#they’re pretty terrible parents most of the time but not like THAT

[sadstrever]

i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.

anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.

this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.

i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.

i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.

[heroesriseandfall]

Fanon mischaracterization of the Drakes is how I end up making a post defending Tim’s parents from baseless fanon bashing only to immediately after make a post complaining about their canon parenting.

[ellecdc]

Forbidden love, has to hide it from everyone around them, likes doing the nasty in places they could get caught (quite the thrill) and they end up getting caught

Could this be a prompt for any of the ones you are currently writing or future ? 🫡🙏

mhm, mhm, mhm, loved it - give me 14 of them. [I knew I wanted to do this pairing for it, and finally got around to it!] also, since we're obviously fluff-city and happy-ending central over here, it's low on angst

Remus the Sibling Stealer

poly!moonwater x Potter!sister who need to find better hiding spots [1.2k words]

CW: first part is mature/18+, NSFW, oral (m receiving), professing love, sibling dynamics

You felt vindicated in your efforts when you chanced a look up at the boys above you and were gifted with the most beautiful image. 

It seemed Regulus was only still upright thanks to Remus’ grasp around his middle; scarred hands resting languidly at Regulus’ bare hips thanks to the fact that his trousers were currently situated around his ankles. 

Regulus was wrecked; his head thrown back and resting on Remus’ shoulder and his mouth hanging open in a silent moan as Remus worked another love bite into his neck.

“You’re missing quite the show, Reg; our girl looks gorgeous from up here.” He murmured into Regulus’ shoulder, earning him a pitiful whimper as Regulus’ neck appeared incapable of lifting the weight of his head.

“Come on, pretty boy; look at her.” He encouraged, placing his palm at the back of Regulus’ head and positioning it so that his face was pointed resolutely at you.

The sight was almost too much for you; Remus looking down at you like you looked good enough to devour whole from above Regulus’ shoulder, his hand roving the expanse of Regulus’ waist, and Regulus’ red and teary face looking down at you like you were both his salvation and damnation. 

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t. I’m- I can’t, I’m gonna-”

You responded simply by taking his cock further into your throat and humming in acknowledgement as you felt him tense.

“Fuck baby, I’m-”

And you swallowed; your throat constricting around him as he fell over the edge, coming with a cry.

You fell back onto your heels as you caught your breath and looked up at the pair; Remus petting Regulus’ hair down from its rather rumpled state as he, too, caught his breath. 

“Merlin, you’re bloody good at that.” Regulus breathed at last, causing Remus to bark a surprised laugh.

“Is that how you say thank you, Black? We’ll have to work on your manners.” Remus taunted as he patted his hip.

“I thought you Sacred 28 children were raised to be gentlemen.” You teased as well.

Regulus grumbled miserably as he bent down to retrieve his pants. “I’d appreciate it if you refrained from speaking about my parents while my dick is out, amour.”

“Did Reggie just say dick!?” You squealed in laughter. “How terribly uncouth.”

“Would you lower your voice.” He hissed at you then; tone harsh but face dutifully lovestruck. “Lest you wish our brothers to hear.”

“Lest.” You snorted as you went to stand; Remus quickly at your side to help you up. 

“We really need to tell your brothers soon, you two.” Remus added solemnly, causing both you and Regulus to groan in unison.

“Listen, if they find out, it’s me they’re going to castrate.”

“And?” Regulus asked as he buttoned his trousers. 

Remus glared at him. 

“But they’re so dramatic, Rem.” You whined as you sat on an overturned crate.

Was the secret passageway between Honeydukes and the castle an ideal place for canoodling with your brother's best friend and your brother’s best friend’s brother?

No.

But when you had brothers like Sirius and James, who had a charmed map of the entire castle that told them exactly where everyone was at any given time (thanks to your horribly stupid boyfriend [boyfriend? Could you call Remus that when the three of you only ever met in private? You’d have to ask him] who helped create said map), options were limited. 

“I don’t like lying to them.” Remus argued then.

“You think we do?” Regulus asked, to which you and Remus answered ‘yes’ quickly. “Yeah I do.” He relented. 

“I really don’t feel good about it guys and…I, I don’t know, I love you guys and I want to be able to love you all of the time, not just some of the time.” Remus admitted softly then.

You and Regulus each seemed completely dumbfounded by both the admission of love and the vulnerability of your [yup, you were definitely going to start calling him your] boyfriend.

“Well how the hells am I supposed to argue with that?” Regulus spat with no ire as he pulled Remus in for a kiss. 

“What do you say, dove?” He asked you as he and Regulus pulled apart. “Do you have an argument for that?” 

Yes.

You had plenty.

First of all, you didn’t want to share this with your brother because he would react in one of two ways: he could either a) be horrified and try to forbid the three of you from seeing one another or [and perhaps more disturbingly] b) be so overjoyed at the idea of love that he becomes a unwelcome quasi-fourth in your relationship.

But Remus loves you. Loves.

And perhaps more importantly, you love Remus, and this was important to Remus.

Son of a bitch, “Fine.” You harrumphed. 

“Yeah?” He asked hopefully around a laugh, Regulus smiling at you as they came to stand above you.

“Yeah.” You breathed out as Remus took both sides of your face in his hands and brought his lips to yours.

“My sweet girl.” He murmured reverently.

You smiled up at him as Regulus pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“So are we really doing this? Are we actually going to tell them?”

“Tell who what?” James’ voice echoed through the passageway; the three of you whipping your heads towards the sound to see James and Sirius coming around a corner. 

And it appeared that, despite your best intentions, none of you were quite willing to actually share the news with your brothers/best friends.

But apparently, you didn’t have to.

Apparently, your well rumpled hair from Regulus’ hands, your swollen lips and smudged mascara, Regulus’ belt hanging loose and his uniform shirt still untucked from his trousers, and Remus’ awkward shift in an attempt to hide his bulge which was still at half mast (though falling quickly now) said it all.

“Wha-” Sirius started, though the question died on his lips as he continued scrutinising the three of you. 

“I…I don’t- I don’t understa- I….” James tried then, also to no avail. 

Peter - the bastard - took that moment to appear around the corner then, lifting his head from fiddling with his wand to see the three of you standing there being stared down by James and Sirius like you were in some off-brand western standoff. 

“Oh? Oh! Oh… are you guys shagging?” He asked ineloquently. 

That seemed to restart your brothers’ brains as they both shouted “my brother!?” and “my sister!?” in unison. 

“Rem, it’s been nice knowing you and your bollocks.” You murmured solemnly. 

“Seconded.” Regulus agreed before the two of you took off in a sprint down the passageway and away from your brothers, boyfriend, and Peter.

“Merlin, Moony; you really know how to pick ‘em…leaving you to the wolves like that.” Peter laughed as he carried on ahead; slapping a hand on Remus’ back as he passed whilst Sirius and James continued standing there with their mouths agape. 

“Does it make it any better to know that I’m absolutely head-over-heels in love with them?” Remus asked cautiously then.

“Minutely.” James gritted out then, earning him an elbow in the gut from Sirius. 

“I expect to be allowed two weeks of moping and muttering.” Sirius bargained.

“One week.” Remus countered.

“Nine days.” James tried then.

"Eight?"

"Eleven." Sirius countered.

"Nine." Remus backtracked.

James and Sirius shared a look before James turned his gaze back to Remus. "Deal."

“Fuckin’ hells.” Sirius griped as he ran a heavy hand down his face. “This was not on my bingo card this year.”

“Sorry mate.” Remus offered then, earning him a glare from his best friend.

“No you’re not, you brother-fucker.”

This was going to be a long nine days.

[haru-dipthong]

The difference between あのー and えーっと

As I touched on in my japanese goncharov post, it’s amazing how much novel research, entertainment, and art are locked behind a language barrier. Even though as english speakers, we are privileged to have many things translated into our language, it’s a simple fact that most things will not be translated into most languages.

I am a huge fan of ゆる言語学ラジオ, a japanese podcast about linguistics. The hosts recently released a book, 言語沼, which goes into detail about some of the subconscious rules native japanese speakers follow but aren’t consciously aware of (an english equivalent might be that adjective-ordering rule we follow e.g. big brown cow, not brown big cow). I’m finding it fascinating, and I wanted to discuss some of it here in english, because I think people learning japanese would find some of these things really useful. It’d be a shame if this knowledge stayed stuck behind the japanese language barrier when the people who would find it the most useful can’t speak japanese fluently enough to read it!

The book talks about how most Japanese people will think of 「あのー」 and 「えーっと」 as having the exact same meaning - they’re both “meaningless” filler words. Despite their belief that they’re the same, those same native speakers will subconsciously only use あのー in one particular type of situation and 「えーっと」 in another, and even feel confused or annoyed if they hear another speaker use one in the wrong context.

So what’s the actual difference? 「えーっと」 is used when the speaker is taking time to remember or solve something. For example, the following exchange is very natural:

Person A: 7 x 5は？ Person B: えーっと、35だ

This makes it a pretty versatile filler word! You can use it pretty much anywhere. Another example would be when you’re talking to yourself, trying to remember where you left your keys.

えーっと、鍵どこ置いたっけ？

On the other hand, あのー is much more specific. It can only be used when you’re taking time to figure out the best way to phrase something. For example, when you’re trying to get a stranger’s attention.

あのー、ちょっといいですか？

In contrast, if Person A was addressed with 「えーっと、ちょっといいですか？」by Person B, they’d feel it was rude because instead of considering how to say something, B is considering what to say, which gives the impression that they hadn’t even figured out what they needed to ask before addressing Person A.

This gives 「あのー」 a more ”polite” feeling than 「えーっと」, even though neither is actually more polite than the other. They’re just used in different circumstances.

Let’s quickly look at the example with the lost keys again. If you replace the filler word:

あのー、鍵どこ置いたっけ？

It is very unnatural. The authors of the book jokingly say that it sounds like you’re talking to a ghost, because 「あのー」 is only used when you’re figuring out how to phrase something, and you wouldn’t worry about that if you’re talking to yourself.

Also, did you know even japanese children properly use each filler word in the correct situation? Despite almost all japanese people (even as adults) being unaware of this rule, they’re subconsciously abiding by it even as children - just from listening to their parents follow the same rules!

It really is amazing how good your subconscious mind is at acquiring language, and how terrible your conscious mind is at it. If you’re not already, I highly recommend integrating a lot of simple language content (e.g. youtube, kids shows, etc) into your study routine - listening to people talk is simply the fastest way to become fluent in your target language.

[slavicdelight]

EPHEMERAL

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen × Targ!Royce!f!reader

Summary: Your father, Prince Daemon Targaryen never ackowledged you. Your mother, Lady Rhea Royce passed away when you were little, which leaves you to be raised by your uncle - King Viserys Targaryen, and his wife - Queen Alicent Hightower. As you grow up in the Red Keep, you grew close to the kings second son - Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Warnings: cursing, violence, canon divergence

A/N: part two is here HIRAETH

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

Being the daughter of the infamous Rouge Prince was not easy, especially when your mother was a woman he despised up until her death or after that. You were not even supposed to exist, as your parents held such resentment towards each other, that their union was not consummated for a very long time, before one fateful night, when Prince Daemon was exiled from King’s Landing yet again by his brother, King Viserys. Your maid mentioned to you that your father was extremely enraged and got drunk inside the walls of Runestone. Your lady mother was also having an exceptionally bad day, and so she joined her husband in consuming a ridiculous amount of wine. One thing led to another, therefore you were conceived, and the Targaryen man fled the very next day.

You were born the same year as the eldest son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, growing up in the Vale with only your mother there, as your father, upon hearing the news of your birth did not even acknowledge you as his child and flew away to fight in the Stepstones. He could call you a bastard of his “Bronze Bitch” all he wanted, but even though you had brown hair, no one could deny the fact that you have the blood of the dragons flowing through your veins, for your eyes were the gorgeous shade of violet. Runestone was your home. You loved running in its halls, playing with various servants and guards, but your most favourite part was learning everything you could from your mother. Sadly your childhood joy did not last long. When you were two name days old Lady Rhea passed away in what was called a hunting accident. People of the Vale did not believe that story and were spreading rumours that it was her husband, who murdered her in cold blood.

Queen Alicent, after learning about your misfortune, convinced her husband to bring you to the Red Keep to be raised among your cousins. She mentioned a well-known saying going around the Targaryen family: “A dragon alone in the world is a terrible thing”. And so, as a result, you were brought to Kings Landing and raised along with the queen’s and Princess Rhaenyra’s children. You got on with Helaena and Aemond pretty well. The princess was your closest friend, you spent most of the time together, because you were the only two girls among the royal family residing in the castle. You did not mind her riddles nor her fondness for small creatures, quite the opposite, you found it fascinating how smart Helaena is. Aemond was a slightly different story. You remember being drawn to him, something inside you did not let you pull away from the prince. For him you were his light in life, the only person he did not mind the company of. You both were polar opposites. You being very kind, talkative and a ray of sunshine, him being closed off and quiet. You disliked Aegon, even though you were the closest in age, because of his vile language and inappropriate behavior. He was also a bully and liked to tease you and Aemond for not having dragons, dragging the sons of Princess Rhaenyra into it as well. When it comes to Jace and Luke, you found them pleasant to be around when they’re not doing Aegon’s bidding. Your life in the Red Keep was going well and you thrived in this environment, but what you did not know, is that it would all soon come to an end.

time skip to the funeral of Laena Velaryon

After Prince Daemon won the war in the Stepstones, he came back to his brothers’ side once again, but it did not last long, as he left following the wedding of Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor. During his presence in the castle, he was set on ignoring your existence, and you only saw him once, when he strolled through the gardens, where you were sitting with Helaena. He wed the lady Laena Velaryon soon after and left for Pentos abandoning you again. Now, you are all standing on Driftmark, attending the said lady’s funeral. Once again your father has paid you no attention and you decided not to let it bother you. After the coffin was laid down into the sea everyone started conversing amongst each other. You decided to stay close to Aemond, due to not feeling confident and you knew that he was the only person who could bring you comfort. As you headed to where the green siblings stood, you heard Aegon talking.

“We have nothing in common.” he said, clearly talking about Helaena, who sat on the ground playing with a spider. As you walked closer you heard her muttering one of her riddles. “She’s our sister.” defended her Aemond, right when you appeared next to him and took his hand, sending a small smile his way, which he returned. “You marry her then”. Lately, it has been revealed that the two eldest children of Queen Alicent are betrothed. You pitied your friend, Aegon was probably the most horrid person you have ever encountered.

“I would perform my duty, if only mother had only betrothed us. But I am to marry someone else.” with that he looked at you. “I am happy to be marrying you, as you are the best possible choice.” you said to him, squeezing his hand tighter. The small council also decided on a marriage between you and the King’s second son.

“She’s an idiot.” said Aegon and your blood boiled. “At least she’s not a complete moron and a drunk.” you bit back and Aemond had to fight back a grin. “Oh you little witch.” said the boy and tried to advance towards you unsuccessfully.

“She’s your future Queen” said the younger brother. It was a known fact that the Queen and the Hand wish to put him on the throne instead of Princess Rhaenyra. War was inevitable. “We do have something in common.” said Aegon, when a maid came over with a tray of wine. “We both fancy creatures with very long legs.” and with that he strolled away in search for more alcohol.

That left you alone with Aemond. Suddenly the pair of you heard unmistakably a roar of the dragon in the distance. Vhagar, the she-dragon of Queen Visenya, that recently became riderless. You look at your companion and noticed the longing look in his eyes. “Aemond. What are you thinking?” you said to get his attention. He turned to you for a second before continuing to stare in the direction of the sound. “She’s hurting, mourning the loss of lady Laena. I always wanted to see her, after all, she is the last living symbol of the conquest. “ you kept going. “Hmm. Maybe we should go and see her then.” you looked at him as he said that. “Tonight, after everyone’s asleep so that no one stops us.”You were used to sneaking out, as you both often did so to spend time together in the keep’s library late at night, to read all the books you could find. After small moment of consideration, you nodded to let him know that you agree to the plan. Up untill the night, you spend time with each other exploring the Drftmark castle.

Soon enough it started to grow dark. You and your best friend stood next to the flight of stairs leading to the beach, looking at drunk Aegon. Just as you were planning to sneak off, the boys’ grandfather, Otto Hightower, came into view, grabbing the eldest prince to drag him to his bed. Aemond looked at you as they left and motioned to follow him, which you did without any worries. Both of you walked towards the place Vhagar nested in, and once the mighty dragon became visible, you were amazed. She was so big, that she did not need to open her mouth much to swallow the two of you. “Fuck” muttered Aemond. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” you whispered and couldn’t tear your gaze away. And with you saying that the white-haired boy proceeded to move closer towards her. Your brows furrowed at the act and you asked “My prince? What are you doing?”

Aemond turned to face you and said “She is unclaimed and she’s suffering. I can’t let it go on.”. You then understood what he meant and the idea of your betrothed going straight into the jaws of the biggest dragon alive made you uneasy. “Aemond. This is a bad idea! She could burn you! Or eat you!” you argued. “It is my right, both of our right, to claim a dragon.” you knew that, but there were so many dragons without riders. Surely you could make a trip to Dragonstone and try your luck with others, nonetheless, you knew that once Aemond set his mind on something, there is no changing it.

“Just please, be careful.” you muttered into his ear as you hugged the boy. Unwanted tears gathered in your eyes, as you saw him approach the animal. You were pretty far away and too lost in your own mind to hear him say anything. When Vhagar opened her mouth to breathe fire, you almost fainted from worry, but you believed that he could do it. And he did it, the dragon accepted him as his rider, letting him climb atop her for their first flight. You were so proud of the prince and you beamed into the sky screaming “Yes Aemond! You did it!” and laughing. Once the flight was done and he climbed down, he called you to his side. You came over slowly, wary of the dragon, as you knew, they don’t like the presence of people, who aren’t their riders.

“I did it! Did you see? I was flying!” Aemond became a ball of energy at this moment and you couldn’t help but grin. “You did it. You’re finally a dragon rider.” and with that, you hugged him. “I’m so proud of you.”. He gave you a beautiful smile, but it slightly fell, once you said “But scare me like that ever again and I will kill you.”. Taking his hand, you both started walking back towards the castle and Aemond told you all about the experience, and how freeing, yet terrifying it felt. Neither of you expected to encounter a problem once you walked inside.

“It’s them.” said one of your half-sisters. In the entrance stood the daughters of the late Lady Laena, along with Jace and Luke. “It’s us.” confirmed Aemond when you both emerged from the darkness. “Vhagar is my mother’s dragon. She was mine to claim.” exclaimed Rhaena and you could clearly see rage overcoming her. “Dragons aren’t possessions to be passed down, dear sister.” you told her and everyones eyes turned to you. “Aemond had the right to claim her and she chose him. It is done.” you defended your prince and he gave you a small smile before saying “Perhaps your cousins would find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.” Not that long ago Aegon, Jace, and Luke pulled a prank on Aemond, dressing up a pig in wings, calling it Pink Dread. With that Rhaena tried to hit him, but he dodged the attempt and pushed her away, making Baela strike him on the nose. With that, all hell broke loose and you knew that it will not end well. You tried to stop them “No! Leave him alone! He didn’t do anything wrong!”, but someone pushed you away and you banged your head against the torch on a wall. You could feel the bleeding and the ache, but you ignored it to observe what was happening in front of you.

Aemond was holding Luke by the neck, while in his other hand he gripped a rock. “You will die screaming as you father did. Bastards.” he said and you were shocked, not because you didn’t believe it, but rather because he said it out loud. Everyone knew Princess Rhaenyra was having an affair with Ser Harwin Strong. How else would anyone explain the certain resemblance he has to the “Velaryon” boys? They do not look anything like their supposed father Ser Laenor. The King Viserys was conveniently blind to it, but everyone knew that he just prefered to conceal the truth to protect his “only child”. “My father’s still alive.” said Luke and you watched a smirk appear on the white-haired prince’s face. “He doesn’t know, does he? Lord Strong.” he continued and you had to intervene. “Aemond stop. That’s enough. Let’s finish this madness.” you tried to convince him to let the younger prince go. He looked at you and that’s when Luke broke free and both he and Jace attacked Aemond. Before you could comprehend what was happening you saw a flash of knife and blood chilling scream of your betrothed.

You ran towards him and saw him clutching his eye tightly. The bastard took his eye. “Aemond!” you screamed. “Guards! What are you waiting for?! Get help!” you yelled at your sisters and cousins, while trying to soothe Aemond. Soon enough guards poured in and one of them pulled you away from your best friend, much to your protest. “My prince. Let me see.” The guard turned Aemond around and saw the wound. “Gods be good” Gods be good indeed. You were all taken to the hall and the adults were called. By that time you felt very faint from the blood loss and passed out. You didn’t hear the exchange between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra as you did not wake in time, but you know, as did everyone in the realm, what transpired there.

You woke up two days later, and you took time to recover. It did not stop you from visiting Aemond in his chambers or going to the gardens and spending time with Helaena. One day as you were walking to your rooms, you overheard a conversation between Queen Alicent and Lord Larys Strong. They were discussing the issue of your father marrying Princess Rhaenyra and the scandal it caused. Both believed they had a hand in Ser Laenor’s murder, but what was said in this conversation rang in your head for days. “I would not put it passed Prince Daemon to murder the princess’s husband. After all, nothing stopped him from killing his first wife.” Your mother’s death wasn’t an accident, because it was Daemon who murdered her to finally be free of marriage duty. Since that day you hated your father even more and you promised yourself, that you would avenge your beloved mother.

time skip six years later

You and Aemond have been married for a year now and you recently welcomed a child into the world, a beautiful girl named Alysanne after the Good Queen, who looked like exact copy of the prince. Your husband a wonderful father and lover. Since the day your daughter was born he has been spending all of his free time tending to you both. Even though the Driftmark accident caused the prince to be colder and more intimidating, he was very caring and soft towards you, your daughter, his mother and his sister. Only the women of his family were privileged to see this side of him. After your wedding you relocated to Runestone and you took over your responsibilities as a Lady of the house. Aemond unsurprisingly thrived in the Vale as the Lord of Runestone, as he was dutiful, smart and formidable. You were content there, but you visited the Red Keep as often as you could on your dragons. Yes, you heard correctly. Dragons. About two years after the loss of Aemonds eye, you stumbled upon a dragon of your own. It was one of the wild ones, that terrified anyone who heard his name. You claimed the notorious Canniball. During the last visit to King’s Landing, Helaena gifted you both a dragonn egg from Dreamfire’s latest clutch to put into Alysanne’s cradle.

Just last night the three of you arrived at court for the Driftmark petitions, that are being held in approximately three days. Corlys Velaryon suffered a terrible injury during his voyage and no one could be sure if he will recover. This plundged the succession into question. Lord Vaemond Velaryon publicly questioned Lucerys Velaryon’s right to become the next Lord of the Tides. King Viserys has been bedridden for a long time now, and the realm was placed into the hands of Hightowers, who ruled in his stead. Princess Rhaenyra was informed of the petition and was to come to the Red Keep to defend her son, and along with her will come the whole black fraction of Targaryen family. You weren’t keen on seeing any of them again, especially Prince Daemon, as you held strong resentment towrads the man.

On the day of their arrival you and your daughter were on the country yard watching Aemond train with Ser Criston Cole. Soon you saw the two eldest sons of heir to the iron throne and smirked at their terrified expressions, while they realised what formidable fighter your husband was. With a few more strikes of the blade Aemond defeated Cole. “Congratulations my Prince, you’ll be winning tourneys in no time.” said the knight. “I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” you beloved answered and directed his eyes towards the boys. “Nephews. Have you come to train?”. In that moment the gate opened and in walked Vaemond Velaryon, advancing towards the keep, he casted the nastiest look he could muster towards his “nephews”.

After that Jace and Luke scurried away inside, probably in search of their mother or Daemon for protection and Aemond walked up to you and took your daughter into his arms, while she blabbed excitetly at her father. “It seems, my love, that you scare them off.” you said, smilig at him. “Hmmm. Good. It is best they learn their place. I am not so easily defeated now.” and with that he placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you in direction of your chambers. When you walked inside, Aemond placed your daughter in her cradle, while you sat next to the fireplace. “I wish for you to behave today. I know that their presence irritates you, but it is not for long and we don’t need any fights today. Gods know my father is only waiting for a reason to kill us all, so it will be best not to give him one.” Aemond only hummed at that and went to stand behind you to massage you neck. “You’re tense.” he stated the obvious. “Of course I am. It is stressfull enough to be in one keep with him. Seriously Aemond, do not do anything to cause a fight today, I beg you.” you truned to look him straight into the eye. “For you, my darling wife, I will be civil, but don’t expect me to be nice.” he answered. You nodded in confirmation. That was all you needed.

Finally it was time for the petitions to be held. You stood between Aemond and Heleana, looking straight into the eyes of Prince Daemon Targaryen and he held your gaze, as if it was a staring contest. Lord Hand stood before the Iron Throne and declared the petitions to be open. First one to make his was Ser Vaemond. His statement was going all about the Velaryon blood, and how his supposed nephews did not have a drop of it in themselves. Princess Rhaenyra tried to intervene, only to be stopped by you mother-in-law. At the end of his petiton he put himself forward as the successor of his brother. It was now the turn of your stepmother to defend her son’s right. She walked gracefully towards the throne and started to say “If I have to grace this farce, I must remind you, that yearly twenty years ago in this very room..”

She was interrupted by the doors swinging open as the knight announced “King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”. Everyone couldn’t hide their surprise, after all, the king hasn’t been seen in a long time, too sick to even get up from his bed. And yet here he was, walking to the throne with a golden mask covering half of his face, leaning on the support of a cane. “Father has once again come to defend his only child.” sneered Aegon. You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips, it was true, he never shown any care to anyone other than his eldest daughter, and for that you hated the man almost as much as you did your father. In your eyes he was a weak king and even a weaker man. Disgraceful.

In that moment everyone knew that Driftmark will be going to Lucerys, no matter how wrong it was and how many people protested against it. Luke was a sweet boy, but he had no right to the Driftwood Throne. “I don’t understand why are we discussing a settled succesion.” the king said after finally settling on the throne. “The only one, who could offer keeper insight into Lord Corlys’ wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”. The said princess took a step closer before answering her cousin. “Indeed Your Grace. It was in Lord Corlys’ wishes for Driftmark to be passed to his grandson, Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor my support of him. Princess Rhaenyra offered to betroth her children, Jace and Luke to Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.” You all knew that is was pointless to argue now. Viserys affirmed Lucerys as the future Lord of the Tides, but it wasn’t acceptable to Ser Vaemond as he openly declared the sons of the heir as bastards. “I will have you tongue for that” rasped the king, but it wasn’t necessary. Prince Daemon Targaryen unnoticed by everyone sneaked behind Vaemond, Dark Sister in his hand, and cut off his head in one strike. Everyone in the hall got startled at that and the petitions were over. The King had to be carried out of the hall as he suddenly fell down.

“Did you see them? Flaunting their privilege without a care in the world. It is horrible how they think they can get away with everything.” you spoke on the way back to your chambers with Aemond trailing behind you. “Darling. Do not worry, it will not last long anyway.” your husband tried to coax you to calm down. After walking into the room, you headed straight to the cradle where Alysanne laid awake, playing with a dragon plushie you made for her during your tea with Helaena. The prince dismissed the maid who was watching your daughter and walked over to you two. “I’m scared Aemond. You saw what he did there. He has no restrain, I fear what he would do to us, to her.” you said and looked at the babe. “He will do nothing, for he would be called a kinslayer. And I shall protect you both with my life. Nothing will happen, I promise you.” That made you hug him and bury your face in his chest. Everything has to be alright.

The night came, and with it the dreaded family dinner, which was demanded by Viserys in honor of his family being all in the same place for the first time in six years. You were talking with Helaena about setting up another playdate for your kids, while your husbands stood to the side talking Gods know about what. Eventually, everyone took their seats. You and your husband were at the end of it, exactly in front of Lucerys and Rhaena. You all stood up when the King was carried in and so let the game of pretending begin. “It is good to see you all, together” Viserys started and Alicent proposed to say prayers. The King stood up for a speech. “My own face is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was” he revealed his full face, which was missing an eye. He looked more like a skeleton than a human. “But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king, but your father.” he looked towards Rhaenyra, Aegon, Helaena and Aemond. “your husband” he said to Alicent. “and your grandsire who may not, it seems, walk for much longer among you.” Everyone’s faces displayed something else, but what they all had in common, was pain of seeing him suffer. “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”. After his speech, Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent made toasts to each other and the atmosphere became lighter. Everyone were enjoying themselves, the room was full of music, laughter, dancing, and pleasant conversations. It was all going smoothly until the pig was brought to the table and set directly in front of your husband. By that time Viserys was carried out as he felt worse. That made Lucerys chuckle, as he was reminded of Pink Dread, and send a smirk Aemonds way. This was his mistake, as the older prince suddenly slammed his hand onto the table, grabbed his cup and made the final toast of the night.

“Final tribute.” with saying that he had everyone’s attention and Aegon raised his cup in support of his brother. “To the health of my nephews: Jace…Luke…and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” every person in the room held their breath as their waited for inevidable. “Strong.” “Aemond” you and Alicent said at the same time, but he did not listen and he was not about to stop. “Come…Let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.” that made Jace mad and he went to retaliate. “I dare you to say that again” the bronze haired boy said and everyone stood up from their seats in case a fight erupted. “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment” continued your husband. “Enough of that” you said at the same time Aemond aksed “Do you not thing yourself Strong?”. Jace came over and hit the elder prince straight on the jaw, but it did nothing for Aemond only laughed and shoved the Velaryon onto the floor.“Jace!” screamed Rhaenyra. Lucerys tried to join the fight to help his brother, only to be stopped by Aegon, who slammed him on the table. “That’s enough” said Alicent. You were mad and decided to storm out of the room.

Not much later you husband stepped into the comfort of your chambers where he found you staring outside the window. He walked closer but you immediately took a step back and hissed at him “I asked you not to do anything today. But as always you had to let your pride ruin everything. Now you put a target on our backs. Daemon won’t let this go.”. “My love…” he started only to be cut off by you. “No! I do not want to hear your pitiful excuses.” Aemond scowled at you and you could see him getting angry. “That bastard dared to laugh at me. AT ME! Because of that fucking pig! I was only defending myself!” you only scoffed at that and walked towards the fireplace, further away from him. “If you had any decency you would have ignored it. But you didn’t! Instead you behaved like some peasant and started throwing insults and then began a fight”. “Jaecerys hit me first! He began the fight!” your husband defended himself but his look softened as he saw how worried you were. He kneeled before you and took your hand in his placing a kiss atop of it. “I’m sorry darling. I should’ve composed myself and ignore him. You are right. Please forgive me”. You looked at him and pulled the eyepatch off his face. “I just worry. I don’t want anything bad to happen. We should probably head back to Runestone. I think we overstayed this visit.” Aemond agreed and you decided to set back to the Vale in a couple of days.

But what you didn’t know, is that you wouldn’t be able to return to your keep, as for when you were sleeping, King Viserys drew his last breath and told his lady wife the dream of song of ice and fire, which was interpreted to put Aegon on the throne. War was on the horizont and no one was safe. Your and your family’s happiness and peace is about to become EPHEMERAL.

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

A/N: My obsession with Aemond Targaryen and Ewna Mitchell reached to the point where i decided to give it a try and write something. Anyways, English is not my 1st language, so there may be some mistakes in writing. If you would like a part II of this story, please let me know in the comments. It would mean the world to me if you decided to leave a heat here ♡

[kkami-writes]

hybrid hearts ━ chapter one. cw. the briefest mention of blood wc. 2k

Time had always felt too slow, yet impossibly fast at the same time to you. Some days had felt like they would drag on endlessly with you feeling bored out of your mind, wondering if this was how life was gonna feel like forever. While some days you would blink and then suddenly the day was over. Sometimes even weeks would pass like this as well. That feeling that your life was passing you by, feeling like you had nothing to show for it was overwhelming at times.

But you supposed it wasn’t all that terrible though. You had a job you loved, having opened up a book cafe after your parents had passed. You had inherited a rather large sum of money from them, as well as their old house they owned in a nearby cozy suburb. However, it had only served to make you feel much lonelier what with all these empty rooms for little old you.

Weeks turned into months and the seasons changed from winter to spring. But your daily routine didn’t change much at all. Although you didn’t necessarily hate it, sometimes it just felt so repetitive that you thought you might lose your mind.

Everyone around you seemed to change, constantly adapting to the flow of time. Yet you found yourself utterly the same and all alone. Though that last part might have been partially your fault, you’ve never really tried to branch out from the cozy bubble you lived in. It was a constant cycle of feeling lonely, yet feeling too attached to your quiet lifestyle to put yourself out there.

It’s early evening on a Saturday when that changes.

You’re sat on the small swinging couch that's connected to your porch, happily curled up with a book and some tea. You were constantly trying to read all sorts of genres, needing to keep up with the latest books so you could have the cafe well stocked. However you found it hard to concentrate when the neighborhood kids were kicking up a ruckus nearby. Their high pitched screams hurting your eardrums.

When you look up to glare at them, it’s then you realize that they’re surrounding one of your trash cans, kicking it around and laughing. You’re quick to get up, abandoning your book as you storm over to them.

“Hey!” Your voice is loud and demanding and it effectively startles the kids. That’s all it takes for them to scatter, running in all different directions. You roll your eyes, not bothering to run after the annoying brats but you are rather curious as to why they had been kicking at your trash in the first place.

Glancing into the bin you find an entirely white ferret sans the small singular black dot under its left eye. The animal is on its hind legs, jumping up and trying desperately to get out of the circular death trap. The trash is only half full and it’s not enough for the ferret to be able to crawl out.

“Hey little guy, you must have been scared from all that kicking” At your voice the ferret startles, falling backwards before squirming back onto its legs. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in your throat at its dramatic reaction. “Are you ok? Were you trying to look for food?” You question even though you know it’s not gonna respond.

In the last fifty or so years, hybrids have been woven into modern society after their discovery — though not everyone had treated them fairly. Most people see them as pets, things to own or even worse, sex slaves. Many laws for hybrids have been put in place in an attempt to better protect them, but they were still pretty restrictive. In most cases, people can’t tell a normal animal to a hybrid in it’s domesticated form, so you couldn’t be 100% sure if this ferret in your trash was a hybrid or not.

You had a good feeling though.

The animal glanced at you like it was sizing you up, eyes squinting and head tilting. If the animal was indeed a hybrid, it was most likely a stray. Hybrid law dictates that anyone under 21 required an “owner” or a “guardian” to be in charge of them. In the end, this actually left a lot of strays on the street from terrible people who would abandon their hybrids for various reasons. None could ever be good enough in your eyes to just throw an innocent life onto the streets. At 21 though, a hybrid could declare itself independent and gain the rights to live on their own. Actually finding a place to live was an entirely different problem on it’s own. Many landlords would implemented a no independent hybrids rule and even places of employment didn’t hire hybrids at all or would give them less pay compared to an “actual” human.

People were cruel to things they didn’t understand, so quick to dehumanize someone who might be a little different.

“Are you stuck? Do you want some help?” you call out again softly, slowly extending your hand out to the animal hoping to show it that you meant no harm. The ferret doesn’t take it that way however, it’s teeth sinking into your index finger the moment it gets close enough. You wince at the sharp teeth piercing your flesh, sucking a breath between your teeth at the pain. Still, you don’t shake or make anymore sudden movements.

“S-see? Not so scary right?” The smile you give is slightly strained and the ferret lets out a soft whine. Slowly, it lets go of your finger, backing away with its head down as if ashamed. When you pull your hand back you can see some blood dripping down from the small indentations. “Oof, you’ve got some teeth on you huh?”

“Here, I'll put the trash down ok? So you can crawl out if you want. I’m gonna go address my wound and I'll even leave my door open if you’d like to come in. No pressure but I do have some food if you’d like,” Your smile remains kind as you glance down at the white animal before slowly moving the trash down to its side so it can crawl out.

You turn to walk back towards the house, taking a quick glance behind you to see if maybe the ferret was also following. You try to ignore the disappointment that fills your chest when it doesn’t.

In the kitchen you thoroughly rinse off the wound, waiting for the bleeding to stop before applying some ointment and a bandaid. You won’t lie, it throbs a little but you try to pay it no mind. You remember you’ve left your book outside so you go to retrieve it until you feel something nudging at your foot.

Looking down, you see the pretty little ferret by your feet and a smile immediately graces your lips. In the bright light of your kitchen you can see that its fur is slightly dirty, probably a result from being a stray for quite a while and you briefly wonder how long it’s been in your trash.

“Hi there, are you hungry?” The ferret makes a squeak like sound that manages to makes you smile even brighter at how cute it sounds. You move to open the fridge, glancing around for stuff you have. You’re 100% sure now that that small ferret is in fact a hyrbid, with how it’s been understanding your words and it’s behavior.

You don’t have much in your fridge currently, making a mental note to go grocery shopping some time soon. So you make due with some measly shredded chicken, placing it on a plate before offering it to the ferret. The speed in which the small thing practically scarfs it down is impressive.

“Careful, don’t choke,” you laugh, this time really leaving to grab your book and tea from the porch. When you come back the ferret is at the door waiting for you as if unsure if it should leave or not now that you’ve fed it.

“Do you maybe wanna take a shower? I’m sure you could use one,” the same squeaky noise emits from its tiny mouth and you let out a small laugh. That sound is going to be etched in your memories forever. “ok, sounds good. let me show you,”

So you guide the tiny ferret to your bathroom, showing it where everything is. “I’ll also leave some clothes on the bed if you choose to transform. Oh— but I don’t know if you’re a boy or a girl…well, most of my stuff is gender neutral anyway. Don’t feel pressured though,” With that you leave the ferret to its business. You lay a simple shirt and a baggy pair of sweatpants you hoped would fit whether the ferret ended up being a girl or a boy.

You can hear the shower running and you take that as your cue to leave, exiting your bedroom and closing the door behind you to give them some proper privacy. Glancing at the time you noticed it was getting a little late. Your daily sleep schedule had consisted of trying to be in bed by ten, just yet another boring part of your mundane routine. Though to be fair, owning a coffee shop had required you to open rather early, even if you only had a handful of early morning regulars.

Glancing into your fridge once again, you scope out some ingredients before deciding on an easy kimchi stew, making quick work of the vegetables as you swayed along to a random playlist. In the middle of cooking you feel something crawling up your leg and when you look down, low and behold, it’s the little ferret. It climbs the rest of your body with ease before settling down on your shoulder, to watch you cook. You notice its coat is much whiter now and smells faintly of your vanilla body wash.

“Hi, enjoy your shower?” The ferret chitters back and you have to bite back a coo from the sound. It just chills on your shoulder, seemingly interested in watching you as you cook. “Don’t know if you’re still hungry so i’ll leave the leftovers in the fridge and you can have it whenever you want,” You say while pouring yourself a bowl of your stew. You add some rice before moving to sit at your kitchen table. The ferret runs down your arm and onto the table, curling itself into a little ball.

“If you’re tired you could always sleep. There are three spare rooms and you could pick one if you’d like. At least to just stay the night,” It lifts its head to look at you, blinking slowly before jumping off the table to explore the rest of the house. You eat in silence, something you were used to so you don’t completely mind that the ferret has left you alone. You could have wished that it had kept you some company though. Even though he wouldn’t talk.

The rest of the night goes as normal and you don’t see the ferret again until you’re finally crawling into bed. Once you’re tucked under the sheets the familiar gleam of white fur is climbing up into your bed. You blink at the animal and it blinks back.

“You want to sleep here? Are you sure?” It hops over to you and crawls under the sheets, burying itself into your warm blankets. You let out a small laugh, seeing the small bump taking residence in your bed. “Well, if you’re sure,” You really don’t mind, which is probably strange in itself - to let a strange hybrid into your home and now your bed. Still, if it had wanted to hurt you it would have the moment it came inside or even after you fed it. Maybe it was a little naive of you but you had always tried to believed in the good in everyone. Even if people didn’t do the same for you.

Or you were just incredibly lonely. Could be possible.

You don’t continue that train of thought and instead, bid the ferret goodnight, turning off the lights and falling into a deep sleep.

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xxvi

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: In the aftermath of everything, back to Woodsboro YN and Tara go.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of violence.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this is a bit of a nothing chapter, apologies in advance. This is also the penultimate chapter, part of why I've been procrastinating so long. but alas, all good things must come to an end ;'))

The trip back to Woodsboro hospital is smoother than anticipated. 

The morphine does wonders for your pain, but not so much for your coherence. By the time you’re rolled out into the ambulance, you’ve told Tara how pretty she is at least six times and declared Sam ‘best sister-in-law in the world’ at least three. 

Thankfully, Nurse Rosario is nowhere to be found. 

Although Tara had mellowed slightly after your last talk, you’re not keen for a repeat. After she’d plied you with enough morphine to take down a horse, she’d disappeared. Perhaps heeding the warning of Tara’s stormy glare. 

Tara rides in the ambulance with you, her hand pressed in yours. Sam sits beside you (Dewey had re-romandeered the car they’d stolen with a sigh and a forgiving smile). 

By the time you’re rolled into Woodsboro hospital, it’s near noon. Your Dad’s insurance has paid for a private room for him, your Mom and you and so you tilt your neck eagerly as you’re rolled onto the floor, searching each face for the familiarity of your parents. 

“Your parents are here,” Says one of the EMTs, noticing the way your head tilts around madly, “Your Mom is getting a scan done, your Dad is with her. They’re both okay. They’ll be here soon.” 

“Thanks,” You say, though it doesn’t sate your anxiety. That won’t be gone until they’re both here with you.

The floor is awash with busy doctors and nurses. 

Most don’t give you a second look. 

Except for one. 

Nurse Dawson is standing near one of the nurses stations when you’re rolled into your room. 

You see her first, though Tara doesn’t notice her. 

And when Nurse Dawson turns and sees your girlfriend, her face falls. 

Only for a moment. Her face conflicts, but the professionalism wins out. 

She straightens her shoulders. 

And you can tell by the look on her face she’s the one assigned to you. 

Tara smiles at you as the EMTs settle you into your new bed. Oblivious to the carnage she causes. 

It’s like some sort of reverse superpower. 

The ability to somehow irritate every medical professional assigned to her. 

You sigh and lean back into your pillows as the nurse approaches. 

“YN. Ms Carpenter,” She says politely enough, “Nice to see you again.” 

Tara looks over impatient. You can tell by the lack of recognition in her face she doesn’t recognise the nurse. Instead, she looks over to Sam. 

“Sure,” Says Tara, nonplussed, “I’m going to need another bed in here for my sister. She spent last night on a couple of plastic chairs.”

You look around the room. 

There’s two empty beds - presumably for your mother and father. It’s cramped in here, more so than usual with your family reunion. You can tell before the Nurse speaks Tara isn’t going to like her answer. 

“We don’t have beds to spare for visitors, Tara,” Nurse Dawson says pointedly, “Perhaps you and your sister could come back in the morning.” 

Tara stares a moment. 

Then her eyes narrow. 

You tug gently at her hand trying to draw her attention. 

“Babe,” You touch her arm gently, “Maybe it’s not a terrible idea. You and Sam could both go home and get some rest.”

“Absolutely not,” Tara says, voice indignant, “I’m not leaving you alone, baby.”

“Mom and Dad will be here with me,” You assure, but Tara’s turned her glare towards you, “Seriously babe. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Says Tara, voice final. She shoots a look over to Nurse Dawson, “I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to.” 

-

Your Mom is wheeled back in first. 

You sit up in your bed so abruptly you almost knock Tara to the floor. 

Your Mom is misty-eyed, gaze a little unfocused, undoubtedly strung out on pain medication. Her eyes well when she sees you, hand twitching as she sits a little taller in her seat. 

“Mom,” You croak, “Mom, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, darling,” She says. The nurse wheels her into the slot beside you and she reaches for your hand, “Are you okay?” 

Sam wanders off to leave you to your reunion, but Tara stays nestled into your side. Your Mom’s leg is gone, and you can’t help the flood of tears that burst through each time your gaze wanders down. 

“It’s alright, YN,” Your Mom assures, “I’m alive. Dad’s alive. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” 

Your Dad follows in, shortly after. 

He’s in a wheelchair, looking so frail with dark circles under his eyes and milky, pale skin. He squeezes your hand and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

And then he surveys Tara. 

She’s sitting up now, your hand still pressed firmly in hers. He watches quietly for a moment. You almost think he’s about to ask her to leave when he reaches out, and outstretches his hand. 

Tara blinks in surprise. 

Your eyebrows furrow. 

Your Dad looks serious. The kind of seriousness usually accompanied by a raise in tone or the promise of his shotgun. But there’s none of that now.  

Hesitantly, Tara takes his hand. 

“Thank you,” He says, as she clasps her hand in his. He shakes it firmly, “Thank you for saving my daughter.”

Tara doesn’t say anything. 

You look at your Dad. His voice is earnest, his brows pinched.

He looks open.

Like he’s about to cry. 

“Dad,” You say, voice soft.

He squeezes Tara’s hand once, then lets her go. Slowly, he wheels towards you, eyes misty. 

“You,” He says as he pulls you into a hug, “Are never leaving my side again.” 

He pulls back slightly and thinks. 

“Or hers.” 

-

When the dust settles and your Dad has got the last of his dewey, sappy words out, the room moves back into normality. 

Normality now, it seems, is absurdity. 

Tara and your Dad are watching a ball game together. You survey them, eyebrow raised, sharing a look of bewilderment with Sam as she walks back into the room. 

“Hey,” Says Sam, tray of donuts in hand. Tara and your Dad don’t look up from the TV, “What are we watching?” 

“Giants,” Says Tara. She lounges back into your hospital bed, nestling her head on your shoulder, “Flores is killing it.” 

“About damn time,” Grumbles your Dad, “He spent the last game striking out.” 

“Speaking of striking out,” You say, eyebrow raised at Sam, “Did you speak to Nurse Dawson about a spare bed?” 

Sam shakes her head. 

“It’s fine,” She says, “I’d rather sleep in my own bed anyway. Besides,” 

She eyes your Mom and Dad.

“It seems like a family affair in here anyway. You’re sure you don’t want to come with me, Tara? The nurse seemed pretty insistent that no more beds would fit.” 

“I’m sure.” Tara says, voice flat. She curls a protective arm around your waist. 

You flash Sam a small smile, “It’s fine, Sam. She can sleep with me. She’s little, she fits.” 

Sam purses her lips. 

Tara glares up at you. 

“I am not little.” She says, frowning. 

You press a kiss to her lips. 

“Okay, then big guy, better go home with Sam.” You tease. 

She pouts. Nudges her face into your neck. 

“I fit,” She tells Sam, and then turns her attention back to the ball game. 

Sam makes her departure, shortly thereafter. Your Dad falls asleep midway through the game, your Mom is wheeled off for an MRI at just the moment Tara’s friends make an appearance. 

Liv’s bought flowers, Chad and Mindy follow in with wide eyes. They hug you, settle down into the seats by your bed, careful not to wake your snoring Father. 

“Hey,” Mindy says, “How are you feeling?” 

“She’s okay,” Says Tara, smoothing your hair back, “Now the morphines kicked in, right baby?” 

“Right,” You echo, sitting up slightly. 

Liv smiles. 

“These are for you,” She says, “Tara said they were your favorite.” 

“Thanks Liv,” You say with a smile. 

Mindy settles on the chair to your left, Chad and Liv hover near the end of your bed. 

Mindy leans over to you, a little wide eyed. 

“The Sheriff,” She says, chewing her lip, “Damn it. I should have guessed.” 

“I just don’t understand,” Says Liv, eyebrows pinched, “Why would she kill her own son?” 

Tara shifts, uncomfortably. Mindy rolls her eyes. 

“She didn’t kill her own son, dumbass,” Says Mindy, “Isn’t it obvious?” 

You swallow. 

“There’s no body” Mindy says, leaning forward in her seat, a little excited, “When Ghostface kills, there’s always a body.” 

Liv blinks back at her. 

“What if…” Mindy says, eyes squinted like she’s thinking hard, “What if Wes isn’t dead at all. What if that’s just what he wanted us all to think? What if there’s a third Ghostface, and it’s him?”

Your heart hammers. 

A wave of nausea rises at the theory, but before you can voice your displeasure, Chad beats you too it. 

“Give it up, Nancy Drew,” He says, shaking his head, “You haven’t been right a single time. All those powerpoints for nothing. I think it’s time to pack it in.” 

Mindy pouts, slumping back in her seat.

“I could have been right,” She says, but Chad raises a hand. 

“But you weren’t. Jesus. Leave it alone.” 

He pats your hand, not unkindly, “The important thing is Ghostface is gone and YN and Tara are okay.” 

“Thanks Chad,” You say. 

He leans back in his seat, eyebrows pinched. 

“I just don’t get why she did it at all,” Says Chad, tilting his head in a frown, “Same with Richie. Why? It all seems so pointless.” 

Tara stirs, pressing a comforting kiss to the side of your neck. 

“That’s for the police to figure out,” She says, squeezing your hand, “For now? Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.” 

-

The days pass by in a blur of morphine, and nausea and the blare of Tara and your Dad’s newfound hobby of watching sports games together. 

Tara sleeps at your side, dotes on you like a baby bird who has fallen from the nest. 

Sam stops by in the afternoons, Nurse Dawson avoids the two of you as best she can, coming into your room wordlessly and appraising Tara with a resentful glare everytime she changes your bandages. 

Dewey returns to take your statement, takes Tara and Sam away for hours to question them, but ultimately, the case is clear cut. 

The Sheriff is Ghostface, Richie her accomplice, and by the seventh day of your hospital stay, Dewey informs you the police are closing the case as solved. 

It would be worrying - the police’s utter lack of comprehension - had it not been in your favor. 

So you nod your head and squeeze Tara’s hand as you accept his apology for the Woodsboro police failing you both. 

“We’ll be suing the police department,” Says your Father curtly, before Dewey can make his exit, “For gross negligence and endangering the life of my daughter.” 

You sigh. 

Tara cocks her head, as if she’s about to list off a variety of law firms she’s learned of through her extensive research before you squeeze her shoulder, and pull her back down to you. 

Your Mother huffs before you can say anything. 

“We’re not suing anybody,” Says your Mom firmly. She offers Dewey the smallest of smiles, “Thank you, Deputy Riley.”

“We should be suing the police,” Tara grumbles later, when she’s helping you into the back of Sam’s car. 

You’d be discharged by a happy Nurse Dawson. Your Mom and Dad would stay a little longer in the hospital while you slept over at Tara’s for a few nights. 

Hospitals give you the creeps, and you didn’t want to spend any more time there than necessary. 

Tara slips your seatbelt around your waist and you pull her in for a brief kiss. 

“What’s all that about not looking a gift horse in the mouth?” You say quietly as Sam slips into the drivers seat and Tara falls quiet. 

Your stomach is still a little sore - you feel it now as Tara and Sam help you up the staircase to her bedroom. 

“Watch it Sam, you neanderthal,” Tara snaps as Sam almost steps on your foot as they're half-carrying you to bed. 

You scold her if you had the strength. Instead, you focus all your energy into trying not to focus on the searing pain in your side as Tara slips you into her sheets. 

“Sorry, YN,” Sam says quietly before Tara shoos her out. 

You’re sweating a little, gone is the morphine. Nurse Dawson had put you on something else - something a little less addictive, and a little more prone to letting the pain in. 

You groan as Tara slides into the spot next to you, soothing your pain with the press of her lips. 

“Does it hurt, baby?” She asks, brown eyes mournful, “Do you want me to get you your pills?” 

You shake your head. 

The pain stings, like a dull ache, but it doesn’t hurt so much you need more. You touch her arm, nestle yourself into her side. 

“Just stay with me and I’ll be fine,” You say, as she curls her arm around your waist. She leans down and places a protective kiss to the top of your head. 

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” She admits, softly. You lean up and she presses the softest kiss to your lips, “Do you want me to see if Chad can get you something stronger?” 

“No babe,” You chide, gently, “I’m fine.” 

Tara thinks. 

“Do you want me to go down on you?” She asks, hopeful, “That might make you feel better.” 

You laugh. 

“Might make me feel better, or you feel better?” You ask. 

“Both,” She says with a pout. 

You lean up to her, press another warm kiss to her lips.

“Just stay with me,” You say, “As long as you’re here I’ll be fine.” 

Tara rubs her hand along the stretch of your back. 

“Okay,” She says, voice soft, “I’ll just stay here with you.”

[virq-qgo]

Can you give please do SFW and NSFW alphabet head canons for Logan (Wolverine)

Hi!! I am so sorry that it took me this long to finish..! I’ve actually never heard of alphabet head cannons so I had to find some templates and couldn’t find an SFW so please forgive me 🙁🙏 I would also like to apologize that I’m terrible at making head cannons, because I don’t have the mindset of that.. so this will probably be my first and last time I’ll do this 😞

Requests are still open ❤️

Warnings: smut, fem reader, my writing, not proof read obvi.. I also kinda rushed the end so I’m sorry 😢

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very caring, now matter how old he is gets. Logan will make sure to give you the best treatment of your life. Literally the definition of princess treatment.

After getting the dick pounded out of you, with all of these marks on your poor worn out body. Logan will kiss each mark then pick you up and carry you to the bathroom. Like nobody talks about it so i fucking will, Logan will sit you on the toilet and make sure you piss. Why? Your handsome lover wants you to be healthy! No UTIs or yeast infection for the princess (speaking from experience.) Then you both will have a very relaxing shower together before cuddling in bed!

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Logans favorite part of his body will probably be his chest, mainly his abs. He knows how much you love them, and how much you like doing other things with them. Not to mention he works hard for his body to look the way it does, it’s something everyone should be proud of.

Now realistically, Logan will tell you that he loves every single inch of you. Yknow how you ask your parents who’s the favorite sibling, they’ll tell you they love each and single one of you, but make it so obvious that they favor the other one. Yeah, this is how it is. Except yknow he loves your hips. With the way he always grabs them, either from moving you to the side or moving you when your leg get to sore from riding him. Logan just loves how they feel in his hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As a man would, Logan loves to fill your sweet pussy with his cum. And once in a while, cuming on your tits when he’s fucking his hand. But again, mainly you cunt. He’ll fill it up as much as he please and once you’re both finished, he loves to pull away and admire how much cum drips out of your hole and onto the bed. He loves his little stuffed donut.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Logan definitely fucked his hand when you were asleep, taking your dirty underwear from the floor and fucked that too. Not one of his proudest moments. But when your moaning his name and stirring in your sleep, he couldn’t help himself.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Bro is over 200 years old, please shoot me if you ever met someone who says that this man is a virgin. Because they are lying to you and themselves.

But that saying, in these 200 years, he’s had plenty of sexual partners. That means more experience and the better your pussy gets dicked down.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Logan loves when you’re on top of him. Why? Well, this is the perfect view for him. He loves the way your tits bounce and if you have small girls, he loves seeing them. He loves boobs, Logan is definitely a boob man! But he loves grabbing your hips and since he’s so much stronger than you, he moves your hips back and forth. Logan loves when your nails dig into his chest when you’re on top of him, and he LOVES watching your face while his dick is going deep into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is not silly turning sex, Logan finds this time most serious. Durning these moments, he completely loses himself and only focuses on you and your pleasure. So really, he has no time for goofiness, and too him, any man who’s goofy durning sex. A time where you solely focus on your lover and their needs. Is not a man, but a boy. Because every woman who’s being intimate with a man deserves to be treated like a queen.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Now you see the mans face and head, it’s nothing but hair. The whole guy is hairy, and if you’re not into hairy men. Well Logan is not for you. He grooms his face and hair but leaves everything untouched because it’s just so unnecessary to him. That being said, he has never trimmed downstairs, and won’t plan to. Plus he knows how much you’re into that thick happy trail of his.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Logan during intimacy is very loving, he finds the moment where they’re but so vulnerable towards each other. Logan finds being intimate a very serious thing.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

If you aren’t around then yes, he needs to find a way to relieve his boner. Just the thought of you makes him so unbelievably hard. So when you’re away and he thinks of you, he can’t help himself. I like to believe that you guys have toys in the bedroom, so he definitely uses your vibrators to get done.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

So, bud definitely has a few!! Like I said in previous, he loves your boobs, that being said he’s definitely into Breast play. His hands will always be on your boobs, playing with your nipples, sucking on your nipples. Marking them up.

Another one Logan has is orgasm play, now I feel like that he will only do this when you’re not “behaving” such as making him jealous, purposefully pissing him off, yada yada you get the jist. Logan will make sure you sexy time is one of the most miserable times for you, basically saying that you don’t get to cum, he’ll drag it out on and on until he feels like you deserve it.

I am a firm believer that Logan will steal your panties from the night before. He knows where he threw them at while ripping them off you, he knows just how wet they were during that time. So obviously, he’s gonna use them to jerk himself off.

Finally, one of the last ones Logan has it’s degrading. Either he’s degrading or you, he’s so into it. Especially during a rough night, he loves to call you his dirty slut, his slutty little girl. The famous “you’re such a fucking cumslut, wanting me to always fill the tight pussy of yours up. Don’t worry, I’ll fill it up, so nice and full.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Whenever he gets hard, Logan will drag you to a closed off space and pull your pants to your to your knees, and push your panties to the side. He doesn’t care, he’ll take you right then and there. Logan is just always so horny for you, but can you blame him? His girlfriend is so fucking hot.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Boobs, your boobs to be exact.

Show a little bit of cleavage, well sister. You better be ready for the outcome. Logan will make it so obvious that he’s staring. It’s kinda embarrassing, especially when you’re around other people.

Another thing that gets him going is when you talk back to people, putting them in their place. He finds the bossy and demanding side of you so fucking sexy. He sometimes acts bratty just to see that side of you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that will physically harm you, he doesnt care if you’re into it. It’s a big no. He also won’t share, so no threesomes. He finds it’s disrespectful and a little hurtful that you’ll want another person into the game, making him think that he’s not giving you enough or not making you feel good.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Definitely depends on his mood or day.. but mainly I think he likes to focus on your pleasure, so he’ll definitely eat you out. Especially when he’s pissed off with something, he just wants to bury his head into your thighs and eat his meal.

But he also loves when you give him head, he asks for it almost all the time. It’s the best thing ever, just to feel how talented you are with your tongue and mouth.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Logan definitely goes fast and rough, it’s how you like it too. The both of you think it’s the best way to do it, especially since Logan has so much stamina and strength. The way his cock hits all the way back.

But of course, there are times where you guys take it slow. Showing to each other just how much you truly love one another.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He loves them, when you both are horny but don’t have the time to take your time. It’s super convenient. He doesn’t care where or what time it is, he will pull down your pants and fuck you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I don’t think he’s cares all too much about being risky. As long as he knows he’s in a spot with you that no one will see, you two will be fine.

You see, he doesn’t care if anyone saw him fucking you. He just knows that your worried people will see, so he takes cover for you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Logan can probably go as many as five, I know once he fucks you till his balls are quite literally empty and can’t go anymore because he’s too sensitive. That’s when you take you chance because that when he’s gets all subby. Enjoy your time 😉

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes!! He loves using toys just to be mean to you, he knows your favorite vibrator, sets in on the highest setting and places it directly on your clit, enjoying the way your hips flinch back.

Logan also likes using toys on himself, especially fleshlights that feel exactly like you. Or using your vibrator on himself.

Overall, toys are a big yes!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Logan loves to tease you, when it comes to public and barely touching you in your most sensitive areas or sending you dirty texts. (I am a firm believer that he would send you dick picks or send you pictures of his abs, flaunting the v-line you love so much.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His sounds are quiet but loud enough for you to hear, he moans in your ear when he’s on top of you. Or when you’re on top of him, he lets out small quieter moans. Logan gets louder when he’s closing to cumming too.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Logan’s favorite outfit on you that will get him so unbelievably horny is a pair of sweats and a tight shirt. Gets him so hard, and an instant way to get nutted in.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Okay, let’s be so for real..

Logan ripped, we know what the v-line is like! We all know that he’s hairy downstairs, but you don’t care. Because all what matters is that dick serves you good.

Logan is more of a grower than a shower. When he’s hard, he grows to be 7 to 8 inches. He’s not that thick, but big enough to stretch that pussy out!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I guess it all depends on his mood and how he feels. Logan overall can have sex anytime he wants. He’s your horndog after all.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

He’s not that quick to fall asleep, he’ll stay in bed with you while you both cuddle each other and chat. After sex, the both of you take your time lay down and relax, feeling each others skin and heartbeat. This is a very relaxing time together.

[little-cereal-draws]

@nonbinarylocalcryptid has put this au in my head so here are some headcanons for Odysseus adopting Astyanax instead of killing him

When Odysseus finally gets home, Astyanax is ten and Telemachus is twenty, about to turn twenty one

Astyanax is incredibly furiously jealous of Telemachus. He doesn’t know who this guy is or why Odysseus is so obsessed with him. He isn’t used to having to share his dad’s attention

He tries to come up w ways of getting Odysseus to focus only on him but he’s never successful. Either he gets in trouble for doing smth bad or he tries to start a game and it gets turned into a whole family activity

He gives up after a few weeks and sulks by himself exploring the palace and city. Odysseus eventually finds him and they have some much needed one on one time. Astyanax is ecstatic

Telemachus is incredibly furiously jealous of Astyanax. He doesn’t know who this kid is or why Odysseus is so obsessed with him. He isn’t used to having to share his dad’s attention

Him and Odysseus are trying to make up for lost time and Astyanax keeps bursting in and being super annoying. He’s so glad every time Odysseus shoos him away. He desperately needs this one on one time

Astyanax isn’t sure abt Penelope. She’s very nice, makes an effort to connect to him, and Odysseus hasn’t stopped raving abt her for as long as he can remember. But hearing abt someone in a story is different from actually meeting them. She a total stranger. He warms up to her after a while but for the first month or so, he’s very shy and apprehensive around her

He doesn’t consider her his mom tho, only Odysseus’ wife. He used to think calypso was his mom (she would be the first woman he would be old enough to remember and they lived w her for most of his life) but now he’s content to not have a mom. He only needs his dad anyway

After about a year or so, both Astyanax and Telemachus begrudgingly accept that they’ll have to share Odysseus. They’re both not thrilled abt it but they’re not angry anymore either

Telemachus is a self sufficient adult at this point and spends a lot of time doing his own thing. He’ll go on trips, go hunting, attend his parents’ court, try to woo maidens, debate policy and philosophy w the advisors (which can get pretty complicated when his parents join; his dad especially loves having battles of wits), etc

Astyanax is a preteen and very curious abt what Telemachus is getting up to and what the adult life of a prince is like. He followed him secretly at first but quickly got found out. Telemachus thought it was kinda weird at first but then was a little flattered

He started letting Astyanax accompany him (to an extent. Long trips and wooing maidens are off limits lol). But he’ll take him to court, on quick trips, to his fighting lessons, to intellectual debates, etc.

Penelope isn’t so sure but Odysseus is adamant that learning by experience is just as valuable as structured lessons and they should just be happy that they’re finally getting along lol

The only part he has a problem w is the trips. He’s already anxious when Telemachus leaves on his own but when he takes Astyanax too… The thought of potentially losing both his sons, them taking years to return, or them being harassed by the gods eats him alive. It’s terrible to watch. He doesn’t eat, barely sleeps, doesn’t do any work. The only thing he does is sit by the door to the palace and wait for them to come back. Not even Penelope can soothe him

It’s worse when they go on a boat. Even if they’re only taking a one day trip to the city next over, he’s literally shaking w stress. Instead of sitting by the door, he’ll sit in Poseidon’s temple and do nothing but pray for their safe passage, not stopping at all for food or sleep

Telemachus has offered to leave Astyanax so he feels a bit better but he insists that he’s fine. It’s more important that the two of them bond, form good relations w their neighbors that will benefit them when they’re the king, and become more worldly. He’s fine. He swears it. He’s fine

Telemachus has taught Astyanax how to shoot a bow, how to track animals, how to identify plants, and how to basically do anything that doesn’t involve living on a boat lol

They’ll spar too. Astyanax is much better than Telemachus was at his age and Telemachus is a little jealous abt it. If he didn’t win anyway bc he’s bigger and stronger, he definitely would be angry

It’s weird tho bc he’ll be like “how did you learn that move? It was super advanced." And Astyanax will just casually be like “dad taught me after we fought a harpy.” And Telemachus is reminded that this kid has spent more time w his dad than he has. He never got to have his dad teach him how to fight but this other kid did. It’s not fair. He pushes it deep down and ignores it

Astyanax is aware of what happened to his biological family. Odysseus told him when he was eight. He was a teary mess, barely able to get the story out, but Astyanax wasn’t distraught like Odysseus expected. Astyanax was quiet for a long time, thinking, then went off on his own for a while but by the time it was night, he seemed to have moved pass it

He didn’t remember that family so he wasn’t very upset. He definitely thought it was messed up that he was taken in by the enemy that killed his whole family and destroyed his city but Odysseus was nice and it beat being killed too so he wasn’t complaining

Sometimes he’ll lay awake and wonder what his life would’ve been like if he had grown up in Troy tho. How his biological dad would’ve raised him. How different his life would’ve been if he hadn’t been constantly moving around and fighting for his life. As a kid, he can’t even begin to imagine what that would feel like bc he’s never known it. But by the time he’s grown, it’s different

Telemachus is on the throne now; Odysseus retired and just hangs around now. There are rumors that he's gone mad and even tho it's 100% false, he does nothing to stop the rumors bc he thinks it's funny and likes to mess w ppl

Astyanax is in his mid to late twenties now and he's feeling like he doesn't belong in Ithaca. He looks different from the rest of his family, he's got a much darker and complicated past than most of them, and every time they talk abt war in the court he can't help but get angry and closed off

Tho to Telemachus' credit he's a very fair king and does his best to avoid war and getting involved in other people's wars. That's how he lost his dad for so long and he's not making Ithaca go through smth like that again

Astyanax decides that he needs to see Troy. What's left of it, any new civilizations that replaced it, anything he can find. He's a little worried about the trip across the sea but figures if he did it once before, he can do it again

There's nothing when he gets there. Most of the wood has rotted and the ground is black and charred. He can walk the Greek camp based off the burnt fire pits, the tent peg holes in the earth, and the rotted outlines of the thick wall. The field in between the camp and Troy is littered with swords, spears, arrows, shields, and the occasional chariot wheel. Troy is a ghost town. The only thing left are the great walls. The inside is baren and empty

When he returns, he's furious. His "dad" destroyed his entire civilization. Except for him, no mercy was shown. It was a horrible, monstrous thing to do. (He's forgotten the memory of how much Odysseus cried telling him what he did)

He goes off on Odysseus. Odysseus is partly resigned (he knew this day was coming and he’s in the wrong) but he’s still a stubborn ass who resorts to violence instead of talking things out so the fight gets pretty explosive. It stays an argument but only just barely

They both have swords in their hands when Telemachus comes in. He tries to talk them down and pretends he doesn’t know what the fight is abt even tho the whole palace can hear them yelling

Astyanax asks for Odysseus to be executed, banished, or otherwise punished in someway. Telemachus won’t do it. Astyanax is furious that he’s not taking his side. Telemachus didn’t see what he saw. He didn’t lose his whole family and get kidnapped by the man who murdered them. He has no idea how it feels to have your whole world flipped on its head

Astyanax debates fighting both Odysseus and Telemachus but decides against it. He storms out, gets on a boat, and goes back to Troy. He wanders around there for a while until he finds a civilization to join

Years go by. Odysseus dies, Telemachus has his own kids and grandkids. His hair is starting to go gray. Then one day a messenger runs in announcing the approach of a foreign army

Telemachus runs out to see the threat and a fleet of twelve boats is abt to enter Ithaca’s harbor. At the prow of the biggest one is Astyanax, torch in hand. He’s going to burn Ithaca like they burnt Troy

The prophecy is fulfilled

[its-time-to-write]

Hi there!! I absolutely adore your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a little something about Jamie being your guest to a wedding?? Just something sweet and fluffy because I feel like he’d be a spectacular wedding date. Love you!!

Here you go! Haven’t been able to write as much this week, I had finals and in between tests and papers, I’ve been pretty much living at the doctor’s. My brain is feeling a little fried, so I hope this is a coherent fic because I’ve tried to proofread a bunch and it all just looks like squiggles to me, so… anon, if you read this, send me your honest feedback in my inbox. Love ya!🍊💚

i’m glad you exist

“What’s this?” Jamie asks from his position on your kitchen island. 

You glance up from the stove. “What’s what?” 

He holds up an envelope rimmed in gold. 

“Oh, that’s an invite to my old roommate’s wedding. Remember I told you about her? Calls everyone ‘queen?’”

Jamie’s face shows recognition. “Right, yeah, she the one dating that motivational speaker?”

You laugh. “Yeah, they got together a month after I met her. He lived one floor down. Anyway, their wedding’s in a few months so I left the invitation out so I’d remember to RSVP.”

Jamie’s engrossed in the details on the invitation. “Says you can bring a plus one.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “probably won’t though. It’s back home, so, it’s not just a weekend-type deal. My mom and dad want me to come stay for like a week and a half.” You turn back to the stove and narrowly avoid burning the food. “You like your dinner a little crispy, right?”

“Babe,” Jamie says slowly, “you stayin’ with your parents?”

“Nah,” you say, transferring the food onto plates, “too crowded. And loud. My mom always has all the grandkids over all the time.” Your older sister has two kids, and your older brother has three. “She offered, but I told her I’d just get an AirBnB or something.”

“Y’know,” he says, taking the plates and moving to the table, “it’s on the off season. Don’t have any branding deals that week either.”

“Jamie,” you begin, a smile beginning to spread across your face, “are you offering to go to this wedding with me? And meet my parents?”

Jamie shrugs nonchalantly. 

“You are!” you say gleefully, “Oh my god, my mom is going to lose her mind. You know she absolutely loves you, right? She talks about their trip out here all the time. And this time you can meet my whole family, like my sister and her husband, they’re definitely my favorite because my niece and I have the same middle name. Plus my brother is always busy with work and his wife is cool, I guess, but we don’t have a lot in common? Except one time we watched High School Musical together, and she knew all the dances and all the words! It was crazy. And we’ll definitely have to go to the beach, do you know how to surf-?”

You ramble on happily as Jamie just grins at you, digging into his food. 

—

It’s wedding week, and your dad picks you up from the airport. You and Jamie are on your way to your parents’ house before checking into your own house and you’re confident that most of your family is going to be there. Your parents are the only ones who have met Jamie in person, and right now your dad and Jamie are in the front of the car chatting on about who knows what. You just know you’re tired, and you’re grateful that your dad picked you up a coffee. You’re probably going to steal Jamie’s too, because he does not need more energy and yours is gone way too quick. It’s nice to be home. The sun is shining, and the streets are familiar. You’re looking forward to seeing your old friends, and showing off your gorgeous footballer boyfriend.

They’d all heard about him of course, and were more than thrilled that you had finally found someone who actually liked being around you. That sounds terrible. You’re not annoying. You just have a habit of being with men who see you as a chore, not for the wonderful person you are. The person Jamie sees you to be.

You’re pulling into the driveway, and just as you suspected, the entire family is there. You notice your brother’s Range Rover and your sister’s Jeep. You smile to yourself. How very like them.

You hop out of the car, grab Jamie’s hand, and the door is open before you even make it all the way up to it. Your mom’s arms are open for a hug which you reach for except she turns away at the last moment and hugs Jamie first?

“Mom!” you say, laughing, “I’m your literal daughter and I haven’t seen you in forever!”

She smiles and pinches Jamie’s cheek. “I’ve spent more time with you than with him. You’ll survive.”

She wraps you in a warm hug then says, “Come meet the family, Jamie! And you’re staying for dinner. You can get to your house after you’ve taken a break.”

You shake your head and Jamie just grins. Poor boy has no idea what he’s getting himself into.

—

Jamie was thoroughly interrogated by your family, including your nieces and nephews (“Why do you call it football instead of soccer? Did you bring us candy?”). You’re both so exhausted that as soon as you walk through the door of your AirBnB, you collapse onto the bed, fully clothed.

—

It’s the day of the wedding, and you’re stressed. You’d been fine until the exact moment that you and Jamie began walking up to the venue. Everything is fine, you’re walking hand-in-hand, but then you just stop. 

“Jamie,” you say, tugging on his hand, “Jamie I can’t do this.”

He turns to you in surprise. “What d’you mean you can’t do this?” 

“I mean, it’s a lot of people I haven’t seen in forever and I don’t know, I’m just freaking out.”

Jamie laughs of all things. “Babe, it’s all right. Look, you’re with me, yeah? And I’m fucking amazin’. And you’re fucking amazin’. So whatever you’re worried about, ain’t a problem.”

Sometimes you forget how cocky Jamie can be. And how much it can boost your confidence. 

You blow out a breath. “Thanks babe. You’re right, it’ll be fine.”

—

It was more than fine. Like, way more than fine. Your friend looked lovely, and she was overjoyed to see you, and Jamie was the absolute best. He befriended your entire table and insisted you dance with him for every song. He was weirdly good at it, too. 

“It’s all in the hips, babe,” he said.

It definitely was.

Your favorite part, though, is the last dance. 

It’s a slow song, and the only people left were couples. The bride and groom had left, sneaked out a back door because she hated send-offs, so everything was winding down. 

Jamie has your hands in his, and brings them to loop around his neck.

“You alright?” he whispers. You nod. “Good,” he says, voice still low. “Wanted to make sure you had a good time. I fucking love weddings. The dancing, the food… you.” He grins and you smile back. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Not sure I mentioned it earlier.”

You’re blushing now, swaying to the music as his hands circle your waist.

You say, “Thanks for coming with me, Jaim. I don’t think I would’ve had as much fun without you.”

Your hands are on the sides of his face now, thumbs tracing his cheekbones.

You lean up to kiss him and right before you do he whispers, “Gonna be us someday, yeah?”

You forget how to breathe for a moment, opting to nod instead.

Jamie smiles, and leans down to finish what you started. 

[copperbadge]

Having ADHD and Being A Little Punk Rock

So....a huge amount of the discourse on Tumblr around neurodiversity generally is just venting. Which is good, it’s good to vent and Tumblr is a good place for it. And I know that often, when venting, the LAST thing you want to hear is someone trying to offer help or solutions. So generally I keep my mouth shut unless someone is speaking to me specifically. 

But a while back I saw someone asking (rhetorically) about what people with ADHD wish their parents had known, and I had a lot of thoughts about that which I started jotting down. Reading the various ADHD tags, I also see a lot of teens and twentysomethings with ADHD who visibly have no coping mechanisms and no way of creating them. I don’t blame the kids, and it’s not some kind of personal failing on their part; they’re young, and nobody has taught them. But I look at them and I think, A little sideways thinking would help you out so much. Then, recently, I got an ask (thank you for the permission not to respond directly) that was full of feelings about not being able to process or communicate well, and feeling a lot of negative emotions because of it. 

So, maybe it’s time to just throw this out there. I want to offer some advice as Fandom Dad with forty-three years of being neurodiverse and exactly seven months of actually being aware I was neurodiverse. Which for once is actually going to be pretty helpful! Because I looked at the world and I assumed my own neurotypicality and I thought, well, okay, but fuck all that.

Allow me to explain.  

I think this can apply to a number of ways in which people are neurodiverse, but I have ADHD so that’s what I’m really speaking to here. With ADHD, there’s medication, and I strongly urge people to explore that option because medication is awesome when it works. But there’s also a lot out there about how to try harder, or trick yourself into doing something in a very neurotypical way, or use systems that may not work for you. I know; I tried some too, and the sense of failure, the sense of being an ongoing failure, is terrible. So I want to offer an alternative which has helped me a great deal, and may help other people with ADHD, particularly younger people. 

People of any age, but especially young people who have ADHD, should be made aware that it’s okay to suck at things, to struggle, and to fail. Even if you think you should be good at something, even if everyone around you thinks so too, it’s okay to just be garbage at it and to acknowledge that fact. But just saying “well I’m dumb and can’t do this” of course isn’t actually helpful, and harms you a great deal, because you are a living person with feelings and if you’re self-aware enough to notice, you’re also too smart to be calling yourself dumb. Acknowledging that you’re bad at something, and even acknowledging that you’d like to succeed at it, is only part one of figuring life out.

Part two is deciding what to do about it, and more importantly, how. 

I was always told I was smart, but I was told “You’re smart so you should be able to do this”, not “You’re smart, so let’s come up with a way around this.” I don’t think many people are encouraged to explore why they are bad at something, to understand their own brains and thought processes which cause them to struggle.

Decades before I knew I had ADHD, I had to figure out that one of life’s most important skills is not being able to creatively solve problems but to recognize when you have to. Anyone can sit around and come up with three or four ways to solve a problem, but it’s not actually often taught that you should also be aware of when this is needed. Often, when faced with a problem that is difficult to solve, we’re taught that our reaction should be the socially approved “I just need to try harder”. Sometimes that’s true, but usually it’s not.  

More often, when we feel that instinct, especially as people with ADHD, we should say instead, “I’m not going to try harder, that’s bullshit. I’m trying already. I’m going to find another way to solve this problem.” Trying harder doesn’t work, after all, when your own brain is fighting you.

So you stop and think, if there were no rules to the world, how could I do this? You don’t have to work smarter; a lot of my solutions could reasonably be described as “work dumber”. The point is to work differently in a way that helps you specifically. 

Stop trying to remember to take your keys when you leave the house and get a lanyard and hang them on the doorknob; if you lose them a lot, hang the lanyard around your neck when you leave the house. 

Stop pretending you’ll remember to scoop the litterbox every night and set an alarm that tells you to do it. Or don’t, that works for me but might not for you! Maybe you have to put the litterbox somewhere you’ll see it right before bed (I ALSO do this for the days I turn off the alarm and then promptly forget it happened). 

There are phone charging cords in every room of my home so that I never run down my phone battery, something that is mildly inconvenient to have happen but deeply anxiety-inducing to think about for me. And now I never worry.

The point is, don’t ask how you can do better at something, ask how you can make something easier for you.

Even rewiring your brain to ask the question is a learned skill, though. You have to consciously stop when you find something is fighting you and consciously think, how can this be easier for my specific brain? If we assume I am not stupid but am in fact fighting an invisible monster, how do I make the monster visible? 

Life became roughly 60% easier for me when I started thinking this way. Of all the tips for time management and list making and organizing and de-organizing you can try and implement, none of that is necessary if you know how to ask yourself, “How do I do this differently?” and come up with alternatives that suit your brain. 

Especially with neurodivergence, there’s no “one size fits all” when it comes to handling it, neurologically or emotionally. So I think that it’s important to be a little bit punk rock. Not necessarily in the way of defying authority but in the way of defying convention -- the ability to say “fuck you” to the Way Things Are Done and do one’s own thing is very liberating and healthy. You lose a lot of the benefits of creative problem solving if you’re also ashamed of the solutions. So I think the best trick I know of to succeed despite unmedicated ADHD is just to say “fuck you, there must be an easier way to do this.” 

I’m garbage at cleaning my home (I can say that because I’m not only calling myself garbage, I’m using “I’m bad at this” as a stepping stone to solving the problem, and then I no longer feel like garbage and can joke about it with a healthy ego). I vacuum regularly and do the dishes and such but like...I don’t scrub the floors or dust or wash out the bathtub. That’s part of why I do November Cleaning -- so that at least once a year those things, that I never want to do but always think I should do, get done, but only have to be done once and at a specific designated time. So now if the bathroom floor is a bit grimy in the corners I just think, “Ah -- that’s for November” and add it to my November Cleaning list. 

For my friend who struggles with communication, which is something I also used to really struggle with (and still do in some ways), one of my “make stuff easier” techniques for this was simply to...tell people.

“Hey, I tend to talk really fast when I get excited, so please tell me if I need to slow down.” 

“Sorry, I have some hearing issues, I may ask you to repeat something -- it’s fine just to do it slower, I don’t need louder.” 

“I’m upset and struggling, I need a minute.” (or even just “Hey where’s the bathroom?” so you can sit quietly for a moment and gather your thoughts. If you’re too upset to talk, it also helps to type them out, which I often do.) 

If someone tells me something I want to remember, I’ll get out my phone and say “Sorry, I’m still listening, but I want to write that down so I won’t forget it.” I do all my writing-things-down in Google Tasks, then once I’m somewhere quiet and private I review the notes and move stuff that isn’t actually “to do” to another list. Sometimes I’ll tell someone “I’m so sorry, you just said something and I totally missed it, but it’s important to me -- can you repeat it?” 

Most people find that kind of honesty, where you’re open about why you’re maybe talking at cross-purposes, really charming. It indicates that you think they are important, and you’re putting in effort to hear what they’re saying and respond to it thoughtfully.  

I hope this is helpful in finding ways around some basic problems, rather than through them -- that being able to stop and think “This could be easier -- how?” is something that people can internalize and make use of. Going around a mountain rather than through it might look like it’ll take more time and energy, but it beats trying to punch through granite the whole way there. 

[hana-no-seiiki]

can we get to know the perverted faculty in midnight darling?

hoo boy. i was gonna make it a stretch goal to include each and every subject mc might get as a biology major in the philippines but have the named ones for now.

warnings: homophobic society, inappropriate teacher/student relationships, age gap, infidelity/adultery, ageism, voyeurism/exhibitionism, sexual and typical yandere themes. dark content. this is a lot smuttier than all of my previous headcannons oh god.

[previous part] — yandere bad boy/jock, good girl, nerd and president.

YANDERE COLLEGE! FACULTY! X POPULAR GIRL! READER [PANGALAWANG YUGTO / SECOND PART]

ELOISE MORIN - PHYSICS TEACHER

✎ Eloise Morin was always drawn to you. You stuck out like sore thumb in her long list of faces she had to memorize every year and was the only time she ever broke a rule. The rule being to never fall in love with one of her students.

✎ It all started with the pairing of her sister, Ella Morin (The Emo! Kid) with you in order to break her out of her shell. The other faculty members seemed to trust you, and you had perfect grades.

✎ Sometimes your harem regrets always cleaning your record with how much the professors called upon you for tasks, thus reducing your time with them.

✎ And it worked, Ella’s grades improved and the sisters’s home life was better. They started actually talking during meals. She just seemed so much happier.

✎ Eloise soon found out it wasn’t because you were friends, it was moreso that you’d relieve Ella of stress when she acted to your whims.

✎ The woman could never forget the time she caught you eating out her little sister after a study session. In her own damn home.

✎ She was confused. Any responsible teacher and guardian would put a stop to this, right? But she found herself welcoming you in every time. Ignoring your disheveled look after ‘hanging out’ with Ella. Always treating you well so you’d be incentivized to come again and again into her home.

✎ So she can watch you defiling her baby sister as she touched herself to sounds of your moans.

✎Her horny levels are pretty terrible for an adult. Eloise was brought up to be a stout, pious woman. Never to have any sexual relations before marriage, much less the same gender. She was never attracted to the men around her and through you she finally knew why.

✎ She has yet to explore her likes and dislikes but what she does know is that merely seeing you gets her absolutely dripping in arousal. She fantasizes day in and out about what you could do to her and where you could do it.

✎On her sister’s bed? The Kitchen counter as she cooked dinner for you whenever you stayed for the night? In front of the class as she teaches? On the desk of that damn principal that kept creeping on you?

✎The only thing stopping her from pouncing on you is guilt. Guilt that she’s attracted to a person much younger than her. A woman no less. What would her parents think? Sure, they’re dead. But Eloise can still imagine the disappointment they’d show if she gave into these lustful urges.

✎What Popular! Reader thinks of her : Like many of your teachers and fellow students. You see her as a means to an end. However, unlike the rest of them, Eloise does interest you the most. You’re waiting to see the moment she snaps. Ready to taint her with your colors.

AMELIA YORKSHIRE - LINGUISTICS TEACHER

✎ Amelia is the eldest teacher in the staff list. She’s a triple divorcee with a child from each husband.

✎ She craves male approval and used to work with Ricardo to bring you down a peg. Before you came in, she was known to harass her male students and show a little too much skin that it was unprofessional at best.

✎ She quickly switched to the other side after a private one-on-one exam with you.

✎ Not only did you get a perfect score in that test, you also managed to give her a better orgasm than all her husbands combined.

✎Also uses her family to get you closer. This time more intentionally. C’mon don’t you just love children? Aren’t hers the cutest?

✎She doesn’t make it discreet when it comes to her more perverted side. Often shoving her cleavage to your face when in class.

✎Tried using another student to make you jealous and that only made you turned off.

✎Is currently desperately trying to earn your attention back. At this point she might as well wear nothing to school.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of her: You aren’t the type to slut shame. That would be quite hypocritical of you to do. But a professor obviously perving on her students was kind of baffling. She left little to the imagination, so after your first romp with Amelia you basically never touched her again. Unknowingly making her obsession worse.

✎ Hers was a minor subject anyways, so you didn’t put that much effort into humoring her. She was a great fuck though.

MARX ESGUERRA - BIOLOGY TEACHER

✎ Now Marx was a different story entirely. Unlike your more lowkey teasing with Eloise and disinterest with Amelia. It was well-known throughout the campus of your interest with the Biology teacher.

✎ It took a while to get into his pants. Marx was known to be even worse than Eloise when it came to how strict he was with himself and his students. He was teaching a new generation of healthcare workers after all.

✎ At least that’s what you thought. You didn’t realize it was because he was studying the best way to approach you.

✎ Marx thought of you of you as perfect. He knew what he wanted and what he wanted was for you to stay by his side. Permanently. He didn’t want a shallow connection like you had with Amelia and Justin.

✎ A perfect student like you deserved a perfect relationship from start to finish. And he’ll make sure to give you that.

✎ He expects you to be completely immaculate. He has an image of you that you have to follow. He’ll drill it into your mind if he has to. A perfect man needs a perfect spouse. He’ll never settle for less. He’ll wipe all those filthy hook-ups you’ve made from history. Besides you were just practicing for him, were you not? The rumors about your supposed interest in him do no good to stifle his delusions.

✎ He bumps your grades just a little bit after your dalliances to give the impression that he definitely does not want you just for the sex.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of him: A total snob. But you do what you must to gain perfect grades and better opportunities for yourself. Even if it means sleeping with that narcissistic man that kept staring holes into your body.

DANIEL CRUZ - THE PRINCIPAL

✎ This man is the very definition of corrupt. He knows of every dirty little secret that has happened in the school grounds and beyond and gets paid handsomely to hide that.

✎ Thus, he’s great at hiding your little relationship with him. From the school and his older wife.

✎ You were his secret as much as he was yours.

✎ You were just so much more beautiful, younger, tighter, than that stupid woman. He only wanted her when he was younger because she looked hot back then but age wasn’t so kind. After she got pregnant with his children she started showing signs of being grotesque so he often brought home other women to their marital bed. He just couldn’t get it hard with her for the life of him.

✎The wife is unfortunately used to his ways.

✎ Ever since you though, she noticed how he brought home less and less different women. Up until it was just you. She didn’t know if it was a relief or a more terrible sign that he’d actually fallen in love with a sidepiece.

✎ She didn’t know how to feel whenever you exited her own room after a night with her husband. A sorry look on your pretty features gave her a mix of anger for you pitying her and relief that whatever her husband felt, at least it wasn’t reciprocated.

✎ Other than his wife and perhaps even children (oh god) however, no one knows of your relationship with him. Not even Ricardo and he knows the most about you.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of him: Despite what many thought of you, you viewed marriage as sacred. You only ‘cheated’ on Justin because you didn’t want him to get killed. Once a promise is made it best be kept and treasured.

✎ And Daniel broke the most beautiful promise of them all.

✎ He’s one of the few people you actually strongly felt for. Unfortunately for him, it’s disdain.

A/N : This is the most filthiest thing I’ve written on this blog so far. I need to take a bath of holy water after this.

[rainylana]

Patty Munson

note: a potential series if you guys want it! so please, let me know your thoughts and if you like my version of eddie’s daughter, named after pat benatar!

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, single dad!eddie, and language.

Patty Munson was the exact replica of her dad. From her looks to her attitude, you knew she was the daughter of Eddie Munson. With curly, jet black hair and doe, brown eyes, she had a spit fire attitude that raised a brow with strangers.

She didn’t like her vegetables like him, either, but Eddie always made sure she ate them off her little plate. “Eat at least some of it, Patty.” He’d say.

She started cursing at four, and though Eddie tried to correct her when she’d say something inappropriate at the age of five, he always had a laugh about it when she wasn’t around.

“Look at this crazy bastard, daddy!” She had said, holding up a fish that Uncle Wayne had helped her catch. Wayne shook his head, laughing quickly behind her with a hand to her back, making sure she didn’t slip in the mud.

“Patricia.” He tried to keep his voice from shaking from a choked laugh. “What did I say about grown up words?”

She was an extremely stubborn child. She liked doing things herself, absolutely everything. She was a daredevil, another thing she’d gotten from him. She almost always threw a fit when she had to hold his hand when crossing the street. He had just began letting her get the mail down at the driveway by herself, and she was smiling widely the whole walk down there.

Her mom had left Patty to him after she’d delivered her, and Eddie hadn’t heard from her since. It was hard raising her alone, especially in the beginning, suffering from a broken heart. If it hadn’t been for Wayne and his friends, he surely would have crumbled.

She didn’t talk much about the fact she didn’t have a mom around, but Eddie knew one day she’d start asking questions. The idea of it made him sick to his stomach.

She liked her dad’s tattoos. She colored on some of them sometimes with markers. He had outlines, line work, of tattoos that “need pretty pink color, daddy.”.

When she was a baby, she pulled on his hair all the time. Never Steve’s or Nancy’s. Always dad’s. Eddie never had trouble with the terrible two’s, however three was a particular rough age. She was sick a lot then. Nothing serious, but it always seemed she had a cold or some sort of allergy. He took of work a lot during that time and lost money he didn’t have to loose, but he made it work. He quickly learned that as a parent, you somehow always found a way to manage. It was a superpower.

She was a good kid. She didn’t cry much as a baby, and when she does cry, it’s usually when she’s tired. She hates naps, but anytime she pouts and her lip pulls down, her eyes start to water and she stomps her foot, Eddie knows she’s ready to take a nap. He can almost always bribe her to lay down with reading a story to her.

Anytime she tries a new food, he always makes sure they’re at the parking lot of the hospital, paranoid you’re going to be allergic to something he’s given you. He also learned that being a parent takes years off your life. You’re scared all the time, yet you’ve never been happier. You love like you’ve never loved before. It was the most joyous, powerful thing he’d ever felt. Patty was the love of his life.

She always wants to go to work with dad. She doesn’t like school much. Yet another thing she got from Eddie. She’s good at her letters and numbers, has friends, but more often than not she’s being send home with a note about cursing in class or saying something out of turn.

Her first day of school was hard on both of them. She didn’t understand why dad couldn’t stay. He tried to make it seem like a playdate with all her friends, just a really long play date. He almost cried on the way home, hating the way she cried with her teacher when he left. It was like that everyday for the first week of school, becoming easier over time,

The first time Eddie punished her he could barely do it. He’d told her she couldn’t watch tv before bed. She’d gotten angry and cussed at him. He almost backed down, because it was his fault she learned the words anyways. But he stayed strong, though her tears tore him up on the inside, thinking that she would hate him forever. Another thing he learned, kids got over things quickly.

Patty and Eddie were best friends, two peas in a pod. They were the dictionary definition of father and daughter. He loved nothing more on planet earth than her, and he knew now, that his life finally had meaning.

[sen-ya]

You’ve drawn a little of it before, but what do you think Law and Luffy would be like as parents?

HOO BOY AH I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS ABOUT THIS

First and foremost law is absolutely smitten and takes to parenthood naturally. It’d be a little harder for Luffy I think depending on how young the kid is when said kid is Acquired. I think he’d really hit his stride after toddler-dom

I think both of them would talk to their kid like any adult pretty early, like in an age appropriate way but like if a question is asked it gets a real answer, if something’s going on they get an age appropriate description of it, a lot of the time they talk to them like pals. Idk if that makes sense but yknow

Luffy is fun parent yes but also is Emotionally Intelligent parent and ends up kind of unknowingly giving them a lot of tools early on for how to cope with big feelings. Low key watching Luffy teach a small human how to human helps Law see where and how he can grow emotionally and he becomes a better communicator.

They sing to them before bed every night when they’re little. Luffy is terrible. Law sounds really pretty. It’s a lot of fun.

I know languages in One Piece are like the equivalent of “everyone speaks common” but I like to think most islands have their own language of some sort. That’s all to say Law talks to their kid in Flevian and it just kind of spills out of him. At first it’s only when he’s alone with them, but then it becomes an absent-minded habit. This is how Luffy learns that Law even still knows Flevian. Their kid would end up fluent, and Luffy would try his darndest but really only be able to pick up a few phrases here and there.

Also in a wild turn of events after the initial anxiety of being a new parent evens out Law just kinda…..relaxes. Later in life he’d already been getting on board with Luffy’s antics, but now that there’s also a second person bouncing about with any of Luffy’s sensibilities it really is just easier to let it happen. He gets comfortable with knowing he can plan on the fly, and knowing that is a plan in itself.

When the kid is older and off on their own any time they all come back together as a family it is ON SIGHT with Luffy. This kid’s first order of business is “try to absolutely DEMOLISH my pops.” Law learns to be strategic with where they have their family meet ups, but sometimes it just happens that you’re minding your own business and then these two Monkeys are throwing hands and laughing their asses off

For family name they’d let the kid pick. In the case of the daughter they have in the one lil comic i posted Law swears they asked her when she was too young cuz she couldn’t say “Trafalgar” properly and he never lets it go

Honestly i could keep going but i will shut up and give u some doodles to finish it off

[creative-crybaby]

Birds of a Feather (Flock Together)

PAIRING: yan!timeskip!Kageyama Tobio x fem!reader

GENRE: smut | dark content (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: yandere themes, toxic friendship, nipple play, light manhandling, semi-public sex, creampie

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 6.6k

SUMMARY: What was supposed to be a helping hand became an unhealthy relationship when Kageyama mistakes your kindness for something more. All characters are 18+

@creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

Now that you think about it, you’ve always been too nice for your own good. 

Not that it’s your fault. Your parents raised you that way; show kindness to others whenever the opportunity presented itself. The limit of knowing when to stop never came up, opting to believe that your positive behaviour would be contagious. Wishful thinking, of course. You don’t blame your parents for those drawbacks—their boundless optimism, perhaps, but that’s all. 

You wished reality showed some mercy when slapping you across the face. Sooner, too, maybe. 

When you especially wished for a backbone, you were in your first year of high school, standing before your anxious friend after offering your help. You know her pretty well, having gone to the same middle school; your brain saw no reason to process possible consequences. (Not like you could ever predict your current outcome, anyway.) If anything, the muscle was too busy thinking about how the blonde’s spine would break eventually. No ill feelings behind the idea, but it doesn’t stop your brows from furrowing in guilt. 

You worried for Yachi, that’s all. And with her bent over at a 90° angle before you, a position you both seem familiar with, you couldn’t help but sigh. 

“Hey,” you began softly. The sheepish blonde didn’t budge, and it wasn’t until you said her name a bit louder did she tilt her head to peer up at you. “It’s no problem, okay? I’d be happy to help. Besides,” you quipped with a smile for good measure, and your classmate rose from her deep bow, though kept her position so you remained above her, “this could look good on a resumé, no?”

By now, Yachi’s posture returned to normal as she offered a nervous chuckle. “I guess you’re right. It’s just that those two can be a handful sometimes, especially with each other. I don’t want to put any stress on you.”

Your arms crossed as you arched a brow, considering the new volleyball manager’s words. “Then, how about I take care of one of them and you keep the other? It’ll be easier to help if you focus on one person’s struggles, and that way they won’t bicker all the time.” A small smile graced her lips as she pondered your idea, and you leaned forward curiously. “You make them sound like an old married couple. There’s no way they’re that bad, are they?”

Yachi’s eyes widened ever so slightly before she frantically shook her hands in front of her. 

“No, no, no!” she insisted, voice raising a bit more than probably intended. A few classmates paused their conversations to glance at you two; you waved them off apologetically. “I don’t mean to make them sound terrible or anything! It’s just that they care so much about their club that,” she paused, searching for the right words, “they can’t seem to focus on anything else.”

You hummed, head tilting in thought. A valid concern, but it was a drawback most teens had with studying. Not that you needed to remind Yachi: with keeping up with a team where she somewhat understands the sport, tutoring her teammates and keeping up with her schoolwork, stating the obvious may not put her at ease.

Instead, you grinned reassuringly, and light pink dusted across the blonde’s cheeks. “Nothing I can’t handle. I got this.”

It didn’t take long to find your tutee upon entering Class 1-3. Based on Yachi’s description, you were sure you’d seen him a few times in the hallway, a scowl seemingly stuck on his face. That expression remained as he stared at whatever was in his notebook. And with other students in the room tiptoeing as they passed his desk, you were even more sure that was who you were looking for. 

“Kageyama.” Despite your voice’s volume as you attempted to gain his attention, your tone carried its usual gentleness. It did the trick, his frown softening as his brows lowered to a neutral expression. Not as intimidating as his previous look, but you understood where Yachi’s hesitance came from as she tried to describe him. 

“You’re Yachi’s friend?” It sounded more like a statement than a question, but you nodded. He hummed. “What’s your name again?”

You are–were–kind, not a saint. The question irked you, having put effort into knowing who he is and how he worked to help him raise his grades. He can’t bother to remember your name? Surely, Yachi gave it to him.

There’s no need to get mad, you remembered. Reminded. Wired. It was just introductions; give him a chance. Give him as many as he’ll need to open up in his own way. Yachi said he wasn’t the best at communication. He’s trying. You were both trying.

You gave him your name with a smile.

The first lesson had more to do with diving deeper into his brain than helping him study. With only a summarized description to go by, you needed more information. 

Kageyama understood onomatopoeias better than imagery. Tone flew over his head while clear instructions prepared him for the journey ahead. Studying English and Japanese had their wins and losses. (Mostly the latter, though some battles must be lost to win the war.)

The next couple of sessions weren’t any different. You wondered if the environment distracted the setter, and while it didn’t appear that way, you suggested meeting up at the library. A minor improvement, though his brain’s wiring still wasn’t completely translated to you. 

Whenever you and Yachi sat together for lunch to update each other on the tutoring, you tossed in some enthusiasm in your tone as you promised her you were getting there. Following up was a back-and-forth of the blonde insisting that you could back out of the deal whenever and you assuring her that everything was going smoothly. (Can’t say “fine.” No one believes in fine anymore.)

Now, you observed the twitch of Kageyama’s eye as he glared at the graphs, angles and equations in his notebook. You didn’t blame him: not when you were slowly running out of methods to help him. 

As time passed, so did his patience. The ravenette slammed his notebook onto his desk with a groan, hands flying to slap his face, making you jump in your seat across from him. Other students flinched as they turned to face the commotion, whispering to one another before trying to look away. 

“This is a waste of my time,” Kageyama muttered. 

That makes two of us, a fleeting thought grumbled. You swatted it away, ignoring the tightening of your chest.

His glare trailed toward the window to his left, muttering about how he could be improving his technique—or rather, something more about a certain pipsqueak needing to work on his spikes. 

You hummed. “Tell me about volleyball.”

His gaze snapped to you, brows still furrowed, though curiosity replaced the aggression in his eyes. “What about it?”

“Whatever you want,” you shrugged, placing your pencil on the desk. “I only really know the basics of the sport, but there’s no use stressing yourself out over something you’re stuck on. Consider this a little break.”

A slight pout formed on his lips, either from hesitation or pondering where to begin. 

Kageyama lived and breathed volleyball. Not his words verbatim, but his rambling told you as such. He knew his strengths and his weaknesses (even if he’d rather not discuss them), and his irritation toward his teammate sounded like complaints on the surface. Still, it came from high expectations and confidence in the ginger’s potential, and it wasn’t until he rambled on about A passes and C passes did a light flick in your brain. 

“There it is!” you exclaimed, a grin tugging the corners of your lips. You slid the notebook closer to the setter. “Try what you were just explaining to me and add it into these questions.”

It took him a few seconds to process the order, his head tilting to the side as that pout returned. A cute look on him, but that wasn’t relevant then, nor now. 

“What, my passes?” Kageyama blinked, and it seemed to click. 

You nodded. “You’re so precise with your sets. Just apply all the knowledge to these situations. It may not be exactly the same thing, but it’s possible.”

Kageyama looked at you for a bit before returning his attention to his notebook, taking his time looking over the written words before skating his pencil across the paper. You figured Yachi was exaggerating when she told you about his passion for the sport, but that assumption went out the window soon enough. But weaknesses can be strengths if you view them from a different angle, and soon the setter’s distraction became his motivation.

Not all the questions he answered were correct, but the improvement was impossible to miss. You beamed, praising him for finding his way. Despite his resting face, Kageyama’s eyes shined from the encouragement, his posture straightening ever so slightly. The baby pink dusting his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you, either, and you had to refrain from cooing. Holding back a chuckle as he stammered an invitation to his team’s next practice match wasn’t possible, and you agreed should he continue to work hard.

The study session ended early, with you wishing the ravenette good luck at practice and his upcoming quiz. You slouched while walking in the opposite direction, pride washing over you like a warm shower. An accomplishment, a job well done. Completed.

You remembered thinking how you could only go uphill from there, academically speaking. What else was there? Aside from volleyball, there wouldn’t be anything else to worry about, and you weren’t even responsible for that department. All you could do was observe the sport and those who play it, learning bit by bit as you cheered for your school’s volleyball club. 

You didn’t know the opposing team or their capabilities, though you could only assume they were a challenge. Yachi sat beside you, scribbling notes and occasionally explaining whatever she learned herself. 

“I heard you found a way to help Kageyama,” she said between sets. “How’d that go?”

As if he heard you, the setter trailed his gaze toward you two, giving you a curt nod before drinking from his water bottle. You returned a small smile before giving your attention to your blonde friend.

“Figured things out a few sessions in,” you responded as the remnants of pride from that day of discovery still swirling in your chest. “He should get the hang of it soon enough. I’m sure getting to stay in this club is more than enough motivation for him.”

Yachi perked up at the news. “That’s great! Thanks again for helping out. I owe you bigtime.”

“Don’t say that.” You shook your head with a giggle. “How’s your tutoring process coming along?”

Movement teased the corner of your eye, but the shriek that echoed throughout the gym was impossible to ignore. Your attention went to the source, and the new manager almost dropped her notebook at the sound.

Kageyama held a death grip on a ginger teammate–Hinata’s–hair, roughly tugging the locks as he glared at the shorter teen. The latter continued to beg, though aside from who you could only assume to be the team captain, no one paid them any mind. As the senior student handled the situation, the setter caught your gaze. His glare faltered, but his frown didn’t disappear as he seemingly analyzed your expression. He walked away with a huff, and soon enough, the second set began.

It was normal, apparently. You got to interact with a few of the other teammates, one of which–Tanaka, if you remembered correctly–barked out a laugh as he assured that Kageyama and Hinata fought like an old married couple all the time. You weren’t sure what kind of elders he’s been around, but so long as the explanation put you at ease, you’d take it. 

You eventually got used to the random quarrels as well. A deal was made between the setter and you that you’d see his games should he continue to work hard academically. Or rather, he’d let you know when his upcoming practice matches would be like you’d already planned on showing up. Not that it bothered you; it was probably his way of connecting with you outside of tutoring, and with your first impressions of him, you assumed making friends wasn’t his forte.

The only downside is that you also had your own club to go to. The boys’ volleyball team didn’t have practice matches too often, so you had yet to miss any, at most showing up a bit late as you’d wrap up your club’s meeting for the day. You’d catch Kageyama with his usual frown until he found you’d shown up, and his expression would soften as he straightened his posture. Having already been in the game, he couldn’t say anything about your tardiness, so you’d sneak to the balcony and observe from above, cheering on a little harder to make up for it. After the game, he’d approach you with a pout, though he’d only discuss the match with you.

It was late fall when you first missed a match. Kageyama informed you a few days prior, as you helped him with Modern Japanese, that a practice game would partake. You thought nothing of it until that day arrived, and you had yet to dismount your seat in your own clubroom. The calligraphy club was pretty straightforward, though that day, there was a meeting, one you barely recalled as your eyes continuously glanced at the clock. Along with cleaning up the classroom, you lost more time than expected, and rushing to the gymnasium did little to fix the issue. 

The game was in its second set by the time you arrived. The first thing you noticed upon entering the gym was the starting setter’s head whipping toward your direction. His alertness subsided, but his gaze stayed on you for a few seconds too many before he served the ball. You assumed things would go as usual, with you sneaking to your designated spot and watching the match until it was over. 

It wasn’t until the opponents requested a time-out did you discover how wrong you were. While the other boys went to fetch water and towels, Kageyama stomped over to you, his sweat-slicked bangs hovering over his eyes in a way that made his glare all the more intimidating.

“Where were you?” His voice was of normal volume, but his tone matched his furious expression perfectly. Your body froze.

“I had this thing,” you stammered. “My club meeting took longer than I thought, and—”

“I was waiting for you,” he seethed, stepping closer. “I even asked Coach to wait a bit so you could make it. I shouldn’t even have to make excuses for tardiness. You couldn’t have told your club that you had places to be?”

Your mouth went dry as he got louder, and by now, most of his teammates were watching the commotion. You’ve seen him frustrated, sure, angry on bad days, too. At least he’d take it out on his homework. 

Still, your habit of patience was second nature, even when it wasn’t called for. “I’m sorry—”

“Kageyama.” Daichi was behind the ravenette with a hand on his shoulder before you could further explain yourself. His tone was stern, sharp even, but nowhere near as intimidating as what you received. A warning. “Go take a breather, why don’t you?”

The setter’s gaze stayed on you a little longer than necessary. He scoffed before walking away, his back facing you as he sipped from his water bottle. You politely dismissed the captain’s apology on his junior’s behalf, assuring him you were all right.

“His Majesty’s probably just upset his girlfriend couldn’t watch him show off,” you heard Tsukishima mutter to Yamaguchi. You weren’t sure if he intended for you to catch his comment, but he wasn’t exactly out of earshot, only a couple of feet away. Regardless, you didn’t bother responding. It didn’t take long for everyone else to leave the little incident in the past, and the tall blonde’s snarky words lingered in your brain for the remainder of the match.

No one else showed up to watch these games. You were there for the tournaments, too; aside from Tanaka’s older sister and a few of the coach’s old friends, the boys’ volleyball club didn’t have much moral support. Much less Kageyama, from what you could tell. You’ve heard about his behaviour back in middle school from Hinata and Tsukishima, the latter with taunts, and the new fragments of information added pieces to the puzzle. 

Kageyama was trying. He didn’t always succeed, but it didn’t stop him from attempting to steer away from the tyrannical path he was heading. You’ve seen him reach for Tanaka’s high-fives, albeit with a confused expression, but it didn’t falter his senior’s enthusiasm. His compliments (if you could even call them that) came out as awkward and forced when he gave them to Hinata after the ginger won a point, and he wasn’t afraid to ask Azumane if he needed to adjust his sets to suit the Ace. 

Maybe you were supposed to be his tutor and nothing more. Maybe it would’ve been better that way. But with very little assistance and even lesser options, Kageyama might have considered your listening to his ramblings as a sign of friendship. You supported him in staying on the team, and now you’re watching him flourish as a result. That’s what friends do—it was only fair for him to ask you to stay as such. You’d ask yourself why not indulge, though you were probably in too deep to call it that anymore.

The following morning, you find Kageyama waiting by the school entrance, two milk cartons in each hand and a strained apology on the tip of his tongue. You smiled, the two of you sipping on your refreshments as you waited for the first bell to ring.

Your calligraphy club disbanded at the beginning of your second year. You weren’t all that surprised at the time: there were barely enough students for it to exist in the first place. Why certain members decided to leave was beyond you, but you saw no point in pushing them to stay if they didn’t want to. Still, you missed your club: you were left to your own devices, the black ink dancing across paper lulling you to a place of comfort.

It was Yachi who suggested you joined the boys’ volleyball club as another manager. She figured you learned some things from Kageyama here and there while tutoring him, and she has no problem helping you catch up. 

“Besides,” the blonde smiled, handing you the sign-up sheet, “it’s pretty lonely now that Shimizu graduated. It’d be nice to have a friend around.” You take the paper from her, staring at it somewhat skeptically. You didn’t voice your hesitance, and after a few seconds of silence, your friend added, “I’m sure the others will be happy to have you around, too.”

With how often you dropped by to watch the team practice and compete, the club members have grown to know you. It didn’t take too long for you to warm up to them, too, usually sitting with Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita and having them explain the gameplay whenever you were lost. Otherwise, it was mainly Kageyama who kept you to himself either because you had time to assist him in his studies or simply because he wanted your attention. 

You later found out it was his idea to have you join the team as another manager, and Yachi agreed immediately. Who would complain about that? Another sweet and pretty girl to help and cheer them on was a dream come true for most. You were the only one that had yet to vocalize content, and you handed in the application sheet soon after receiving it. 

Even with the progress, you still tutored Kageyama. Seeing him more often after classes only gave you more opportunity to support him, especially when Coach Ukai would remind certain members to keep their grades up. 

Not that any of this bothered the setter. He had no problem having you continue helping him with his schoolwork. He’d listen to your instructions, try out new learning techniques whenever he struggled on a particular unit and remained patient (by his standards, anyway) with you when things didn’t work out.

You had no issue continuing your support. You knew Kageyama was trying his best, even when his brain could only focus on volleyball, and you figured you could still learn more about how he interacted with others as he tried to come out of his shell. 

His one-track mind came to a disadvantage at times. When Hinata suggested studying as a group, Kageyama quickly shut the idea down. He’d sometimes go on tangents about strategies and new techniques for the sport while you tried to help him. Tanaka and Nishinoya would quip that the setter had a crush on you and didn’t know how to express it, though you knew better than to take those two seriously. Kageyama told you that becoming a manager would be more suitable for your future than your previous club. He’s grown used to your routine of getting all your attention for tutoring, and having others there would throw him off his game. As for his rants, he’s merely passionate about the sport—you don’t need a reminder.

So, you became a manager for the boys’ volleyball club, continued your one-on-one tutoring sessions and instructed him to only speak of team strategies in English as practice. And you do so until you graduate. 

It’s where the connection between you and Kageyama seemingly disappeared, set ablaze before dwindling into disintegration. He didn’t even give you the time to say goodbye to your friends outside the club before asking them if he could steal you away. (It was more of a declaration—the questioning tone was a mere formality.)

“Ready to take your volleyball career to the next level?” You didn’t know what else to say: not after the abrupt isolation. He’s brought you one of the many hidden corners the school had to offer, away from all the other graduates and their loved ones. Sakura petals fluttered through their descent, softening an otherwise overwhelming atmosphere full of completed chapters and new beginnings. You read manga: it felt like prince charming would swoop in with a confession, second gakuran button in hand. Having blueberry eyes boring into your awaiting frame in such an environment should make the butterflies in your stomach perform their very own acrobatics number, the anticipation eating you from the inside out. And it did, the churning in your belly boiling your face as you tried to meet his gaze. Kageyama’s resting face was always a disadvantage regarding his approachability, but with three years of getting to know him under your belt, you still felt a ghost’s kisses up your spine. 

“Obviously,” he answered. You would have chuckled at the comment in your first year of high school. But even the smile you’ve managed to muster no longer seemed convincing. Part of you wondered if you could find your friends once more to keep in touch before you all left. “I should be asking you that, though.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, yet you kept the corners of your lips upwards. “I don’t know if being a manager for a volleyball team counts as a volleyball career.”

Kageyama didn’t laugh at your quip. You didn’t expect him to, but his response caught you off-guard.

“When will you be joining me?”

Your tiring performance of halo and white wings evaporated at his question, brows further creasing as your smile dropped. A clear indication of confusion, though a hint of offence found its way into the mix. 

“What are you talking about?” Your body instinctively inched closer to your corner. The setter noticed. 

“One of the biggest reasons I’ve managed to get as far as I am with volleyball is because of you,” he stated. “From helping me keep my grades up to becoming manager. I can grow to adjust to any team I become a part of, but I need someone who gets me to be by my side if I want to continue to prosper in my career.” 

The butterflies once performing in your belly dropped dead before they had the chance to bow. The love confession you dismissively thought of boomed with laughter as it slapped you across the back. Your lungs were empty as your brain progressed his words, your face slowly morphing from one expression to another. 

Did you do this?

“Kageyama,” you began, barely knowing where to go without a map, “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but that’s not the path I’m taking.” His resting face grew sour. You forced yourself to continue. “I’m flattered, but really, you did most of the work. I just gave you a little push.” Kind words didn’t weaken the blow—his staredown didn’t falter. “I have a life outside of the sport. I’m no prodigy. I don’t work anywhere near as hard as you do. I don’t feel the same about volleyball the way you do—”

“Bullshit.”

The snap from harsh lips forced yours shut. You shrank back once more, a scolded child fearing further punishment. 

You dared to glance at him. Kegayama was seething, leaning forward with clenched fists and jaw. You didn’t want to peer out to the crowd; had anyone heard him? They either didn’t or were too afraid to jump in. You knew you would be, too. 

“You think some sweet talk is going to make any of this okay?” His voice grew in volume, and you flinched. “You learned past the basics, you understand strategy better than the average player. You’re throwing it all out the window for what? That damn club you were in before had nothing to offer. I can vouch for you if you just follow me.”

There he was: King of the Court. You always thought Tsukishima would exaggerate to gain a reaction, but that title came to be for a reason. You just never thought you’d fall victim to it. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I led you on,” even in a situation like this, your feelings seemed to fall to a second priority, “but I’m telling you now that I don’t love the sport as much as you think I do. It’s not in my future.”

“I showed you opportunity and you throw it back in my face,” he sneered, getting closer. 

“I joined because of Yachi and my old club disbanding,” you defended, voice quivering. “I don’t understand why you’re yelling at me.”

A petal landed on your cheek, and you went to brush it away until you discovered the soft touch was a stray tear. It seemed enough to silence him, if only momentarily, though his glare remained just as deadly.

He wanted to say something; you knew he did. More words of anger, most likely, but he tightened his jaw instead, opting to walk away after giving you a final look of disdain.

You didn’t hear the hopeful and cheerful banter between graduates, nor did you catch Yachi calling your name until she laid a hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your daze. Kageyama lingered in your head for the remainder of that day; no harsh words in particular—mainly the darkening of his blue eyes as his tone became aggressive. Part of you thought you also heard a twinge of betrayal, but after such a whiplash of a confrontation, you weren’t sure you could recall that moment in your state.

Wherever he was during the remainder of graduation, you didn’t see him.

To be more precise, you didn’t see him afterwards, either. With moving to another prefecture for school and time passing by, you eventually put that memory behind you. That isn’t to say it didn’t make your body temperature drop; on the rare occasions Kageyama would be brought up, the daggers his eyes threw your way would flash in your mind. Of course, you saw no reason to voice the issue—you only ever heard about him from Yachi whenever you’d catch up, which isn’t as often as you’d like. From what you know, he’s out of the country, furthering his career like you assumed he would. And while the setter was right about how being manager brought more skills and opportunities, your studies had nothing to do with volleyball. 

Neither does your career.

You never thought you’d set foot in Italy, much less work there after university. Your parents told you that your kindness paid off, much to your irritation. (Was school not already enough of a hassle? And the extracurriculars? The people?)

Even though the conversation was over the phone, you found yourself putting on a smile as you told them about taking the opportunity, your tone hopeful as if you still needed their permission. 

It took you who knows how long to realize you didn’t. And as soon as it hit you, you packed your bags and flew halfway across the world with barely the basics of the Italian language in your brain and newfound perseverance in your heart.

Whatever bits and pieces made you a doormat evaporated into the air as that airplane took off to your new home, and you planned on making what should be the next chapter of your life a completely different book.

Easier said than done, of course.

The last person you’d expect to see at this pub meets your gaze, and your eyes widen from instant recognition. 

Kageyama hasn’t changed all that much. His resting face is hard to miss, the light crease in his brows making him appear far angrier than he is. And with his increase in height and muscle, his intimidation goes up, too. His hair is also somewhat shorter, though that’s all regarding his changes. 

You continue to gawk at him, though his expression remains calm like you two were back in high school and you showed up to one of his games. You should be there.

He’s wearing his jersey, you realize, and grouped up with other men in the same attire. You don’t recognize the team; you haven’t been keeping track of the setter’s career. 

One of his teammates follows his stare, and Kageyama mumbles something before approaching you. You don’t hear what the other man says in return, your attention stuck on your old high school friend. (Can you still call him that? Could you ever have called him that?)

He says your name; your feet plant themselves on the ground. “It’s been a while.”

You blink away the myriad of emotions before nodding. “Still playing volleyball.”

It wasn’t a question, but it doesn’t make you feel any less stupid for bringing it up. Kageyama tilts his head back a bit, motioning to his team with a hum. “Yeah.”

“Can’t say I’m all that surprised,” you try to quip, your fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. Even if the ravenette’s height wasn’t a prominent factor, he’d still tower over you with how his eyes bore into your frame.“Last I heard, you joined Schweiden Adlers.”

His frown deepens. “I’m part of Ali Roma now.”

You bite your lip, your face growing warm. Kageyama appears offended, what with how he slightly tilts his head back for his eyes to look down on you. His brows furrow more, and you’re surprised you still remember his quirks even after all these years.

“An Italian team? Congratulations!” You don’t mention living in the same country, working on the same soil where he now lives and breathes his beloved sport. In fact, you don’t say anything for a little too long, and your eyes glance behind him. “Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your team. It was nice seeing—”

“Don’t worry about them,” he says, moving towards you. “I plan on catching up with you. They’ll understand.”

He’s making you approach a corner booth, and neither your feet nor your voice can protest. Even once you’ve sat down, all you do is shift in your seat, seemingly never comfortable. And whatever you originally planned on ordering is replaced with a glass of water. If Kageyama noticed, he doesn’t comment. He sips his beer occasionally; you’re halfway with your drink in a minute. 

“So,” you hum, “you like your new team?”

The setter looks at you for a few seconds before responding. “Yeah. Full of great players.”

He sounds more like he’s being interviewed than catching up with someone from high school. You try not to deadpan at his short answer. Your habit comes back crawling, keeping up performances and your back straight, head forward and heart thumping.

Your glass is almost empty when Kageyama speaks once more. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in Italy?”

He didn’t sound offended or hurt. The question came out as curious and casual like you two were going on about your day. But you know that’s not what’s happening, and his eerie calmness makes you nearly choke on your drink.

“We kinda lost touch,” you answer steadily, briefly. “It was a pretty quick decision, too. Only a handful of people knew.”

Not a complete lie, but you consider it necessary for now.

“Had to find out from Yachi that you were here last time I played in Japan,” the setter grunts, eyes glued to his drink. Your hold on your glass tightens at his words as your head snaps up to face him, a mix of confusion and a twinge of fear making your expression. You don’t get to ask him anything, not that you’re sure you can, and he continues. “Kind of a hassle not being able to reconnect with you whenever I had time back home. Switching teams was a good call, especially with my previous contract coming to an end. And it’s not like I wouldn’t have made it into Ali Roma anyway. I guess you leaving was a blessing in disguise.”

Whatever he says afterwards, if anything, drowns out as you stare past his shoulder, and your stomach drops. The strength you gained found its cowardice as the old you that disappeared into the clouds crashes down on you like a rainstorm, soaking you to the bone and making you shiver.

You rise from your seat a little too abruptly for your liking. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Also not a complete lie, but who’s keeping track? Not a drop of alcohol touched your tongue, yet you stumble down the hall towards the sign with a female stick figure in a dress and clumsily push the door below it open. You’re unsure if you should hunch over the toilet or splash water on your face, but you aren’t rewarded with a choice, nor the time, to make it.

A knock rinses the blood out of your ears, and you can hear the cheerful and far-from-sober banter back in the bar.

“Occupied,” you stammer hurriedly, carrying yourself to the sink. The creak of the door opening has you inhaling sharply, and who you see in the reflection keeps the air in your lungs.

Kageyama stands a couple of meters from you, his brows lightly furrowed. “Why do you keep doing that?”

You don’t answer him. The ravenette takes a step forward. You flinch.

“I was right, you know,” he begins, strangely calm. “That old club of yours–the calligraphy one–it was a waste of time.” His movements are slow as he approaches you. “It’s a good thing everyone left. Even if your new job has nothing to do with volleyball, your manager position definitely brought you to where you are now.” As vague as he may be, you can’t help but move back every time he gets closer, your fist tightening near your chest. “It would’ve been better if you’d just joined me, though.”

Your back hits the wall, and you don’t register what happens afterwards as your jumbled thoughts decipher possibility after possibility over the athlete’s implications. You don’t realize he’s kissing you or grabbing hold of your face to make you return the forced affection. You’re elsewhere as he lifts your top over your breasts and your skirt past your hips. Your mind is groggy as he gropes you through your bra, soon sliding past the material to tweak your nipples. 

It isn’t until his hand slides down your body and into your panties do you awake to a nightmare. 

Your front presses up against the tile wall; you don’t recall when he turned you around, the dead end’s coolness painting goosebumps all over your body and juxtaposing the warm fresh tears cascading down your squished cheek. Kageyama’s fingers languidly glide across your lower lips before he clicks his tongue. You can hear the irritation; you always could.

Not as wet as he’d like you to be. But the setter only has so much patience. He’s human, after all. He’s human.

The thought barely registers when you hear a faint zipping sound behind you, and suddenly his hard-on presses into the small of your back. Your breathing picks up as he spreads your legs with little effort, further pushing you into the wall before doing the same with your panties, revealing your entrance to him.

He doesn’t grace you with sweet nothings and mercy: just a blob of spit in his hand to pump his cock followed by heavy panting. And when he finally enters, the silence deafens you as he chokes on a gasp. 

That’s the moment that felt never-ending; he went in and never stopped, it seems, dragging himself into your insides until he was everywhere. He is everywhere. He is inside and behind and looming and crushing.

The nicest he was to you was when he waited to let you adjust, and you hate yourself for being the sweet little high school girl who tried to see the best in people. He doesn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve this.

Kageyama makes his first few strokes slow, but they’re still deep enough to have you gritting your teeth. It isn’t long until he gasps your name and picks up speed. 

“All this way,” he rasps in your ear, almost masking the slapping noises his hips would make when colliding with your ass. “All this way to another part of the world, joining a new team, starting over and getting better, all to see you again.” You don’t hear him when he speaks, nor as he grunts extra loudly as you tighten around him. “I should’ve done this sooner.”

A large hand slides back into your bra, squeezing your breast, calloused fingers tugging at the hardened bud, while the other one further shoves your panties aside to hastily rub your clit. The dry friction does little to soothe you, and with his lack of patience, the nub receives no pattern except whatever it's offered. Still, the added stimulation makes you tighten and the ravenette more restless. Even in your position, he finds a way to slam his lips against yours again. His tongue makes its way into your cavern as his thrusts get sloppier. You can’t breathe.

Not when he pulls away from the kiss. 

Not when his hips sputter as hot ropes paint your insides white. 

And certainly not when your high follows soon after.

It wasn’t strong, and it didn’t last long, but the shame that creeps into your stomach lasts an eternity. 

Your heavy breathing syncs with his as everything finally settles into your slowly-sobering mind. Kageyama’s still inside you, his hot breath fanning the back of your neck as his hands find your wrists to grab hold of. 

You’re in high school all over again. His actions have evolved to more dangerous heights, but you’re back in that gymnasium watching him practice. Even when he finally pulls out, even when he pulls you close, even when he snuggles into the junction of your shoulder. 

Kageyama hasn’t changed one bit.

@creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

[m1ckeyb3rry]

HOW I WOULD’VE WRITTEN YUKIMIYA AND KUNIGAMI

i made a silly post last night about something i would’ve done differently in the neo egoist league and it inspired me to finally make a proper post explaining how i, personally, would’ve written yukimiya and kunigami specifically, given that the both of them are currently suffering from benched-character-syndrome (that’s not a real thing, i just made it up, but i’m sure you all can figure out what it means)

disclaimer before i start: this is MY OPINION and just one way that things could be done differently — i’m not saying that this way is better or worse (on the whole i actually have been enjoying kaneshiro’s decisions so this is definitely not hate), it’s just a different perspective!! i will be cutting many characters in the course of this explanation, including some fan-favorites ones, but don’t take that personally, because for the most part, it doesn’t mean i hate them 😩 in fact i typically like most of them, this is just from a writing perspective ☝🏻

disclaimer two: i am not a professional writer or mangaka or anything — i’m literally typing this while eating a rice bowl at my kitchen counter!! so don’t expect peak fiction and DO expect plenty of typos…i also don’t know how the manga is going to go and this could be rendered completely obsolete (writing this as of chapter 276) in like an arc or so 😓 please don’t come in my notes and call me stupid or say i have zero reading comprehension or whatever other insult you feel inspired to come up with (i know some of y’all like to tussle 😰), put that energy into making your own post or ignoring me or whatever brings you peace and joy 🥰

OKAY now that that’s over with we can finally get started!! LMAO sorry for the lengthy disclaimers i’m scared of some people in fandom tbh because some of the notes i’ve seen on my mutuals’ posts/some of the fandoms i’ve been in in the past…anyways…

@sharkissm here’s the post i promised you!!

YUKIMIYA KENYU

poor yuki…he went from number 5 in blue lock to a literal random in bastard münchen?? okay maybe not quite RANDOM but he’s approaching that status 😓 it feels as though the character he was set up to become in the third selection and u20 arcs is not the same as the character he became in the NEL arc both in terms of worldview and play-style!! so to begin with, i’d make some heavy adjustments to his backstory in order to explain away some of those discrepancies in a more consistent manner

as we know, yuki had a pretty good childhood, all things considered — much more in line with the isagis of the world than, say, bachira, and not to mention kaiser. well, the first thing i’m going to do is take that away from him completely!! instead of having an idyllic childhood where he’s incredibly perfect, i want him to be from a “bad” area of japan. of course, both in real life and in blue lock, japan does not have any crazily horrible terrible areas, but all countries have their sketchier parts, and i want yukimiya to be born in one of those. he lives his childhood as an absolute MENACE and is the kid that adults hate to see coming. his parents work a lot, so as much as they love him and try to raise him as best as they can, they’re not there to correct him 100% of the time, so he kinda just runs roughshod and does whatever the hell he wants. in his light novel, it’s mentioned that he learns to play soccer with this old man and his dog, and i’m actually not going to take that aspect away from him completely because it’s cute, but i will change the context a bit; instead of it being a chance encounter, the old man actually seeks yukimiya out and asks to teach him soccer. maybe his son went down a similar path that yukimiya has begun down and while he can no longer save his son, he at least wants to help yuki out and channel his energy into something more productive, hence soccer!!

after learning soccer from the old man and his dog, yukimiya begins to play it on the streets with some of the other local kids (who are just glad he’s not being a bully anymore and are happy to play along) which is the beginning of the development of his street-style dribbling (in reference to that majestic ass panel of him in the u20 game that was like hardly ever referenced again) as well as his dominance as the one-on-one king. he’s basically undefeatable, and this leads to something of a superiority complex in that he is firmly convinced that he is the protagonist, he is the one that the universe favors, and he absolutely cannot and will not lose and nothing bad can ever happen to him. he continues to be an asshole in general and is still the kind of guy that your parents would tell you to stay the hell away from, however!!

things change when his eyesight starts deteriorating. he goes to the doctor, and that’s when it’s revealed that he has this eye disease (is it even named in canon?? idk i’m just going to call it eye disease) and he might eventually go blind. that night when he leaves the doctor, it’s pretty much in despair, because soccer is the only thing that makes him happy given how miserable his surroundings are (again, there’s obviously many countries and places that have it way worse, but for young yukimiya who is comparing it to the rest of japan, it’s not that great) and he feels like he’ll now be stuck in the same cycle that his parents are caught in. on the way home, he sees one of those religious billboards that’s all like “god will always forgive you” and since he’s at one of the lowest points of his life thus far, he decides that he’s going to become religious because this blindness/disease must be a punishment from god for the things he’s done.

soon after, he’s walking home from school or something random (this is meant to be an extreme coincidence given the situation) and is scouted to be a model. this reaffirms his conviction that his conduct thus far is wrong and that if he ever wants to escape and live the good life that he dreams of, he has to abide by god’s rules and follow his ways. he gets into modeling and makes enough money that he and his family can move to a better part of the country, where he begins to play soccer for his new high school and is quickly recognized for his skill/talent. through this process, he learns how to be incredibly polite, kind, and altruistic, because he’s already been “punished” once and doesn’t want to face it again…he also wants to prove that he is better now and deserves this new life of his as much as if he had born to it + he doesn’t ever want to go back to where he used to be!!

what this backstory change accomplishes: it explains the street soccer panel in a more satisfying way, and it also gives a reason for why yuki is so kind in the 3rd selection/u-20 match and then suddenly becomes incredibly selfish in the NEL — instead of it just being explained away as ego, it shows how blue lock manages to draw out the worst aspects of one’s personality via competition, because yukimiya, who has worked so hard to be good and kind, reverts to his childhood personality almost instantly under isagi’s pressure!! it also explains why yuki’s so quick to just go back to being chill, as he probably feels guilty that he let himself slip like that and doubles down on being a “good person”

now as for the actual games this is where i think i will make the most people mad BUT i would’ve gotten rid of kurona and had yukimiya replace him!! to be honest as much as i do like kurona, he was very very randomly dropped in (i literally thought i had missed the manga panel introducing him because his actual first speaking appearance was so out of the blue) and there were already established characters that could’ve taken that role (ex. yukimiya). i would’ve sent kurona (and honestly probably kiyora) over to barcha because they likely would’ve gotten along well with bachira and otoya plus their passing skills could’ve made barcha a stronger team!! this also serves to isolate isagi more and gives him literally no one but hiori on his side — in this scenario, i want yukimiya to be SO altruistic (as per the backstory change) that he will pass to anyone, just as long as that’s what’s best for the team (the “greater good”). if yukimiya stays the 1v1 emperor, this also adds another dynamic to the kaisagi rivalry as well as possibly adding a ness vs hiori dynamic because that would mean that more often than not, yukimiya would have the ball, and he’s the one who they will rely on to break through the defense before passing to one of the other midfielders (ness, hiori) or going straight to one of the strikers (kaiser, isagi) (yes i know there’s only one striker on a team but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN). this version of yukimiya could also have a very interesting dynamic with kaiser as both of them come from somewhat similar backgrounds (obviously kaiser is worse but there are similarities) however kaiser forsakes everyone in order to view himself as a god, or god’s chosen one, whereas yukimiya once believed himself to be that but has now forsaken that aspect of his ego in order to place his beliefs in others and in a higher being. this means kaiser could also be a method of awakening yukimiya (giving him interactions with more of the team than just isagi) where his selfishness makes yukimiya realize that if he wants to survive and continue dominating on the field as the 1v1 emperor, he also has to be a little more selfish (a leader instead of just a follower), allowing him to settle into a blend of his new personality and his childhood one, where he’s still kind and agreeable but also a little bossy and much more assertive/willing to score his own goals even if it’s not necessarily for the greater good 100% of the time

what this new role accomplishes: it allows yukimiya to have much MUCH more play time as he deserves given the hype built up for him during the third selection (he was ranked higher than NAGI, which yes it was in the second selection but second selection nagi was a beast so that says something about yuki for sure [as well as karasu and otoya but we’re not talking about them atm]), it gives us a smaller cast to work with on bm (because at the moment there are just too many blue lockers getting random backstories and doing one thing in a game before ghosting and honestly if all of their individual contributions were consolidated into one character, in this case yukimiya, it would make that one character much stronger as well as taking away the plotsagi accusations as now isagi isn’t the only one consistently doing things in games) and allows us to get much more attached/involved with the stakes of the games, and it gives kaiser dynamics with the rest of bastard münchen instead of just isagi, which fleshes him out a bit more as well

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

i’m sure this is what most of you are reading for (although i hope you went through the yukimiya part and enjoyed it as well!!) and trust i have come to deliver because i have many thoughts about kunigami…my biggest gripe is that his return from the wildcard was so built up and then the narrative treated it as so utterly unimportant (why do literally none of the characters gaf??? like there were a couple of panels touching on it but nowhere near the significance it shoudl’ve been given) that the readers themselves have zero stakes in it!! like if isagi, who considered kunigami a fairly good friend as far as blue lock goes, barely questions why his friend is so different now, then why should we as readers care either?? now, if/when the wildcard reveals are done, they will MOST LIKELY not have the same impact that they could’ve if kunigami as a character was treated differently in the narrative (again, maybe this will change and there will be something that makes the punch of it still hit just as hard, but as of the moment i’m writing this post, i don’t feel that that will happen)

there’s two routes that i could see kunigami taking, and both of them involve kicking out some fan favorite characters (again) but in the first case it’s only temporary!! i’ll go through the first one and then the second one and cover my ears as the bm fans yell at me for axing kaiser and ness

that’s right, route one involves getting rid of kaiser and (most likely) ness entirely!! i am actually of the firm belief that the ng11s (specifically kaiser and lorenzo) were introduced too early. people legitimately think lorenzo is a bad player just because ubers lost vs bm even though kaiser himself had difficulties when lorenzo was covering him…in my opinion the ng11s should’ve been kept as a mysterious entity whose only representative we see is sae itoshi (for narrative reasons) until the u-20 world cup, where ng11s randomly show up in some of the matches to raise the stakes and allow individual blue lockers to confront their demons/weakness and develop further (for example, in a game against, say, the italian u-20 team, maybe shidou learns how to break through a defensive set up with lorenzo at the center?? and that particular match is the ‘shidou match’ random example because idek if shidou’s built like that but you get the gist). i honestly don’t even mind kaiser being there as much because at least he’s doing stuff and still feels like he’s on another level but lorenzo shouldn’t have been shown until later — anything he does, aiku could’ve accomplished and that also would’ve built the rivalry between him and barou that was hinted at in barou’s ln…but anyways my thoughts on aiku can be a separate post because i have digressed!! back to kunigami

in this version, i want him to be isagi’s main rival instead of kaiser, who’s not here at all. make his new ego so obsessed with scoring goals that he cannot fathom anyone else doing it. whatever wildcard did fucked him up so badly that he is absolutely TERRIFIED of returning, so even if it makes the team lose, even if it makes him an asshole, he will do anything to score and prove himself as “useful” to the team so that, even in the worst-case scenario, he’s the one being chosen instead of anyone else (the way reo was chosen over him). this also creates a much deeper rivalry than just “who gets to be the star of the team” as it’s rooted in kunigami’s insecurity and fear of wtvr the fuck was going on in wildcard. this also builds wildcard up as something much more terrifying than it has been so far in canon, because when you think about it it MUST have been horrible and that’s gone somewhat unacknowledged except for brief hints and glimpses, and it also adds a legal/moral/ethical dilemma — because obviously wildcard WORKS, kunigami is the proof of it (as isagi’s main rival, he’s scoring all of the goals that kaiser did, so he’s obviously eating it up), but is it sustainable?? is it something that they can do en masse?? because there’s no question that it’s destroyed kunigami completely, so is it even worth it?? or is it one of those things that you think is worth it when you start (the way kunigami must’ve) but afterwards you regret entirely??

however, given the importance that kaiser has to the NEL (he’s kind of the face of it to be honest), as well as how many fans he has, i can totally understand leaving him in, so i have another option, which i also really like. in this route, i want to use kunigami to replace ness — which doesn’t make sense at first i know but hear me out!! ness hasn’t contributed enough to the plot (besides his dynamic w kaiser ig) for me to feel bad about kicking him out honestly and that’s one less character on the main cast that we have to care about, allowing for more depth to the characters that DO exist. in this scenario, kaiser’s in a loki-esque situation, where all he needs to get that coveted re al offer is someone with the crazy strength to push through players like lorenzo (we’ve seen kaiser struggling with defense before, and as barou says in second selection, kunigami has the build to hold the ball up at the top of the field)…enter kunigami, who’s very obviously a prime candidate for this, and kaiser POUNCES!! he thinks he’s going to have to convince kuni to take his side instead of isagi’s, but surprisingly, kunigami very readily agrees to it. this is because in this route, kunigami resents the blue lockers, including isagi, because while he was effectively being tortured, they were being lauded with praise and shown on live tv as celebrities and whatnot. they never suffered in the way he did, and although he does believe that wildcard was necessary for him to evolve (not a healthy mindset but the one drilled into him), he still wishes the rest had endured what he did, because it scarred him so much that he almost cannot handle knowing that he went through it alone while the others were enjoying themselves (comparatively)?? so he teams up with kaiser and is actively working against his old friends (for maximum effect add in reminders/callbacks to the team z days to give extra angst to the “betrayal”)…it would also be very fun to juxtapose kunigami’s and kaiser’s backstories here, as kunigami had a good life that was ruined by soccer, whereas kaiser had a shitty life that was saved by soccer, and this could definitely come through in their particular brands of desperation while playing!!

now, there’s plenty of theories floating around that ness will assist isagi in scoring the final point against pxg (now that IGAGURI is in for some reason idk if that’s still a likely outcome but i can def see it happening) however my counter-point is don’t have kunigami assist isagi with the two-gun volley…give that to yukimiya (given he’s a character like i outlined previously) or even hiori, and instead have kunigami pay isagi back for the half of the steak (therefore acknowledging their past and old friendship for the first time since his return) by passing him the ball instead of kaiser, the way everyone expected/was covering for. this allows isagi to still score the final goal against pxg while giving it more of an emotional meaning than just “oh isagi has to win because he’s the main character”

alternatively, if pxg is meant to win, then i would leave the two-gun volley as it is, but i would just make it so that the setup is still kunigami choosing isagi over kaiser and acknowledging their old friendship, and i would make a bigger deal out of the pass since the build up is different!! i also wouldn’t have noa tell kunigami to manmark shidou the entire time…instead i would make kunigami obsessed with shidou in the BEGINNING of the game, but i would have kaiser/isagi/noel noa yell at him for this obsession and remind him that the objective is winning, not revenge, so he’s still active in the game instead of just being stuck on babysitting shidou duty (this role could be given to yukimiya actually, again given that he’s written as i stated previously, as he’s the 1v1 emperor so he has enough of the physicality to accomplish that and keep the ball away from shidou if it gets near him, and he’s already done enough in the previous games that it’s alright for him to take a bit more of a backseat especially after two-gun volley)

as a footnote, EITHER route you like, there’s one thing that was absolutely a missed opportunity which i’d like to focus on, and that’s kunigami’s dynamic with noel noa. it’s not a secret that kunigami’s supposed to be a copy of noel noa, but what does noa think of this?? i need their dynamic to be weird and fucked up…like he’s noa’s protege, as he’s meant to be a copy of the man, but noa is simultaneously absolutely disgusted by ego, becuase what do you mean his old rival who faded into obscurity has suddenly returned with this child whose body and life and future he completely ruined, whose mental state is absolutely destroyed, just so that he could finally “beat” noa?? just so that he could make a copy of the man that he could never actually be himself?? and this disgust with ego transfers to noa also almost shunning kuni and avoiding him when possibly/treating him way more strictly than he does the others…which only makes kunigami try to work ten times as hard to prove himself…but this only freaks noa out more and it’s just a vicious cycle LSKDFJHSLK

ANYWAYS so this was a crazy long post but it’s really not meant to be taken all too seriously!! like i said these are just musings about how two characters that i personally like could’ve been used differently 🤩 if you read all of this then you’re a goat fr and feel free to talk to me about blue lock/anything else at any time!!

what was that youtube ass outro