do with them really going out of their way to re-launch her. I think they’d have been much cornier about it from the start and while YA protagonist diary writing her way through the end of Wayward Sisters was cute, it’s the sort of cutesy that really has to be earned. If she STARTED that way, like maybe me and 3 friends would be stanning her and everyone else would be revolted :P

(I am a YA fantasy novel author, but I do think everyone should make room in their hearts for this level of cheese)

In any case, Bobo just threw his hat into an already crowded ring with Alex, but obviously loving the characters and having his own personal wayward child to contribute did help elevate him to the prospective showrunner seat, but also all the other writers who’d written these characters except Dabb had left at that point. If Bobo was going to shepherd them through to their new show, he’d be the legacy writer, even though he was a new baby writer in the season Donna was introduced... Attrition aside, he did genuinely write them very well, loved their stories and was great with writing Jody when he could get her, so he would also have been a good choice even if all the others were left still... 

But anyway. Season 10′s subplot for Cas was about Claire and learning some stuff about himself along the way, but she was used very much for his personal development and for Dean as well, being a mini Dean herself in a season where he had lost a lot of his sense of self. It’s a total accident of scheduling but Angel Heart (10x20) being the last episode before 10x22 is a nice touch in that regard. And while Cas tried really hard with Claire and awoke his inner Dad side so that he’d be more prepared for fatherhood next time, it was pretty insurmountable between them to have anything more than a bittersweet relationship where the best he could do was make up with her and see her somewhere safe. The fact of him looking like her actual dead father is horrendous the more you think about it and while she managed to see him for who he was instead of a horrible monster, that’s more than enough trauma to inflict on an already traumatised girl for the sake of helping Cas’s manpain and tidying up the sticky question of Jimmy and Cas’s right to the vessel. 

Angel Heart very specifically ends with TFW mailing Claire to Jody because they know she’s already good with Alex in a genuine way and can handle these sort of issues and has done it before. And also because she can be a guardian who will not constantly remind Claire that her father is dead but something is walking around wearing a perfect reconstruction of his face. Carver era did a few things here and there with bodily autonomy and the problem of angel and demon vessels, but it was also really hit and miss. They’d get random waves of feeling guilty about it but then by necessity go back to stabbing angels in their still-living vessels an episode later. Claire was a way to address at the very least that whatever Cas was being put through was only a punishment on Cas and not on Jimmy as well, which is probably why we got such sappy Heaven scenes. We NEEDED to be shown he was in Heaven and largely okay with what was going on so that the show could justify using Cas at all as a character without breaking the code of ethics they tried to make their own characters adhere to. Aside from that it also gave Cas a side plot for when he wasn’t needed in the main plot, and any emotional connection to anything that wasn’t Sam and Dean.

Anyway 10x20 caused this huge fandom high which was followed by one of the lowest lows of the fandom immediately after, and both centred on female characters (in fact, now we know, 2 lesbians even! Though I’d wonder if, The Gay Agenda aside, Bobo spite-wrote that specifically because of the roots of Wayward) and I think that galvanised the whole movement of fans and hopefully some self-reflection in the show. They DID start making an effort in season 11, which shows some of the early signs of better inclusion but also backtracking or edging nervously away from the more intense Carver era stuff. Not just because Dean didn’t have the Mark any more but in general it was like someone had opened a window and let in some fresh air... Even before Carver bailed somewhere around the midseason to go do a different show and Dabb started to step up. 

All this to say that the Wayward stuff was always about the female characters and making up for the past sins of the show. It’s even a riff on the “wayward son” line which obviously centres around male protagonists and their journey. Claire stumbled into being a part of it in the lucky way of being in the right place and time, but the journey had already started even in the season 10 momentum with earlier work and it was that which suddenly made the prospect that Jody had two young women living with her now seem like a starter for the next generation of the show as it was a mirrored format to season 1 in a way, if you took Alex and Claire as the new Sam and Dean. It was exciting but people flipped out after Angel Heart because stuff had been bubbling since season 9 and earlier in season 10, so this was just pouring more candy into an already visibly full bowl of potential tasty gems. It made a possibility seem real that hadn’t before because we already had Kim bitterly complaining that the CW refused to hear the case for a Jody spin off because she was too old. The next best thing was a Jody spin off where she was the Gandalf to some CW age appropriate characters.

(the CW is and always has been garbage)

Anyway in season 13 Jack was introduced as a Claire 2.0 but as a male character with staying power for that reason, but he was filling the space she left for Cas. He couldn’t be a father to her and neither really wanted that set up anyway. But thematically it had created the possibility of Dadstiel and the space he had in his heart for that. Since the show was in its waning years they would be looking for endgame and handing Cas an easy win with a son he could unconditionally love who would love him back unconditionally absolutely filled that gap. It was a non SamnDean thing that Cas could have for himself outside of whatever happened with them. Not sure the memo came back that he was supposed to have mORE than that but oh well it’s not real if you don’t watch it :))) But yeah Jack was always going to be linked to Cas’s endgame, he wasn’t a free-floating character such as Jody who could go where she wanted and do as she pleased. He was main story relevant from start to finish and tied inexorably to another main character’s fate. Because the show wouldn’t do that with its female characters they could be bundled into spin offs but in practical terms Jack was both never what the Wayward as envisioned by fans or writers was about, nor would he have been free to go. 

Since it would have been about centering the stories of people overlooked by the main story, Claire a case in point that she had her life ruined in season 4 and it was a footnote until season ten, and then metaphorically more the concept of having queer and non-white characters in the mix of main characters, it would have represented a future of the story where the main show was unable to tread. Probably because of the CW. Also inherent biases in the writers. Bad cocktail. Jack is both too white and too male to fit the brief to ever leave SPN, and not only that but he is so as a precise mirror to the main white male characters, being passably any one of their sons if you squint, and meant to be instantly instinctively read as such... he was one of the safest bets of representing the show as the network wanted to imagine its target demographic.

So I really don’t think that Jack has any place being in a spin off of the show unless you want more of the same. They tried to give us something different and the CW didn’t like it because it wasn’t more of the same. Ironically a Jack spin off, with or without Claire, would have more chance of being greenlit and more chance of success. But the spin off they put their heart behind was Wayward Sisters as it was. And I think it was absolutely correct that never mind leaving Jack out of it after his work was done in the lead up episode to help set the table, but honestly they could have cut all the middle scenes of Sam and Dean wandering in the woods and gained precious seconds with the girls and still had a functioning story with those guys. It was like some cowardly missive was sent that the show couldn’t actually go more than 10 minutes without showing a flesh and blood Winchester or the whole thing would spontaneously sizzle out of syndication and the money tree would wither on the spot. And in the mean time, we could have been having Banter with the girls. Or Claire and Kaia holding hands some more. The good stuff :P