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#gonna pretend i didn’t eat chocolate chips
skzsauce01 · 4 months
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What Was I Made For
Synopsis: College is hard, but it's even worse when you're a pre-med student and it's even, even worse when you don't want to go into medicine. Fortunately, the ghost that haunts your apartment is more kind, more annoying, and more helpful than you ever thought possible. College AU, ghost AU.
Warning: alcohol, bad parental relationship, mentions of death
Word Count: 6.2k
Pairing: f!reader x ghost!Kim Seungmin
A/N: Good luck with exams and classes!
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“Honey, I’m home,” you call. The handles of the reusable grocery bag you picked up from a club booth at the beginning of the semester are already starting to fall apart, so you’re forced to flip on the light switch with your shoulder blades. You glare at Seungmin, who is lounging on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Could you at least pretend to help?”
“What’s the point? I can’t even eat whatever you bought.”
You sigh and set down your haul onto the tiny kitchen island that doubles as a dining table. When you make a big production of taking out your groceries, Seungmin still doesn’t look up. Despite his inability to eat food, he usually shows some interest, if only to judge your snack choices.
On the counter, bananas in a plastic produce bag to prevent fruit flies, and a new roll of paper towels. On the top shelf of the fridge, a tub of Greek yogurt that Seungmin makes fun of you for liking. Assorted salad mixes in the crisper. A whole rotisserie chicken and a carton of eggs on the middle shelf. In the cabinet goes a party-sized bag of barbeque chips, a pack of chocolate chip cookies you don’t want to discuss how much you paid for, and a box of protein bars. 
You take the last item out of the bag and hide it behind your back. You hover over Seungmin. “Guess what I got?”
“A bag of potatoes that will grow spuds because you can’t finish them all.”
“That was one time! Try again.”
He guesses wrong again and again, so after the fifth attempt, you hold your prize in front of his eyes. “A better vegetable peeler, just like you told me to. Are you proud of me?”
For a moment, his sullen eyes brighten at the memory of you struggling with your old peeler. He watched with great amusement as the flimsy blade repeatedly got caught on carrot skin and you grew more infuriated with each catch. In the end, you gave up and ate the skin, fuming with each bite of your meal. Seungmin laughed so hard, you thought he would lose control of his physical form and slip through the floor. 
He sighs, all of the joy escaping through his lips. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, it’s just one of those days.”
“We all have them. Hey, why don’t we do something tonight? I’m done studying, so we can watch a movie or play Mario Kart or something.” You plaster a smile on your face. “Fun, right?”
“You’re never gonna get into med school if this is how you work.”
Despite his admonishments, he sits up and swings his legs off the couch to make room for you. He didn’t choose an activity so Mario Kart it is. You leave your peeler on the coffee table and grab your joycons. When you flop beside him, tossing the blue one in his lap, he grumbles as he’s jostled around.
“I don’t even wanna go to med school,” you remind him. He already knows since it’s all you complain about these days as the MCAT draws closer, but that’s never stopped you from repeating yourself.
“Wow, what a problem. I’d die to go to med school.” 
Without thinking, you snort. “Too late for that.”
Seungmin has been dead for nearly two years. The old apartment complex burned down in an electrical fire, and due to the housing demand in the area, the university quickly built a new one in its place. Sure, you suspected it was probably haunted, but rent was on the cheaper side, especially for a single room, so you moved in and learned about your unofficial roommate during your first night. You thought you were going to faint when you saw a stranger leaning over your stack of practice books, and you thought you were going to be killed when he simply said, “I was also pre-med.”
“Sorry,” you meekly say. Why is the Mario Kart music so cheerful? It would be worse if it was sad, but the upbeat tune just makes your mistake more poignant. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Well, you’re not wrong,” he interjects. “Doesn’t matter. You better not pick Birdo this time.”
While you normally would have fought him six ways from Sunday for Birdo, you choose Yoshi instead and pick his favorite circuit to start off the night. He makes no comment about your sudden generosity, but you both know the reason. There’s no such thing as pity in this household, but apologies are aplenty.
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When you come back from your anatomy lab the following day, whatever guilt you felt is gone when Seungmin holds up your pack of cookies with a disapproving look. You must have forgotten to put it back in the cabinet before you left. Either that or Seungmin rummaged around your belongings when the roommate contract stated that he could not and would not.
“You seriously paid for these?” he says. 
“They’re good! And artisan,” you huff as you snatch the package from his hands. You hope you didn’t crush any cookies in the process. “I support small businesses.”
“They haven’t been a small business or artisan in, like, twenty years. How did the cat dissection go?” 
You reach for an overpriced cookie and snap off a piece with more force than necessary. “Fine. A little gross, but I guess I’m used to that by now. You wanna see the pictures I took?”
He tries to feign nonchalance, but his body seems more substantial, less ghost-like as you scroll through your camera roll. Even though he oohs and aahs at the most inappropriate images—you really don’t think the digestive structures of a cat deserve that much admiration—you can’t help but smile. He hasn’t looked or sounded this lively in weeks. You thought it might have been your snark rubbing off of him, but he always has a biting remark at the ready, remedied only with his good-natured demeanor. Of course, that demeanor has been slowly crumbling, so to see him be his usual self again feels good.
Satisfied, he lets you take your phone back. “Sometimes I miss lab. I hated doing the lab reports though; have fun with that.”
And just like that, your happiness goes out. “That’s tomorrow’s problem. I should study before work. You wanna help me out? I hate physics.”
Look, if your roommate were a pre-med student, had unlimited time, and no other obligations, you would force them to help you study, too. Plus, Seungmin loves MCAT practice, so it’s a win-win.
To your surprise, he doesn’t jump at the opportunity like he typically does. Under normal circumstances, he would be scouring the living room for where he last left his flashcards. Instead, he says, “Why don’t you take a break?”
“A break? You, of all people, suggest that I take a break when you were just telling me about my bad study habits? Who are you, and what have you done with Seungmin?”
He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t realize you wanted to do physics that badly.”
“I don’t. This is weird from you though.” However, after a moment of contemplation: “Whatever. Pick a show to watch. I’m gonna draw.”
He selects House because he’s still Seungmin after all. This is the show that inspired him to go into medicine, and is, as he’s mentioned many times before, “the greatest show on the planet.” It’s entertaining, you admit, and you do like seeing all of the obscure medical cases Dr. Gregory House solves, but it’s a grim reminder of your parents’ dreams for you. With the dialogue of the characters echoing in your head, you sketch a frog sitting on top of a stack of pancakes. You initially bought your tablet for note taking, but it really is much better as a tool for art. 
“It’s always animals, plants, or dessert now,” Seungmin remarks, craning his head to get a better view while you continually pull your screen away. “What happened to your big fantasy pieces?”
“Rule one: no looking until I say so. Rule two: no questions unless I say so. Remember?”
He ignores you. “You used to do a lot of those things when you first moved in. With the crazy landscapes, guys with abs in crop tops, cat-ear ladies with fancy dresses, villains who you definitely wanted to—”
“I get it!” Your face is blazing. He makes your artistic—purely artistic—interests sound so much worse than they are. “I’ve just been busy with life, so I don’t have time to work on them anymore. Anyway, animals, plants, and desserts are cute.” In a smaller voice, you add, “And they make me happy.”
Just like pictures of a flayed cat makes him happy.
He goes quiet and lets Dr. House fill the air. While he pretends to be engrossed in the show, you turn back to your sketch to fix your frog’s eyes to be less downcast. No sad frogs allowed.
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You don’t remember exactly when the dread began, but you do distinctly remember glancing over the syllabus for your genetics course and wanting to collapse. Each item was manageable by itself, but the totality of the class, of your future classes, of your future hurtled at you at full force. For so long, you convinced yourself you could do it. You would complain the whole time, but at the end, you would be addressed as ‘Doctor’ and you would be happy. Your parents would be happy, so you would be happy and realize that it was all worth it.
Even if you cried every night, it would be worth it. 
You took a deep breath, looked at the list of assigned textbooks, and pulled out your credit card. You went through more dire situations than this stupid course. This would be easy enough.
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Two weeks after the art fiasco, you finally test out your new vegetable peeler on potatoes. Your friend gave you five for free since she was having trouble finishing the large amount she bought. While you stand over the sink, humming a song your neighbor has been practicing for the past week, Seungmin is hunched over the coffee table, doing something secretive with flashcards. He’s been working on a new set of them since the art fiasco, which makes no sense since you have a perfect set of a thousand that you bought online. But no, he has been toiling day and night to create handmade ones. You don’t even want to know where he got the supplies.
Well, you already know where and how, but if your neighbors come knocking, you know nothing.
In fear that you’ll “ruin the surprise,” you have been forbidden from even stepping foot onto the living room carpet. Really, there’s no point because you can get a glimpse if you lean across the island. Nevertheless, you keep your eyes on the growing pile of potato skins. You have five potatoes worth of fries to make.
Ten minutes later, when you have moved onto slicing, Seungmin declares that he’s done. He places the baking sheet you left on the island onto a chair and triumphantly sets down his masterpiece.
When you pick up the topmost one, you can’t help but smile. Alongside the words “absolute threshold” is a cartoon rabbit with alert ears. Tiny music notes are dotted on the top edge of the card. 
“To make your studies less stressful,” he says. 
You don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re always some degree of stressed but nevertheless thank him. The flashcards are adorable, even if Seungmin’s drawing skills aren’t the best. “Newton’s first law” has an indistinguishable creature kicking a ball, and “law of independent assortment” features some of the strangest plants you have ever seen.
“I love them.”
“What do you think of my art skills? Better than you, right?”
You laugh and turn back to your cutting board. “You should’ve considered art school instead of med school. Professional artist Seungmin,” you muse. “I can see you in galleries and museums.”
“Don’t forget the history textbooks. Why didn’t you consider art school? You would be perfect for video games or something.”
For some time, you did consider art school. You spent the first two years of high school daydreaming about sitting behind an easel, translating a model’s likeness onto paper. Perennial paint splatters on your jeans, permanent charcoal stains on your fingers—that was the only way you wanted to study human anatomy. 
“My parents. You know how it is. Can you season the fries in the bowl?”
While Seungmin dumps copious amounts of salt, pepper, and whatever random spices he picked from the cabinet, you reflect on your teenage self. A part of you knew that drawing would only be a hobby, but another part kept hoping your parents would come around. When Hyunjin’s parents announced he was going to study chemistry, your mom wondered why he didn’t choose art when he was such a good artist. In fact, half the neighborhood, whose children went into STEM fields one way or another, were shocked he chose chemistry. Of course, if their own kids had opted for non-STEM majors, they would have been livid. Just like your parents had been.
“Did you ever think about not going into medicine?” you ask as you add more potato slices into the bowl.
He adds a swirl of oil to the mix. “No. It’s all I ever wanted to do. I volunteered at the hospital in high school, got an internship at a clinic here. I was studying for the MCAT and then…”
And then the university’s outdated housing killed him. It sounds horrific when phrased like that, but it’s more truthful than “Promising Young Pre-med Student Kim Seungmin Dead After Apartment Fire,” as the city newspaper headlined. His student ID photo smiled earnestly at readers, and a recent picture showed him posing in a lab coat.
It hits you then. Seungmin is dead. You knew this logically; you saw the articles, passed by the vigil, and signed the student letter demanding better accommodations. Then you forgot his existence until you applied to live in this building and when he appeared in your bedroom, you forgot about his death. Despite witnessing him walk through walls and tiptoeing around his deceased status, Seungmin has never really been dead to you. He’s your roommate who sleeps in the living room, your study partner who loves all things related to biology, or your friend. He’s too alive to be anything else.
“Did you preheat the oven?” he asks, breaking you out of your spiraling thoughts. Your body went on autopilot, and now the baking sheet is covered in pale potato sticks.
You glance at the dark oven and head over to do what you should’ve done twenty minutes ago. “My bad.”
“You’re the one eating these. Can you even finish all this?”
It’s far too much, but what else were you going to do with five potatoes on the verge of going bad? You suppose you could have not accepted them from your friend. “I can try?” you say, more to convince yourself than him. “I’m no coward.”
“Really? Then why do you hide when we watch horror movies?”
“That’s different. Mario Kart while we wait?”
“I call Birdo.”
Despite his declaration, you’re the one playing Birdo while he settles for Waluigi. Seungmin gloats when he hits you with a red shell, laughs when you fall off the track, and celebrates when he gets first place. He’s practically corporeal, alight with hopes and dreams you wish were your own, but he’s only the echo of the past. Meanwhile, blood flows through your veins and oxygen into your lungs, yet you’re stuck in a potential future you don’t even want.
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At the end of fall, between your human biology midterm and that stupid philosophy paper, you break. It’s during one of your MCAT practice exams, so you at least can cry at your desk. You can’t even cry without guilt; your mind immediately starts trying to reread the problem you’re stuck on through your tears, as if trigonometry will solve your crisis. 
It feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest. Every time you think you’ve calmed down enough to begin again, another wave of sobs overcomes you. Just holding your pencil makes your throat tighten.
“Are you okay?” Seungmin’s voice is slightly muffled by your bedroom door, but you doubt that a thin piece of wood concealed your cries.
You choke out, “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“... No.”
You swing open your door with sardonic fanfare, spreading your arms like a ringmaster. Seungmin makes no comment about your swollen eyes or your sniffles. You almost wish he had.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. He takes a tentative step into your room, and when you nod, he lets himself fully in. It’s been several months since he’s last been inside. Unmade bed, cluttered nightstand, paper-strewn desk—nothing much has changed. He sits on your chair, resting an arm on top of the throw blanket you’ve thrown over the back.
“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” you say after a moment of silence. “I hate class, I hate work, I hate my life. A breakdown has been long overdue.”
You stare at the floor, afraid to meet his gaze now that he’s seen you like this. Ever since you discovered Seungmin, you’ve crafted the perfect blasé attitude to accommodate your new living circumstances. He leaves you alone sometimes and stays cordoned off in the shared spaces to give you privacy, but you don’t break apart in your apartment for good reason. You’re open and raw like a bloody wound. Will he want to patch you up with bandaids, or will he pick and prod?
Pick and prod, you pray. Make some flippant remark about how easy you have it, how he wishes he could be in your position instead. Because if he does, then the situation must not be that bad.
Softly, Seungmin says, “What can I do to help?”
Your heart drops to your stomach. “I don’t know… I should probably get back to studying anyway.”
“Really? Are you serious?”
“What else am I supposed to do?” you snap. Seungmin at least has the decency to look sheepish. “The MCAT’s in July, and I don’t even understand half the things I’m supposed to know. I’m barely getting C’s in philosophy and art history because of it. That’s so humiliating.”
“Have you thought about, you know, not going to med school?”
A harsh laugh rips out of your throat. “Every single day. But it’s too late. I’ve already wasted four years, so what’s another four?” That doesn’t even include residency.
“You’d hate it.”
“Story of my life.”
The room goes quiet. Maybe you were too severe with your words, but how else do you explain it? 
“What if you became a medical illustrator?” he abruptly suggests. “You’d know exactly how to draw everything. It’s perfect for you. And it’s still STEM-related.”
It doesn’t matter if it’s in STEM. Your parents laid out your options very clearly: doctor or disappointment. Some career choices were less disappointing than others, but they would still be disappointments.
“I need to study,” you say.
He stands up from your rightful seat at your desk. Softly, so very softly, he says, “I’ll let you get back to it then.”
“Thank you.”
He shuts the door behind him and leaves you with your despair. True to your word, you return to your practice exam, this time without crying. Your mouth is dry the entire session, but you don’t dare drink any water in fear that rehydration will trigger your tears. It’s stupid but keeps you holding on. 
When you check your answers and review terminology, you refer to the set of flashcards Seungmin made for you. He didn’t expect you to use them, but his drawings have helped you better memorize the definitions. You shuffle through them, occasionally trying to figure out the relationship between whatever Seungmin drew and the word written. Other times—but not enough for your liking—you know exactly what they mean.
The rabbit from “absolute threshold” stares at you with lopsided eyes, and Mendel’s warped pea plants grow beneath your fingers. The whole world blurs.
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A month after move-in, after too many beers and barbeque chips, you asked Seungmin, “Why do you haunt only me? You can travel through the whole building, but you’re only ever here.”
He gestures at the room with a sweeping flourish. “This used to be my apartment. Sort of. They changed the floor plan, but this is the approximate location of where I lived, so when you moved in, it felt like fate.”
“Ah, a med school sufferer to keep you company.”
He laughs, but it sounds insincere. “How drunk are you right now?”
You glance at the row of empty cans you lined up on the counter. One, two, three, four, five. Five and a half, if you count the one in your hand. “Pretty drunk, I think.”
“So you won’t remember what I tell you, right?”
“Probably not,” you lie. “What is it?”
With a sad smile on his face, he says, “I haunt you because it’s like seeing someone live the life I could’ve had. Would’ve had.”
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Your outburst doesn’t go forgotten, but you and Seungmin dance around the topic with the grace of a seasoned ballerina. You show him your grocery hauls, he scolds you for buying expensive cookies. The two of you play Overcooked instead of Mario Kart and pretend that Overcooked will strengthen your friendship instead destroy it even further. Seungmin is really bad, embarrassingly so. 
“Are you going to the party this weekend?” he asks as he drops onions all over the floor. There’s no health department in the game.
“I would ask you to be more specific,” you say, “but we both know I’m not going to any parties. Go chop the onions.”
“You need friends.”
“I have friends. Who do you think keeps us giving us potatoes?”
He scoffs. “That’s not a friend. That’s an enemy. We need more dishes.”
While you wash a stack of dirty dishes, Seungmin dashes between prepping ingredients and watching the timer on the soups. As expected, he doesn’t take the pot off the stovetop quick enough, and soon enough the whole kitchen is in flames. You scream at him to get the fire extinguisher, he wades through the sea of onions, and the level ends with a single gold star.
You set your joycon down and lean your head back. “Three stars or nothing” is your motto when playing Overcooked, but perhaps you can make an exception for Seungmin.
“Why’d you ask me about a party?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Seems like a college student thing to ask. And a college student thing to do. Go to parties, I mean.”
“Not for us.” You stretch your arms and legs out, knocking your socked feet against the coffee table. “When have you ever seen me willingly leave the apartment?”
“Never,” he admits, “but you should enjoy your youth.”
Whatever mutual agreement you thought you and Seungmin had does not exist. You have long known that you would have to sacrifice your twenties for your future. There would be good moments among your struggles, but so many of your memories would be of test prep and studying. As your parents so eloquently put it, “You can draw after you retire.” 
“That’s funny coming from you,” you say. You wave a hand in front of his face and observe the way his eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you really Seungmin?”
“Do you know any other ghosts?”
“Do you actually regret dedicating so much time to studying?”
“No. I mean, I went out when I could, but you…” He mindlessly thumbs the buttons of the controller as he tries to find his words. “Well, maybe I do a little bit, but it was fulfilling. Or was going to be anyway. You’re miserable. I’ve never seen you without dark circles or eye bags.”
How needlessly observant of him. “Thanks. It’s the quintessential college look.”
“Take care of yourself.” He raises his joycon and nods at the TV. “Let’s go again. Three stars only.”
And just like that, you and Seungmin go back to pretending as if everything is fine, like the last few minutes were idle chatter about the weather. You yell instructions at him, and he retorts back with something snarky; all is well.
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You suppose you should have realized why Seungmin asked you such out-of-character questions two weeks ago. Death anniversaries don’t typically go onto your calendar, but you could have made an exception for Seungmin. How did you forget? As you walk down the stairs, a wave of guilt washes over you.
The annual university-held vigil occurs on campus, but the apartment complex has their own small affair in the courtyard. Framed photos of the victims huddle together at the base of a half-wall. Already, there are several flowers and notes strewn about, and you add your own carnation to the pile. You have a note as well, and it burns your hand as you debate whether to leave it or not.
Twelve people died that night. “Only” twelve, as some papers reiterated. Twelve out of three hundred doesn’t seem too horrific given the state of the fire, but that’s still twelve people dead. Plenty more got injured trying to escape, and they aren’t honored at this memorial. The living don’t get commemorated—they live with the memories of the day, and that’s remembrance enough for the public.
“Hey.”
No one else is around, so you say, “Hey,” back to Seungmin. He disappeared for a few hours, and you assumed he would be gone until sunrise. In the days leading up to his death anniversary, he has grown increasingly depressed, looking vacantly out the window and mouthing words to himself. You idiotically thought he was just having one of those days.
“How are you holding up?” you ask.
“Fine, I guess. Good turn out this year,” he remarks as he kneels down to pick through the gifts. “The construction workers didn’t even show up to work because of superstition or something.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know, it’s just…” You wave the folded notebook paper in your hand. Maybe you should’ve bought some stationery after all. “Read this later. I’ll see you whenever.”
You gently place it beside your carnation, return back to your apartment, and lock yourself inside your room. It’s too quiet, and you’re too restless. Your head tells you to do practice problems to burn off your energy, but all you’ve been doing as of late is listen to your head.
As you sketch an anatomical heart—underneath a completely necessary and painstakingly accurate rendering of a male torso—your bones say that this is right. 
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To Kim Seungmin, a star that went out too soon—
You deserved so much more than this. I don’t even know what else to say because nothing feels more appropriate. 
I’m living in your old apartment—where it used to be, at least—and I can’t help but feel that I’m living the life you should have had. Sometimes I can feel your presence when I’m studying. I can hear you reciting definitions and shuffling flashcards. When I’m really losing my mind, I can see you sitting on the couch watching House episodes with me. It’s comforting and terrifying.
You already know this, but I don’t want to go to med school. I hate it and I hate being a disappointment to my parents, but I hate being a disappointment to you the most. You should be in my place, so I thought I should try and complete your dream for you at the very least. I’m already miserable, so I should make the most of it. For a while, I thought this would make you happy, but it’s been making you sad and worried recently. I thought if I could make you happy, then it would be worth it, but I’m realizing it’s not, but I’m too scared to leave this path. Sometimes I don’t know who I am without med school looming over me, and it 
I wish we would’ve met earlier. You’re an amazing person, full of light and kindness. The world is darker without you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done and for everything that I didn’t do because you deserve so much better than whatever you’ve been given.
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“Do you want to talk?”
Seungmin’s upside down face appears between you and the iPad you have been holding up with both arms. Philosophy review is simultaneously boring and maddening, but you have a final to be studying for. You should’ve started much earlier, but twenty-four hours of cramming has not failed you when it comes to general education elective courses yet.
“Not really,” you say as you push his face out of view. He’s corporeal at the moment, so your hand meets resistance rather than going right through. “I’m busy.”
“Did you apply for a ‘biomedical visualization’ program? That’s a medical illustrator thing, right?”
You don’t need to look at him to know he’s thrilled. Since the memorial, you began looking into medical illustrators as a backup plan. You only meant to learn about the basic requirements, but curiosity got the better of you, and you attended an online informational session. Seungmin overheard bits and pieces because of how thin the walls are, you got cagey when he asked, and he put his endless hours of free time into detective work. 
“I didn’t apply. I’m just looking around. Now go away.”
“The living room is a communal space. So you’re considering it then?”
You don’t respond and bring your iPad closer to your eyes. To read the tiny notes on the margins of your classmate’s notes, of course.
Seungmin cackles and claps his hands. “You are! This is good! Why are you so morose?”
“Because you interrupted my studying? I have less than ten hours to cover three months of content.”
“You’re deflecting. Are you worried about your parents?”
“Morose and deflecting,” you murmur. “Two gold stars for your vocabulary usage.”
“Are you?”
You shut your eyes, envisioning the stern faces of your parents when you announce over dinner your plans to spend your life not being a doctor. Their expressions morph from confusion to anger to grim when they realize how serious you are. 
Are you serious about this? You’re not even sure yourself. It feels like you’re in high school again, holding onto a shred of hope for a future you aren’t allowed to have.
“What if I lie to them?” you say. “I tell them I got into a school that’s super far away, go there, and return when I’ve firmly established myself as an illustrator or whatever I end up doing. It’ll be too late for them to do anything.”
“That’s one way to do it. But wouldn’t it be better if you were upfront?”
You groan and turn back to your classmate’s notes. What is it like, you wonder, to not be crushed by the weight of approval? What is it like to know you won’t be scorned for your choices? No matter what you do, someone—your parents or Seungmin—will be upset.
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“Upset” is a very mild way to describe your parents’ reactions. After six cans of celebratory beer—you passed all of your classes this semester!—you called your parents to tell them good news. Somewhere between the silent congratulations and questions of your home arrival, you blurted out, “I think I’m gonna do biomedical visualization. Medical illustration. Art. It’s still medical-related, but not a doctor.”
And after a lengthy discussion filled with shouting, you’re not allowed to come home this year or ever again. CALL ENDED flashes on your screen, but you grip your phone so tightly you can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. Your whole body is tense, flushed with indignation and shame. No tears come. You expected something like this but nothing to this extreme. Their words echo in your ears.
Ungrateful. Selfish. Disgrace. 
Logically, you know you’re none of those things, but you can’t help but feel they’re at least a little bit right. You sink into your desk chair and wait for the inevitable knock on your door. To step out of your own accord would be mortifying. 
“Are you okay?��� asks Seungmin.
“I’ve been disowned in every way except legally,” you answer as you let him inside your room. “What do you think?”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s…”
It’s not fine, but your mouth started saying so by default. You perch on the edge of your bed and stare at the stack of practice books that have been untouched for two days on your dresser. They would belong better under your bed where they’ll be out of sight.
Suddenly insecure, you ask, “You’re not gonna leave me, right? You’ll still help me peel potatoes and let me know when my artisan cookies are on sale?”
He chuckles. “The only way you can get away from me is by moving or by graduating. I’ll be here. Instead of nagging you to study, I’ll critique your anatomy.”
“That’s against the rules.” Nevertheless, you smile at the thought of Seungmin hyperfixed at your artistic renderings and comparing them against pictures from a textbook. “Thanks.”
Seungmin smiles back, and he radiates so much warmth that you forget it’s winter.
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EPILOGUE
“Honey, I’m home,” you call. 
You nearly trip over the door sill in your heels but catch yourself in time. Wearing heels to commencement is a bad idea for more reasons than one. Clutching your friend’s graduation bouquet, you flip on the light switch with the back of your hand and glance over your apartment. Other than the dozens of boxes scattered across the living room and kitchen, nothing else belongs to you; goodbye coffee table you stubbed your toes against too many times; goodbye peeling school-issued couch. You half-expected to see Seungmin lying on it, staring at the ceiling like he used to. 
“Seungmin, where are you?” When he doesn’t answer, you try again. “Anyone home?”
You wander around the small apartment, checking behind doors and furniture like you’re playing hide-and-seek. He’s nowhere to be found, and you go through the apartment again in a frenzy. He could be in a different part of the building, but he always knows when you’re looking for him.
“Where are you? Seungmin, this isn’t funny! I know you can hear me.”
It takes twenty minutes, but you eventually realize he’s gone for good. No goodbyes, no hugs, no teasing—he just waved you off to your ceremony and shut the front door. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help you move out, but you thought he would still be here when you returned. He researched additional art classes for you, suggested works for your portfolio, and consoled you whenever you were overwhelmed. It’s a knife to your heart that he’s not here.
In between tears that you don’t allow to fall from your eyes, you carry your boxes of belongings to your car. You have a new place to call home, but two perfectly nice housemates and a dog aren’t good replacements for a ghost who annoyed you from sunrise to sundown.
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I hope you find this note eventually. I know we have the rule where I’m not supposed to go through your belongings, but since we’re not going to be roommates any longer, I hope you’re not too mad. Completely unrelated but you’re really good at Mario Kart. So good. Birdo was designed specifically for you.
Congratulations on graduating. You’ve worked hard this year. Could have worked harder sometimes but you did it! Relax a bit during your gap year and enjoy your youth. Those art classes will be easy for you. Biomed visualization will be easy after pre-med studies.
Stop rolling your eyes and sighing. You know I’m right.
I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I know you wanted it, but I don’t think I could have handled it. The truth is that I was ready to go a couple months ago when you started compiling your portfolio. For two years, I didn’t know why I was still here. At first, I thought my unfinished business was about the circumstances of my death. (Stop wincing. I’m dead. It’s a fact.) Then the administration stepped up. They did the bare minimum, to be honest, but at least changes were made. When you turned up, I thought I was supposed to fulfill my dream of going to med school. Turns out, I still have no idea what exactly why I was here, but seeing you live the life you want and choose the future you want makes me feel like business is finished.
To L/N Y/N, a star that will keep shining for decades to come—
I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done so far. There are so many opportunities waiting out there for you, so don’t be afraid to take any chances. I’ll be with you always.
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bridgetotheskyyy · 6 months
Text
Take Care of You - Aki Hayakawa
Kinktober Masterlist
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Warnings: 18+, hate sex, aggression lol, alley sex, spit kink
A/n: this was a loooot of fun, kinktober day 3 let's goooo
Word count: 2.2k
Read on ao3
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“Fuck.” You caressed your throbbing cheek, quickening your pace to keep up with Aki-supreme-ass-Hayakawa. “What the fuck was that for?”
Aki dug into his pocket as he strode down the street, no doubt to fish out a lighter he surely had left on the balcony of his apartment. 
“I said I was sorry,” he said in a voice like cement. Hard. Colorless.
“You did it on purpose.” 
You glared at his disgusting, pony-tailed head and you knew, you knew, he was rolling his eyes. You loathed his stoicism. And you knew you would feel better if he had simply acknowledged you. 
The corner store bell rang, grating on the oncoming migraine simmering at the back of your skull. 
You threw your hands up after giving Aki a few seconds leeway to explain why you were here in the first place. “Why’re we stopping here?” 
“I need to get snacks for Denji and Power,” Aki answered before turning down an aisle. 
“Right,” You scoffed. Never would you understand why a devil-hunter chose to pamper two fiends. “I’m going to pretend like that makes sense.”
You turned the corner just in time to see Aki kneel by the candy racks.
You leaned against a rack, forearm crushing some random plushies. “Remind me why the half-n-half can’t just eat more puke with that cunt devil. Didn’t he swallow it, anyway?”
Your eagle-eyes caught Aki’s eyebrow twitch, but nothing more. 
“That was Denji, and that was one time,” he replied as he grabbed a series of different chocolate bars, holding them up for consideration. “Besides, you don’t know them; they’re easier to control when there’s food around.” 
You huffed. Pathetic. Your eyes never leave Aki as he raises, picks all three of the candy bars and heads to the register to wait behind two other customers. You rolled your eyes and decided to browse the chip aisle. You grabbed something hot and spicy, to fit your mood, and joined Aki in line.
“I’m not with him,” You snapped, pushing Aki out the way as the cashier offered him a bag. 
You felt a flutter of satisfaction as you know he’s glaring at your head before exiting the store, where the two of you took a shortcut into an alley.
“Ow, fuck!” Your hand flinched to your cheek after biting into a chip, acutely reminded of the pain residing there. You emitted a sound of pure disgust as you eyed Aki’s head. “Next time, I’m gonna let you get split down the middle by the devil of the week.” 
A jolt of surprise. Aki halted his stride, hand in his pockets. He looked over his shoulder.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” You bit back. “Really.”
“Hm.” Aki nodded, understanding. “Then … Who’s gonna take care of you?” 
You bit down on what remained of your chip, despite the pain. 
“Ex-fucking-scuse me?” You growled. 
“It’s as I said.” Aki turned to face you. “Who’s gonna take care of you, if I’m not here?” 
Your lips parted. The nerve … You dropped your bag. You charged toward Aki, knocking the grocery bag out of his hand, head tilted up to sneer at him. 
“I outta kill you for that.”
Aki’s eyes remained leveled on yours. Before they flickered down to your lips. 
“But you won’t.”
You felt hot tar boil in the chamber of your chest. You squeezed the neck of the chip back until your fingers itched for something else ― 
Aki was there first: he plunged hands into your chest, dragged you to the sidewall of the alley and trapped you there with his arm, caging you in.
Shock sent your eyes blinking furiously. 
Aki’s gaze hadn’t left your lips. “And I won’t let you die, either.”
He surged forward, his lips crashing against yours. 
Your gasp lodged in your throat. Shock opened your mouth for Aki to slip his tongue in. He shared the spice in your mouth as surprise kept you paralyzed.
Until it didn’t; you kicked him in the shin and threw a punch at him, only for him to catch your clench fist and pin it to the wall. 
“The fuck are you doing?”
You struggled as Aki caught your other arm.
“Let’s settle something right now,” he said, monotone, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the last few seconds, and it infuriated you. “You don’t like me and I don’t like you. But this …” Aki pressed into you, “whatever this is ― is interfering with our work. So let’s handle it and be on our way.”
“I don’t ― nurgh ―!” You continued fighting him, “ ― know what you’re talking about!”
“Oh?” Aki brushed his knee against your crotch where it met the slick accumulating there, dampening the fabric of your pants suit. “This is odd, then …”
Your cheeks grew hot. 
Aki crept to your ear. “What’s this” ― Aki grazed the hill of his knee into your cunt ― “then?”
You were sick of Aki’s breath hitting your face, of the wafts of his cologne making you dizzy. If it weren’t for the fucking dumpster obscuring you from the alley way, you knew he would begetting stoned right now. Still, you could scream.
… So why weren’t you?
Aki trailed kisses up your neck. You were waning off the fight as he pressed himself up against you. You sighed as he nibbled and licked at the skin at the junction of your neck and jaw, fantasized about where to bury his body as he bit hard ― hard enough to leave you marked up afterward.
“Asshole …” You moaned as, in a flash, he had both your wrists by one hand while other found your breast, kneading the soft flesh and exciting the nub probing his palm.
He stopped to come eye level with you.
“I’m gonna let go,” he murmured. “We good?”
“Never.” Your eyes flickered to the side of the street. “Aren’t you at least a little weirded out about doing it in a public place?”
Finally, emoting; Aki raised his brow. “When’d you get so law-abiding?”
He let you go, as promised.
You rolled your eyes and grabbed his face ―
“You’re an ass.”
You kissed him. One hand flew to his tie to drag him by it. You bit at his lip as he swept his tongue against yours ― this time you let him, sighing as his hands grazed your neck to caress your face.
“Always ― mm,” You spoke between kisses, “thinking you’re ― mmf ― better than everyone else.”
“In what way?” Metallic clinking told you Aki was unbuckling his belt.
You hopped into Aki’s arms and miraculously he caught you in his arms. You wrapped arms and legs around him, sucking against his tongue as he lay determined to explore your mouth. 
“You’re ― mmm!” You cried out as Aki, finally done undoing his pants, snuck a hand in yours to play with your clothed cunt. “You always ― ah ― think you’re above it all ―”
“I don’t think I’m better than anyone,” Aki said, slipping his hand past the band of your panties. He found your clit with expert speed that disgusted you. “Just you.”
Your head thud against the wall, lips parting as Aki slipped two fingers inside you at once. “Fuuck …” A series of drawn-out moans escaped you as his long, long fingers invited themselves into your drenched hole. 
“Fuck you,” You managed to finish.
His mouth moved against yours, the ghost of a smirk haunting your lips. His other hand gripped your jaw to keep you facing forward. He ground into you, the hefty brick of his erection rocking into your inner thigh. 
The bastard had the nerve to be huge.
“You’re not wet enough,” Aki observed.
You broke the kiss, a bridge of spit connecting your lips, to sneer at him. “Who’s fault is that, simp? Gonna get on your knees for me? Should be easy; just pretend I’m Makima.”
He glared, blue eyes growing glacial. “You’re such a bitch.”
You smirked, considering his anger a victory.
“Just for that ―”
Like lightning, his fingers were in your mouth, forcing it open. Aki spit onto your tongue.
You screamed ― a high, girlish scream brought on by shock ― as he took his fingers out.
“There,” Aki said. “That’s better.”
“Bastard!”
Aki worked his cock from his trousers as your face contorted with rage, pulling your panties and pants to hook on your knees. You refused to look down, knowing full well he was huge and would split you open so good ―
“Let’s just finish this,” he said.
“Yes,” You echoed as he slid the tip of his cock on your fleshy folds. How dare he accidentally discover a kink of yours? How dare! “Let’s.”
He slid into you. Your moan mingled with his. Aki’s fist slammed into the wall as he kept on entering inch by inch. You lurched forward, biting into the shoulder pad of his suit. 
Aki offered you no grace period, fucking into you immediately upon filling you to the hilt. One of your legs slumped to the ground as the other hooked tight around Aki’s waist. Your body bounced with the power of his thrusts. You clenched your teeth, too proud to admit you preferred his wolfish approach.
You reached behind Aki to tug at the ponytail you hated so much, wrenching it from his hair and pulling it free. Aki jerked his head and dark locks fell around his face. You pulled yourself toward him, lips grazing the side of his cheek.
“Knew ― ah ― you wanted to fuck me,” You said into his ear, biting at the shell of it. “Only ― aha ― a matter of when ―”
“Will anything shut you up?” Aki growled.
You laid your head back and rolled it toward him with a smile. You opened your mouth, waiting for him to take the hint. Aki rolled his eyes and shoved three fingers into your mouth. You sucked, closing your eyes to enjoy what of this you could. Aki slapped lazily at your clit; you dug your heel into his back.
Aki was all around you; inside of you, against you, surrounding you. His cologne numbed your senses as he fucked you out of what little sense you had left. His balls slapped against your ass as his pace quickened, turned harder, harsher. His cock speared your insides, turning your legs to jelly. Aki’s muscles grew taut underneath his suit as you tried clinging to him for purchase. His hips jutted into you, rocking you bruise-building into the wall.
You buried a hand in his hair, pulling so hard you were sure some would be free from his scalp and pile in your palm. Aki grunted as you swept at his fingers. You startled when his fingers circled your clit. 
“Wanna see you cum around me,” he said. “Wanna see you forced to shut your mouth for once.”
You opened said mouth to retort something quick and clever ― love to see you try, Makima-simp ― but a loud moan escaped as Aki tore at your walls. His thick cock bruised your insides so thoroughly you were sure you would soon feel him in your throat.
Shit, he might just do it.
He gripped your hips, brought you forward to meet one of his thrusts, and knocked the air from your lungs as he bottomed out inside of you. 
A tightness spread taut inside you, drawing your toes to curl and your head to fog. You clung tighter to Aki as his pace showed no sign of letting up.
“Ah! Aahh!”
“Go on,” Aki urged, the husk in his voice alerting you he was close to a climax of his own. His fingers whirled around your aching clit.
“Gonna cum ―” You rasped, out of your mind.
“Go on, finish on my cock ― urgh!”
Aki made to pull out ― your clenching pussy guaranteed he didn’t. He pressed his forehead against yours, grunting through gritted teeth as you fell apart around him, milking him for all he was worth and more. You pulled on his jacket hard enough to rip out the sleeves. A faint warmth filled you as you bit your lip, grinding up against Aki to ride out your climax. 
“Ah, fuuuck!” You bent your head, pulling Aki close by the back of his. “F ―Fuck …”
The pleasure crescendoed. You bit your cheek, surely drawing blood. The thrill began to wane. Minutes reclaiming lost oxygen restored your sanity. You opened your eyes and through the haze saw Aki pull out at last, a rope of his cum slipping from your cunt a few seconds later.
Aki realized it before you did. “Damnit.”
“Oh, good going, genius.” You hastened to pull your underwear and pants up before you could leak over yourself. “I can’t wait to tell everyone Aki Hayakawa’s pull-out game is weak as shit.”
Aki didn’t answer, watching you as he dressed himself. “I’m sorry.”
Oh, no. You were not about to let him turn this into a serious moment. “Don’t worry about it.” You sighed, waving him off with one hand while ironing your clothes down with the other. “I got it covered. You know I’m never gonna let you live this down, though, right?”
You laughed as Aki closed his eyes. His eyebrow twitched.
“Yeah.”
Aki languidly retrieved the abandoned snacks. The two of you resumed your way down the alley. You looped an arm around Aki’s neck to pull him close.
“Maybe I was wrong,” You whispered into his side. “Maybe you’re not so bad.”
He side-eyed you. “I hate you.”
You flashed him an innocuous smile.
“No, you don’t.”
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bobmckenzie · 4 months
Text
cold weather -> drabblecember day 1
word count: 670
blurb: Bob using the cold weather as his 8735th excuse to cuddle up to Caitie
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The outdoor ice rink was crowded, as it always was on winter evenings. Bob never minded much—he was a good enough skater from years of hockey that it was easy enough to move around clumsy kids or couples holding hands. Caitie, on the other hand, wasn’t so good yet. 
She’d gotten decent enough that she didn’t need to cling onto his arm, or even hold his hand anymore—much to his dismay—but she still wasn’t so good at stopping. After a sharp turn to avoid plowing straight into someone’s back, instead banging her knee on the boards around the rink, she told the group she was gonna buy some nachos and sit it off.
Everyone decided getting a bite to eat sounded pretty good, so they joined her in the walk to the concession stand, skates thudding against the rubber padding surrounding the rink. Pam and Rosie ordered slices of pizza, Doug got a hotdog, and Bob offered to split the cost of nachos with Caitie if they could share. The six of them headed over to two of the steel benches, tucking into their food and hot chocolates.
“Your knee okay?” Bob asked, reaching for a chip from the little paper food boat balancing on both their legs. So maybe the offer to share nachos was an excuse to sit close to her. Maybe he’d been craving fries, but not quite as much as he craved being near enough that he could smell her perfume.
“Probably more than my pride,” she joked with a smile.
“Everybody’s run into the boards before, eh.” He shrugged a shoulder, hoping to make her feel better. He shivered as a breeze blew by and burrowed a little further into his coat. Caitie’s cheeks and nose were pink from the cold, and he had no doubt her fingertips were freezing in those fingerless gloves she was wearing.
He glanced over at Pam and Rosie, who were sitting on the bench across from theirs. They were snuggled up together, his arm around her shoulders, her body nestled right up against his side, both looking warm and content.
He gestured to them with a nod. “They’ve got the right idea, eh?” He played it off as a joke, an excuse for his next move: scooching even closer and wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. 
She laughed, so it seemed to work. He supposed she was used to it by now—he was always finding excuses to touch, to be closer. 
“You’re chewing in my ear,” she complained, though her voice carried a smile.
“It’s too cold!” He feigned dramatics, pretending to shake from the low temperature. The leather of her jacket was cold against his skin, but he’d freeze before moving away. “I need, like, human warmth!”
She giggled, picking out another chip. “I don’t think you’re getting any, considering how many layers I have on.”
“I dunno—I feel warmer. Maybe you’re, like, shielding me from the wind, eh.” He nuzzled a little closer, nearly completely forgetting the pretense of this all being a funny, chaste joke. Surrounded by her sweet aroma, he spoke without thinking, “Plus you smell real good, eh.”
If he looked up, he would’ve seen a deep blush flourish on her face. Still, he could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Thanks.” She lifted a chip up to his mouth since his arms were no longer free. “Here. You paid for half, don’t let me eat all of ‘em.”
He opened up, eating the chip with a smile and speaking as he chewed, “See? Like, why would I move anyway if you’re gonna feed me, eh?”
“Don’t,” She laughed and relaxed against him, settling into his embrace. “It is warmer like this.”
He grinned dopily, hugging her just a bit tighter, letting himself pretend for a moment that he could cuddle up to her without an excuse. That they were a couple making PDA too, instead of just two friends goofing off. “Told ya so.”
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alexa-crowe · 11 months
Text
Mother’s Day, 2008
“Mornin’, Mama,” Mulder rumbles from behind her, brushing her hair away from her neck to press a kiss there. “It’s your day...” His voice is a bit sing-song and she chuckles. “Don’t fall back asleep. I’m gonna grab Will.”
Scully nods against her pillow and pretends to be alseep as the bed dips, the floor creaking as Mulder exits the room. He returns shortly, his slower floor creaks mixed with fast-paced patters before their son leaps onto the bed and crawls on top of her.
“Happy Mommy’s Day!” Will greets, and she opens her eyes, letting her grin escape.
His face is right in front of hers but she doesn’t react, used to his lack of personal space when it comes to his parents. “C’mere, Wim,” she says, jostling him around as she rolls over onto her back and pulls up the blanket next to her. Will crawls underneath and snuggles into her. “You too, I want both my boys.”
Mulder obeys with a grin, also leaping onto the bed, and Will screeches as Scully laughs, the bed bouncing them around. He climbs under the blanket, completing Scully’s boy bracket. “What do you want to eat today?” Mulder asks, head propped up on his arm.
Scully stretches her arm around Will as he fiddles with her cross. “Mmm... Pancakes. Blueberry. Do we still have any?”
“I think so. Still in the fridge last I saw.” He playfully trains his gaze on their son. “And we’ve got some chocolate chips, too, for the ragamuffin here.”
“Mulder...” she whines, but she’s still smiling.
“It’s been seven years of me calling him ‘ragamuffin’, Scully, I think it’s a little late to give him a new nickname.”
“I like it!” the kid pitches in, perching his chin on her boob.
Scully hisses and shifts him over, petting his head. “Not on my boob, baby.”
He gives her a gap-tooth grin, and it’s all Mulder. “Sorry, Mommy.”
“C’mon,” Mulder says, shifting out from under the blanket. “Let’s give Mommy a great send-off because work didn’t give her off today!”
Scully covers her face as she laughs, swiping it down before following her Mulder boys downstairs for breakfast.
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thecaptainstevie · 29 days
Text
Yeah I'm just gonna schedule these things so they'll be posted regularly. You can find the other ones here and here.
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April: How would you like your pancakes? Donnie: Plain. Mikey: With sprinkles! Raph: Chocolate chips. Leo: Potatoes. *Donnie, Mikey, and Raph look at Leo* Leo: What? They're good.
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April: Who the fuck broke the toaster? Mikey: It was Raph. Donnie: It was Raph. Leo: Raph broke it. Raph: Raph: ...yOU PROMISED-
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Leo: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff. April: I witnessed the dumb stuff. Donnie: I recorded the dumb stuff. Mikey: I joined you in the dumb stuff. Raph: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!
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(more after the cut)
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Donnie: Unfollow me if you think the Earth is flat. April: *seriously pretends to be a flat-earther to antagonize the anti-flat-earther. Mikey: *neutral but makes polls to start fights, "Is the Earth flat? Let's discuss!"* Leo: *not a flat-earther but makes "the Earth may be flat but this ass ain't" jokes for viral tweets*. Raph: *actual flat-earther.*
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Leo: Hey, how did my phone break? Donnie: You were drunk yesterday. Leo: And? Raph: You threw it. Leo: Why? Mikey: You turned on airplane mode and kept screaming “FLY DAMN YOU!” Leo: And why didn’t you stop me?! April: We were busy laughing our asses off.
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Raph: What do rainbows mean to you? Leo: Gay rights. April: There's money. Mikey: The sign of God's promise to never destroy the whole Earth with a flood. Donnie: It is an optical phenomenon that separates sunlight into its continuous spectrum when the sun shines on raindrops.
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Mikey: Plants have feelings too?! What is this? Now I can't have food! April: You can eat a rock. Raph: Air. Donnie: The fabric of time and space. Leo: Chugging a bottle of bleach can solve all your problems. Mikey: You guys are not helpful.
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April: Look guys, I need help. Leo: Love help? Raph: Financial help? Mikey: Emotional help? Donnie: Help moving a body? *Everybody looks at Donnie* Donnie: What?
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Mikey: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Raph will and will not eat. Leo: Grass? Yes! Mikey: Moss? Yes!! Leo: Leaves? Ohh, yes! Mikey: Shoelaces? Strange but true! Leo: Worms? Sometimes! Mikey: Rocks? Usually nah. Leo: Twigs? Usually! Mikey: April's cooking? Inconclusive! Donnie: How did you… test this? Mikey: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it. Donnie: ... I don’t know how to feel about this. April: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?
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Raph: Hey, can we stay in your dorm tonight? Leo: Why? Raph: Donnie fiddled with an ouija board and cursed ours. Mikey: April doesn't know how to banish spirits, so they just throw salt at them and yell "DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A HOTEL TO YOU?!"
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More soon
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fourmula1 · 1 year
Note
Would you consider writing more apocalypse maxiel please? 🥺
Daniel knew they couldn’t stay here forever. It was nice to just pretend, for a little while, though.
He’d broken in through an unlocked window, heaved his body up and through where he’d landed in a back bedroom – a guest bedroom, by the bland looks of it.
Daniel adjusted the bandana up over his face a bit, the bottom bits tucked into the zip of his hoodie, close around his face. He’d have to clear the house before he could let Max inside and he didn’t really know how effective covering his face was to the virus but. So far he and Max were okay.
Daniel didn’t want to risk any infected persons being in the house, though. Or corpses. The world went to fucking shit before the research was really out on if dead bodies were a risk or not. No one knew. He didn’t want to risk it.
Quietly, bow knife in his hand, Daniel crept out of the bedroom and into the hall where he peered into a master suite. The bed sheets were rumpled, but everything was dusty. No one had been here in some time. He continued down to the second room, an office, and found more dust and papers strewn about. This neighbourhood hadn’t been ransacked, which Daniel was surprised to learn. They’d seen no signs of other life when they came through and Daniel was kind of grateful. It’d been him and Max alone for a little while. They’d met people here and there, stayed a few nights with a group or two, but for the most part Max didn’t trust anyone but Daniel, and Daniel found it hard to find fault in that.
Creeping down the hall Daniel peered into the living room, the kitchen, and found nothing. Relieved, he approached the front door to let Max in. He’d left Max out hiding in the driveway behind an abandoned car, told him to come find Daniel if he’d not emerged in five minutes.
Turning the lock, the door creaked open and Daniel stuck his head out.
“Max,” he called, waiting for Max to join him, locking the door back behind when Max slipped inside. He tugged the bandana down off his face, safe to breathe in the walls of this abandoned home.
“This is nice,” Max said as he glanced around. It’d be a good stop for the night. For a few nights. Before the need for water and food pushed them on again.
“I checked all the rooms, no one’s been here in ages,” Daniel said as he slid his knife back into the holster on his hip. “I’m gonna see if there’s anything edible in the cupboards,” he said, heading off for the kitchen. Max dropped their backpack by the door and sighed, relieved briefly of the weight of carrying their entire lives on his back.
Daniel opened the pantry cupboards, checked for non-perishables, anything they could eat or take with them. Dusty canisters of baking ingredients, an unopened bag of chocolate chips (he’s definitely taking it), a few cans of vegetables – green beans, corn, mixed vegetables - , and two cans of chicken noodle soup. Daniel groans in appreciation. The expiration dates are good, they’re eating tonight.
“Oh my god!” Max cries from down the hall, but it’s excited, not terrified. Daniel almost panics as he yanks his head out of the cupboard and moves to the hallway entrance to shout after him.
“What? What is it?” He asks, grinning as Max’s head pops out from the bathroom. In his hand he’s holding an electric razor.
“It’s battery operated! It works!” He says, eyes lit up in a way Daniel hasn’t seen in a long time. Daniel can’t help but to laugh – delighted, thrilled, so appreciative of the tiniest things in life, these days. Max absolutely hates his facial hair; patchy, itchy, nothing he’s gotten used to as they’ve been on the move.
“Your lucky day, Maxy,” Daniel grins, laughing and shaking his head. “Have at ‘er,” he says as he dips back to the kitchen. The power grid has been out for weeks at this point and he knows there’s no hope of using the stove or microwave.
Luck strikes him in his investigation of the garage. A camp-stove powered by propane. He lugs it out to the backyard, sets up on the little deck of the house and goes back inside the patio doors to find a can opener and a pot to cook their soup.
When Max emerges he’s almost clean-shaven; as clean as an electric razor can get, and Daniel��s heart clenches. There’s his sweet, beautiful, boyish face. Daniel loves all the Maxes he’s seen over the years but he really hasn’t seen this one in a long time and he takes the opportunity to run his fingertips over Max’s cheeks, pulls him in for a kiss.
“Pretty,” Daniel says before going back to turn the little stove off.
He’s grateful for this little respite with the locked doors and windows, a bed to sleep in. He knows it won’t be forever. Others will be out prowling in the exact same way they are, and they’ve learned by now that most people cannot be trusted these days.
Soon what little food left behind here will run out, and even sooner their water will, and they’ll be off once more.
For now, sat at a kitchen table, eating with real dishes and cutlery like a normal person, Daniel savours it and lets himself have just this moment of peace.
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onlybones666 · 2 years
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18/7/22
today has not been too bad i guess. i had my first meal at 2pm when my mum got home from work. ik i said that i would pretend to have it before but i lost track of time. i was tempted to have a large lunch around 800 calories however i had a sandwich again, it is kinda becoming a comfort food as it is usually less calories than other options especially without having butter on it. this was around 300 calories. i’m honestly so happy i didn’t have anything bigger for lunch as i didn’t feel as guilty about it. then at 6:30pm i had dinner which was more than usual. i had a beef burger on a bun (no butter) with one cheese slice and one piece of english bacon without the fat. i also had some homemade chips and some dip. this was around 800 calories. i didn’t expect to have that big of a dinner but i didn’t get much choice in the matter as my mum had already served it. although i then decided to go on the exercise bike in which i burned 300 calories. i then did 200 sit-ups and the same 10 minutes arm workout burning around 180 calories again. i think i’m going to try and do at least 200 sit-ups every night along with the workout to see if it makes any difference. overall i have eaten 1100 calories and burned 480 leaving a net calories of 620. i am also proud of myself as my farther tried repeatedly pushing me to eat one of the remaining chocolate bars from yesterday but i said no and didn’t eat it. i finally weighed myself today and it is what i weighed last time. although i’m still upset i’m not at my lowest weight anymore i thought it would have been a lot worse and i would have gained more since. i am currently 136lbs. it makes me feel disgusted in myself even thinking about it but now i’ve shared this i will feel more motivated to loose weight so i don’t humiliate myself and show how pathetic i am if i don’t. it’s my father’s birthday on sunday and i am supposed to be baking a cake but i know once i make it i’m gonna binge on it. it is already stressing me out but i said i would so i can’t really go back on my words. maybe i’ll be able to control myself and only have a small piece but i know that it’s highly unlikely. i am also thinking about joining a gym because that way i have an excuse to burn a shit ton of calories but i’m just too anxious to actually call the place to sort out the membership and how things work. idk if ill end up doing but it’s a good idea especially when i’ve got nothing better to do with my time.
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archived-kin · 2 years
Text
first comes love, then comes marriage...
note from kin: i woke up one day and went “i think mammon would love a partner who completely matches his energy”, so this one is just you and mammon both being loud idiots who are so so dumb but also love each other so so much
this feels short but given my track record for putting Too Many Words (readers of jtta will understand this), maybe i’m being a bad judge of length???
fandom: obey me!
character(s): gn!reader, mammon, asmo, satan, various rad students
pairing(s): mammon/reader, + satan and asmo as your besties :D
warning(s): nope!
genre: fluff
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“So…”
“So,” You echo as Asmo sits down across from you, reaching across the table to tweak your nose in greeting.
“You’re not eating with Mammon today,” He says, putting on a faux-sympathetic expression and tipping his head to the side. “Did you have a fight?”
“No?” You take a large bite of your sandwich and chew on it for a moment as Asmo continues to scrutinise you as if he thinks you’re keeping a secret. “We just hang out with different people sometimes.”
He looks across the cafeteria, over at where Mammon’s excitedly recounting something to a table of intrigued-looking buddies. “...well, he sure looks like he’s having a good time.”
“He’s having a good time because he’s talking about [Name],” interjects Satan, coming up out of nowhere and joining you on your side of the table with his usual lunch-in-a-brown-paper-bag. “I overheard when I walked past. So you went to a museum last week?”
“Uh huh.” His eyebrows lift at that, and you give him a slightly suspicious look. “...what’s that look for?”
“Nothing in particular,” He answers casually, looking away to focus on opening his lunch bag. “I’m just surprised you actually got him to pay attention. How’d you manage to find an exhibit he was actually interested him?”
“I just knew which ones to show him,” You say nonchalantly. “Like the cool vase. It was so cool that this one guy just stood there staring at it from across the room the whole time.”
“Right.” Satan raises an eyebrow at you, smiling in mild amusement. “Are you sure that wasn’t just a statue?”
“...it definitely wasn’t,” You say after a moment, deciding that you don’t want to contemplate the alternative. There’s no way you and Mammon are that stupid. “You’d know it too if you saw the vase. It was a really cool one.”
“So you keep saying,” He replies with a sigh, unwrapping a muffin and beginning to pick out the chocolate chips like a heathen, like he always does even though he knows you hate it. “But, you know, it sounded to me like Mammon was paying more attention to you than the vase. He’s talking a lot more about the look on your face than any of the exhibits.”
You nod seriously. “Yeah, it’s a problem for both of us. The other day I was talking to Levi, see, and he went—” - you put on a weird, Spongebob-y kind of voice - “— ‘Are you actually gonna tell me about the cafe or are you just gonna keep talking about Mammon the whole time?’ Like that.”
“A cafe?” asks Satan in clear anticipation, while Asmo pretends he didn’t start recording you in the middle of your Levi impression. “What kind?”
“Not a cat one,” You say, and Satan immediately drops all pretence of interest in what you’re saying. “Anyway, we talked about it a bit, and we both figured that you guys can just suck it up and listen or turn off your ears, 'cause we like talking about each other, so we’re gonna keep doing it.”
“Well, good for you, hon,” Asmo smiles and gives you a little thumbs-up of approval. He pauses, then asks, this time wearing an oddly devious expression, “Soooo… how are things going with Mammon.”
You give him a vaguely confused look. “...good? Were you not listening to the… the everything that I just said?”
“No, I mean, like…” He gives you a coy sort of look. “...are you two… serious yet?”
You consider for a moment, reaching for your juice box and beginning to chew absently on the end of your straw. Across the canteen, Mammon laughs so loudly at something that several demons around him shoot him disgruntled looks. “Dunno. What’s your definition of serious?”
“Well, you know me…” He does something funny with his hands. “Have you, like... sealed the deal? Made it official? Maybe even… got it on?”
“Got what on?” You ask cluelessly, still contemplating his original question. Satan, meanwhile, gives Asmo a mildly distasteful look. “...y’know, I don’t know if we ever did make it official…”
Before either Asmo or Satan have a chance to ask you what you’re planning, you stand up, cup your hands around your mouth, and yell across the canteen, “HEY, MAMMON!”
He snaps around to look at you so quickly that you have to wonder if he was waiting for you to call out to him. “YEAH?”
“ARE WE OFFICIAL YET?”
“HUH?”
“ARE— WE— OFFICIAL— YET?”
“WHY’RE YA ASKIN’ ME THAT NOW?”
“JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!”
“UH— SURE, GO ON!”
“NICE!”
“LOVE YA!”
“LOVE YOU TOO!” You holler back, before finally sinking back down into your seat. Mammon, meanwhile, turns to carry on his conversation with his own lunch buddies, wearing a satisfied and slightly abashed smile.
“I cannot believe you,” Asmo sighs. “You couldn’t be more romantic about it?”
“Romantic isn’t a word in my dichotomy,” You say breezily. “But, I dunno, I reckon we can get pretty lovey-dovey…”
“Dictionary, not dichotomy, and that literally means the same thing,” Satan corrects - two in one go, like the smart-ass he is. He looks around the cafeteria, then grimaces. “...what was that for, anyway? We’re getting stared at now.”
“I’m getting stared at, actually,” You say, pretending to wave like a celebrity at the several demons still sending you disdainful looks. “I love my fans.”
Satan follows your line of sight and aims a glare at one of the demons giving you a particularly mean-spirited look - at which point they quickly turn to face the other direction. Of course, he decides to follow that sweet little act of friendship with a very sarcastic,  “You’re going to make Asmo jealous.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Asmo shakes his head airily. “Two hundred against fifty thousand, it’s hardly a fair competition…”
“There aren’t even thirty thousand students at the R.A.D!” You object. “You liar!”
He gives you a slightly pitying look. “I’m talking about our Devilgram followers, hon.”
“Oh… hey, that’s not fair!” You point at him with theatrically narrowed eyes. “I post better stuff than you, anyway. It’s not my fault demons don’t appreciate good humour…”
“Twenty puns about trees in a row is hardly good humour,” Satan deadpans, even though you both know he liked every single one of those damn tree puns. “I’m surprised you have any followers at all.”
Spoken like a true guy who is following you. You scowl at him - mostly playfully. “You’re so mean to me.”
“And Mammon treats you like you’re the universe’s gift to demonkind,” He replies with a shrug. “I’d like to think I’m balancing that out.”
You think about this for a while, then hum and lean forward on the table, lifting your left hand to block out your view of Satan’s face. “...I think I am the universe’s gift to demonkind, though.”
“Of course you are, hon,” agrees Asmo with an indulgent smile.
Satan, on the other hand, raises an eyebrow at you, then asks, “Did you come with a receipt if we want to return you?”
“Satan!” Asmo gives him a scandalised look, and you can’t entirely tell if it’s serious or not. “Don’t talk like that to the universe’s gift to us!”
“Asmo,” You say, eyes wide and voice wondering like a child in a cheesy Christmas movie, “I love you.”
He smiles at you brightly. “Love you too, hon, but don’t let Mammon hear you saying that.”
“He doesn’t mind,” You dismiss. “I mean, he did before, but he doesn’t anymore, cause we talked about it. I say the same words, but they mean a different thing when I say it to him, cause he’s my one and on-lyyyyyy…”
“Great speech, [Name],” sighs Satan. “I’ll save it for your wedding.”
“Oooo, a wedding,” You say, eyes round. “You know, I always thought it’d be fun to get married in one of those blow-up dinosaur costumes. I bet Mammon’d do it if I asked him.”
“He’d blow up the R.A.D. if you asked him, that’s not a high bar to cross,” Satan replies, shaking his head, then pauses and looks you in the face properly. “...are you seriously considering marrying him?”
You grin and shrug. Asmo gasps loudly and drops his half-eaten apple. “No, are you serious?! Wait, wait, there’s no way you’re having a wedding in dinosaur costumes—
“Oh, yeah, totally. I could ask him now, actually, get that out the way so we can start planning—HEY, MAMMON!” You call again, before either of the others can stop you. He swivels around to face you again. “D’YOU WANNA GET MARRIED?”
A disbelieving grin breaks across his face, so wide that it’s clearly visible even from the other side of the room. “WHAT?”
“DO— YOU— WANT— TO— GET— MARRIED— TO— ME?”
“WH— REALLY?!”
“DO YOU WANT TO OR NOT?”
“WELL, YEAH, TOTALLY!”
“AWESOME! WHEN DO YOU WANT THE WEDDING?”
“SATURDAY SOUND GOOD?”
“YEAH, SOUNDS GREAT!”
“LOVE YA!”
“LOVE YOU TOO!”
“I’m going to be sick,” Satan says flatly as you turn to face your two lunch table friends again. Despite his words, he doesn’t look nauseous at all, so you think that maybe he’s lying.
The rest of lunch is spent pretending to be interested in the many, many pictures Asmo shows you on his D.D.D., while Satan pretends not to be invested in this apparent wedding that’s happening on Saturday, and acts as if he won’t cry if you don’t ask him to get involved. You do contemplate not letting him in on preparations, but that’d be a bit mean-spirited, even if he did deserve it.
You’re not entirely sure if the wedding’s actually on or not, but either way you’ve already decided that Asmo can be your maid of honour and Satan your best man. (Usually the two marrying parties only get one of those each, but you think you deserve both.) Diavolo would probably agree to officiate, and maybe Lucifer would do the walking-down-the-aisle if you begged him super hard… of course, there’d be a very short guest list, but you’d like it better that way, anyway…
You’re not ashamed to say that you pay absolutely no attention to the rest of your lessons that day, too caught up in contemplating what exactly would change if you and Mammon did suddenly just get hitched. Not much, right? It’s not like marriage will suddenly make you love each other more (and personally you think you already love each other the perfect amount). What do people even get married for in the first place, actually…?
Later, Mammon catches up with you as you’re leaving the R.A.D., greeting you as usual by charging up and throwing his arms around your shoulders from behind. He falls into step beside you, oddly quiet for the first few minutes, swinging your hand back and forth like a thoughtful pendulum.
“...are you actually serious?” He asks finally. “About the… the marryin’ thing?”
You shrug and knock your shoulder gently into his. “If you want me to be.”
He’s quiet for another few moments. “...well, yeah, obviously.”
“Big commitment, marriage,” You say lightly after a moment.
“Psh,” Mammon shakes his head with a scoff. “I don’t reckon it’s that big a deal, is it? I know I like you, so if I wanna marry you, I will.”
“...yeah, it really isn’t a big deal,” You decide after a few seconds. “And it’s like we’ll like each other less just ‘cause we didn’t sign a contract, either.”
“Right?” The two of you continue walking in comfortable silence for a while. “...but, y’know… it does sound kinda nice. A contract’s all official, right? So, like… that’d make us official.”
“We’re already official, though. Remember at lunch?”
“Well, yeah, but…” He shrugs a little, giving your hand three light squeezes in quick succession. “...a contract’s kinda different. And, I dunno, the matching rings’d be nice.”
“Like a symbol,” You agree. “That you’re my dumbass forever.”
“I’m already your dumbass forever, idiot.”
“Your idiot. Also forever.”
“Forever does sound pretty great.” Mammon slows down a little. “...maybe Saturday’s too soon for somethin’ big and important like that. Weddings are usually, like, hyper-planned or somethin’, aren’t they?”
“Nah, there’s no fun in that,” You dismiss. “If we leave it too long, we’ll start second-guessing, and that’s no fun, either. I reckon we should just do whatever feels right, no take backs.”
He snickers. “Yeah, no take backs. And no take backs on the marryin’ thing, either, got it?”
“Got it. You know you’re never getting rid of me after that, right?”
“Yeah, ‘course. Fine by me.”
“...is fine good?’
“Fine’s the best, actually.”
“The best,” You repeat, wondering if you’d somehow get into trouble if you just threw yourself at him now. “You know what? You’re really great.”
Mammon looks at you, and for a moment his entire expression just brims with adoration. “...yeah. You’re pretty great, too.”
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I used to have binge eating disorder and was super embarrassed about it and I feel like its an eating disorder that people are super ashamed of having. If you're comfortable could you write one where Spencer has binge eating disorder and is embarrassed about it, with Morgan comforting him.
cw: food mention, eating disorder, brief mention of Tobias Hankel
There’s a knock at Spencer’s door, and he immediately starts to panic. When he glances out through the peephole, Morgan is standing there waiting for him.
“I can hear you in there, Reid,” he calls. “Don’t pretend you’re not home.”
“I’m busy right now,” Spencer replies weakly. “Can you come back later?”
“I can wait for you until you’re done with whatever it is you’re doing,” Morgan says. “I’ve been trying to get you alone to talk for weeks now and you keep avoiding me. Let me in or I’m letting myself in.”
Spencer doesn’t let him in, instead standing frozen in the middle of his kitchen, wondering what he’s supposed to do next. The whole countertop is covered in dishes and food wrappers. The garbage can is overflowing. Spencer would give anything to just disappear right now.
There’s a click and the front door opens. Morgan steps in, closing the door behind him, then turning to stare at Spencer.
“Pretty boy?” he says gently. “What’s going on?”
There are three empty boxes of cereal sitting next to the sink. A half empty box of poptarts. Tupperware containers of leftovers strewn about, a fork sitting in one, and an open bag of chocolate chips spilling on top of a stack of toaster waffles.
“Get out,” Spencer whispers. “Please get out.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Morgan says. “Reid, tell me what’s going on. Did you have people over?”
Spencer shakes his head, beginning to feel floaty and dizzy, his brain determined not to have anything to do with what’s happening right now. He presses a hand up to his eye and grimaces.
“Headache?” Morgan asks, but Spencer shakes his head.
“Please go,” he tries one more time. “Please don’t make me do this.”
“Kid, you’ve been distant for months now. There’s obviously something bothering you. Please, would you just talk to me about it? Is this a– a food thing?”
Spencer sits down at the dining room table and buries his face in his arms.
“Reid? Spencer?”
Spencer gives up and nods.
“Yes, it’s a food thing?”
He nods again.
“Is it– are you making yourself sick?”
Spencer shakes his head.
“Is this like a binge eating thing?”
Instead of responding, Spencer sobs into his arms, wishing, again, that he could disappear. He would take being tied up at the hands of Tobias Hankel again over this, he thinks. This is a new level of humiliation, the fact that his closest friend now knows that he’s out of control. That he’s disgusting.
He feels a weight and lifts his head enough to see Morgan standing right next to him, one hand clapped down on Spencer’s shoulder. He shudders away from him.
“Hey, hey,” Morgan says softly. “It’s okay, kid. I promise, it’s okay.”
Spencer shakes his head.
“You don’t have to be ashamed of this, man,” Morgan says.
Spencer snorts out a laugh. “Right,” he mutters. “This is totally fine.”
“I didn’t say it was fine, kid, but you don’t need to feel shame about it. You’ve got a problem. Let’s fix it.”
“Good luck with that,” Spencer murmurs. “As you can see, I’ve done a great job of dealing with it on my own.”
“You aren’t alone anymore,” Morgan reminds him. “I’m here and I can help you.”
“Why would you want to do that?” Spencer asks. “I’ve done nothing but push you away. I’d still push you away, if I could.”
“Yeah, but you’re my friend, and I love you,” Morgan says. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily. Now, first thing’s first. Do you want some help cleaning up your kitchen?”
Spencer looks up at the mess, swaying back and forth slightly, completely overwhelmed by the sight in front of his eyes.
“Better yet,” Morgan says. “Why don’t you lie down while I clean this up? And then we can talk some more.”
“I don’t deserve your help,” Spencer sighs.
“Well, too bad,” Morgan says with a small smile. “Because you’ve got it anyway.”
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ptergwen · 3 years
Note
I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)
friends close, enemies closer
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ik this is cherry BUT i had to
w/c: 1.6k
warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness
a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)
-
you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.
you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.
the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.
peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.
bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.
this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.
you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.
that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.
“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”
god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.
you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.
“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.
about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.
“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”
here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.
you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”
he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.
“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”
of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…
you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.
“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.
he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.
you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”
your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.
“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”
he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?
“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”
although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.
would that be so terrible?
absolutely.
you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”
he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.
“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.
peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.
that’s a problem.
you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.
“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”
narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”
they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.
“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”
“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”
that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.
once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.
he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.
chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.
“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.
you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”
“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”
laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.
rivalry be damned.
“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”
you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.
“lead the way.”
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chipper-smol · 3 years
Text
Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Babysitter SL
Prompt: Shade (lord) is in the midst of final exams and they’re more stressed and tired than usual while babysitting. They accidentally fall asleep in the middle of a calm spell and the god babies become worried. The next time Shade comes over, all of the god babies present a gift they all made together!
By @minnesotamidian-blog​
Shade barely noticed their surroundings as they entered the nursery playroom. Plastic clattered and they sighed as Radiance yelled at the top of her lungs. At least she wasn't screaming. Yet. The scene was set: Unn was still in a crib and chewing on a bar, Root was climbing slowly onto a chair. Radiance was knocking over plastic blocks as Grimm cackled away. For once, Wyrm was playing peacefully with a kick toy, batting at it with his tail. Root got onto the chair and squealed, raising her arms. "Big Root now!" The little blue-eyed godling squeaked out.
Shade picked her up, hugged her to their chest before holding her out. "Now you're a flying Root."
She screamed laughter as Shade tiredly walked her around the room before setting her down near some of her favorite toys. They made sure nobody else had claimed the chair and took a seat, bending over to pick up the fussy moth. "Ancient enemy!" Of course she bit their hand.
Shade winced and just ran a hand over her fluff. "Are you hungry for something that isn't void?" They spoke tiredly.
"Oranges!" She yelled out.
The teen sighed as he went to the mini-fridge with snacks and found some miracle of miracles! pre-peeled oranges. Shade pulled them out and put her in a high chair with one at a time so she wouldn't be tempted to throw the extras at them.
Finals were here and they were really taking it out of the gangly god. Why did they have to know stuff about inorganic chemistry? Why did they have to know about history nobody cared about? There were some fun subjects, but the finals seemed to even suck the fun out of those classes, going over notes and studying everything just in case. They'd been pulling long nights and the night before had been an all-night cram session-and they still had to come to work, they couldn't afford not to. They'd underlined all the stuff the teacher had said was important to remember and had written down stuff from the last finals about each teacher's usual tests.
It made narrowing down what to study from impossible to I'm totally toast. They groaned as they set down a calmer Radiance the opposite side of the room from Wyrm. She found toys that interested her, at least. Root wandered over to Wyrm, who was really into knocking at the kick toy and purring. Root settled nearby and burbled as she hugged and gnawed a plushie.
The teen couldn't help it. The kids were calm for once; their head started to tilt forward, eyes heavy. They were exhausted. Shade's eyes closed and their breathing deepened. At first, their toys were too interesting to notice their babysitter's state; but it didn't take long for Grimm to get bored enough to fly over and notice. "...Shade? Shade's eyes are closed." They landed and the four children not in a crib headed for the batlike godling.
"Is Shade dead?" Wyrm sounded worried.
"Don't be stupid, they're having a nap!" Radiance huffed.
Root looked up and swayed before patting Shade's leg. "Grown-ups don't have nap times." She was tearing up.
"Nuh-uh, they're having bad dreams and it's tasty!" Grimm clamored onto their lap.
The others joined, Radiance grabbing Unn to join them on the sleeping teen. Grimm rested between Shade's horns, Unn was on one shoulder, Radiance on the other, with Root and Wyrm curled up together on Shade's lap, Wyrm purring for once.
When Shade woke up, they were surprised by the weight on their body and forced themself to look down and around before moving. "Uh oh, I fell asleep… sheesh, I'm glad this place isn't a fiery disaster." They picked the godlings up. "You're not dead!" Wyrm exclaimed.
Root burst into tears and even Grimm joined in on the crying spat. Shade sighed and spent the rest of the time comforting them until meal time and settled them down. Time to go home for them all!
But the worry didn't leave the heads of the little godlings. "We should make something for Shade. If they're having nightmares, they might be sad." Radiance sighed. "But that doesn't mean I feel bad for my ancient enemy!" "What do we make?" Root twirled around, slowly turning in place until she fell onto pillows in her dizziness.
"Something of clay! I can burn it dry!" Grimm hopped around.
"But there's no clay." Unn spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "But there's crayons and paper."
"Oooh. We can make a pretty picture for Shade!" Wyrm waved his head happily. The group went for papers and each started to draw on the paper. "You're taking up too much paper!" Wyrm whined.
Radiance complained in turn, pointing at the color he was using. "I want that color!"
Wyrm growled and argued back. "I had it first!"
They started rolling around over their drawings, biting and clawing. Grimm gave a solid scream that startled the two. "You ruined Shade's pretty pictures!" He yelled.
The two looked at each other and hung their heads. "...sorry." Radiance muttered.
"-'m sorry." Wyrm looked away from the moth, skulking. "Start again? You can have the crayon, Radiance…"
Radiance took the crayon and they all picked up the last piece of paper. "I think this is better." Root spoke cheerfully.
It was three days later, once Shade had a solid night's sleep and finals completed that they'd returned to work. A large construction sheet of paper in grey covered in scribbles and rough names and messages was waiting for them.
Feel better soon Shade
Love you
Best babysitter
Tastiest nightmare!
Not the worst anciant ancient enemy.Shade could only feel warmth and laugh, hugging the drawing to themself. There were some days the job felt like the best thing in the world.  ------------------------------- By @tomatotimes
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By @loud-whistling-yes
"No."
The kids protested louder. Shade lifted the TV remote higher up, now above their head.
"Screentime's over, I said no."
Wyrm attempted to crawl up their leg in what was a rather pathetic attempt at stealing the remote, but was promptly shaken off. Grimm tried next, flying overhead to snatch the controller. Shade ducked and grabbed him by the tail before he could send himself flying straight towards the ceiling fan for the third time that day.
"Find something else to do," Shade said as they stuffed the remote deep into their pocket, much to everyone else's dismay. "Look, as much as I'd love to shut you guys up for the whole day, you've all been staring at the TV for hours now and I don't want to get in trouble with your parents."
Louder complaints.
"No, no, no. I am not cracking this time." Shade announced as they pulled Radi, who was hissing like an angry cat, off their jeans and pulled their phone out. "You guys got me last week, never again. No more TV for you, we're doing something else before I lose my money for tonight. Google almighty, what is your suggestion."
activities to do with children
fun activities to do with children
activities to do with toddlers
what can I do with kids that isn't a major headache to deal with goddamnit
Go to the park? Shade took about half a second to consider the thought before wondering why they even thought it was possible anyways. Five kids from the deepest depths of hell, outdoors? No. No park.
Finger painting? A pain to clean up, but better than outdoors. Then they looked up from their phone and considered the idea with greater thought. Grimm's wings, Radi's legs, Unn and Wyrm's… er…. Body?.... Nevermind.
Play pretend? …. If they hear the name Hallownest one more time they might just go insane.
Hide and seek? No. No no no no no. No more hide and seek. Shade was utterly sick of hide and seek. If they had to spend another second stuffed inside the closet or trying to get Radi off the roof they'll probably quit the job right there and then.
Baking?
… That might work. Sure, cleaning up is gonna be absolute hell but it's the only thing Google suggested that they haven't tried yet without horrible results.
Shade stuffed their phone back into their pocket and made a getaway to the kitchen, everyone else following, probably still trying to get the remote back. Butter, eggs, flour, sugar, oh, even some chocolate chips…
"Well then," They declared, pulling every ingredient out of the cabinet and fridge. "We're making cookies! And no, no one is allowed to touch the oven when it's hot. If you guys behave we'll have cookies in like, an hour or something like that."
The kids watched in confusion as Shade ran around the kitchen, pulling out bowls and spoons and a bunch of other utensils while typing furiously on their phone.
Cookies recipe
Cookies recipe easy
Cookies recipe for beginners
Cookies recipe for kids
"What do you guys think about chocolate chip cookies?"
Multiple chitters of approval. "Chocolate chip cookies it is then."
Step one: sieve the flour. Oh wyrm, first step and it's already gonna go to shit.
"Okay, you guys can watch this but for the love of the holy wyrm, do not touch it." Shade measured the correct amount of flour before scooping Wrym and Unn off the floor onto the table so they could see while Radi pulled herself onto the chair. The Lady had already clinged herself onto their sweater and Grimm was doing just fine flying nearby.
“You guys get one chocolate chip each if you guys behave and don’t get flour everywhere.” Shade added. “Now, Lady, hold still and don’t move, I gotta keep my hands steady for this…”
************
"Okay, chocolate chip time." Shade popped open the jar of chocolate as the kids cheered. "Actually, we’re not supposed to be eating this plain, cause it's going into the cookies. But no one actually does that so you guys get five chips each for not setting the kitchen on fire so far."
"The recipe says a cup of chocolate chips but we all know that's a lie." They added while shoving their phone back in their pocket and grabbing a handful of chips before mixing the batter together. "I'm probably not someone you should take life lessons from, but here's one thing I can guarantee you should take to heart: never follow the recipe when it comes to chocolate chips, you count that with your soul."
Final step: oven time. The oven was preheated earlier, and the only thing left was to get the cookies into the tray and into the oven. "Now, who wants to make heart-shaped cookies?"
****************
Three deformed stars, five mutated trees, two malformed cats, several irregular hearts, a couple handfuls of chocolate eaten straight from the jar, and one (1) perfectly round cookie later, the cookies were on the tray, in the oven, and in a surprising turn of events, no one burned themselves… yet. Shade grabbed everyone and made sure no one was in a five-meter radius within the oven before picking up all the dirty bowls and utensils. “Cookies will have to sit in there for about 15 minutes, we’ll be cleaning up in the meantime.”
“Don’t look at me like that, and no whining, if you want cookies you gotta deal with the mess afterwards. That's the payoff, unless you're a wizard who has a passion for baking. Then that's fair, I guess." They dumped all the used utensils they could find and turned on the sink. The sief, three bowls, tablespoons and teaspoons.. Oh wait.
"Radi, the big wooden spoon, please?" Shade called, sponge in their hand and bowls being thoroughly rinsed.
Radi, of course, was not willing to help, because she's basically a feral house cat that just so happened to grow more legs than the average feline. Shade sighed and moved on to finding the next helper they could find.
"Grimm, I know you're touching the oven, stop it. I'm pretty sure you're immune to fire but not everyone else and you're setting a bad example for them. Get me the spoon please."
“Lady, here’s a cloth, help me dry the bowls up. Wyrm, … i have no idea how you can help, no limbs and all but uh, could you go get Unn? I have no idea where she went. Thanks.” The last sentence was to Grimm, who flew over with the mixing spoon and dropped it into the sink while Wyrm scurried away to find Unn, wherever she’s napping at.
"Radi? Radi, I know you're right behind me, stop pretending that you can't hear me. Lady has an extra cloth with her, you're on table wiping duty."
*********
“See? That wasn't so bad,” Shade sent the last of the bowls back into the cupboards and closed it shut. “And the cookies are pretty much done.”
“Also, no. You may not eat the cookies the moment I pull them out of the oven. These rules also apply to Grimm because it's unfair to everyone else.. Don’t look at me like that Grimm, I know you’ll eat them all before they cool and leave us nothing.”
The cookies smelt delicious, and were left on the dining table to cool. “Now that it's cooling down, it's naptime.”
A chorus of groans and wailing.
“It’ll be ready when you guys get up. Up up up, sleep time.”
**********
If you’ve been anywhere near toddlers before, you’d know that getting them to nap in their bedrooms is a near-impossible situation. And Shade was not a person who deals with near-impossible situations well. So following the months old custom, Shade turned on the tv, remote miraculously not pickpocketed, collapsed onto the couch, and waited for everyone piling on them to fall asleep before moving them into their bedroom and pretending they managed to wrangle them all into bed.
And it all goes to plan, the Lady and Wyrm were sound asleep on their lap, Radi and Unn were dozing off on their shoulders, and they're pretty sure the snoring from the top of their head was coming from Grmm. Now, step 2: get everyone off them and onto the beds.
… Or maybe later. It's been a long day, and the couch is pretty comfy. Yeah, just five more minutes, nothing wrong with that…
And if the parents came home to see a cleaner-than-expected kitchen, a tray of chocolate chip cookies, and five kids snoring on top of their babysitter, also sound asleep, then that’s nobody’s business.
And if the originally completely full jar of chocolate chips was pretty much empty, then that’s no one’s business as well.
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By @astronomicartz​
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By @hollow-kin​
Shade lord wanted to take a nap. They are sooo tired, but they are babysitting 5 baby gods for 5$/H. Grimm is a brat, Radiance his sister is also a brat. Unn was ether eating or seeping, same with grub1. Lady was, well sweet and cuddly. they needed to find a distraction for the kids, what would work?
Would tv work, would cartoons work? They had dinner already. Tv had to work or grub and radiance would destroy the house. They needed to take a nap. Now what to watch was a different question, they would have to ask the kids. “so, what do guys want to watch? “Movie!” well they were all in agreement, what was good. “What kind of movie do you guys want to watch?” “Fire!” “dath” “animal” “tree” “ok. No, we are NOT watching fire.” “awww” “i do not know what dath means so no. So nature show it is then.” they go over to the tv and turn it on, then select the world around us. Lady was quick to fall asleep, on their lap. Shade lord slowly fell asleep, and grub nested between grub and shade lord. Grimm climed up to shade lord's head. 
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By @hawaiianbabidoll
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By @neoliberalsatan
A gentle darkness surrounded the shade lord. He finally felt at ease. "finally", he thought, "rest." it didn't take long after that before the darkness started to take shape and a whole new world created out of shadows sheathed him.
But the happiness of the shadows didn't last long. A new and a new sound drowned out their world and all the animals and plants took to hiding back in his head. The shade lord felt the distressed creations stir inside his mind and woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He rubbed his lowest eyes and accepted the call
"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Oh sorry dear, i know it's terribly late but we got an unexpected call and need to leave. Since you've babysat Unn multiple times we assumed she would like to stay with you. Is it okay for you? Can we bring her to your place?" The shade lord thought for a moment and decided he could use the money. "Yea it's fine, she's always such a pleasure to babysit." The voice on the other side sounded relieved. "Thank you. You're a life saver. We will make sure you're compensated accordingly."
Feeling a bit more awake after the phone call he started to prepare for having baby Unn over. After a while her parents arrived and after some greetings he was home alone with the baby. He walked with her in his arms towards the living room and placed her gently inside the crib. She opened her eyes for a moment after losing the feeling of someone holding her, but then closed them again and fell back asleep.
The shade lord decided he couldn't sleep anymore and made some popcorn and decided to put on a movie. It didn't even take 20 minutes before he got called again.
"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Oh yes finally someone who answers. Sorry but you're our last hope. We were going somewhere tonight but our babysitter called off. Do you think you could babysit our lovely Radiance? She's very good behaved and won't cause you trouble." "yea, no problem. You'll just need to bring her to my place if it's no trouble"
Not even 5 minutes later the parents showed up and dropped of their larva. Shade lord looked at it a bit confused but didn't get the time to say anything because the parents left as soon as they handed her over. He closed his front door and gave the larva a good look. She was white and had a fluffy appearance. She had 5 pairs of legs and yellow-orange eyes. She started to writhe a little bit and shade lord made sure to hurry to the living room. He took a pillow and placed it on the couch and softly laid her on it. She seemed at ease and rested on the pillow all stretched out
Shade lord continued his movie, which was finally starting to get interesting, but as usual the commercial break hit. He was in the kitchen making more popcorn when he got another call.
"Hello, with shade lord. How can i help you?" "Hello, is this the babysitter?" "Yes, that's the one you're speaking with." "Great, a family member had an accident and i need to be there for them so do you think you could babysit for me?" "Yep, totally." "Thank you, can we bring him to you?" "Oh yea, no problem."
A few minutes later his doorbell rang and he hurried towards it. The father carried his toddler in what could only be described as wing-esque appendages. The shade lord extended his arms for the man to put his toddler in and felt a gentle brush of the leathery membrane. He shivered lightly before feeling a sudden warmth light up in his face, like someone has started a fire. When he looked back up the man was gone and he closed the door. The creature he was holding in his arms was unlike anything he had ever seen. 2 horns sprouted from its black head. The face was as bleak as white linen on a summer day. It seems she likes make-up because she had already 2 black lines running from her cheeks towards her eyes, eventually fading into the darkness of her head. She had the same membranes as her father and no limbs besides it.
He wasn’t even in the living room before he heard his front door being was under siege. He put the weird creature down and opened the front door. Immediately he was assaulted by Hollow, a very energetic child. He was wearing a green cloak today and it finally seemed he was starting to grow bigger than a hand. His horns has also branched into the inside. Immediately after Hollow jumped on his he could hear Pale complain about his unprofessional work attitude. Although he was bigger than most it seems he wouldn’t grow much anymore. His tiny stature didn’t discourage him from being bossy. Finally White entered. By far the biggest of the bunch, she was also the most introverted. Her roots slid elegantly over towards him and even managed to stop Pale from talking for a moment.
He took them inside the living room only to find that somehow the larva and the winged creature had somehow gotten into a fight and now both were in hiding in opposite sides of the room. Normally he wouldn’t make such a big deal out of this if somehow his couch wasn’t full of tiny needles and a chair was on fire. He rushed to the tap to fill a bowl of water to extinguish the little fire. With the attention being diverted Hollow managed to slip from the watch of Pale and could now be found in the corner Radiance was hiding. The larva figured out quickly he liked to play games and had soon enough set up a plan to make him betray Pale.
In the meantime White had climbed the couch and started pulling out the needles while Shade lord had figured out what the membrane between the appendages from the weird creature were for. Namely, for flight. And now she was attacking his horns and he couldn’t reach her. As if her flying was not good enough alone, whenever he raised his arms she would back off and launch a little fireball  All this commotion woke up baby Unn who slowly started to slither away from her crib to find food.
The shade lord finally had enough of the little fire hazard and rushed towards the pantry to get a kettle. Once he had found it he peeked around the corner only to find that fire hazard eating his popcorn! All caution was thrown aside and he grabbed her by the guts and put her inside the kettle. She tried to heat it but he added some water to it. While it evaporated quickly it was apparently enough to bring over the message. Now he could focus his attention back on the larva again, only she could’ve produced those needles, which White was making great progress with removing them as a quick glance told him.
Now back to Pale and Radiance who were apparently having a fight (Darkness, that larva really has a talent to provoke others). They were arguing near the coffee table, because apparently they wanted a fight so bad they just ran to each other and met in the middle. Hollow was climbing one of the legs of the table, but wasn’t noticed by the shade lord because he was too occupied with the other 2. He tried to separate the arguing pair but they were at each other’s throats. They even had summoned a needle and a tiny dagger to fight each other. The shade lord obviously didn’t count on this tiny factor and had soon enough one in each hand. He screamed, trying not to curse, barely not failing miserably, and Pale managed to escape. In any other situation this wouldn’t pose a problem, but Hollow, after eating some popcorn, found himself at the right edge of the coffee table and pulled out his tiny wooden sword he got from Pale. The larva, Darkness curse her, used this to her advantage and made the sign to Hollow to betray Pale. The act of betraying Pale involved jumping off of the coffee table and hitting Pale as hard on the head as possible. Naturally, all of this went according to plan and even brought some extra spectacle. After Hollow had hit Pale on the head he wasn’t prepared for the recoil of the wood and ended up hitting himself in the face.
All of this lead to 3 crying children (1 of them from laughing, the others from pain) and 1 very angry young adult. He put the larva on the couch and took care of the others while White held a close eye on the damned 10 legged thing. After Pale and Hollow weren’t crying anymore he took the little fire hazard out of the kettle and continued his movie, which was getting to an end.
After the film ended a documentary started and had all the kids hooked. He went to check on Unn only to find an empty crib. He could however see a slimy trail lead up his wall and onto the ceiling. It went through the door into the pantry where he kept his food and toys for the toddlers. He looked up on the ceiling only to find a sleepy Unn with a letter block in her mouth. Suddenly Unn started to make a very weird noise and fell from the ceiling onto his face. He swiped her off of his face onto his shoulder and then washed it.
He returned back to the tv to watch the documentary that was still playing and plopped down on the couch. Not long after he was asleep with White on his left shoulder, Unn on his right shoulder, the little fire hazard on the same arm and Pale curled up in his lap. Radiance and hollow were still awake but occupied with the documentary instead of causing trouble. After the documentary ended they crawled up against his sides and fell asleep.
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By @constantlost 
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By @bugbeee
Exhaustion seeped into Shadelord’s body, limbs weighed down by a heaviness they hadn’t experienced in a while. The smatter of godlings that lay around them on the couch, or on them in Radi’s case, was enough to convince them that they had died and that this was the Eternal Void that was created to punish them for cheating on that test in the 8th grade. In their defence, it had been on rock sedimentation.
Wyrm continued his grumbling from the corner of the couch, still infuriated by the attack on his person only moments before. Root, the aggressor, looked remarkably pleased with herself. Shade knew they should probably punish her further in some way but... well, to be perfectly honest, they simply were not paid enough to do so.
They really should have charged more. Fifteen dollars at least per tiny demon they had to look after rather than the whole bunch. Fifteen dollars was not enough to encourage discipline. It was enough for them to make sure none of the godlings killed the other. And they had thought they had come up with an ingenious plan to secure some peace and quiet.
After much wrangling, they had finally managed to set up two separate playpens, each far enough away that the godlings wouldn’t start screaming if one of them saw their rival. Wyrm and Root in one pen, Grimm, Radi and Unn in another. It was a gamble, but one that thankfully seemed to have paid off. Radi was still exhausted from the tussle she had just had with Wyrm, and Grimm seemed content to chew off the heads of the plastic Garbies they had found. Unn continued to watch, and occasionally helped Grimm execute a Garbie in a spectacular manner. It was both reassuring, and beyond disturbing. Root and Wyrm meanwhile were cheerfully ignoring each other as they both played with their own toys.
It should have been foolproof.
Unfortunately for Shade however, they were dealing with infants instead of fools.
For some damned reason, Root had decided that now was the perfect time to act up, instead of being the sweet little darling she had been so far. Her target, much to their dismay, had been Wyrm. In all fairness, the godling had probably deserved it in some way; most likely he had tried to worm too close in order to steal some of the grubpaste and mushroom sticks Shade had left out as a snack. Root had seen this theft as a cardinal sin, and had subsequently decided that Wyrm deserved nothing less than absolute annihilation.
The momentary doze Shade had managed to fall into was abruptly interrupted by loud shrieking and wailing, resulting in them vaulting over the couch to hurriedly find out which one of the godlings was being tortured.
The scene that greeted them was... well, it wasn’t any less ridiculous than some of the other stuff the little goblins had pulled before.
Using her flexible tendrils, Root had seen fit to wrap them around Wyrm, and aggressively dunk him into the bowl of grubpaste he had attempted to steal from. His shrieks and hisses had woken up Radi and drawn the attention of the other children, who were now cheering on Root’s attack on Wyrm’s person.
“Enough,” Shade declared, shooting a glare behind them, “Root, let him go.” Root looked up innocently.
No, she seemed to say with her eyes, justice must prevail.
“Justice won’t get me my fifteen dollars,” they hissed out in return, and they could have sworn that Root shrugged, turning away from them to dunk Wyrm into the bowl yet again.
“No!” they cried out, quickly whipping down to grab the poor child before he could be further humiliated. After finally being saved from his vicious tormentor, Wyrm decided it was time to go into hysterics, lashing out with a sharp tail to fully show his displeasure. Root simply watched impassively as the rest of the children cheered.
Shade wondered if fifteen dollars was even worth it at this point.
“Alright, alright, enough! Root, you go in time out. We do not waterboard our fellow godlings in grubpaste. Wyrm, calm down, it’s just grubpaste- Settle down!” they yelped out, flinching as something heavy settled onto their head. The soft fluff revealed that Radi had decided to fly out of her pen and taunt Wyrm in person. Shade wanted to sob with frustration.
The door cracked open, and Ghost peered in, head tilted curiously.
Need help? they signed, and Shade wanted to collapse in relief.
“Please,” they begged, and their sibling nodded grimly, even as amusement danced in their eyes. Shucking off their school backpack, they quickly headed over to the other pen and signed to them, bobbing their head up and down in a soothing motion. Grimm and Unn were entranced. Radi less so. She remained seated on their head, but at least seemed to have finally stopped provoking Wyrm.
“I’m just going to clean him up,” Shade explained uselessly, watching as Ghost simply nodded and waved them off. 
With a tired gait, Shade wandered into the kitchen and turned on the tap, listening as Wyrm’s panicked yelps grew louder at the realisation of what was going to happen next. Radi snickered softly, before leaping off and gliding back into the living room.
Bath time, according to the godlings, was a fate worse than death, and something to be avoided at all cost.
Unfortunately for both Wyrm and Shade, it was a necessary evil. Wyrm disagreed. Loudly. And with claws.
He howled furiously as Shade slowly lowered him into the warm water, softly scrubbing at the now-dried grubpaste sticking to his skin. Despite his attempts, Wyrm failed to prevent them from continuing his bath. He turned to pathetic pleading instead, making soft mewling sounds as though he was nothing more than a poor innocent child who had done nothing wrong, ever.
Shade, who remembered the little bastard knocking a glass ornament onto their head, was not convinced. Ultimately there was no escape, and Wyrm reluctantly gave in to the soft scrubbing, though he made sure his rumbling complaints were known.
“Yes, yes,” Shade said quietly, “I truly am the worst. Close your eyes so I can rinse you.”
Wyrm, in a dumb act of defiance, did not close his eyes. The hysterics started again, and Shade contemplated drowning themself in the half-filled sink. Fifteen dollars, they repeated. Fifteen dollars.
Grabbing a tea towel, they quickly dried the godling off, carefully teasing out water droplets from soft scales. He child gnawed on their fingers in revenge. “I’m done,” they announced, wandering back into the living room with a now clean, and furious, Wyrm.
Ghost looked up from their position on the floor, back leaning against the couch as they played with Grimm. Radi immediately perked up at the sound of Shade’s voice, and quickly flew over, making herself at home on top of their head. Unn seemed to have decided to undertake the momentous task of scaling up the back of the couch, leaving a thick trail of slime behind. Root, still stuck in her pen as punishment, let out a wail, demanding to be let out.
Shade was all out of energy to fight back or deal with a tantrum.
“Alright, alright, out you go,” they muttered, depositing Wyrm on the couch before reaching down to lift out the petulant child from her terrible prison. She clung to them desperately until they finally collapsed on the sofa. She quickly wriggled out of their hold and instead plonked down beside them. Wyrm had hissed at the sight of her, and slunk to the other side of the couch to sulk.
Grimm let out a raspy cackle at the sight, before diving down to nip at Ghost’s fingers.
Unn finally made her way to the top of the couch and waved her eyestalks victoriously. All Shade could do was give her a tired pat.
They sank into the couch, the exhaustion creeping back in. It should have been foolproof.
Fifteen dollars.
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By @arandoskeleartist​
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13uswntimagines · 3 years
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Family’s Hard (Kristie Mewis x Reader)
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Request: part 2 of the fic with Kristie that you post today! Maybe something with the r and Kristie both getting call for the national camp and we see a bit of what happen at camp with mal. pt 2. Maybe with both the reader and Kristine on the USENT roster and the fallout with Amal because of the reader being there. part 2 of the reader and mal meet up again joined by the team
Pt. One 
You had never been more unhappy while staring at a plate full of pancakes in your entire existence. You loved your typical practice meal (and your girlfriend of almost a year’s hand on your thigh while you ate it), but you weren’t enjoying the disapproving glare you were getting from across the table. She had been like this the moment you stepped off the plane, and you feared she wouldn’t stop until camp was over. 
It wasn’t like you decided to sit at this table to annoy Mal. Kristie wanted to sit with Sam, and you weren’t about to brave the dining room all by your little lonesome (plus you liked the team's Tower of Power and enjoyed watching the siblings banter).
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, pushing your chocolate chip pancakes around the plate, and keeping your eyes trained on your fork. 
“You ok?” Your girlfriend asked, her lips caressing your ear. You didn’t miss the way your older sister's nose scrunched at the looseness between you and the older midfielder. 
“Just tired. The flight from Houston was super long,” You mumbled, shrugging lightly. 
“You sure?” Kristie nudged your cheek with her nose and squeezed your thigh. You had been jittery since you left your shared apartment in Houston to head for camp and no amount of reassuring from your girlfriend seemed to be helping. 
“Psh. The flight home from France was exhausting, and then we had to get ready for good morning America. That was crazy, right Sammy?” Mal said with a wicked smile, completely cutting you off. Your mouth clicked shut and Kristie squeezed your thigh again (her jaw working overtime to prevent the scathing comment from leaving the tip of her tongue). 
Mal had been impossible since you stepped foot into the hotel the USWNT had commandeered for camp. She had swung between outright bitchy and underhanded reminders of Jill's preference of her over you all day and Kristie was getting sick of it. Your shoulders slouched a little more with every remark, every jab clouding over a little bit more of your sunshine. 
“That was pretty crazy,” Sam nodded, watching you and her sister carefully. She was trying to run as much interference as she could, but it seemed your sister wanted to make you as uncomfortable as possible. Almost like she was trying to drive you off the team. 
“Definitely not as crazy as that party right after we won. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much champagne in my entire life. Not even after we beat Texas,” Mal added, and you shivered at the memory, wilting under her glare. 
It was your freshman year (and coincidentally Mal’s senior year), and the first time the two of you had ever really played against each other. UCLA decimated your team and took over a frat house to celebrate. From what you heard, it was one of the biggest parties Texas A&M had ever seen. 
Kristie sighed, wrapping the arm that was on your leg around your back, rubbing soothing circles. You leaned into the touch, still playing with the food on your plate, trying to hold your tongue and not rise to Mal’s prodding. 
“From what I hear there was a lot of alcohol after Houston won the challenge cup,” Sam nodded, sharing a look with her sister and side-eyeing her friend. 
“That was just beer, Sammy. It wasn’t as classy because no one cares about an arbitrary chaos cup win, especially after we won the World Cup. It’s all about scale,” Mal continued, completely ignoring the glare Kristie had pointed at her, enjoying the way you were squirming in your chair. 
You shoved your plate away, giving up on eating. You didn’t want to be here. 
“I'm sure. I’m gonna go. The uniform staff wanted to see me anyway,” You mumbled, just loud enough for Kristie to hear you (or so you thought). 
Mal’s vicious smile grew. She just couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to you. You were always chasing after her, and this time she had done what you couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet. 
“I’d tell you to switch names, but all I can suggest is to pick a number you can actually live up to,” She sneered. 
Your entire being froze and you blinked owlishly at your older sister (taking comfort in how Kristie's arm tightened around you). 13 had been your number since high school, but you knew that Alex was a vet and you weren’t stupid (or disrespectful) enough to even dream of trying to take it. You knew you would never be even close to the level of Alex Morgan. 
You had accepted that and Instead chosen a different number, one you were proud to wear. You had no control over the last name on your jersey (until Kristie and you decided you wanted to get married, if you wanted to get married, and that was still pretty far off). 
“Come on. They wanted to do a quick check-in with me too,” Kristie said, standing and dragging you with her out of the room, her eyes sending daggers towards your sister. She was done watching you collapse back into yourself. 
****
Sam stared at Mal’s Cheshire Cat grin, her mouth agape. She didn’t understand why your older sister was being like this, or how she could continue eating as though she didn’t just rip you apart. (And at this rate someone had to stop her before Kristie killed her). 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam said, leaning forward and resting both elbows on the table. 
Mal shrugged, taking another sip of her orange juice. “What? I’m just being realistic,”
If you didn’t want to hear stories about their triumph at the World Cup, or how awesome the party was afterward, you could just find yourself a new seat (and take your girlfriend with you- you always did have to outdo her). 
“You were a little harsh babe,” Rose said softly, patting the forward's hand. 
Sam scoffed loudly, shaking her head. “She practically crumbled under that last comment,”
It was painful to watch your shy bean self withdraw back into the shell her sister worked so hard to crack. Even if you had Kristie here to support you, she wasn’t sure how long you would last without bursting into tears or getting into a screaming match with your sister. You were under enough pressure as it was. 
“She’s just overly sensitive. If she wants to play in the big leagues she’s going to have to learn to stand up for herself,” Mal rolled her eyes. 
It was a going joke in your family that Mal got the brains and beauty, while you just got the leftover emotions. Ever since you were kids, she had been the extroverted one saving you from bullies and being the “good example” that her parents wanted her to be. But this was her thing, and she didn’t want you horning in on it. (It was also a slight protective instinct too. She would rather be the one giving you shit than the media. They were ruthless and you would probably never forgive her. The road to hell was paved with good intentions after all.)
Sam sighed, taking in how Mal’s eyes tighten just a touch beneath her nonchalance. As much as she wanted to pretend she didn’t care about you, it was obvious that she did. The questions now were if she was willing to have a change of attitude and if she would even be able to repair the damage she had already done. 
“Just be careful with how far you push her, alright?” Sam said thoughtfully. 
Mal rolled her eyes again, any care she may have felt disappearing. “I know what I’m doing Sam,” 
“I really hope you do, because I remember what it was like to always be trying to live up to your older sister and how difficult that was. And Kristie knew when to cut me some slack,” Sam said, raising her eyebrow at the younger woman. 
She really hoped she could get through to her before Mal lost you, and Kristie kicked her head off. 
*****
You sighed into Kristie's lips, enjoying the way her hips pinned you to the wall and her tongue explored your mouth. You weren’t one for public displays of affection, but she had dragged you into an abandoned corner of the hotel after your sister's clear display of disdain. 
You guessed an upside to being at camp with Mal was your girlfriend's desire to cheer you up. You always responded better to physical contact (which was why Kristie used it to help you calm down all the time). 
You hummed as the hands under your shirt made their way up to cup your cheeks, her fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. She let the kiss continue for another minute, before pulling back, so her lips were just barely ghosting over your own and your foreheads were touching. 
You futilely tried to push off the wall and chase her lips, only for her to chuckle and pull back so you couldn’t reach, keeping you pinned with her hips. 
“Ah, no more kisses until you say it,” She mumbled, her breath fanning across your lips. 
You whined. You loved how supportive Kristie was, but you didn’t want to do this right now. You didn’t want to go through your normal reaffirmation routine. Not after the shots, Mal had taken at you. 
“But-“
Kristie chucked at the keening whine again, shaking her head (both at how adorable your pout was and because she was standing her ground). She learned a long time ago that the best way to stop your mental spiraling was for you to say how worth it you were. “No buts. To get what you want you gotta say it,” 
You huffed, I ally opening your eyes to look into Kristie’s determined blue. She raised her eyebrow at you. 
“I’m an amazing person, no matter what anyone says,” You mumbled, looking away from your girlfriend. She hummed, using her thumb to tilt your chin back up. 
“And?” She asked, a smile playing on her lips. Your pout deepened. You were set to start and Mal had made you feel bad about it. Now Kristie was trying to get you to admit that you deserved the opportunity. 
The two of you stared at each other for a long minute, and you debated in trying to get back to the kissing again, to not say the last part of your mantra. Kristie's thumb ran soothingly over your cheek as if she was reading your mind. “Come on babe,” she said softly. 
You bit your lip, finally giving in. “I shouldn’t feel guilty about opportunities I receive,”
“Good,” Kristie smiled, leaning back in to connect your lips. You smiled back into the kiss. Maybe things weren’t so bad if you got this treatment after your sister was mean to you, even if Kristie was trying to get you to finally confront her about her behavior. “And for the record, you can always say you’ll have a cooler last name later,” 
*****
This was getting out of hand. Very out of hand. You hit the ground again, your face scraping against the turf after another bad tackle. You groaned, pushing yourself up off the turf and brushing yourself off, ignoring the hand of the defender in front of you in favor of taking the hand your girlfriend offered. 
Kristie glared at the blond defender, very pissed off that she was pushing you so hard. “Fucking watch it Sonnett, another tackle like that and I’ll beat your ass myself,” Your girlfriend growled, brushing a stray piece of turf off your back. 
Emily shrugged, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. “Just trying to test the Rookie. Need to make sure she can handle a little pressure,” 
She liked you, but with the pressure, Mal was putting n you, she thought that they were all going to go hard. To show you exactly how difficult this game could be and how much you needed to work to be on their level. 
“I think Mal is doing enough of that on her own,” Kristie raised her eyebrow at the woman, still rubbing the turf off your back and cringing at the new burn. If this hadn’t been a teammate’s doing, she probably would have killed them by now. Ripped them limb from limb for touching you, but you didn’t need that. You needed her support and not her overprotectiveness. 
“She actually needs to be able to play against Canada,” Sam said, patting her back. Emily shook her head. Mal was right. She would rather be the one to go hard on you and prepare you than some random defender who didn’t care at all. 
As far as she was concerned, Mal’s plan was still in effect and you were going to have to pull some trick to get past her again. 
****
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Kristie threaded a ball through the gap between Becky and Julie, straight to you. You turned, taking advantage of the gap in the backline, dribbling across to try and get a clear shot. 
You didn’t see that gap collapsing. You didn’t see Emily and Midge racing towards you until it was too late. There was a loud crunch as you were caught between the two defenders, and tumbled to the ground. 
The reaction from the rest of the team was instant. Kristie raced over, followed closely by Sam. Both women kneeling down next to you, trying to get you to roll over. It seemed that another blue blur was already laying into the two defenders. 
“Lay the fuck off my sister,” Mal yelled, shoving Sonnett back from where her shifting form was standing over you. 
Emily held her hands up in defense, stumbling away from you. “I’m just trying to keep the intensity up, exactly like you are,” 
Mal growled audibly, stepping up to the taller defender and wrapping her fist into her shirt. “It’s different. She’s my sister and I’m the only one who gets to fuck with her. Got it,” she said her voice deadly calm. 
Emily nodded rapidly, her eyes wide as Mal straightened her shirt, patting her shoulder. Emily backed away slowly, her hands still extended, terrified that Mal (and your girlfriend) would decide to actually kill her. 
Mal nodded once the offending defenders were far enough away from you, before turning in your direction. 
You were finally on your feet, shifting awkwardly and rubbing the back of your neck. 
“Thanks,” You mumbled as she approached. 
She smiled, pulling you into a very strange hug.“You got it, kid. I love you, even if you’re not as good as me yet,”
She let you go and winked. You smiled and trotted off back to your position, warmth filling you. Sure you weren’t on the best terms, but you were sisters and the act was like a white flag. A truce. 
Kristie caught Mal’s arms as she passed. “Learn to lay off a little bit. I don’t want to have to hurt you,”
Mal nodded. You were family mad the only one who got to mess with you was her. She would kill anyone else who tried and she was glad you had gained two protectors. 
434 notes · View notes
hotdamnhunnam · 3 years
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Chick Flick Before Dick
A/N: Sooo I know I’ve written tons of fics featuring reader worshiping Jax’s dick – and I do plan to continue – but we also know he’s all about the service 😜 Based on the below requests, here’s a fic about the wicked magic Mr. Teller can work over you, with those talented fingers and tongue of his...
Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, teasing, edging (fingering + oral, fem receiving), semi-public setting (movie theater but no one else is there) Requests: 3 separate anon requests – 1 | 2 | 3
Word Count: ~2.9k
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“You say that shit to me one more time, bitch—I swear you’ll regret it the rest of your life.”
Oh, you don’t doubt it... Jax Teller has become more possessive than ever, since he claimed you as his wife. But today you have taken a stand, sticking to what you’ve planned; you’re not about to let him use some idle threat to get you out of it.
It never fails to make you smile, how your husband whines and grumbles like a child, when you turn down his cock to hang out with your friends every once in a while. 
Jax respects you too much to seriously hold it against you, and yet it’s no secret just how much he hates it when you ditch his dick to spend time with your girl crew. Leaving him high and dry, so horny he could die... alone with thoughts of all the dirty shit the two of you both love to do...
You tease your man about it for a minute, just for kicks. “Say what—‘chicks before dicks’...?”
He cringes and sticks out his tongue, as if hearing that phrase makes him physically sick. “Yeah, I mean, it’s just wrong. It’s insulting. Disgusting. The reigning queen of Charming shouldn’t say that to her king.”
“The queen says whatever she wants.”
“She better remember the king owns her cunt.”
“Well, now that’s what the king likes to think...” you taunt, though it’s a struggle to stay strong when his tone gets all dark and dominant.
Your husband knows just what you want. “Bitch, I know what you’re doing. You’re pissing me off on purpose ‘cause you’re desperate for some kind of punishment.”
You pretend to be appalled, although you really are aching for him to slam you up against the goddamn wall. “Behave, my king! Your lady would never do such a thing...”
“Cut the shit and run off to your ladies-in-waiting,” Jax says as he opens the car door for you to get in. Chivalry isn’t dead, though he’s less of a gentleman when you’re in bed. “Tomorrow you’ll spend the whole day as my personal plaything.”
Well, okay—fuck if that didn’t get you soaking wet. And yet tomorrow is a special day; your man has never missed special occasions ever since you started dating. “But did you forget—”
“That it’s our anniversary tomorrow? God, no,” he insists with a kiss on your forehead, amused that you thought he forgot. “Of course I didn’t, darlin’... but I said what I said. About you being my little plaything. Anniversary or not, won’t change a thing.”
***************
It’s eleven-thirty on the morning of your anniversary... and your husband hasn’t even fucked you once yet. After finishing your second cup of coffee you’re still thirsty. Jax had cooked you a whole feast of chocolate chip pancakes and maple-glazed bacon and your favorite style of eggs, but until you have sex, you won’t feel fully fed.
“But I thought we were spending the whole day in bed...” you protest, as he drags your ass out of the house after breakfast.
“Now where’s the fun in that?” he huffs, promptly plopping you onto the back of his Harley and then speeding off. “Just ‘cause you’re spending the day as my slut, doesn’t mean we’ll be cooped up all day. Plenty of other places to play.”
Oh, boy. Just what he means to say... you’re not sure. Jax has fucked you in public before, but you don’t want the whole town of Charming to see him use you as his personal toy. His filthy little whore. What does he have in store...?
You don’t bother to ask where you’re going; you know him well, know he won’t tell. He loves feeling you squirm against him from behind as you agonize over not knowing. It’s literal hell.
And then, suddenly yet smoothly... his bike redirects and pulls up at the last place you’d ever expect: the movies.
What the hell? This early in the day? You can’t even remember when you and Jax last saw a movie together, out in theaters, and most certainly never a matinée. What kind of game is he trying to play...?
Scratch that—you definitely do remember the last time Jax Teller took you to the movies, at this same exact theater. Years ago on the day you first met. Day you’ll never forget. The first day of your last year in high school... that fall when you’d just moved to Charming, the new girl on campus that morning, fumbling through the halls like a fool... then you laid eyes on this guy who captured your heart without warning and had you drowning in a puddle of drool.
Needless to say, you played hooky on your very first day at Redwood Hills High. ‘Cause when Jax Fucking Teller offered you a ride on his bike... that was not something you were about to deny. Powerless to resist cutting class when he already owned your ass in every way. You were psyched. So damn psyched you could die.
And you did in fact die on that fine afternoon, when Jax took your ass out to the movies and spent the whole time ruining your pussy with his fingers and tongue and that huge monster cock till you came like a fucking monsoon.
Now here you are again. So much has changed since then, when your lifetime beside Jax began. Yet so much is the same. High school sweethearts, in love from the start... it’s been almost a decade and nothing can tear your apart. To this day you are still that same girl who repeatedly moaned out his name, in a movie theater with no fucking shame, as you came, came and came...
Your man can see the memories replaying in your head, as he removes your helmet. The sweetest little smirk lights up his gorgeous face. “Remember this place?”
You smile and nod, swooning just from the thought. “Yeah, it’s crazy that we’ve never been back here since our first date...”
“I figured it’d be cute to recreate.”
Ugh, this man is so perfect it’s rude. You playfully scrunch up your nose as the two of you hop off his ride, holding hands like teenagers as you head inside. “Since when do you do cute?”
“Since I met you, babe,” he coos, as you practically trip over your shoes, stumbling through the doorway. “What can I say, you put me in the mood...”
Jax knows already what he plans to see: some dumb romantic comedy. One that’s been out in theaters for months, so the space will be empty just like he wants. Picks up your tickets and  passes right by the popcorn since you both have had plenty of food. And since he’s bound to spend the whole film facedown in your cunt. His face is gonna be fucking glued.
Well, except for when he shifts position every so often to pound you with his massive dick. You already can’t wait for it. Hope he gets to it good and quick; you’re fucking desperate...
You have no clue, just yet, how much your man is gonna make you beg for it.
***************
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“How many minutes of the movie do you think we managed to see on our first date?” Jax asks, as he sits his fine ass in the row farthest back. Looking like a damn snack. He’s all yours to attack, just as you are to him, and you can’t fucking wait. The lights dim, as the last of the trailers just played.
You’re the only two souls in this place, thankfully.
Scooting in beside him and all ready for him to devour your pussy, you think back to that day so long ago. “I don’t know... three?”
“Yeah, sounds right to me.”
“Let’s go for zero now, shall we...?”
“Nah, babe—that’s too easy,” he teases, resisting your hand as you reach toward the bulge in his pants to squeeze it. “We should give ourselves some kind of challenge, don’t you think? We were just kids back then. Now we’re the queen and king.”
“What’re you saying?” you mutter as you try and fail to grab hold of his dick. “Jax, please...”
“Think we should double it, at least. Let’s make it six.”
“You fucking serious?” you whimper like a spoiled little bitch. “You’re gonna make me sit through six whole minutes of this shit? You know I hate these sappy crappy chick flicks...”
“Shut up and watch,” he commands, slipping into his natural-born role of pure dominance. “Get your greedy whore hands off my crotch. I’ll tell you when you get to touch.”
Well, fuck. You know you shouldn’t push your luck, although you’re absolutely aching for his cock. You’ve never wanted anything so much.
Squirming in your seat, burning with need, you’re about to explode from the heat. You can’t be asked to keep your damn eyes on the screen, when Jax looks hotter right now than you’ve ever seen. Good enough to eat. Gawking at his chiseled profile limned by the light that projects, you just marvel at how he’s so totally perfect...
“You watching the movie, or me?”
As if he has to ask. You can’t wait till six minutes have passed. “What the fuck do you think? Don’t you wanna use me as your plaything...?”
“Sit back and obey your king.”
“Why are you being so mean...”
It’s no secret that Jax loves to torture his queen. But your juices are leaking all over the cheap fabric seat, and the mess that you’re making is fucking obscene.
That’s why you need his face to be down there to lick it all clean.
“Payback, bitch,” he replies with a devilish wink. The wink that always makes your pussy throb and twitch. It’s a whole fucking kink. “You know how it is...”
And with the words that Jax says next, denying you the privilege of having him between your legs—you understand exactly why he’s doing this. Dishing out punishment and getting off on it, because he knows that you deserve this shit. So savage and sadistic. After the way you spent yesterday pushing his buttons for kicks... now the king is the one playing tricks.
“Chick flick before dick.”
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***************
“Jax, I think it’s been six—”
“I’m the one keeping count, bitch. Two more minutes.”
Fuck. Every minute feels infinite. With no luck, you struggle to think about anything other than Jax Teller’s cock. How he’s probably already hard as a rock, how your pussy is bursting and needs him to get all up in it...
Now you’re pretty sure it’s been another two minutes. Moaning like a slut, you know that you should keep your mouth shut, but it’s so hard to resist. Why can’t he just get down to business? You’ve already gone ahead and taken off your panties underneath your dress, to give your husband easy access. 
Forcing yourself to take your gaze off Jax, you lean your head back, close your eyes, and try to just ignore the flood between your thighs. His brutal punishment is pushing you right past your limits. Now it’s definitely been more than two minutes...
Oh shit—just then, you feel his touch upon your clit. Right here in this empty theater. You honestly couldn’t be wetter. “F-fuck, Teller… I need your dick…” “Know you do, bitch,” he snickers and wickedly curls up his fingers. “You just gotta wait till the end of the chick flick.”
Till the end of the—what?!? You groan out, needy and loud, unable to keep your mouth shut. “What the fuck...!”
Now he’s shifted position to kneel before you on the floor. The dim light in the room reflects off of the black of his kutte, as he seals your fate as his dirty little slut. Still the one in control, even down in his kneeling position, sending you reeling even deeper in submission as he uses his skillful fingers to service your soaking wet hole. “Thought you heard me before. You naughty fucking whore.”
Holy mother of shit. You’re already about to explode and can barely fight it. “Yeah, I did—”
“Then repeat it.”
You’ve never been so fucking heated, so wrecked in the head, as you echo the words he’d so cruelly said. “Chick flick before dick.”
“That’s a good girl,” Jax purrs as he slides his two fingers straight into you. Long and thick, stirring you up as they twirl, so damn sinful and slick. Growling in satisfaction, watching your reactions, enjoying the view, the sensation of you being so wet and tight. “You know what that means, right? Of course you do.”
God, this man is too good and too bad to be true... “B-but I didn’t think—”
“Bitch, I swear by the end of this flick you won’t be thinking anything,” Jax interrupts viciously, as two fingers become three. “Now sit back and be good. Let me use you like I said I would. As my filthy fucking plaything.”
Thirty seconds letter you are quaking. Heart aching. Feels like every fiber of your being is fucking breaking.
Although you know you shouldn’t dare cum without his permission... it’s harder and harder as Jax drives his digits in farther and farther, his every move sparking your fucking ignition. The tight coil of arousal inside you is past your control, as he ruthlessly ruins your hole, filling you to the core of your soul. 
And before you know what’s even happened, your body explodes with an orgasm more intense than anything you have ever imagined. Beyond your wildest dreams. The whole town of Charming can no doubt hear your screams, as you frantically shout out the name of your king, in this fucking theater, cunt spastically squirting all over the letters engraved in his thick metal rings.
“Such a sweet fucking cunt,” he grunts, watching your face with a devilish chuckle, as he slurps the taste of you off of his knuckles. “But you’re so disobedient. Cumming before I allowed it? Mmm, almost as if you want more fucking punishment... can’t live without it...”
Your whole body shivers and convulses, as your pussy quivers and pulses. “J-Jax...”
As you clumsily try to pull him toward you for a kiss, he pins down both your wrists. Has no patience for any of this. Jax’s dominance hits like a fucking attack. “Slut, I told you to shut up and sit... the fuck... back.”
The first time you came, only his hands were to blame; your sex god of a husband had not even started to use his mouth yet.
Now he starts. And the second his tongue hits your sensitive pussy, so swollen and juicy, unspeakably wet... you already feel ripped apart. Ripped to shreds. Already dead.
He’s licking at your slit, while sucking on your clit, and you’re losing your absolute shit.
You’re pretty sure you just came three times in less than a minute, but it’s not as if you’re in a state to keep track. You can’t bear to look down at him doing his thing, golden hair gleaming in the faint light as he feasts on your cunt like a king. You’ve always been his personal plaything. He has every right to eat you like a snack.
Yet he’s pushing you past every possible limit of orgasms and that’s a fact.
You just moan and gasp, losing what little grasp you have on sanity, slipping away from reality, throwing your head further back. “Jax—fuck, Jaxxx...!”
After his next round of wrecking, he finally pauses for just a few seconds. You need him to cut this shit out but can’t say it aloud; you don’t have any breath left for begging.
His flawless face is glistening in your juices, snickering as he gets off on putting you through this. Whenever the king and queen go to battle in the bedroom or any damn context involving sex... queen always loses.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for what Jax says next.
“You good?”
What the—did he just—
But before you can even attempt to protest, the bastard goes back at it like no man on earth ever should. ‘Cause of course he would. He fucking would.
The audacity?!?! You have officially lost any hope of regaining your sanity. Ever. 
FUCK Jax Fucking Teller. You should’ve known that you were doomed from the day you two first got together, right in this theater...
But then again, you fucking did. Of course you fucking knew it. Knew all along that this would happen. And that is exactly what you had imagined, what you had signed up for: to serve him forever, to let him destroy you whenever, wherever, use and abuse you as his own personal fucking whore.
Your soul doesn’t even belong to you anymore. Jax Fucking Teller just sucked it right out of you, several times over. He’s not even done yet. Won’t be till you’re dead. Your man is one goddamn savage motherfucker, but that is what makes him the most perfect lover.
Although you’re not sure if you’ll ever recover... you do know one thing for sure: by the end of this movie—even if your poor pussy physically can’t take an orgasm more, really, truly—you’re taking his dick. Dick is the only cure. You fucking live and die for Jax Teller’s dick. Fucking need it more than you can even afford.
And that is why from this day forward, you both know that no chicks—and sure as hell no goddamn chick flicks—will ever come before.
***************
Hope you enjoyed this, and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️
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babymetaldoll · 3 years
Text
Quarantine with Matthew Gray Gubler (MGG / Reader)
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(Not my gif, thank you to whoever made it! )
Requested: Yes :)
Vivir en cuarentena con Matthew, y él hace en vivos por Instagram con y/n respondiendo preguntas de fans
Category: Fluff
Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler / Reader
Summary: Matthew loves making people happy, and in quarantine, he finds the best way to keep in touch with his fans and do what he loves the most: spend time with (Y/N) 💜
Warnings: Nope
Word count: 2,2K
Masterlist
A/N: I am so sorry this request took me forever!!  Hello guys!!  thank you for all your comments, and love 💖 You are awesome!! hope you have a great week!!
.
Living in quarantine isn't as bad as many people think. It all depends on who you are spending your time locked in with. (Y/N) knew it pretty well, 'cos she had been locked with her husband, Matthew Gray Gubler, in their shared house for the last month.
And even when most people were sick and tired of being home, (Y/N)and Matthew managed to keep themselves busy and mentally sane. In fact, you could feel more stressed considering there was a pandemic and no one could see their loved ones and friends. But being with Matthew made it all so much bearable.
Considering Gubler's job kept him busy most of the time during a normal year and that he didn't have many chances to be home the way he was now, he enjoyed it.
Sleeping in was heaven. And the fact he could stay in, wearing pajama and kimonos, just enjoying his wife's company, was what he needed.
He didn't realize he needed to take a break after years of hard work until he was forced to do it. And god, it felt good.
(Y/N) would keep herself busy writing and reading while Matthew painted and draw by her side.
Their daily activities included: trying new recipes at least three times each week. Gubler would always come with some random exotic dish he always wanted to recreate. And six of eight times, he nailed it.
They would also spend a day in their pajamas doing nothing. Usually, it was Sundays. That was their official cuddles day. Just movies, ice cream, and cuddles.
Matthew also started teaching (Y/N) some magic tricks. She had insisted a few times, but he was very reluctant to do it at first.
- "A magician never shares his tricks, Bunny"- he argued for days.
- "Ok, but what if I am a magician too? Then it would be ok?"
(Y/N) was sitting on his lap, playing with some curls of his hair between her fingers. They were in their backyard, having a picnic. They had set a blanket and had some cookies (Y/N) had baked, along with two tall ice coffee Matthew had prepared, with an obscene amount of whipped cream.
- "And how are you planning to be a magician if you don't know any trick?"- he questioned, raising an eyebrow.
- "Just because you haven't taught me any trick doesn't mean I don't know any!"- she answered, pretending to be insulted.
- "My wife can do magic, and she never told me?"
- "There are a lot of things about your wife you still don't know"- (Y/N) teased and smiled at him.
- "Bunny, we are locked in this house until further notice. I think I have enough time to find out all those things I haven't seen in the last years."
(Y/N) had finally convinced him when she showed him a simple card trick her father had taught her when she was a kid. Gubler got so excited he even presided a ceremony to name her an official magician and invited their friends to be part of it via zoom. Everybody enjoyed their magic tricks and shared a good hour of fun and laughter with them, just like they would do live.
It felt good to be with their loved ones, even if it was just online.
That gave Matthew an idea.
- "Hey, Bunny!"- he walked into the kitchen holding his phone, scrolling down his Instagram feed.
- "What is it, honey?"- (Y/N) asked him as she kept chopping vegetables for dinner.
- "I was thinking maybe I should start doing Instagram live streamings with the fans. Maybe do some magic tricks, tell jokes. I don't know."- (Y/N) raised his eyes from the food and smiled.
- "Sounds awesome! when do you wanna start?"
- "Now?"- he answered a little hesitant
- "And what do you have in mind?"
- "Maybe answering questions and asking them if hanging out via Instagram is something they'd like to do."
(Y/N) chuckled and walked to her husband, pinching his cheeks, making him giggle.
- "You are so adorable, Gub. Like anyone wouldn't love to hang out with you."- he blushed and shook his head.
- "Ok, I'm gonna do it here anyway."
- "While I'm cooking?"- (Y/N) looked confused
- "Yes, I want you near so you can stop me when I start rambling"- (Y/N) laughed and kissed her husband's lips sweetly.
- "I can't stop your rambling, Gubler. But I can mute the video"- she teased, and he pecked her lips, chuckling.
- "Just stop me when I start saying anything embarrassing."
- "Deal."
No one could say Matthew Gray Gubler didn't care about his fans. He was committed to being always nice to anyone who would ask for a picture or an autograph. Why? Because nothing made him happier than making people happy. And if his job gave people joy, he honestly felt his life had a purpose.
That's why he enjoyed his improvised IG stream so much. He just sat on a couch nearby the kitchen and started talking with fans, answering questions.
- "Where am I spending my quarantine? Here is my hunted treehouse. I don't think I had ever been home this much, and it's been awesome."- Gubler stood up and started walking around the room.
- "Who am I spending it with? my gorgeous wife, of course,"- he said and pointed the phone at (Y/N), who was still cooking dinner. She simply waved and smiled
- "She is making sure I eat proper food now... Bunny, people are asking what you are cooking."
- "Pad thai"- she answered with a huge grin- "Gubler's request for tonight's dinner."
- "Maybe we could make a cooking class one day,"- Matthew suggested, and the screen started filling with "YES!!" immediately- "I could teach people how to burn every pan in the house, and you can cook."
(Y/N) nodded, laughing.
- "You can teach everybody how to make the best hotcakes."- (Y/N) answered and walked away from the phone.
It wasn't that she didn't like being part of her husband's activities, but she figured she wasn't really that important. Fans were there to see him, not her.
But Matthew followed her.
- "Yeah! I'll make my famous chocolate chip hotcakes, and you will have to top them!"- (Y/N) laughed and looked at her husband, raising an eyebrow.
- "Battle of the hotcakes?"
- "Yes!"
- "Set a time and a place, and I'll be there"- (Y/N) put her hands in her waist and raised an eyebrow, looking as serious as she could fake it.
- "Tomorrow, noon, here in our kitchen, because we can't leave the house,"- Gubler answered and mimicked his wife's attitude, still streaming everything.
- "Bring it, Gub."
And just like that, another livestream was scheduled.
The next day, at noon, Matthew streamed the funniest hotcake competition there had ever been seen by humankind. At least that's what he described.
- "Let's say it's a tie"- Gubbler decided and finished the last piece of hotcake in his dish- "I'll leave a poll in my stories so you can decide what you wanna see in tomorrow's live."
- "Really?"- (Y/N) asked, surprised- "Which are the options?"
- "Magic tricks or... I don't know. I didn't think this through"- he answered, making his wife giggle.
- "Maybe you could make a Rumple reading"- and Gubler's eye brightened at the idea
- "With my Rumple costume?"
- "I don't see why not"- Gubler looked at the screen and grinned like a kid.
- "Ok, you'll decide, magic classes or Rumple reading."
It was a draw. That's why Gubler did a Rumple reading the next day and decided to prepare a magic class with his wife for later that week.
His followers were having a blast with each one of their streams. Matthew would always try to take a step back and let his wife shine in front of everybody. He thought she was so funny the world needed to see more of her.
And (Y/N) always tried to be the best sidekick for her husband. Helping him make his streamings as fun as possible.
For the Rumple reading, Matthew sat in an armchair by the fireplace, dressed like Rumple, and read the whole book, impersonating voices and everything. Then, (Y/N) read the questions from the fans, and Matthew answered everything.
Gubler dressed like a classic magician for their magic streaming, and his wife was his assistant, helping him with each trick.
And by the end of the week, the people picked Q&A streaming with the two of them. It was the Friday "Chilling with the Gubs special."
- "Your girl is about to steal the whole show"- Shemar called Matthew that week and made him laugh- "She's the best part of the whole stream."
- "Don't flirt with my wife!"- he answered and chuckled.
- "I'm just saying she has a lot of potentials. She should try to do some stand-up comedy."
Gubler loved that comment, though. He knew his wife was awesome, and he wanted the world to know. As simple as that.
- "Ok, Bunny, ready to answer some questions?"- Gubler set the phone in front of them as they sat in their backyard. One more time, they had set a blanket in their favorite spot. And they had cookies and coffee.
- "Hit it!"
It was fun to do those things together. (Y/N) had never been one to be in the spotlight, but she loved being with Matthew. And if he was happy, so was she.
And it took only a second to see how happy Matthew was. He beamed each time he looked at his wife by his side.
- "Ok, this is a good one. What did we have for breakfast today?"- (Y/N) read and chuckled.
- "Good question. Waffles. (Y/N) made waffles, and I ate five, with ice cream. I'm gonna get so fat in quarantine"- the actor answered and felt his wife's hand in his hair.
- "What's your next project"- (Y/N) read- "Oh! that's a good one!"
- "But I won't say anything about it,"- Gubler answered and chuckled- "You'll have to stay tuned."
- "But I can assure you, it's amazing,"- (Y/N) added smiling- "How did you two meet"- the couple looked at each other and giggled.
- "At a party in my best friend's house"- she answered- "She was dating one of Matthew's friends, and they had a huge celebration when they moved in together."
- "And when I saw her, I knew I had to talk to her, but her friends didn't leave her alone."
- "Why didn't you just walked over and talked to me anyway?"- (Y/N) asked and crossed her arms on her chest
- "Because they were intimidating! and I am a shy guy!"- he explained- "I had to wait until you walked away to get yourself a drink to talk to you finally!"
- "You literally appeared by my side as soon as I walked away from them"- (Y/N) laughed, remembering the moment- "It was so funny!"
- "Hey! it might have been my only chance! I needed to take it!"- Matthew held her hand and played with her fingers, thinking he was glad non of that was in the camera angle.
- "And it worked"- (Y/N) answered and smiled at her husband, thinking as soon as that livestream was over, she was going to have a serious make out session with him
- "I'm glad it did. Quarantine would suck without you."
Gubler answered and smiled, thinking as soon as that stream was over, he was going to jump on her and kiss every inch of her body, just because she looked so beautiful that day.
- "Are you guys planning on having kids?"- (Y/N) read and turned all kinds of pink. There was a silence between the couple as they just looked at each other and shrugged.
- "We'd make cute babies"- Matthew answered- "And we could clearly keep them entertained."
(Y/N) laughed and shook her head.
- "We are not streaming that!!"
- "What?"
- "The baby-making part!"- she joked, and Gubler blushed, laughing and falling back on the blanket.
- "That idea never crossed my mind!"
- "I had to say it! Just in case"- (Y/N) argued and chuckled.
She had thought about having babies in the last few months. But getting pregnant during a pandemic didn't sound like a good idea.
Or was it?
- "Ok, everybody. We are signing out for today"- Gubler announced and waved at the camera- "Take care, stay in your house this weekend, and we'll come back maybe next week."
- "Maybe people can suggest what they'd like to see"- (Y/N) said and looked at Gubler, smiling back at her.
- "I'll leave the option in one of my stories so that you can leave your suggestions. See you!!"
The livestream was over. Gubler left his phone aside and looked at his wife. She was sipping her coffee and fidgeting with her fingers on the fabric of her jeans.
- "We would make cute babies, though,"- Matthew whispered and watched her beam at those words. That was all he needed to know.
- "You would spoil them so much"- (Y/N) replied, giggling.
- "Only because they will be just like you, and I love to spoil you so much"- he opened his arms, and (Y/N) leaned in, resting her body against his.
- "So... do you wanna have a baby Gub?"- she whispered against his chest- her voice was muffled, but he heard her clearly.
- "I think I do. You?"- Gubler answered, feeling his heart beating faster.
- "Me too."
(Y/N) muttered and giggled. Matthew looked at her and leaned in a little closer, kissing her lips sweetly.
It was a massive step for them, and they were very excited to do it.
- "Do you wanna start now?"- Matthew suggested, and (Y/N) blushed immediately- "I mean... I was going to suggest sex before, but now..."
- "The sooner, the better, Gubler,"- (Y/N) replied and bit her lips- "After all, we are gonna have to do a lot of practice before we succeed."
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strawberryjamsara · 3 years
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Idea for a yttd no death game au that I may or may not write
-Joe is dying and Sara is frantically pushing at the button trying to stop him from succumbing. Everything seems bleak. Then she wakes up with the reveal it was a dream. Gin is shaking her awake yelling that Kai made chocolate chip pancakes and to go downstairs.
-Keiji is also down there, looking like he just woke up. Sara makes a snide comment about his eyebags, and he retorts that she doesn’t have much room to talk after she just refused to go to bed last night. Kai just serves breakfast with several one liners and Gin makes a comment about how he’s glad Kai is around because Mr Policeman and Muscle Gorilla can’t cook. Keiji takes offense to this and offers to try and make a side dish and about ten seconds in cuts himself on the knife. He gets the shit roasted out of him. Qtaro comes down looking pretty good and proceeds to see all the food is gone and gets roasted. All is well and good but something is bothering Sara.
-She meets up on the school path with Joe, Ranmaru and Anzu and they all begin teasing Ranmaru and pointing out his crush on Sara. At one point Anzu and Joe walk ahead and Ranmaru asks Sara if he can talk to her in private some time soon. Sara agrees then goes up to Joe and Anzu to loudly tell them that Ranmaru is gonna confess. Ranmaru protests loudly.
-She has a good day at school. Professor Mishima has always been her favorite teacher. However he says the old assignment Sara was working on got lost so she’ll have to start again. Sara agrees and accepts his apology, as well as his offer for an extension, and begins trying to recreate her old painting but comes to the realization she doesn’t remember what her last painting was.
-To amend this, she tries calling up Nao after school, since she remembers doing a lot of the piece with her. But strangely, Nao doesn’t seem to remember either. Nao offers to come up with a new painting if Sara comes over though, and Sara agrees. But before that her meeting with Ranmaru.
-She meets Ranmaru behind the school where he asks if she had a weird dream last night. She’s surprised and is about to say yes, but a sinking feeling arrives in her stomach at the idea of acknowledging it. She tells him no. So he says okay and tells her she can leave.
-She comes to Nao’s house and finds the usual scene. Reko is keeping to herself, Alice is lounging around before loudly announcing her presence when she comes in, and Nao is excited to see her! When coming up with a theme they toss ideas back and forth before Sara just suggests… a button pressing. She doesn’t know why. She just wants to. Nao doesn’t see a problem. Sara goes to give Reko a wave out before she leaves but she seems to be in a crabby mood. Alice explains it’s because of Samurai Yaibas concert getting cancelled due to an unexpected meltdown whatever that means. Sara offers to go shopping downtown with them on the promised day to make up for it. They agree and Sara is on her way.
-Sara is trying to go to sleep at night but the lights down the hall are still on so she storms to Keiji’s room to tell him to go the fuck to sleep it’s 1 in the morning. Good night Keiji.
-The next day, her and Joe are being sent together to babysit Kanna and Hinako after school. During school, Anzu asks Sara about her confession from Ranmaru and Sara just informs her of the conversation from yesterday. Anzu gasps and makes cries of Ranmaru playing with Sara’s heart, and Ranmaru tells her to calm down and more shenanigans ensue as they make a bigger and bigger scene.
-Joe is sent to pick up Hinako while Sara is out in charge of going to the Tsukimi’s and waiting on Kanna. Shin is pretty much already halfway out the door trying to get to work when she gets there, and she makes a few jokes at his expense but then feels a need to back off at how hard he recoils- usually he claps back twice as hard. Maybe she caught him on a bad day- and Joe comes in with Hinako who seems to have a new habit of writing everything that happens down. They watch She ra and play pretend well into the night and Shin comes back, thanks Sara and Joe profusely, and they even play a quick game of Mario Kart together, Sara taking note of how squeamish Shin is.
-Sara wakes up to see the lights are on again. She stomps to Keiji’s room again but this time she sees him hurriedly putting away a theory board when she comes in. She doesn’t know and she’s too tired to care. Goodnight Keiji.
-Ranmaru is absent from school the next day. Anzu and Joe are complaining loudly, but Sara for some reason feels a deep pit of dread in her stomach. She excuses herself trying to call him but gets no response. So she pulls Joe aside and tells him she had a dream he died and the last one on one conversation she had with Ranmaru was him asking her if she had a weird dream. Joe agrees that’s kinda weird and they decide to go around looking for answers.
-But first Reko Alice and Sara hangout! They go shopping downtown, and eventually stop at Mai’s bakery to sit down and eat. Throughout the trip Sara notices Reko being uncharacteristically mean to people they run into. Sara questions this before Alice replies that she’s always been like this and Sara must be remembering wrong. Sara can’t help but feel like she’s had this conversation before. On the bright side, Samurai Yaiba got rescheduled and Sara is invited. She gets 4 tickets, one for her, one for Anzu, one for Joe, and one for Ranmaru. She goes back home and tries to speculate on the personality shifts between Reko and Shin.
-It’s Sunday and time for Sara and Joe’s investigation! They meet up at her house, where they play with Gin and chat with Qtaro and Kai, then go off looking for leads, starting with Ranmaru’s apartment which is completely vacant. They track a few leads that go nowhere the final being that they know he would sometimes try to go and start shit with Kurumada so they go ask him and see him talking with Shin and Kanna, so they ask him and Shin for information. They don’t really have anything, and Shin actually says he’s looking for Hinako since she got a little far from him in a crowd. They agree and track her down writing notes again, and explain the situation, but Sara picks up one of the notes. “‘The case for Ranmaru Kageyama’? ‘A non-termination request’? What is thi-“ then she feels a shock at her back and falls over. “Sorry Sara senpai. I’m doing what I can.”
-Sara wakes up back in her room the next day. Was that a dream? She eats breakfast again tuning everything out, remembering how the scene went last week and then she remembers what bothered her so much about last weeks breakfast.
-Keiji didn’t bleed when he cut himself.
-Ranmaru is back in class the next day. Sara runs up to him trying to get answers out of him only to realize he hardly knows her and thinks she’s just a random classmate he’s never talked too. She yells to Joe and Anzu to snap him out of it but they seem to share a similar sentiment. She’s totally lost.
-She goes up to Mishima and asks what her previous art piece she was working on was. He says he doesn’t remember. That’s between her Nao and her own teacher not remembering. What is going on? How could they just forget? Did someone just erase it? Mishima asks if she’d like to see the nurse and she agrees.
-Until she sees the nurse. It’s her. She looks meek and quiet but the second Sara sees her her stomach drops to her shoes. She has to get out of there.
-She runs home- Keiji- Keiji had that theory board, he was saying something about her refusing to go to bed for some reason, and he went cooking to show her he didn’t bleed- he must know something-
-She finds the house empty. She calls for Kai and Gin and Qtaro and Keiji but nobody comes. The theory board- she runs to Keiji’s room and finds it- dolls- AIs- wait what? Everyone here was dolls and AIs? Was she…? She takes a pin from the board and pricks herself but she bleeds… so was everyone else… was this a box meant for her? Why?
-Then suddenly it slams into her brain like a freight train. She remembers what the previous version of the painting was.
-A sea of death. A pool of crimson with her standing above it, like she was somehow walking on top of it.
-“Ah… that’s another attempt miserably failed.”
-She turns around. She sees him. She doesn’t know him and yet she despises this person like mad. “Midori!”
-“You winning the game wasn’t supposed to be so much of a pain. Putting you in this glorified simulation for therapy is so much more trouble than it’s worth, but you were so hysterical otherwise we didn’t have a choice! And Hinako insisting we keep in people who keep cracking the code… we might have to do something about her too… but that’s nothing for you to worry about! Now go to sleep Ms Sara! When you wake up, everything will be fine again.”
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flightfoot · 3 years
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If anyone wants to read a fanfic focusing on Alya’s problems and feelings, centered around her as a person, I HIGHLY recommend “can you keep a secret?” by euphorickiri. 
It starts off looking like it’s mostly just gonna be interested in shipping Alyadrien (which it DOES do very effectively), with early chapters having a good portion of the plot be driven by Alya suspecting that Adrien’s Chat Noir and wanting to spend more time with him, find out more about him in order to become sure of it.
But even then, even as early as chapter 1, you get to see that there’s more going in with Alya than you’d normally see in such a fic. That she can’t get herself to post to the Ladyblog after the Lady Wifi business, that people at school are treating her differently after being akumatized, along with going over her current issues with her friends and family, things that are shown and develop more and more as the series goes on.
In chapter 1:
Nino was her closest friend besides Marinette. They bonded quickly over their mutual love for comic books and have only grown closer since then. Often when Alya felt like she couldn’t talk to Marinette, Nino was always there to lend an ear. This was happening a lot more recently than she wanted to admit. She didn’t know exactly what was going on, but Alya wasn’t stupid. Marinette was hiding something from her. Something big. She showed up to school half-asleep most of the time and when asked to hang out she came up with every excuse in the book to avoid going. There were even certain times she would just disappear without telling anyone. It seemed like it was taking a huge toll on her and Alya didn’t want to add to that burden. So she plastered a smile on her face for her best friend and supported her in any way she could. Still, she couldn’t help but be suspicious about what was going on.
She hated how much Lady Wifi took over her life. She pretended not to see the dirty looks people sent her, ignoring how hurt she felt. Nino was right. They weren’t themselves when they were akumatized. But that didn’t mean everyone sympathized with akuma victims. And she was no exception. Even Chloe was wary around her now. Chloe . The most fearsome person at school. So Alya preferred not to talk about it at all. It was just something else she had to deal with.
She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t . She could handle herself.
And with chapter two, it starts laying the foundation of her family situation.
“What do you guys want?” Alya asked tiredly.
“Breakfast,” Ella replied. “Can you make chocolate chip pancakes again?”
Alya ran a hand over her face and looked over at her alarm clock, relieved she had a decent amount of time to get herself and her sisters ready for school. Her parents worked during the day so it became Alya’s responsibility to look after the twins. Make sure they get to school, pick them up from school, feed them, dress them - everything. It could be draining, and as much as she loved her sisters, they were still kids who acted out and refused to cooperate at the worst times. But if she didn’t look after them, no one else would. Her parents, especially her mom, were too engrossed in their work. The one time Nora did come home to visit, Ella and Etta didn't know who she was. That’s how long she’s been gone.
So, this was Alya’s burden to carry. Alone.
“You guys have to eat something other than pancakes every morning,” Alya scolded, reaching for her phone. “I’ll make oatmeal with some fruit instead.”
As the story goes on, Alya’s family situation with her parents fighting and using her as a go-between while pretending everything’s alright, with herself being her younger sisters’ rock, becomes a bigger part of the story and necessary background to the emotional struggle Alya goes through, informing a lot of her character and why her thought process is the way it is.
The rest of the day consisted of Alya trying to get Marinette to speak with occasional assistance from Nino and Adrien. Nothing worked. The only person able to get a reaction out of her was Juleka. The other teen waved passing their table during lunchtime and Marinette waved back. And as worried as she was, Alya couldn’t help but be a little annoyed. There have been days where all Alya wanted to do was yell at anyone who dared to approach her. But she never took it out on Marinette or anyone else. But here they were, the situations revered, and Marinette wouldn’t even look at her . What made Juleka the exception?
No one wants you.
Alya pushed her tray of food away, her appetite gone.
She almost pulled her hair out when Miss Bustier told everyone to sit with their partners during their last class of the day and Marinette bolted out of her seat. Alya tried to hide her irritation when she saw Marinette and Juleka talking out of the corner of her eye as if everything was normal.
“Remember your projects are due tomorrow! I’m giving you the entire class period today to finish up,” Miss Bustier announced. “I’m very excited to see your presentations!”
Adrien slid into Marinette’s empty seat. “We need to find a couple more pictures for the poster but other than that we’re good.”
“I agree.” Alya glared when Marinette laughed at something Juleka said, not paying attention to his words. “We should do that.”
Oh? So quick to replace me? She tensed up as her own words mocked her.
Marinette rested her head on Juleka’s shoulder. Don’t worry, you’ll always be my number 1 partner. You’re irreplaceable.
Wrong. You’re disposable .
Alya’s feelings and emotions are validated by the narrative, even though she has the wrong idea about Marinette replacing her. 
Lady Wifi plays a big role in the story as well, since she’s not actually gone, and serves as a kind of embodiment of Alya’s negative emotions and worst impulses, as well as a looming threat. The tension between her and Alya helps accentuate the emotional heart of the story.
Alya also gets to disagree and talk things out with Ladybug and Master Fu, when she doesn’t agree on their handling of situations, though with them not being demonized in the process either. 
Just... if you want to read a fic focused around Alya’s problems and emotions, but that treats everyone else well too, that gives her a lot of agency and also a lot of support, I HIGHLY recommend this fic.
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