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#because that child won’t understand that it’s a joke
jjkyaoi · 3 months
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btw. it’s not funny to be genuinely mean and terrible to your little sibling? just so we’re like. clear. it’s not funny or a joke to chase them around with knives or make fun of them to your friends or Lock them in a Dark Storage Room (to the one tiktok comment i saw) it’s not cain instinct or funny or “older sibling things” it’s genuinely traumatizing for some of them. and sometimes, whenever little siblings talk about the cruel shit their older brothers/sisters did to them that wasn’t a joke to them, 90% of the time those same type of siblings will call them babies or downplay it or, pull out the classic, “i had to raise you”.
kids shouldn’t ever be put in the position of having to raise their younger sibling, but it does not give you the right to be cruel and take it out on your sibling who did not have a choice in the family they were born in either. there’s a difference between ribbing and genuinely impacting the way your sibling views themselves and you because of something you did to them. i’m sick of this shit man y’all suck
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wilwheaton · 3 months
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In a long essay about the televised incident, Wheaton makes a lot of salient, emotionally vulnerable points about his reaction to David’s stunt, tying it in to memories of parental abuse he suffered as a kid—pointing out, among other things, that, within the agreed-upon fiction that we all adhere to pretty fervently around all things Muppet or Muppet-related, Elmo is a child. Writing, Wheaton notes that “Elmo is an avatar for children all over the world. Children who are too small to understand Elmo is a puppet will know that a man attacked someone they love for no reason, and that will frighten and confuse them.”
Wil Wheaton condemns Larry David for his Elmo-based violence
This story is a week old, and has blown up today. The right wing smoothbrains are out in force, doing their usual thing, until they get distracted by the existence of a successful woman somewhere in the world and have to go rage against that.
I don’t know why this is happening today. I don’t know why right wing clout chasing incels have decided to make this their Thing today. It’s all very confusing, especially a week after the fact.
But I want to put something here that I added to my post on Facebook, that those dudes (it’s always dudes whose entire personality is “MONSTER ENERGY DRINKS!”) need to hear but won’t understand:
A lot of us who had the same visceral reaction to a grown man putting his hands on a child (Elmo is 4 years old) in anger, without consent, and then laughing about it all share an experience that you should be grateful you don't share with us. And when you say your shitty little toxic and cruel thing, when you reduce the whole thing to a puppet and a joke, you're doing to us what the adults around us did when we were kids. And it hurts all over again. Are you really someone who wants to hurt another person simply because you can? Maybe take the impulse to be a jerk and redirect it into being grateful you have no idea why this is so upsetting to so many of us.
Larry David put his hands on another performer, without consent, in a segment he was not part of. That, alone, is not okay. It is not EVER okay. The fact that so many people don’t get that, or are deliberately choosing NOT to get that, is telling.
But as I said, Elmo is a child, and he is a friend to children, so all the kids whose parents were watching the Today Show with them, because Elmo was on to talk about sharing big feelings and caring for your mental health, got to watch this man storm into a set, and angrily attack Elmo.
That’s indefensible behavior, and calling me names doesn’t change that.
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sttoru · 9 months
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dad toji x reader grocery shopping with baby megumi
ෆ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. you’re gumi’s mother.
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“look at your mama, kid.” toji grins as he lazily pushes your shopping cart forwards. you were walking a few steps ahead to grab some necessities, leaving the father-son duo behind, “she’s so damn beautiful, ain’t she?”
megumi was seated in the baby-seat, babbling and cooing just by hearing the familiar word ‘mama’ spill from toji’s lips. the simple mention of you gets your little son feeling all giddy on the inside, even if his limited vocabulary doesn’t allow him to fully grasp what his dad was saying.
at one point, you seem to have wandered a bit too far ahead. toji and megumi were three aisles behind you, which you didn’t even notice because you were too busy going through your grocery list.
“oh, no, what’re we gonna do?” toji playfully puts on a worried expression as he pokes his son’s chubby cheek, “we lost mama.” and as if on cue, megumi’s smile turns upside down. he couldn’t understand what his father was saying, though seeing that (fake) worried expression on his parent’s face was enough to make him burst out crying.
“hey, hey,” toji immediately tries to calm megumi down by ruffling his hair gently, “i was just jokin’, but eh— guess you don’t even know what that means, do ya?”
you immediately rush back to see what occured once you heard the familiar cries of your child and see your husband trying to soothe megumi. toji was now holding onto the baby, one hand on the back of megumi’s tiny head while the other was slowly patting his lower back in a soothing manner.
“what happened, love?” you ask worriedly as you walk over to the two. megumi seemed to have calmed down in his father’s embrace after a few moments. in fact, your son had completely forgotten his sadness the second you were visible to him again.
toji shrugs and scratches his cheek, “i was just jokin’ with the kiddo, but i guess he doesn’t like his daddy’s humor.”
you sigh and hold yourself back from giving toji an earful in the midst of the store once you realised what probably happened.
if the man’s not teasing you, he’s teasing his child. you don’t know how many times you’ve scolded your husband for making megumi cry on accident due to his jokes. it’s quite literally impossible to get him to understand that megumi is too young to pick up on social cues. it’s either that or toji simply acts like he doesn’t understand.
it was most likely the latter since you know that toji always loves getting reactions out of the people he teases;
“toji—” “yeah, yeah, i know. i won’t do it again, babe.”
oh, he most definitely will.
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DPXDC prompt ~ Honor to Us All ~ Gotham as one true the most haunted city edition
~~~~~
Instead of a welcoming banner in front of a city was an old column, so familiar to a boy, with a warning inscription:
"To outsiders mad enough to attack Gotham: You will be forced to understand that dead soldiers will also go into battle. And having risen to protect, they will be ready to perish all again, So no one of the living would die near them."
Danny smiled with love. 'I’m home, Mother.' Ghost whispered into the void. And Gotham answered.
~~~~
Danny: My Lady, I brought you the crown of Pariah Dark. And The Ring of Rage. They’re gifts to honor the Gotham family. Lady Gotham: The greatest gift and honor is having you on my side, child.
~~~~~
Danny Fenton was born in Gotham and lived here until his parents decided to move. The city didn’t accept them.
'When I die, I want to be one of the Gotham Knights.' Little Danny with pride and eagerly reported to his parents after visiting the Battle Glory of Gotham Museum on a school trip. This evening, Danny learned that not all his plans should be told to his parents.
Danny know his parents are crazy about ghosts. and that all ghosts are "bad". But obviously, the ghosts they talk about, and his, or rather Gotham's, ghosts are completely different creatures. The spirits of the defenders are those who, even in the darkest of times, make the shadows of the Gotham a protection to the citizens.
But that knowledge is his little secret for now. Because if he starts arguing he’ll be punished and he won’t be able to run off to the roof where he’s arranged to meet Robin. Robin’s cool! He works with one of the 'still-living' knights. And he knows more about the city than anyone. Danny doesn’t want to offend his friend.
~~~~~
Mr Lancer doesn’t understand why the lecturer about ghosts, Constantine, after seeing Danny, said something about the bloody gothamites and their inability to stay underground. It wasn’t nice at all. Mr Lancer doesn’t blame Mr Fenton for smiling at the man a little aggressive and viciously. Poor boy probably didn’t know how to respond to his behavior. Danny moved to Amity Park a long time ago and did not stand out at all. So what was this man’s problem?
Danny only half dies because Lady Gotham blessed him when he was a child. So when Danny sees snow-white hair and glowing green eyes in the mirror, he is not frightened but surprised that the Lady protected him even though he is not living in Gotham now.
~~~~~
Danny knows gothamites don’t consider that Gotham is a part of the USA. Even their Metropolis neighbors are just pathetic cowards, unable to withstand the hardships of life. No, really. Why the hell would they be patriots of the country that thinks they’re its dirty secret? This opinion is shared by old ones and children, rich ones and residents of Crime Alley, heroes and villains.
Danny loves Gotham. And he likes local jokes about how if one of their supervillains ever took power enough to threaten the government, he would be obliged to release them from that citizenship. Otherwise, he would be shamed and ridiculed by the inhabitants.
Phantom is not a villain. But for Gotham? For their common purpose? He is ready to pretend to be.
~ A ghost can bring his city ~ Great honor in one way ~
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Gothamites remember that the child of mad scientists was the only person Boy Wonder was willing to call a friend. They remember how boys' laughter was heard from rooftops and from alleys on particularly dark nights. And they know whose restless spirit has returned to mourn the death of the second Robin.
The boy’s parents must be fools. Many outsiders are. They call their blessing a curse. People die in Gotham. And not all of them come back. Residents know that these ones are chosen by Lady Gotham herself.
The public enemy of Amity Park number 1? What nonsense. He is not theirs anything! In Gotham they will accept the Phantom as a guard, as a silent shadow, as a villain or a hero. In any kind. Because he belongs here. He should be part of their dance between life and death. He should be amidst dark alleys and acid rains, gliding between fear and laughter in the air.
Even local villains experience strange yearning. Like something’s wrong. Like a piece of a puzzle that’s lost. Therefore, the local abandoned observatory is empty, and none of them is in a hurry to call it their territory. Because it will be in demand, it will be loved and needed. It’s only a matter of time.
Let the spirit of Gotham guide you home, child. Dead gothamite is still gothamite. Which means there will always be a place for you.
~~~~~
When Danny first enters his favorite cafe in his Phantom form and with a wound on his leg, he doesn’t expect a cleaning lady to yell at him immediately for the blood on the floor. With a mop in his hands and with already bandaged leg, Danny feels as if all his worries had gone. They are not afraid of him. Of course. No one in Gotham would avoid him because of glowing eyes and sharp teeth. And that’s nice.
The waitress throws a tray of food on a table next to him: Welcome dinner for the wandering son of the alley. Red Hood said it's your usual order. He’ll be waiting for you on the gargoyle. You should know which one.
~~~~
If parents listened to his childhood stories about good ghosts, they would know that the Phantom is not special. He is not an anomaly of ghost nature and not a mistake. He is one of many who always were and will be defenders of the city. Danny stands in front of the costume that he admired years ago. He's ready to take another shift at work. The remains of his colleagues can rest quietly this night. Lady will wake them only when in dire need.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 3 months
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Things Simon Loves About You
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Warnings: Fluff <3, Cosy Headcanons, Simon Being a Hypothetical Animal Crossing Enthusiast, Jealous! Simon :3, Simon Being the Best Boyfriend, Spoilers for Simon’s Backstory, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
He’s secretly enamoured with the way you’ll gently pluck a fallen eyelash from his face and tell him to make a wish on it. The first time it happened, you had to explain to him what this odd ritual meant, what it entailed. You shushed him before he tried to make his wish out loud, telling him with haste that it won’t come true if he told you what it was. When he blew the eyelash from your fingertip, all he could do was look at you and think: ‘but it already came true’.
Though it initially worried him, he loves that you go to sleep late — especially when he finds you zonked out on the sofa, TV on, remnants of your midnight snack escapade scattered across the coffee table. It means he has an excuse to pick you up and bring you to bed, holding you close to him all the while. Most nights, he just stares at you, watching you, wondering how he got so lucky to even have someone exist in the same house with, never mind you.
Nobody likes arguments — especially Simon. Having grown up in an abusive household, they were commonplace in some form or another. But, when he argues with you, he knows that it can easily be fixed. Especially if it’s over something minimal like laundry or cleaning — it gives him the excuse to seek you out and utilise his ultimate love languages: gift-giving and physical touch. Sure, he’ll give you a quiet, verbal apology, too, but his efforts shine through in the way he opens himself up to you, pulling you into a warm hug and not letting you go for as long as you’ll let him.
He loves the nicknames you give him: especially the funny ones. You’ve called him Semen Demon before now — completely unprompted. He couldn’t help but give a deep chuckle, saying “What are you like,” before turning back to what he was doing. This worked a competition between the two of you to see who could create the most cursed nickname for the other.
It’s still going on ‘til this day.
He lives for the inside jokes the two of you have, like a dialect only you know. It makes him feel like he’s truly part of something… normal. Sure, he has the 141, by they are bound in the blood of their profession, not by the sanctity of love. Not the kind of love you two have. He loves it even more when everyone else looks confused when you mark a reference onto you two understand; it makes him feel like you’re talking to him and only him. For the first time, he feels like someone sees him.
He loves when you listen to his music suggestions. It makes him feel like his opinion matters — like what he says matters.
He loves the music you listen to, too. Not even because he likes the songs themselves, but because he knows, somewhere between their instruments and vocals, you have found enjoyment, like a coveted treasure. And that's what brings him enjoyment when listening to them.
Simon’s always been a light sleeper. A trick he learned in childhood. So when you prod him awake to spill your thoughts to him, he’s immediately all ears. And he loves everything you say, no matter how banal or nonsensical. Even when you tell him your worries, his heart swells with the fact that you trust him enough with your perils. That you think, even for a second, that maybe he can fix them.
And he would. Before time can catch him, he’ll do whatever it takes to ease your worries, to destroy them.
He loves that he gets to show you off to the 141 — like a child with an arts and crafts project. He’s a secretive man, but he won’t hesitate to make light of the fact that his partner is absolutely stunning, intelligent, hilarious, loyal, understanding—
You see where this is going.
He even loves how jealous they all look when they see you wearing one of his shirts in all your unfiltered glory, wishing them a good night while you bid Simon his own – a special one. A kiss. Just on the forehead. But a kiss all the same.
He’s dazed for the rest of the evening, trying to hurry his friends uut the door so he can come to bed and see you.
Lazy morning cuddles !!!!!
He’s recently gotten into video games because of you, too.
Secretly a big fan of Animal Crossing. He absolutely would have been one of those people to try and buy Raymond from anyone willing to sell him back in 2020 .
Likes any games that are life simulators. Simple ones — free of life’s stresses.
Loves Harvest Moon. And the Sims (Sims 2 is his favourite).
Although, when he found out you can romance other characters, he felt a bit bad because he felt like it would be cheating on you. Until he found out that you were already leading many a double life on those same games. The moment he found out you’d been romancing a collection of pixels and shapes, he picked you up, slung you over his shoulder and dragged you to the bedroom to “Teach you a lesson.”
All in all, domestic life with you is better than anything Simon could have hoped for. So long as you’re with him, he’s living a life he’s only ever dreamt of. And so help the person who tries to wake him.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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AU of my Gotham/Tim Drake! Danny where Danny doesn’t know any knowledge beforehand about the DC universe.
Danny doesn’t know how he got here, but the fact that he now shares something in common with Vlad other than their technical halfa status disgusts him
His new name is Timothy Jackson Drake. It’s so far removed from Danny that his parents had him examined for deafness because he didn’t respond to it. He got better at it, at putting on the mask Janet and Jack Drake wanted to see. So they took him to the circus.
He meets Dick Grayson. Danny thinks the kid is adorable, even if Danny himself is technically younger. He sees the flying Graysons fall. The buzzing in his head doesn’t go away.
He’s five, when the fading spirit of Gotham reaches out and pleads her King to protect her city in her stead. She is fading. He says yes, because she’s one of his. The buzzing in his head settles and oh because that’s what’s been missing this entire time. Danny didn’t have a haunt and Gotham gave him one.
He grieves when she dies, the new title settling around small shoulders, and the city grieves with him. In the city proper, Batman and Robin are having the worst night of their lives in the sudden storm.
He’s nine. Robin is Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson, in turn, is an idiot. Batman… well, he’s at least mentoring and protecting the child vigilante, which is more than Danny ever had. He grows fond of them. How could he not, when they tried their hardest to help his city? To help him?
He shows himself, to the duo, in his Phantom form. It’s still him, still modeled after Danny Fenton’s face instead of Tim Drake’s. Ghosts are a reflection of the soul, after all.
“Who are you,” Batman demands, shielding Robin with half a step.
“Gotham.” He replies. Danny wills the city to affirm his claim and the city wraps its arms around the vigilantes. Batman and Robin understands, a deep well of pure knowledge being tapped into in ways they weren’t truly meant to understand.
“…How?”
“Magic,” Phantom says, dry. He tells them of city spirits, and that they can call him in times of dire need.
Dick calls him to help with Two Face. Two Face learns the pain of unmelting ice to the balls.
His core aches when the Bats fight, but Danny knows now that it is inevitable. They’re part of his haunt, his ‘fraid. He knows these things far before they come into fruition.
Dick moves to a sister city. Phantom expands his haunt to Bludhaven because he doesn’t, won’t, ever leave his Robins to themselves.
Nightwing is hopeful, is pleasantly surprised, and very suspicious when he shows up during patrol.
“Gotham…? What are you doing here…? This isn’t, well, Gotham?”
“Satellite City. It is an extension of myself. You were Robin, yes. You’re Nightwing, now. But that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you when I can.”
Phantom goes back, and finds a kid trying to steal tires to make a living. He guides his Knight to him. The starved features, the bones Danny could see, it tugs at his core. It feels like the Ancient of Fate themselves were pulling him along.
“How’d you know I was taking the wheels?”
“Gotham.”
“Are you… high on shrooms or something?”
Bruce sighs. Batman asks Gotham to meet the new Robin, and chuckles when Jason is surprised by the glowing green figure.
Phantom hides this Robin just as much as the last one. He curls shadows around his vigilantes, sometimes at the same time, and softens what little sounds they made while stalking through his city for crime.
He makes small jokes with Jason. Danny forgets, a little, the crushing loneliness of being Timothy Drake.
“I didn’t kill Garzona!”
“You-”
Batman stops as a chill he’s never had experienced directed at him weaves around his neck. An angry Gotham.
“He didn’t kill him.” Danny slides a cold hand on Jason’s shoulders.
But the damage had been done and the next day, Batman is begging Danny to tell him any clues of where Jason had gone.
“Ethiopia.”
He clears the way for Batman to get to Robin. He clears the way for Bruce to get to Jason.
He’d fallen into the trap of believing that Batman would handle everything when in the end, he’s just a man in a mantle that demands more than he ever thought he’d have to pay.
Robin is dead and Danny grieves. The skies crack open and pours a torrent of smogged rain water upon the streets of Gotham. Despite that, Crime Alley is untouched by flood. They say the second Robin was protecting his home.
In a way, it’s not wrong.
Gotham fishes Batman from the bay, carelessly tossing the broken Joker against a shipping container.
“You can’t keep doing this. You’ll die.”
Bruce, Batman, lays on his back, eyes glazed and empty. “Maybe I want to.” He admits. And Danny can’t lose someone else. It’s already bad enough he feels the death of everyone in his city, he can’t lose him too. But Dick won’t come back. He already denied Gotham when Phantom had asked him to come back. Granted, Dick was nervous about denying him the entire time, but Danny realized that he’d lost a brother in the colors his parents chose for Dick. Danny- Phantom had cradled Dick in a swaddle of shadows and comfort.
“Alright.”
“Is it? Alright? I- I don’t want to fail you, Gotham.”
“It is. You’ve always made me proud. You will always make me proud. Whether it be by different name, it matters to me not. Stay. Heal.”
Like Dick was given permission, like he received a hint of peace, Dick Grayson crumpled to the floor and sobbed into Gotham’s shoulder.
(Later, long after Dick Grayson realized his little brother was also his city personified, he cries again into Tim’s shoulders after the later dropped a flower pot perfectly on top of Catalina Flores’ head.)
Gotham, Phantom, Danny makes a choice.
“Tomorrow, a child will show up at your door. You will let him in.”
“No- I can’t. I won’t.” He knows what Danny will ask of him.
“You will.” Danny doesn’t ever do it with his people, with his city, but dire times call for dire actions. It is an order. And Batman is Gotham’s knight. “You will. You will train him. You need a Robin to leash your brutality. I need a Robin, for Robin is my hope. The city’s hope. Our people’s hope. Do not forget the goal you have set out to accomplish in my city.”
Batman rages at him, until he falls unconscious from the wounds he’s gathered. Danny brings him home. He tells Alfred what to expect tomorrow. Bruce wakes up, eyes fixated on the crack that appeared on Danny’s neon green face. “Did. Did I do that?”
Danny nods slowly.
Batman crumples into Bruce Wayne. “Okay.” He says. “Alright. Tomorrow.”
Gotham watches him, unreadable. “Tomorrow.” He says, before fading away.
Tim Drake shows up at the door. Nightwing shows up not long after. Tim Drake adapts to Bruce Wayne’s cold looks and brutal training. Slowly, but surely, he leashes in Batman’s grief fueled brutality and less criminals go to prison with half of their lives beaten out of them.
Batman doesn’t see Gotham as much anymore. He feared that he’s angered his city, that he is no longer welcome.
When Tim figures it out… he allows the roads and the shadows to help Batman once more.
Batman stared intently at the extra coverage. “Thank you,” Tim hears him whisper. “I’m sorry.”
And when Jason Todd comes back to life and attacks Tim in the tower, Tim lets Hood beat him. Gotham had failed him, as Jason’s city. He deserves it. (He doesn’t but Danny had gone past the point of being healthy about his own physical wellbeing. Perhaps being a city spirit this long had affected him, even with the King’s title mitigating the worst of the damages.
“HE REPLACED ME!”
“Because I ordered him to.” Tim whispers, past the pain of a broken leg.
“You? Order Batman around? If you’re going to lie, make it a better one, Replacement.”
Tim catches Jason’s wrist, the one holding the knife to Tim’s throat.
“Robin,” he says simply, allowing Gotham to come out and peer at the child that is his.
Jason stares, disbelieving. Gotham had… Gotham had come by and approved of his plans to clean up Crime Alley. Gotham had extracted a promise not to damage the buildings.
“No.”
His city stares back and him and Jason stumbles away. Tim shifts into Danny, into Gotham.
“You…”
“I am Gotham. I- I did not want to wear these colors. They were yours and Dick’s. But Bruce was hurting the city, he was hurting me. So I made sure he stopped.”
Jason stares at the new cracks, the fresh ones he just caused and the old ones he does not remember being on Danny’s ghostly skin.
Jason swallows. “I’m sorry.”
“As am I. I am sorry I was not there to save you. I am sorry that you died.”
Jason stares at him. The Replacement is Gotham. Jason almost destroyed his city.
“I am glad that you’ve returned. That you’re alive, now.”
“…Really?”
“Always.”
Alternative Version of the above Tower Scene:
Jason slides the knife against the Replacement’s neck.
Danny sighs. “I can’t believe I’m dying again.”
Jason pauses. “What the fuck did you just say, Replacement?”
Danny rolls his eyes at him and Jason rethinks his decision of not offing the little fucker right away.
“You think you’re the first one to die in this household? Get a grip. I did it first, way before you did, jackass.”
Tim is 14. He’s a child. What the fuck is Jason doing?
“When…?”
“How do you think I became Gotham, little bird?”
Jason freezes. And then he’s scrambling backwards, the knife flung away in his horror.
Tim shifts into Gotham and Jason bites back a cut of regret and bitterness.
He… no, what? What even is happening?
“Why is the Joker not dead? You… you told me that you loved me. That Gotham… that-”
“I’m cruel, little bird. The Joker would not suffer as much if he were dead.”
“He’s killing people! He’s killing your own!”
“So everyone thinks.”
“What?”
“I am Gotham, little bird. Mass hallucinogenic gasses are so within my reach to the point it is concerning. Perhaps you should help Ivy with the city clean up?”
“Huh?!”
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angelstate · 4 months
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“Unprioritized Love”
Husband!Price x Wife!Reader
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Price is a loyal person, he thinks about everyone else before himself and doesn’t hesitate to do something he normally would be against if it means saving the people he cares for, it truly is a blessing at times, the way his priorities don’t falter…until they do.
because he is a loyal person but does not know or pretends not to know in which situations he should stand by one person instead of the other, it’s conflicting for him to choose someone when another person is also expecting his support.
it hurts a lot when you’re caught in that sort of situation with him, you’re his lover, his companion in life, and the person he returns home to, but you’re also the person he leaves behind for his team, you’re the one who waits around for him while the team gets him almost all the time.
and you know jealousy isn’t healthy, that you shouldn’t resent anyone because it's his job, he has to leave to provide for you, you cannot bite the hand that feeds you, it would be wrong, it wouldn’t be pretty, it wouldn’t be fair for him.
so you bite your tongue and nod like a child when he tells you about his job, about him going away once more, for longer this time. and the tears in your eyes are hard to be held back, because God, it hurts a lot to be left behind, all by yourself. away from your family and your lover, only an empty home to satisfy your basic needs.
He doesn’t mean to be an absent presence, the lack of a lover in your life. He truly doesn’t mean to give so little to you, to not hold you every night. but between his job and you…he knows which one he isn’t choosing even if he doesn’t say it out loud. 
“I'll be back when I can, alright?” he speaks, voice gruff as he looks around the room, his hands on his hips, you stay seated on the couch, knees close to your chest and your eyes glued to the TV for a distraction, is better to pretend you don’t care than to show him how much you are beginning to hate the dynamic he created in your life.
“mhm” you hum in agreement, taking a big breath and holding it in before exhaling through your nose, not trusting that if you open your mouth, a sob wouldn’t escape, Price notices the lack of words from your part, you always have something to say, a small joke to make about him better bringing you a souvenir or something from his “trip” but when this time you don’t speak or even dare to look at him makes him anxious.
“Want me to bring you something?” he asks, taking a few steps towards you, looking towards the TV, a baking program playing, and your focus on the show makes him raise an eyebrow, you aren’t one to enjoy cooking so he doesn't understand why you’re watching it. 
“no thanks” you respond, and the answer makes him feel like he’s done something wrong that made you upset, the last 4 days he’s been home replaying in his mind, trying to remember what could’ve made you get angry with him, nothing comes to mind sadly, and he feels clueless about everything surrounding you. 
“I thought you don’t like cooking” He decides to comment, shifting the conversation to something more banal and easy to speak about. “I started baking almost 8 months ago” you answer him back, voice flat and your eyes strained on the TV, the recipe to make pavlova having your main focus, it makes Price frustrated, how you won’t look at him, won’t give him the time of day when he’s leaving tomorrow.
you don’t expect him to know how your life develops and the things that change when he's away most of the time, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to pay you attention when he already has a tough and complicated job to do, his salary pays for the kitchen supplies and food after all. it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to know you... god, how stupid is that?
“You didn’t tell me” Price states, his voice carrying a heaviness that reveals he is irritated about not being told something he should’ve known if he paid attention to the new things in the kitchen like the stand mixer next to the electric oven. 
“I thought I mentioned it when I gave you to try the brownies I made yesterday” you retort, your eyes landing on him for a second before returning to the TV, your gaze isn’t welcoming or warm and it creates a pit on his stomach to see you so detached and unresponsive to something he knew should make you upset.
It brings a sort of heaviness to his chest as he notices he doesn’t have the right to feel offended about not being told something when you should be upset about him not noticing in the first place something that occurred in his own home. It is hypocritical and he knows it.
Price stays silent for a long time, the sound of the TV filling in the silence that was created between the two of you, he feels out of place, not knowing how to answer you, what to do, what is the problem he feels he should be fixing right now.
“you should start packing” you comment after almost five minutes, and that phrase is said with a monotone tone, not one of sadness or a little bit of frustration that he’s leaving again, it's a tone that just states the obvious, you declare that he should pack his bag once more because otherwise he would leave with nothing for his mission and that wouldn’t be optimal.
“Can you help me pack?” He asks for a favor you often offer without him mentioning wanting your help. tonight you don’t offer assistance, almost like you aren’t faced by his departure, used to his absence, used to his side of the bed being empty.
“I’m watching TV” you speak and his heart breaks a little bit, you don’t sound apologetic as you often do when you’re not able to help him, and he’s leaving but he feels you left instead, that the girl he married is no longer in the house even though he has you in front of him, too focused on looking at the tv to help him.
he nods at your answer and doesn’t try to persuade you into doing something you don’t want to, it wouldn’t be fair to force you to help him just because he wants you to, it isn’t fair for you to give a hand and for him to take your arm. Loving someone isn’t really fair.
Only when he leaves the living room to go pack do your tears make their way out of your eyes, running down your cheeks as you cry silently, vision too blurry to even distinguish the images on the TV, it feels almost pathetic to be crying alone, your lover packing to leave and not be able to bring yourself to help him abandon you once again.
If you were his pet it would be abuse for him to just leave, but you're a woman and therefore being alone and left behind isn’t unexpected, being the one to stay home is almost an obligation when your lover leaves to provide for you even if you wish they stayed.
you’re not sure how it begins to be fair to be put in this situation, when the missions of 4 weeks turned into 4 months. When knowing everything about each other turned into barely remembering anniversaries and birthdays.
You don’t want to say the relationship fell apart because you doubt there’s anything at all to be destroyed anymore, you love him though, the pain in your chest and the tears falling from your eyes are proof of that, but you are not sure John loves you.
It’s uncertain how he views you after not spending time together for almost two years, you doubt there is nothing more than just an acknowledgment of your existence in his life, a statement that he knows you're his partner but not enough love to call you his lover.
“Why are you crying darling?” the sudden voice of Price pulls you out of your thoughts, the place next to you on the couch sinking as he takes a sit beside you, resting his elbows on his knees while his eyes examine your expression, you look utterly distraught about something, your breathing uneven and shaky as you begin to sob loudly, unable to talk as all your emotions came crashing down.
and the sight of you crying, digging your nails into your thighs, and being desperate for a peace that will not come, makes a heavy feeling of guilt and worry sit on his shoulders, wrapping an arm around your waist and another under your knees, bringing you into his lap and putting your face on the crook of his neck while you cried, sobs muffled against his skin, your tears wetting his shirt.
“take a deep breath love” Price says in your ear, your breathing so erratic that it makes him worried you will suffocate at some point because of the lack of oxygen in your body, he feels your chest against him as you do as he told you, taking deep breaths the best you can, trying to calm down for your and his sake.
you’ve never been one to cry with so much despair, to need his comfort in times of need because you managed well on your own, he was never around to solve your sorrow either so why bother? But today, he is the reason you're crying and it seems fair that he is the one to comfort you, that your only chore is to cry and keep your breathing somewhat stable while he does everything else to fix what he broke.
He doesn't know where to begin though, unaware of where he stands or what he should do to bring peace into your mind, what words will fix his mistake, and what words will tear you apart even more, he doesn’t want to cause you harm, not consciously, not right now. it wouldn’t be fair to you, it wouldn’t be fair to your heart, it would be cruel. and he doesn’t want to be cruel to you, not anymore.
“I’m sorry love…I should’ve been good to you” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, rocking you back and forth on his lap, soothing you like he would to a child, his voice low and soft, his hand caressing your thighs in a comforting manner. 
“I don’t know why I didn’t notice that you started baking, it was wrong, I didn’t notice you when I should’ve noticed every change you’ve had over the last two years” he continuous, speaking out the guilt he carried in his chest the moment he saw you and heard you break down into tears, your sobs engraved in his mind.
“I’m really sorry for missing out on all of this when I was gone, I shouldn’t have been such a bad husband, you don’t deserve that” he sighs, his eyes stinting a little bit from the tears beginning to form, and your calmer now, sniffling and whimpering, the tears slowly stopping, but it seems that your distraught was transferred to him because he doesn’t feel at ease, he feels the guilt eat him alive while he soothes you.
“I don't want you to leave…” you mumble, adjusting on his lap, your head resting against his chest, you have never wanted him to leave home, to go on missions for months on end with little to no contact with your lover, it feels like you're mourning him every time he goes away and doesn’t give you a small message to let you know he wasn’t killed.
“I know sweet girl” he replies, he doesn’t want to leave either, he never wants to, even though he continues to do so. It's a complicated situation, one he doesn’t dare to think about too much because he’ll end up ripping his heart out, his loyalty not being able to distribute equally for you and his team, always the latter winning even if he doesn’t dare to admit it.
he wants to promise you he’ll return quickly this time and will take a leave just to spend time with you, to dedicate more time to what's left of your relationship, he doesn’t want your marriage to fail, you’re the only woman he wants, the only one he had ever seen himself grow old together, he doesn’t want to let that go because of his own stupid and selfish mistakes.
He has to leave tomorrow, but when he’s back he’ll fix everything.
“I'll be back soon” he mumbles against your hair, face buried in it as breathes in your smell, trying to engrave it in his mind, to not forget this time details about you he has always loved. 
Thankfully, his promise becomes reality, and after two weeks of loneliness that have never felt heavier on your chest, he returns, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a smile on his lips, happy to see you, to see the warmth and loving gaze you always give him back in your eyes after all this time.
He steps through the door, your face pressed against his chest, refusing to let go of him, fearing he would leave even if it wasn’t unreasonable, he had returned early for you, he had seen his mistakes and was fixing what never should’ve been broken
Peace is restored in your home, love is flourishing once again in your marriage, and whatever plans you had made to start over get discarded, you’re already having a fresh start, one that doesn’t involve leaving your lover. this time is a start with a more conscious man who is ready to do everything right by you, to never let his job affect the way he loves you. He's learning that his wife comes first, that his life outside of the military also has the same and more importance than his job.
(little reminder: I'm taking requests if you want me to write something specific xx)
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month
Text
Accident II
Pernille Harder x Child!Reader
Fridolina Rolfö + Ingrid Engen x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Potty training at Wolfsburg
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“This,” Moster Frido says to you,” Is a potty.”
You blink at her, sitting on the floor of the Wolfsburg break room. You go back to playing with your toys.
“Hey! This is important!” Frido says, trying to draw your attention back but you keep ignoring her.
“She’s not stupid,” Pernille laughs from the sofa,” She knows what the potty is. She has one at home.”
“Well, now she’s got one here too.” She whistles like you’re a dog but you still don’t give her the time of day, instead standing up and wandering over to where Ingrid is on the phone with her mother.
You pull on her shorts and she hefts you up onto her hip without question.
“I thought you were trying to potty train her,” Frido complains,” You can’t do it just at home, you know.”
Pernille rolls her eyes. “One step at a time, Frido. It might freak her out a little to do it here. We’re taking it at her pace.”
Frido huffs but drops her questioning as you play with the ends of Ingrid’s hair. Your girl-swan hangs in your other hand and you swing it around as Ingrid talks.
Your potty training has been slow going. Sometimes you just refuse to cooperate even when Pernille swaps your nappies for pullups. You just don’t want to use the potty sometimes.
But she can see you start wriggling in Ingrid’s arms and she knows if you were standing then you’d be doing your potty dance. She sighs, standing up and grabbing the potty Frido had bought for you.
“Princesse,” She calls and you turn your head to look at her (much to Frido’s annoyance),” Do you need to use the potty?”
You think for a moment. “No, Momma.”
“I think you do.”
“No.”
Pernille sighs and Ingrid instantly offers you to her. You whine when you’re transferred to Pernille, reaching to grab onto Ingrid, who you know won’t force you to use the potty.
You don’t like using the potty at training. You don’t know why but you just don’t. You don’t really like using it at home either but Momma told you all big girls use the potty and you really want to be a big girl in time for Morsa's next visit even though you’re still little and everyone is taller than you.
“Yes.”
Momma takes you into the toilets and sets your potty down in there. You feel better now that you don't have to go potty in front of moster Frido and Ingrid. Thinking about going potty in front of them makes you shy and makes your tummy go all wavy.
You don’t like the potty much at all but you like it better when there’s no one but Momma helping you go.
You still don’t like it though.
It becomes a bit of a joke around the Wolfsburg girls in the following weeks. Your refusal to use the potty unless Pernille makes you is a bit funny.
Whenever she asks, you gain the biggest pout and you whine and try to fight it until she plucks you from where you’re sitting and takes you to the toilets. She tries to set you on a proper toilet a few times but you’re still very little and you cry because it feels like you’re about to fall in.
Momma never tries that again.
But she does keep insisting on the potty whenever she can. Sometimes you can get away with it but as soon as she notices your potty dance, it’s straight to the potty with little fanfare.
You think you can get away with it today.
Momma’s in interviews all day so you’re sitting in the break room with Frido and Ingrid. Ingrid’s nice, you decide. She’s not Swedish like your moster and Morsa and she’s not Danish like Momma is. She’s Norwegian which is near Sweden and Denmark, she tells you, so she speaks Norwegian which is kind of similar to your other languages so when she speaks it, you can still kind of understand what she’s saying.
Ingrid’s nice though or, she was until she notices your potty dance.
“Do you need to go to the toilet, y/n?” She asks sweetly and you freeze where you’re sitting playing with your toys.
You shake your head.
“Are you sure?”
You nod.
“Okay, then.”
For some reason, Momma’s put you in big girl underwear today. She doesn’t usually but she has today and that’s a little weird but Momma says you’re growing up now and you assume wearing big girl underwear is part of that.
Ingrid doesn’t mention the potty again even though you keep wiggling around as you do your potty dance. She just lets you keep playing.
Moster Frido is the one that mentions it though.
She sees your potty dance too.
“Are you definitely sure you don’t need the potty?” She asks you and you shake your head again.
“No potty, moster,” You say even though your wiggling is getting more and more aggressive. You don’t want to use the potty at training. Potties are only for at home, you decide.
“Okay,” She says. She stands and your eyes follow her to the sink. She turns on the tap, leaning against the counter.
The water pours into the sink and moster Frido looks at you.
You look away but the running water makes your potty dance worse. You’re not wearing a nappy or a pull up and you don’t want Momma to get mad at you for having an accident in your big girl underwear.
Ingrid crouches in front of you and you look at her with wide eyes. She’s got a packet of your favourite mini skildpadder. Momma says you’re two little for sweeties but Momma's Momma came over from Denmark to visit and she bought those for you. You love them so Momma usually packs a few in your training bag for when you’ve been very good.
“It looks like you really need the potty,” She tells you, drawing the skildpadder away from you when you try to reach for it,” Why don’t you let Frido take you to the toilet, you go to the potty and you can have this when you get back?”
You think for a moment, trying to reach for it again but Ingrid keeps it from your grasp and your potty dance gets even worse.
“Do you need the potty?” Frido asks sweetly and your cheeks puff out in annoyance.
“Ja, moster.”
She grins at you. “Perfect.” She scoops you up and hurriedly walks you to the toilets where she puts down your potty and helps you pull down your special Wolfsburg shorts.
You are happy that she doesn’t watch you go, turning around to face the door and make sure no one else comes in.
She helps you get properly dressed again and walks you back to the break room. “I’m very proud of you,” She praises as she walks back,” You’re such a big girl now.”
You feel a little shy at that, feeling all mushy and warm that Frido thinks you’re a big girl. When you really miss Morsa, when she’s away with her blue team in London, you like to be with moster Frido. She’s not Morsa but she kind of is sometimes. Not in the ways that Morsa is your Morsa but you can close your eyes and have Frido talk to you in Swedish and it’s kind of like having Morsa with you.
“All good?” Ingrid asks as you both come back in and Frido nods.
Ingrid passes you your skildpadder and you tear into it until it’s all gone. That makes you a little sad but Ingrid and Frido join you on the floor with your toys and you feel better again.
“How about this,” Ingrid says as she plays,” For every time you use the potty at training, you can have a skildpadder? Does that sound good?”
It does sound good. You don’t get to eat them often but you know if Ingrid makes a convincing argument then Momma can’t do anything about it. You tell Ingrid as such and she and Frido both laugh.
“So it’s a deal then, is it, little monster?” Frido asks and you nod.
“Deal!”
“You have to shake on a deal.” She offers you her hand and you shake it eagerly.
You think for a moment. “Potty again, please?”
Ingrid and Frido both laugh.
“Maybe wait until you actually need it again. The skildpadder aren’t going anywhere.”
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wqnwoos · 9 months
Text
joshua hong breaks your heart three and a half times before you can even reach nineteen, and yet you can’t stop loving him with the pieces that remain.
i. the first time ; when you meet
the story of you and joshua starts at the beginning, which sounds pretty redundant, but it’s the beginning in more may than one. the beginning of friendship — the beginning of freshman year — the beginning of something bigger than two fourteen year olds can imagine.
it starts, as you say, at the onset of freshman year. you’re nervous — extra nervous because these kids went to the same middle school, and you’re the stranger, the outsider, the transfer student who nobody knows yet. it’s obvious in the way they talk to each other; gossipping about unfamiliar names, inside jokes only they understand.
and so homeroom begins with ice breakers, and it turns out that you and someone named joshua hong have the same favourite colour and you both like horror movies, and that’s enough for you to think to yourself, that one. i want to be friends with that one.
for a moment, it seems like that sentiment is mirrored. when lunch is called, and you’re stuck in the corner of the canteen, eating lunch alone, joshua hong appears to your side, holding his tray. he smiles at you first, and when he speaks, he speaks softly; you like him instantly, especially when he gets your name right first try, and talks to you about the horror movies you like.
unfortunately, your conversation lasts about five minutes; it’s interrupted by joshua’s actual friends, waving from another table, yelling for him to come join their arm wrestling competition, and someone wants his chocolate milk, and, and, and — because of course, joshua is popular.
he’s also incredibly polite, for a fourteen year old boy, looking between you and his table, eyes torn, mouth twisting. but you make the decision for him; you stuff the last of your food in your mouth — it tastes like cardboard — and you gesture for him to leave, saying, through a dry mouthful, “i’m done anyway, go ahead!”
he leaves then, sending an apologetic smile you pretend not to see. you won’t be pitied, not even by popular guys with nice smiles. but when you walk out the cafeteria, as alone as you were when you walked into it, your silly, young little heart does break a little.
and then it’s glued back together by clumsy fingers the next day. joshua’s in the cafeteria before you, and this time, he waves you over to his table, patting the seat next to him. he introduces you to his friends, who are nice and sweet and funny, and you do like them, you just like joshua that extra little bit more.
ii. the second time ; when you fall, suddenly, completely, absolutely.
by the time junior year rolls around, you and joshua are joined at the hip.
you do everything together. you’re at his house more than your own; his mom calls you the second child she never had; your mom calls him by his nickname; you know his deepest darkest secret, and he knows yours; he’s your favourite person in the world, and as teenagers are apt to do, you’d never willingly tell him such a thing.
“you’re disgusting,” you tell him, whenever he belches, unashamed, on your couch after a horror movie marathon. “you’re the worst!” when he tickles you within an inch of your life, rolling onto the floor with you in a mad tangle of limbs and giggling. “i hate you,” with a smile on your face, when he teases you about a crush or pinches your nose a little too hard.
“you love me,” is always his response — easy, carefree, and the l-word rolls off his tongue so confidently, sometimes you wonder how he does it. but you do love him. as a friend, of course, and nothing more, despite what other people say. at school, people think you’re together — people pull you aside in the locker room, giggling like they’re in on your secret (“so, you like like him, right?”) and nobody believes you guys when you deny it.
“it’s not like that,” you find yourself saying over and over, until it feels like the words are tattooed on your tongue. “he’s just josh, you know?” and he is. he’s just your joshua. nothing more, nothing less, he’s just your person — your best friend.
you manage to convince yourself as well, with those repetitive words, until one day, you find out you can’t.
it’s a sunday, and so of course, he’s singing sunday morning as the two of you stroll down to the park, hands stuffed in your respective pockets. it’s late september, but the dregs of summer are lingering longer this year, and the two of you are drinking them up before autumn rolls around, and strips the greenery bare.
“your obsession with that song needs to be studied,” you say, and it comes easily because you haven’t realised yet.
“your brain needs to be studied,” is his quick retort, as you guys make it to your usual spot.
it’s nothing special, this spot — to an outsider, at least. it’s a crumbling wall to the side of the park, that overlooks a pond (an ugly, swampy looking pond, but a pond nonetheless).
to you and joshua, the deteriorating wall is your Place, with a capital p, because that’s how important it’s become to the two of you. it’s simply. a little bit ugly, but who cares, when you have your whole life stretching in front of you, a wall to sit on, and a best friend to argue over the red gummies with?
“there are five red gummies,” he pronounces, peering inside the pack. “i call dibs on the third!”
“what?” your voice raises automatically. “absolutely not. you had the third one last time.”
“last time there were six!”
“that’s so not fair!” you poke his rib, scowling. “we’ll split it. for justice.”
joshua sighs, long and reluctant, but nods, setting the packet between you — but moments later, when you’ve spiralled down a tangent of cursing out your physics teacher, he swipes down on the third, stuffing it in his mouth with a triumphant, guiltless grin before you can even say stop.
“you’re evil,” you say, slow and shocked, narrowing your eyes at him. “you’re actually fucking evil!”
“sorry,” he says, without the slightest hint of remorse.
“i hate you.” and again, you’re smiling — and so is he, throwing his head back to laugh (because the thought of you hating him is so ridiculous that he has to laugh), and his darn eyes catch the afternoon sunlight at just the right angle, twin pools of honey brown, and you’re drowning in them; and his laughter sounds like music, and his hair’s blowing back in the breeze, and the lines of his face are lighting up golden; and oh, fuck, you’ve forgotten how to breathe.
“you love me,” he says, normally, casually, his ordinary response, but it feels like he’s plucked the sentence straight out your mind, where it had been nothing more than a half-formed sentiment you’d pushed into the corner.
cheeseballs, you think to yourself, breathless, stomach sinking, eyes wide. i think he’s right.
i think i love him, your fifteen year old self thinks, and then your fifteen year old self’s heart breaks.
it’s more painful than the first time. much more.
iii. the third time ; when he leaves (because you push him out the door)
the third time is not like the others. you can’t pinpoint a specific moment; it happens gradually. less of a shattering — more of a slow crushing, like joshua is pressing down on the centre of your chest, slow, heavy, and completely unaware of how blood is spurting from the cracks of your heart.
because he doesn’t know — of course he doesn’t know. and he can’t know now, now that the two of you, as a unit, have become past tense.
you can barely call himself your friend anymore, and it’s entirely your fault.
not even a month after that fateful day in junior year, joshua had gotten himself a girlfriend. and she wasn’t mean and you couldn’t hate her even if you wanted to, she was the sweetest person alive, and had no problem with you; but still, that step did mean other things, like backing off joshua a little. there was another priority in his life now.
they only lasted three months, but it felt significant. it felt like a sign — he’s not yours, he can never be yours, and so even after emily benson and joshua broke up, you kept your distance. then he joined the football team, with seungcheol and mingyu and those guys, and you joined the photography club with wonwoo and seokmin and those guys, and there was suddenly this divide. a line drawn; you were the artist.
because joshua did try, and he definitely tried more than you. he’d invite you over to his house for movie marathons, and you’d decline. he’d wave at you from across the football pitch, and you’d pretend not to see.
you only see his mom in the supermarket now. she still hugs you, calls you her other child. you don’t know what to say to her.
it is, technically, your own fault. self-preservation instincts; because being around joshua hurt like a bitch after that sunday. there was an ache in your heart you’d somehow not noticed for two years, but now that you’d noticed it once, it was there always, a permanent throbbing pain in your chest.
you think of it as losing your heart; you’d given it to joshua without even realising, and he hasn’t realised either. and so the hot, slippery organ is left in his hands, and you don’t know how to get it back.
senior year comes, and it’s clear to everyone that there is no longer a you and joshua. sometimes you get questions about it; “did you guys fight?”, “what even happened? was it emily?”, “did he cheat on you?”, and you answer them all wearily with a smiling front.
just drifted apart, i guess, you always say, paired with a nonchalant shrug, like it doesn’t kill you a little every time you see him.
you wonder what he says, when they ask him. if they even ask him at all.
iii.v half broken, half mended
joshua shows up at your house.
it’s the night before graduation, and if it were a movie, it would be raining when he knocks on your door — but it’s still warm, there’s still faint sunlight behind him, and he’s panting slightly on your doorstep, eyes wide with something you don’t have the time to read before he’s rushing out words, garbled with speed.
you’ve just woken from a nap, and you don’t understand a word he’s saying; you hear a whole lot of “we” and “friends” and before he can get any further, you raise a hand to stop him.
“what — what are you talking about, shua?” you question genuinely, rubbing your sleepy eyes as though this is some sort of twisted dream.
joshua lets out a breath on your doorstep; he looks harried, panicked, like if he doesn’t say everything he needs to, he’s going to explode. but he holds back, inhaling, exhaling, suddenly short of breath at the sight of you, up close after what feels like forever.
“where did you go?” he says finally, and you can hear fifteen year old shua in there, a crack in his voice, emotion leaking into it.
you know what he means, you know exactly what he means, and you don’t have an answer for him. “i didn’t go anywhere,” you reply, voice small. you don’t look at him, because both of you know it’s a lie.
“you did,” he repeats needlessly. “it felt like you left me.”
you don’t have anything to say, and so you stay silent. there are birds chirping, you realise absently, somewhere behind him.
“was there a reason?” his words are growing quicker now, spilling out of him like they’re overflowing; and maybe they are, maybe he’s kept them locked up just as long as you have. “there must have been a reason — you need to tell me, i deserve to know. don’t i?”
his voice is tinged with a sort of raw desperation that pulls at your heart, because no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise, he’s still your shua, he’s still your person, and you can never hate him.
he deserves to know, and you’re too cowardly to tell him.
joshua waits. (he’s always been the more patient out of you two.) “you won’t tell me,” he realises finally, stepping back just once. “god. fuck. i don’t even know why i came.”
he turns, and you blurt three words that halt him in his tracks. you see the way he freezes on the spot, and so you repeat them again, just so he can be sure.
“i love you,” you say, softly, but he hears you. he hears you and turns around, and his pretty doe eyes are round with confusion.
you don’t realise you’re crying until he wipes away the few that have spilled oit the corners of your eyes; he does it delicately, with hands that tremble a little. they’re unfamiliar in their familiarity, those hands, and the feel of them makes you close your eyes.
both of you are breathing shakily. like you’re on the cusp of something new; something bigger.
“how long?” he asks quietly, hands trailing down to cup your cheeks.
you don’t open your eyes when you speak your next words, pouring from your mouth into the space between you. “since we were fifteen.”
joshua’s quiet for a moment, and when you open your eyes, there’s a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, and the ghost of tears filling his eyes. “haha,” he whispers, leaning closer, “i win.” his lips brush against yours, so light and feathery it could barely be called a kiss.
he pulls back, forehead against yours, and smiles, properly this time. “since fourteen,” he says, and it feels like your heart is mended and broken at the same time.
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an / typed this out in an hour of feverish inspiration. idk. 💪
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hazbinwhoree · 3 months
Note
May I request a scenario where Adam and reader are in a marriage and domestic life, like how he is with reader being pregnant, gave birth, and what he is like as a parent?
Is the request OK? This the first time I make a request so please correct me if I made a mistake here.
Domestic Life
A/N: It was easiest to do this in headcanon format.
Adam is far from the perfect husband
But he’s trying, he really is
He has a breeding kink, so it’s not long into your marriage before you got pregnant
When you tell him, he thinks you’re joking
“HAH! Good one, babe.”
You literally have to convince him
Once he believes you, he’s incredibly nervous
Yeah he had a breeding kink but he never really planned on kids
Eventually he comes around
Is actually really doting during your pregnancy
The way he looks at it, you’re sacrificing your body for nine months to bring his spawn into the world so of course he was going to dote on you
You’re incredibly nervous about your due date, knowing child birth was the worst pain a woman could naturally experience, but Adam didn’t really understand your fear
“Think of it like you’re taking a shit but it’s from your vagina.”
Thanks Adam, very helpful
Always comes up behind you later in the pregnancy and locks his hands under your stomach, lifting slightly, taking the weight off your back
The first time he did it you teared up in relief
Adam made a point to do it a lot more after that
When it comes time to deliver the baby, Adam is shocked at the process
There’s so much blood and screaming and Adam is almost one of those dads who pass out
Feels like a dick for not taking your fear seriously
Holds your hand the whole time and stays up near your head
He gets sick if he looks at what’s going on between your legs
Tries to be comforting and encouraging but he’s so bad at it
Eventually shuts up and just lets you squeeze the life out of his hand
He brushed your hair back and off of your sweaty forehead with his free hand
There are complications with your delivery, you lost a lot of blood
You start losing color and becoming sluggish and Adam yells at the doctors
They try to escort him out but he straight up refuses
Adam is terrified not only of losing you, but of being a single parent
He knew without you he would fuck your child up
Luckily for everyone, you pulled through
Adam is more concerned about you than he is his child
Doesn’t leave your side even to cut the umbilical cord
Leaves that to the doctors
But once you’re lucid again you’re asking about your baby and Adam doesn’t have any answers because he was too concerned with you
He doesn’t even know the gender
The doctors bring you your baby and when Adam sees him, your son, in your arms, he falls in love with him too
That doesn’t help the looming thought that he’d be a terrible father though
As soon as he finds out it’s a son, he wants to name him Adam
You allow it
Adam wants to be an active father, he does, but he really is bad at it
If you want him to take any night shifts, you have to wake him up because the baby’s crying won’t
He makes pervy comments when you breastfeed
“Me next?”
Adam is very happy and proud that he has a son
You catch him baby talking sometimes but he’ll always deny it
He doesn’t have too much trouble bonding with your son
He learns to love him as much as he loves you
Almost cries at your son’s first steps
Also denies this
Your son’s first word is “fuck”
You really try to get Adam to clean up his language after that but Adam thinks it’s hilarious
Your baby’s second word is “bitch”
He may not be the best father but he is a loving one
652 notes · View notes
yawneon · 3 months
Note
percy will a s/o that’s always sleeping🫶
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BLUE - NOISE
a/n : this is so bad 😭😭😭
pairing : in love!percy jackson x hermes kid!reader
summary : in which percy jackson has his best birthday yet.
!!! : praying for more reqs, this one is so cute, i try my best 😞, maybe the plot was the friends we made along the way, unspecified demigod reader, book percy, ooc camp, i wanted it to be rainy in camp so ITS GOINF TO RAIN 🤬, the curse of never being able to write alot returns, THIS IS SO BAD
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
people at camp could’ve sworn there had been a mix up in olympus.
you. an hermes child? what a laugh.
you had to be a kid of hypnos. you slept so much, how couldn’t you? genuinely you couldn’t peel yourself off your bed like ever. everyone in camp knew, you were the person in cabin 11 that won’t get out bed if not needed. alcoholics had alcohol, gamblers had casinos but you… you had something far more worse.
you had the (in your humble opinion) the most comfortable bed in all of camp. sure, it wasn’t a 5 star hotel quality but shit was it good.
and more importantly it was the beds fault that you were oh so tired all the time and you just needed to sleep more than half the day.
everyone else couldn’t care less.. your siblings would just give you a small glance before ignoring you because honestly it was more surprising to see you awake! and trust me when you started dating percy.. did this get worse.
whatever you thought about having the best bed in camp was trampled on and thrown over a cliff edge the moment you laid in percy’s bed.
not only was his bed adorned with comfortable sheets and pillows his cabin was quiet.
-
percy didn’t understand however.
how on earth could you sleep when you have the most handsome and amazing boyfriend in all of the whole universe??
he has whined and frowned at you multiple times but you’ve slickly avoided his dramatics by lathering him up with sweet and sappy comments like “im dreaming of you~” that make annabeth and grover cringe at when he goes and boasts to them.
but today,
today you couldn’t avoid the dread of getting out of bed.
-
you stood at the foot of his bed holding a plate of waffles, blue ones. it was far too early for you, (it was 8am) but it was percy’s birthday. you weren’t going to neglect your boyfriend because gods you would never hear the end of it. so you decided to go against your force of nature and got up to whip up a batch of waffles for him.
despite it being the midst of summer rain pelted down against the hard exterior of cabin 3. it didn’t rain usually in camp, the rain would usually just pass right by but maybe the gods were arguing again and the storm was especially hard this day.
sluggishly you drag your feet to stand beside the bed in which percy sleeping.
you wished that was you.
the plate adorning the blue waffles are set down on his bedside table and you place a gentle hand on his shoulder shaking him. despite your (sucky) efforts he doesn’t stir awake.
you grab his arm now with both hands and you shake him harder than before and finally does he grumble awake.
he looks up at you, confused.
“happy birthday, idiot” you pick up and hold the plate of waffles up so he could see them a tired but sweet look on your face. he sits up on his elbows and a dopey smile appears on his face, a very common smile he shines when he looks at you.
“this all for me?” percy sits up fully now taking the plate from you and he smiles bigger now gaining his full conscious. he pats the empty side of the bed next to him and you basically throw yourself into the white sheets.
despite the innate need to sink further in and take ahold of the sleep thats so desperately trying to drag you down you sit up and watch him. “you’re up, today.” percy teases, his shoulder nudging yours.
“just shut up and eat your breakfast.” you laugh softly amused by his jokes.
he begins gobbling the waffles down, scoffing down the cream on top and cleaning the plate of any remains of food. it was actually very impressive how well he ate all of it.
percy’s eyes trail to the window of his cabin his eyes watching as the raindrops pelt down at the glass and the sound of the rain hitting the walls and roof echo loudly.
-
percy places the plate back onto the bedside and looks out the window. “say aye if your in to stay home all day?” he peeks at you, another dopey smile that you just couldn’t resist is painted on his face.
you didn’t even reply to him, your arm snakes around his collarbone and you basically slump him into bed. you both lay on your back and then percy starts talking.
he always did this. percy would talk and talk and talk while you laid next to him, even if you were asleep he would keep going. just the feeling of having you next to him was comfortable so he would talk about all different kinds of things and today wasn’t any different.
you however wanted to listen to him today but oh geez was it hard.
again it wasn’t your fault that his voice was smooth and calming to listen to even of he was talking about how he fell one time and scraped his knee when he was 7. it was like ypur white noise. you already slept a fuck-ton and having a boyfriend with the most sweetest voice was not helping you.
he held your hand as he laid next to you, his eyes tracing every detail of the ceiling as his fingers dance along your palm. he starts telling you all about how his first quest went. a story you’ve heard over.. and over and over again.
“when i started my quest..” blah blah blah.
your eyes shut and all you could focus on was his voice and the noise of water hitting the window panes. his hand was warm in yours and with his free hand percy pulls the covers over the both of you so only your heads were poking out. he slips his arm under your head and his other hand grabs yours again as he keeps rambling on.
before you could fully drift off you turn into him, you could feel his eyes on you as he watches you shift and his words pause for a moment.
“i love you.” he whispers, hoping that you were asleep. you smile into his skin, a clear sign you were still all there.
“i love you too, happy birthday percy.” you half open your eyes you pull his face down by grabbing his cheeks and you kiss under his eye before moving back down.
percy flashes his signature smile before his story changes from his quest to tell you about how on his 9th birthday his mom baked him a blue cake and how it was awesome. you make a mental note to yourself before drifitng off.
you dreamt of percy that night.
let me rephrase that.
you dream of percy.
you dream of him even though he is yours.
his pretty green eyes, his black hair, his sandy skin on the beach. but more often than not you dream of him like how you are now.
cuddled up beside you, warm under the covers as he tells you about all kinds of things like how he thinks the universe was made.
you dream about him dreaming of you which you know he does (since he tells you).
you dream about the way he wants you despite your sleeping routines, you dream about the way he calls you his sleeping beauty.
yet all those dreams are the reality you live. maybe missing a few hours off of slumber isn’t all that bad when your spending it with the boy you see when you close your eyes.
-
@yawneon
418 notes · View notes
Text
Dad headcanons | Leon S. Kennedy
warnings: pregnancy
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I picture Leon being in absolute bliss when you break the news to him. He’ll be laughing while hugging you. He’s never had a normal family, and I believe he would want children of his own. He’ll be so happy he won’t be able to erase a dumb smile from his face for the rest of the day.
Reads lots of articles on parenting and baby development.
A worrywart. One day several noises woke you up late at night and you discovered your husband babyproofing everything in the house. Turns out he was so worried he couldn’t wait til’ the morning.
You have to be very careful about mentioning your cravings because this man is driving in the middle of the storm if that means getting what you want. You’ll have to physically stop him from going out at ungodly hours just because you crave some donuts.
If it were up to him, you wouldn’t even get out of bed. He has to be holding your hand when you use stairs, no matter how many times you’ve tried to convince him you are totally capable of doing it alone.
“What’s next? I’m not allowed to use scissors?”
Your laugh slowly quietens as you notice Leon’s thinking face.
“... I don’t see why you would have to use scissors”
One day he came home with a big present box and when you opened it a german shepherd jumped at you. He got a trained police dog to keep you company. (Not before making extensive research on the best family dogs, of course).
On top of that, he would want to hire someone to help around the house because the thought of you being alone makes him worried sick.
He’s so silly. Talks to your belly all the time. When he comes home he always greets you with “how are my babies doing?”
He goes crazy with baby stuff. Clothes, plushies, bottles, toys, everything he sees in stores ends up in the baby room. The room is so full of stuff you two had to keep some things in the attic. He has promised to stop buying things several times but there’s always something that catches his eye and he has to get it.
“And this is a baby monitor— I know that face, you don’t like it”
“No, I love it, it’s just…”
“Yes?”
“You already bought one of those, love”
“Aha! No, I bought a different one. Now, you see, the one we had doesn’t had all the features this one has…”
Strikes me as the kind of guy who would want to wait a bit before telling people about the pregnancy… However, he ends up spilling the beans two or three times. Also, people kinda catch onto it because all he talks about is about children’s development.
Sometimes you wake up at night to find your lover lying awake, watching at the ceiling. Truth is, he can’t help but worry about your child’s future and spends hours thinking about it; but when you ask him what’s keeping him up, he always answers that the excitement of becoming a dad won’t let him sleep.
Will do the impossible in order to be with you during the delivery. He has warned his superiors months in advance that he needs to rest during the days when is probable the baby is coming. In the worst case scenario, where he isn’t able to make it in time, he is gonna be regretful for a very long time.
Definitely cries the first time he holds his baby.
He randomly wakes up at night and goes to check the baby. He’ll sit in front of the crib and stay there for a while, sometimes he picks the baby up and just holds them. Will always give them a kiss on their forehead before leaving.
Converses with the baby. He could be feeding them, or changing their diaper, and he talks to them as if they could understand him. Tells them about his day, how work is going. If you two were ever to argue (which is very rare and, if you do, always with a certain joke air), he is bringing the baby and puts them on his side. He looks at the baby and asks “can you believe this?”
You’ve found him watching baby cartoons not noticing the child is long asleep.
He is beyond cheerful because everytime you are carrying the baby, they raise their tiny arms to his dad wanting to be held by him.
Asks Claire to babysit whenever you two go out on dates.
Which he later regrets because now, everytime the baby sees Claire, they reach out for her. Even if Leon is carrying them. Makes him a bit jealous.
Your baby walks and talks very early on because of how much time Leon spends with them.
Every parent believes their kid is exceptional, but Leon could win the proudest dad competition. As your child grows up, Leon is so amazed by every milestone they complete. “I’m telling you, this child is going places”, he tells you the day your baby learns to roll over.
You mentioned to him once how cute you thought albums were, so now you two keep one for your kid. He takes terrible photos, but you think those are very adorable and keep them in the album.
Takes playtime seriously. He isn’t like those parents who don’t even care about what’s happening and leave at the middle of the game. Tea party? He is wearing his best clothes. Pretending to be spies? Won’t break character. He will be bashful if you catch him tho.
He has this ongoing thing with your child where they try to build the biggest sandcastle everytime you go to the beach.
He always says ‘I love you’ when saying goodbye. Once your child hurriedly kissed his cheek and pretended to leave, but Leon stopped them and said: “Everytime I tell you I love you, I mean it, it’s not just mindless words. Do you mean it?” He knows that, and god forbids it happens, he could not come back home one day. So it’s crucial for him for his child to understand how much he loves them.
It breaks his heart to leave his family so often. On one occasion he overheard your child begging you to talk to their father and ask him to please stop going on missions.
I picture him having a daughter.
The kind of man who takes his daughter to dates. Everytime he brings you flowers, he has another bouquet for his princess.
Your daughter is a performer. She makes up dances and songs and performs in front of you two.
Once, when she was young, she told him she wanted to marry him. He answered he couldn’t marry her because he is already married to you, to which your girl replied “Can I marry uncle Chris then?” Leon hasn’t recovered from that.
Maybe a bit delusional but you two invite over his D.S.O friends for Christmas, Claire and Chris included, and everyone brings a present for your daughter.
He’d like more than one kid, but often worries about what would happen to his family if he ever goes missing, so for now, another one isn’t in the plans.
Lying by your side at night, he sometimes thanks you for the opportunity to have a family.
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kzpearce · 1 year
Text
A LOST KID CALLED YOUR BOYFRIEND “ DADDY ” !! (PART TWO)
ft. zhongli, xiao, kaeya, baizhu, itto, albedo, cyno, dainsleif.
author's note. here they are as promised!! they're clean on this part! still gender neutral reader (i tried to keep it as much as possible.) i want to thank everyone of you for more than 2k notes on my first half THAT REALLY BLEW UP!! i hoped everything they want were included here! i wouldn't be making part three anymore sadly ;( I LOVE YOU ALLLLLL MWAAAAH
just in case you want to see the part one!
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– zhongli
when the child hugged him, his eyes widened. “..dear, i promise you, this is not my child—” he said, wanting to make things clear up for you so that you won’t overthink. 
“hey, zhongli,” you rested your palm on his cheeks to make him look up to you. “it’s okay. i know that and i trust you, okay?”
zhongli smiled. this is one of the main reasons why he loves you. you’re so understanding and seem to be so perfect for him, as if he doesn’t deserve you. zhongli kissed you on your lips despite the child looking at the two of you.
“i love you,” he said. 
“i love you more.” you smiled. “now we go find the child’s parents, okay?” 
– xiao
xiao’s jaw dropped when the little girl hugged him tightly with a cute smile carved on her lips. 
“oh? i thought you don’t like mortals?” you jokingly made your tone serious. “i didn’t know that your dislikes with mortals would make you come inside someone else’s womb?”
“b–but i also have a clear memory and i haven’t done whatever you’re saying—come inside someone else’s womb.” he defended himself, still quite flustered because he got somewhat overwhelmed.
you giggled. “i’m joking, xiao. but you haven’t had…” your mouth mouthed sex, trying to control your language in front of the kid. “with someone..?” you whispered.
“shut it, (y/n).” his face reddened, and you proceeded laughing at him yet found him adorable.
– kaeya
“you–” you tilted your head in confusion. you knew kaeya loved you so much, and he proved it to you that you’re his everything. let’s say you were having trust issues (just quite) when you saw the little girl hugging him tightly.
“there is no actual way that she’s your daughter.” you continued your sentence.
“she is,” kaeya said, looking at the cute little girl. “in fact, she’s my third daughter.”
you also knew that kaeya was a man who tells RIDICULOUS jokes. you glared at him—not just glared—death glare would fit nicely.
“i’m joking, darling.” he kissed the side of your forehead. “you know i couldn’t do that. i love you.”
your lips curved into a smile. you’re very down bad to him, and it’s making you insane.
– baizhu
“dear,” he looked at you sadly, afraid that you might get clouded with your emotions, and you would misunderstand it. “it’s not what you think—”
you smiled, making baizhu’s stomach drop. “i know, i know.” you kissed his head to assure him that you wouldn’t think anything differently.
“i want you to explain this, though..” you added, slightly with a frown.
“i’ve never experienced this until now,” he sighed. “this little girl must be lost and i might look like her dad.”
you smiled. “okay. we’ll look for her parents together.”
his facial expression softened at your retort. you had no idea how much baizhu felt you’re an angel coming from the heavens. he kissed you on your forehead. “alright. i love you.”
– itto
“eh—” his face reddened when the little girl clinged to him. “d-do i look like a father—?”
you shrugged, trying not to laugh.
“are you mad?” he asked. itto didn’t want to show his face. it hinted at a slight terrified look. he didn’t want to lose you.
you shrugged again, refusing to reply.
“t—this is not mine! i—i swear!” he stammered. the panic in his face started to be visible. “i—i don’t even remember liking someone else…”
“i was just joking. of course i trust you.” you laughed, kissing his cheek. he blinked rapidly as his face became redder and redder. 
oh, he looked so cute.
– albedo
“whose child is this?” albedo asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. 
you blinked. “shouldn't i be the one asking? the little girl called you her daddy.”
albedo shrugged. “don’t remember having sexual intercourse with someone else.”
you sighed. you were kinda expecting albedo to give you slight affection just to prove that he wouldn’t do anything like this with someone else, and he only liked you. well… this is albedo for you.
“okay.” you slightly frowned. “let’s find her parents.” 
albedo looked at you, inserted you with a soft smile. “i love you. i hope that clears your mind.”
albedo also knew how to read someone else’s mind. 
– cyno
cyno wasn’t hugging the girl back. 
“why are you ignoring her?” you asked.
“not my child.” he deadpanned. 
“give her affection, you silly.” you laughed. 
“i ain’t going to do something that would make you mad.” he declared. “i love you but you’re kinda hard to please. it’s hard to apologize to you when you’re mad or disappointed.” 
you couldn’t help but laugh. you hugged cyno from the back and kissed his cheek. “i love you too. i’m not going mad, baby.”
cyno smiled, but he couldn’t help but sigh after. “alright.” 
– dainsleif
"too bad. if this is our little girl, she would definitely be spoiled." he sneered, kissing your cheek.
this what made you love him. he's so perfect. you love him and how he makes you calm down. you enjoyed his kiss with a smile, shutting his eyes. 
"you want babies?" you teased.
"as long as they're ours, my love." 
you smiled sweetly, kissing him on his lips. "find her parents. i'll stay here to buy the stuff you need."
"okay, love you." he smiled. dainsleif whispered something to the little girl that made the two of them wave at you as they disappeared to your sight.
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candycandy00 · 5 months
Text
The Doll House - A Nanami x Reader Fanfic Part 1
 Despite your crippling fear of men, your family sells you to the Doll House. Luckily, you end up with the handsome, gentlemanly Nanami as your trainer, and he’s about to show you how great a man can be. 
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Read Geto’s Part Here!
Read Toji’s Part Here!
Read Sukuna’s Part Here!
Read Gojo’s Part Here!
Read Choso’s Part Here!
Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!
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On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.
Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.
AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Nanami’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!
Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Daddy kink. Hair pulling. Oral sex. Fingering. Divider by @benkeibear!
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Ever since you can remember, you’ve had a crippling fear of men. Your father died when you were so small, you have no memories of him. You have no brothers, no uncles you’ve ever met, and you don’t even remember playing with any boy cousins as a child. Throughout your education, you only went to all girl schools. Otherwise, you’ve avoided going out in public as much as possible. 
As a child, your older sister told you scary stories about men being brutish monsters who only wanted to hurt girls. Looking back, you understand now that she was only teasing you. But those stories combined with the fact that you’ve never even had a full conversation with a man before has left you with quite the phobia. 
Even though you’ve watched movies and tv shows and seen men in that context, you’re still afraid of them. The fact that you find lots of fictional men attractive only confuses your emotions even more. You’ve spent years watching animated shows with men way too handsome to ever be real, developing crushes on them because they felt safe.
And your favorite, the one you’ve always been in love with despite him being made of ink and paper, is Prince Sebastian. In the cartoon, he’s a tall, muscular, blonde prince who is always a perfect gentleman to the women around him, always there to protect them from danger. Despite being an adult now, you still have a poster hanging on your bedroom wall featuring him. 
Now, you find yourself standing in the welcome room of the Doll House, waiting to meet your trainer. How did it come to this? Just yesterday you were cooped up in your room, playing video games. Then this morning, your aunt who raised you and your sister stormed into your room and announced that she was selling you to the Doll House. You thought she was joking at first. What she was saying was unthinkable! She was rich! She didn’t need the money! Sure, she’s been complaining a lot lately about you staying in your room all day, but you didn’t think she was this angry! 
You screamed, you cried, you made quite the scene. But then she told you that if you refused to sign the contract, she was kicking you out of her house and completely cutting you off. So you could live in a nice house with a rich man, or you could live under a bridge. To you, both options were terrifying. But one was slightly worse. 
If you live under a bridge, how would you watch your favorite shows or play your games? And who knows how many unsavory men would approach you? Dealing with one man would be much better. Or so you’ve been telling yourself since you got here. But… now that you’re here, and there’s a strange man on his way to get you and do unspeakable things to you… you can’t do it! 
You make a run for it, even though you’ve already signed the contract and met the owner, even though your aunt dropped you off and told you not to come back, you run out of the welcome room and into the front lobby, toward the exit. But just before you reach the door, you hear footsteps and voices behind you. One of them sounds like the owner, calling out your name. You’re so startled that you trip and crash to the floor, pulling off a perfectly humiliating face plant. 
For a moment, you just lie there, feeling stunned and defeated, the adrenaline that fueled your brief escape attempt all gone. Tears sting your eyes as you begin to cry, hiccuping pathetically as your shoulders shake. 
“Are you alright, miss?”
At the sound of a male voice, your body freezes up in terror. You turn your head to the side so you can look up. A man is squatting down beside you, holding out his hand. 
“Let me help you up,” he says in a soft voice. 
You blink away your tears as you stare at his face, and you realize something that momentarily shocks the fear right out of you. He looks exactly like Prince Sebastian! That blonde hair, those kind eyes, that muscular shape! It’s like the character just walked out of the tv! You never thought a real flesh and blood man could ever be as beautiful as Prince Sebastian, yet here he was! 
Still stunned, you take his offered hand and allow him to gently pull you up. It’s the first time you remember actually touching a man. 
He hands you a white handkerchief, spotlessly clean, and you use it to wipe your eyes. “Thanks,” you mumble, reaching the handkerchief back to him. 
“My name is Nanami Kento. I’m your trainer,” he says, and you can’t help staring at him. He’s your trainer? Prince Sebastian? Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. But no, you can’t let your guard down! He might be ridiculously handsome, but he’s still a man! 
You introduce yourself in a small, quivering voice. He nods and then calls over the lady working behind the front counter. “Can you take her to my room, please? And make sure she has whatever she needs.”
The lady smiles and nods, then heads back toward the welcome room. “Follow me. We’ll grab your suitcase on the way!”
Numbly, you follow after her. 
************************
Nanami waits until his new doll has left the room, then turns to the owner. “When you said she has a fear of men, I didn’t realize it was this bad,” he says, sighing. “So what’s going on? You normally don’t accept dolls who were clearly forced or coerced into signing the contract. She obviously doesn’t want to be a doll.”
The owner gives a sigh of her own. “Her aunt came and spoke to me yesterday. Apparently she threatened to throw the girl out if she didn’t sign.”
“Coercion,” Nanami says. “Despicable. So why did you accept?”
The owner looks him in the eye. “The aunt said that if I didn’t take the girl, they were going to sell her on the direct market. You know how things work there. It would be like tossing that girl into a lion’s den blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her back.” The owner pauses and sighs again. “I thought that if she’s trained by someone like you, at least it would be like tossing her in there with a sword and a shield. At least she’d have a fighting chance.”
She has a point. The whole situation leavrs a bad taste in Nanami’s mouth though. “So why is she afraid of men? Any past trauma I should be aware of?”
“None,” the owner says. “She’s just never been around men in her whole life. No male relatives. Went to all girl schools.”
“Hmm.”
“And Nanami,” the owner adds, her voice dropping a bit lower, “I know you’re not going to like this, but you’ll have to deflower her. Ordinarily I’d keep her a virgin and charge a premium for her, but in this case I think sending her out so unprepared would be exceedingly cruel.”
He looks toward the door the poor doll had disappeared through. “Only if she agrees to it.”
The owner nods. “Of course. Oh, and stay sharp. There’s something off about this whole thing. Her aunt is wealthy, and she even took half what I would usually offer. She seemed really determined to have the girl trained here. There might be something else going on.”
Nanami looks at the owner. “A punishment perhaps?”
“That’s what I’m thinking. But the contract was signed so we’ll see where this goes.”
*********************
Inside your trainer’s room, you find the place impeccably neat and orderly. There’s a large bookshelf filled with difficult-looking tomes, though you do spot a few fantasy novels you’ve read yourself. The bed is so smoothly made that you wonder if he even sleeps in it. The dresser has several bottles of expensive-looking cologne, and a peek in the closet reveals a wardrobe of stylish, fancy clothes in brands even you, who grew up in a wealthy family, haven’t heard of. They’re probably brands that focus on menswear, something you would be clueless about. 
The lady from the front desk sits your suitcase on the floor beside the closet and smiles at you. “You hit the jackpot, miss. Nanami is an excellent trainer.”
“He is?” you ask, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. 
The lady laughs. “Let’s just say that if I had to pick one of the trainers to be mine, I’d pick him in a heartbeat. He’s respectful and kind, and not to mention handsome. The dolls he trains are always sad to leave!”
That made you feel a little better, and you were grateful to her for trying to put you at ease. “Thanks for telling me,” you say. “That’s really good to know.”
She smiles and nods and leaves the room, and it only takes a few moments for your anxiety to return. Your trainer will be coming in here any minute. He’ll probably make you strip! He’ll make you touch him! He’ll touch you! Even if he’s gorgeous, you can’t handle that! 
You hurry over to the lone window in his room. It overlooks the back parking lot. You push the window up, opening it, and lean out to look down. The Doll House’s structure is elevated a several feet off the ground, but it’s still only one story. The drop doesn’t look too bad. You sling one leg out over the ledge, leaving you straddling the window. Just then, the door opens, and your trainer walks in. 
It only takes him a moment to assess the situation and realize what you’re doing. He rushes toward you, and in a panic you try to jump out, but your other foot catches on the window sill. You fall at a strange angle, reflexively reaching out with one hand to grab the ledge, screaming as you do. Your trainer is quick to action, lunging forward and grabbing your arm. 
Nanami pulls you back in through the window, and the two of you fall to the carpeted floor, you on top of him. Did he purposely turn so that his body would shield you from the fall? His strong arms are wrapped around you, holding you firmly but gently. You look up at him, and he seems upset. You let out a squeak of terror and scurry away from him, backing into the wall, still sitting on the floor. 
He stands up and dusts himself off. Oh no! Did his fancy clothes get dirty? Is he mad now? He looks at you with a strange expression. Something between exasperation and concern. “Before you hurt yourself trying to escape,” he begins, walking over to a polished shelf and pouring what looks like water into a glass, “why don’t we talk?” He steps over and hands you the glass. You take it, then sip the water. 
“Okay,” you say, feeling stupid now as you tuck your knees under yourself. 
“Let’s go over a few things,” he says. “First of all, I’m not going to hurt you. If there’s any pain involved in what we do, it will be thoroughly discussed and agreed upon beforehand. I’ll respect your boundaries. I won’t do anything that you don’t consent to.”
That doesn’t sound so bad. You start to relax just a little. 
“That being said, the more training you receive while you’re here, the easier things will be for you when you’re purchased,” he says. “I’m not here to make you miserable. I’m here to prepare you for the next ten years. It would be to your benefit to experience as many things as possible here, with me, in an environment where your wishes are respected, before you end up with an owner who might not be so patient.”
You know what he’s saying. “You mean, I should have s-sex with you.”
He nods. “That would be my recommendation, yes. But I won’t force you to do anything. It has to be your decision, and you don’t have to decide right away. For now, why don’t we start with something simple, like letting me help you up?”
He extends his hand to you, for the second time today. Earlier, you were so stunned by his resemblance to Prince Sebastian that you took his hand easily. Now, you hesitate, staring at him for a moment before reaching up and letting his large, warm hand envelope yours. He pulls you to your feet, and you end up standing so close you can see his face more clearly than ever. Ahhh, he really is incredibly handsome! 
“Now, is there anything else you’d like to try?”
You blink. “Right now?”
“If you want. Or we can wait until you’ve had more time to adjust.”
You think for a while. His muscular frame looks so inviting. You’re not sure how much you can handle, but you want to try. 
“Would a hug be okay?” 
He seems a little surprised, but he smiles softly at you. “Sure,” he says, before slowly putting his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. It actually feels really nice! And he smells so good! For a brief time, you almost want him to make love to you right then and there. Your brain is filled with thoughts of him picking you up and carrying you to his bed, of him taking charge, pulling off your clothes, having his way with you. The thoughts leave you blushing, and you pull away. 
“That wasn’t so bad,” you tell him as he gestures for you to sit in a plush chair beside a table. 
“When the training begins, there will be some rules,” he says, sitting down in a matching chair on the other side of the table. “You are to refer to me as ‘Daddy’ at all times. If you misbehave, I’ll punish you. But, as I said, that’s something we can discuss and ease you into.”
You feel your heart pounding rapidly. Calling him Daddy? Punishment? It sounds terrifying, but also strangely hot. You’ve watched porn before, so you know a little about daddy kinks. You’ve always been kinda turned on when the man calls the woman “good girl”. You just never imagined, in your wildest dreams or nightmares, that you would end up in a situation like that. When you watched porn, it always felt distant, like something happening in another world. You’ve even masturbated to it, still never once imagining yourself in those positions. Men in “real life” were far too scary. 
“I’m going to leave the ball in your court,” he says. “You can tell me when you’re ready to officially start the training. Until then, I’ll keep a respectable distance and let you get accustomed to being here.”
His words are very reassuring. You can feel your anxiety beginning to melt away. Maybe, just maybe, you can get over your fear with a gentleman like him. 
That night, Nanami sleeps on a borrowed futon on the floor, giving you the bed. You feel terrible about that, but also relieved. While a small part of you was excited by the prospect of sharing a bed with him, a much bigger part was scared out of your mind to be in such close proximity to a man all night long. 
For three days, nothing really happens between you and your trainer. You do feel slightly more comfortable with him, sharing a room and a bathroom will do that, but aside from a couple more hugs and some accidental brushing of elbows, he hasn’t touched you. Deep down, you’re a little disappointed by that. 
You accompany him to the dining hall for meals, and you’ve met the other trainers. Most of them stay away from you, even as Nanami introduces them. You figure he’s informed them of your phobia. Just one of them occasionally comes a little closer than you’re comfortable with: the one named Gojo. He’s friendly and not at all threatening, but he’s still a man. So when he stops by the table you’re sitting at with Nanami, you can’t help sliding away from him a little, which results in you sliding closer to your trainer. 
On your fourth day at the Doll House, you come to a decision. It’s time to face your fears and begin the training! 
You wait until after dinner to tell Nanami. He’s standing at his dresser, loosening his tie in a way that makes you extremely weak. He occasionally makes polite conversation with you, but oftentimes he simply reads for a while before showering and going to sleep on the futon. Tonight, you approach him at the dresser. 
“Um, I think I’m ready to start now,” you say, your voice a bit shaky despite your best efforts to stay calm. 
He turns and looks at you. “Are you certain?”
You nod. “As certain as I’ll ever be.”
“Alright, then we need to discuss a few things.”
You feel yourself droop. You’ve hyped yourself up for some wild sexy times, but now you have to talk first? You really hope this conversation doesn’t get too awkward. 
“First of all, you should choose a safe word. Are you familiar with that term?” he asks. 
You are, or rather you’ve heard it used in porn or the smutty stories you read online, but you’re too embarrassed to admit that. “Not really,” you say. 
“You choose a word or short phrase that wouldn’t normally be used in the bedroom, and whenever you say it, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing. If you’re genuinely afraid or something hurts or just makes you uncomfortable, say the safe word. We’ll stop immediately and only resume once you’re comfortable again.”
“Okay. How about… snowcone?” you ask. 
“Snowcone? That’s fine. Don’t forget it,” he says. 
“I won’t.”
“Now, part of my training involves light punishment for bad behavior. Mostly spankings, hair pulling, and things of that nature. Nothing that’s going to seriously hurt. Is that something you can handle?”
You suspected as much, but hearing him say it out loud, in that smooth voice of his, makes you feel dizzy. The thought of being spanked by this man as he calls you a bad girl turns you on way more than you expected. It also scares you. A man! Touching you! But you beat back down the panic that’s threatening to undermine your decision and nod. “I think so. I want to try at least.”
He walks over to his bed and sits down. His legs are spread apart as he undoes the first few buttons of his shirt and then runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, leaving it a little bit messy with a few strands hanging over one eye. He gives you a look that nearly makes you buckle, and says, “Come over here and show daddy what a good girl you can be.”
Your jaw nearly drops, your breath gets caught in your throat, and your only response is to say, “I’ll be right back!” and flee to the bathroom. 
Slamming the door shut behind you, you grab a fluffy towel from a shelf and press it to your face, using it to muffle a scream. Is it a scream of terror? Of excitement? Even you don’t know. You pant for a few moments, trying to pull yourself together. 
He’s hot! He’s soooo hot! 
But he’s a man! 
He looks just like Prince Sebastian! 
But he’s a man! 
After several more deep breaths, you feel the panic subsiding. You can do this! You step out of the bathroom as if you’d simply powdered your nose and walk back over to Nanami. “Sorry, I just needed a moment,” you say, hoping he didn’t hear your garbled scream. 
He gives you a small, amused smile. He definitely heard it! But he only says, “That’s fine. Take your time.”
Ahhh! He’s such a gentleman! You want him to do unspeakable things to you! 
“C-can we start over?” 
“Of course. I believe I told you to show me what a good girl you can be,” he said. 
“Okay,” you say, feeling even more awkward than usual standing there in front of him. “How should I do that?”
He gives you another one of those sultry looks. “You can start by coming closer and getting on your knees.”
Oh shit. He wants you to suck him off! Can you do it? You’ve seen it done in porn countless times. Yes, you can do it! And after you’re done, maybe he’ll pat your head and call you a good girl! Ahhh! Just imagining it has your heart pounding! 
You take the few steps needed to be directly in front of him, so close he could hug you if he wanted to. Then you get on your knees, right between his thighs. You glance up at him, unsure of what you should do next. Do you open his pants? Wait for him to do it? This is a daddy kink scenario, so maybe you can just mimic what you’ve seen and read online. You look up at him with wide eyes. “What do you want me to do, Daddy?”
There’s a flicker of surprise on his face, but then he leans back slightly on his hands and says, “I’ll let you decide. What do you think would make Daddy happiest right now?”
You hesitate for just a moment more, then reach up and unbuckle his belt. Your hands are trembling as you unbutton and unzip his pants. This is it! You’re going to see and touch a real man’s cock! You see his boxers when you open his pants, black and classy. With your heart hammering wildly in your chest, you grip the waistband and pull it down, under a dick that seems way bigger than it should be. But what would you know? 
With one hand, you lightly wrap your fingers around the hard, hot organ. Feeling unsure, you gently move your hand up and down the length. It’s too dry! Isn’t it supposed to be slippery? Wait… maybe that’s why women in porn often lick or drool on it. You glance up at his face, and there’s no change in his expression. Should you just spit on it? But that doesn’t seem like a very “good girl” thing to do. 
“Can I lick it, Daddy?”
“If you want to,” he answers. 
Slowly, you lean forward and touch your tongue to the tip. You thought it would taste bad, but really there’s no taste at all. The only thing you detect is the pleasant scent of bodywash. Of course someone like him would keep himself immaculately clean. You move your tongue all around the tip, licking it the way you would a popsicle, then you move your tongue down the shaft, toward the base, trying to get it as wet as possible. You hear him exhale a breath, and your eyes dart up to his face. He looks like he’s enjoying this! 
You feel his hand in your hair, and then all at once he’s got most of it gathered in his grip, holding it firmly. It doesn’t hurt, but it does make you feel like he’s completely in control of this situation, and that in itself makes you wet. 
“Take it in your mouth,” he says, his grip on your hair getting just a little tighter. 
Eager to please him, you do as you’re told, letting him fill your mouth with his cock. It’s a scary feeling at first, as you adjust to breathing only through your nose and occasionally gagging around him when he slips a little too far down your throat. But somehow his hand pulling your hair is comforting. You realize you like being led. 
He pushes your head up and down his length, slowly at first, gently. It’s more like he’s guiding you than forcing you. Gradually he ups the pace, going a bit deeper into your throat, which automatically constricts around him. By now your lips are covered in drool and the sticky fluid leaking from his tip, making them glide along the shaft easily. 
After several minutes, you hear his voice again. “I’m going to cum,” he says, a very slight strain to his tone. “Don’t spill a drop.”
Before you can do anything to react to his words, his grip on your hair tightens as he pushes your head down, his cock going halfway down your throat. You feel the warm cum shooting out, sliding directly down to your stomach. You swallowed it all without even getting the chance to taste it.  
After he pulls out of your mouth, he gives you a few moments to catch your breath, then his hand releases your hair and rubs your head. “Good girl,” he says, and you think you might just faint. 
The hand rubbing your head slides down your neck, your shoulder, and then grips your wrist. He pulls you to your feet, and then into his lap. You’re sitting on one of his muscular thighs as he deftly tucks his dick back into his pants with one hand. His other hand is holding you in place, the arm wrapped around you from behind. 
“Are you alright?” he asks, a kind look in his eyes. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, surprised by how true that is. 
“Then, since you’re being so good for Daddy, why don’t I reward you?” he says, his free hand slipping under your skirt, between your legs. 
Your body jerks in surprise, and if he wasn’t holding you firmly in place, you probably would have tumbled out of his lap. His eyes are on your face, watching carefully, as his hand slowly slides down, inside the front of your panties. He’s taking his time, giving you ample opportunity to use the safe word. But you don’t, because despite the fear you’re currently feeling, you don’t want him to stop. 
His fingers softly rub your most private place, gently parting the slick flesh, one finger quickly finding your clit. You gasp and clutch his arm, the sensations nearly overwhelming you. 
“Does that feel good?” he asks, his voice close to your ear. 
You nod your head, murmuring, “Mmhm.”
His fingers traces circles around your sensitive nub, then strokes it, making you release little mewling cries. 
“Tell me how it feels,” he says, almost in a whisper. “Use your words.”
“It feels… so good, Daddy! S-so so good! Nothing has ever felt so good!”
You suddenly wrap both arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. The pleasure is too intense! He’s way too good at this! His fingers never stop, even as you quiver in his grip, even when you cry out “Daddy!” as you cum, your whole body shaking. 
While you’re still trembling through your orgasm, with his hand still in your panties, he says, “There’s another rule you need to be aware of. In my training, you have to earn pleasure by being a good girl. You’re not allowed to pleasure yourself. Do you understand?”
You nod against his shoulder, feeling too dazed to speak. 
The hand that was holding you in place moves up to grip your hair and pull your head back so he can see your face. It’s not a harsh action, but a firm one. “Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, Daddy,” you say, and he releases your hair, then smoothes it down gently.
“That’s my good girl.”
**********************
Nanami sits in a chair in his room, thumbing through a book he bought recently and sipping wine. His doll is fast asleep in his bed, exhausted from the intense training session. 
He had made sure she was okay, physically and emotionally, before drawing a hot bath for her in his private bathroom and then later helping her into bed. They will be sharing the bed now that the training has begun, and she seemed okay with that before she fell asleep. 
Nanami is actually quite surprised by her. He had guessed it would be at least a week before she would be willing to try any sort of training, but here she is on the fourth day, practically swallowing his cock. She’s facing her fears, and that’s admirable. 
Though her escape attempts and nervous, terrified energy are exasperating, he also has to admit that he finds her amusing. Earlier, when she ran to the bathroom to scream, it was all he could do to hold back his laughter when she returned and acted as if nothing happened. She was definitely a strange one. 
He closes the book and stands up to stretch. His mind is already full of plans for tomorrow, for the various training exercises he can try with her. He doesn’t want to push her too far and make her fear of men worse, but he also wants to make sure she’s fully prepared for her life as a doll. He’ll do all he can to help her, that much is certain. 
Tag List:
@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx 
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vulpisnocturna · 8 months
Note
My tired brain 🧠 possibly misunderstood, but hc requests are still open? If not disregard this ask, but if so what are your hc on Uchiha Males discovering their spouse or s/o, having an intrauterine device for birth control? I would say not done out of spite but just something their s/o has had for years (some IUDs last for 10 yrs or longer!). Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, since it’s not something most women spend all day thinking about. At least I don’t.
Maybe a slight misunderstanding over the whole scenario. It can be NSFW as well. 😈
HC requests are in fact still open, as they don’t take me long to write. Fic requests are closed.
Mhhh I’m not sure, this would be quite hard to gauge I think. I’ll try my best.
Uchiha Men finding out you have an IUD/views on contraception
Indra:
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-This man would not be happy to hear you say you cannot conceive when he wants you to. He would absolutely tell you to get it removed ASAP. You don’t want children with him or something? Is that a joke? You need to give him an heir.
-If you tell him you’ve had it for a long time, he will retort that now you’re his wife and it is time to have a family with him.
- 10/10 commitment, 1/10 general approach, 0/10 women’s rights
Izuna:
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-He’s secretly a sweetheart. He would ask you why you did it and if you’re comfortable removing it because he wants a family with you. If you’re not, he’ll try to coax you into it, but he won’t push too far. He wants peace for his clan as much as peace in his household.
-Will be asking routine updates on whether you’re ready to take it off.
- 7/10 general approach, 9/10 communication, 7/10 women’s rights
Madara:
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-Is perplexed when he starts to see that no matter how many time he breeds you, you never get pregnant. There is no way he’s the problem. Could you be infertile? That’s not a thought Madara likes. He needs to pass on his genes, and he singled you out as the best woman to help him do that.
-So he asks you, and you tell him you cannot conceive at the moment because of your IUD. Madara is not happy. He isn’t going to be as controlling as Indra, but he will try to literally fuck the need to be bred into you. Will manipulate you into a breeding kink. And then he will dote on you, making sure you know how much he is committed to creating a family with you, how much he wants you to bear his children. Until you suddenly want it too and get that blasted thing removed. Another win for Madara.
- 6/10 general approach, 6/10 women’s rights, 8/10 gaslighting
Obito:
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-This man will break you with simping. When he finds out, he’s genuinely upset and a little embarrassed. After all, he’s been raving about putting a child in you when you two were having sex and now he finds out it was literally impossible for him to do so.
-He will shower you with love, say he wants a family with you so badly, tell you how good you’d look pregnant, say how much he wants to be a father and how good of a mother you’d be.
-Genuine love bombing: Obito is genuine in the efforts he’s putting in. He’s not trying to manipulate you consciously, he just wants it that badly, and is so upset that you have that IUD and he can’t make it a reality. What you’ll do is up to you, but he’ll never stop nagging you.
- 7/10 general approach, 8/10 women’s rights, 10/10 simping
Shisui:
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-Is the most normal about breeding kink. Will say it’s fine, but asks if one day, you might still be open to having children.
-Laughs it off with a sex joke.
-‘That’s good to hear, sweetheart, I’m not sure I can be trusted with pulling out in time’ he would laugh and joke.
-Sometimes will get thoughts of how cute it would be and how happy it would make him to make a family, and he asks how long you think you’re going to keep it.
-Engages in playful jokes about being a dad. Quick glances in your direction to see how you take it.
- 10/10 women’s rights, 9/10 general approach, 9/10 joking as a coping mechanism
Itachi:
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-Itachi is completely understanding of the notion of contraception. After all, who would want a child when they’re not ready? But he does want a family with you, and if the time is right and he doesn’t plan to play suicide with Sasuke, he will want you to be the mother of his children.
-Will inquire when you got it… for purposes. You don’t need to know he’s counting down how much time is left until it gets removed
-Will also inquire what the purpose of the contraception is. Is it to be able to have sex without risks until you are ready, or are you planning to not have children at all? He needs to be reassured that you do want a family with him one day, even if it’s not today. He’s patient, but he needs the constant reassurance that one day, he can go wild and give in to his breeding kink. Being an Uchiha is not easy.
- 9/10 general approach, 10/10 women’s rights, 9/10 paranoia
Sasuke:
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-You can do whatever you like, but he’s silently brooding over it. Secretly asks himself if you are trying to avoid having a family with him
-Wants to rebuild his clan with you. Will not say he wants you to get it removed. Will say “whatever”.
-You’ll have to go to him to have a conversation about it, and the fact that he wants a family has to be pulled out of his throat with pliers. You’ll have to do the leg work to communicate, but it’s really sweet once he lets go and is vulnerable enough to show you his true feelings.
- 3/10 general approach, 9/10 women’s rights, 10/10 emotionally stunted.
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issdisgrace · 7 months
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Slashers with a person who uses comedy to cope with stressful situations? Like cracking jokes when they literally just fell down the stairs or nearly just got mugged and makes a pun out of it. Specifically Asa or Jesse please I’m desperate for them. Please and thank you 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
SLASHERS WITH A S/O THAT USES HUMOR TO COPE
WARNINGS: None
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ASA
At first Asa was put off by the fact that you used humor to cope. But slowly over time it became a weird thing he loved about you. Also your way of coping rubbed off a little on him and on the rare occasion he will crack a joke or two about him being an orphan.
BO
Bo will forever give you the side eye when you use humor to cope. It doesn’t matter how long you are togeather. He will always think that you using humor to cope is weird. But his mindset is very why joke about when you can just not in-knowledge it and push it deep down inside.
JESSE
Jesse is very much of a toss up. At times he doesn’t care about the fact you use humor to cope. And can/will find your jokes about whatever situation funny. But then other times he is worried that you use humor to cope because it isn’t a all to health coping mechanism. And will ask you if your alright or to stop.
LESTER
Lester doesn’t mind that you use humor to cope. In fact Lester is right there with you using humor to cope. Lester really started using humor to cope when he realized that his parents hitting him and his brother was not normal. It helped him a lot to deal with the abuse and it still does to this day.
MICHAEL
Michael quite literally doesn’t pay any attention to the fact you use humor to cope. He met a couple of people when he was in the Smith’s Grove that used humor to cope with the fact they were in the sanitarium.
OTIS
Otis is no stranger to using humor to cope with things. When he was a child that was how he coped with a lot of things. But then as he got older he started using torturing and killing people as a way to cope with things. So he doesn’t mind at all about the fact you use humor to cope with things.
PATRICK
Patrick doesn’t notice at all. He is in his own little world. He probably won’t even catch on to you using humor to cope unless someone directly says something about. And even then he kinda just shrugs it off and is like eh everyone copes differently.
THOMAS
This poor baby doesn’t understand at all. He has never been exposed to people using humor cope with stressful/difficult situations. So he is really really concerned for you. He sits you down is like why are you joking about this, this isn’t funny. You need to stop.
VINCENT
Vincent doesn’t bat an eye at you using humor to cope at first. But then you continuously use humor to cope with stressful and/or difficult situations. And he becomes concerned to the point he sits you down is like please stop baby it’s not healthy way to deal with your emotions all the time.
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