#would literally spend hours on tumblr and ao3

[seventh-district]

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[eetherealgoddess]

hellooo, welcome backkk!!! I FUCKING MISSED YOU LIKE SOOO MUCHHHHH. Girl, I thought you left tumblr because honestly the majority of the best writers I also know left:( You're my fav writer so I was really sad AND GIRL WHEN I SAW!! WHEN I SAW THAT YOU WERE ACTIVE 3 HOURS AGO??? MAN I CREAMED. I CAME. I ORGASMED-

I also have a request!! Do you write incest? It includes it, but ofc if you're uncomfortable with it you can ignore mee~ it can be stepcest or ykkk anything you're comfortable with!! the story goes with mikey's cute little sister that's rebellious (both him and the reader ain't in good terms ever since the whole bonten happened)emo mikey finally snapped and decided to punish her when she did something VEEERRYYY unforgivable. He and his men (bonten) brutally like bruuutallly punished her. it can be smut or anything you want. whatever it is I'LL EAT IT UP MHMMMM SCRUM DILLY YUM YUM MY PUR PUR POOKIE WOOKIEEEEEEE

I appreciate the love and support!! ts had me dying LMAO

i do not write biologically related incest nor half siblings but i’m fine with writing stepcest (depending on the plot) and like a foster or adoption situation (all 18+)

i kinda sort of followed the timeline so there might be scenes that are not accurate to the manga/anime, tho i did it that way to fit it in better with the plot so the scenes aren’t as long <3

ALSOOOO!!! i could’ve made this waayyy more brutal but when i was imagining different scenarios i literally made myself sick 💀💀💀

ꨄRebelꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦Was it worth it?❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

(Mostly Mikey, Kazu, and Sanzu x Reader but read to catch the vibes :)

❣︎All of Bonten are included in this story except Mochi❣︎

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Rebel

You were never one to follow rules blindly. You always questioned what you were told no matter who fed the information. How could you not when you spend most of your childhood shipped from family to family like a worn out package that's been sent to the wrong destination repeatedly? It wasn’t until you aged eight years that you were finally adopted by a man who asked you to call him ‘Grandpa Sano.’

You were unprepared for the generosity you received from the Sanos, having been in situations where your foster family wanted nothing to do with you. Your negative experiences caused you to form a barrier, an outer shell that shields you from the vulnerability your brain wanted to protect you from. You were cautious, unknown as to why you were chosen. When you first arrived, you were greeted by the oldest sibling, Shinichiro. He was kind, sort of silly as he displayed his quirkiness whenever you would spend quality time together after you had grown to see him as a proper big brother.

Emma beamed when she saw you, excited that another girl would finally be around to become her companion in a house full of boys. When you were comfortable, you gained a sense of sisterhood you never thought you’d have the privilege to experience. The last Sano you had met was none other than Sano Manjiro, otherwise known as Mikey. The first contact was interesting as you both gave blank expressions to one another. After growing alongside the boy, you could tell the kid had a sense of cockiness, though rightfully so as you learn about his incredible strength.

Watching Mikey and Baji fight when they would practice their skills made you want to become as strong as them. You would observe their moves every chance you got, failing in your attempts until you would eventually succeed, resulting in you declaring a battle against Mikey. The boy gazed at your stern appearance before releasing a light hearted laugh. You didn’t dislike him, in fact you both grew closer as time went on. If anything, you were inspired by him, even if you came off as a bratty little sister who wanted to follow him around with all his friends.

Even at a young age you could tell that he would grow to be a good person. You felt safe in his presence, knowing that he counted you as family. Knowing that he grew to love you as well as you to the Sano family. You knew that Mikey would never hurt anyone, his soul radiating a warmth you have never seen before. That is, until the day came where all you heard was Baji’s begging for Mikey to stop as you watch in horror, the blood seeping from the corners of another one of his childhood friends, Haruchiyo’s mouth.

Your hands trembled as you eye the onyx orbs that bore into the boy on his knees, a cold expression laced with nothing but a shadow of darkness. Your own eyebrows were furrowed as tears streamed down your face while you switched gazes between the two boys.

“M-Mikey…” You whispered, listening to Senju as she cried in the background. He either didn’t hear you or ignored you. Whichever was the case didn’t matter as you heard him finally speak.

“Smile, Haruchiyo.”

His voice was deep, almost as if it wasn’t his own. You covered your own mouth as Haru began laughing hysterically as his tears mixed with the blood. You knew at that moment that something had switched. You didn’t know what exactly the change was, but you knew that absolutely nothing would feel the same.

Time passed as you all hit your pre - teen years and Mikey had formed his own gang, Toman. It was early in the making though you thought it was the coolest thing. You had let go of the negative image your mind had formed when the incident with Haruchiyo happened after Mikey had given a heartfelt apology to everyone, including the boy in the hospital bed. When you visited Haruchiyo, the young boy had confirmed his forgiveness and encouraged you to give Mikey some leeway. He was once again your inspiration as you reasoned with yourself that he just had a ‘moment.’

Everything was going normally for a while, Shinichiro teaching you how to ride a motorbike as well as Mikey allowing you to hang out with him and his friends occasionally. Kazutora and Baji pulled you along to search for a gift considering Mikey’s birthday is coming up. Having had a small crush on Kazutora for a while, you followed them, sitting behind the tiger tattooed boy with your arms wrapped around his waist.

It wasn’t until the mischievous delinquent explained his plan, in which you and Baji reacted with hesitation. He waved off your worries and claimed that the best way to obtain Mikey’s gift would be to steal from the store that holds his most ideal bike. When you arrived, you couldn’t shake the familiarity. It’s as if you have seen this place before but you don’t remember stepping foot into a bike shop ever in your life. As you stand to the side while Baji tries to move the bike, a presence causes you both to look up.

“Who’s shop do you think you’re breaking into…?”

“Y/n?” Your eyes widen at Shinichiro as the realization hits you.

Although you’ve lived with the Sanos for a few years now, you’ve never once stepped foot into Shinichiro’s bike shop. You’ve only come across pictures which is why there is familiarity. It completely slipped your mind that Shinichiro owns a place that just so happened to be this one.

“Shini… I…” He turned his head to meet his orbs with Baji’s.

“You look familiar, are you Keisuke?” Baji stutters as he attempts to respond. Just as he said his name, you both gasp as you watch Kazutora come from behind with a large tool, raising his arms before slamming them down. A resounding crack echoed througout the room as the weapon made contact with Shinichiro’s head.

Your breath hitched as you watched his body fall to the ground, landing with a thud. The same trembling you felt from your hands when you watched Mikey tear Haruchiyo’s face appeared as you stared down at Shinichiro’s lifeless body, the blood seeping under his head as it stained the floor. Baji drops to his knees as he hovers above the corpse, explaining to Kazutora who the victim was. The golden eyed boy could only respond by hyperventilating.

“What do we do? What do we do?” Baji croaks out, hand meeting his forehead as Kazutora’s fingers reach his own mouth, biting them as he stares in place with wide eyes.

“I didn’t do it… I didn’t kill him.” His voice trembled. You watch in fear as you eye the hysterical boys, falling to your own knees before sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around your knees as you whimper before the tears stream freely. Your bottom lip quivers as you gaze at your oldest brother’s form. You couldn’t help but take part of the blame considering you are a witness that could’ve done something to stop this madness before it occurred.

You listen to Kazutora’s ramblings as Baji attempts to call an ambulance. It was horrific to see them so distressed, a feeling of impending doom coming on as you realize there’s no coming back from this. Your mind ran through different scenarios on what would happen once the Sano family found out about everything.

“Let’s get outta here!” Baji says to you both though you couldn’t move, watching as Kazutora seems to lose his mind by the second.

“It’s all… Mikey’s fault.” Your eyes widen as you gaze at him with concern. “I need to kill Mikey.” He claimed with a distorted smile, tears threatening to fall. You could only stare in disbelief as the cops were heard outside the building.

When you all walked out, everyone except you binded, a head of blonde hair appeared in front of you with a surprised expression.

You watched as Mikey questioned Baji, in which he cried out an apology as Kazutora chants “Kill… kill…”

You were there for it all. You were there when Kazutora spent two years in juvenile, only to come back with a vengeance. You were there when Kisaki became involved as well as this random Takemichi kid who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. You were there for Valhalla's battle, witnessing Baji’s death as you held his head on your lap before Kazutora was arrested once more. You were there for the Christmas battle. You were there for the Tenjiku battle and you were there when Mikey disbanded Toman before he disappeared, followed by a few other people you had met.

There was even a time in your early adulthood when you went to visit Kazutora in jail only to find out he had been released a few years earlier than the ten years he was sentenced, seeming to have disappeared along with Sanzu and Mikey. For a while you blame yourself for not keeping in touch when everyone was initially ghosted by your brother. You wanted to give him the space you knew he needed considering he hadn’t been the same since you had first met.

Finally exhausted with your passive ways you decided to seek him out, figuring that you might be able to track the other members that disappeared as well. Although you kept in touch with Emma, Draken, Mitsuya, Chifuyu, and etc., you couldn’t ignore the yearning you felt to find your brother and friends. You missed them dearly. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to have known anything until you repeatedly bothered the dragon tattooed man to tell you the truth about Mikey’s whereabouts.

“Now that I’ve told you, forget about Mikey. Forget about the rest of em. It’s too dangerous, Y/n.”

Knowing that Draken is right, you listen. For a while you stopped your search and continued to live your life, working a 9 to 5 and coming home to your decent sized apartment. It wasn’t until you received a letter signed by the person you had been searching for. Once you reach the day that he wrote in the letter, you rush to meet him at the destination, speeding down the streets on your motorcycle.

Reaching the place, you eye the closed nightclub in awe. You wondered why he decided to meet you at this particular setting. You felt a rush of anxiety as you near the door, opening it before walking into the empty space. You walk through the dark room using the flash on your phone as you walk to the staircase, following Mikey’s instructions.

When you reach upstairs, you walk into the door he ordered. Your footsteps echo through the dark room, the sun outside illuminating through the open windows as a breeze flies across the room. Your eyes meet a head of platinum hair, indicating the back of someone’s head. The male who wears a black long sleeve shirt and pants sits with his back bent forward, arms on his lap as his head hangs low. The symbol on his neck stood out to you, reminding you of Izana’s earrings. Your eyes widen when realization finally clicks.

“Mikey?” You say, gaining momentum as you rush over to your brother. Before you could make it, a grip on your arm causes you to halt, as well as a firm pressure against the back of your head. You stare ahead as your breath hitches.

“Move at my pace.” The voice behind you demands. Having no other choice but to listen or risk an early death, you ignore your accelerated heart beat and follow alongside the body that shifted slightly to the side of you. Your eyes switch from the short man ahead to the person beside you, immediately catching the scar on the corner of the person’s mouth.

Sharp blue eyes suddenly meet yours during the observation, pink bangs swaying as his head faces you. His lips curve into a toothy smirk, eyebrows furrowing as he gives you a mischievous expression.

“T’s been a while, Y/n.” You turn away from him as you both walk closer to Mikey.

“I guess long enough to where you feel the need to have a gun against my head. As if we never knew each other.” You respond, irritation adding to your fear as you’re led to the chair in front of Mikey.

He only ignored you as his grin grew wider, guiding you to sit facing away from your brother. When your bottom meets the seat, Sanzu stood next to you with the barrel of the gun placed to your temple.

“Leave us, Sanzu.”

“Got it.” He responds before dropping his arm and walking towards the exit. “I’ll be downstairs.”

After giving you one more side glance, the pink haired man closed the door behind him as he walked out of the room.

“I heard you wanted to find me.” He says softly. Your fingers fidget in your lap as your knees are pressed together, feet spread apart. You chew on your bottom lip as you sit with a tense body, realizing the gravity of your situation and how dangerous it was to meet him with no sort of back up.

“This isn’t you. This isn’t how it was supposed to be…” You begin, shaking your head as you continue, “…I get it, Mikey. Everything that happened hurt like hell. Just because you went through something doesn’t mean you become the leader to a fucking criminal organization and kill lots of innocent people.”

When he didn’t respond, all you heard was your own breathing as you fought the tears that threatened to escape.

“You act like you’re the only one that went through anything. As if I wasn’t there experiencing as much pain as you! I didn’t run off and disappear and cause more harm to the streets, because there just wasn’t enough blood splattered!”

You had the understanding that you could be digging your own grave. The sorrow and anger hitting you all at once had your words slipping out fast. You missed him, who he was before. How could he have abandoned you like that?

“Y-you could’ve come to me. We could’ve been there and experienced it all together, Mikey. I-I know you’re just in pain, but I’m here. I’ve always been there.” You say the last sentence softly as your vision blurred from the moisture.

You listened as you heard rustling behind you, followed by footsteps leading towards your sitting figure. Your sobs went silent as a figure shadowed over you. The cold impact of the gun against your head causes goosebumps to run across your arms, a chill running up your back as you make eye contact with the man holding a weapon against your forehead.

Anyone could lose themselves in the void of his orbs. They bore into you coldly as he gazed down at you with a blank yet intense expression. Your bottom lip quivered as your eyebrows furrow angrily. His arm follows as you stand from your seat slowly.

“Is this all you know how to do now?” You almost growl, exhausted by the behavior your brother displays when you know he clearly has a hard time communicating his emotions. “Shoot whoever questions you. Murder instead of speaking on how you feel. When are you gonna grow up, Mikey?”

“Shut up.” He hissed. “You know nothing.” You only stare back in response, glaring at him as the gun cocks.

“Leave.” He states before lowering his arm. You watch the male as he makes his way to the exit. Before he walks out of the opened door, he turns his head to the side slightly, gaze still ahead.

“If we ever see each other again… I’ll kill you.” You chew the skin on the inside of your cheek as a nervous habit when he walks out, leaving you to allow the words to sink in.

In that moment, you determined that you would find a way to bring back the real Mikey. You couldn’t accept this. You would never accept this reality. You would do whatever it takes, even if that means going against your better judgment and acting on emotion, something you had a habit of doing. You don’t care what Mikey says nor have you ever listened when he told you not to do something. You don’t care that you’re risking your life by getting involved. You snatch the phone from your pocket before dialing a number.

“Naoto, I need your help.”

You didn’t know what to expect but it surely wasn’t almost succeeding in the take down of Bonten. Unfortunately, both you and Naoto missed a key detail to your plans which resulted in Bonten being free of the attention from the police. It didn’t help that some of the government officials involved were traitors to the force, having helped the criminal organization in secret.

Thick smoke polluted the building as a radiating heat caused you to sweat. You cough as your arm covers your mouth and nose, eyes squint as you see through the burning room. The alarms screeched as a warning to anyone near that a fire had been started. You heard the impact of whatever caused the flames, knowing a bomb had been planted somewhere inside which caused an explosion. You’re surprised that you’re still alive, along with some of the others who crawl and struggle towards the nearest exit, maneuvering through the limp bodies lying on the ground.

You search for your partner as you walk past broken furniture and office equipment, passing the body parts separated from the corpses who suffered the worst from the eruption. Unfortunately, you were hurt considering your limp, and the ringing in your ears definitely didn’t help. Your hearing has been out since you woke up. You search the police department, watching out for anyone familiar as you yell out, “Naoto!”

You continue through the damage, dodging any object that falls as you walk around the flames. An abrupt pressure on your back caused you to fall to the ground with a grunt, your hearing coming back just as you made impact with the floor. The platform of the bottom of someone’s shoe pushes you back to the ground when you try to pick yourself up.

The man behind you grabs a carton from out of his pocket, lifting the top before pulling a cigarette out. He set the box back in his suit’s jacket pocket before using a nearby flame to light it as he stretched his arm out. He brought the butt of the stick to his lips and sucked in as the remaining flame went out on the end of the cigarette. The man rubs the sweat off of his forehead using the sleeve of his suit, a strand of blonde hair swaying over his face as he drops the arm. He blew the smoke out as he gazed at your figure.

“I warned him about letting you go.” You could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Kazutora?” He takes another hit of his cigarette, holding his breath as he ashed it before blowing the smoke out of his mouth once more. A smirk grew on his face.

“You know, Y/n… I never took you for a snitch.”

“I never took you as a coward, but here we are. You kill people to feel a sense of control yet you’re always following someone else’s orders, seeking approval by anyone who’ll give it to you.” You state, irritated by the heat and the foot on your back.

The grin on his lips fell as he took another hit before leaning over and pressing the burning end of the cigarette against your neck. You gasp before releasing a shriek of pain, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. He holds it there for a moment as he stares down at you with a blank expression. He lifts himself back to a normal position once he removes the cigarette from your skin. A fresh bruise formed in the abused spot.

“Why did you guys become such fucking assholes?” You cry out.

“Come on, don’t start crying on me now Doll…” He chuckled, “…gotta save that for later when Mikey gets his hands on you.”

Before you could fight him off, his fingers squeezed firm against your pressure point. Your vision blurs before your head drops as you sink into darkness.

Your eyes flutter open as a spotlight shines on you. Attempting to lick your lips, you find yourself with a gag secured around your mouth. The red ball stretches your lips uncomfortably as they yearn to be moisturized. Your arms are cuffed above your head as your body is spread out completely nude on the bed. Your shrieks are muffled as the light dims, your knees pressed together as you attempt to cover yourself when you look down and eye the seven figures sitting out on a slightly lower platform, as if you’re on a small stage.

Marijuana and alcohol fills the air, along with the smell of tobacco as you watch the smoke fumes form above a few of the men. Your eyebrows furrow as your toes curl, embarrassment causing a warm face as you shut your eyes tightly, wishing to escape this moment as you’re sprawled out for a bunch of dangerous men. You hear footsteps in the quiet room, someone walking towards the bed.

Mikey appears in your vision as he looks down at you from the side. Your eyes water as you glare at him, disbelief from the fact that your own brother set you up like this. The boy you grew up with who inspired you to go past your own limits. The boy who wanted to make a new era for delinquents. No, you couldn’t believe this.

His fingers slowly traced over your stomach as they moved towards your chest, grazing around the outlining of your breasts. You couldn’t help the whimper of desperation spilling out through the gag, your body beginning to tremble as you realized the gravity of this vulnerable situation. You wanted this to stop. You wanted it all to stop before there’s no return.

“I left you alone…” His fingers dragged themselves across the middle of your breasts, slow and delicate with his touch. “…I warned you, Y/n.”

He slightly leans over as his hand moves to your lower stomach, rubbing the lining nearest to your pubis. Your breath hitched as you gaze at him with wide teary eyes.

“You’ve never been one to listen, have you?” The small smile that formed as he said the statement vanished as quickly as it came. Your stomach sucked in as he used his fingers to lightly glide back up to your chest before circling his hand around your neck, his index finger tapping your face twice. He leaned forward until he hovered right over your face.

“You’ll learn.” You release a shriek as your eyes shut tight, his fingers digging into the burnt skin against your neck, adding a painful pressure to the wound as the tears streamed down your face. When you open your eyes to a squint, his gaze is relaxed. His eyes made him look dead. He released you before walking to the end of the stage and turning to face the crowd, his hands behind his back.

“From now on you belong to me.” He turns his upper body to face you. “You’ll only get to eat, sleep, and breathe because of me. You will do as I say.” A taller figure began to walk on the stage, a familiar pair of purple eyes gazing down at your figure with his signature sly smile. The tall short haired man held a baton that rests on his shoulder as he stops next to the bed, closer to your lower body.

“You deemed yourself a traitor so you will be held accountable. Sister or not.”

You fidget with discomfort as you eye the weapon Ran holds with a concerned expression. He only gives you a mischievous smile in return as he drops his arm, awaiting instructions from his boss.

“If you disobey me…” His eyes switch to Ran before the taller man brings his other hand to the object, fingers adjusting as he lifts his arms. Your eyes widen once more as you hysterically pull against your restraints, legs moving as you attempt to move your body to the side to no avail.

You release a blood curdling scream as your eyes shut tight, the impact causing a loud smack to echo in the room as the end of the baton makes contact with the skin on your thigh. The pain is broad, big. So intense that your whole leg numbs out as your body attempts to protect you. Blood immediately makes its way through your skin as an ugly bruise begins formation. You sob in agony as your head falls back on the bed. You shake your head as you bite the gag.

A cold chill is brought to your body as heat overcomes you, sweat dripping down your forehead as Mikey walks closer to you, staring down at you with the same blank expression. Sanzu watches the display with gleaming eyes, a wide smile on his face as he licks his bottom lip, biting it after as he’s mesmerized by the show in front of him. It was a gorgeous sight, you sprawled out on the bed naked in front of them under Mikey’s control. Your face is so wet with tears and an expression of fear and distress. So vulnerable and fragile. Your skin breaking with ease as the blood dripping down made him want to lick it up. He couldn’t wait to get a hold of you. After all, he’s waited for so long under Mikey’s command. His failed attempt at protecting you. Someone so resilient and yet so weak.

Kazutora is leaned back in his seat with a leg crossed over, his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as he eyes you with no emotion. He ignored the erection forming in his pants as you’re forced into submission, bound by the cuffs as your beautiful voice blesses the room with your cries. A red hue forms on his face as he watches Ran hit you again in a different spot on the same thigh. His cock twitched when he heard your loud scream, the gag doing you no justice. He crossed his arms as he shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position.

Takeomi sat with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he glared at the scene. He never really knew you so he couldn’t care less of your position. He just finds it hilarious to watch the rest of the men simp over Mikey’s infamous cute, bratty little sister. He’s surprised you hadn’t been killed on the spot for becoming a traitor. The leeway his boss is giving you is impeccable. Otherwise you’d be torn apart limb from limb, slaughtered and violated from the inside out. Long gone. This is nothing. He’ll admit that seeing your bitchy ass getting it in is a very sweet sight to see.

Kokonoi sighed as he turned away from the scene. Having remembered you from their delinquent days made this situation all the more sickening. He still couldn’t deny the view of you laid out the way you are having an effect on the cock sitting in his pants. It was uncomfortable, especially since he deems himself as sick as someone like Sanzu or the Haitani brothers for getting turned on by this in the first place.

Kakucho’s eyes followed Ran’s fingers, swiping some of the blood off of your leg before bringing it to his lips. You lay there, sobbing as Mikey caressed both sides of your face. He knew something like this would occur as soon as he began gaining information from the dirty cops about you involving yourself. Although he felt bad for you, he knew that you had it coming. You were warned and now you must deal with the consequences. He palmed himself before squeezing slightly to ease himself as he shifts in his seat, rock hard as he chews on his lip.

“Should I hit the other thigh, boss?” Ran’s smooth voice filled the room as he gently rubbed his thumb along the untouched thigh. You shook your head as you pleaded through the ball gag. You were so focused on switching your gaze between Mikey and Ran that you completely missed the third presence making his way to the foot of the bed.

Drool accidentally fell out of your mouth as you continued to cry and beg for Mikey to let you go and to not hurt you again. It was humiliating but you were in too much pain to care. You had to get out of there. You regret not listening. You regret not leaving him alone. You just want to escape. You just want to go home and hug yourself while you cry. You wanted to see your friends again, your sister Emma. You missed Shinichiro, Baji, your grandpa, Draken, Mitsuya, and everyone else. You missed them all and you wanted a big hug from them.

You wanted to feel safe, to feel loved again. You didn’t like this cold darkness that’s dragging you to a hell you never thought you’d experience. You wish you hadn’t been so stubborn. You just missed your brother, your friends who disappeared. Thumbs drape under your eyes as the tears are wiped away only for more to stream down your cheeks. You feel the ball gag unhook around your mouth as your chapped lips connect, licking them desperately as you continue to sob and pant.

“P-please let me go! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry Mikey I-I’ll listen! I’ll leave you alone just please…!” You rambled your apologies as he continued to gaze at you with the onyx orbs that felt as though they were forcing you to drown in his own darkness. Dragging you under with him into the void everyone so desperately tries to fill or escape from.

“I-I just wanted my big brother! I-I needed you to be who you were! I was wrong…” You sob, “…so fucking wrong. You’re too far gone!” Your hands turned to fists as your breath hitched as he climbed on top of you.

“You’re right. I am no longer your Mikey.”

Your hands tremble as you watch him reach into his pants to pull out his throbbing cock.

“No… no, no, no! Y-you can’t!” You plead as you realize what’s about to happen.

The younger Haitani grabs your ankle as he picks your leg up, along with the older brother who holds up your bruised leg. Mikey adjusts himself in between your legs as he spreads his own knees against the mattress.

“M-Mikey this is so fucked up! P-please! You fucking asshole!” You could only feel rage and despair as you watched him spit in his hand and rub his cock, moisturizing it nowhere near enough for it to easily slip through you.

“Oh shit.” Sanzu breathes out in excitement as the rest of the executives mentally sit on the edge of their seats. They watched the display, some with arousal and excitement while others with slight guilt and arousal. The air was thick in the room as Rin’s grip tightened on your ankle while moving his other hand to the bottom of your foot.

“You’ll learn.” Mikey whispers near your ear before he finally pushes in slowly. Your head falls back with your mouth wide open, nails digging in your own palms as the girth stretches you painfully. Your eyebrows furrow as you clench your teeth. He released a breathy moan as his mouth hangs open, head falling to your shoulder as your pussy squeezed him tightly. You both grunt when he finally bottoms out, base and testicles pressed firmly against you as he shifts his arms under you to hold the back of your neck with both hands.

He eyed the girl with a blank expression as she stood with her hand wrapped in Grandpa Sano’s. Even at his young age he could tell that she had been through quite a lot by the look in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/n.” He says as he pats your eight year old head. You sat with tears streaming down your face with your arms crossed as you pouted angrily at the fact that you lost against your fight with Baji who would help you practice your skills along with Mikey.

“You’ll learn.” He said with a smile as he gazed down at you.

You gasp as you feel his thick length pulling out of you, rubbing against the lining of your walls before he bucks his hips against you with a firmer thrust causing you to grunt in pain.

“You belong to me.” The teen growled.

“Kazutora is my friend! I’m gonna visit him whether you like it or not.” You glare at your brother before stomping away from the shrine.

Truth be told he didn’t like the way you made him feel. So out of control. So out of the loop. He knows that he’s your inspiration. He loves how worthy you deem him to be. He loves that you follow him around all the time like you're his little companion. His little sister. His.

If only you knew how hard it was to allow you on your own. To allow you to make your own decisions. To have abandoned you when he knew you were still vulnerable from everything you both went through. You don’t know how hard it is being the big brother of someone who’s just so fucking stubborn. He was afraid that he would lose you in the midst of his corruption, the dark impulse taking over day by day, so he left you.

“Fuck.” He breathes out as his pace accelerates, hips pulled back before thrusting against you as his grip tightens. His cock slides in and out of your pussy as the juice slickens the erection, making it easier to access as he presses deeper and deeper. The bed rocks as the thrusts become faster and firmer, the smacking echoing throughout the room as it becomes harder to hold back your grunts and moans.

You whimpered as you felt a pressure form against the ankle held by Rin. You make eye contact with him as his lips curl into a mischievous smile. You felt goosebumps form as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered, an impending sense of doom coming over you just as Mikey’s cock aimed for your erogenous zone, pounding your g-spot once you reacted with a shriek.

Mikey walks to the car sitting outside the club he had you meet him at after your conversation was finished. Five of his executives stood outside as he turned his attention to Kakucho.

“Watch her every move.”

He had a feeling you’d try something though he didn’t expect for you to involve the cops. Especially the detective that’s always on his ass.

“You. *Thrust* Belong. *Thrust* To me.” Mikey uses a hand to squeeze your chin, forcing your eyes to meet as you pant and sob.

All of the executives watch with dazed expressions as Mikey bitched you out. Some biting their own lips while others palmed their covered erections. Mikey eyed your face as it morphed while the pit in your stomach builds, indicating the nearing of your orgasm. He used one hand to balance himself against the headboard as he grabbed the leg Ran was holding to gain better access. He thrusts against you as his cock rubbed the inner lining of your vaginal walls, slick oozing out of your hole, a mixture of his semen and your juices forming.

The pain in your leg throbs as he pushes your leg up, causing you to whimper. You tried to hold in your moans, the feeling of the head of his cock hitting your cervix was overwhelming. Instead, grunts replaced the moans with each firm thrust against your ass. The hand on your leg tightens as you watch his eyes narrow down at you with his lips apart.

“This pussy is mine. Your cum is mine. Everything about you…” a thrust with a loud smack against your ass caused a moan to slip through his throat. “…is mine.”

Your head is pressed against the mattress as you feel the pit in your stomach release, the chemical reaction causing your mouth to open as a silent scream leaves your throat, eyes rolled back as he continues to beat into your pussy.

“Ah…” Mikey breathes, “…that’s fucking right, cum on this cock.” He said before using his fingers to press onto your wound made by the baton. You scream out in agony. The chains jingle as you pull against the restraints.

“You’ll learn. You’re gonna learn to listen to me.” He breathes out before switching his eyes to Rin.

“M-Mikey pl-!” You whimper, pleading for him to stop as you’re overstimulated, though his cock keeps its pace, assaulting your pussy as it slides through harder. Blood runs down your wrists, coming from the split skin caused by your nails. You accidentally glance at Ran who stares down at you hungrily. You could see the lust in his intense gaze, causing you to turn away.

“I don’t care how close you were or even the little crush you have on her. You will ask before touching her, got it?”

“Yes, boss.” Both Kazutora and Sanzu respond with stern expressions.

“N-No! What are you…?!” A loud crack fills the air amongst the sound of the rocking bed as your eyes shut tight, a monstrous scream escaped your lips as the pressure on your ankle created a numbing yet sharp pain that swam up your leg to your knee. You shakily look down to see your limp leg in Rin’s hand, ankle bent out of place as your foot hangs there. A swelling started to form as the skin tingled. It was surely broken.

“GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF OF ME RIGHT NOW!” You’re hysterical. The pain, overstimulation, and heat. The betrayal, sickness, and depression. The sorrow, despair, and downright filthy situation. All of the eyes on you. It was all just too much.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!” His forehead meets yours as his hands grab the sides of your face. His eyes shut as he thrusts hard, accelerating his speed before a breathy, drawn out moan escapes his mouth, just as Rin grabbed your other ankle.

Kazutora and Sanzu sit with discomfort as they angrily eye the Haitani brothers, realizing it should’ve been them holding your legs and punishing you. After all, they’ve known you the longest. They were closer to you. They were there for everything. Their erections become tighter as you thrash around and scream. Your rage fulfills them in an unexplainable way. They never knew why your rebellion always struck them in the heart. Who knew they’d be this stuck over their friend’s little bratty sister.

“I’m cumming.” Mikey whispers with his head against yours as he breathes out a moan. He grinds out his orgasm just as another crack fills the room, followed by an appalling scream from you. You cry as he pulls himself out of you. The swelling from both legs tingle as you lie there in terrible pain. Agony comes from your neck and both of your legs. As well as your vagina. You couldn’t believe what your own brother just did.

“I hate you.” You sob. You wanted to curl into yourself but the restraints made it impossible.

“Awe don’t cry so much, cookie.” A thumb caressed your forehead as Ran stared you down. “All ya gotta do is be good, now.”

“Or else…” Rin chuckled as he slightly dangled one of your broken ankles. You only sob in response, ignoring them as you try to refrain from making eye contact. You wanted to disappear.

Before he climbs off of you, Mikey leans over to plant a kiss on your lips. You don’t push him back nor respond to the peck. He pulls his pants up as he walks toward the other executives.

“Do what you will, just have her cleaned and brought to my room after.”

“I’ll always be the one to protect you, Y/n. You belong to me.”

You look into the eyes of your older brother, tears in your own as you hug him tight. You both sat on the ground in front of Shinichiro’s grave.

“You’ll learn.”

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 17: Stay

You and Joel figure out where you stand. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-16 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Insanely mild smut. Allusion to past SA (not described.) Canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 4.1k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The bed was empty and cold when Joel woke up. 

He reached for you instinctively, his fingers searching in the dark and finding nothing but cool sheets, taking him from half asleep to wide awake in an instant. 

“Bambi?” He said into the dark, but he knew you weren’t going to respond. 

He got up and pulled his pants and t-shirt back on before he half walked, half ran to the bathroom. But you weren’t there, either. 

“Bambi?” He called a louder this time, hoping you’d reply but, somehow, knowing you wouldn’t. 

He looked quickly through his house before taking a deep breath and running his fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself down, reminding himself he didn’t have a reason to panic, not really. 

You’d shown up at his door a few hours earlier and literally thrown yourself at him. Not that he was arguing. He was just happy you were still speaking to him, your anxious distance in the days before making him worry. He’d have waited however long you needed him to but damn he wanted to be able to just talk to you, at least talk to you. And then you were there, in his arms, kissing him, pressing your warm, soft body into his and begging for him. 

If he was a stronger man, he would have resisted you. Told you to think about it first, made sure you were actually OK with this and not just caving to a baser instinct. But he wasn’t a strong man, not when you were standing before him, beautiful and wanting and begging for him.

He tugged on his shoes without bothering with socks or to even tie them and he went to your place first. The lamp was off and he doubted that you’d left the house a few hours earlier without turning it on. He knocked and pressed his face to the glass of your front door and saw the chest that you put in front of the door when you were home was shoved to the side. So you’d been here and left again. 

“Fuck,” he spat, forcing himself to breathe for a second. What if he’d driven you away? What if you never wanted to speak to him again after this? Fuck, what if you’d left Jackson entirely? 

It would take a lot to make Joel regret something that felt as good and as right as you in his bed. But he’d regret it for the rest of his life if that’s all he had of you. 

Even though he felt as though he’d like to live inside you if you’d let him, like he wanted to spend the rest of his fucking life making you come around him, he’d be fine never having you like that again if it meant you’d just talk to him, if you’d just stay. He wanted to be near you, to know you, to make you happy more than he wanted to fuck you, so much more. All he wanted in the world, it seemed, was for you to let him love you. You didn’t even need to love him back, just let him near enough to do the loving for the both of you. That would be plenty. 

He ran to the stables, the pink hint of dawn on the horizon, praying that he’d find you there. That he’d find you singing quietly to a horse or mucking a stall, that you’d be safe and comfortable in your most natural space. 

He slowed to a walk when he got close, the lights on inside. It had to be you - it was too early for Olivia to be there - and he didn’t want to scare you. 

But the relief when he actually found you inside was still harsh, almost knocking the air out of him. You were here. You hadn’t left, hadn’t taken off because of him. 

You were brushing down Shimmer, singing something softly to her, so softly that he couldn’t make it out, just hear the cadence of your voice. Another time, another place - somewhere he hadn’t just been inside you and loved it more than anything he’d felt before but would give anything to take it back if it meant that you’d come back and play guitar on his goddamn porch just one more time - and he’d enjoy this. Watching you work, listen to your soft song. 

But he couldn’t wait, not now. 

“Hey,” he said quietly from the doorway. You jumped and spun, your eyes wide for a moment before you slumped against Shimmer’s side. 

“Jesus, Joel,” the hand not holding the brush went to your chest, covering your heart. “Scared the shit outta me. Need to put a damn bell on you, swear to God…” 

You turned and went back to brushing the horse and he frowned, crossing his arms and coming closer to you. You glance over at him but don’t flinch or shrink back or try to hide. A good sign, he figured. 

“What?” You ask after a moment, your eyebrows raised. 

For half a moment, Joel wondered if he’d dreamed the night before. If you’d never come to his house, never been in his bed. But he remembered you too vividly for that. His mind couldn’t create something like you, of that he was certain. 

“What are you doin’ here, Bambi?” He asked gently. 

“My job?” You said it like a question, looked at him like he was insane. 

“Bambi.” 

You stopped brushing Shimmer and instead looked at him, your eyes still wide, almost pleading. 

“You were just… gone,” he said softly. “I woke up and you weren’t there.” 

You pressed your lips together into a thin line and looked over his shoulder, like you weren’t able to really look at him at all. 

“I…” Your voice cracked. “I couldn’t sleep. I could at first but then I couldn’t and I just needed something I could handle for a bit and I…” 

You trailed off and your eyes met his again, all soft and vulnerable and he hoped the fear that he’d managed to fuck things up with you wasn’t showing on his face. 

“Are you OK?” He asked gently, wishing he could just hold you and kiss you and know that it would make things better. He wasn’t sure if it would. 

You nodded but didn’t say anything. 

“Can I help?” He asked after a moment. He’d do anything you asked of him, anything at all, even if that was to leave you alone as much as he desperately hoped that wasn’t what you wanted. 

“Can you hold me for a minute?” You asked softly, uncertain. As if that wasn’t all he wanted to do, anyway. As if he would deny you anything, especially that. 

He wordlessly pulled you against him and felt you hesitate before wrapping your arms around him, fingers knotting in his shirt as you clung to his back to press yourself close. His hand drifted to your head, holding you close and kissing you over your hair, breathing you in. 

“I’m sorry I left,” you said, your strained voice muffled by his shirt. 

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” he said, focusing on the feeling of you in his arms. You were still there. You hadn’t run. You were safe.

After a few minutes, your grip on him lessened and he pulled back enough to look at you, taking your face in his hand. 

“Let me make you breakfast,” he said. You nodded and he took your hand and led you home. 

***

“I feel bad,” you sat perched on Joel’s counter near the stove, watching him cook. 

“Don’t,” he smiled a little at you. 

“But…” 

“When was the last time someone cooked for you?” He asked. “Because I feel like it’s been a while.” 

“Besides the time you made me chips?” You asked. “And not countin’ the mess hall people?” 

He nodded. You sighed and rapped your nails on the underside of the counter. 

“Yeah, alright, it’s been a few years,” you said. He gave you a look. “Fine, alright, almost 14 years, Jesus…” 

You were pretty sure Marisa was the last person who had cooked for you. There had been other folks you traded with but no one who stayed long enough to do something as intimate cook for you in your home. 

Joel smiled again. 

“So sit there and let me,” he said. “This is part of me lookin’ out for you so get used to it.” 

The walk back to Joel’s should have felt awkward. You thought it should, anyway. You’d basically fled the man’s house under the cover of darkness because you woke up in a panic you couldn’t place and he looked so peaceful in the moonlight that you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb him. 

It was a strange sensation, waking up like that with him. Part of you wanted nothing more than to curl against his side and cling to him, breathe in the smell of his skin and feel the warmth of him and soak up everything that meant. Joel was safety. You knew that, felt it deep in you, especially after the night before. 

But you were still so accustomed to relying on no one else. It’s not like you’d had someone you could lean on, someone to help take care of you or protect you, for most of your time before coming to Jackson. In the years at the cabin, Mark had been there for a while, as had Marisa. But that totaled months over the span of years. You were all you could count on and you were safest on your own. 

So you’d left, trying to shove down the gnawing want to be next to him in favor of satisfying the need to control what you could take control of. You could go home, you could get dressed - not willing to shower to wash the smell of Joel off your skin or the feel of his come from inside yourself - you could go take care of the horses. You could pretend like nothing had happened and nothing had changed and like you hadn’t put yourself in such a vulnerable position. Even if it was with Joel, the person you trusted more than any other. The person you wanted. 

Even after sleeping with him, you wanted him. More than you could remember wanting anyone else. You still wanted him, even when you were afraid of that want. So it was a relief when he showed up at the stables. Relieved that he’d still want to see you when part of you - part that you couldn’t quite pinpoint - was too panicked to go see him. Even though you wanted to. 

Joel, it seemed, understood. 

When you made it in the door at his house, you stopped and pulled him against you, just holding onto him for a moment. His arms went around you and he pressed his lips into your hair as you buried your face in his shoulder, breathing deep. 

“Want to tell me about it?” He asked quietly. 

You sighed, not entirely sure where to start. 

“I’m not used to having people,” you said. “Hell, even here, for a while, I only had Ellie. And she’s a great kid but she’s a kid. I looked out for her, not the other way around. Before you, I haven’t had someone I can turn to in a long time. And I’m really not used it.” 

“Think you can get used to it?” He asked quietly. “Because I want this with you.” 

“Want what?” You asked back. 

He shrugged. 

“As much of you as you’ll give me.” 

You pulled back from him just enough to look up at him, his eyes so soft and deep, like he was totally open to you, like you could reach right inside his mind and he’d welcome you there. 

“I’m kind of a lot, Joel,” you said. 

He shrugged. 

“Like you that way. I’ve been about where you are. I’ve hurt. It’s hard enough, I don’t want you to do it alone, not when you don’t have to. I just want to help, I want to be there for you. If you’ll let me.” 

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you just stretched up and kissed him, your arms going around his neck, pressing yourself tightly against the front of him. He moaned into your mouth for a moment before separating from you. 

“C’mon,” he said, sounding a little breathless. “Promised you breakfast and we both have jobs to get to.” 

Joel fried eggs and potatoes and bacon and toasted bread, all while refusing help from you. But you did grab him by the shirt and pull him between your legs to kiss him as potatoes and bacon sizzled, his hands finding your hips - making you jump, still not used to someone touching you there because you wanted it - and his tongue slipping into your mouth as he did. 

He walked you back to the stables after breakfast and you pulled him inside with you to kiss him properly without the rest of the world seeing it. 

“Can I see you tonight?” He asked, pressing you back against the wall of the barn. 

“Sure hope so,” you smiled. Somehow, all the fear you’d woken up with that morning had faded and eased. In its place was a gentle reassurance, something unexpectedly calm mixed with the passion and the burning need you had for him. “Can I come over?” 

He smiled a little. 

“Unless you want me to come to you.” 

“I like your house,” you replied. “Feels like I can get to know you better in it.” 

He smiled and kissed you again. 

“Mine then.” 

There was a strange feeling in your chest the whole day after he left. It was like the last quarter century hadn’t even happened. The closest thing you had to compare it to was when you and Justin went from fucking to something more, this warm giddiness threatening to explode out of you at any moment. 

Even the horses could feel it in you, the ones you were still training a little friskier than normal that day, bounding through the paddock at top speeds, bouncing a little higher on their trots than usual. 

For the first time you realized that, as much as you’d loved Mark and Marisa, the relationships had developed in such an unnatural state. You had been two people who were isolated, two people so cut off from the rest of humanity that you may as well have been the last people on earth. You may have fallen for them regardless in a less extreme environment because you had genuinely loved them. Loved Mark’s tendency to make silly little songs out of everything and Marisa’s uncanny ability to find something bright in anything. 

But there was an inevitability in those pairings that made it feel less monumental when they came to fruition. 

Joel was different. 

While things with him felt intense to the point that it seemed like you were supposed to know him in this way - as much as any one person is supposed to know another - it wasn’t out of necessity or because you’d been relying on the other to survive for long enough that the only thing left to do was love each other. 

Instead, it was like you’d both identified something alike in each other. You saw in him someone like yourself. Someone who had been alone for a long time, someone who didn’t always belong where others did, someone who knew the agony of profound loss. 

You still weren’t entirely sure what Joel had survived. You weren’t going to ask him about it but you wanted to know it all the same. Not to satisfy some perverse curiosity but because you longed to know him, all of him, and because you hoped he wanted you to know him that way, too. Even the things that were great and terrible. Whatever had gone into making him who he was now you wanted to know. 

But, for now, you wanted to remember how to fold yourself into the life of someone else. It wasn’t something you had a lot of experience in to begin with. You’d been young enough when the outbreak happened that your relationships had been casual and fun. No one you had been with was so established in their life that there was much to adjust around. After the outbreak, there was no one else beyond the people you were with. This was new territory, something that seemed both invigorating and intimidating all at once. 

It started, intentionally or otherwise, that evening. Joel met you at the stable after he finished his work for the day - he and Tommy repairing part of the wall that protected Jackson that had worn down with weather and time. 

“Thought we could head to the mess hall together when you’re done,” he said, looking up at you as you sat on the back of a particularly antsy horse that wasn’t quite well broke. 

“Sure,” you smiled a little at Joel trying to make you a part of his daily life. “Let me finish up with Pandora here, but I’ll be a little bit…” 

“That’s fine,” he shrugged, leaning back against a fence post. “Like watching you with them.” 

You smiled at that. Before Justin, most of the men on the ranch were bothered by your skill with horses. You had your flaws but false modesty wasn’t one of them. You knew you were good with animals, that you were better at training horses than any of the other hands on the ranch. You never tried to act like you weren’t and that got under their skin. They resented it, resented your attitude about it. Like God had given a gift to someone undeserving who didn’t even have the decency to pretend like she was benefitting from some ill-gotten gains. 

Joel was different. Maybe it was just who he was at his core, maybe it was the difference between the young men who were closer to boys you’d been around then and the man he was now but his eyes on you as you worked still settled comfortably over you. 

When Pandora got spooked by a loud, sharp sound and immediately bucked and your hand flew to the rear of the saddle to hold on while she thrashed and hurled her large head, seemingly desperate to dislodge you when she was afraid, you were almost worried that Joel was going to judge you for not having her better controlled. 

Instead, when your eyes found his again once Pandora had settled, he was watching you with a look of almost awe on his face. You smiled at that, at the pride that was lingering there on him. Like the fact that you knew your way around a horse was a reason he liked you, not something he needed to get over.

He went with you to your house after you finished up and did the last of the work you needed to do at the stables and you rushed through your evening shower - feeling better about the idea of washing him off you knowing you were going to be able to press yourself against his skin again later - and packed a small bag that you dropped off at Joel’s before heading to the mess hall. 

You sat with Tommy and Maria like you often did when having dinner there, little William happily gnawing on slices of peach his mother was handing him before you offered to hold him while Maria ate, Joel’s hand on the small of your back the entire time. 

She got up to change him part way through dinner and Tommy watched until she was out of sight before he rounded on you and Joel. 

“You two fucked,” he didn’t ask it so much as state it as fact. You choked on your water, eyes wide. 

“Jesus Christ Tommy,” Joel hissed at him. “Can you keep it down?” 

“I knew it!” He said, triumphant. “About fuckin’ time.” He turned to you. “So, how’d he finally seduce you? He play you sappy song on his guitar?” 

You cleared your throat, water no longer threatening to choke you. 

“Tommy, I swear to God…” 

“It’s fine,” you cut Joel off before looking to Tommy. “I actually threw myself at him. I know, not something that would occur to you because no woman’s ever even thought to try that with you, but…” 

Tommy was silent for a moment before he burst out laughing. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Joel, you keep her,” he said, breathless, as Maria came back with William, frowning at her husband. “She’ll loosen you up a bit.” 

Joel smiled. 

“Was hoping to keep her as long as she’ll have me.” 

You smiled back. 

It was Joel who proposed guitar when the two of you got back to his place. He started with it, playing a Clapton song you hadn’t heard in forever. He passed it off to you next and you went with Something by the Beatles. After a few songs, he stopped taking it back and insisted you keep playing. 

“It’s your guitar,” you said, brows raised. 

He shrugged. 

“You’re better with it than me,” he said. 

“You’re really fucking good, Joel.” 

“I know,” he smiled a little. “You’re still better.” 

It shifted then, to you absentmindedly playing while talking with him, remembering things about life in Texas so many years ago, the fact that he thought he saw you ride at the state fair once, when he thought about it. He went to a rodeo in a year you competed, remembered marveling at bronc and bull riding and that there was one young woman who blew past everyone else’s time in barrels and poles. 

“Just think,” you said, watching him, your hands still on the guitar now. “We were that close to each other and didn’t know it. Then we both wound up here.” 

“Guess I was just always supposed to be amazed by you is all,” he smiled. 

You couldn’t help it then, setting the guitar down and crossing the couch to straddle him. He took a deep, shuddering breath, his hands going to your hips, thumbs sliding up below your shirt to brush the skin below. 

“Don’t have to do this right now,” he said quietly. “If you’re not feeling ready…” 

“I’m ready,” you replied softly before you kissed him. 

“Should be more careful this time,” he said, his hands going below the back of your shirt. “Wasn’t thinkin’ right last night, should have pulled out…” 

“Don’t need to worry about that,” you said, lips back on his, his mouth hungry on your own. “Don’t think I can get pregnant, it’s OK.” 

He pulled back a little and looked up at you, his eyebrows drawn together. 

“What?” You frowned. “Is that… is that OK? I didn’t…” 

“No, course it’s OK,” he shook his head a little. “But are you OK? How do you know?” 

“Think it’s a blessing,” you shrugged. “Don’t exactly want to bring a child into this mess of a world, kept me from getting pregnant when… Seems like it’s the only reason things have gone the way they have for me. Not like I’ve been on the pill the last few years. It’s been a good thing, Joel. I’m OK.” 

He just looked at you for a moment, his eyes so gentle it almost hurt to look at him, and he kissed you again, his hands growing firmer against your skin. 

It was different in his bed that night. You rode him slowly, his hands and lips everywhere on you  as you took him deep inside yourself, the fiery ache in you longing to devour and be devoured. It was slow and steady and patient, getting to know his body as he got to know yours. When you fell asleep tangled in his limbs and his sheets, you pressed your nose to his throat, his skin more a comfort to you than any coat or shirt. 

“Stay with me this time,” he said quietly, his voice on the edge of sleep, his hands splayed wide on your skin so he was touching as much of you as he could. “If you can.” 

You pressed yourself somehow closer to him. 

“I’m staying, Joel,” you yawned in spite of yourself. “Not going anywhere without you.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Awww they're so happy!

....for now

BUT FOCUS ON THE HAPPY PART OK?

OK.

I have an updates blog! You can find it here and subscribe for an alert when I share a new chapter or one shot. This seems to be more reliable than tag lists!

Thank you for reading! There's so much more left to explore with these two and I'm so excited to share it all with you. Thank you for spending your time with this story, I so appreciate you. Love you!!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

[humanitysstrongestsoldier1]

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 | 𝑀. 𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐸𝐼 x Reader

TW: cursing, explicit sexual content

AO3 LINK!!!

Summary:

"Shut up and listen." - Nicholas Bonnin, Shut Up And Listen

Omagari Hanabi (Omagari Fireworks Festival) had its perks.

Some being;

a annual party at Hanamaki Takahiro’s house,

Oikawa fully drunk and dancing on the table, stripping,

and Matsukawa Issei’s face between your legs.

~~~~

Notes:

Yokoso, watashi no Tumblr society...

a 4th of July gift, from me, to you

it's been a while since i've written lol, i love 2nd person

I'm tired of hiding my obsession with seijoh men (daisho suguru and kiyoomi still my mans, omg i have matching moles with Kiyoomi on my arm lol, i flex that all the time)

oikawa's dumb ass uses gen alpha humour 💀

okay... i took one look at the fireworks and my brain went 'imagine being at a party and matsukawa issei fucks you with the door open, but the fireworks cover the sounds'..... my hands went immediately to my keyboard....

i felt like a traitor writing this cuz i was listening to a gojo playlist lmfaoo

~~~~

Hanamaki flops down next to you on your bed after losing a card game of Speed. The two of you are card game fans, and you spend your time together learning new ones and mastering old ones. 

The bet was that if he won, you would have to come to his annual party that he holds during the Omagari Firework Festival. Unfortunately for him, he lost.

"Y/N, please, can you just come by for a little while? We promise to not bother you; if it gets annoying, you have full access to my room.” Makki asks, jumping up and holding your hands up in front of you with pleading eyes.

Makki’s parties are always headaches, and the only way that you would possibly go is if there was someone to keep you to the earth.

“Is Hajime going to be there?” You say, removing your hands from his grip.

"Yes, he’ll be there! Mattsun will be there too.” Makki says, suggestively while smirking at the mention of Matsukawa’s name.

He’s going to be there, huh? Now that's pushing me to go.

“Don’t give me that look, Hanamaki; I will bitch-slap you.”

“Ah,” he dramatically gasps, holding a hand to his heart, looking baffled. “I’m trying to get you laid, hoe. I know the way you look at him.”

“Yeah? How do I look at him?” You ask, your patience running thin.

“It’s the ‘bend me over the table and fuck me till I can’t walk for weeks’ look.” He grins.

Your eyes widen, and warmth pools in your cheeks. 

Do I seriously have that look towards him?

“Hanamaki Takahiro, you have 10 seconds to get out of my room and apartment before I change my mind about coming. Ten, nine, eight-”

By the eighth second. Makki was out of sight and out of mind.

Great, now you have to find an outfit.

— — —

"Y/N-chan, you made it!” Tooru pulls you inside from the crowd at the door and traps you in a hug. He was obviously drunk from the looks of it, and it did not help that he was half naked.

"Tooru, get your stanky, sweaty ass off of me.” Pushing him off, you head towards Iwaizumi, who waves to you from the kitchen.

"NOOO, Y/N-chan, come backkk!” Oikawa whines, trying to reach for your shirt but then being distracted by a drinking contest.

You immediately run from the six-foot setter to Iwaizumi, who pulls you into a gentle embrace.

“Hey, green bean. I’m shocked to see you here.” He whispers against your ear, and you pull back a bit, grasping his elbows while he holds your forearms, close but easily identifiable as friends.

“Makki said that you would be here, so I don’t really mind.”

“You sure it was for me, or a certain someone?” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, like Makki five hours ago.

You sigh, bringing a hand up to hide your blushing cheeks. “Not you too, Hajime.”

“What? Literally, the entire team has thought you two are cute ever since that beach volleyball day.” He smiles, moving your hand to meet your eyes.

That day, 3 months ago, was one to revel in.

The sun was blaring, and the boys wanted to play volleyball in a different environment. You helped them set up and tracked their movements, just in case they wanted a summary.

After playing, you all jumped in the water and goofed around. One specific game lit a fire in the spark you had for Matsukawa Issei.

You were on Iwaizumi’s shoulders, while Matsukawa was on Hanamaki’s.

Yahaba cheered you on from the side, and Kindaichi laughed at the struggling Makki, holding Matsukawa’s tall ass.

“Ready, set, go!” Oikawa yells, signalling the start of the wrestle.

You laugh full-heartedly while escaping Matsukawa’s attacks. You grab onto his shoulders and try to push him off of Makki, but he stands ever-strong and smirks at your will.

“Come on, dove, you can do better than that.” He laughs.

“Oh yeah?” You grin, an idea popping up in your cunning mind.

“Oh yeah.” He repeats, dragging on the sentence a bit longer.

“Hajime, loosen your grip on my thighs.” You holler, and Iwaizumi follows quickly to your idea.

“What-” Matsukawa starts but is immediately cut off by your jump, which launches him off of Makki’s shoulders and into the water.

He grabs onto your arms before you can return to Iwaizumi’s shoulders. If he was going down, he would take you with him.

The warm water met your skin, and a small wave disrupted your balance, and you couldn't make your way back up. Matsukawa’s hands pulled you up under your arms, and you emerged, taking a deep breath.

His hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you against him, skin to skin.

Matsukawa’s other hand moved the hair out of your face and brushed it behind your ear. “Cute.” He says, narrowing his eyes, a tug on his lips that curled them upwards.

You blushed at his sharp eyes, and to ignore the heat on your chest, you remembered his earlier action.

"Mattsu, you little shit, you dragged me with you!”

He laughs as you are pulled back by Oikawa, who requires your strong shoulders to go against Iwaizumi.

That day, they all heard the aloof Matsukawa Issei call a girl cute.

Snapping out of the memory, you flick Iwaizumi’s head. “Keep quiet about that! He literally only complimented me. He doesn't need to know about this.” You point to your heart, referencing your feelings for him.

“Who doesn't need to know about what?” A gruff voice appears behind you, and your eyes widen before relaxing and putting on a calm expression. Iwaizumi smirks at your red face.

“Mattsu! Hey!” You turn around and give him a quick hug, making sure not to linger for long. “I was just talking about the surprise party that we planned for Tooru; his birthday is next week, remember.”

His cute eyebrows raise, and he remembers the plan they set up for July 20. “Oh yeah, that.”

“Imma leave ya’ll to it.” Iwaizumi turns towards the large crowd heading towards Watari as he ushers him in for company.

“Haji-” You are cut off by a look from Iwaizumi, the classic dad look that is asking you to socialise for once.

Matsukawa chuckles. “Am I not enough, dove?”

You smirk, raising your head to meet his hooded eyes, a surge of confidence in you. “You're more than enough.”

He raises his glass to his upturned lips, his eyes tracing your body as you grab a drink from the drink counter.

The two of you stood next to each other in silence, your preferred company. Matsukwa’s shoulders would brush your every now and then to the sway of music. It was calm with him—for now.

“I'm gonna go throw my cup away, you done with yours?” You ask, your thumb pointing to the large trash can on the other side of the room.

Matsukawa smiled and handed you his empty cup. "Thanks, dove.”

You blush at his smile and head towards the trash can. Pushing through the crowd, the smell of alcohol and vape overwhelms you.

You absolutely abstain from drinking and smoking, which is why your cup held punch instead of alcohol. That's another reason you hate parties.

As you walked through, a girl in front of you accidentally tripped over her feet, and her drink flew at your white shirt, soaking it entirely.

“Oh my god! I'm so sorry; I really didn't mean to do that.” She apologises profusely, and you sigh, knowing it was not her fault.

You help her up and reassure her that it's alright, and she makes up for her mistake by grabbing the empty cups from your hands to help you out. You whisper a small thank you.

Before you could walk through to find some napkins, a hand grabbed the back of your upper arm and pulled you flush against their chest.

It’s Iwazumi.

“Hajime what-” 

He cuts you off and pulls you closer, whispering in your ear, “Your bra is showing, sunshine.”

Oh.

“Stay behind me.” Iwaizumi pushes you behind him and heads for the stairs. But God decides to be a pain in his ass and throws a hurdle at him—quite literally.

Oikawa Tooru’s shorts launch at Iwaizumi and land on his face.

You peek from behind him and see Oikawa almost naked with his boxers on, dancing, and perched on the table with Yahaba trying to pull him down. Kindaichi is recording the scene and Kunimi is running to the other side for a different angle.

“SHITTYKAWA!” Iwaizumi bellows his voice, reaching Oikawa over the loud music.

Tooru’s eyes widen, and he stops dancing.

Makki appears next to you and drapes his jacket over your soaked body.

“Iwa, go get his ass; I’ll take her from here.” Hanamaki hollers.

You nod to Iwaizumi, letting him know it's okay, and he runs to Oikawa, who is already screaming for his life.

You lightly laugh, and Makki snickers, grabbing your hand and leading you upstairs into his room.

“As promised, full access to my room; take a shower if you are feeling icky. My closet’s all yours.” He smiles and exits the room.

You holler a quick, “Thanks, Hiro!” as he closes the door behind him.

You head over to his restroom, which, mind you, is really fucking nice. You're about to strip off the sticky shirt and clean off the alcohol on you, but you hear a knock on the door.

You walk over and open the door to which Matsukawa is standing at.

He drags his lazy eyes down your figure, a couple of seconds lingering on your chest where your bra is peeking out from.

“What are you-” You ask before being pushed lightly back.

“Fuck, Y/N. Get out of that shirt.” He groans.

“I mean, I was just about to before you barged in.” You sigh, heading over to Makki’s walk-in closet, looking for a comfortable shirt that could match your skirt.

Matsukawa also walks in and immediately goes to a certain area, as if he knows what's there.

“Here, wear this.” He says, handing you the all-familiar jersey. It's his number as well, number 2.

“No way he has extras of everyone's number.” You snicker.

Matsukawa snorts, “He says he wants it as a memory when we graduate.”

You hum, and the two of you head out of the closet.

But before you went to the bathroom to change, you turned.

“Mattsu?”

“Yeah?” He looks up, a blush on his cheeks at your appearance.

“Why did you follow me up here? And why, out of 16 numbers, hand me yours?”

He stops in his tracks, his eyes widening before they relax, he sighs, and a smirk stretches across his face.

“You want the truth, dove?”

The air-conditioned room starts feeling extremely hot, and you try to relax, but the hairs on the back of your neck are rising as he stalks his way over to you.

Walking backwards, he traps you next to the wall of the bathroom door. The light above the mirror shines out and onto his face.

“Mattsu.” You whisper, trying to get away, but he has complete control over your movements.

He pushes you back completely against the wall, his hands on your waist and his knee between your thighs.

A small moan erupts from your throat, and you turn your head to the side, hiding away from his strong gaze.

He leans down and whispers huskily into your ear, “Seeing you exposed like that and being pulled into Iwaizumi’s arms made me really fucking jealous, princess.”

He nips at your neck, and you whine at the feeling.

“This,” he whispers while dragging the tip of his finger down the middle of your chest to rest at your stomach, “is mine to see.”

“Mattsu…” You groan.

He darkly laughs, “You should know by now, you're mine.”

Matsukawa pulls back, his hooded eyes meeting your sultry gaze.

“But I thought—”

“You thought what? You were mine the moment you became our manager; you were mine from the moment we bunked together on our camping trip; you were mine when you fed me your mom’s cooking; you were mine when I called you cute at the beach.”

You still at his words and feel his hands move towards your bare thighs, spreading them apart.

“Especially that day, Y/N. The entire team heard me; they knew that you were mine. So you thought, what exactly?”

You muster up the courage to say, “I thought you wouldn't reciprocate my feelings.”

He chuckles, "Oh, naive little dove. I did feel the same, I do, and I always will.”

Matsukawa’s lips meet yours, and you gasp into his mouth. You feel his smirk as he pushes his knee closer to your core.

At this point, you were grinding like a bitch in heat on him, and Matsukawa fucking loved it.

His hands made it to your soaked shirt and yanked it off, leaving your upper body almost bare.

You swore you heard a low growl from the back of his throat before he latched onto the mounds of your breasts. His hand sneaked back and unclasped your bra, throwing it across the room.

Matsukawa’s warm mouth left open-mouthed kisses down the expanse of your neck, making sure to leave behind purple bruises to make you his.

He kissed the valley of your chest, where your heart was, and whispered a light, “mine.”

His tongue swirls at the bud of your nipple, and you throw your head back against the wall, hands going to his dark hair, tugging. He tastes the leftover flavour of alcohol on your skin and moves to the other side of your chest, giving your girls fair treatment. You sink lower on his knee and feel your clit getting swollen with beloved attention.

“Mattsu. Bed. Now.”

He released your tit with a low ‘pop’ and smirked at your lustful eyes. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed. You both kick off your shoes and immediately get back to each other's skin.

“Tell me what you want, dove.” Matsukawa moves down to your legs, flipping up your skirt and kissing your inner thighs.

Sighing at the feeling, you murmur, “Your tongue, please, baby. Need you so bad.”

He smiles on your skin. “You sound so fucked out, and I barely touched you, babe.”

You groan as he drags a finger down your clothed slit.

“Shall I eat you out through this lacy number, or be balls deep in you with your panties to the side, hm?”

You can't even speak; your eyes are shut, and beads of sweat are falling from your hairline.

“Just touch me, please; I’ll do anything~”

He kisses your clit through your panties before removing them and throwing them where your shoes are. 

“Y/N” He moves up, tapping on the side of your cheek to open your eyes. “Look at me when I make you come on my tongue.”

Never leaving your gaze, he moves down, his face between your legs, just as you wanted.

He licks a slow, tantalising swipe up your lips to meet your swollen, puffy clit. The tip of his tongue swirls around the bundle of nerves, and he looks up to meet your watery eyes.

"Mattsu, oh my, fuck! Wait, the door is still open!” You screech lightly, trying to push him off even when you don't want to.

“Shut up and listen; do you hear those loud ass fireworks?” He utters against your pussy.

You look out the window, where hundreds of fireworks burst, and the light from them illuminates the dark room. You hadn't even noticed them; your attention was fully on Mattsu.

He continues his attack on your supple flesh, and you arch into the mattress, choking back a loud moan.

“Mattsu~”

“Issei, dove. I want my name to come out of that pretty mouth of yours, understand?”

“Yes, yes, Issei, oh fuckk.” You cried out, your hands lost in his soft hair, as he lapped at your soaking cunt.

A rippling feeling pushed through your lower body as you creamed on Issei’s tongue.

“Thats it, dove, fuck you look so pretty . Need to be in you, please.” Issei rasped while biting your neck.

“Issei, please~ in- in, me ah~” You wantonly moan as he plunges two fingers into your cunt, immediately brushing your G-spot.

Issei rips off his shirt and pulls down his shorts and boxers. You shudder at the utter length of him and pull him into a kiss from the back of his neck. 

Teasingly, your hands feel his abs while moving lower and lower.

Your thumb grazes his slit, and Issei hisses, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. You slowly pump up and down, his precum helping you to his satisfaction.

"Fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck, lord, there, just like that, fucking Christ," he whines, kissing the conjecture between your neck and shoulder.

You laugh. “Taking God’s name in vain?”

He gulps, his voice shaky. “I have no need for a god when I have a goddess like you to worship.”

Issei’s hands gently play with the plush of your stomach as you continue stroking him.

You can hear him, his heartbeat increasing, his temperature rising, his palms getting sweatier, and just when he’s about to feel ecstasy, he grabs both of your hands and pins them above your head.

“No baby, wanna be inside you, pleasee~” He cries out. 

He reaches his hands to the side table next to the bed and says, “gotta be some condoms here-”

“Issei, baby, I'm on the pill.” You pull him back towards you.

“Oh fuck, yes, dove, I get to feel you, all of you.”

You smile gently and bring him into a kiss. At this point, he’s so sex-crazed that he's fucking your mouth with his. 

Issei slowly sits his cock inside you, the feeling of being full, pleasuring you to another level of the universe.

He pulls away, his forehead touches yours, and he kisses the tip of your nose. “Lift your hips for me, dove.”

You comply, and he helps you, digging his fingers into your hips.

“OH FUCKKK~” You jolt, biting the back of your hand to quiet your moans. This new position had you almost fading to black.

“Y/N, don't hide that pretty voice from me now. Everyone’s outside; let me hear you.” He says, in a needy way.

His hips snap with yours, creating a steady rhythm. The sound of skin slapping skin spread across the dark room, and Issei took in the sight of you completely. Eyes full of lust, your cunt wrapped around his cock, legs around his waist—the different colours of the fireworks illuminating your supple body. 

He steadily continues at the same pace, but just when you are about to reach your second high of the night, he loses that rhythm and pulls out.

Holding your hips, he lands on the mattress on his back with you on top. Issei guides your hips and sinks you down his cock.

“Oh Issei, god, oh my , fuck.” This angle had his bulb fucking your cervix, and you swore that the window behind the bed had stars instead of fireworks.

Issei lifted your hips up and down the length of him, and he threw his head back against the bed. “Fuck baby, you feel so good.”

He hiked your skirt up, saw how your pussy wrapped around his twitching cock, and lewdly moaned at the sight. The rhythm continued, and waves of fire pooled in your lower abdomen. 

Again and again and again.

Your thighs flexed as you rode him, tits bouncing; you saw his cock disappearing in your body. Issei’s hands played around with your breasts, teasingly flicking your nipples and kneading the flesh.

Finally, you dissolved into the pleasure as if a tight coil unravelled after being wound up. 

“Issei, baby, im cumming , oh fuck, im cumming, oh godd .”

Fireworks—literally and metaphorically—burst from your vision as you came down from high. 

He let you breathe before pulling out and flipping you on to your back again. Your knees pushed flush against your chest, and he thrust, burying himself inside you again.

You were overstimulated, but you wanted more and more from him.

His hips continued pounding. “Y/N, dove, fuck, can I cum inside, please, baby, please.”

You mewled out a quiet 'yes, baby’ and he took exception to that.

Soon you felt his warm, sticky seed coating your walls, and you came once again.

“Issei~

“Love you, baby; I love you so much.” He says, pulling out.

“I love you too ‘Sei; I love you brighter than these fireworks.” You coo, pulling him into your embrace.

After staying in each other’s embrace for what seems like hours, Issei breaks away and moves down to your overworked pussy.

“Issei~ not again.”

He smiles, kissing your thigh. “Relax; I won't push you.”

You sigh and lie back down, letting him do as he wishes. 

Issei grabs his cum, seeping out from your hole, and pushes it back inside. You gasp, feeling his fingers push in deeper.

"Issei, what are you doing?” You shudder.

He comes back up and pecks your lips, brushing the hair out of your face with his other hand, similarly to that beach day. “Making the best out of a creampie.”

“Ugh, Issei, you're so nasty.” You laugh, playfully hitting his chest.

Your laugh stops as you hear the bustling crowd walk back in. The sounds of the fireworks drifted into a sombre silence. Some are still bursting from far away.

“Issei, we gotta get up.” You say, eyes widening at the open door, worried someone, especially Makki, would walk in.

He sighs lazily, slowly, pulling his fingers out, and you whimper at the sensitivity.

Luckily, the two of you did not make a mess on the bed; just the sheets were tussled.

You slid to the edge of the bed, found your panties and put them on while Issei also fixed himself up. Brushing your skirt down, you wobbled on two feet and slipped on your heels.

You grabbed the forgotten jersey and slipped it on. Issei looked up and saw your new outfit.

“Fuck.” He groans.

“What? Something wrong?” You ask worriedly.

“Nah, I just—I should’ve fucked you with nothing except my jersey on.”

You tremble at his eyes that were oozing with want before proposing, “Let’s get out of here, go home, and do exactly that.”

He smiles and grabs your arm, pulling you into his side. The two of you headed downstairs. No one noticed that you were gone due to the fireworks stealing the attention.

Makki approached you a couple minutes later and said, “Those were some crazy fireworks, right?”

Issei nods. “Definitely better than last year; I had my eyes on one sweet show.”

You blushed at the hidden innuendo he was mentioning. You looked over to Iwaizumi, who smirked at the look of you in Issei’s jersey. You quickly tore your eyes away from his gaze.

“Y/N and I are gonna head out; her heads hurting, imma drop her home.” Issei lies, trying to get away from the party.

Makki looks a bit sad but realises that they are going to meet again tomorrow for practice and lunch. “Yeah, okay, see you both tomorrow. Thank you for coming, Y/N!”

“Of course, Makki, I'll see you tomorrow.” You give him a quick hug and return to Issei’s side.

Before you turn to head to the car, Issei hollers to Makki, “Sorry about the sheets being all wrinkled. I was helping Y/N pick an outfit, and I flopped all over your bed.”

Makki laughs, “What? Like you always do when you come over to game?”

Issei chuckles, and you turn away, hiding from Makki.

That night, at his apartment, no fireworks hid your loud moans as Issei fucked you in nothing but his jersey…in god knows how many positions.

~~~

(Morning, 9:00 AM, Matsukawa Issei’s Apartment)

You had awoken before Issei, brushed your teeth, took a shower, stole his clothes, and made your way to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you.

As you rolled the tamagoyaki, a yawn caught your attention. After transferring the tamagoyaki to the plate and turning the stove off, you met Issei. He had his arms folded, leaning into the wall at the threshold of the kitchen.

“Good morning, baby.” You say, walking over to him and kissing his cheek.

He hums, his voice deep and honed, “Morning dove.”

“Breakfast is ready, coffee is set, and two spoons of sugar, just how you like it.” You smile.

“I should be doing this for you.” He whispers, kissing your forehead.

“Next time,” you promise.

The two of you had breakfast in comfortable silence until a prolonged buzzing at intervals came from the bedroom. The two of you ignored it until after washing the dishes and cleaning up. 

Issei went to the room and grabbed both phones, handing yours to you. He plopped down on the couch next to you.

“Ha, it's both of us, the Seijoh group.” He laughs.

You open the Seijoh GC and scroll all the way to the top. Issei doesn't bother opening his; he looks at yours.

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

🏐Seijoh GC 🩵

Makki 🃏:

* Attached Image*

Makki 🃏:

mattsun, when you said last night, quote– “Sorry about the sheets being all wrinkled. I was helping Y/N pick an outfit and I flopped all over your bed.” – unquote. Did you mean picking an outfit, or taking an outfit off. Cuz this sure as hell ain’t mine, right @Y/N - chan?

Iwa 💙:

“wrinkle in the sheets” my ass. more like “tussle in the sheets.” 🤣

‘Kawa 👑: mattsun is rizzatron 3000

Iwa 💙: istg shittykawa shut your gen alpha filter off

‘Kawa 👑: bomboclat

Iwa 💙: this is why no one likes you

‘Kawa 👑: iwa-chan…😨

Watacchi 🛡️: oop- 🫢 

Yahaba 😇: im sorry, but is that what i think it is?

Makki🃏: y/n’s boobie holders.

Onion-head 🧅: LMFAO HELP IM DYING 💀💀

Watacchi 🛡️: why is y/n’s bra there and what do you mean by mattsun…

wait– never the fuck mind 😀

Onion-head 🧅: I CANT IM WHEEZING RN BRO WTF

Kunimi 😴: bro its 9:00 why tf yall awake?

Makki 🃏: scroll up

Kunimi 😴: oh. not what i expected. nvm this was worth waking up for shits hilarious

Ken 🐶: same here, not what i expected

Iwa 💙: omfg kyoken spoke

‘Kawa 👑 : ken chan likes me, right?

Ken 🐶 : woof

Onion-head 🧅 : THIS JUST KEEPS GETTING FUNNIER

      someone pls wake up those two

----

You slowly turn over to Issei, and his eyes are full of mirth. A couple seconds of silence are broken by loud laughter that shakes the apartment. You're clutching at your stomach, and Issei is hiding in your neck, laughing even harder.

“I accidentally forgot it there, oh my god.” You giggle.

Issei calms down from the laughter, still smiling when he opens his phone. You look at your phone, anticipating what he will type.

----

‘Sei ❤️: makki, get your hands off my girls bra

Makki 🃏 : your girl?? 

Iwa 💙 : final-fucking-ly

‘Kawa 👑 : OMG BRO ACC OHIO RIZZED HER

Iwa 💙 : oikawa

‘Kawa 👑 : calm your skibidi down

You: tooru…

‘Kawa 👑 : okok im sorry, sugar

                I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU TWO

Ken 🐶 : ^

Yahaba 😇: omfg at least type it out u inconsiderate shit

Ken 🐶 : congrats y/n and matsukawa

Watacchi 🛡️: i knew somn was going on yesterday at the party, yall are made for each other

Onion-head 🧅 : ever since that day at the beach, we've all been just waiting, congrats you two

Makki🃏: ^^ i could give two shits less about my sheets, yall became each others at my house, thats fucking adorable, love you two. (p.s i def knew this was gonna happen)

You: hajime?

Iwa 💙 : told you there was another reason for you coming, im happy for you, love you sunshine 💛

                                     You: love you too hajime, thank you everyone lol

Iwa 💙 : mattsun, you hurt her, i hurt you

‘Sei ❤️ : i would hurt myself but never hurt her, you have my word

Iwa 💙 : take care of her

‘Kawa 👑 : its like watching a dad giving his daughter's hand in marriage

Onion-head 🧅 : omfg bro is right lolol

‘Sei ❤️ : except im her daddy now

Makki 🃏 : omfg

Kunimi 😴: LMFAO BRO

Makki 🃏 : bro 💀 take that shit to the bed

Ken 🐶 : he did; took it to yours instead

Onion-head 🧅 : SINCE WHEN WERE YOU FUNNY?!?

Ken 🐶 : woof

Onion-head 🧅 : IM GONE

Watacchi 🛡️: atp i'm just existing

‘Sei ❤️ : get your asses ready for practice

Iwa 💙 : fr (i just burned my eyes from that text)

Kunimi 😴: alr imma gts for 30 more min

You: aki… istg get your ass up

Kunimi 😴: oh shit mom’s mad

You: “mom” is about to revoke your nap privileges

Kunimi 😴: im up

Makki 🃏 : i'll bring your boobie holders

You: ty makki, stop calling them boobie holders

Makki 🃏 : hehe

Iwa 💙 : alr see y'all there

You: bye guys, make sure you bring ALL your equipment or else no snacks from me

‘Kawa 👑 : yall dont need snacks, im a snack

Iwa 💙 : imma whack you

‘Kawa 👑: 🤫🧏‍♂️

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

You set your phone down and stretch your arms over your head. Issei’s head is on your lap, and you brush through his dark hair.

“Shall we get ready?” You ask.

He gets up and pulls you into his lap, kissing you deeply. “10 more minutes.”

You laugh into his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. “10 minutes only, promise?”

Issei hums, biting your bottom lip before whispering, “Promise.”

From that day, when you saw fireworks, you thought of that night. You thought of Issei and his gentle embrace, which lulled you to peace. You thought of his touch, which set you afire. 

You thought of home.

End Notes:

each emoji means something:

Makki's card = card game fan, like you Iwa's blue heart = deep friendship Oikawa's crown = great king (Dai Ōsama) Watari's shield = defense cuz he's a libero Yahaba's angel = because he is an angel and wants the best for everyone Kindaichi's onion = self-explanatory, turnip/onion head Kunimi's sleepy face = seems like a sleepy baby KyoKen's dog = self-explanatory, mad dog Mattsu's red heart = deep, passionate, true love ----

can you tell that i am also obsessed with iwaizumi, im still conviced that he is half-desi (south asian), The Tumblr Headcanon That Made It Official For Me

soooo... imma go watch aot for the umpteenth time hehe~

okay bye madarchods, love you guys 🤍🩵

[silverstarfics]

I was so determined to write something for this week’s @thunder-pride bingo square that I literally wrote this fic while having a minor allergic reaction on a plane - in other words there are definitely mistakes in this but please pretend not to notice them oops. Anyway, this is a longer fic than I'd usually post on here, so I recommend reading it on AO3 but I know some people prefer Tumblr, so here we are :))

AO3 link

Stray glitter itched under his left eye, his flag kept getting snagged on his baldric, and he could feel sweat prickling at the base of his spine despite the temperature regulator in his suit, yet Alan had never felt more comfortable in his own skin. His cheeks physically ached from so much smiling. He didn’t think he’d stopped grinning since he’d landed Tracy One on American soil two hours earlier – and no, that wasn’t just because he’d been reunited with his boyfriend. They hadn’t intended to spend practically three months apart – which had been a difficult adjustment after sharing an apartment for the past year – but the end of Alan’s semester meant he was officially back on the IR roster for the summer… just as a busy spell of rescues struck.

Technically, he was here on Official International Rescue Business: representing them at one of the world’s largest Pride parades. Usually, Gordon would have played the role, dressed up in yellow, pink and blue with an unholy amount of glittery body spray decorating not only his skin but his uniform. This year, Alan had taken up the reins. He secretly suspected his family had conspired to give him some downtime – because summer break was supposed to be restful, especially when you were an overachiever who’d decided to double major – and a chance to hang out with Brandon. He’d been instructed to have fun. Literally, Scott had texted him so.

Scotty: Have fun and enjoy your chance to be a dumb 20-year-old.

Scotty: Not too much fun though. You’re representing IR.

Alan had replied: so, on a scale from John to Gordon how much fun can I have?

Scotty: My level of fun only minus the daredevil risks.

Scotty: Just don’t get arrested, that’s all I ask.

“Coming to you from the Pride event of the year,” a loud voice declared dangerously close to Alan’s ear, jolting him out of his thoughts, “I’m here with a bi icon AKA my boyfriend-”

“Really?” he interrupted. “That’s how you’re introducing me?”

“Oh my god, fine.” Brandon hooked an arm around Alan’s neck and dragged him within view of the camera. “I’m here with International Rescue’s one and only Alan Tracy.”

“Better,” Alan accepted, trying to repress the urge to sneeze as Brandon’s flag drifted across his face. “Are you filming or livestreaming right now?”

“Filming,” Brandon assured him. “I’ll edit stuff out later, so you can relax.”

Alan flung his arms out to let his own flag billow in the light breeze. “Oh, I am so relaxed.”

Brandon, on the other hand, looked set to launch into orbit. He’d downed nearly a litre of soda since he’d met Alan at the airport and had chased it down with cotton candy and churros; he still had cinnamon dust on his face and it looked like extra freckles. The sugar rush had hit him around the same time as his adrenaline spike when music had begun to blare from speakers up-and-down the parade. He’d already had several fans come up to him for selfies and signatures which had only added to his energy levels. Even now, he was bouncing on the spot.

“Brand,” Alan tried to hiss, then raised his voice to be heard above the clamour of music and chatter and the swell of live instruments around them. “Brandon, dude, chill.”

“I am so frickin’ chill,” Brandon announced gleefully. He grabbed Alan’s hand and laced their fingers together, rising onto his toes – he hadn’t stopped complaining since Alan had hit the growth spurt that had placed him above Gordon and Virgil – to pull him into a kiss. “See? Chill.”

“Uh huh,” Alan deadpanned. “Super chill.” He frowned at the taste of sugar. “Did you find more candy? Where? And how? I swear you haven’t left my side.”

Brandon levelled the camera with a conspiratorial look. “All geniuses have their ways.”

“I’m cutting you off.” Alan reconsidered his words. “Ew, gross. You’re making me sound responsible.”

Brandon flicked his red baldric. “I feel like responsibility and IR are a joint package.”

“You’ve seen my astroboard stunts.”

“Good point.”

The parade began with an explosion of colour that reminded Alan of the infamous occasion when Gordon had accidentally upended Virgil’s palette mid-painting session. International Rescue had been assigned to the group of NGO floats, so he wasn’t expecting many people to point him out from the crowd. Maybe he’d gotten too used to his life on campus; after the initial buzz, no one cared that The Alan Tracy of International Rescue was a part of their ranks. But to his surprise, there were easily hundreds of people cheering and waving banners directed at him – or at IR or at his family: at least two signs asked for Kayo’s phone number – as the procession marched through the streets. Brandon captured everything on camera, including Alan’s shellshocked expression which prompted several internet comparisons with various memes.

“Hey, hey, Alan, look up.” Brandon cupped Alan’s face, tilting his head to glimpse the livestream of the parade on the giant screens above them. “Better smile, dude!”

“Oh my god.” Alan’s voice pitched into a humiliating squeak. He cleared his throat and fixed a grin on his face as the cameras stayed on him. “Okay, so this- this is a thing that’s happening. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

“Breathe,” Brandon teased. He raised their linked hands into the air, prompting another chorus of cheers from the crowd. “People love us! And they really love you, so quit freaking out.”

“I am not freaking out,” Alan protested, then proceeded to do exactly that as a weight crashed into his legs from his right. He staggered and caught his balance against Brandon’s shoulder.

“Woah,” Brandon mumbled, switching off the vlog. “Hey, lil dude. Where’d you come from?”

If the fact that Brandon had turned off the camera weren’t warning enough, his sudden change in pitch from overexcited delight to soft concern would have informed Alan that the new limpet clinging to him was definitely child shaped. He glanced down to glimpse a mop of tawny hair and an adoring, toothy smile. The kid had to be around eleven, certainly no older than twelve, with rainbow face-paint and a shirt emblazoned with Thunderbird Three.

“Hey,” Alan greeted, struck by the baffled urge to laugh. He knelt down to place himself at the kid’s level – honestly, his new height just kept causing problems. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Leo.” The kid – Leo, Alan mentally corrected himself – rocked on his heels as his grin grew impossibly wider. “Sorry for… you know. Running at you and jumping onto the float and stuff. But I really wanted to say hi, ‘cos you’re, like, super cool and you’re kind of my hero, so, um, yeah.”

Brandon leaned down over Alan’s shoulder to whisper teasingly, “Aw.”

Alan elbowed him. “Shut up.” He turned back to Leo. “That’s awesome, buddy! It’s great to meet you. Are you here with someone? I don’t want them to think you’ve gone missing.”

Leo gave an emphatic nod. “My mom.” He pointed in the vague direction of the crowd. “She’s out there somewhere.”

“Oh, boy,” Brandon whistled. “I know where this is going.”

Alan tousled Leo’s hair, then stood back up. “So, I’m thinking…”

“…We should search for the kid’s mom?” Brandon concluded with a fond eyeroll. “Yeah, okay.”

After a brief discussion with the other representatives on the float, Alan made his excuses, then clambered down with Leo perched on his shoulders and Brandon close behind them. The kid kept chattering, hands anchored in Alan’s hair and his heels drumming against Alan’s chest; it brought back treasured childhood memories of the times Alan had sat on Scott’s shoulders as his brother picked paths through crowds. He was aware of Brandon sneaking photos of their silhouettes to send to the family, all dressed up in sparkles and flags and IR blues.

Leo’s mom looked suitably ruffled. Her face was flushed with a mixture of humiliation and horror beneath the shimmery sheen of glitter spray. She fretted her hands in the hem of her t-shirt – pale blue with a supportive motherly caption that made both Alan and Brandon look away – as she began to utter so many apologies that they tripped over one another.

“I am so, so sorry.” She caught Leo’s eye with a warning stare. “He didn’t mean to disturb you. I only took my eyes off him for a second- Leo, have you apologised? Say sorry right this instant. I can’t apologise enough. Thank you so much for bringing him back. It’s just that you’re his hero, you see. He’s been obsessed with the Thunderbirds since he was only so high-” She gestured at her hip. “-and when you came out… Well, you’ve been a healthy role model for him. His hero, really, and- And I should stop rambling and let you get back to the parade. Leo, get down here.”

Alan crouched down to let Leo clamber from his shoulders. He wasn’t sure how to act in the face of such praise – the word hero was tossed around frequently by civilians but it was usually addressed towards elder brothers and on rescues, not a public setting – so settled for some terrible pun outta Gordon’s handbook and laughed nervously while Brandon rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.” Alan offered Leo a fist bump which the kid readily returned. “He’s been no trouble.” He feigned a serious tone. “I have an important question though: which is the best Thunderbird?”

“One,” Brandon declared and instinctively jumped outta reach before Alan could kick his shins.

Leo wrinkled his nose. “Three, duh.”

“Correct answer.” Alan patted him on the head. “I just had to check.” He grinned at Leo’s wide-eyed, starstruck expression. The kid kept looking at him as if he were a dragon, although perhaps a unicorn would be a better comparison given the rainbows painted onto his baldric. “Maybe don’t run off without telling your mom next time though, okay?” He lowered his voice to a secretive whisper. “I think you scared her. You might want to say sorry.”

Leo’s face fell. “Sorry, Mom. I wasn’t thinking…”

“Clearly,” she replied dryly. “But I think we can let it slide just this once.” She straightened up, craning her neck slightly to meet Alan’s gaze – and nope, he still wasn’t used to that one, it was so weird, how did Scott and John live like this? “It’s his first Pride.”

“Oh, heck yeah,” Brandon cut in. He held up a hand. “High five, lil dude! That’s awesome!”

Leo met his high five with a resounding smack. Alan observed their interaction, fully aware that he probably had the heart-eyes that he’d been accused of on so many occasions by nosy siblings, but hey, whatever, sue him, it was a cute sight. He tugged absently at the edges of his flag as warm affection spread outwards from his chest. Cameras clicked around him as people filmed – hey, it’s the guy from International Rescue – but somehow it didn’t bother him anymore.

“Really,” he continued, forcing himself to turn back to Leo’s mom. “Leo’s a good kid. You should be proud of him. I got super overexcited at my first Pride too. It can be kind of overwhelming.”

She gave a light laugh. “It’s all he’s talked about for the last three months.” She lowered her gaze, voice softening as she hesitated, then confessed, “He was scared to come out to me. I don’t know how I ever gave him that impression – Lord knows I kick myself every day for making my baby think I wouldn’t accept him – but when you came out… He said that if you could be brave enough to tell the world, he could be brave enough to tell his mama. So, thank you, Alan. Truly.”

And-

Wow.

Okay. That was… a lot.

“You’re so emotional,” Brandon teased, prodding Alan’s bicep. “This is why Goose says you have golden retriever energy, dude.” He skimmed his thumb over Alan’s palm, a swift, inconspicuous show of support. “We should probably get back to the parade, but it was awesome to meet you.”

“Of course.” Leo’s mom snagged her son’s shirt. “Say goodbye, Leo.”

“Bye,” Leo chirped, then threw his arms around Alan’s middle. “Thanks for… everything.”

Alan let Brandon lead him through the crowd to a café. They found a quiet corner at the very back, tucked away in a shadowy alcove beside a potted plant and an old Pacman machine. Brandon briefly vanished, then returned with a glass of water and a chocolate chip cookie. He slid both across the table to Alan, then waited expectantly, all wide eyes and furrowed brow.

“Thanks,” Alan replied after a minute. He took a sip of the water, then drained it in one as he realised how dry his mouth had become. “I don’t know why that threw me so much. Like, it was a really nice thing, so why am I…?” He held up a shaky hand. “…you know?”

“’Cos it’s a big deal,” Brandon said quietly. He bumped his sneaker against Alan’s beneath the table. “You’re allowed to be rattled by it, Al. It’s a good thing, but it’s still a lot. Like, I can still remember the first time one of my viewers told me I’d inspired them. I’m pretty sure I threw up afterwards, so you’re doing better than me. Then again, I was like fifteen, so…”

Alan split the cookie. “Want some?”

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Brandon sighed, grinning as he snatched up half. “Let’s chill here for a few minutes, then we’ll head back out, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Leo was right, you know?”

“What d’you mean?”

Brandon’s smile was the soft, secretive kind, usually reserved for places without the threat of cameras. Alan had gotten to see it almost daily since they’d moved in together when he’d started at MIT, but it still left him mildly breathless.

“You’re a good role model to a bunch of kids like him.”

Alan ducked his head. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Brandon corrected. “Now eat your cookie so we can get back out there.”

Much, much later, after they’d flown back to the island and washed off most of the glitter, Alan had chance to process everything. It made him happy but also nervous at the same time. Like, woah, he was someone’s role model? Kids considered him to be their hero? That was wild. He said as much, airing his thoughts aloud while Virgil clattered around the kitchen and Scott picked at the bowl of chopped pineapple that was intended for the evening’s pizzas.

“It’s just so weird,” Alan continued, drawing his legs up to sit cross-legged on the bar stool. He’d changed into sweatpants and a hoodie that he was pretty sure he’d stolen from John at some point after his sixteenth and had subsequently grown into. There was still glitter caked onto his cheek despite the fact that he’d attacked it with a makeup wipe. “Like, me? I still feel like a kid.”

“You’re Scott’s twenty-year-old child,” Gordon joked as he sidled through the patio doors and made a beeline for the pineapple. “He’s never gonna see you as an adult. Trust me, I’d know.”

“I’m not that bad,” Scott protested half-heartedly.

Gordon patted him on the back. “Smotherhen.”

“Irresponsible guppy.”

“And I wear that title with pride.” Gordon dropped onto the stool beside Alan. “Speaking of pride, how was it? Brandon didn’t give me any of the good gossip. I need details, Allie-gator.”

Alan frowned. “Did you torture my boyfriend? Is that why I haven’t seen him all evening?”

“Nah, that’s ‘cos Penny abducted him. They’re conspiring. We should both be scared.” Gordon tossed a cube of pineapple into his mouth and shot Virgil an innocent smile when his brother heaved a grand sigh and stared pointedly at the pizza bases. “Anyway. Pride. Details. Go.”

“A little kid said Alan was his role model, so Al’s spiralling,” Kayo summarised from her perch on the opposite counter, nursing something strongly alcoholic. “Now you’re all caught up.”

“Aw.” Gordon propped his chin in his hands. “That’s kind of adorable.”

“That’s what I said,” Virgil interjected. He prodded at the bowl of cake batter in his hands, then reached for a baking tray. “Do I leave this as vanilla or add cocoa powder?”

“Add chocolate.” Alan dropped his head onto the counter with a groan. “It’s weird though. I feel… like a fraud, I guess. I don’t have my life together. I survive on pizza pockets and Red Bull.”

Scott glanced up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Only during finals. I’m mostly a functional adult the rest of the time.”

John’s hologram blinked into life above the projector. “Before you spiral any further, you should know that the internet loves you. Footage of the parade has ended up online. You’ve not just inspired one kid, but a lot of people.”

Alan tossed his hands up. “How is that supposed to make me feel any better? That’s so much more pressure.” He slumped onto the counter. “I just… You guys were my role models, right? And you did a pretty good job-”

“Thanks,” Gordon said, just as Kayo added, “Everyone apart from Gordon did a good job.”

“-so, I’m really happy to be inspiring people but also I don’t want to mess up.”

A contemplative silence settled over the kitchen.

“You’re not going to mess up,” Scott said after a moment. He slid the pineapple out of Gordon’s reach, then moved to stand beside Alan’s seat. “Hey, look at me for a second?” He placed his hands on Alan’s shoulders and offered him a reassuring smile. “All you need to do is keep being yourself. Try your best, stand up for your beliefs, and you’ll do just fine, Allie. Besides…” He tousled Alan’s hair. “You’ve been our hero for just as long as we’ve been yours.”

“Gordon’s not included in that,” Kayo called. Gordon made a crude gesture in her direction. She flung an arm at him. “See? He’s just not role model material.”

Scott ignored them. “You’re doing great, Al. I’m proud of you.”

Alan swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat, then asked, “Can I make a Pride joke?”

Scott sank onto a bar stool beside him and dropped his head onto the counter. “Wake me up when the pizza or the cake is ready, I can’t cope with the terrible puns that are about to happen.”

“Oh, but Scotty,” Alan began.

Gordon let out a wild laugh. “This is gonna be so much fun.”

[toxins-very-gay-thoughts]

How do you think is the social media presence of toh characters? I just feel that luz spends too many hours on youtube lol (I would like veterans too!)

Oh Luz has an online presence. She watched youtube for hours upon hours just of funny cat videos when she was little. She taught King how to navigate social media. She has a penstagram that is dedicated to talking about Azura, lore, and her fanfiction. She is a popular ao3 writer and interacts with her fans.

Amity has a large following from school and her previous status. She probably thinks way too long about what she is going to post. She likes to post pictures of Ghost and her gf. When she was younger, she probably researched study methods online.

King literally watches anything and everything. A meme connoisseur.

Willow posts plants, flyer derby matches, and projects! I think she'd have a decently sized following. She would watch different types of game plays.

Gus makes videos on his interests. There are not a lot of views but he is very enthusiastic about it.

Hunter has no idea how the internet works but he is trying. He probably watched memes for eight hours the first time he figured out how videos work. After that he probably used it reasonably.

I could definitely see Eda having thirst traps. She knows she is hot. And she isn't afraid to show it. She also flirts with Raine in the comments of every post they make.

Raine posts about their music and sometimes dates with Eda. They have a large following and fans.

Actually, I made penstagrams for each of the characters! You can find them in my tag: toxins tumblr edits

[bottomlouisficfest]

We hope you’ve enjoyed the fics from weeks 9-10 of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2023! Every two weeks, we’re compiling all of the fics from that period into one roundup post so they’re easy to find for anyone looking to catch up on fics they missed. Enjoy these amazing fics and give them the love they deserve!

part time soulmates (full time problem)

A fic by localopa on AO3 | @voulezloux on Tumblr

12k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

sworn enemies harry and louis are soulmates. everything is going smoothly until the pain hits.

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Spaces Between Us, Hold All Our Secrets

A fic by Whoopsiedaisiesss on AO3 | @shining-louist on Tumblr

6k | Not Rated | Tumblr post | Twitter post

The thing about Harry is, is that he is the most wonderful guy you´ll ever meet. He is kind, compliments you on things you are usually insecure about, which shows he truly pays attention to who you are as a person. And he befriends everyone. Except Louis. --- Or the one where Louis suffers from anxiety. His rivals with Harry makes this even worse. Until one day he accidentally calls Harry during one of his panic attacks. Harry just wants Louis to feel better. He always does.

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Bend the Rules

A fic by youreyesonlarry on AO3 | @youreyesonlarry on Tumblr | @youreyesonlarry on Twitter

17k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 588: Lous hires a ‘ghost cooking’ service because his family is worried he’s not eating well and he wants to impress them by showing them what an amazing cook he’s become. The service includes sending a discreet cook to your house and have them get everything ready so that you only serve and take the credit. Problem is, his sisters (can be OCs if that’s more comfortable) get to his flat earlier than planned and the actual cook has to hide in the master bathroom for hours. Louis is mortified. The cook is amused and helps him to clean and well. Gives him a thorough service. Feel free to pick your fave as the cook.

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The Writing on the Wall

A fic by stylinsonwritingpalace on AO3 | @stylinsonwritingpalace on Tumblr

7k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

When BookToker Louis receives a gift basket filled with all his favorite sweets, wines, and stuffed animals alongside the new Harry Styles book, he's shocked at the story he finds in the pages. ----- For BLFF Prompt 85: Louis is a literature teacher who spends his free time either making videos on Instagram or TikTok (author’s choice) talking about his favorite books. His audience knows how obsessed he is with a specific author, from his poems to his novels, he reads and gushes about every single one of his works because he always feels as if they were written to him. That was why when he receives a special PR package with his favorite sweets, wine, and the author’s brand new book, it only took him hours to finish the whole thing. Only this time, to his shock, the story on the pages of the book were too familiar to him. It was the story of how Louis broke his ex’s heart.

--

Define me again

A fic by Hazzascul_07 on AO3 | @hazzascul on Tumblr

54k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

He's never felt so frightened in his life before, so fucking terrified for himself. And Louis. He looked down at their hands, which seemed to have been connected throughout the incident. He looked at the ring on Louis' hand, for the nth time that day. His heart hurt so bad now, he was terrified. He wanted to do so many things, he wanted to check on louis, if he- if he- God he couldn't even think about it. "Louis," he tried to whisper, but nothing but air came out from his mouth. "I love you, Harry," whispered a voice. But it was nowhere near him. Visions attacked his mind, rapidly flickering through like one would do the pages of a book. He was terrified. His entire life literally flashed in his mind, vision growing more and more weak and he fought unconsciousness. Memories and the picture of Louis lying unconscious in front of him altered and flickered, so rapidly that he felt dizzy with how fast his mind was whirring. What happens when you die? God he was so, so, so, fucking terrified. All his senses gave out, last thing he felt was Louis' hand in his and then, everything went black.

--

in deep devotion

A fic by ifthat on AO3 | @lovehl on Tumblr | @omegalouis on Twitter

11k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

With no signs of presenting at the age of sixteen, no official designation by age eighteen, Harry was no match for the line of Alpha suitors Louis attracted with his sweet, gravitating disposition and breathtaking beauty. His presence commanded attention. His movements were graceful, his skin tinged by the sun, his smile infectious, and his eyes the color of the sea.

--

You Were Always Mine

A fic by GoldenSunflouervol6 on AO3 | @sunflouervol6 on Twitter

6k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 45: A/B/O fic where Louis and Harry have a lot of mutual friends but they don’t get along (mostly Louis doesn’t like Harry). One day, Louis turns up on Harry’s doorstep covered in blood and asking for help. (Inspiration: Prompt #126 from the BLFF 2021).

--

give my heart a holiday

A fic by Ashisinlove on AO3 | @ashisinlove28 on Twitter

14k | Not Rated | Tumblr post | Twitter post

AU where Louis and someone else both like Harry but Harry obviously likes Louis and is oblivious to the other person with scenes like Harry’s sitting with his legs on the coffee table and the other person wants to walk across and Harry doesn’t see them, so they have to say excuse me, but when Louis wants to cross he doesn’t even have to say anything because Harry sits up, puts his feet down, and gives his undivided attention to Louis.

--

always tell the truth

A fic by anditsonlyforthebrave on AO3 | @HARRYSC1NEMA on Twitter

5k | Not Rated | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry is Louis' dentist and getting a wisdom tooth removed shouldn't be the end of the world.

--

Wait For Me

A fic by cherrygelb on AO3 | @cherrygelb on Twitter

17k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Moving to a new place always comes with a few challenges. For Harry, it’s trying to start over after his divorce, while still doing his best taking care of his son. Though just like every parent, he is not infallible, so some mistakes are bound to be made, settling into his new role as a single-dad. For his son, Davie, moving means he has to get used to all the changes happening in his life through no fault of his own. Discovering a secret passageway on their new property lets him form an unlikely friendship with the young man and his dog he finds on the other side. BLFF 2023, Prompt 391: Harry’s son gets very attached to Louis! Maybe they just randomly meet at first (possibly neighbors?) and then the kid just keeps running back to Louis without telling his dad.

--

Remember to give these fics kudos and comments, and spread their fic posts!

--

All roundups will be linked here:

Weeks 1-2 Roundup

Weeks 3-4 Roundup

Weeks 5-6 Roundup

Weeks 7-8 Roundup

Weeks 9-10 Roundup

Week 11 Roundup

[andheresthething]

I Got So Fucking Romantic, I Apologize

Summary: Cute lazy morning (afternoon) with Nightowl.

[No use of y/n] [Lazy Mornings] [But it's really 2 pm] [Cuddling & Snuggling] [Kissing] [Love Bites] [Pet Names] [Dorks in Love] [I cannot stress it enough you act like teenagers in love] [Implied Sexual Content] [You're smaller than him] [Established Relationship]

•·················•·················•

Notes:

I recently played Blooming Panic and absolutely fell HARD for Nightowl. This is the first time I've ever posted any of my writing and it's been a while since I've written at all so this will probably be rusty. I might write more (could make a spicy follow-up) if people like this one, though it might be delayed because carpal tunnel is a bitch.

Gender-neutral reader for yall :)

I wrote this while listening to my character playlist for him

Reposted from AO3

Also, I haven't used Tumblr since MIDDLE SCHOOL so I apologize for things being strange to the platform

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩⇩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

Rays of light shone through the drawn blinds of the bedroom you and Nightowl shared. The small beams laid across the two of you sleeping well into early afternoon. You slowly blink and let out a yawn, taking a moment to come into the conscious world.

Once your eyes adjusted you finally get a look at the blonde sleeping on his side next to you. His chest slowly rising and falling and an arm draped over you. Lips slightly apart, just enough to show a sliver of his front teeth, and his neck and collar bones covered in spots that ranged in shades of purple. Though a familiar sight for you to see each day, it never grew old. Each day, without fail, your heart would flutter the same way it did when you spent your first night together. You cracked a smile, just watching and waiting for your partner to wake.

Sometimes it was still baffling to you that clicking on a discord invite led to this. How fast everything moved between the two of you was unexpected, but not unwelcomed in the slightest. You recall all the nights the two of you would spend up, talking about anything and everything until you fell asleep. Nightowl would follow shortly after, but would never hang up the call. Some of the time right before he’d turn in as well, you were just conscious to hear him say, ‘I can’t wait until we can do this in person. Goodnight, Cutie. Sweet dreams.’

Your smile grew thinking about those early times of your relationship, though soon enough you were broken from the little daydream with the feeling of Nightowl lifting his arm off of you, stretching himself awake with a yawn.

“Mornin, sweetheart,” you said as he lowered his arm back to hold you. He sleepily smiled, then placed a light kiss on your forehead.

“Good morning, cutie,” he smiled, “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Impossible, plus I lost myself in thought, so I doubt I would have noticed an hour going by.”

“Care to indulge me?” Nightowl asked while moving his hand to hold yours.

“I was just thinking about our old late-night calls before I got to move in with you and how sometimes when I was half asleep I’d hear you say how you couldn’t wait for this to happen for real and wished me goodnight”

Nightowl squeezed your hand, eyes lighting up slightly. Your little story seemed to help wake him up from his groggy state, “Awe, I love you getting all sappy and nostalgic on me first thing in the morning, cutie.”

 “I always felt all stupid and happy whenever I heard it.” 

“You know,” he scootched as close as he could be to you without being completely on top of you, “I did it every. Single. Night.” he hummed, peppering a kiss on your face between every word, and you giggled with each one.

“Really?”

He put on a serious face, sharply nodding, “Without fail. I still do actually. Granted, I’ve changed that first part a tiny bit considering you’re now actually here with me, in the flesh.”

“Awe, sweetheart, you’re literally the best. How’d I get so lucky?” you reached to hug him. Maybe a bit too enthusiastically, though, as you managed to push Nightowl over on his back and put yourself on top of him, burying your face in his neck in the process, “Seriously, I could have never imagined having someone who does stuff like that for me all to myself.”

“ You can’t believe you have me all to yourself?” Nightowl laughed, “I should be the one saying that. I was such a hungover ass to you after knowing you for, like, five days, and you still wanted to be with me after that night. You’re the one here that's the best,” he refuted, placing a kiss on the side of your head, “To have someone as precious as you makes me the lucky one here, darling.”

“Mmm, I’d have to disagree with you.”

  “Incorrect and unfactual statement.”

You lifted yourself enough to meet your eyes with his, “As much as I’d love to continue this to prove I’m, in fact, correct on this matter, I think I’m a little too tired to try.”

“So what you're saying is that I win?” he said with the biggest shit-eating grin. You groaned at his playful antic and started to push yourself up, now straddling his lap as he still laid underneath you, which also effectively pushed the blanket once covering the two of you off and behind you. 

“Sure, you win, dumbass. What shall your prize be?”

“Can it be anything?” he said excitedly.

You knew you might regret the answer you were going to give, but went through with it anyway, “Sure, anything you want, sweetheart,” with that, you sealed your fate.

“Hmm, what a tough decision to make,” Nightowl exaggeratedly pondered while pushing himself back slightly to be able to sit up with his arms supporting him from behind. You also moved so that you were sitting in his lap, legs wrapped around his bare lower waist, and brought your arms around his neck. Your arms sat on the soft fabric that was the straps of his crop top, “The possibilities are endless, cutie. How could I ever just choose one thing?”

You giggled at his complaint, “You better, the offer is going to expire soon. Then you just get bragging rights.”

“Oh, how cruel! How could you?” he moved his arms from behind him to hold your hips.

“I know, I’m such a horrible person,” you said, matching his sarcastic and playful tone.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, you took the time to admire his face. The small beams of light highlighted his softer features. They made his messy hair shine and his brown eyes sparkle, revealing all the little flakes of different shades that resided in them.

The light also reflected off of his cartilage piercings. Nightowl had a bad habit of not taking out his earrings before bed. No matter how many times you reminded him, he always forgot. It wasn’t the end of the world that he didn’t, though. At least he remembered to take out his statement piece each night.

In that time, Nightowl did the same, soaking in the sight of you. Hair just as messy as his own, a stupid wide smile, and a pair of beaming eyes staring into his own. But your shirt, God it was killing him. It was one of his own that you’d steal regularly to wear almost anywhere. While purposefully somewhat oversized on him, you were swimming in it, allowing your neck and collar bones, covered in marks (courtesy of him), to be exposed. Maybe it was his somewhat possessive nature, but the mix of the shirt and hickies fogged his mind with a myriad of thoughts ranging from wholesome to extremely sexual.

“Have you made a decision yet?” your words snapped him out of his short, albeit very vivid, daydream, “Or are we just going to settle for bragging rights?”

“Nope! I’ve come up with my prize.”

“That would be?”

“One super lazy, stay-in-date day complete with stupid horror movies and possibly some more… intimate affairs later on,” he paused, “Please.”

You pretended to think it over, despite the arrangement of this prize. While you, of course, got tasked with a pile of work for the weekend, you couldn’t care less about it. Getting ripped by your boss on Monday would be worth it, especially with the not-at-all-subtle proposition for later in the day. Knowing Nightowl though, it would probably come way sooner than nightfall. “You, sir, have yourself a deal.”

You gave him a small peck, but Nightowl being Nightowl, was having none of that. He immediately put his lips back on yours, tightening his grip on your hips. While it took you slightly by surprise, you gladly accepted the act, kissing him back. Quickly things became heated, pulling each other closer, the movement of your lips becoming desperate. Your hands drifted to his hair, lightly grabbing at it, which Nightowl responded to by letting out a small moan into your mouth. That noise of his set you off, eager to continue the sudden act of intimacy. 

Unfortunately, as quickly as it picked up, it stopped. Nightowl pulled away and loosened his hold on you, causing you to let out a small whine of disappointment.

“As much as I don’t want to stop this right now, cutie, I’m starving for some actual food, not just you.” 

You let out a chuckle, arms going back down to rest on his shoulders, “You’re such a tease.”

“Says the one wearing nothing but my shirt,” he flirted, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face once again. “Looks great on you, by the way. Makes your ass and thighs look fantastic. Especially your thighs.”

“I do, in fact, have something on under, mister,” you retorted, “But if you’re that hungry, I guess we could go scrounge up something, but by we, I mean me. We both know you can't cook for shit.”

“Ouch, that one stung.”

“It’s not that bad if I like cooking and you like eating it. Plus, you get to stare at my thighs all you want while I do so.”

“A win is a win,” he lifted one hand off your hips to cup your cheek. “Shall we then?”

“To the kitchen!” you giggled. 

Nightowl gave you one last kiss on your forehead before putting his hand down, allowing you to get up off of him and the bed. He followed suit, loosely holding your hand. With that, you led the way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to start your long date day at 2 pm.

[softpascalito]

javier peña x f!dea!reader - we got your back - chapter 3

Summary: You work as a new DEA agent alongside Peña and Murphy. A not-so-kind colleague reveals more about you than you would like. You also realize you can sleep better if you're not by yourself. You're not the only one with that realization.

Relationships: Javier Peña x FemReader

WC: 6700+

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow burn, mention of canon-typical violence, no beta we die like Colonel Carrillo, family Issues, they arent specified but reader is implied to be from a dysfunctional family, Steve is here too, literal sleeping together, one bed trope if you squint, tac vest javi

AO3 LINK // Chapter 1 (Tumblr) // Chapter 2 (Tumblr)

Notes:

helllooo! the new chapter is finally here. if youre enjoying this fic, please let me know, i cry happy tears about every comment <3

_______________________________

Chapter 3

The alarm doesn't wake you. Not fully. What does wake you is the body next to you contorting and almost falling off the couch as he tries to turn said alarm off, muttering curses under his breath. You blink a few times, opening your eyes just as the beeping finally comes to a halt and find Javis' face right in front of yours. He looks at you, the apology already visible on his face:”Sorry-”

You sit up slightly, mumbling:” ¿Que hora es?” 

“Just past six,” Javier answers. His voice is still rough from sleep. Your tired brain doesn't quite realize how intimate this is, the two of you waking up together. Seeing him with his hair still messy, before he had breakfast or even coffee. Before he has talked to anyone.

It's still dark outside, except for a gentle purple at the very horizon, announcing the break of dawn.

Unlike yourself, Javi seems like he's immediately wide awake. You try not to think too hard about why that may be. 

He's been in Colombia for years.

“Not a morning person?” Javier asks as he gets up and starts shoving the blanket back into whichever drawer he'd taken it from last night. It's still a little too dark to see properly but you can make out his movements, even in the dim light.

It's your turn to get up, already looking around for the only thing that you care about in your current state.

“Not unless we have coffee somewhere in this godforsaken office.” You mutter under your breath, already halfway through the door to find the small kitchen you'd been in the day before. Just as you finish pouring two cups, Javi joins you again. His hair is still messy but it's not as noticeable anymore and he seems to have freshened up in the bathroom. You allow yourself a slightly longer study of his face as you hand him his mug. Balancing it in one hand, he repeats the motion of the other day, reaching for the milk carton to pour some into the mug you're holding. He pours until you ask him to stop. He doesn't even tease you about it.

The light of the fridge illuminates his sharp features as he puts it back and you can't help but stare. For once, he doesn't notice, instead focused on finding a way to squeeze the carton of milk in between two bottles of juice. Just in time, you manage to draw your gaze off him and turn around to stand at the small window looking out over the embassy parking lot.

Javi takes a small sip of his coffee as he crosses the room in two large strides, stopping just behind you, close enough for you to feel his warmth.

A comfortable silence settles over the pair of you. You're not sure how long he stands behind you like that, both glancing out onto the dimly lit pavement that will be bustling with people in an hour. It's almost too calm like this and leaves you with an eerie feeling. Like something's not quite where it's supposed to be.

He's the one to break the spell.

“You want me to get some breakfast?” It's a good offer and you open your mouth to accept- when you suddenly snap it shut again. Breakfast sounds lovely. But spending a few more sole minutes with Javi sounds even better, in your opinion.

So you shake your head no. To not make it too obvious, you add:” I usually just go for some cereal.” Javi raises his brow, turning his head slightly towards you:” Didn't strike me as a cereal kind of gal.” You snort:” If I didn't know any better, I'd almost say that sounds like a compliment, Peña.”

He can't hide the small smirk that appears on his face as you go on:” It sucks though. Colombia doesnt know how to make proper cereal. They all taste the fucking same. I would die for some Cap'n Crunch.”

“Sounds like someones a little homesick.” Your face falls slightly. He's right in a way. There are things that you miss, days where you wish you'd never come to Bogotá. But there are also the things you've left behind. Or, tried to.

Javi seems to pick on up on the small mood shift, his face a little apologetic as he steps back, mumbling a small apology, without really knowing what he's apologizing for.

You get ready in silence and you try- you really try- not to take too much notice of his morning routine. A sip of coffee, impatiently shoving his belt through the loops in his pants, the small noise of annoyance when it gets caught on something. Tugging his shirt in, raising the collar to adjust his tie, downing the rest of his coffee in one go before turning his attention back to the tie.

You notice he hasn't undone it for the night, just slid the knot down far enough to take it off. After spending the night draped over some office cabinet, it looks rather messy.

There's a short moment of hesitation before you break the silence in the room:” You don't know how to tie a tie.” It's not a question but Javi pretends it is.

“I know perfectly well how to tie it,” he protests.

“Okay. Redo it then.” You say, half expecting him to ignore your request. He doesn't. With a small sigh that he somehow makes sound both annoyed and endearing, he slips the knot open and attempts to redo it. After a few moments of struggling with it under your watchful gaze, he manages to form some sort of knot that miraculously looks even worse than before.

You finally take pity and move towards him, reaching for the piece of clothing that's giving him such a struggle. His hand automatically reaches to stop you, but you gently bat it away:” Let me.” He does.

He looks down at you then, with a similar gaze to the one you had when you watched him get ready. And just like him before, you don't notice him watching, too focused on the task at hand. His gaze lingers on your slightly scrunched-up face, the way your tongue pokes out ever so slightly as you concentrate. 

He's not sure why but he tries to memorize the beauty in it. It's not the beauty he usually sees in women- even though he can't deny your attractiveness. It is like the beauty of traffic lights reflected on wet pavement after a sudden rainfall, the one that you notice while you're stuck at a red light.

One that doesn't last, not even until the streets have dried. Only until the light turns green. Fleeting moment.

You pat his chest lightly once you're done, stepping back to approve your own work:” That's better.” He wants to agree. Say something to go back to the moment he'd just been in. He doesn't. Instead he hears himself say:” Let's get started on the rest of those files.”

You're already on your second evidence carton by the time Steve arrives. He gives both Javi and you a quick nod before he sits down at his desk and starts going through the messages that have been left for him. As he puts the last one down, he stifles a yawn:” God, I feel like shit.” 

He turns his head into your direction:” How do you manage to look so well rested this fucking early?” 

You almost spit out the coffee you had been drinking, choking on it slightly as your face turns a bright shade of red. You automatically glance towards Javi- only to find that the asshole is chuckling to himself. 

Wiping the coffee off your lips, you shoot him a silent glance and he seems to take pity because a moment later he's diverted Steve's attention onto himself:” Probably because she is smart enough to not have a baby at home that cries every time it poops.” 

“It's what infants do, Javi.” Steve defends his baby softly but it's clear that he is exhausted from his new parenting duties. 

The two start bickering and you find yourself finally able to relax again, once more burying your nose in the files.

A few hours later, while you're eating lunch with Steve, he is still going on about the little one. Being a parent is exhausting but the truth is that with him and Connie being pretty much the only embassy personnel with a child, they never have trouble finding a loving colleague who will happily jump on the opportunity of babysitting for a night.

“...we just don't want her to be too spoiled. Of course people got her christmas presents- it being her first and all- but when Javi was over-” You raise your head so fast that Steve breaks off and stares at you. 

You quickly try and swallow your food before the question slips off your tongue:” Javi was babysitting?” Steve chuckles a little at that:” Oh trust me, I was worried too. But she likes him. Probably because of his mustache. She loves to pull on it. He'll make a different face every time she does and..” He trails off, shaking his head:” Sorry, that's not exactly interesting.”

“Right.” You say as you bow your head again a little. Steve doesn't seem to notice that you barely listen to anything else he tells you during the remainder of your shared lunchtime.

When you had left to go to the cafeteria, Javi had stayed behind, mumbling something about wanting to check a file downstairs. It wasn't a lie technically, he tells himself as he reaches the file storage room he's looking for. He glances up and down the corridor and then quickly slips inside, not turning on the light to avoid drawing attention to himself.

“It's gotta be here..” He mutters to himself as he skips through some files in the dim cone of light that his flashlight provides. Finally, he finds the one he's been looking for. But as soon as he pulls it out, he notices how light it is. And when he looks inside, his suspicions are confirmed: The file is empty. There is a small note inside of it, which generally means average clearance isn't enough to access it. The files are sealed. As his brain is still trying to come up with a solution, he hears footsteps coming down the hallway.

Javi curses under his breath and more or less slams the file shut, shoving it back into the cabinet as he turns off his light and presses himself against a wall. Slowly, the footsteps fade away. He gives it another few seconds for good measure before he slips out of the door, his head turned into the direction the footsteps had disappeared into. There is no one to be seen and he breathes a small sigh of relief.

He closes the door behind himself and turns around- to find his partner leaning against the wall, an eyebrow raised expectantly. Javier's eyes widen for a moment before they narrow:” Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Murphy?”

The blonde man gives a small chuckle but shakes his head:” I have as much right to be down here as you do. However-” He points towards the door Javier had just slipped out of:” I do seem to remember some rule about having to request file access to these.”

Javi realizes he's watching him, calculating. When he doesn't reply, Steve pushes himself off the wall, stepping closer as his tone shifts:” What were you looking for, Peña?”

The other man raises his hands in defeat, letting out a small breath before he pinches his nose slightly:” If I tell you, will you help me?” He asks in a low voice. By the way Steve looks, Javi knows the other man is intrigued:” Maybe. If I consider it worth looking into.” 

There is a small pause during which Steve turns, making sure they are still alone:” This about Escobar?”

“Actually, it's not.” Javi says quietly. 

Steve raises a brow. Definitely intrigued now:” Then what? You lost the address of your favorite hooker or something?”

Javi makes a face, deciding to not give in to their bickering for once.

“It's about Y/N.” He mumbles after a moment:” The files Vázquez mentioned, the ones that have info on-”

”Oh, you can't be serious.” Steve groans, leaning against the concrete wall again.

“What?” Javi asks, maybe a little too defensive to be completely unsuspectful:'' They are sealed, Steve. Why would they be sealed?”

The other man takes a deep breath, studying Javis face:” It's not our job. Or our concern. If she doesn't tell you-”

”Vázquez knew. And I'm sure she didn't talk to her.” Steve seems to lose his patience at that.

“Javi, has your dumbass ever considered that the files are sealed because she wants them to be?”

That shuts him up real quick.

They both stay quiet, Javi fumbling with the pack of Malboros in his pocket that always seems to get roughed up, no matter how quickly he goes through it.

Steve is still watching him. He sighs: “Look, Javi, we have an actual job to do here. I'm sure she's fine. Let's get back to the files, yeah? Worry about what really matters.”

“Sure.”

Javi follows him down the corridor and back up the stairs. When they pass the small back door that leads to the parking lot, he gestures over to it:” I'll be right up. Just wanna grab a smoke.” If Steve notices his behavior, he doesn't say anything, only calling back to him as he's already climbing the next set of stairs:” Don't take too long.”

Javi steps outside, into the gentle breeze. He leans against the concrete wall, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The noises of the city have returned and past the iron gates he can see people bustling on the way to their appointments, to their lunch dates, to whatever it is they do. 

He allows his mind to wander back to the early morning hours, how different everything looked then. It had felt like something had been out of place, missing. He had assumed it was the people. But now he isn't so sure. He can't shake that feeling. That lingering feeling of waiting at a traffic light. Of something passing by too quickly.

Something isn't right. It isn't his job to find out what.

He doesnt care and he can't shake that feeling and he already knows that he'll make it his job anyway.

[infiniteeight8]

man I’m gonna need you to continue the nothing of significance Drabble 😭😭

I feel I should apologize for how long it took me to get here given that I practically invited this request. *sheepish* I do drabble requests in order by default, just so I don’t have to think about them as much, and there were a few already in the queue at the time.

This is part four. Find parts one through three at these links:

Parts One and Two at AO3

Part Three on Tumblr (it’ll post to AO3 when I get caught up there)

-

Stephen sleeps a lot for the first week. When he wakes, Tony is nearly always at his side. His bedroom sprouts a new side table, and it’s quickly covered with tablets, phones, and gadgets that Stephen hesitates to identify when Tony Stark is involved. He tries to tell Tony that there’s no obligation, that he can go, but all Tony says is, “I’m not here out of obligation. I’m here because you don’t make sense. I’ll figure you out, you’ll see.”

Stephen doesn’t argue. He likes waking up and seeing Tony sprawled in the armchair he’s commandeered, tapping intently at one device or another. He’s going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Once he’s no longer sleeping twenty hours a day, Wong explains, privately, what he needs to do to help his soul heal. 

At this point, Tony’s commitments have drawn him away from constant watch at Stephen’s bedside, but he’s still a daily visitor. The table full of gadgets remains. Today, Stephen must look as lost as he feels, because when Tony strides into the room—he doesn’t ever knock—he stops immediately and frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Stephen says automatically. Tony just waits. “Healing my soul is going to be more… metaphysical than I thought.”

Tony’s eyebrows fly up. “Isn’t everything you wizards do metaphysical?”

“Maybe I should have said not metaphysical enough,” Stephen says wryly. “I thought there would be spells involved. Exercises. I don’t know, vision quests. Instead, apparently, I need to… do things that make me feel good?”

Tony looks as bewildered as Stephen feels. “Like what?”

Stephen groans. “Watch the sunset. Spend time with friends. Eat good food. I am literally quoting examples.”

Tony slowly sits on the edge of the bed. “And that’s difficult?”

Stephen drops his gaze and doesn’t answer.

“Well!” Tony says after a moment, and Stephen looks up to see him grinning. “You’re going to be glad I stuck around. You basically have a prescription for hedonism, and I am an expert.”

Stephen has to laugh. This is either going to go very, very well, or very, very badly.

[olderthannetfic]

I feel like fandom activism has caused so, so many brains to rot.

How in the world is writing more fics featuring non-white characters going to show anything to the people behind End OTW Racism? And why in the world should I have an obligation to write it?

I write fics because I enjoy writing and immediately sharing with an audience, because I like characters someone else came up with, because constructing a little space for my creativity in fics gives me far less stress than thinking about creating original novels. It's not my job, and it's certainly not activism.

This idea that people should at least write one or two fics about characters of color because it shows they're not racist or because, somewhat, this stuff fights fandom racism, is absolutely unhinged.

I was in a fandom with a main character of color, and I had to leave because people were constantly at each other's throats and harassing one another because writing this character in any way would get you called a racist. He bottoms? Racist. He tops? Racist. He's described with his hair cut this way? Racist. He's vegetarian? Racist. He's not vegetarian? Racist. Literally you couldn't fucking win because the fandom split in two major groups at its beginning, and since then, if you write him in a certain way, you'll have one side accuse you of being racist, and if you write him this other way, it's gonna be the other side who accuses you! I got rape threats over this shit!

This is insanity! I work a shitload of hours a week and come to fandom to relax, reblog stupid posts, retweet porn drawings, listen to the worst Spotify playlists known to mankind, and share the fics I spend too much time working on.

Why the fuck should I treat fandom like it's a cause I should give my life to? I don't want to eat my vegetables because the vegetable you're presenting me with is unseasoned iceberg lettuce: it doesn't interest me, it doesn't have a flavor I'm seeking, and it holds no nutritional value whatsoever.

Stop pretending that things can be changed by writing more fics about that Star Wars character or that set of Marvel movies, because you know damn well they won't: you'll just get harassed more, and when you'll delete/orphan all your fics because just the idea of logging into Ao3 will make you want to anxiety puke, the people who supported all these movements will go to their Tumblrs and Twitters and whatever other socials the hip kids use and write shit like "Thank god that horrible racist left! People like them should never dare to write fics about POC ever again! Whoever harassed them out of the fandom did the right thing."

--

[naminethewriter]

Monstrously Simple Days at College

Chapter Four: An Unusual Trade

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3

Story Summary: Humans and Monsters live together in harmony and that means they all get to go to college together. Roman, Remus, Janus, Virgil, Logan and Patton are big group of friends that may be a bit chaotic with all the different monster cultures they hail from. College itself is hard too, but with them all supporting each other, it can’t be that bad, can it?

Content Warnings: None

~~*~~

A loud and insistent knocking breaks through the calm classical piano music playing in Virgil and Logan’s dorm. Beethoven, Bach and Mozart are common composers the two listen to, since Logan found it the best background music for him to study to and Virgil associates them with their childhood as Beethoven and them share a birthyear. Their mother, who had already been a big fan of Bach, kept up with Mozart and Beethoven for their entire careers and often played their music on the piano. Virgil can always feel the tension in their body leave them when he hears one of their pieces played.

Now that tension was returning however as the knocking doesn’t stop.

“Would you mind getting it, V?” Logan asks, hunched over their desk. “I am almost finished with this text and would hate to lose my place.”

“Yeah, I got it, L. Might just punch whoever it is in the face.” They mutter that last part under their breath as they swing their legs off the bed and head towards the door. “Who the hell—”

“I’m here for a trade, guardian of night!” Remus interrupts them as soon as the door is open.

Virgil just stares at her, then at her brother who is just behind them.

“What?”

“A trade!” Remus proclaims again, louder this time. “The witch for this inferior dragon!”

“Inferior!” Roman sputters, wings flaring out behind him in offense. “How dare you besmirch my honor, you filthy—”

“Would you both shut up before you make this entire corridor hate us!” Virgil hisses, massaging their temples. “What you’re saying is that you want to spend time with Logan and to do that you’re kicking Roman out of your dorm and pushing him on to me?”

Roman pouts at them and Virgil just slyly smiles back which earns them an eyeroll from their partner.

“Got it in one, Scaramore! Now where’s my witch?”

Remus pushes past Virgil, and only then do they notice that it is literally dragging Roman along by gripping his wrist, though Roman doesn’t seem to give him much resistance. At least until they’re in the room and Remus bounds over to Logan. That’s when Roman shakes his arm free and Remus lets him go without even looking at him, instead standing behind Logan’s chair and gently resting its head on theirs, silently waiting for them to stop reading.

“Sorry for just barging in,” Roman sighs after Virgil closed the door and comes to stand next to him. “Remus was just getting super antsy because Logan wasn’t answering her texts, so I told them to just go and check on him in person and then it came up with this whole trading idea. And I would love to just hang out with you, no fancy dates, just chilling but if you’d rather be alone, I can suffer third wheeling them.”

He nods over to the desk where Logan has allowed Remus to place her hand over theirs while they finish up.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Virgil shrugs. “I wasn’t really doing anything anyway. And I wouldn’t leave you to suffer those two being their weird interpretation of sappy.” Roman snorts, lightly bumping against their shoulder before sitting down on their bed, sighing contently and shaking out his wings. Virgil lets themselves plop down next to him, pulling their phone over to close Tumblr. They’ve already been scrolling through their dash for at least an hour. It was good to have a distraction.

Their phone screen just went black when a thump from the desk announces that Logan is done reading. He and Remus talk quietly between themselves for a moment and while Virgil has good enough hearing that he could’ve listened in if they wanted to, they don’t. Then Logan stands, smiling over to them and Roman.

“I will be over with Remus in her room then,” they nod to Virgil. “If you need anything, you can text me.”

“Nothing’s gonna come up, L,” Virgil shrugs and Logan adjusts his glasses.

“You never know. Anyway, since I have classes early tomorrow, I will return before 10pm.” They give a sharp look to Remus, who pouts at them but doesn’t protest. “Have a nice evening, you two.”

“You, too, Pocket Protector!” Roman salutes as his brother impatiently pulls Logan out of the room. The door clicks shut behind them and Roman lets himself collapse on the bed with a sigh. “I love it, they’re my brother, but she can be so much sometimes.”

“Maybe look at a mirror,” Virgil laughs. “You’re both so similar and so different, it’s insane.”

“Shut up,” Roman whines, weakly throwing his arm in Virgil’s direction. “I know that already. I just wanna chill and watch a movie or something. I’m beat.”

“Fine, fine,” Virgil huffs fondly. They all had a long week behind them. They still needed to survive tomorrow but afterwards was finally the weekend. “Any ideas on what to watch?”

“Disney.”

“Yeah, I figured, but that hardly narrows it down.”

Before Roman can say any more, a knock again sounds through the room.

“You think Logan forgot something?” Roman wonders, sitting up.

“Nah, he would knock once and then come in. Maybe he sent Remus to get something? Though I doubt it.”

Virgil gets up to open the door again, at least this visitor was a more polite knocker than Remus.

As the door swings open, it reveals a very displeased looking Janus, who immediately groans.

“Hello to you too,” Virgil says amused, though they step aside to let his second partner in, who immediately makes a beeline to the bed and let’s himself fall down on it, placing his head in Roman’s lap.

“I am so done with this week,” Janus whines, not even hiding his annoyed-ness behind his usual snark. That immediately clues both Roman and Virgil in that something is seriously bothering him.

“What happened?” Roman asks, stroking Janus’ hair, pulling a soft purr out of him. Virgil joins them on the bed, moving Janus’ legs so he can sit down beneath him, gently massaging his shins.

“Ugh, Patton’s been driving me up a wall. I love the guy, you know I do, but he’s been just insufferable the last few days.”

“How so?”

“He has some coursework due and been struggling with it. I offered him my help, but he insists that he can get it done by himself. Which would be fine if he wasn’t constantly whining and yelping unhappily while he does so! Plus, his tail goes haywire, too, hitting against his chair. He’s not even aware of it most of the time so even if I ask him to stop it only helps for like a minute at most. Which is also why he can’t do it in the library! I just wanted to read a book in peace, but he just wouldn’t shut up! So, I decided to get out of there before I force him to let me help.”

“A good decision,” Roman agrees. “I’m sure Pat will make it up to you with cookies.”

“He better.” Janus takes a deep breath, the tension in his shoulders slipping away. “I’m not really mad at him.”

“We know,” Virgil reassures.

“It’s understandable that it can get frustrating though. But you’re here now and we can just have a relaxing evening.”

“Yes please,” Janus sighs, pushing his head more into Roman’s hand.

“We were trying to find out what to watch before you came in.”

Janus sits up abruptly, staring at them both accusatory.

“How come I wasn’t invited to this little hangout in the first place?” he pouts. “How often do you do this, leaving me all alone to the coldness of my bed?”

“Oh, stop being dramatic. That’s Roman’s schtick.”

“Hey!”

“And we didn’t plan this. Remus decided he wanted its boyfriend to themselves, so she dragged Roman over here to get their room to himself. We probably would have texted you after we picked something to do.”

“Probably? You wound me, Virgil!”

“We literally just sat down,” Roman adds, again patting Janus’ hair which gets him to relax a bit. “You seem more on edge than usual, are you not sleeping well again?”

Janus sighs, rubbing his temples.

“With the whole Patton thing, I had a hard time concentrating on my own work. And maybe I had a nightmare a few days ago.” He says that last bit quietly and Roman simply hugs him from behind, gently wrapping his wings around him.

“We’re here for you if you want to talk about it.”

“I know.”

“That sounds like someone who doesn’t want to talk about it,” Virgil guesses, eyebrows raised. Janus nods.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Roman squeezes him one more time before letting go and moving further onto the bed to get comfortable.

“Then let us rest the topic and find something to watch. My vote is for the Emperor’s New Groove!”

“Yeah, I’m cool with that,” Virgil shrugs, pulling out their box full of Disney DVDs. What can they say? They were there for the invention of VHS and DVD and they 100% prefer them over streaming services. Logan and them have a nice set-up of a tv connected with a DVD player, a switch and a PS4.

They pop the DVD in and move back to the bed where Roman is waiting for them with open arms. They’re leaning back against the headrest, wings spread wide and invitingly. Janus has already squished himself between the wall and Roman, his head resting against their thigh. His eyes already seem to grow heaving and Virgil hopes that he can find the rest he clearly needs.

“Want any snacks?” they ask, keeping their voice low. Janus just hums noncommittally, probably in no mood to move while Roman looks thoughtful.

“If you have something not messy or sticky?”

“I’ve got some gummy bears?”

“Sounds good.”

Virgil opens the snack cabinet they share with Logan and pulls out a bag of candy and a bowl, transferring the gummy over so that the rustling of the bag won’t disturb them during the movie. Then they get back to the bed, plop the bowl onto Roman’s lap before taking their seat at his side.

“Thank you, my darling knight,” Roman smiles, pressing a kiss to their cheek before fishing out a gummy from the bowl.

“Shut up and watch the film,” Virgil laughs, leaning into his side. This wasn’t what they had planned for the night, but this works just fine for them.

[rhondafromhr]

Nerds corruption au chapter 5!!

Thank you so much to everyone who’s been reading so far! This is the first thing I’ve written in literal years and all the likes/reblogs/comments have been super encouraging :) Also, quick update: I have an ao3 account now (same username - rhondafromhr), where I’ll be uploading what I’ve written so far. I’m going to adjust the formatting and fix any mistakes I happen to catch but other than that it’ll be identical. After this, I’ll probably just update there and post the link on here whenever there’s a new chapter. Unless anyone strongly prefers to read it in tumblr post format (I can always do both). Hope y’all enjoy!

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“We’re Gonna Become The Bullies” - Chapter 5: No Matter The Cost, Idle The Threat

Hey gang, I have another plan <3 Let’s all meet at Beanies when Max is done with football practice and I’ll give you the rundown

Suddenly, Stephanie’s a lot less excited to have her phone back. How did Grace even get her number? More importantly, why is somebody whose last plan almost ended in manslaughter out here cooking up more plans? Stephanie knows she probably shouldn’t encourage this, but her morbid curiosity is just strong enough that she’s compelled to reply: cool, see you guys there. This better not be about Grace’s campaign to cancel the dance. Stephanie may or may not have an itemized list of cute homecoming proposal ideas for Pete and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get to use at least one of them. If only Grace could see that she’s totally wrong about co-ed dances. They’re not just an excuse to dry hump in the gym. It’s heavily in the mix, sure, but it’s not the only thing. There’s also underage drinking and dancing awkwardly. It’s an essential high school experience. Now that she thinks about it, Grace has probably missed out on a lot of dumb teenage shenanigans thanks to her sheltered upbringing. Huh, that’s actually kind of sad. Maybe if Grace is open to it, they can help her catch up.

Before she can ponder that too much, she notices Brad Callahan passing by in the hallway, which obviously means she has to stop what she’s doing to raise her fist at him threateningly and call him a weak ass bitch. He flinches and hurries along. God, she’s been doing that every single time she encounters him and it still hasn’t gotten old. She might feel bad if it was anyone else, but Brad sucks. The best part is knowing he can’t do anything about it. She’s beginning to understand why Max does this sort of thing.

She has a couple of hours to kill before they’re meeting up, so she opts to spend them in the library at least trying to get some homework done. Not her idea of a good time, but she figures she should keep her grades high enough that her dad doesn’t get on her case again. Between the better grasp of the material that she now has courtesy of Peter’s tutoring and once again having access to her favorite chill lo-fi study beats playlist on Spotify, it’s not as painful as usual and she manages to finish most of her math worksheet before heading out.

True to form, Grace is already there waiting for everybody when Stephanie arrives. She has two disposable coffee cups in front of her, at least one of which Stephanie assumes contains hot water (seriously, what is her fixation with drinking plain hot water? Even if she’s anti-caffeine, why not just drink herbal tea or something?). Stephanie orders a hot chocolate for Pete along with an iced americano for herself, then joins Grace at the cozy table in the corner. The dainty little bell attached to the door dings to indicate Ruth’s arrival.

“Hi, Ruth,” Grace greets her, sliding Ruth one of the drinks as she sits down “This is for you. It’s tea with honey, the barista said it would be good for your voice. Gotta make sure it’s rested up for the show!”

“Since when are you in the show?” Stephanie asks Ruth “I thought you were doing the lighting board.”

“As of right now, yes,” Grace answers for her “but if you saw her perform, you’d agree she should be the one up on stage, not Trevor.” She says his name with absolute contempt.

“I still don’t know about this,” says Ruth “What if we get in trouble? I don’t want this to affect my chances of getting into college. Everyone knows that’s where all the really spicy sexual experimentation happens, watch some porn!”

“Oh, that won’t be an issue. Haven’t you heard? I’m the hall monitor,” Grace replies.

“Wow, Chasity, no comment on the porn thing? You must be laser focused on whatever this plan is.”

“There’ll be plenty of time for Ruth to reconsider that vow of chastity later,” Grace says as Ruth emphatically shakes her head no “but right now the most important thing is to make sure that lead role goes to the person who actually deserves it.”

Max and Richie arrive next, barely taking notice of the rest of the group as they sit down. Max’s anxious energy is palpable (even if he’s no longer taking his bad moods out on them, he sure can drag down the energy in a room). Richie seems to be trying to talk him down.

“Max, there’s nothing to be worried about! You guys looked great at practice today. There’s no way we’re losing to Clivesdale tomorrow. This is what you’ve been training for,” Richie says.

Max doesn’t seem convinced. “Yeah, but that’s what I thought before the last game and we got destroyed. I don’t want to sleep outside again, it’s been getting really cold out! I could die from hypothermia and become a ghost. You know how I feel about ghosts, Richie!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asks, racking his brain to try and figure out the connection between losing the big game and becoming a hypothermic ghost.

“When we lost to Sycamore, my dad locked me out of the house and made me sleep outside that night,” Max explains “but this is fuckin’ Clivesdale we’re talking about. If we lose to them, it’ll probably be for a week straight.” Richie, Ruth and Grace stare at him in stunned silence. Stephanie just gives him a sympathetic pat on the arm.

“Max,” Richie says, gentle and reassuring “we’re your sworn friends now, which means we’re not letting you sleep outside even if you single-handedly make us lose to Clivesdale. Just stay over at my place.”

“But doesn’t Paul, like, hate me?”

“Oh, he does not hate you. He’s just a little weary of you on account of the years of relentlessly bullying me. He’s going to be out of town, anyway.”

“Ooh, we should all have a sleepover, then!” Ruth says excitedly “That’s where sexy pillow fights happen!”

Stephanie shrugs. “Sure. Beats going home.”

“Oh, that actually does sound fun! My parents would never let me go to a co-ed sleepover, though,” Grace says wistfully.

“Just tell them it’s an overnight bible study and maybe conveniently forget to mention that the boys’ll be there,” Stephanie suggests “if it makes you feel better, I’ll even let you read, like, one passage to me so you’re not technically lying.” This elicits the brightest, most genuine smile she’s ever seen from Grace. Stephanie hopes the passage is at least one of the cool, violent ones and not something basic like “Love is patient, love is kind.” With Grace, it could go either way.

Richie doesn’t comment on everyone essentially inviting themselves over to his house. He simply leaves the table and returns with two mint teas, one of which he hands to Max.

“Here. This always makes me feel a little better when I’m anxious.”

“What? Thanks, bro. That’s so sweet.” Max can’t remember the last time he felt so loved. He never thought he’d have friends who care enough about him to bring him tea when he’s stressed and not let him freeze in the Michigan winter all night just because he loses a game.

All this talk about freezing to death reminds Stephanie that Pete’s hot chocolate is getting cold. Beverages at Beanie’s are best consumed piping hot - the spit is less noticeable that way. Hatchetfield has its fair share of strange, unexplainable phenomena, but why the health department has yet to crack down on this place might be the biggest mystery of all. Why people still come here fully knowing about the spit thing is a close second. Peter finally arrives and gratefully accepts what is now essentially gross, lukewarm chocolate milk.

“Alright, now that everybody’s here we can get started,” Grace begins “As you all know, the theater department cast Trevor in the lead for The Barbecue Monologues. Trevor!” Once again, she utters his name with vitriolic hatred. “Obviously, this is an absolute travesty and it’s our responsibility to fix it. I watched the rest of that rehearsal and he completely phoned in ‘Just For Once’. He can’t even get his lines right, let alone understand the emotional gravity of that song like Ruth does. You can’t tell me it’s God’s will to have Trevor up on that stage instead of her!”

“So, how are we getting Trevor off the stage, then? I need to know how deeply I should regret getting involved in this,” Peter quips. To his surprise, he doesn’t actually feel all that apprehensive. If anything, he’s kind of intrigued, wondering how they’re going to pull this off.

“Well, tomorrow morning I’m going to arrive at school for my usual morning duties and discover a heinous act of vandalism. I guess Trevor and his understudy decided to pull a little senior prank.”

“Wait, we’re framing Rudolph, too? Isn’t it way too convenient that the lead and his understudy both get in trouble this close to opening night? It’s going to look suspicious,” Richie replies.

“Well, those two do everything together! It’d be weirder if they weren’t both in on it. In fact, they’re so close they have these adorable matching friendship bracelets that they never take off. Except during dress rehearsals, that is. You got them, right, Ruth?” Ruth produces two thin, handmade woven bracelets from her backpack. “And at the scene of the crime, apparently, because that’s where they’re going to be found.”

“The scene of the crime?” Peter echoes back.

“The gym. They had the audacity to spray paint…” Grace lowers her voice to a whisper so the rest of the café patrons don’t hear the absolutely vile phrase leave her mouth “…‘Go Clivesdale’ on the wall right before the big game!” The rest of the group audibly gasps. Richie chokes on his tea.

“Go Clivesdale?” he sputters, “isn’t that taking it a little far? Maybe we should just write some swears or something.”

“Or anatomically correct nude drawings!” Ruth chimes in “I have a ton of pictures on my phone we can use for references.”

“Ruth, no. And Richie, the whole point is that it’s too far! We need to do something severe enough for them to actually get in serious trouble. Do you want Ruth to get her moment in the spotlight or not?”

Of course he does. Ruth has been by his side for years and helped him through some of the worst times of his life. He knows how much performing means to her. How she’s been missing out on it for years not for lack of talent or passion, but simply because her anxiety holds her back. If she finally feels confident enough to get up on stage, he decides, he’ll do anything to make that happen. Besides, Grace’s last plan worked out pretty well in the end.

“Okay, I’m in,” Richie says.

“For Ruth,” Pete agrees.

“I still don’t know her super well, but sure, for Ruth,” says Stephanie.

“See, this is why I love you guys! This plan is so smart and sneaky. I’d usually just beat him up and scare him into quitting, but this is way more fun!” Max adds.

“There’s a thought. That might actually be less effort than breaking and entering,” Stephanie muses. She is, of course, purely concerned with efficiency and is not at all thinking about the adrenaline rush she got from beating up Brad and itching to feel it again.

“We’re not breaking and entering. I’ve been a little preoccupied lately and I just might have forgotten to lock the side door to the gym this morning. We’ll just walk right in,” Grace responds with a wicked smile “speaking of which, we should head over. All the staff should be gone for the day. Steph, you’re our getaway driver!” They all follow Grace out of the café, blissfully unaware that they lingered for twenty minutes past closing time.

While her coworkers grumble about entitled customers ignoring their posted hours of operation, Zoe smiles to herself. She caught most of that conversation and can’t help but root for those kids. Committing sabotage to steal the lead role like that? Iconic. They’ve also stolen her heart. She wishes she was half as bold at their age. Their drinks will be on the house next time they come in. Maybe she won’t even spit in them.

The next morning, principal Blim arrives at work feeling less than his best, to say the least. He kicks himself for agreeing to attend “Thirsty Thursday” on a work night - he’s in his forties, who is he kidding? He really needs to stop hanging out with his cousin Barry. That guy was sure “in a hurry” to slam as many consecutive tequila shots as possible last night. He really didn’t care for Barry’s sketchy friend that joined them, either. He got way too drunk and made some comment about locking his kid out of the house whenever his football team loses. The dirtbag seemed completely serious about it, too. He knows Barry’s been going through it with the divorce, but he’s going to have a serious talk with him about how he’s been coping and the company he keeps. He drags himself to the teacher’s lounge for the coffee he desperately needs, trying to ignore the obnoxious fluorescent lights boring into his eyes and making the pounding in his head exponentially worse. As he makes his way to his office, he begs whatever higher power might be listening for a calm, uneventful day. Said higher power must be feeling vindictive, because he’s immediately greeted by a crying, frantic Grace Chasity.

“Principal Blim, thank goodness you’re here! I was doing my morning rounds a-and I stopped in the gym and somebody wrote-“ she sobs “it’s so awful, I can’t even say it!”

“It’ll be okay, Grace. Let’s head over there together and you can show me.”

There’s no need to panic yet. Knowing Grace, this could easily be her reaction to something that’s mildly crude at worst. At least that’s what he thinks until they enter the gymnasium and he realizes she’s absolutely right to be so worked up. See, there’s a beautiful, haunting, hyper-realistic mural of a nighthawk flying over the Hatchetfield Witchwood on the wall opposite the bleachers. It’s been there for about fifteen years now, painted by a former student who was slated to go to a prestigious art school, but sadly went out into that very Witchwood one day and did not make it to the end of her senior year. Now that mural has been desecrated in a manner absolutely unforgivable. As he gazes upon with horror, he drops his mug and the sound of glass shattering on the linoleum floor echoes through the empty gymnasium. This is the foulest, most offensive thing he’s ever seen in his life. He can’t even begin to imagine what type of disgusting human being would do something like this. “Go Clivesdale!” Somebody had the nerve to write “Go Clivesdale!” over the Nighthawk mural! Right before the big game, no less! He’ll catch the perpetrator and make them pay if it’s the last thing he does.

[ellecdc]

okay no pressure in answering this at all if you’re not comfortable but i’ve been having many Thoughts lately and i wanted to share them with somebody but nobody ik will listen and you’re my favorite blog

i’m on summer break from college right now which means i don’t have a constant stream of Things To Do, so i have a lot of free time, which i usually spending thinking about the marauders (guilty)

but since i’ve been home (abt 3 weeks) ive been getting super overwhelmed in the fandom, not bc of anybody but because i have so much Love for content. like i love the fandom so much and i love fics and fanart and edits and stuff like that, and i don’t think i have a limit

i feel like i spend too much time engaging in the community, or even just thinking about characters (primarily the Noble House of Black lol) and i don’t get me wrong, i love it so much, but almost to a point where it’s overwhelming and i get emotional randomly and sometimes i feel like that’s not normal?

like i feel like i might be genuinely addicted - i haven’t gone a day without opening ao3/tumblr/tiktok to see fandom content in a very long time and as much as i love to embrace that fact, i can’t figure out why that scares me so much

i hope this makes sense. i just needed to tell somebody because im starting to feel like something is wrong with me lol

like i said, no need to respond if you don’t feel comfortable. i just wanted to put it into words

I don’t think there’s anything “wrong” with liking something ‘so’ much and being so invested in something as long as it’s not taking away/affecting the rest of your life?

If you’re still able to take care of yourself physically (showering, eating, sleeping, cleaning), and if you’re still able to enjoy your personal and social life (going to work/school etc, hanging with friends, engaging with family members), and it’s not hurting anyone (yourself or loved ones), then what’s the harm?

I literally cannot think about canon at all, I was telling my mutual this the other day - they’d asked me what my other mutuals told me about ATYD because they were thinking of reading it and I told them and literally felt sick to my stomach thinking about it afterwards 😅 like no, perhaps that’s not ‘normal’ but that’s also why I’m in fanfiction? I can’t watch TV shows or movies because I get too emotional and too invested that I can’t handle anything angsty or sad. So I spend time in fanfiction to kind of “fix” it for me, and it makes me happy!

When I was in my first degree probably ~19, I was going through a hard time and would go for walks with my dog like 3 times a day for almost 45mins-1.5 hours each time (so walking almost 3 hours out of the day) just so I could escape my present reality and live in my little daydreams I created for myself. I became so reclusive and was over exerting myself, under eating, not socializing and started getting emotional because I preferred my daydreams to my current reality

Sometimes that’s life saving for people so I am an advocate for people doing what they need to do to get by - BUT - for me, that’s when it became unhealthy

So no, i don’t think liking/loving fanfic “too much” is abnormal (maybe it is but then we’re all freaks here) and i don’t think it’s unhealthy unless you’re unable to care for yourself otherwise

[localplaguenurse]

I am just nosy, forgive me. Can you describe each one of your mutuals?

Buckle up people and prepare to get complimented >:3c

First and foremost, they’re all absolute sweethearts to me.

There are my irl friends, such as @wretchedshade, @granolabird, @siriuscitrus and @scales-of-stardust or beta as I usually refer to them. I share the same braincell with these people.

Wretchedshade has been my best friend since we were ten, we’ve been there for each other for 11 years. I initially got her into anime, and then she got me into jojo, and every once in a while we cry about Doukyuusei again. She’s a great artist and is really good at writing sad shit, which is why I write sad shit; to have the glory of finally making her cry. She kicked cancer’s teeth in a few months ago so it’s about goddamn time something good come her way and I WILL fight someone on that.

Granolabird is the dm for my dnd campaign, and like I said, absolute sweetheart, chaotic adhd haver (actually like most of my friend group is like this lmao we’re all queer and neurodivergent). Either way, we used to share thoughts on each other’s original stories, and we still do sometimes but it’s mostly just sending each other tiktoks/reels like “this you” or “this your oc.”

Siriuscitrus is usually pretty hyper, but also tries to be v considerate of everyone’s feelings. If you said that the McDonald’s employee put pickles on your burger when you said no, they’d probably be the one to tell them. They’re also scarily good at vibechecking people and told me I give “future he/they vibes” and like a week later I said “fuck you’re right oh my god.”

You’ve probably seen me and beta’s interactions on here or in the ao3 comments. We enjoy our like playful rivalry/enemyship. I like to torment tease her and she usually gets me back pretty good, it’s all in good fun. It’s also really funny to me whenever we meet up, I tell myself “you are friends with them for reasons other than fic so do not make it about fic” and then we’ll spend literally hours talking about and brainstorming fic ideas. It just Happens.

I’m also gonna add @memory-mortis into here because while we’ve not met irl I’ve introduced him to my friend group. Yet another sweetheart, love her art style a lot, and she was one of the first comments I got on ginkgo trees to motivate me to keep going. I was kinda worried about bringing him into my friendgroup because like if I’m not overthinking I am not thinking At All. I was super relieved and happy that she like IMMEDIATELY fit in with everyone so :D

For some of my other close but only on tumblr/ao3/outside my general friendgroup mutuals! (There are too many so I’m sorry if you’re not here it’s mostly people I interact with more regularly ;-;)

@crimson-ashes who I have occasionally with absolute love called my “askbox gremlin” because they live in my inbox. I need to stress this is affectionate because genuinely, I love opening tumblr and seeing I’ve got asks from them. They gotta stop posting Astarion though because I’m feeling So Tempted to play BG but I know my laptop would kill itself (joking).

@crystalflygeo and I know I’ve called everyone sweethearts but genuinely, she’s probably one of the sweetest people I’ve had the pleasure of talking to. She’s really wholesome (unlike her writing which is never gonna be a complaint in my book, good soup) and super supportive of other people.

@madamemachikonew who’s super polite and really kind. She’s also really creative/smart when it comes to referencing real world art and philosophy in her writing and integrating it into her own worldbuilding. I would have never thought to have done that, and it makes her writing very unique!

We don’t interact as much but @probably-doesnt-exist, @ethve, @euniveve and @ainescribe are such talented artists and super sweet, have literally made me screech and cackle with utter joy whenever they draw the characters from ginkgo trees. I rotate through which art becomes my phone’s lock/home screens.

This is long af but fuck it, I wanna brighten people’s days and I told myself to say “I love you” to my friends and family more, so consider this one big “I love you!” to y’all. It’s a pleasure talking to y’all!

[monolite001]

I had parents who were very strict about internet usage

I never got allowed to read web comics or play mobile games so I could only get to text-heavy websites

Which led me to spending time reading Korean equivalent of Wikipedia

One day in 2016 on tis website I read an article about a trending, award-winning video game called "Undertale". I was 14.

Something about this game appealed to me immediately. I bought it on Steam. That was the first time I ever purchased a video game.

Needed a language patch because I wasn't fluent in English back then. Became a member of a video game community just to have the language patch. That was my first time I ever got into an online community.

Finished the game without searching anything up. Finished every route. I loved the game. I started to look for more secrets and info from the community mentioned above.

People posted fan arts and fan fics there. I read them. I loved them. That was my first ever exposure to a fandom.

I watched the fandom grow. AUs started to develop. I liked them. Got interested in reading the original contents for the AUs, which were mostly in English.

And that just HAPPENED to be around the time I came to America and my English started to improve

I could read so many comics. I looked at so many different Tumblr blogs. Then I learned AO3 was a thing. That was a huge different world full of fan fictions.

I found that Error was my favorite. If it involved Error, I gave it a try. Mostly oneshots tho, because English still wasn't my first language and I was the world's slowest reader.

Then one day I came across a 25 chapter, 140k-word-long fic. The prologue already was half an hour of reading for me.

And I somehow decided to keep reading it. Knowing fully well it would take me at least a month with my normal reading speed. I just felt like I would like this fic.

And that was The Council of the Inevitable. I read all of it in 3 days, from start to finish, doing nothing else during those days.

That story was breathtaking. Literally. I never felt so absorbed into anything ever before. I ranted about it in my personal notes. I ranted about how much I loved the author wrote the characters just so perfectly and how brilliant the plot was. I also started writing my own little analysis and theories amd predictions.

I re read the fic. And I re re read it. I wrote more notes. I did that for 3 years, from 2020 to 2023. I wrote over 200 notes about it.

And I decided that it was physically unberable to keep that level of excietment and passion just to myself. I wrote an ask to the author's Tumblr blog I had found, including a fanart and a message about how much I loved her fic.

And she replied. She followed me back. I posted a couple more fan arts I had made and she liked them too.

And she had a Discord server. I looked at it and thought, maybe in there are people who love this story just as much as I do. I downloaded Discord created an account. I joined the server.

And I was right. And I never knew how much fun it was to have people who love the same thing as I do. Someone to share my excitement with.

So I'm really not exaggerating when I say everything regarding TCOTI was a miracle.

If any of the things listed above didn't happen I wouldn't have been here right now. What are the odds, really?

So if THIS happened, who's to say something as good as this wouldn't happen again?

TL;DR: My parents were strict. This led me to shipping copies of the same skeleton falling in love with each other.