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xxbimbobunnyxx · 8 months

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Purple Houses and Paranorman

(Single!Dad Eddie Munson x Single!Mom Reader)

Summary: Eddie asks you and Oliver to go to a special screening of Paranorman with him and Charlotte. WK: 3.9K

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Warnings: Basically none, modern AU, mention of a dead family member (readers aunt), There’s like one second where Eddie is checking reader out and his thoughts get a little carried away, readers son has a speech delay, reader is implied to be alternative and have tattoos but I don’t talk about it much besides her outfits, fluff fluff and moreee fluff. But as always my blog is 18+MNDI

A/N: So I might have gotten a tiny bit carried away talking about the house, it wasn’t something I originally planned out but it kind of just came to me as I was writing, I’d like for them to all live there together eventually. I’m trying to make it a lil slow burn but I suck at that so hard so we will see how much longer I can go without making them kiss LOL. Also I said these were blurbs and this is almost 4K sooo Oopsie. As always my requests for these guys are open and feedback is greatly appreciated.💜💚

Your phone vibrated and the screen lit up, the contact reading “Eddie🎸🦇” you smiled to yourself before pushing the green accept button.

“Helloooo Edward, what can I do for you on this fine autumn morning?”

“Hey weirdo” He let out a laugh, one you’ve grown to find comfort in over these last few weeks. “What are you and Oli up to today? The theater is doing a special showing of Paranorman and I was wondering if you guys would wanna go with us later?”

“What’s in it for me?” You joked.

“Ummm you get to spend time with your bestfriend and do something Halloween related, which I know you love.”

“Bold of you to assume you’re my bestfriend.” You laughed, knowing he definitely had become the best friend you have but still wanting to fuck with him a little.

“Me? I’m talking about Charlotte, you are her new self proclaimed bestfriend and also you do her hair better than me, apparently. Can’t believe my own daughter likes you more than me.” He sighed dramatically and you could practically see him faux fainting.

“Awww I love her, she’s my new bestfriend too. Verdict is still out on her dad though.”

“WOW I can’t believe you would betray me like this, I thought you loved me.”

“Don’t worry, you’re better at playing monster than me apparently sooo I think we are even. What time do you want to go?”

“I guess we can call it even, for now. How about around two? Gives us a few hours to get the goblins fed and ready to go.”

Jokingly teasing each other had become the norm for you and Eddie, easily falling into flirty banter since the day you met.

“Okay, perfect.”

“Want to meet us there? Or I can come get you guys and we can ride together.”

Something you had noticed about Eddie is how perceptive he was. He picked up early on that you’d avoid going places you’d have to drive especially if you’d never been there before, which in those first few weeks was essentially everywhere. So he always offered to pick you and Oliver up whenever you all did something together.

“Could you pick us up? If that’s okay.”

“I wouldn’t have offered it if it wasn’t okay, babe.” Babe, was something he only started calling you recently but it made you giddy every time.

He was also constantly reassuring you that he didn’t mind helping you when you needed it. He knows how hard it is to do this alone so he was always offering to do anything to make things easier on you. Even if it was something as small as picking you and your son up for a movie. At first you declined his help every chance he offered, used to doing things alone, not wanting to burden him. But he’s told you over and over how he doesn’t mind, that it makes him happy to be able to help you.

So who could blame you if you had developed a not so small crush on him? You tried not to, but he was all kind gestures, big brown eyes and chunky jewelry. So how could you not? It’s not your fault it was like he was your dream come to life. You weren’t positive but you were pretty sure he felt the same. Hugs started lingering just a little longer than they should have, hands started brushing when you followed behind your rowdy children on evening walks, the cute little pet names he would always call you that made your stomach flip, the kisses on the cheek you had started giving each other.

So after you got Oli ready you gave him his tablet and spent a little extra time getting ready. You did your hair in your favorite style and added just a tiny bit more makeup than usual, both turned out perfect. But now you were standing in front of your open closet, staring at it like the perfect outfit was just going to jump out at you.

The October chill had set in throughout Hawkins, the days still sunny but the breeze cold, not quite bone chilling like in mid December, but cold enough that you needed some layers. You were also going to be sitting in a movie seat for two hours even if they were the reclining ones you didn’t want to spend that amount of time sitting in jeans.

After trying on several outfits, you ended up deciding on a black long sleeve skater dress, the neckline scooped just enough to make your boobs look nice. You layered some thigh high socks and leg warmers before pulling on your boots. You grabbed a plain zip-up just in case you got cold in the theater and gave yourself a once over in the mirror.

You couldn’t deny the fact that you looked good, and you hoped Eddie would think so too. He had never seen you this dolled up, usually wearing more comfortable clothes and simpler make-up.

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, a mixture of emotions going through you. Excitement to see Eddie was in the forefront, but the nervousness was lingering in the background. Are you reading things wrong? Is it smart to get involved with someone that your son has already started to form an attachment to? You took a deep breath, checking your hair one last time before shaking your head as if it would erase those feelings like an etch-a-sketch, willing yourself to enjoy something for once.

When you decided you were as ready as you’d ever be you got on Oliver’s shoes and jacket before grabbing your purse and taking him outside on the porch to wait on the swing. You smiled to yourself as you looked at the porch you spent many summers drinking lemonade with your aunt. The various wind chimes that hung moons and stars and zodiac symbols chime in the mid October breeze.

You loved this house, it belonged to your late aunt who left it to you in her will when she died. It was beautiful but eccentric, kind of like your aunt herself. It stuck out among the many suburban style houses in your neighborhood. It was a late 1800s Victorian style home, with beautiful arches and various types of windows, a wrap-around porch, and a beautiful backyard with a garden that your aunt cared for until the day she couldn’t anymore. You and Eddie had planted pumpkins back there with the kids in her honor, she’s the reason you love them so much after all. They were almost ready to be harvested and carved, a Halloween movie on in the background and the smell of pumpkin seeds baking in the oven.

But what really made the house stand out was that your aunt had it painted a deep purple color, the shutters and roof black, matching the porch. The door was black but it had a beautiful stained glass window in the middle of it, depicting the same kind of crescent moon and stars that dangled from the wind chimes. Inside there were four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living and family room that held a mixture of her old and your new furniture, and your favorite part, the kitchen. It had been updated since the house was built, but still held a vintage feel. Your aunt had the cabinets and drawers all painted the same purple as the outside of the house, wallpaper with those same moons and stars adorned the walls. The only modern thing about it being the fact that she had replaced all the appliances with shiny new ones.

It was a lot of space, too much for just you and Oliver. But you couldn’t bring yourself to sell it, some of your happiest memories were spent here. So you decided you’d take this opportunity and get the fresh start you’ve been needing. You didn’t have much keeping you back home anyways. You and your mom weren’t particularly close but when she found out your aunt left you everything, not just the house, but her money too, she was furious.

Now that you’ve settled you know it was the right choice. Oli started school and despite his struggles with communication he was thriving in class, you got a job at a local diner where you made pretty decent tips, you had this beautiful house, and last but not least you had Eddie and Charlotte.

•

A large smile stretched across Eddie’s face when he turned down your long driveway and saw you and your son sitting on the porch. He loves your house, he used to drive by it when he would deal to the rich kids in highschool and always admired it. But when you stood up his jaw actually dropped. He had never seen you in a dress before, you always looked beautiful but right now you were fucking radiant.

He got out of his SUV to help you get Oliver’s seat in and you were even more breathtaking up close.

“Wow. You look… wow.” Eddie shamelessly lets his eyes wander your form for a moment, his cheeks turning red when he reaches that little sliver of skin between your socks and your dress.

“Thanks, babe. You’re not so bad yourself, I guess.” You repeated his words from earlier back to him and he cackled.

“Ha ha veeerry funny, brat.” He stuck his tongue out at you.

“Reaaaal mature, nerd.”

“Hi Eddie!” Oli ran over to hug Eddie’s legs and smiled triumphantly, having recently gotten his new friend's name down.

“Hey little dude! How’s a going?” He gave your son a wide smile while he affectionately ruffled his hair.

“Where Char?” He tilted his head to the side, more concerned with where his friend was than answering Eddie’s question.

“She’s in the car buddy, you wanna to say hi to her while I get your seat in?”

He just nodded, grabbing your hand and dragging you around to the other side of the car where Charlotte was, knowing he’s not supposed to walk down the driveway without holding hands.

Eddie couldn’t help but watch you walk away, internally groaning when he saw that same sliver of skin from the back. The dress is long enough to cover your ass, but not by much and he can’t help but imagine flipping the skirt of it up and-

“Eddie? Are you gonna put the seat in the car or are you just gonna stand there and ogle me?”

You couldn’t help but tease him when you turned around and he was just standing there holding the car seat with his mouth hanging open.

“Huh? Oh! Uh, yeah- yeah sorry.” His face turned beat red and he turned his back to put the seat in to try and hide it, but you saw it. At least you know he thinks you look cute, mission accomplished.

Once the kids were all buckled and ready to go you got in the passenger seat and flashed him a smile. He turned towards you and reached under your seat, his leather jacket covered arm going across your thighs where your dress rode up. You tried to act like your heart wasn’t beating a thousand miles a minute whenever you were this close to him, hopefully succeeding.

But Eddie caught the tiniest little squeak that came out of the back of your throat when he first touched you. Feeling satisfied with himself that he had any kind of affect on you because you made him feel like he was in highschool with a crush on a girl he didn’t have a chance with. But you were constantly showing him that maybe he did have a chance with you.

He pulled a bag from under your seat, plopping it in your lap.

“Me and the princess stopped at the dollar store and got your guys’ favorite candy. I figured since the movie theater candy is like crazy expensive we could get the candy before and get popcorn and drinks at the theater.” He said it so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal that he remembered you and your son’s favorite treats. But to you, it was. Every single time you saw him he gave you another reason to fall for him.

“Wow, thank you Eds. That’s really thoughtful of you.” You smiled at him sweetly, the kind of smile that made him feel like he was going to melt into a puddle in the driver's seat.

“Of course Darlin’ anything for my favorite dude and my favorite girl.” He smiled back at you, the kind of smile that reminds you of sunshine that you wanted to bottle up for a rainy day.

He put the car in reverse and of course he had to put his hand on the headrest of the passenger seat while he pulled out. You just wanted to tilt your head up and kiss his wrist where his jacket rode up. You wanted to be close to him so badly, you’ve been trying to find the courage to ask him to hang out, just the two of you but you keep psyching yourself out. You didn’t have anyone to watch Oli anyways and if he wanted that he never hinted at it. Always suggesting things for you to do with the kids. Which you love, having someone think of both of you the way Eddie does is something you’ve never really had. But what you wouldn’t give for just a few hours alone with him, no kids, just being yourselves. But maybe he didn’t want that?

Eddie glanced over at you as he turned onto your street, you were staring out the window, chewing your lip that way you always did when you were thinking hard about something. Usually something that was upsetting you, so he did what any good friend would do and reached across the center counsel to grab your hand.

You whipped your head around at the feeling of his larger hand engulfing yours.

“You okay?” He ran his thumb over the top of it before intertwining your fingers. He had never held your hand before, and you felt your insides grow warm at the feeling. His palm was surprisingly soft against yours, but his fingers were calloused from years of playing guitar and working on cars. The juxtaposition of rough and smooth was more soothing than you ever could’ve imagined.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just got lost in thought for a second. Thank you for checking on me.”

You smiled at him sweetly, squeezing his hand in yours. Expecting him to let go after he knew you were alright but he just held on tighter. One hand on the wheel, the other in yours, hidden from the kids by the center console.

“DADDYYYYY! I want an icee, a blue oneeee!” Charlotte said in a sing-song voice.

“Okay baby, we can get a blue icee.” Eddie smiled at her in the rearview mirror and she clapped her hands in triumph.

“Oli, do you want an icee?” His eyes moved over to the other side of the backseat as he addressed your son.

“Yuuppp! Blueeee!” He said in the same sing song tone as his friend. He was always parroting her and saying things she said back to her and it warms your heart. He’s come so far with his communication skills since he started school and started spending so much time with Charlotte, you couldn’t be more proud of him.

Eddie held your hand up until he parked the car and took the keys out of the ignition. Squeezing it before placing a quick and sneaky kiss on the back of your hand, giving you one of those goofy smiles you love so much and exiting the car like he didn’t just make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

You got the kids out of their seats and walked into the movie theater, Charlotte and Oliver insisting on being in the middle so they could hold hands too. Eddie showed the guy at the ticket booth the barcode on his phone that had the tickets on it since he insisted on paying for everyone.

“Icee! Icee! Blue!” Oli jumped up and down as he pointed at the machine spinning the different colored slushy ice.

“Yeah baby, I’m gonna get you an Icee.” You chuckled at how cute his excitement was, letting him drag you toward the concession stand with Eddie and Charlotte in tow.

You ordered two small and two large blue Icees and a large popcorn. You go to pull your wallet out of your purse to pay since Eddie bought the tickets but you feel a large hand on yours, pushing it back down.

He already had his card out before you even open your purse, handing it to the woman behind the counter.

“Eddie… you paid for the tickets, it's the least I can do.”

“Nope. My treat.” A triumphant smile spread across his lips and he sent you a wink.

He always did this, paid for you, drove you, brought you little things he saw in the store that reminded him of you or Oli. It’s not like you didn’t have money, your aunt left you plenty of it and you had your job at the diner. But you knew Eddie did well for himself, he had told you some about his childhood, how he grew up with very little and he didn’t want his daughter to ever feel like he did as a kid. So after he finally graduated he and his uncle opened their own mechanic shop. It was fairly successful, their lower prices and more efficient work times drawing in and catering to the less wealthy people of Hawkins.

“Dada I have to go potty!” Charlotte tugged on Eddie’s hand, pouting toward the bathroom sign that was on the way to your designated theater.

“Alright sweets, let’s go potty. Oli and your bestie will go get our seats.”

She shook her head and pouted, looking at you with big round brown eyes, asking without verbalizing, something you’ve became an expert at understanding after having Oliver. Ever since you had all started going on outings together more often she had been asking you to take her to the bathroom. She had hardly ever gone in the girls room, always having to have her dad take her, so after you took her that first time, she always asked.

“Do you want me to take you potty honey?” You smiled at her sweetly, titling your head toward the bathroom.

“Yes! Please! I like going to the girl potty room!”

“Alright little dude, looks like it’s you and me with the snacks and the seats. They have lady business to attend to.” He grabbed the drink carrier from your hand, guiding Oli to walk in front of him into the bright colored double doors that led to dimly lit theater.

You stood outside the stall while Charlotte used the restroom, “standing guard” as she called it.

“Have you ever seen Paranorman before?” You asked her as you helped her wash her hands.

“No but my daddy said it’s a lot like Coraline and I love Coraline so I hope I will like this one too!” She smiled at you in the mirror.

“I’m sure you will, Oli loves it!” You helped her dry her hands before leading her out of the bathroom and into the theater to find the boys.

“Mommmmyyyy! Sit!” Oliver patted the seat on his left, signaling for you to sit down next to him. Charlotte sat to his right and to her right sat Eddie.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to sit by him before you even got here. But he felt like he was a world away with two reclining seats between you, it made you miss the old movie seats, at least then you’d be close enough to reach behind the kids to hold his hand over their heads. You missed his hand in yours the minute he let go, it still felt empty now even as you held the large cup filled with sugary blue slush in your hand.

The movie went as smoothly as it could’ve with two five year olds. You had to shush them both more than a few times and twenty minutes in, Oliver had to go to the bathroom, Eddie took him, he liked going in the boys bathroom just as much as Char liked going in the girls.

When it ended you corralled the kids back into the car, Eddie offering to drive through McDonald’s on the way to your house to get the kids happy meals and they cheered.

The ride was filled with small talk, jokes, and all four of you singing along to different songs on your playlist because Eddie even let you pick the music in his car. He never let anyone pick the music, it didn’t hurt that you had good taste.

When you were a few minutes from your house, just like before Eddie reached over to grab your hand. You took it instantly, intertwining your fingers and looking over at him with a shy smile.

“I had a lot of fun today, thanks for coming with us.” He glanced over at you at a stop sign, his smile sweet and his eyes filled with affection.

“I did too, thank you for inviting us. Next time I’m paying though.” You ran your thumb along his, the soft gesture contradicting the teasing tone in your voice.

“Yeah, we will see about that sweetheart.” He sent you a wink as he turned onto your street, giving your hand one last squeeze before getting out of the car to help you with the seat.

He got Oliver and his seat out of his car, you grabbed your son's hand and he held onto the car seat as he walked you a few feet to your door. He sits the seat down on the porch before turning to Oli and asking him for a high five, he happily obliged, even offering to bump knuckles with him in return.

“I really did have fun today, I love hanging out with you guys, it’s nice… to have someone else to do things with.” Eddie rocked on the balls of his feet with a bashful look on his face.

“It is nice, I’m glad we have you guys. I love spending time with you, both of you.” You were sure the smile on your face was lovesick and dopey but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care. “The pumpkins are almost ready to harvest, would you guys want to come over and carve them next weekend? We can put a Halloween movie on, make some popcorn, make a whole thing of it.”

“I’d love that, and I’m sure she would too. It’s a date.” His eyes widen as he realizes his choice of words and you can tell he's about to correct himself so you cut him off.

“It’s a date.” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug that he immediately reciprocates, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, his chin resting on the top of your head. You give him a final squeeze before pulling away and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight Eddie, get home safe.”

He was beat red with a flustered look on his face, you had kissed him on the cheek a few times now, but something about this felt different, more intimate.

“Goodnight sweetheart, sleep tight little dude!!” He waved at Oli before giving your forearm a squeeze and walking back towards his car. You sigh as you watch him drive away, knowing you’ll be counting down the days until next weekend.

Taglist: @comic-harley @yujyujj @witchwolflea @ali-r3n @bmunson86 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @sheneedsrocknroll92 @melodymunson

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagines #Eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #being weird is cool #Dolly writes

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

Note

Wholesome sibling antics with cricket crew? Like them getting reader on video/streams alot to play games (actual siblings) or maybe reader is a streamer and is very close with them, making people think you're siblings!

— 🦈 anon

oooo okay okay! I see the vision mwhahahahah ; and welcome to the family 🦈 anon! thanks for joining us :)

HANDSOME BROS ; sibling antics

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo & badlinu

warnings ; language, talk/jokes of killing, use of sibling!reader but can easily be skipped over/offered alternatives

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

siblinginnit goes crazy (if you're adopted or not/you're just that tight with him that you're basically siblings. I'm being inclusive I swear 😭🙏 maybe you just have different dads who knows)

you're also a streamer 💀💀

lots of fans came from your brothers' rise in fame, but most of them actually see you for your own person and not just Tommy's sibling

(or tommy's very close friend if you don't wanna imagine you're related that's totally cool)

you stream pretty frequently together

lots of your streams feature Molly because you gossip and make crafts together and shit

when you're streaming with Tommy, the yelling at playful fighting never ends

jack, freddie, tubbo & molly act as your peacemakers LMAO

board game streams once a month so you can gossip and shit

people making fanart of you two >>>

"siblinginnits 🔛🔝"

("I wish they were real siblings so they could share horror stories of each other growing up 💀💀")

vlogs go crazy when you're there istg

at least 3 mins of each video is you two just bickering and barking over dumb shit

TUBBO

"are tubbo and y/u/n siblings?"

"no but they act like it"

if he's not streaming for tubbathon or on the qsmp bc he's a suffering addict, he's probably making videos or streaming with you

you just have that clear dynamic that even tho you're not related, you're found family in every universe

late night board game streams >>>

or chill mc smp streams where you two just argue over what to use and complain about each others builds LMAO

you arguing with him that he needs to eat real food

him arguing back saying you should help him then

you made your qsmp selves be twins so...

somehow you're worse than cellbit & bagi

usually tubbo doesn't have sunny around to see but you guys are so violent to one another 💀

"wdym siblings don't threaten to kill one another?"

"my brother in christ"

but then comes the amazing fanart and fanworks 🙏🙏

sibling duo for the win

RANBOO

you're just that cool and tight with him yk

the fact that you're credited in the end of genloss s1 as creative writer 372828 or something, people started speculating maybe you were siblings??

you really don't look alike at all but alright chat

but yeah, you're very close and tend to talk/stream/record a lot together

you make a whole vlog channel and it's mostly you two going on adventures and stuff

helping them out with the rebrand too

you'll often play games together all night and half the stream is just you guys fighting over the best yogurt flavor

"Ran, I will come to your house and beat you up"

"I'm just saying I think I'm in the right here"

charlie and sneeg are like your uncles

the peacemaker uncles because there's no way you can be out in public without causing a scene 💀

you guys take .5s of each other EVERYWHERE

your insta stories are just spam .5s 💀🙏🙏

and dumbass roasts of each other

the fanart is cool tho, often they dress you guys in "I love my sibling" shirts LMFAO

FREDDIE BADLINU

you're actually adopted (much like Tommy /j)

but obviously, with Freddie comes the pain of him not getting your charger downstairs for you

LMAO but fr, uno and monopoly streams are very normal

lots of trying each others wardrobes out as well

hackett siblings fanart (as little as there is) goes hard

you guys do a little soldier march whenever Tommy mentions America, and he notices but doesn't connect it for a solid 3 months 💀

average sibling pranks as well, considering you're so close in age

your main victims are usually ranboo, tommy, and jack

djing with tubbo>>>> making bangers up in here

the amount of .5s you have of each other is worrying

you're both too lazy to delete them so you have the ugliest pictures of each other 💀💀

"my brothers leaving to go on a tour. what do I do to prank him when he gets back?"

"y/n this isn't the private account"

"damnit"

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #badlinu x reader #tubbo x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #cricket crew #cricket crew x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader

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alrightberries · 7 months

Text

seasons change

PAIRING: dabi x reader

SUMMARY: in which you and dabi are childhood best friends who are bad with feelings.

alternatively, all the words unspoken between you and dabi are summarized with just one short word: goodbye.

TAGS & WARNINGS: implied sex, smoking, kinda unhealthy relationship, implied body horror (it's dabi)

a/n: this has been rotting in my drafts for so long; i wrote this before dabi's backstory was officially revealed no one come for me for the wonky timeline

—

six.

you didn't like cleaning houses. or, a better way of putting it was, you didn't like cleaning someone else's house six days a week, four weeks a month, twelve months a year.

days always ended with back pain and scraped knees from the intense floor scrubbing, and you didn't like the way the wet rags would leave your fingers wrinkled and cramping.

your mom insisted that cleaning was fun because it built character and discipline. you insisted that it wasn't fun, and that cleaning your house was much easier than cleaning a mansion (but, really now, anything was a mansion to you compared to your one bedroom house).

"okay, how about we play another game?" your mom asks with a teasing smile. "whoever cleans the mops the fastest, wins!"

it was five o'clock in the evening and you were tired— your shoulders and elbows hurt and at this point you were ready to pass out in your futon back at home. but work is from seven to seven, and you still had to polish the gym's... red mill? treck mill? you can't remember what they were called.

"but momma, i'm tired." you whined. "can we go home now? i wanna go to school tomorrow."

the wide smile on your mom's face gets smaller, and you don't know how to describe it. she was smiling but why did she seem sad? smiles weren't meant to be sad.

"maybe you should skip school tomorrow too. don't you want to spend more time with momma?"

you do want to spend more time with momma, but you've been skipping school for two months now. you miss your friends. you miss when work was play, and play was play, and play was fun.

when you don't reply, your mom sighs and kneels on the floor, fingers lifting your chin to meet her eyes. "tell you what. how about you rest for now, okay? i'll clean up the mops and polish the treadmills, you stay here. if anyone comes in, just pretend to be cleaning, okay?"

"okay!"

her foot steps pad away when she slides the big door close, and you sigh when you finally sit down for the first time in what felt like hours. but just as soon as the doors slid close, they opened again, and you tense. you knew it wasn't your mom, mom always knocks.

"oh— uh, sorry." a boy, probably the son of your mom's client, murmurs in surprise. his white hair is the first thing you notice, his blue eyes (were they blue? maybe green?) the second. "i saw L/N-san leave the gym and thought you were finished."

"we're almost done," was the only thing you managed to say softly, before— "oh!" you dipped into a deep bow. "good evening, todorki-sama."

"ugh, sama?" you don't see but the boy grimaces. "don't call me that, you make me sound so old."

"i'm sorry, todoroki—"

"—san."

"okay, todoroki-san."

"...you can stop bowing now," he laughs awkwardly, and you straighten up. "my dad says i'm not supposed to talk to you."

"mom says I’m not supposed to talk to you either."

"oh."

a moment passes, and neither of you know what to say. you were still staring at the floor and fiddling with your hands while waiting for him to talk or leave or... something.

suddenly, todoroki clears his throat, awkwardly shifting around. "why don't the adults want us to talk?"

"i don't—"

"todoroki touya!" a firm voice booms from the doorway, and you grab a rag and start polishing the reck mill. you don't turn around when you hear todorki approach his father, footsteps fading away and the door sliding shut again.

no more than a minute later, your mom came back. she lifted your chin again and gave you a kiss on the forehead, small smile on her face when she grabbed a rag to help you clean.

she looked paler than she did when she left, and you don't mention it when you notice her fingers start shaking. you don't mention the red stuff on the white handkerchief peeking out of her pocket, either.

eight.

"i'm bored."

"okay."

"i'm bored."

"i heard you."

"y/n, i'm bored."

"what am i supposed to do about it?"

"...entertain me."

you smile. "entertain you how?"

"tell me about your quirk," todoroki said one day, mindlessly tapping his pencil on the table. there was some kind of math written on the papers in front of him, but it was gibberish in your eyes— you could, just barely, read and count, but you don't know what business a triangle has being surrounded by numbers and the ABCs.

"i don’t have one, todorki-san."

"touya-kun, i told you to call me touya-kun." he grumbles, and you giggle.

"okay, touya-kun." you don't know why touya kept talking to you— he was probably bored, like he said, and maybe lonely— but you liked his company.

"did the counselor say you were quirkless?"

"no," you adjust your grip on the broom. "mom says we can't afford quirk counseling, but she's quirkless so i probably am too."

"don't schools have free quirk counseling?"

school. huh, you haven't thought of that in a while. so you shrug. "i wouldn't know, i don't go to school anymore."

"really?!" he screeches, and you nod. a long, bored groan escapes his lips, and you laugh when be dramatically flops down on the floor. "you're so lucky!"

not really, you wanted to say. i'm just lucky you're homeschooled so i'm not alone. speaking of which—

"are those from training again?" you eye the bruises that litter his arms. you don't think you've ever seen him without a bruise in the years you've known each other.

"yeah, dad's been really strict lately," he says, and you don't get the chance to ask him more about it because there's a knock on the door. you step away from him, going back to sweeping the room just as his mom comes in with a tray of food in her hands, and touya lets out a yell of happiness.

she teases him about his unfinished math homework before she leaves, and you try to ignore the smell of miso and fish his mom made for him. when was the last time you ate? was it yesterday or the other day? you couldn't remember.

"d'you want some?" touya asks when he hears your tummy grumble embarrassingly loud. but you decline. "no, it's okay. your mom made those for you."

"she made too much though, and i don't want it to go to waste."

liar. you've seen him eat, he could eat two servings of what he had now and still ask for dessert. but you keep quiet this time, putting down the broom and accepting todoroki's invitation when he pats the spot next to him.

"haven't you eaten lunch yet?" he asks, and you quietly shake your head as he lends you his chopsticks.

"well, why not?"

"i don't know how to cook."

"doesn't your mom cook for you?"

"she does, but she's in the hospital."

touya tries to think of the past week and realizes he hasn't seen her around, not even heard her voice to call you from another room. so he asks, "is she going to be okay?"

"maybe? the nice doctor said she'll be fine." you reply. touya only nods.

he slips two rice balls in your bag just before you leave that day, telling you to give one to your mom when she gets back from the hospital.

"oh! and tell her i said hi."

he keeps slipping you rice balls after that because you never got to tell her he said hi, and you never got to tell her goodbye, either.

eleven.

there are sniffles coming from touya's room.

the sniffles make you pause mid-polish of a large and empty vase in the hallway, and you've been awkwardly standing in front of his door for a good six minutes now, unsure what to do. should you go get his parents? no, that would make it seem like you were eavesdropping on their son. should you knock? yeah, knocking seemed like a good choice.

so you do; three soft knocks on his door, and suddenly the sniffles stop.

"touya?" you call out, knocking again. "it's me."

there's a moment of silence before the door hesitantly cracks open. he doesn't open it all the way at first, one eye peeking out to make sure it really was you. the door opens fully this time, and you're confused when he peers around the empty hallway, eyes lingering to make sure no one was there, before yanking you inside, arms wrapping around your waist and his head tucking into the crook of your neck.

"touya, what are you—"

"please stay with me," came his little squeak, followed by more sniffles and his body wracking from his ragged breaths. an arm wraps around his torso, the other one cradling the back of his head as you shushed him and reassured him, slowly rocking both your bodies back and forth.

"do you want to talk about it?" you ask quietly, and touya shakes his head, burrowing deeper into you.

you nod. "it's okay, you don't have to."

your words were calm and reassuring but internally you were panicking. all the hairs on your body stood on its end because there was this... smell, one that you could only compare to a mixture of butane and a burning dumpster.

burning skin, your brain horrifically corrected, and every fibre of your being was screaming at you to get the hell out of there.

but then you realize where the smell is coming from, and its only when you lean back do you realize touya's arms were red and raw. how the hell did you not see that before?

"your arms—"

"i know," he cuts you off, voice nasally and choked up. "i don't want to talk about it. you said we didn't have to talk about it."

you sigh, gently coaxing him from where he was still buried in the crook of your neck, and his grip on you only tightens. "i'm not leaving, i promise." your hand begins to rub reassuring circles on his back. "i just want you to look at me."

when you coax him out again, he obliges, but still doesn't look at you. so you do the first thing that came to mind— a habit learned from a hazy memory of your mother.

fingers gently grasped the bottom of his chin, gently lifting up his gaze before soft lips place a small kiss on his forehead. he freezes at first, but he gradually melts into your gentle touch, once again burrowing his face into the crook of your neck as you whispered small reassurances into his ear.

the following day, touya's eyes were a little dimmer and he wore nothing but long sleeved shirts.

fourteen.

When you first came to work on a random Tuesday afternoon, the entire Todoroki estate was quiet. This was normal. They were a family who spoke to each other quietly, never raising their voice or making a ruckus (except for Endeavor). What wasn’t normal, however, was the somber mood that seemed to loom the entire house as a woman with white hair and red streaks— the eldest Todoroki sister, you remember— wordlessly gave you your list of chores for the day before locking herself in her room.

The atmosphere made you uncomfortable. It didn’t help that Touya didn’t even attempt to bother you the entire day either, but you didn’t think much of it. He was probably doing his homework in the study or training somewhere else.

So it came as a surprise to you when, just as you were walking through the park on your way back home, the smell of burnt flesh reached your nose once again and all the hair in your body stood up. Your instincts screamed at you to run, something you undoubtedly would’ve done had a hand not shot out from underneath the bushes and tripped you, forcing you to fall on the ground and meet two familiar turquoise eyes— hidden in the shrubbery— staring into your own.

After getting over your initial shock you took Touya back to the house your mother had left behind. Normally you wouldn’t be allowed to keep a house if you were underage, but lucky for you things the government mixed up your files and you were allowed to inherit it with no next of kin or legal guardians. The house fell to your name, and it was all you had left.

“I- Touya, I don’t know what to do.” You panicked, staring at the angry red flesh on his arms and upper torso. He was lying down on your tiny kitchen table, shirtless and pants charred. Your cleaning gloves did little to hide the shake of your hands, the visual of him in pain and surrounded by bloodied rags. “I can’t treat you. We need to call the hospital—”

“Don’t.” He rasped weakly, breathing heavy. You noticed that the underside of his eyes were burnt as well. Didn’t it hurt him to blink? “You can’t.”

“Why not?!”

“My family thinks I’m dead.”

sixteen.

Around spring, you finally had the guts to resign from your job at the Todoroki household and pursue another one. It wasn’t anything big— just a small waitressing job at a curry restaurant a couple blocks away from your neighborhood. Still, the pay was okay and you didn’t have to watch a family mourn the loss of a son you were secretly harboring.

You weren’t sure exactly what prompted you to let him stay. He told you a little bit of his life— why he did what he did, and though you sympathized with him fully was it really right for you to keep him around?

Maybe it was the feeling of being indebted to him every time you pretended not to see him slip an extra cup of rice or an extra bowl of soup into your take home meals. Maybe it was the feeling of being thankful when he secretly lent you books so you could improve your skills on reading and writing. Maybe it was the feeling of guilt from not making him tell you what was bothering him on the day you heard him crying, convinced that if you had then you wouldn’t be here now. You weren’t sure— but you were glad you let him stay.

“Hey, I’m home.” You called out tiredly, dumping your keys in your bag. A puff of white hair peaked out from behind the couch, and you couldn’t help the amusement in your eyes as you stared at Touya.

“Got another piercing, I see.” You mused as you set down the bag of curry on the diningroom table. Touya didn’t reply as he silently extinguished his cigarette and helped you set the table.

Ever since the day he faked his own death, he’s been... different, to say the least, and you weren’t surprised at all.

He’s been more closed off, more quiet. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t like being a “jobless deadbeat” (his words, not yours) while you worked your ass off to support the two of you; or if it was because he wasn’t used to living “the poor life” (again, his words not yours) compared to his previous life of luxury.

You didn’t have much to offer; just an old but well-kept house that's seen better days, a large futon you and your mother shared, and a life living paycheck to paycheck and buried in debt while he busied himself with chores and whatever he could do around the small house.

Three meals a day wasn’t guaranteed with your budget so you had to cut it down to two a day at most. And even then, there’d be times you’d only eat once. Meals were usually composed of either canned food, instant noodles, leftovers, or raw ingredients that were close to going bad. Touya had never had anything that wasn’t fresh or organic, and the first few weeks were a struggle for his stomach to adjust. But with how he first came to you, his delicate stomach was the least of his problems.

The burns on his skin weren’t treated properly thanks to your limited medical knowledge. You had to keep them bandaged the first couple months he’d stayed with you, and since you couldn’t afford both painkillers and clean bandages at the same time, there was nothing to numb Touya to the pain. Fortunately, he healed just fine. Yet he refused to take off the bandages and let you see the dark purple marks where his tan skin used to be.

You knew it still hurt him to move but you also knew that if you tried to stop him he’d only throw a fit. Doing chores around the house and keeping things clean was, according to him, the least he could do to help. He didn’t clean as well as someone who does it for a living, but his efforts to keep your shared home tidy didn’t go unappreciated. He was fairly okay at cooking simple things that only needed frying or boiling— nothing too complex since he’s never really had a need to cook for himself, much less for another person. Housework was his way of saying thank you, and you weren’t about to take it away from him.

“I don’t understand how you always come home with two curry bowls.” Touya finally speaks, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts. “Thought the restaurant only let you have one free take away per day. Do you buy me this shit every night?”

“Yeah, sure, I can definitely do that with my salary.” You replied. “Nah. Luckily one of the line cooks has a thing for me and doesn’t mind slipping me an extra meal. He thinks I have it for breakfast in the morning.”

He scoffs but doesn’t reply.

seventeen.

“Help me dye my hair black,” was the first thing he said when you asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday. You had a little bit of money set aside for a present. Nothing too expensive or grand, but just enough that you could actually afford something out of your tightly monitored expenses— monitored by none other than your roommate— that wasn’t cup noodles.

You didn’t hesitate to run to the nearest drugstore to buy cheap black dye and help him with his hair. Black water trickled down the drain as you held the shower head over his hair.

“What’s it look like, doll?” He asked.

“You look like a really ugly wet dog.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who grinded on me like a bitch in heat last night.”

You chuckled. Well, you couldn’t argue with that.

He stopped wearing his bandages months ago. It was a miracle that you found an under the table doctor who agreed to help patch him up for a reasonable price. You already computed everything— the operation that involved putting staples around his arms, face and torso was cheaper than buying fresh bandages every damn day. It’d take the better part of at least three years to pay off, but seeing him grow to embrace the silver studs on his burnt body the way he embraced his beloved ear piercings made you smile.

He’s been starting to go out of the house, too. He doesn’t tell you where he goes— not that he had to— but you were glad he stopped cooping himself up inside.

“You look good, Tou- sorry, Dabi.” You murmured.

His hands were gripping the sides of the tub as you continued to wash the excess dye from his hair, and you pretend not to notice the familiar smell of burnt flesh sticking to his jacket despite the fact that you knew his burns were already healed. You also pretend not to notice the new clothes he wore that definitely weren’t in his closet this morning.

“You look good.”

nineteen.

Dabi only got rougher from there.

He became more crude in the way he spoke, and sometimes he’d disappear for days on end without a single word. You got nervous the first few times he did it, scolding him and telling him to never make you worry like that ever again (he still did).

He’d roll his eyes and yell at you to back off, he wasn’t your boyfriend, stop being so damn clingy. You hated those fights the most. They usually ended with Dabi sleeping on the couch or storming out, and you angry crying yourself to sleep at night. The only thing that brought you comfort was that he always came back.

“I’m heading out, don’t wait up for me.” He spoke, putting on his coat.

“Are you going to come back within the week?”

“I don’t know.”

You sighed. “Okay. Take care.”

It’d be hypocriticial to say his secrets bothered you because he wasn’t the only one with secrets. Even with your promotion at the restaurant, even with you working overtime and taking extra shifts to the point that you barely got any sleep, money was still tight. Bills were getting steeper, banks were demanding money from your debts, and groceries were getting more expensive.

It was the line cook that kept flirting with you that introduced you to the scene of underground poker. He was a gambler and decided to take you to one of his games in an attempt to impress you (not knowing about your live in not-boyfriend). He won every game that night and started taking you to all his matches, saying he always played better when he was with you. Even called you his “lucky ace.” You only rolled your eyes but let him show you off so long as he kept slipping you extra dinner every night. That was, until, you learned the ropes and became a gambler yourself and quickly made a name in the underground scene.

Dabi wasn’t dumb. He knew that the money you magically found to pay off his operation from two years ago as well as your debt to the hospital that treated your mother wasn’t from your savings. He knew that the fresh meat and vegetables you started buying from the market weren’t there because the grocer had a sale. And he damn well knew that you secretly quit your job at the restaurant even though you acted like you were still employed, even going as far as putting on your old uniform whenever you left for “work.”

And yet, just like you never questioned where he suddenly got the money to contribute to the household, he never questioned where you got yours.

twenty-one.

It was around your second year of being a professional underground poker player did your secret get revealed to Dabi. You were too careless. The sudden transfer to a “restaurant branch” in the city. The expensive clothes and unexplained budget for much needed home renovations. The appearance of painkillers and anti-irritation ointment (that he definitely didn’t buy) in his bedside drawer. The stash of card decks— clearly only used once at most— that you hid in a duffel bag in your closet.

Dabi didn’t comment on these.

He did, however, comment on the elegenat white and gold invitation to a professional poker match set for this Friday evening, addressed to an infamous masked player who had a record of never losing a single match. How could he not comment on it when you so generously left it out in the open.

“I knew you were up to some gambling but I didn’t expect you to be the infamous Lucky Ace.” He mused one night, holding the prestigious cardboard between his fingertips. He was sure if he tried to sell the invitation he’d get some money for it— he knows what real gold feels like when he touches it. “Never thought it’d be you. They say Lucky Ace’s Quirk is luck. The manipulation of probabilities, both of others and your own.”

You merely chuckled in amusement. You weren’t blessed with the Quirk of luck— you just happened to be a skilled gambler.

“I’ve had a lot of offers for your head.”

“And I’ve had a lot competition who turned up dead and burnt to a crisp before my matches.” You replied. “Thanks for that, by the way. I haven’t received a single paycheck in weeks.”

Ah, that too. Dabi was also getting careless. You definitely knew he was a kill for hire, and you definitely knew he was employed under another professional poker player who wanted to get to the top the easy way. You had a feeling he’s been the cause for your competitors sudden disappearances, and the unexplained duffel bags full of cash that sat next to yours didn’t help.

“Looks like we’ve both been careless.” He lazily threw the invitation to you. “Do me a favor— lose your match with Black Jack tomorrow, will ya? Now that I know who Lucky Ace is, boss won’t be happy that I let you live.”

You scoff. “You want me to lose to a guy who’s initials spell out blowjob? The hell do you take me for?”

Normally he loved your sharp tongue and crude jokes, but right now it wasn’t helping. The bounty on Lucky Ace’s head was too big to pass up, and if you won against Black Jack— his boss— tomorrow then the prize would only double. He wouldn’t be the only one out for your head by then.

He sighed, raising up one hand to show you the spark of blue flames. Intimidate you. He was trying to intimidate you. Or warn you— you didn’t fucking know.

But you merely smirked. “Wanna fuck?”

His eye twitched, and he pondered it for a few seconds. Groaning, he extinguished the flame.

“You’re lucky you’re a good lay.”

twenty-two.

It was in the afterglow of sex that words unspoken revealed themselves.

Well, sort of.

Two sweaty bodies, panting next to each other. The smell of cigarettes and hormones thick in the air. The feeling of lips placing a kiss to your forehead as you wrapped the sheets around your torso, turning as you looked at the man beside you.

“What would you do if you found out I was secretly dating that line cook you hated so much?” You asked. His arm lazily wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you closer, your head resting on his chest. Dabi took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling, thinking it through. You took the stick from his hand and took a drag of your own.

“Damn, that’s good.” You murmured. “Not even reds can beat seven stars.”

He took the cigarette back from you and flicked off the ashes on the tray next to the bed.

“If you were dating what’s-his-name but still ask me to fuck you at least twice a week then he’s gotta be a virgin or some shit.” He finally replies. “That, or the poor guy’s dick isn’t enough to satiate you.”

“So... you’d be okay with it?”

“Does it matter? I’m not your boyfriend.”

“You could be, y’know.” You murmured, tracing your finger against his collarbone. “My boyfriend— I mean.”

“Sorry, doll. M’not interested in being your mistress.”

You clicked your tongue. “I’m not dating him, you dumbass. It was a hypothetical question.”

That was the closest you and Dabi ever got to a confession. That was the closest you ever got to asking him out after years of sexual tension that turned out to be romantic.

And the little kisses you peppered across his callous knuckles was the closest you ever got to saying “I love you.”

Fortunately, Dabi didn’t reject you or push you away. Instead he stayed the night cuddled up to you, holding your hand and waiting for you to fall asleep before slipping out of your hold and disappearing in the middle of the night for a job, just like he always did.

That was the closest he ever got to saying “I love you too.”

twnety-three.

Dabi doesn’t like telling you shit.

At least, not when you’re awake. He did, however, have a lot of silent conversations with you when you’re asleep. His trips home became fewer and further in between, and every time he stayed he’d only stay the night or for three days at most. You tried to ask him about it once but he was always vague with his answers.

He tells you he doesn’t care, and you tell him you don’t either. He pretends not to notice when you buy the expensive brand of miso broth with your own money because you knew it was the one thing he missed from his old life. You pretend not to notice the fresh cup of tea and warm bento boxes that you wake up to whenever he leaves after his rare visits.

He doesn’t talk that much about his feelings— not out loud. But he does find himself pulling your sleeping form, clad in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts, closer to him at night. He finds his arm tightening around your waist and his nose burying itself in the back of your neck to inhale the scent that was unmistakably you, trying to remember it always.

I have to leave you again. He thinks to himself, staring at your peaceful face. I’m not sure if I’m coming back this time.

An invite had been extended to him— from a group that called themselves the League of Villains. It sounded pretentious, he wasn’t even going to lie, but they were aligned enough in terms of ideals that he didn't immediately tell them to fuck off. Still, there was no denying that they were a dangerous bunch. Your not-so-secret lifestyles were separate and there was a mutual unspoken rule that you wouldn’t involve the other.

Unlike your secret job, though, that involved you getting dressed in branded clothes and adorning fancy rings and expensive watches; that involved luxurious invitations to secret upscale poker games; that involved a black sedan that seemed to change number plates every time he saw it pull up to the front of the house to pick you up and drop you off; his job was much more dangerous. He worked with dangerous people, doing dangerous things, playing with dangerous ideals.

He already knew— despite your denial— that your Quirk was definitely luck. Too many things that could be brushed off as coincidence had luckily fallen into your lap. Too many coincidences was no longer a coincidence.

It was your Quirk protecting you, not him, when he kisses your forehead and slips out of your hold for what would be the last time to keep you from harm. At least that’s what he tells himself as gathers his clothes and belongings from around the house, trying to make it look like he was never there. He was a dangerous criminal— a villain now, and he’d be damned if he dragged you into his mess.

He takes one last look at you asleep on your shared futon, trying to burn the image to his mind so he never forgets. He wasn’t going to bring anything that could be traced back to you. He already blocked your contact and deleted all the photos he had of you on his phone, all the messages and call logs too. He’s already done the same process to your phone since you never changed your passcode.

Not a trace of you in his life and not a trace of him in yours, he tells himself as he eyes the shirt you wore. It was his. You could keep it, he guesses. He could just strip you down and get on with life, but he couldn’t do it without waking you up and messing up his plans. At least, that’s what he tries to convince himself as he walks away.

He’s got his coat on now and he left you a little bit of cash just in case. Not that you needed it, of course. You were a professional gambler who made more bank than he did. A black duffel bag’s slung over his shoulder that had all his stuff, and he’s giving the small house he called home one last once over to make sure there was never any indication that he was in your life. Will you hate him for leaving? He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care if you forgive him or not. This was to keep you safe. This was for the best.

He admires you for the last time as he slides the door open, sighing as he finally admits his feelings— for the first and last time— into the dark of the night.

“I love you, doll.”

And he pretends not to hear the faint whisper behind him when he closes the door.

“I love you too, Dabi.”

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #writing

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wordy-little-witch · 2 months

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I am also on the buggy-isnt-actually-human agenda 👀 also i cant believe i never thought if boabuggy mean girl squad bc ur so right (im gonna ignore the fact that canon buggy most likely isnt immune to her since he never once showed interest in alvida) which now brings me to: mean gurls boabuggyalvida 😌🧚‍♀️✨

YESSSSS THANK YOU ILY I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS

I actually have an ongoing fic with Buggy as non-human and him and Shanks being brothers and just- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa BRAINROT OKAY

My favorite concept is making Buggy a type of faery. My fic specifically has him as a Harlequinn, solely bc it FIT and I am feral for clown/jesters/etc. I can go into detail if you want, but I don't wanna clog this one

But like.

Buggy is the ONLY person in One Piece with a nose like his. He's hyperaware of that, and it's his biggest visible insecurity. He loves shiny things, treasures, gold, etc. His luck stats are either MAXED OUT or in the NEGATIVES. He is so good at manipulating people ((silver tongue)), and his specialty is smoke and mirrors, enthralling the masses, and he only gets involved when either A) he HAS to, or B) he has reason to protect/claim something. He's an observer most of the time, and he facilitates observation in others as well. And don't get me started by the lure and draw he gives to others to his space, his territory, full of Power, Fortune, Whimsy and Joy. Gods. He's so fascinating I wanna study him under a microscope, wanna put him in Situations ♡♡♡

MOVING ALONG~

Boa+Buggy+Alvida hours

The only thing I think might be rocky is Alvida and Hancock butting heads over beauty, but honestly? I think once they warm up to each other, Hancock would actually be really relieved to not be called the cutest or hottest in the room. I also think the three would be each other's biggest hype sources ((but also refreshingly, brutally honest)).

Personally? I think Buggy might actually be immune to Hancock. When he saw Alvida, he had a passing thought of "Oh, pretty, anyway-" so maybe in Canon he'd also become stone but imagine how funny it out be if she tried stoning him, it didn't work OR he split apart and it only worked a little. Now she is BAMBOOZLED.

Like.... "why didn't this work? What are you, clown? Explain yourself!!"

"..... I mean. You're cute, I guess???? But girl that lip tint is not your palette-"

"What-"

"Here, try this one, I stole it like this morning, it's unopened-"

"Oh that is nice-"

And with that a friendship was born!!

Or alternatively

"Why didn't you turn to stone?"

"Hancock.... I'm gay."

"..."

"And also a bottom."

"......"

"You don'treally seem like a top, but... i mean, you're still pretty though????"

".................."

"OhSeasShe'sGonnaKillMe-"

"Did we just become friends?"

"*surprised clown noises*"

ANYWAY

Yes BoaBuggyVida mean girls bestie squad. Only thing to make it better is including Perona and/or Uta bc I feel like that would be. So much fun.

Also it changes the subtext in the Cross Guild situation a tad, bc Mihawk knows Buggy and Boa get on like a house on fire, he knows Shanks waxes poetic about the clown, and he is so confused bc the math isn't mathing, is he missing something?? Are the others just THAT delusional??? What is the truth?????

But yeah I have so many Boa+Buggy+Vida concepts and it is. So much. All the brainrot. I love the dumb little clown dude and his army of simps and girlboss besties

#Boa+Buggy+Vida #buggy is my baby #thank you for the ask ilysm #one piece #buggy the clown #buggy d. clown #warlords of the sea #buggy headcanons #buggy is not human and i'll die on this hill

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months

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Hello dear! It's been a long time :)

I've read some of your Mandela Catalog fanfics and they are amazing!

I would like to make a request, how about the Reader (who was a friend of the Murray's and took care of Adam after the divorce as Lynn didn't have much time to spend with him) take custody of him after his parents died?

Adam at least grew up with someone :) and the Reader always sang songs when he got sad about his parents...

But the events are the same as the Mandela Catalog (Volume 1 and 2 etc.)

In the meantime, the Reader ends up dying for an Alternative, after months of the Reader's death, the events of volume 2 happen and then the events of Mandela Catalyst happen.

Basically, Thatcher finds Adam singing one of the songs that the Reader sang to him to calm him down, but since it's not the Reader singing...he can't calm down at all .

Just Angst in general...sorry :)

Oh boy this one hurt a LOT to write. Strap in and be ready for (several) different timeskips (and a whole lot of angst)

.........

--September 1992--

"Hey, [y/n]. I'm so sorry to bother you, but-"

"It's okay. What's up? Do you need me to watch him for a bit?"

"...I actually needed to talk to you about something important, but he hasn't stopped crying, and...shit...I-I just need a little bit of help if that's alright. I can't calm him down."

Hearing Lynn's exhausted sigh over the phone, you frowned slightly. It especially pained your heart to hear her son's wailing in the background, yet you realized she called you around this specific hour last time..with the exact same problem.

It was strange, honestly.

You would've thought she'd figured out what was going on with Adam by now.

"Wasn't Jude there earlier? Don't tell me he bailed and that's why he's-"

"No. He actually showed up this time and watched him while I was in a meeting. Everything was fine..a-and Adam didn't make any fuss when he left. But now he just started up the waterworks again and...god, I don't know what to do anymore.."

"Well you tell the little guy to hang tight, okay?" You reassured her as you grabbed your keys, jacket, and shoes. "I'm on my way over."

"Thank you so much, [y/n]..I'm sorry about this-"

"Don't be. It's not your fault. I'll see you in a few."

"Alright, see you soon."

After hanging up the phone, you headed out the door and got into your vehicle, driving to the Murray's residence.

You've been close friends with Jude and Lynn, having supported them through nearly every milestone of their relationship: when they had their son, when they got married, and....when they unfortunately went through a divorce two years later.

To this day, you still weren't sure what caused their relationship to crash and burn. They were highschool sweethearts who hoped to move into the big city and have kids--the kind of dream any couple would wanna live out.

But then they became incredibly stressed over raising just one child alone, and thought rushing into marriage would resolve things quickly.

Instead, it only caused more friction between them.

Regardless, you still wanted to help them out. So you've offered to watch Adam for a few hours while Lynn went to work, or if she just needed to get out of the house and take a breather.

He's a good kid...aside from being either quiet or having huge crying fits with consistent patterns to them. You suspected he saw something scary and violent on television once and hasn't recovered since.

Lynn mentioned a toddler stress assessment he took, showing his scores ranging from low to zero, indicating he didn't respond to the stimuli properly. She would have been more concerned if other children his age didn't share similar results, all apparently due to them being witnesses to a "phenomena".

Whatever it was, it must've been traumatic enough for him to have these meltdowns seemingly out of the blue.

But you always succeeded at calming him down. Lynn mom had yet to see your methods, though she's convinced you're some kind of "miracle worker", doing a better job at parenting than she or Jude could.

Fortunately, she was going to find out today.

You arrived at the house, exchanging sympathetic smiles with the exhausted mother before she led you to Adam's room. There, he was in the corner bawling his eyes out.

"Adam, sweetie? Someone's here to see you." She cooed, but to no avail as he didn't even look up at her. Sighing in defeat, she stepped aside when you reassured her you'll handle it.

"Hey, buddy. It's me again." You spoke softly, kneeling down on the floor in front of Adam. For a moment, he fell silent and glanced up at you, hiccupping on occasion.

But when you opened your arms up to him, he started crying even louder and clung to you tightly. "Oh it's okay, kiddo. Shhh, I'm here." You hushed, holding him as you stood back up. "[Y/n]'s here now."

He could only blubber your name in response, snot and tears dribbling down his face as he nuzzled into your shoulder. You rubbed his back, wishing you could take away whatever made him this upset.

Since that wasn't possible, you did the only thing you could do in that moment.

And that was sing.

More specifically, sing a song you heard on the radio earlier today. It's one of your favorites, which always helps you calm down after a stressful day; surely it'll help Adam in his case, too.

Although your voice was soft and quiet, it managed to reach his ears as you sang to him, and eventually it worked its magic. His sobs died into sniffles, and then sniffles into silence.

You smiled. "Did you like that one? That's one of my favorites."

He nodded, now resting his head on your shoulder and closing his puffy eyes as you kept rubbing his back, humming softly. Before you knew it, he was fast asleep.

"....are you serious? I've tried singing to him and it does nothing!" Lynn whispered, astonished you were able to resolve that in a minute, when usually it took her an hour.

"Sorry, I guess he likes my voice better." You chuckled lightly, before your eyes shifted around the room. "Where do you want him? The crib as usual?"

"...as usual. I know he's supposed to be grown out of it, but he refuses to sleep anywhere else."

"It'll happen eventually, I'm sure." You set Adam down, making sure the pillow was comfortably underneath his head. Then you turned back to Lynn. "So...you wanted to talk about something?"

"It's..on the kitchen table." She muttered, confusing you as she turned and walked out the room.

You followed her to the aforementioned section of the house, noticing documents on the table. One mentioned child custody, which was signed by her and Jude...but also had a third blank line on it as well.

"Jude and I had a long talk, and...we both decided that if, god forbid, anything should happen to us and we can't be here to take care of Adam...we'd make you his legal guardian." She explained. "I know it's a lot to ask of you right now and I doubt we'll even need this, but-"

"I'll sign it."

She blinked. "R-Really? I mean..there's no rush. If you need time to think about it-"

"My mind's been made up. With those broadcasts having everyone on edge, it's better to be safe than sorry. But I hope it won't come to that." You picked up the pen, clicking it as you sat down to read the document. "I just sign here? Do I have to go to the court?"

"No, you can just sign it and I'll bring it to them tomorrow." She swallowed the lump in her throat, choking back tears of relief. "I-I just want Adam to grow up in a better place and..we trust that you can do that should it be necessary."

Nodding in understanding, you signed the paper, slipping it back into the folder before you gave Lynn a hug. "If this helps you guys out, then it's fine with me. Does Adam know?"

"W-We're gonna tell him about it, soon. But..thank you so, so much, [y/n]. This means a lot to us."

"Of course, I'm here for you and him till the very end."

--One Week Later--

"Lynn? Are you alright? I was driving by and noticed your door was wide open."

"......"

"Lynn? Jude? You guys here?"

"........"

"....Adam?"

"........"

"Anybody home at all? Hello?"

"........."

"C'mon, this isn't.....wha....o-oh my god. LYNN!! No, no, no, no, no!! What the fuck?!! Why would you...y-you....?! Oh Christ, I'm gonna be sick....I need to call 911-"

"[Y/n]? Where's momma...?"

"A-Adam! Don't go in there. Thank god you're okay, but wha...what are you doing out here by yourself??"

"...looking for my new friend."

"Huh? But..sweetheart, there's no one here but us."

"Not even momma?"

"N-No. She's..gone away for a while. And dad, too. But do you remember that talk we had about me looking after you?"

"Mhm."

"Well, that...starts now. I'll be taking care of you for a little while, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good, good..now let's go home."

--January 2002--

It's been 10 years since the worst night of your life, as well as Adam's.

You lost two of your best friends, and he lost his family.

The sight of Lynn's hanging corpse was forever burned into your mind, and you were still unsure of Jude's whereabouts to this very day. He was never found by the police..although you felt like they were too scared to investigate further and give victims like yourself the proper justice.

Nevertheless, you had a promise to keep. And so you've done your best to raise Adam as his legal guardian. Signing those documents all those years ago certainly streamlined the process of you gaining custody over him, and he didn't protest over it.

You never did tell him what actually happened that night. You don't think you'll ever be able to.

All you said was that you found him alone in that house and took him with you, clueless as to where his parents are. It was only partially a lie, yet you still felt guilty.

You tried giving him a normal life away from Mandela County, as it was simply too dangerous to live there. He grew out of the unusual behavioral patterns of his toddler years, thank goodness, and continued being a generally good kid.

In school, he took up a hobby in filmmaking, while also gaining interest in ghost-hunting shows and other subjects related to paranormal activity, including online forums discussing Alternates.

Although concerned about this interest he's been pursuing, you supported his passions.

After turning 14, he reached that "teen angst" state of his life where he was going through lots of changes and constantly flipping moods like a light switch.

And when you picked him up from school today, that bad attitude reared its ugly head for you to see.

He didn't greet you after getting in the car, keeping his headphones on as he stared outside the window, seething red. You did notice a small group of jocks, one of whom seemed to have a nosebleed while the rest scowled at your son, only to see you were staring at them too. They quickly scampered back onto the campus grounds.

But what you didn't notice was Adam rolling down his sleeves to hide his bruised knuckles.

As soon as you both got home, he threw his backpack onto the nearest table and stormed off to his room without speaking a single word to you.

Now any other parent wouldn't have tolerated his disrespect. But rather than chastise him when you knew he was already feeling shitty, you calmly walked towards his bedroom door.

It was partially open, though you gently knocked just to be polite. "Hey, kid..may I come in?"

"....sure. Whatever."

You pushed the door open more, entering to find Adam curled up on his bed, staring down at his music player as he shuffled through some songs. "Glad to see you're using the MP3 I got you for Christmas."

He didn't respond to that, instead burying his face into his knees and keeping his hood drawn over his head.

You sat beside him, knowing that you'd have to choose your next words very carefully from here on out. 'Wish there was some guidebook on caring for a grumpy teenage boy..but I'll have to figure this one out myself..'

"So..what're you listening to?" You asked, hoping to start up some kind of conversation.

"...if you care so much..it's Radiohead." His voice was slightly muffled, but you understood him as your eyes lit up.

"Oh! I love that band."

"You do?"

"Of course! You think I'm too old to enjoy it?" You feigned hurt, although when you heard him sniffle quietly, you sighed and rested a hand on his back. "Look, I noticed those kids staring when I picked you up. They look like the same jerks I used to meet in school. Did...they say anything to you?"

For a few long moments, he was silent, but eventually answered.

"They called me an orphan, so I punched one of them."

Your heart sunk. "Wha--Adam, you gotta be more careful. You could've gotten hurt or expelled-"

"So what? I'm supposed to just take it?" He glared up at you, his eyes red and watery. "I can't defend myself?"

"...that's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that there's other ways we can deal with them without violence. But I agree that what they said was wrong." Frowning, you gently brushed his curly bangs to the side. "They shouldn't be using orphan as an insult."

"Yeah. They think both my parents are dead, but they're liars. My mom's still out there, and if she comes back we can prove them wrong."

Ah.

You could feel this familiar conversation starting up again, but this time you weren't sure if Adam was going to be placated by your answer anymore. The more he pressed about it, the more he got suspicious and tired of the same excuses.

"....are we ever gonna go back to Mandela and try to find her, [y/n]?"

You shook your head. "I'm sorry, Adam. But you know we can't. I...have no clue where we'd even start."

"Then why doesn't she try to find us, instead? She must have escaped those things by now..unless she gave up on me."

"Wha--" You blinked, having no idea how he could've drawn that conclusion so quickly. "What made you think-?"

"I-I mean..it makes sense, right? It's been ten damn years and she hasn't tried looking for us once?" He started getting agitated, taking off his headphones as they no longer comforted him. "Maybe she wanted me out of her life for good. I mean...I'm the reason her and dad divorced."

"Adam, their divorce wasn't your fault at all. I knew your mom for a long time, and she loved you a lot-"

"Then why does it feel like she abandoned me?!!" He snapped, throwing his music devices onto the mattress before scowling at you. "Just tell me the truth, [y/n]!! I can take it. If she said I was a burden, then fucking TELL ME!!"

You took your hand off his back the moment he started shouting, feeling yourself tensing up.

The one thing you hoped not to do was make him angry, and yet here he was...lashing out. But you tried not to take it too personally and stayed quiet.

Not long after his explosion, Adam saw the look on your face and instantly felt remorseful for snapping like that. His face began burning with embarrassment as he looked away, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

"..I'm sorry, I...I just-"

"I know you didn't mean it. It's alright." You carefully wrapped your arm around him, bringing him closer to you. "But you were never a burden to her. That's the truth. She loved you and wanted you to have a better life..one that she couldn't provide. I know you don't understand everything right now, but one day it's all gonna make sense. I can promise you that, son."

He sniffled and tucked his face between your neck and shoulder, trying to stifle his sobs as he mumbled about still missing her so badly. You held him even closer, feeling the poor kid shaking in your arms.

Luckily, you knew exactly how to remedy this situation.

"Adam?"

"Y..yeah?"

"...do you want me to sing to you like I did before? I know you got your music player, but..my voice might help you feel a little better."

For a moment he was quiet, but you felt him nod against your neck. You smiled and kissed the top of his hood, before quietly singing one of his favorite songs:

"Such a pretty house, and such a pretty garden. No alarms and no surprises. No alarms and no surprises...."

He closed his eyes as he listened to your soft voice, tears dampening the collar of your shirt. He felt like he did nothing to deserve you or all of this love after the way he acted earlier.

You could've left him alone, or got angry right back at him.

But you didn't.

You never stopped being there for him.

After Adam calmed down a few minutes later, you let him go and saw him wipe at his face with his sleeve. While still embarrassed to be seen like this, he did feel a lot better. "Y-You...still got it." He chuckled. "You ever think about becoming a singer? Like in a band or something?"

"In my dreams, yeah. But I told ya I'm a big Radiohead fan." You smirked.

"Alright, alright..I guess you're not too "old" to like it." He rolled his eyes, but eventually leaned back onto your shoulder, relaxing. "Thanks again, [y/n]. I-I..really needed that."

"Anytime." You gently hugged him to you. "I'm here whenever you need me, son. I promise we'll go back to Mandela when it's safer."

"Together?"

"Together."

--September 2008--

You couldn't believe it.

You couldn't.

Fucking.

Believe it.

Adam went behind your back and did exactly what you told him not to do.

He left for to Mandela County in the middle of the night, taking a stolen car. Although he did leave you a note saying he was going on a "BPS mission" with Jonah and promised to be back in several days, you were still quite infuriated.

Especially since you've been meaning to talk to him about this little "group" of his.

All this time, you thought it was just some afterschool club he attended that helped him make friends and even find a girlfriend. He told you all they did was chat about ghosts and research paranormal stuff and nothing more.

But he's been using it as a cover-up to hunt down the Alternates who ruined so many lives, breaking several laws while doing so.

You only learned about all this through Evelin, who called your cell phone just a few minutes ago. The poor girl was in tears, explaining that she and Adam had a huge fight, and apparently he told her some....very hurtful things.

Things you'd never believe would come out of your son's mouth.

You didn't raise him this way at all.

You raised him to be a better person, not a rebel who thinks he can talk to girls with such disrespect and run away from home.

Why would he do this all of the sudden?

Did he just get too impatient?

Did he not trust you anymore?

What ever happened to the promise that you'll go to Mandela together?

Regardless, you apologized to Evelin for Adam's behavior before hanging up. Then you called his number, and he surprisingly answered within the first ring.

Usually it took three.

"Hey, [y/n]. What's up?"

""What's up?"" You mimicked, already growing annoyed. ""What's up" is that your girlfriend called me and said you insulted her. All because she didn't like these little "ghost hunts" you've been doing??"

"Oh fuck, did she really tell you about all our problems?" He groaned. "Look, I'm not the bad guy here. I swear. We had a petty argument and she freaked out on ME, and then I got a little defensive. That's all."

"...a "little"? You made her cry, Adam. I had to help her calm down before she could even talk to me."

"....well it's not my fault if she's too damn sensitive."

You couldn't believe how heartless he sounded, but you didn't wanna stay on this topic forever.

So you sighed, sitting down on the sofa as you wondered how you can convince him to stop these ridiculous "hunts". "Listen, son. I just think this is consuming your life too much-"

"But this IS my life, [y/n]! Jonah and I have been making some serious bank from this! Believe it or not, paranormal investigating IS a real job-"

"But it's not a safe one." You interrupted. "I know how badly you want closure on your mother, but those things won't give you any answers. They're only going to kill you if-"

"I stared at one dead in the face and it didn't attack me."

You froze, feeling your heart drop into your stomach. "...what?"

"Yeah! I found out I'm sorta "immune" to M.A.D or whatever, and I have footage of it!" He bragged. "It didn't hurt me at all. We had a pretty funny staring contest. I can send you proof of it so you don't have to worry about me."

"....I don't want "proof", Adam. I want you to come home."

"....not until I find out the truth for myself." Suddenly his tone turned spiteful. "Unless you know something that I don't."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not a dumb kid anymore, [y/n]. If there's something YOU knew about that night that you didn't wanna tell me before...now's the time."

For a few long moments, you were silent as you thought over his words, although his snarky response made your blood boil even more.

At this point you were fed up you were with him sneaking behind your back like this and breaking his promise. You only sheltered the truth of that night from him for this long because you knew how deeply it would hurt him.

But now he was practically goading you into laying it all out.

Maybe that's what you should do. Just to finally put this to rest and make him give up on these stupid "investigations". He was searching for someone who wasn't even alive anymore.

He may hate you, but if this is what he wanted...it's what he'll get.

"I'm sorry, Adam. But-"

All of the sudden, a loud sound akin to static noise crackled right into your eardrum, causing you to flinch and hold the phone far away from you.

Only then did you notice an unknown caller ID had popped up, the ringtone playing normally. You declined it and tried calling Adam back, but the same mysterious number showed up again before you could even dial anything.

You had no choice but to answer the stranger.

"Hello? Yes?"

"This is no longer your place to spill secrets, I'm afraid." A male's voice, staticky and coarse, droned in your ear. "Only I will reveal everything to our prophet soon enough."

"....your prophet? Who the hell is this?" Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I think you got the wrong number. I don't know any "prophet". Goodbye."

Hanging up, you hoped to put an end to that discussion and reach out to Adam once more-

"Of course you do, [y/n]. He's the son you've taken under your wing."

Every muscle in your body tensed.

The same voice was now inside your own home.

Your eyes searched the living room until you noticed the TV flickering to life, the screen displaying a hooded man with a face that looked as if it were melting.

"How do you know about him?" You scowled. "Don't tell me...you're the creep who kidnapped all those kids back in-"

"You played right into our hands. You've passed our test. I must say you've raised him well..keeping him in the dark about his truth." The Intruder taunted. "But it's time you open your eyes and recognize the favor you've done for us."

"...what favor? What does any of this have to do with Adam?!"

"From the moment you saw that boy's poor mother...he ceased to exist, too. I had taken him only for a moment, and gave you back something you promised to protect. But you've been living a lie, [y/n]. Your "son" was never actually him."

"You mean to tell me he's......?" Your heart dropped into your stomach, realizing what he was implying. But you clenched your fists. "N-No. You're lying."

"You had already failed them before you even realized it." The TV glitched to show the shadow of a certain woman with her neck broken, before displaying an image of the Murray house, before it reverted back to the Intruder's face. "You could've joined them, but we wanted to see how he'd grow under your watchful eye. Now thanks to you, we know we can blend into mankind and watch it rot from the inside out. And soon we'll awaken him, too, and rejoice."

"I don't believe you." You tried keeping your voice steady and calm, knowing he was attempting to inflict M.A.D on you. "If you think he's going to be anything like you freaks...you're dead wrong."

"Oh, but he will. He must. It's his fate."

"If he's one of you, then why would he care for the real Adam's mother like she was his?! And on that note...was hanging her just your little "distraction" so you could-?!"

"You accuse me as if I pulled the rope." He scoffed. "But I didn't. She just lost all hope and faith in finding him. That poor mother, too distraught at the sight of her missing infant---distraught at the sight of her missing infant, missing infant, missing infantmissinginfantMISSINGMISSINGMISSINGMISSINGMISSING...."

His voice suddenly began repeating on a loop, corrupted messages and symbols covering the screen. Through it all, you were still able to make out his haunting gaze and widening grin.

The only way he disappeared was when you grabbed a nearby chair and smashed the glass with it, shattering the screen to pieces. Electric sparks and smoke sputtered out of the TV, but besides that...it was finally silent again.

You huffed and took several steps back.

Yet you had little time to fully process everything he told you as your phone rang again. You hesitantly checked it, only to become relieved at seeing's Adam's number and quickly answered it.

"A-Adam! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, um..are you? What happened? You just hung up on me.." He sounded rather concerned.

"I didn't mean to. S-Something must've disconnected our call.." You scrambled to grab your keys, convinced he was in danger.

'Damnit, I swore I was gonna stay away from Mandela, but if he's still there....and HE knows about him-.'

However before you could get your shoes, you stopped and felt a sudden chill run up your spine.

One that left you with the feeling that you weren't alone anymore.

Your gaze slowly went to the front door, where a tall humanoid figure lurked in the nearest corner. It was overtaken by a huge shadow, although the whites of its elongated eyes were still visible, staring back at you.

Adam's concerned "hellos" on the other end fell on deaf ears as you watched the creature limp out from the darkness, revealing itself to be the most horrifying attempt at human mimicry possible.

The worst part?

It looked just like you.

"I'm here whenever you need me, son." It echoed your voice, stalking towards you and forcing you away from the front door, back into the kitchen area. "Something must've disconnected our call-l-l!"

"Who the hell was that? What's going on?!"

Finally hearing your son again, you swallowed back tears as you shakily reached for a large knife, keeping the phone in a tight grip.

This was it for you.

You've just been a pawn in their plans all along.

The Intruder had intentions to kill you with M.A.D by revealing you've basically raised an Alternate for them, and if that despair alone didn't end your life.....then this beast that somehow got inside your home will surely finish the job.

But screw that. Screw all of them.

You'll fight till your last breath if you must.

Your only regret is leaving Adam all alone when he's already lost so much in his life...but you didn't want him to think you resented him.

"I-I have to go. I'm sorry if I sounded harsh back there. I just want you to make the right choices. But if this BPS stuff makes you happy, then..keep doing what you're doing. Just be careful, okay?"

"Uh, sure. But why are you talking like that, [y/n]??" His voice was growing more worrisome. "Look, I'm sorry. I-I swear I'll come back home soon-"

"Don't worry about me...I'll be okay." You smiled shakily, not taking your eyes off the creature closing in. "Just take care of yourself out there. This world's cruel, but I know you'll kick it in the ass."

"Just wait a damn second! Don't g-!"

"Goodbye, my son. I love you."

You ended the call, dropping the phone to the ground and holding the knife with both hands, finally ready to accept your fate.

The Alternate howled with laughter, before it lunged at you with its claws and jaws wide open.

"GOODBYE-E-E!!!!"

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!!"

"Uh-oh! Bad decision, [y/n]!"

--January 16th, 2009--

Adam staggered through the front door to his home, famished, dehydrated, exhausted....

And burdened with knowledge that made him want to die.

Only a few months ago, you disappeared after that concerning phone conversation you two exchanged. He hasn't heard your voice since, and when he returned to Werksha..you were nowhere to be found.

There was no sign of a break-in, or anything of that sort..but Adam was convinced you were taken just like his mom was--obviously by one of the Alternates.

So he went back to Mandela to continue his investigations alongside Jonah, growing desperate for answers. There had to be at least one who knew what happened to you and where you are.

His obsession with these hunts only worsened, turning him into a crueler person around those who questioned his reasons for "chasing" after Alternates. Evelin did break off the relationship for good, seeing as he was too far gone to even reason with.

He knows you would've been disappointed in him...but surely you'd understand why he'd do this. You understood him better than anyone.

You said it yourself. As long as he was careful, he can do whatever he wanted!

Yet nothing ever turned up.

Until the day he and Jonah agreed to help put a cat's spirit to rest, the "owner" offering them $500 a night if they stayed for three in total...

That investigation ended in a huge argument in which Jonah brought up your name and his mother, setting him off and indirectly causing his best friend's death.

And then he was all alone again, but acted like none of it bothered him and tried to quell BPS' online following with a memorial video.

Days later, the Intruder contacted him on his laptop and unveiled the truth about his existence--the same truth he told you before you died.

"Your skin is not your own."

"You're not the real you."

Those words were drilled into Adam's mind, and he could feel his own body going through an agonizing metamorphosis as he forced himself to drive back to Werksha one last time.

He barely was able to drag himself out of the van and through the front door.

But that's when he was greeted by a grisly sight:

Your rotting corpse slumped against the wall, a bloody knife in your palm and a deep slash wound across your throat, your clothes caked in dried blood.

You were never missing.

You died.

And whatever monster brought you back here decided to present you as some twisted "gift" for him.

Adam collapsed and screamed so loudly that it shattered the lights he turned on, deciding right there that he didn't wanna live this way anymore. He couldn't. He didn't wanna become one of them.

He wanted to join you while he still had his humanity left.

Yet despite all his attempts to end his misery, including using the same knife you used to stab himself and consuming enough bleach cleaner he found under the sink to make him vomit his guts out......nothing was working.

His body didn't fail him like he expected.

He still felt his bones breaking in all the wrong ways, and now his insides fucking burned like an inferno.

Eventually, Adam stopped and instead covered your body with his BPS hoodie, sobbing about how sorry he was for not being here for you, before he managed to crawl his way into his room--his one place of comfort.

Having no strength to climb onto the mattress, he just slumped next to his bed, leaning against the nightstand for support. He made the mistake of looking into the cracked mirror beside him...and wailed as he saw the same monster that robbed you of life staring straight back at him:

A gaunt, skinny husk of a boy with pupils of light and a horrifying facial expression that's impossible for humans to mimic.

God, he wishes he spent more time with you...had he known all of this was going to happen..

Did you know he was an Alternate? Is that why you were afraid of him coming back to Mandela?

What would you do if you found him like this?

Would you still hold him?

Would you still sing to him?

Or....

'That's it...I can sing...' He realized, slowly quieting down as he recalled all the times you sang to him whenever he was saddened in the past.

If you were able to calm him down easily, then surely he can calm himself down in a similar way in this situation. It's just his own voice this time around; it couldn't be that much different...right?

It was worth a try.

"...s-such...a...pretty house...and...and such a pretty gardennn...."

He ignored the creaking of the front door being opened, and the footsteps that echoed through the house, slowly approaching his room.

"No..alarms-s-s....and no....a-and no....!"

Suddenly Adam began hyperventilating, eyes filling with tears as he struggled to finish the line, despising the way it sounded.

It wasn't the same.

It wasn't your voice.

It was a voice that wasn't even his own. Just a broken and flawed attempt to mimic the real Adam's--the one who never even got a shot at life before it was stolen away from him.

If this didn't help him..then nothing could..

He wanted you back.

He needed your voice to sing and comfort him, just as you've done all those years ago.

He needed you.

But you're never coming back again.

Up to this point, a certain ex-lieutenant officer with a vendetta against the Alternates entered the bedroom, shining the light around until he found this kid sitting all alone and....

Singing a Radiohead song?

He realized his ears weren't deceiving him, but just as he attempted to confirm his identity-

Adam's jaw unhinged without warning, stretching to impossible proportions as he looked directly into his eyes, screaming and crying out with all the grief left in him:

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"

#clanask #mandela catalogue x reader #tmc x reader #adam murray #parent reader #platonic #tw body horror #tw suicide mention #tw reader death #angst #hurt/comfort

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ro-written · 11 months

Text

Don't Wanna Fall In Love pt. 1 - C.Y

Tags/Warnings: gn!reader, player!Yeonjun, college!AU, bestie!Wooyoung, cursing, mentions of sex (no smut though!), partying, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 2.3k

Playlist:

“No Role Modelz” by J. Cole “Don’t Wanna Fall In Love” by Kyle

Part 2

Choi Yeonjun was known around campus for a variety of reasons. He was attractive, had decent grades, and was in a well-known friend group everyone wanted to join.

And he was a player.

Everyone knew this. And yet everyone seemed to think they could change him. Lock him down in a relationship and claim him as a trophy—an easy ride into popularity at school.

Yeonjun knew this every time he brought someone new into his apartment. But the thing was, that’s what made it so fun to him. Seeing what new tricks they would try to get him to ask them out on a proper date. The best attempt so far was cooking him a full breakfast in the morning rather than leaving altogether. That morning he sat there, ate breakfast in silence, and then gave them his signature “sympathetic” smile, followed by his usual spiel:

“I’m not really the best boyfriend type. Honestly, I’m kind of shitty at relationships. We can be friends though! I do hope you understand.”

It was well rehearsed after giving it to an assortment of people. Tweaked and polished to perfection. Started by giving a reason that explained his response, put the blame on him and his “shittiness” at relationships, gave them an alternative answer, and played at their sympathy. And they would eat it up every time. Admit their defeat as they walked out the door of his flat.

It was a cycle that repeated every time. And somehow, he never got tired of it.

—

You were never quite one for parties. At the risk of sounding like the “not like every other girl” trope, you just didn’t find too much enjoyment in them. Wasn’t your crowd, wasn’t your scene, but you never held it against others who did enjoy them. Your best friend, for example, was very into parties.

“Woo, I don’t know–”

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease,” he pleaded as he gave you his best puppy dog eyes.

Yes, Wooyoung was very into parties, and tonight would be one of the bigger ones that Yeonjun and his crew were throwing at Choi Beomgyu’s house. A celebration for the end of the first semester and surviving through finals. And your best friend was dead set on getting you to go to one party before you both left out for winter break.

“You know how I feel about those things…why can’t we just stay in and drink! I’ll even make your favorite ramen.” You tacked the last part of the sentence as a way to sweeten the deal, knowing he had a hard time saying no to your ramen. His eyebrows went up as he thought deeply about it.

“That’s a very tempting offer, I must admit,” he scratched his jaw. “But I really, really, really wanna go to this party. It’s being hosted by the Fabulous Five."

“Very stupid name.”

“Shut it.”

“I mean who calls themselves ‘the Fabulous Fi’–”

“Okay, I don’t think they call themselves that, everyone else just does,” he rolled his eyes and put his hands in the air. You laughed at his exasperated state, knowing that you could give just as much attitude as he could throw your way.

“But that’s not the point. The point is that this party means a lot to me,” he looked you in the eye, fully serious. “And I would really like it if my best friend was there beside me.” His words struck a deep cord in you. There was turmoil going on between your head and heart. Your heart was telling you to go with and be there for your best friend, just as he is there for you in everything. Your head told you to stay back, that you would absolutely hate it there. It would all be too much for you, and you knew that.

But goddammit, Wooyoung was looking at you like a hopeful little kid right now.

“You make it sound like you’re getting married, Jung.”

“If I find the right person tonight, maybe I will,” he laughed, grabbing your hand. “Pretty please? I will do the dishes all of next week.”

With a sigh, you looked down at your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. You really did hate doing the dishes.

“Fine.”

—

It was all…quite loud.

As soon as you stepped into the house the heat from all the bodies hit you. Smoke made the air so thick you could almost chew it. The volume of the music really did a number on your ears.

You had found a stair step that wasn’t being used to sit and scroll on your phone. Wooyoung had gone off somewhere with some dark-haired boy - saying something about “I’ll be back in a bit” - and left you to your own device.

For a while you people watched. There was a beer pong game going you found to be interesting, and afterward, a round of stack cup. You recognized a few of the players from your classes but weren’t super close to any of them. A few people went past you on the stairs up to god-knows-where, which you would shift out of the way a bit to avoid being stepped on. Some people you knew by name swung by to say hey, but that was the extent of your conversations in the midst of the chaos.

Eventually, nothing seemed all too interesting anymore, and you found yourself turning to your phone to do literally anything. You watched some videos, looked through the news a bit, texted back a friend or two, and before you knew, it only thirty minutes had gone by. You closed off your phone and hung your head, social battery depleting fast.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

A voice came from in front of you, and you looked up to find the source.

Choi Yeonjun stood right in front of you, holding out a cup of some transparent drink with an orange tint to it. Your eyes flickered from the drink up to his face, a gentle smile gracing it.

“No offense, but I don’t typically take drinks from strangers.” You gave him a light smile in order to politely decline him. He could have done anything to that drink, I don’t know him.

You knew of Yeonjun’s reputation around your school. You weren’t one to judge anyone for what they chose to do with their bodies. You’ve had a few one-night stands here and there but never made it a frequent thing. You did, however, try to go out of your way to steer clear of him and his friends out of not wanting to be caught up in any attention. Many of his escapades were pretty vocal about their time with him, and it brought them a bit of notice from your peers. You preferred to not be a similar case.

He smiled and nodded his head at your rejection, before putting the same cup to his mouth and downing the liquid. Your eyes widened a bit at how fast he took it down, before giving him another smile and looking awkwardly around at the other party-goers.

“Perhaps,” he started after a moment of silence. “I could accompany you to the kitchen. You could make your own drink, and I can properly introduce myself so we aren’t strangers anymore.” He offered a hand out to you, which you looked at for a second, wrestling your options.

Either A: Stay here and wait till Wooyoung comes back after who knows how long…

Or B: Go grab a little drink to help make it through this night.

Grabbing his hand, you stood up from the stairs. You immediately dropped it, which caused Yeonjun to furrow his eyebrows a bit before collecting himself.

“Follow me.”

—

Your curtains brought direct sunlight into your eyes, causing you to stir a bit to shift away from the assault. You groaned as your arm came up to cover your face.

And suddenly, an arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close to a warm body next to you.

Now I’m awake.

Your head whipped to the side to see Yeonjun still asleep next to you, his pouty lips were slightly open, cheek smushed against your pillow. His black hair was splayed across the pillow, giving him a bit of bedhead.

Eventually, your eyes trailed down his neck to his bare chest, and lower to where the blanket covered his waist down. You brought your eyes down and found you were wearing his shirt from last night, some band tee that had been oversized on him.

Your heart was racing as you tried to place all the spotty memories in order.

Kitchen for drinks.

We were talking on a couch at some point.

More drinks, I think.

Wooyoung left out, said he wasn’t going back to the apartment tonight.

You told Yeonjun you were headed out, he wanted to walk back with you.

“Gotta make sure you’re safe.”

You invited him into your apartment to sober up a bit before he left.

So how did he get into your bed?

“Um,” his voice drew you out of the mental puzzle. You turned your head to find him looking directly at you, eyes still a bit groggy. “Hey.”

“...Hi.” You looked at him with wide eyes, certain you looked crazy. This was not how anything was supposed to go, and he needed to leave before Wooyoung got back to the apartment. If he hasn’t been back already…

“Uh, so I’m really–”

“I’m sorry Yeonjun, last night was a mistake.” You offered him a sympathetic smile, cutting him off. His mouth stayed open, lost for words, eyes widened in confusion. He was taken aback, not knowing quite how to respond. You lifted the covers, ignoring his lower half, and stood up quickly, trying to find a pair of shorts, pants, anything to cover your legs.

“W-...It was?” He sat up and tilted his head to the side, looking vaguely like a lost puppy. You nodded your head with a tight-lipped smile.

“Yea, it’s just…I’m really not looking for anything right now. Mainly just focused on studies, you know?” You pulled out some sweatpants from a pile of clothes you had been meaning to fold. Gotta look for a shirt now.

“Right, right, me too.” His eyebrows creased as looked at you, shuffling around the room in search of something. You went to a drawer to pull out a plain black tee shirt and walked to your closet to change in.

“After I change I can go sit in the living room while you get dressed!” You said in a rushed manner from behind the door.

Yeonjun’s head was spinning.

No one has ever kicked him out.

Mainly cause they were almost always at his place and he would gently push them out. But this time they were in your apartment, and you were pushing him out. It completely took him by surprise, especially calling last night a “mistake.”

You stepped out of the closet and walked over to the bed to hand him his shirt back. Nodding, you left the room and gently closed the door behind you, not bothering to look back for a second.

A bit down the hallway you could see Wooyoung’s door open, and you tip-toed over to it just in case he had come back and fallen asleep. Peeking your head through, your entire body felt a wave of relief from seeing his bed empty, his keys and wallet that he would usually have on his bedside table gone.

You padded your way to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water, letting your thoughts fly through your head while you sipped at it.

How could you have let that happen? Everyone is going to be talking about you now, and you’ll only be known as one of Yeonjun’s conquests. All eyes on you for the next week now, you’ll have to go to class, keep your head down, and immediately come back home. Maybe he won’t talk about it? He never usually talks about his rendezvous’...Unless he mentions it to his friends! Beomgyu and Kai talk quite a bit, what if–

The sound of your door opening lifted your head up to stare at the hallway that led into your kitchen and living room. You watched as Yeonjun trudged out in the clothes he had worn last night. His hair was a bit more tamed than the bedhead he had earlier. You set the glass down and took a few steps toward him, not completely knowing what to say.

“So…I have somewhere I have to be…in a few minutes…” You trailed off, hoping he’d pick up what you were implying. You still hadn’t quite figured out how to politely tell one-night stands to leave.

“Right yeah, I have to get going too, I was meeting Soobin for lunch.” He smiled, finally having somewhat composed himself while getting dressed. You nodded as your heart hammered in your chest, wanting to force him out the door before Woo did arrive and started telling everyone who was in his apartment last night. With your luck, he may be walking up to the door now.

You moved to unlock and open the door for him, peering your head outside to check for your roommate. Still gone. You didn’t bother to offer Yeonjun anything else, needing him to get out of the building. He stepped around you and out the door, and just before you closed it, he turned back around to you.

“I’ll see you later?” Something glimmered in his eyes as he said it. A warm, hopeful feeling in his chest emerged, something he hadn’t experienced in a while. Your eyes met him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah, Yeonjun…I’ll definitely see you around.”

—

Do not repost or translate any of my work anywhere else.

All comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome!

#txt #tomorrow by together #tubatu #txt x reader #tomorrow x together #choi yeonjun #choi yeonjun x reader #choi yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun txt

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mandobatemans · 2 years

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hi! i'd like to ask a one shot on jonathan levy in which y/n is a girl in her early 20's who's the sister of one of his best friends. they get to know through her brother and with time they develop a mutual attraction for each other, but none of them wants to make the first move because of the age gap. until one day with all the built up sexual tension and desire for each other they finally decide to act on it. and that's the start of a secret affair.

thanks x

Jonathan Levy x f!Reader

rating: 18+

warnings: cheating, age gap, unprotected sex, not proofread

word count: 1,169

also posted to ao3

You had never found discussion of philosophy particularly interesting—that is, until you met Jonathan. Even then, it wasn't the subject itself that intrigued you but the man speaking. This happened every time you were visiting your brother while he was there. You'd end up hanging on every single one of Jonathan’s words, your head resting in one of your hands. You were sure the way you looked at him was dreamlike and were surprised he hadn't mentioned it. From what your brother had said, Jonathan was married with a daughter, but you wouldn't have known it just from talking with him. He talked about his daughter, of course, but never about his wife. Your brother would ask about Mira and he’d mutter something before quickly changing the subject. Foolishly, this gave you hope. You had to be around 10 years his junior, and you were his best friend’s baby sister. There was no chance. So, you resigned yourself to longing looks at him across the dinner table or quick smiles in passing.

Your brother had texted you the day after Jonathan had come over to his house, asking you for a favor. Jonathan had left a folder of work papers and was teaching at the university all day, and your brother and his partner both had work. That left you to deliver the folder. You should've been looking forward to doing the errand, but honestly, you were as nervous as fuck. Seeing Jonathan at your brother’s house was bad enough, but seeing him at work, dressed in those sweaters and jackets…it made your thoughts run rampant. When you got there, any remaining resolve you had went out the window. He was leaning back in the chair at his desk, alternating between chewing on the lid of a pen and biting his lip.

Gently, you knocked at his office door and he looked up, smiling. He called your name and invited you in. “I, um, brought the stuff you left,” you said, waving the folder in your hands.

“Amazing, thank you. I really appreciate you doing this for me,” he took the folder and set it on his desk, gesturing toward a couch on the opposite side of the room. “Do you wanna sit?”

You nodded, following him to the couch, mirroring his actions as he crossed his legs. It was a small couch and you were hyper aware of where your thighs were touching. “No problem.” You looked around the office, noting a photo of his daughter but none of his wife. “Do y-”

“So-”

“Oh! I’m sorry, go ahead.”

He adjusted his glasses, “No, no, I was just going to ask how you were. I really do appreciate you bringing the folder back, I can’t believe I left it.

“It was really no trouble at all. I’m happy to help out a friend of my brother’s.”

Nodding, he looked away, fumbling with the wedding ring on his finger. You couldn’t help but eye it, noticing how the metal seemed to weigh down his hand. You weren’t sure what overcame you in that moment, but it felt like your body was operating outside of your mind as you grasped his hand in yours, pressing a kiss to the palm. You guided his hand to your thigh, searching his eyes for any protest. You found none. Delicately, you leaned in to kiss him, your confidence waning.

“Fuck,” he murmured, pushing your head onto his lips with his other hand. The kiss was tongue, teeth, and saliva, not very romantic, but full of years of pent-up passion. He tangled his hand in your hair as the other trailed up your thigh, thumb rubbing against the skin there. “This okay?”

You moaned what sounded like a yes into his lips, bucking your hips off the couch to slip your panties off.

“Wait, honey, hang on.” Jonathan pressed another kiss to your lips and stood to shut and lock the office door. As he walked back to you, he undid his belt, discarding it on the floor next to your underwear. He sat back next to you, pulling you onto his lap. Pressing kisses into your neck, he whispered how beautiful you were and how long he had dreamed of this. Embarrassingly so, his compliments made you more flushed than the fact that you were grinding your bare pussy onto the material of his pants.

“Me too,” was all you could muster as you unbuttoned his pants and freed his cock from his underwear.

Shifting his kisses to your lips, he helped you settle onto his length, hushing you as you whimpered at the stretch. He was big—just like all your fantasies had predicted. “You alright, angel?”

You nodded, rolling your hips to urge him to start moving. He smiled into your lips, starting at a slow pace to help you get accustomed to his size. Once you confirmed that you were comfortable by shoving your tongue deeper into his throat, he growled, holding your hips in place so he could piston up into you. You almost screamed at the quick increase in pace, but it was lost in your throat.

“Such a fuckin’ good girl,” he groaned, licking his fingers before rubbing circles on your clit. You silenced your moans by biting down on his shoulder, almost in tears by the force of your orgasm once you came. “Baby, I-”

“Inside,” you answered, smiling at the wicked look in his eye at your reply. A few moments later, he came, riding out his high by thrusting up into you a few more times.

He smiled up at you, unable to resist kissing you again. “You did so good for me.” Jonathan tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear, watching as you pressed another kiss to his palm. “I can’t say I haven’t thought about this before.”

“Me either. I thought you wouldn’t be interested, me being your friend’s little sister and all.” You both ignored the elephant in the room.

“I’ve always liked you. You’re sweet, funny, gorgeous.” He ran his hands up and down your body absentmindedly as he spoke. You chewed on your lip, struggling to find an excuse to see him again like this. “I, uh, hope you leave another folder at my brother’s house.”

Jonathan laughed, eyes crinkling. “Mm, I’m sure we can find a way to get you here again. Only if you’d like, of course. I want you to be comfortable-”

“Jonathan.” You held both his hands in yours, assuring him that you were perfectly comfortable.

“Hey. Can I take you out to lunch? I have about an hour before my next class.”

“I’d like that. But we should probably, um…” You gestured to where you two were still joined and both laughed.

“I’ll get us something.” He pressed another kiss to your forehead and lifted you off him, crossing the room to find you a cloth. As you watched him, you were certain it wouldn’t be your last time seeing him like this.

tagging: @budcooper @aellynera @wasicskosgirl @foxilayde @autumnleaves1991-blog @abelslittlebunny

#jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy smut #jonathan levy #scenes from a marriage #my fic #ask

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liamthemailman · 2 months

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yuo have 4 hoc characters right. ,,,..... what if joker card (probably would be the side characters of side characters)

when i first read this the image of a tactical jester appeared in my mind and im. kinda not liking it

okay but like. this? the joker card in HoC? i saw this ask come in and i keep thinking about it... i hope you don't mind if i ramble

i can't really think of an OC based on the Joker because i already wrote Jack's character to be a wild card, i.e. being chaotic in personality, unpredictable, little to no regard for rules. he fits the role if you think about it

that and i based the characters off the suitmarks first before assigning them what face they got, rather than the alternative. and i know the joker card doesnt have a suitmark but i also dont really wanna draw a jester emblem when the others are so easy lol

then i left it out because i had no idea how to fit in a comedy character into the House of Cards yk? i'm already not funny and i'm not about to add the Joker into the AU and the callsign Joker seems really mean considering there's a callsign that's like 'King'

and i don't know how to write like, a side character well (i struggled writing Price as just a passing figure(i struggle writing in general))

back when House of Cards were in it's first drafts, all the way back when i even considered drawing out a comic for it (Act 1 alone would have taken me half a year to produce), i wanted to put in a background character that would appear just before a catastrophe happens. sort of like an omen

hell, i wanted to put my sona in the background to act as an omen/easter egg/4th wall break or whatever but thought against it since i think it would immediately take away all the seriousness in the scene (and its lowkey cringe lets be fr)

i soon settled to just fics and the idea of adding said background character was tossed aside

i suppose the joker card position remains unfilled? we'll see how things go but i'm curious how a joker character would fit in

a more rowdy and chaotic version of Jack? a funny guy who cracks jokes over comms to alleviate tensions? or maybe just a passing person who disrupts the storyline like a butterfly effect? a random person for any of the existing HoC characters to interact with like a confidant? or maybe a friend for Jack, someone young and fun like him who she can relate to.

maybe it doesn't have to be just the one joker too. maybe it's how Queen views useless soldiers or King referring to FNGs that make fools out of themselves. people in the background with no real value to even be worth mentioning.. not a lot of positive connotations with jokers really,,

i'd like to hear your ideas too anon. ramble with me.

#its nice to be able to #yap about my ocs #theyre like #infesting my brain #and i have not known peace ever since i willed them into existence #hell i doubt anyone has (or will)#a joker card oc #that'd be pretty fucking dope to see #the side characters of side characters...#mailman rants

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sadsycamoretree · 2 years

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HEY HEY HEY !!! ALL PEOPLE WRITING SIBLINGS HERE ARE THINGS ME AND SIBLINGS DO TO ADD THAT FUN SIBLING BOND

1. the room thing where you open the door, stare at your sibling for like a minute, they ask what the fuck are you doing ? and then leave. but leaving the door open to inconvenience them

2. dumb lies to each other, my older sister and i will gang up on our younger sister and try to convince her of random stuff that happened.

3. lie together! we all band together to lie to our parents <33 about dumb stuff or serious stuff

4. steal clothes

5. threaten each other with the nearest object. better if object is a food

6. be honest. like mean honest. like stuff you’d never say to your friends… stuff that would ruin friendships. the meanest shit tbh and then after you say it: laugh

7. hate on their friends. cuz sometimes they have awful friends and i need them to know that i don’t like their friend

8. fight over food related things. ex. theres only enough milk for one glass, theres only one strawberry left, there arent any marshmallows in the lucky charms… stuff like that

9. when they annoy you steal a random item for like two weeks and then put it back where you stole it from just to fuck with them but never tell them you stole it so they just think they’re stupid

10. fight over what food to buy when planning groceries

11. getting ready for bed and fighting for who gets to use the sink first/shower first

12. getting home from a long drive and racing to the bathroom and yelling when they get there first and then having to run to the other bathroom which is like on the opposite side of the house and upstairs

13. discussing something peacefully in your room with them then randomly getting annoyed and saying, “okay you have to leave now im tired” and them getting really offended.

14. inside jokes!

15. looking at each other when someone says something stupid

16. mishearing each other. my siblings and i tend to have conversations likes through different rooms so we usually mishear and have to repeat stuff, which also leads to argue and frustration bcuz none us like to repeat ourselves

17. my younger sister hates going downstairs by herself so she constantly comes into my room and like stands there in the dark while im half asleep like : will you come get food with me ? and if i don’t go with her she leaves my door open so i have to get up anyways

18. making a mean joke and them not having the same energy back and then you know you hurt their feelings so you have to be like, do you wanna get food? i’ll pay, and them be really nice on the car ride until they’re joking again

19. when our parents are being unfair to one us and the others stand up for us… alternatively tho the betrayal of when my parents argue with me and my sisters side with them

20. arguing about whos the favorite child. me saying, “its probably not me” and them immediately agreeing

21. second hand therapy from our older sister who goes to therapy and shes like yeah so my therapist and i talked about this and i also felt like you guys would benefit bc its about mom and dad and then revealing some random trauma we all forgot about and being like yeah that was fucked up !

#writing #writing prompts #prompts #writing siblings #siblings #writing stuff #writers #authors #sibling dynamics #long post #i think long post?#idk

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lovelaetter · 2 years

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Tell us what Terrible things you wanna do to winter pls😭

CW: BIT OF NONCON, HEAVY PET PLAY (kind of)

okay, first, i will write this all in first person since it’s what I want to do to with her and it’s not peak terrible things BUT it’s something on my mind..

imagine this alternative universe where it’s legal for people to buy other people, literally, one like flor talked about in this post, but no hybrids, actual humans to do anything you want them to. now, enough background, let’s go to the fun part

i keep thinking about buying minjeong — the worst one to deal with, the type to spit and scratch any buyers that come for a closer look and probably has been bought and returned thousands of times — and turning her into a house pet. taking her home and making her wear a gag ball while having her hands cuffed at her back until she learns that good pets don’t spit nor scratch their owners, letting her free only to feed and take showers.

if she’s particularly bad behaved in a certain day, I wouldn’t mind showering her myself too, saying how she’s just like a dog, can’t even wash herself, all while taking advantage to fondle her little tits and ass, kneeling to inspect her holes, spreading her cheeks open to take a look at her puckered asshole and parting her pussy lips too, giving a single lick and laughing at how she flinches. standing and pressing her chest to the wall, her eyes widening as I start teasing her ass with a finger and slide it inside. one turns into two and then three, taking my time to stretch her open for my strap. unclasping the gag just to hear her cries, tears running down her face as she begs me to stop, saying it hurts and how she promises to behave.

it wouldn’t take much for her to realize that it’s better accepting her fate than fighting; she has food and water, many things to distract herself with, a big cage in my bedroom for her to sleep on and the house is warm and clean, unlikely the place she used to live, she just needs to follow easy rules such as no talking and using the furniture unless given permission — learning that the hard way, being slapped at every word that leaves her mouth and spanked every time she’s caught on the couch —, no clothes, always presenting herself for me to use, and be waiting for me by the door to eat me out and help me relax after a long day. holding her head in place and grinding my pussy the way I like on her face not caring if she can breath or not…

would love to try and give her some kind of classical conditioning training, ringing a bell from time to time while fucking her, specially when she cums, so after a few time she gets turned on and extremely needy upon hearing the sound. then, buying her a pretty collar with a bell attached that rings at any movement of hers, so there’s nothing she can do without ending up wanting to be used, crawling up to me and pawing at my legs, whining, dripping on the floor. her not being able to hold back even when i have friends over, kneeling on my feet and grinding her swollen cunt on my shoe, panting against my thigh or bringing me her favorite strap on so she can ride me, not caring if everyone is looking.

from feral girl to a needy brainless pet <3

#asks #aespa smut #winter smut #kim minjeong smut #there’s obviously more that i would want to do to her but… yeah #cw: noncon #cw: heavy pet play

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hypernova-blitz-arts · 6 months

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Okay so i have an idea- TMC but with a storyline based off of FAITH. basically a crossover. ik it's been done before but i'd like to present my own take on it. Long ass character info list under the cut

Btw if you wanna rb this, please do! It let's me know people are interested

To start, I think the AU would/should be called When Faith Prevails.

The cult still exists, Preacher is the leader of the lower ranking members. The cat is the cult mascot because yes. I'll elaborate later.

All of the humans are traumatized!! Yaaaaay!!!

Mark (Father Heathcliff)

- 36

- absolute wet cat of a man

- takes on a role similar to John

- decided he wanted to be a priest so he could help people. Only wanted to become a priest after an incident in his childhood in which he attempted to finish an exorcism. One which the priest that had been called to the scene died during.

- Continuing the above, the faithful boy did what he could, as he was instructed to by O'Brien. He wasn't fast enough.

- Insomnia, night terrors, PTSD, anxiety, depression

Dave (Father Lee)

- late 50's

- Takes on a role similar to Father Garcia because it's fucking hilarious to me to imagine Dave blasting a demon with a shotgun

- he's too cool that's why he dies later

- cares for Mark a lot, considers him family

- became a priest due to his Visions (TM) as a child. He's been revered as a holy prophet since.

- somehow the most stable guy in this entire AU, had a good family life, decent childhood, stayed out of trouble, a very good child. He's mostly chillin, save for the fact that he Witnesses The Horrors every night in his sleep.

Father O'Brien

- died during an exorcism.

- he done goofed.

Cesar Torres

- Died at 16, somehow aged as a ghost? maybe because he's still attached to his body.

- a spirit bound to what's left of his mortal form. Cannot be at peace until his body is killed.

- an alt possessed him and took his body during a botched attempt to exorcise it out of his house. Turns out there was more than one.

- "talks" to Mark sometimes (leaves things out that mean different things, writes notes)

- "bleeding" constantly

- hates seeing Mark spiral like this

"Cesar Torres"/Alt Cesar

- Killed Cesar and took over his body.

- watch it gain humanity later (i'm sorry but giving Alts humanity and then making them spiral is my favorite thing to do. It's so much fun to watch an unfeeling entity, one made to kill, drive itself insane over being a failure)

- they/it at first, he/it later on.

Sarah Heathcliff

- before i go on, this is only an AU loosely based on FAITH. That being said, Lisa (or any replacement thereof) x John (or any replacement thereof) does not exist.

- 32

- Mark's distant sister, lives in the Cult's apartment building.

- stays away from religion because of her childhood

- some flavor of emotional management issues, that's what makes her so easy for an Alternate to manipulate/begin to possess.

Thatcher Davis

- look, i refuse to make him as young as he is canonically. not as old as Dave, but close. bro is at least in his 40's here. maybe very early 40's but 40s nonetheless.

- cop that hangs around the church for security.

- hangs out with Dave, calls him old man a lot

- trauma. so much trauma.

- Dave taught him how to exorcise an alt out of a given place, but Thatcher has something stronger (a gun)

- "I'm a brave boy" *Sees an alt* "NOT A BRAVE ENOUGH BOY FOR THIS"

Ruth Weaver

- used to live in the cult apartment building.

- She was sacrificed.

- Thatcher is still looking for her.

- He won't like what he finds.

Adam Murray

- He's just Michael Davies here what else can i say

-17

- humanity? gone. none left.

- he's in so much pain all the fucking time help him

Jonah Marshall

- Adam's best friend

-18

- alive. for now.

- anxiety, so much anxiety, hallucinates a lot.

- he knows how to use a GUN in this one folks

Lucifer/The Morningstar/ UNSPEAKABLE

- you see how he looks in canon? make it worse. make it a million times more uncomfortable to look at.

- eyes. All of the eyes. So many eyes.

- limbs? Many. Wings? Yeah, he has those too. They're leathery and bat-like with a layer of blackened feathers along the top.

- merciless

- created the alternates to twist the world to his design.

- likes to watch humans go mental, it's so funny to him <3

Important side characters (mostly Alts)

Six/The Anglerfish

- lures children in to either make them join the cult or sacrifice them, often replaces them with an alt to "spread the vision of it's creator"

- Warned Mark of what was to happen, was there to observe Mark failing his best friend

- bastard. Kill him. Right now.

- him and stanley are one in the same. Six is the anglerfish hiding in the darkness behind its lure. A monster behind a friendly face.

Preacher

- Kind of equivalent to Malphas but usually takes a form like that of Miriam's

- right hand to the UNSPEAKABLE

- bastard boy bastard boy bastard boy

- manipulative little prick

The Sacrifices

- various sacrificed animals possessed by lower ranking alts

Goat

- THE fucked up sacrifice

- little fucking bitchass daddy's boy. Asskisser of the antichrist. Desperate for the UNSPEAKABLE'S attention

- Alu's replacement

#faith: the unholy trinity #the mandela catalogue #my au #tmc au

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why-what-no · 2 years

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hi i really wanna request a billy hargrove x fem reader, where she just falls out of love with him (she didnt fall for anyone else), and it doesnt really affect her but it affects billy alot (i wanna see sad billy so bad.) basically based off the quote “i dont love you anymore, goodbye”. i wanna see billy SOOOOOO pussy whipped, like hes so so so inlove with her 🤗 thank you so much

Don’t Love You

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Warning: sad boi hours

Notes: Here you go! Sorry this took a while, I’m in a bit of a slump atm. But god, this was really easy for me to write because honestly, relatable. Which is depressing, but I’m glad I could put it to use to write this.

Part two

Billy had some feeling inside of a him, an anxious pit in his stomach. He’s know something was wrong with his girlfriend for a while now, but… she wasn’t saying anything.

When he said “anything”, he meant it. (Y/N) had started spending more time with friends and now he barely saw her. Normally, Billy would cut his losses, go talk to some other girl. But… he couldn’t stop thinking. Did he do something? Was there someone else? (That thought in particular made his stomach churn)

He couldn’t stand it, so within an hour he was outside her house.

“Billy?” He heard her, turning around so he could look at her. He loved looking at her. “Billy, what are you doing here?”

“I’m not allowed to want to see my girlfriend?” He joked, but almost froze when he saw her bristle at the word ‘girlfriend’.

“I.. I was just at Nancy’s.” She said. Billy tried to interpret her tone. Was it an explanation? An excuse? Just the first awkward thing that she could think to say?

He missed the time, only a week or so again, when they could speak about everything. When they knew exactly what their lives were like.

“I need to talk to you.” He finally said after a moment of unbearable silence where (Y/N) was fidgeting in front of him.

The fidgeting disappeared, and she got still. “Okay.” Her tone shifted. He expected her to be nervous, but she just sounded… expectant. “We can talk inside.”

***

She sat down on her couch, looking up at him. “So?” She asked him.

“I…” He said, beginning to get a little frustrated with his girlfriend. “What’s going on with you.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, but he wasn’t fooled. Her expression was crestfallen when he had asked her that.

And now he was even more frustrated. “You know what I mean. We never spend any time together, you’re always with your friends. You’ve barely spoke to me this week!” He had tried to avoid raising his voice… But when he was finally letting his feelings out he couldn’t help himself.

He regretted it when he saw (Y/N) flinch, the idea he scared her truly painful for him.

“I’m sorry.” She responded. “I just…”

“Is there someone else?” He was disgusted with how pathetic his voice sounded. If it was anyone else he would be furious, but with her it just felt like he was begging her to tell him there wasn’t.

And she did. “No!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Of course not. You know I wouldn’t do that!”

She sighed, rubbing her hands. “I though you were going to do this first.”

“What?” He asked, and then scoffed when he realized what she was saying. “You thought… you wanted me to break up with you?”

“I’m sorry. But, I just.” She slumped on her couch under his disbelieving stare. “It’s not your fault, I just don’t feel anything romantic for you anymore.”

“Just like that?” His voice was almost a whisper. “You can do that?” His throat was dry, and he could feel himself starting to tear up. He forced the feeling down as he waited for a response.

“I’m sorry.” She did sound sorry, but she also sound like a weight had been taken off her chest. Billy, alternatively, felt like that weight had been thrown onto him.

She got up, walking to her door. “I thought it would be easier for you if you thought it was your idea to break up.”

“So you just avoided me?” He asked, starting to leave. Not wanting her to see how hurt he was.

“And I… I thought with some distance I could change how I felt, go back to normal.” Her confession made him feel almost empty. “But… I don’t love you anymore. Sorry.”

He laughed bitterly. “Amazing.” He said, sarcastically. Anger was the only thing he allowed himself to feel. “This has been great. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” She said softly as he stormed off.

***

He slammed his hand on the dashboard as soon as he got in the car. “Fuck!” He yelled, feeling the tears starting to stream down his face.

Part of him wanted to back inside, to pathetically beg her to take him back. If she just gave him another chance, he was sure he could make her love him like he loved her.

Another part of him wanted to make her regret this. To find some other girl and make her jealous. Prove that he was too good for her. But he knew he wasn’t. And he knew that he wouldn’t be able to be with another girl without thinking about (Y/N).

Honestly, he didn’t know what he was going to do.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove angst #angst #my fics #stranger things x reader

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kiwiana-writes · 7 months

Note

3 & 18!

Oooooh thank you friend!

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

I kind of have the opposite, which is a GREAT introduction that I honestly can't be bothered with the follow-through on. Honestly I just wanted to write the joke my spouse made while we were watching the film into a fic lol. So have that! Maybe I'll write it one day, maybe I won't.

“Do you think I could make you come without touching you?” The question is not, in itself, shocking. Henry likes talking about sex; it’s something Alex has grown used to, learned to appreciate over time. He certainly can’t argue with the results of Henry’s desire to over-analyse each stray thought and fantasy either of them has, fucking workshopping them into the most incendiary thing the two of them have done together until the inevitable next thing comes along. No, the surprising part of the question is that he asks it now, when they’re sitting side by side on the couch, Henry’s nose buried in Sense & Sensibility while Alex battles his way through the last of his class reading for the night. Henry isn’t even looking at him. “I…” Alex hesitates, really thinking about it. Because it’s the fundamental truth of the universe: Alex’s body is singularly attuned to Henry, has been ever since Henry pressed him back into his mattress in the White House and gave him the supreme head of the Church of England and rewrote Alex’s understanding of himself. Sure, if Henry told him to come right now, with no work up and no warning, he probably couldn’t, though he’s pretty sure his dick would give it a valiant effort anyway. But laid out on their bed, maybe tied up, with Henry pouring a litany of filth and praise into his ears? “Yeah, probably.” “Hmm. All right,” Henry says, and then he just— Turns the page.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Okay I know you haven't read the Much Ado actor AU yet, so I won't go into that one! But one day I totally will lol.

But! Wander Where They Will (swans fic my beloved) originally had the fake/arranged marriage between David and Stevie! Which would have been such a fun subversion of the usual trope, but then I ran up against a deadline and wrote 12k of it in one day and had to streamline the fuck out of the love story lmao. So it wound up where it wound up, but I still wanna see more fake dating/marriage between people who AREN'T endgame. Fucking with tropes is something I deeply enjoy.

[Fun meta asks for writers]

#fun meta asks for writers #ask meme response #stereopticons

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georgieluz · 5 months

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Juleeees, how are you? I'll go with 4, 10, 11, 21 and 28 for the "not from the US" ask set

jess! hello!! i'm not too bad, thanks! just got back from braving the rain to buy christmas jumpers (it's christmas jumper weekend at work on friday so had to go searching), how about you?

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

probably glamorgan sausage, which isn't made of actual sausage. it's made of cheese, but it's a vegetarian alternative to normal sausage. but yeah, usually made with cheese and leek.

i do also love a slice of bara brith, but specifically the one served in the restaurant at my workplace!

if we wanna be really basic then welshcakes are always a good shout and i have one every friday with a cup of tea in work!

crempogs are soo very good also!!

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

ooh okay so i don't know if it would necessarily be the most enjoyable but it's the one my friends and i used most whilst growing up and that's "cachau bant" which is a way of saying "fuck off" but if you translate it literally it's "shit away".. and then i can't not include "cont" which i imagine you can guess the translation of (we use it affectionately here though, so it's more like "alright, cont?" or "shwmae cont" when you greet your friend)

11. favourite native writer/poet?

okay, it's probably very predictable to choose dylan thomas but i do love his poems and his poetry is loved for good reason! he didn't write in cymraeg, only saesneg, but he's welsh and wrote about wales and life here, and i think the fact that he wrote in english and not welsh speaks a lot about the journey our language unfortunately went on

also r.s thomas' poems about wales are always interesting to study, in particular welsh history, which has the ending lines:

when we have finished quarrelling for crumbs under the table, or gnawing the bones of a dead culture, we will arise and greet each other in a new dawn

his other poems a welsh testament, welsh landscape, the village and sorry are all really interesting as well!

niall griffiths is a great welsh author too. his books set in aberystwyth are really really good!

oh and richard king!! both his books about music and his oral histories of wales book are 11/10!!

menna gallie's work is awesome as well, i loved 'the small mine' which explores how a fictional welsh village comes together after a mining tragedy. it focuses a lot on how women in the community deal with the loss. her other books are great too and she has a really witty writing style that i enjoy a lot

a few others: owen sheers, gillian clarke and sarah waters!

not quite relevant, but still worth a mention, is the story of the soldier-poet known as hedd wyn and the eisteddfodd of 1917!

21. if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?

ohhhh this is really hard.. does it have to be an object or can it be like just a welsh tradition or?? oH WAIT I KNOW i'd send mari lwyd up there!!! to maybe freak out all the aliens. it's one of my favourite welsh customs and traditions for christmas! this is what it looks like:

28. does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?

oh boy! it does indeed... if you wanna know how many mountains wales has, it's better to just look at this topography map

there aren't any genuinely flat areas of wales. my high school was near the top of a mountain, and my house growing up was halfway up the same one. we hated having to walk up it every morning, and yet, we still went down to the village on our lunch hour. maybe that's why we were all fucking tiny bc we trekked up a mountain twice a day.

here's one of our rivers, which we similarly have a fuck ton of

so yeah. a shit ton of rivers and a shit ton of mountains. my favourite mountains are the brecon beacons bc we used to go there so much when i was growing up. it's like a tradition for welsh people to climb there and hike there as soon as the weather gets milder!

oh wow, sorry this was SOOOO long but it was fun to talk about these things so thank you for asking!!

for this ask game!

#julian's inbox #julian's ask games #cymraeg ask game!!

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m-jelly · 2 years

Note

If it’s not to much trouble can you write a Levi x elf reader where it’s like an aftermath of a forbidden romance and they are in hiding with a few kids and there oldest is a teenage girl who is rebelling against them and tries to convince Levi to let her go to public school.

Of course, I will make it a bit angsty but with love and fluff.

@kenkopanda-art <3

For love

Pairing: Levi x Elf!Reader

Genre: Alternative AU, fluff, romance, married life, couple, five kids, mention of past hurt/abuse but reader is now safe, scars, rebellious teen, coming to an understanding, happy ending.

Concept: Kuchel, Levi's eldest is becoming a teenager and she wants to go to public school. Levi won't let her go and she pushes Levi to tell her. She asks you and you support Levi that her going to school is dangerous. Your daughter snaps at you and runs off. Levi confronts her and confesses why she can't, why you live the life you do and why insulting your wounds is bad. Kuchel apologises to you and Levi. You and Levi organise for Erwin, Hange and Mike to come and tutor your daughter.

Warnings: Levi explains to his daughter the abuse that happened to you for loving Levi and rejecting the elf ways. You lost the tips of your ears and you have a limp, but Levi doesn't go into detail about what happened simply that you got hurt because you chose him.

"Dad? I wanna go to school. I don't want to be home schooled by you and mum anymore."

Levi shook his head as he finished putting a nappy on his baby. "No."

Kuchel huffed. "Please? I researched the area and I know the best school for me."

He put his baby girl in her outfit. "No."

Kuchel pouted. "I'll go two days a week! They'll let me."

Levi picked up his baby girl and held her against his chest. He flicked his gaze to his eldest, who looked so like his mother except his daughter had elf ears. "You went to the school?"

"I was asking them about what their program was. They understood and said they could ease me in." She held up a paper. "I even did the entry exam and I got the highest score they've ever had!"

Levi stared at the score. "I'm proud of you for doing so well, but you're still not going."

"But dad!"

He walked out of the house to you in the front garden with your three other children. He turned to Kuchel. "I'm mad that you would go there and do the test. We've talked about this Kuchel, you are not going."

She huffed. "I need to make friends!"

He sighed and stopped in his path as his baby girl pulled at his shirt. "Kuchel, you make plenty by going into town with me and running our shop."

"I want to be like every other teen."

His shoulders slumped. "I know you do, but there are...issues."

She hugged herself. "Issues? What issues! I've met people like me in your shop! I've seen orcs, humans, ogres, pixies, and fairies! I can be out there with others."

"You're part elf, it's different."

"Why!?" She pointed at him. "You don't have elf ears!" She pointed at you. "Mum doesn't either! So something isn't right here!"

Levi clenched his jaw. "Kuchel, watch yourself. I love you dearly, but you're digging where you shouldn't be."

Kuchel huffed and stormed over to you with her three brothers. "Mum!"

You looked up and smiled softly at Kuchel. "Hello, darling. Everything alright? It's not like you to fight with your father."

She sat in front of you. "I want to go to public school. I did the test and passed." She handed you the paper so you could see. "Best grades they've ever seen! Mum, I'm smart, really smart because of you and dad, but now it's time to hand me over to the school. I want to be around others my age."

You lowered the paper. "I'm proud of you for getting such a high score, but it worries me that you went there all alone."

"I was fine! No one was horrible to me. Please mum!"

You handed the paper back and shook your head. "I'm sorry, Kuchel, but it isn't safe for you to go to public school."

"I'll be okay! I talked to the school and they said they'll let me go twice a week so I can help you and dad."

You pulled your two-year-old close. "I'm sorry, Kuchel, but I agree with your father. I don't think you should go."

She growled. "What do you know!? All you've ever done is pick stupid herbs and flowers to make tea and spices for people! You're stuck in that damn garden! All you do is work and push out babies for dad! I want to be someone! I'm proud of who I am unlike you! What example are you setting for us? You don't even have your elf ears! You walk with a limp! How can I be sure dad is even my dad?"

You stared at Kuchel as tears filled your eyes. "You're right. I don't set a good example and I'm sorry for that." You shook your head. "But you still aren't going to school."

"I hate this!"

You watched your daughter hurry off into the woods. You smiled softly at your boys. "It's okay, you three did nothing wrong. Mummy is okay."

Levi knelt and handed you your baby. "I'll deal with her."

You hugged your baby girl. "I think it's time we tell her what happened."

Levi's heart broke a little. "My love."

You smiled. "It's okay. She needs to know."

Levi kissed you. "I love you. I'll be right back." He left you with his three boys and baby girl. He felt awful that such terrible things were said to you, but at the same time, he understood his daughter's frustrations. He kept following the path and found his daughter sitting but the waterfall she loved playing. "Kuchel."

She rubbed her tears. "I never ask for anything and the one time I ask for something, you tell me no."

Levi sat next to her and sighed. "Did I ever tell you how your mother and I met?"

She sniffed. "No."

He smiled softly. "I was a mercenary for hire. I did a lot of work for many people and one day, your grandfather - your mother's father, asked me to work for him. So, I did."

She frowned. "Right...that it?"

Levi ruffled his hair. "It wasn't that simple. I'm human and your mother is an elf."

"She is?"

Levi nodded. "Yes. Elves are very...they don't like mixing their blood. So your mother loving someone outside her race was bad. She was supposed to marry this pure elf, but your mother wanted love and I came along."

Kuchel smiled. "You wooed her?"

"I tried." Levi laughed. "I was very clumsy with my flirting and a blushing mess. Your mother liked it. We met in secret and planned to run away together. I scouted out a few places. Your Uncles Mike and Erwin, along with Aunt Hange helped us out."

"So romantic."

Levi's gaze went dark. "Then the worst day of our lives happened. Your mother was found out while I was away setting up this home. Your grandfather was so cruel to her, but your mother was so strong."

Kuchel felt her heart stop. "What happened to mum?"

Levi gulped. "I'll spare you the details, but he tried to get her to give me up and she refused and due to that she has a limp. He broke her leg badly. He knew he'd lost and told her she was a disgrace to elves and doesn't deserve to be one." He reached up and touched the top of his ears. "He cut off the tops of her ears. Those lovely points were gone."

Kuchel touched her ears. "Mum..."

Levi looked over at Kuchel and put his arm around her. "Your mother is alright. She's happy here. Her dream was to run a nice spice, herb and tea place. She'd help people with what she makes and she knows I love tea." He hummed a laugh. "We came here and we were safe and happy." He rubbed her tears away. "We don't want you to go to school in case you get bullied. Your mother is a disgraced elf and I fear that you going to a school would mean you will be bullied. I don't want you to hate your beautiful self because of others."

Kuchel hugged Levi. "I understand and I'm sorry I shouted."

"It's okay. We hid this from you because we wanted to protect you. We love you and your brothers and sister so very much. You are everything to us. We love you and this is the best thing we know to do right now. Give us some time, okay? I'll figure something out with your teaching."

"Thank you."

He smiled a little. "We wouldn't mind if you joined a local club, that would be alright."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Really." He stood up. "Now, let's go say sorry to your mother."

She blushed. "I was so mean."

"It's okay. Your mother understands your frustrations. Come on."

Kuchel walked back with Levi and saw you tucking your four little ones on the outside bed. "Mum? Can we talk?"

You stood up and limped a little over to her. "Of course. Levi? Look after the little ones for me."

Levi winked. "Happy to."

You put your arm around Kuchel and walked with her a bit before hugging her tightly. "I love you. I love you so much."

Kuchel cried in your arms. "I'm so sorry mum! I'm so sorry! You're so beautiful! You're so pretty and cute! I want to be strong and brave just like you!"

You hummed a laugh. "You already are just like me."

"I hate grandad."

You hummed. "He's just stuck in his old ways. I do hope someday he realises what he did and we can make amends."

She gasped as she looked up at you. "You're incredible."

You smiled sweetly. "I'm just me." You put your arm around her and guided her back. "I guess that bed time story about a monster nipping my ears off won't work anymore."

Kuchel laughed hard. "It won't work."

You winked at her. "Oh well. By the way, Levi is very much your father. You look just like him. Your momma never wanted any other man." You hugged Levi and covered his face in kisses. "Love you."

Levi growled. "Love you."

You looked over at Kuchel. "I've been thinking. How about you spend time with Erwin, Mike and Hange? They are excellent teachers and they can take you all over. You'll meet lots of people along the way."

Kuchel gasped in delight. "Really!?"

You nodded. "They'll keep you safe, take care of you, teach you and let you meet other people. Sometimes you'll be away from us for a week maybe more. Are you okay with that?"

Kuchel welled up. "I'll miss you all."

Levi smiled. "We'll miss you too. So, what do you think?"

"I want to! Thank you!" She hugged you and Levi. "Thank you! I'll make you both proud."

"We're already proud."

You nodded. "Very proud."

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