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#anyway i remember one detail was the daughter was only called 'the daughter' until she was brought back
pocketramblr · 8 months
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Thank you weird dream for the uh "scifi horror+hades persephone" story featuring:
Zeus and Demeter's daughter being on life support and one day Zeus gives up and has the doctor take her off, lying that Demeter has also given permission as well
Demeter being reasonably upset and slightly less reasonably forcing the doctor to go all Victor Frankenstein to bring her daughter back
The girl now in a state of half dead half alive that does not fully satisfy Demeter, but is close enough at least to prevent any further mass destruction
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hyunnieshannie · 4 months
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Suspended | KSM
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🖤: Seungmin x AFAB Reader 🖊️: 10k 🖼️: Check out the Mood Board! 🚨: Teacher AU, unprotected sex, use of sextoys, bdsm themes - rope play/impact play/blindfolds/handcuffs, choking, edging (so much edging i practically edged myself while writing the smut-K), cumming multiple times, pet names (angel/pup & sir), sexual harassment in the workplace, use of light system (reader uses: yellow), crying (from overwhelming amounts of pleasure *wink wonk*), corruption kink if you squint - methinks that's it, if we missed anything please let us know- If you think we proofread this, no we didn't - M ♡: I hope you all know this took us SEVEN MONTHS to write- WHY did it take us Seven months? WHO KNOWS?? But it did. LIKE LOOK AT THIS SCREENSHOT THAT WAS WHEN WE STARTED THIS. anyways We hope you enjoy our little teacher Seungmin one shot. Please Reblog and let us know what you thought <3
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There's something both satisfying and annoying about teaching and shaping the young minds of the new generation. Sure, you’re someone who most kids look up to. You have the honor of making an impact on their lives. Maybe they'll remember you in the future, maybe not. Either way, you're ultimately the one who helped prepare them for life outside of these high school walls you teach within. As much as you revel in this fact now, high school was a place you never wanted to return to. Within the walls of the high school live rowdy, unhinged, chaotic minds mixed with a splash of calm, put-together minds; and that only explains the student body. 
The staff on the other hand, well they’re on another level of unhinged and chaotic, though somehow put together enough to be able to contain themselves and careful to never unleash those thoughts on another member of staff- for obvious reasons. Sexual harassment claims, being fired over the smallest of flirting, let alone the fact that if anything escalated beyond such, you could expect the cops to parade you through the halls, with the curious eyes of the students all watching as you’re taken away. In any case, it was always best to stay away from any sort of relationship with a coworker. No matter what. 
Students, on the other side of the spectrum, never hid their relationships. You couldn’t count how many times you’d found students making out against their hallway lockers, running off to do god-knows-what in the staircase at the back of the school- or worse, when you’d be called to explain why student A and student B are being suspended, after being caught having sex in the washroom. Unfortunately for you, today was one of those days. 
The two students sitting directly in front of you seemed to show zero hint of remorse,  for, quite literally, being caught in the act during the middle of second period. Could they really not wait until after classes? It wasn’t until both sets of parents had filed into the room that the students began to look embarrassed. “Welcome,” you sighed as you arose from your seat to shake the parents' hands. They were agitated, clearly disappointed and rightfully so. You didn’t get too graphic about the details of the suspension, as the printed notice would detail everything anyway. The parents read over everything carefully.
The father of student A scowled at his son. “I’m sorry for the actions of my son,” He muttered, as he ripped his son from the chair he sat on. “This is beyond unacceptable and we will make sure he has learned his lesson.” Their verbal assault launched as your student was dragged through the somewhat empty school and you just barely caught the words "embarrassment" and "disgrace" as their voices faded down the halls. Student B sat quietly as she watched her mother read through the printout. Signing her name and passing the flimsy sheet of paper to her daughter to sign, in acknowledgement for her wrongdoings, they spoke not a word, but the anger radiating from them was enough indication that she would receive a thorough talking once out of the eyes of the school's principal and yourself. 
It was, undoubtedly, one of the longest days of the year. Not that there was any reasonable explanation, such as a time change or anything. No- it was simply just a day full of students who had decided that this particular day would be the best to ‘act up’. You often wondered why students who were caught by you seemed to think they would magically get away with their actions. Why your students lacked basic respect for you until the moment you smacked down the hammer, clearly marking the line between friendship and an authority figure. Sure, you’re one of the younger teachers in the school, but none of the others seemed to have this issue with their students. Hell, even the two students from just now thought they were merely getting a slap on the wrist for their actions- never expecting you to follow through with your threat of calling their parents in. Did they truly not expect you to do so? Could they really have thought you’d just speak to them, and tell them a small ‘Don’t do it again’? 
As you meandered through the empty halls of the school, you wondered why you had even taken up this job. You had barely finished your degree and mostly hoped to be working with children of elementary age. Children, though energetic and clumsy, still seemed like less work than a class full of twenty-eight, moody teenagers all in the age range of fifteen to sixteen. Somehow an elementary school still seemed like it would have more order than this mess of a high school. You know the curriculum, you’re a good teacher- Credit where credit is due, and surely you deserved it. When your students did in fact listen- instead of making snarky remarks about you that they thought you wouldn’t hear- they would pass tests and exams with flying colors. So what was it you were doing oh-so-wrong to deserve passing comments such as ‘Can I get your number?’  or the boy's new favorite ‘Mommy? Sorry. Mommy?’
The moment you reached the faculty room, you threw yourself on the couch face first, thinking you were completely alone as you’d seen no one when you walked in, you let out the loudest scream your lungs could manage into one of the throw pillows. “WHY” you wailed, allowing the pillow to muffle your desperate cries for answers. 
“Rough day?” a voice says with a light chuckle. Slowly you lift your head to see another staff member standing alone by the coffee maker. You drop your head in embarrassment as you have now learned, you were indeed not alone when you let out that blood-curdling scream. “Miss. Y/L/N. Are you alright?” He said as he approached you. Leave it to one bad day, for you to not be fully aware of your surroundings and to let out such a scream in front of the ‘most perfect’ teacher this school has ever had. He’s a very intelligent man, there has never been a problem that he couldn’t fix. He’s polite, well-spoken and could practically substitute for any teacher in the school. He had a teaching degree, as well as a few others that he had picked up ‘for fun’. Not only was he all of that and more, but of course he also happened to be around your age, perfect. He made everyone else, including senior staff, look like they had done nothing productive with themselves. You let out a soft laugh into the pillow, as the realization that he had caught you in a mental war finally began to sink in. 
“Mr. Kim,” you say as you hastily sit up to save what little pride you had left. To be laying on the couch would be one thing- but the way you were planted with your head buried in a pillow was another. How embarrassing. “What are you still doing here? It’s well past school hours.” He smirks as he lifts his coffee cup in the air as if to say ‘Cheers’ 
“Had a few tests to grade,” he chuckles, bringing his mug to his lips and taking a sip of the steaming coffee. Your gaze settles on his hands wrapped around the mug, the mug looking small in his hands. You watch as he sips on the liquid and swallows it, making his Adam's apple bob up and down again. God, he’s stupidly beautiful. “And how about yourself Miss. Y/L/N, what are you doing here well past school hours?” He repeats the words back to you, raising a brow in a teasing manner. 
“Caught two students again,” you sigh, “I can’t even think of one good reason for them to be doing such things in the washroom, during school hours much less.” You slump further into the couch, rubbing your temples in annoyance. 
“You tend to draw the short straw every time huh?” Seungmin chuckles as he sips some more of his coffee. He keeps his eyes trained on you as you close your eyes, rubbing your head. He smirks to himself as he approaches you cautiously. 
“Unfortunately.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your face and leaning forward, elbows resting on your knees. 
“Would you like to talk about it?” He pulls a chair up as he gets closer, swiftly shifting the chair so he can sit on it backwards, taking another sip of his damn coffee. Fuck, the bare minimum and its too motherfucking sexy. 
“Don’t you have papers to grade?” You eye him unsure if you really want to waste his time complaining if he has more important things to do. You’re also not entirely sure you want to talk about the whole thing anyway. 
“They can wait, you on the other hand look stressed.” 
“I don’t know Mr. Kim, I think it’s a bit beyond stress if you ask me.” You sigh again. “I think- I’m just tired and frustrated?” 
“Tired and frustrated, heavy combination.” he nods in understanding. “I feel as if catching students in the act isn’t what’s making you so tired and confused though.” 
“No, I mean yes- but not really.” You admit and Seungmin gives you a questioning look. You again sigh, “It’s the disrespect I receive, Mr. Kim. It’s overwhelming, and to be quite frank - annoying.” 
“I mean yes, doing such a thing on school grounds is disrespectful, but I wouldn’t take it personally Miss. Y/L/N.” Seungmin says as he takes another sip from his mug. 
“I don’t take that kind of thing personally Mr. Kim,” you laugh lightly. “I am genuinely constantly disrespected by my students, your students - at some points it feels like it’s the whole school.” You sigh in defeat. Seungmin is now sitting up straighter, he’s got a look of surprise. He seems genuinely confused at your statement. 
“How have they been disrespecting you?” He asks in concern. He desperately needs to know what the fuck the students have been saying about you. “Have they said something to you? Done something? Anything my students have done Miss. Y/L/N, I must know in order to speak to them accordingly.” You let out a light chuckle, shaking your head, and resting your chin on your palms. 
“Where do I start Mr. Kim? Would you like the comments on my body or should I tell you which students have attempted at grabbing my-” You stop yourself before finishing that thought, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. “In all honesty Mr. Kim, it doesn’t matter to me anymore. Perhaps after this year, I’ll resign.” At this point, you are so done with this school and you are so ready to quit and leave this school, it isn't doing your mental health any justice. As you are contemplating your future, Seungmin is reeling, he doesn't understand how his students have been saying such horrible things to you.  
“You can’t resign Y/N-” Seungmin says quickly, almost jumping out of his chair. He shocks himself from his sudden outburst, clearing his throat and smoothing his tie. Why would he drop the niceties? “I mean-” He runs his hand through his hair. “Miss. Y/L/N, the school would suffer a great loss if you were to resign.”
“How do you figure Mr. Kim?” you give him a questioning look. You truthfully thought that no one would really miss you, so why is he so adamant that you stay?
“Well, for one your students tend to have the highest grades in the school, which is no easy task.” He looks around the room as if to find the answer to your question written on the walls. “And from what I have always seen, all of our students absolutely adore you. The staff loves you, and I’m sure you’re on track for a few awards this year as well.” 
“You flatter me, but is it worth the verbal harassment from the students?” 
“You never told me what they’d been saying,” Seungmin mumbles through the pout of his lips. Fuck, I’m not strong enough for this. 
“The comments are different every day, from asking me on dates to calling me” you gesture air quotes, “Mommy. In the middle of class.” Seungmin’s jaw basically drops to the floor in complete shock. 
“Have-” he says cautiously as he picks his jaw up off the floor. “Have any of my boys said these things? If they have, I’d like names Y/N. Truthfully I’d like the names of all the boys who’ve made such inappropriate comments. ” He says sweetly but his jaw is set in anger, you can tell by the vein that is pulsing on his neck. 
“Mr. Kim-” 
“Please, call me Seungmin. I don’t see why we insist on speaking to each other as if we were students.” He smiles kindly at you.
“Seungmin.” Fuck, his name is so pretty. “It would be easier to list off the names of those who do not make such comments.” Seungmin looks immensely disgusted. 
~~~~~
Since the evening you spent speaking to Seungmin, he had begun loitering in your hallway. In the mornings, as students raced to get to class on time he would stand at your classroom door next to you, greeting students as they came in. During the lunch period, he would make his way into your classroom, and insist on spending the time with you- and if he had any sort of free period, he would keep a close watch on your class- well out of both you and the student's sight. 
He wanted to see with his own eyes, his students acting out. He wanted to be able to hear the disgusting comments himself. He thought surely it wouldn’t happen every day, right? Wrong. On the first day, he had heard the alleged Mommy comment at least four times. On the second day, he watched as a student attempted to smack your ass, only for you to turn around instantly and scold him yourself before sending him to class right after. 
Disgusted, was an understatement. Seungmin was livid. How could the students be this sick? He wondered. He would not allow this to continue. On the third day, he had finally had enough. After hearing passing comments about you in his own classroom, he’d immediately excused himself and marched his way down to the principal's office. 
“Sir,” Seungmin says as he enters the principal’s office. He’s fuming, barely holding himself together. 
“Mr. Kim, how can I help you?” The principal asks from his chair, motioning for Seungmin to enter the room.
“It seems we have an issue.” 
“Regarding?” 
“Miss. Y/L/N, and our students,” Seungmin announces, expecting the principal to be concerned, however, that wasn’t really the case.
“Ahh, Miss. Y/L/N again?” The principal tuts. Seungmin is shocked. Again? What does that mean? Has she already brought up the issue? 
“Ah, so you’ve heard-” Seungmin sighs calmly, and the principal nods. “To be absolutely truthful with you sir, this sort of behavior is absolutely-” The principal cuts him off before he finishes. 
“I don’t see why she’s so dramatic, I’ll have to have another talk with her.” The principal announces, picking up his office phone to get a hold of you.
“I’m sorry sir?” Seungmin asks, confused. Why would he have a talk with you?
“I don’t see why a woman like her would wear such clothes and later complain about boys being boys.” The principal sighs in annoyance. “I mean one look at her and any man would want a piece.” Seungmin wraps his hands in a tight fist at his side. He really wishes he didn't walk into this room.
“Sir, that is wildly inappropriate to say about a member of staff.” Seungmin seethes. This is not how a supervisor should be treating a subordinate, this isn't how you should treat another human being, especially one that is trying to do her job. How can someone have the audacity to say that openly? “She is-”
“A woman, Mr. Kim. She is a woman, and women, especially women like her, should dress according to their bodies. Wearing such tight clothing around boys who are barely getting their hormones in check is just asking for-” 
“She wears dress pants, sir? She is always professional in her clothing. I don’t see how this constitutes harassment.” The principal attempts to interrupt but Seungmin continues. “To say a woman is ‘asking’ for sexual harassment from students, or men in general for what they wear is absurd. It is her body, she may do with it as she pleases so as long as it is school appropriate. She is not asking for anything but the bare minimum!” The principal rolls his eyes at Seungmin’s statement. “She deserves the respect any of the other teachers receive!” 
“Well, she isn’t like the other teachers now is she?” 
“What does that mean sir.” He fists his hands even tighter if that was even humanly possible. 
“She’s different- she’s more of a looker. Please, Mr. Kim, don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. The entirety of the faculty knows you’ve had the same thoughts as the rest of us.” Seungmin can feel his blood boiling, if he could, he would launch himself at the principal and punch him out for the shit that was coming out of his mouth. The principal admitted to thinking of you grossly and has now accused him of the same. Sure, he had thought you beautiful, intelligent, and funny but to mentally undress you was something he never did. No. He respected you far too much for that. 
“I do not appreciate you painting me as a predator.” Seungmin grits his teeth, tightening his jaw. 
“Seungmin, go back to your class. There are more important things to deal with.” The principal waves him off in annoyance. “I should have gotten rid of that woman after the third time she brought this issue up, if it was so bad she would have changed her appearance.” 
“Her looks should never have been a problem in the first place!” Seungmin yells at the steaming pile of shit in front of him. “How dare you speak about her as if she was nothing more than some sort of-” he struggles to find the right word. “Doll!” 
“Mr. Kim.” the principal warns in annoyance.
“She is much more than that! An intelligent woman who has put up with this for far too long! If you do not wish to punish the students for their actions sir, I will have no choice but to email the board.” Seungmin glares at the principal. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. 
“I will be putting you on suspension, Mr. Kim. Think about what you really want to do here. Go. I’ll have someone cover your class. Get out of my sight.” Seungmin leaves the office in a huff, walking aggressively back as he internally thinks about how he will absolutely fuck that mans career. He walks past your class and you notice that he's pissed, you race out to see him.
“Mr. Kim!” Seungmin stops in his tracks and looks at you. You let the door close to your classroom behind you to have a more private conversation with him. His attitude changed when he saw you but he was still tense. You notice his knuckles are white, his hands tightly fisted at his sides. “Will I see you for lunch again?” 
“No.” He says angrily. He never misses lunch with you. Why is this time different? What made him so angry? 
“Are you alright Mr. Kim?” You ask cautiously. He looks around the hallway and sighs. 
“Miss. Y/L/N, it seems in attempting to do what was right, I have been suspended. My apologies, but I will not be staying for lunch.” 
“Suspended?! For what?!” You yelp in shock. Seungmin is the most perfect teacher at this school, how in the world did he get suspended?
“It seems harassment in this school goes unpunished.” You look at him confused. What the hell is he talking about? “I will also be considering my position here. Perhaps I will join you in resigning.” You’re stupidly confused. What brought all of this up? Did he say something about the harassment you faced daily?  You should have warned him that you brought this issue up to the principal in the past only to be ignored every single time. 
“Mr. Kim, I’m- I’m so sorry. I should have told you not to bring it up-” you stutter as you’re finding it increasingly difficult to look him in the eyes for feeling guilty that your problem had caused him to be suspended. He shouldn't be suspended. 
“Y/N.” Seungmin sighs and softly brushes his hand against yours to gain your attention again. “It’s not your fault that the people who are supposed to stand by your side haven’t. My suspension only opened my eyes to the massive flaw we have within the school. I intend to either fix it or remove myself from the equation.” Seungmin bows to you lightly and walks away, thinking about every way he could get the principal fired. He would have to email the school board. You stand in the hallway completely flabbergasted by what just happened. The bell rings stealing your attention from him, as you turn back to call for him, he’s gone.
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You hear a knock at your door. You quickly run into your bathroom to make sure you look presentable after slaving over dinner prep. You run to the door and open it quickly. Seungmin is standing there dressed casually, not in his usual slacks and button-downs, with a bottle of wine in his hand. You beam a smile at him. “Welcome!” You motion for him to enter your home. 
“Thank you,” he smiles back. The atmosphere in the apartment is so heavy with awkwardness. He looks down at his hands and realizes he still has the bottle of wine in his hands. “Oh, I- uh, brought this for you- I mean us,” he says as he holds the bottle out for you. You take it with a small thank you and make your way to the kitchen. This is the first time the two of you have hung out outside of work so it’s bound to be a little awkward… right? You can't help but sneak glances at him. He looks handsome even in mundane clothes. He stares at all the food you prepared in awe, “Seriously, you didn’t have to do all of this?” 
“I felt like it,” you chuckle lightly. You’re incredibly nervous for him to taste your food. You very rarely cook for anyone and especially since it’s him you kind of went a little overboard. “Anyways, sit or-”
“Where’s your corkscrew?” He asks politely as he makes his way into your kitchen. “I find a bit of wine is always a welcomed relaxant.” You laugh and point to the drawer. You take out a few wine glasses while he struggles to pull the cork out of the bottle, making the both of you laugh, and breaking some of the unnecessary tension. You both sit down to enjoy the meal and the wine, the conversations flowing smoothly. 
“Oh please Mr. Kim-” you laugh, your cheeks tinted pink from drinking so much. Seungmin’s mind is reeling, he thinks you’re absolutely adorable, but in a corruptible way. Wait, did I just think that? Do I want to corrupt her?? No… I’d be no better than those fuckers at school… but she looks so pretty right now, her eyes glossed over, cheeks pink… fuck.
“I told you, call me Seungmin, we’re not in school,” he chuckles lightly, helping you out of the chair at the table and taking your hand to lead you to the couch.
“Sorry, old habits,” you frown. “I’m sorry you got suspended… because of me.” You sniffle a little as you finish your sentence. He was the only person who treated you decently at that hell hole, of course, you’re upset he's gone. And he’s also the only eye candy at that school and you can no longer ogle over him from down the hall.
“Hey, I told you, I got suspended because I couldn't keep my mouth shut about what was going on at the school. It was in no way your fault.” He said softly as he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, wiping away a single tear that ran down your cheek.
“I just feel like I didn’t do enough to make it up to you,” you say softly as you play with the hem of his shirt. He watches your hands carefully, studying the curve of your fingers, wondering what they’d feel wrapped around his- no- stop. Don’t think like that… Seungmin quickly shakes the thought out of his head, but he couldn’t help but admire you. So sweet, so sickeningly innocent. The way you look up at him with those eyes, like a siren beckoning him to kiss you, god how badly he wanted to kiss you, touch you, make you, his- only his. 
He shouldn’t be thinking these things, he shouldn’t want you as badly as he does but as he looks at you- shying away from him all he can think about is how he could ruin that innocence you seem to unknowingly have, he wants to hear the sinful noises he just knows you’d be capable of making at his command. Fuck-  oh fuck, the ways he could ruin you. I really am no better than the rest of them… 
“Well, there is something that we could do to make it up to both of us,” he said carefully, tracing his fingers over your knuckles, a shiver running down your spine.
“What do you have to make up for?” you ask softly, looking at his eyes for the first time since you sat on the couch. His pupils have blown out, a slight blush to his cheeks, his ears red.
“For the thoughts, I’ve been having all night,” he admits, ghosting his fingers further up your forearm, tracing over every blemish on your skin.
“O-oh? What k-kind of thoughts?” you ask shyly as another shiver runs down your spine from his gentle touches.
“I’ve been thinking about how much I want to corrupt you, how I want to wrap you up in a bow like a fucking Christmas present begging to be opened, how I want to see you writhe beneath me as I fuck you hard and rough until you’re screaming my name.” 
You moan at his words as he rests his hands on your thighs, gripping them tightly in his hands. “What… what’s been stopping you?” You close your eyes as he massages your thighs, slowly running his fingers up under the hem of your skirt.
“I…” Seungmin pauses as he slowly removes his hands from your legs, suddenly feeling guilty at his actions. “I don’t want you to think I’m just another sleazy guy.” You immediately shake your head vigorously.
“I don’t think you're sleazy. At all.” You say, shocked at the confidence in your voice. “I… you’re the only person that has stood up for me… cared about me.” You trace your fingers over his knuckles. “And…” you’re not sure if it was the atmosphere or the alcohol that gave you the confidence but you blurted out without even a second thought, “I also think you’re incredibly handsome, Seungmin.”
Without a second further, Seungmin lunges forward and crashes his lips to yours in a hot, wet, steamy kiss. He licks into your mouth and quickly dominates the kiss, guiding you to match his rhythm. His hands glide further up your legs, under your skirt again and his fingers brush along the gusset of your panties. 
“Already so wet for me, angel?”
You whine into his mouth and grip the hem of his shirt tighter, trying to pull him closer to you. He wraps his hands around your wrists and yanks them away from him as he smirks into the kiss. 
“When did I say you could touch, angel?” He asks darkly, his tone firm, demanding. He held your hands down to your sides as he peppered kisses along your jaw. “Be a good girl and stay still for me.” You felt your body shiver and a high whine escaped your lips. You wiggled slightly, the need between your legs growing to be unbearable.
“Stop moving or I’m going to have to tie you down, angel.” Seungmin teases but pauses at the immediate blush that flashed across your cheeks.  “Oh, you like that don’t you.” Seungmin chuckles as he bites at your chin. “I don’t have anything to tie you up, angel, maybe next time.”
You squirm underneath him, desperate to get his attention since your words seemed to have been caught in your throat. “S-Seung-”
He stops sucking on your neck to allow you some space. “What is it, angel? Are you ok?” He looks so concerned as he looks over your face for any discomfort.
“‘M ok.” You say breathlessly. “H-have rope.” Seungmin stops and stares down at you, his eyes darkening.
“Oh, my naughty, naughty girl. You have rope? Who’s tied you up before, angel? Hmm? Tell me.” Seungmin seethes as he grips your wrists tighter, feeling incredibly possessive over you all of a sudden.
“N-no one. I s-swear. N-never tried it.” You begin to cry, not wanting him to run away from you, disgusted by your desires. Seungmin lets go of your wrists to wipe away your tears, kissing your cheeks and then your nose.
“Ok, angel. I believe you, don’t cry just yet.” Seungmin runs his hands down your cheek, down the column of your neck, through the valley between your breasts, across your stomach, and ghosting his fingertips across the hem of your skirt. “Why don’t we take this to your bedroom then so we can use that rope of yours.” He holds his hand out to help you up off the couch. You take his hand and rush toward your bedroom and close the door behind both of you. You go to your bedside and pull out a box from under your bed.
“I know it’s cliche to have a box of toys under the bed, please don’t judge me.” You say shyly as you stay knelt on the ground with the closed box in front of you. Seungmin slowly walks up to you and runs his fingers through your hair as you lean into his touch.
“So obedient,” Seungmin chuckles. He leans down and opens the lid to the box and inspects the toys inside. “Which one’s are your favorite?” He looks at you when you don’t respond and he chuckles lightly again. “You have permission to speak, angel.”
You point to a black bullet vibrator that sat atop all of the other items in the box and a clear silicone dildo sat right next to it. “These two,” you whisper quietly.
Seungmin huffs and takes the two toys out and tosses them on the floor next to you and continues to examine the other toys in the box. There's a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, rope, a thick veiny long lifelike dildo, and a curved vibrator - the type that has internal and external stimuli. “Have you ever used any of these?”
You shake your head no. 
“I want you to speak when I ask you a question,” Seungmin says in a demanding tone, making a shiver run down your spine.
“N-no, I haven’t used them.” You respond shyly, keeping your eyes focused on your hands folded in your lap.
“No, what?” Seungmin says as he lifts your head up with his fingers pressed under your chin. “What do you call me, angel? You get to decide.”
“N-no, I haven’t u-used them, sir.” You say as a blush creeps across your cheeks and you feel more wet between your folds. You see Seungmin shiver when the title rolls off your tongue, but he still keeps his cool.
“Why haven’t you used them? You bought them, you should use them, no?” Seungmin says as he begins removing each item from the box and placing them carefully in between the two of you.
“I-I never had the opportunity, sir.” You say as you look away from him. He tuts and guides you to look at him again. He’s giving you a knowing look like he knows that’s not the entire truth. Fuck, was I always this easy to read? “I-I’m scared, sir.” You say quietly, the confession making you feel more shy than you already were. You’ve never shown anyone your treasure chest before and the fact that you were showing Mr. Kim, the man you’ve had a crush on for AGES, was fucking with your brain more than you would’ve liked. You wanted to do anything, everything he asked. Wanted to be good for him. Wanted to show him that you’d do whatever he wanted. Seungmin’s gaze softens and he brushes his fingers across your cheek, you lean into the touch, desperate to feel his warmth again.
“You’re scared of the toys? Hmm, my poor angel isn’t very heavenly if she has all of these naughty toys, right?” Seungmin asks and he sees the panic flicker in your eyes. “Shh, angel it’s ok. I like your naughty desires, but it makes me want to corrupt you even more. Would you like that? Can I teach you?”
You nod your head excitedly. “Yes, yes. Want you to teach me. Show me, sir.” 
Seungmin shivers in excitement. He pets your cheek gently. “Anything for you my angel. Get on the bed on your knees for me.”
You do as he says and place yourself at the center of the bed, carefully tucking your knees beneath you and placing your hands in your lap, awaiting his instructions. He smiles when you’re settled and stands at the end of the bed, looking over your body as if you were a piece of art in a museum. 
“Such an obedient little thing aren’t you.” Seungmin praises, you feel a satisfied shiver run down your spine. “Now, I want you to be a good girl and take your clothes off for me, and when you’re done, get back into that position. Understood, pup?”
“Y-yes sir.” You carefully remove your shirt, trying your best to make your movements as sexy as possible. You lean back and remove your skirt and panties, tossing them onto the floor next to your discarded shirt. You prop yourself back up on your knees and slowly reach back to unclasp your bra, suddenly feeling all too shy to be so naked in front of him. Seungmin walks to the side of the bed and sits down beside you when he notices your hesitation. He carefully tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He runs his fingers down your cheek to your chin and tilts your head towards him.
“You don’t need to be shy, pup. You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, his fingers running up and down your arm. “Let me see all of you.”
You nod your head, unclasp your bra, and let it drop to your lap. Seungmin picks it up and tosses it over his shoulder as he stares at you. He looks you up and down, briefly licking his lips when his gaze locks on your lips. He gets up from beside you and stands at the foot of the bed again right in front of your box of goodies.
“What shall we do first pup?” Seungmin looks down at the box and a small smirk dances across his lips. He pulls out the silky black blindfold, “Shall we start with this?”
He walks over to the side of the bed again and places his hands on your shoulder, lightly pushing you down so you’d lay flat on the bed. He pushes the hair out of your face and places the silky material over your eyes. “I’m gonna need you to tell me if you ever feel uncomfortable, ok pup? You know the stop light system?”
“Y-yes sir,” you mumble breathlessly. The removal of sight has already heightened your other senses. His voice was caramel sweet to your ears and you wanted.. no.. needed more.
“Good girl.” You feel the bed lift beside you as Seungmin begins to walk away from you. “Stay just like that.”  You hear him moving around the room and the rustling of the items in your box until you hear him gasp. “Ohh fuck.” You hear him whisper probably to himself so you stay silent. “You really are a pup aren’t you?” You hear a chain clanging against itself as seungmin removes whatever it is from the box. “Sit up.” Seungmins words are commanding and you obey immediately. You listen as the chain and inevitably Seungmin approaches you again. He grabs your jaw and leans in close to your ear. “I can’t wait to see you in this pup. And I swear to god, if you disobey me I will not go easy on you. You’ve been such a good pet so far, let’s not make it go to waste huh?” You shudder and nod as best as you could within his grasp.
“Y-yes sir, I’ll be a good pup, I swear.” You want to please him, you want him to praise you again and call you a good girl. You wanna be so so so good for him.
He chuckles in your ear and he moves his hand down from your chin and rests it around your throat. You keen at the motion and lean into his hand, wanting so desperately for him to squeeze. “Oh, it’s a good thing you like things wrapped around your neck pup.” Seungmin teases as he tightens and loosens his hold on your neck in quick succession. You whine and buck your hips up at nothing, the need between your legs starting to become unbearable. 
Seungmin removes his hand from your throat and you let out a desperate whine. “Shh, pup, be patient.” You suddenly feel cold, rough material tightening around your neck. Seungmins face is so close to yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek. You want to turn your head and kiss him but you want to be good. Need to be good. So you stay still and wait for his instructions. Once he latches the material together you feel the cold metal chain drape across your chest and down the valley of your breasts. “Go ahead, pup, feel it.” You reach up to your neck and feel at the material that was placed around your throat and you gasp at the realization. The studded collar you bought a few months ago, was now sat prettily around your neck, the leash dangling down the front of your body. 
“Oh,” you whisper breathlessly as you run your fingers up and down the cold metal leash. You suddenly feel incredibly self conscious. You’ve never been in a position like this with any of your previous partners, most of them finding your desires to be too much. Your breath hitches as you sit in the silence. You can’t tell if Seungmin moved away from you or where he may be. Does he also find you undesirable? Is he disgusted by your wants? You drop your hands to the bed and feel around for him. “S-seungmin..” you whine as you’re worriedly searching for him. You start breathing heavier as you’re stressing over not being able to see him, hear him, or feel him.
You feel warm hands wrap around yours. “Hey, I’m right here pup.” You whimper as he places a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Do you want me to take the blindfold off?”
“No!” You reply a little too quickly. You shake your head. “N-no, I wanna keep it on… a-at least for a little while.”
He chuckles and kisses your cheek again. “Ok, pup. For a little while.” He begins to pull his hand away from you but you quickly chase after it and pull him back to you. “Pup.” Seungmin sits beside you on the bed and lifts the blindfold off from your eyes. “Look at me,” he says in a soft but demanding tone. Your eyes take a minute to adjust to the light but you look directly in front of you and see Seungmin sitting inches from you, his face a whisper away from yours. He looks at your eyes and it feels like he’s searching for something in them. “Listen to me pup. You’ve been so good so far, such a good girl. I’m gonna make you feel so good, but I need you to trust me.” He gently runs his finger across your cheek. “I’m not gonna leave you. I’ll be right here and if you want me to stop at any time just say ‘red’ and I’ll stop immediately.” His gaze softens as he notices the slight quiver in your lips. “You really are new to this aren’t you pup?”
You nod your head. Seungmin carefully watches you as you open and close your mouth, trying to find the words you want to say. “Y-yes. Wanted to try, b-but no one…” you trail off as you feel his fingers intertwined with yours. “No one’s wanted to d-do this with me.”
Seungmins gaze darkens slightly and he looks away from you, his jaw firmly set. You reach your hand up and guide him to look at you again.
“Please teach me.” You whisper as you touch your forehead against his. “I trust you Seungmin,” you say in a featherlight voice, closing your eyes and bringing the blindfold back over your eyes.
Seungmin is perfectly still as he watches you in awe. His precious pup is gaining some confidence, you saying you trust him, you wanting him to teach you. He’s not sure he’s ready for it himself. He feels the tent in his pants tightening. “Of course I’ll teach you pup,” you feel the bed lift from in front of you and feel a searing smack against your ass. You whimper at the pain, feeling a hand smoothing over the red mark that was most definitely left behind. “Firstly, you called me the wrong name, pup, and for that, you need to be punished.”
“I-I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” You say breathless as Seungmin nips at your neck.
“You better hope it doesn’t.” There’s another slap on your ass. “I want you to count, pup. Starting now.” He lands another smack and you start counting in your head. Seungmin yanks you by your hair and forces you to lean against his chest, his voice seething and close to your ear. “Out loud pup.”
“O-one.” You say with a shaky breath.
“Good girl.” Seungmin praises as he pushes you back down on your hands and knees. You keen at the praise and you push your ass backwards awaiting the next round of slaps.
You count out loud for each slap across your ass. “Eighteen.” Slap. “N-nineteen.” Slap. “Twenty.” Seungmin rubs soothing circles on your ass as the sting subsides.
“Well done pup. You did a good job.” Seungmin guides you to lay down on your back. He gives you a few gentle pecks on your lips as he runs his fingers across your tummy. “I’m gonna tie you up, okay pup? Can you tell me your color?”
“Green, sir. P-please keep going.” You say as you try to reach for his hands. Seungmin chuckles and kisses your knuckles.
“Ok pup, I’ll keep going.” Seungmin kisses your forehead and walks towards the end of the bed. You hear him rummaging through the box and he slowly approaches you again. “Lift your hands.” 
You slowly lift your hands up and Seungmin places the toy in your hands. You wrap your fingers around the material and feel the coarse threads of the rope you had inside your box. “Can you tell me what it is, pup?”
“Rope, sir.” You say as you run your fingers over the rope. You know the rope is a deep crimson, a color you thought would look stunning against your skin. You were so nervous to proceed, but you wanted to trust Seungmin. He’d take care of you.
“That's very good. Very good girl.” Seungmin praises and takes the rope from your hands and helps you sit up. “Listen to me carefully. I am going to tie you up. The rope is going to be nice and tight around your skin. It’ll feel good, but if it's too tight or you're having a hard time breathing or you're nervous, you tell me immediately and I’ll cut you free. Do you understand?”
You smiled towards the direction of his face and nodded lightly. “I understand, sir.” You feel him run the rough material over your skin. You shudder at the feeling, goosebumps rising over your arms as the rope is wrapped around your body. Seungmin tightens the rope every so often around your chest, your hips, your thighs. You feel the wetness pooling between your legs as he continues slowly. He traces your skin before the rope tracks over the same space. You suddenly feel incredibly overwhelmed by the intimacy of this type of play. Something you’ve never experienced before. Something you weren't prepared to feel. You noticed that Seungmin stopped his movements. “Pup.” Seungmin whispers, his lips grazing your shoulder as he places light kisses over the skin. He pulls your blindfold off and throws it off the bed. He’s looking at you with so much care in his eyes, but there's an underlying lust that he was holding back. “Don’t cry. Not yet.”
You didn’t even realize you were crying and you try to reach up to wipe the tears away quickly realizing that your arms are tied tightly to your sides. You start to fluster and your breathing picks up. “I-I’m sorry…” You start but Seungmin quickly places his hands on each side of your face and looks at you deeply.
“Hey, you’re ok. I’m right here. Color?”
“Y-yellow. Yellow, sir.” You say as you close your eyes feeling the tears pooling behind your eyes. Seungmin moves closer to you and places your forehead on his shoulder as he runs soothing lines up and down your spine and pats your head with his other hand. You two sit like that for a few moments, your breathing coming back to normal. “G-green.” 
Seungmin lightly pushes you back to sitting up. He smiles at you and grabs the rope again. He goes slower this time and finishes wrapping the rope around your body. He sits in front of you as you wiggle slightly as he asks if it's too tight. You promise him that you’re ok and he carefully lays you down on the bed again. He moves back to the box and pulls out the vibrator and the dildo. He returns to your side and traces the vibrator over the rope. You nod at him to continue and Seungmin smirks at you. He climbs on the bed and sits between your legs. He runs his hands up and down your soft skin as he turns the vibrator on.
He traces the vibrator over the rope and runs it along your arms. He slowly drags the vibrator between the valley of your breasts, making direct eye contact with you as he puts the device straight onto your nipple. You arch your back into the sensation and whine high as the vibrations send a wave of warmth down to your core. Seungmin spits into his hand and grabs the dildo, bringing it to your core and running it up and down your lips. You thrash at the feeling, bucking your hips to try to relieve the tension that's been building up between your legs since you and Seungmin were making out on your couch.
He teases the dildo against your entrance, slowly pushing the tip between your lips and quickly retreating, repeating the motion over and over again as he quickens the vibrations on your nipples.
“S-sir, please,” you plead, you need so much more than he’s giving you.
“Okay, pup, I’ll give it to you,” Seungmin says sweetly as he forces the dildo into your core in one swift push. Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, your walls pulse around the toy. He pulls the dildo out entirely and pushes it all the way in once again. There's a teasing smile on his lips as he pumped the toy deep into your cunt. 
“F-feels s-so good,” you whine as you roll your hips in rhythm with his thrusts. “W-want you, s-sir,” you say with a stroke of confidence. He slowed his pace and he looked at you carefully. Something flashes across his face for a brief moment, his dominant persona being replaced by something else, something more desperate. He shook his head and his dominant persona was back. He removed the dildo from your cunt and turned off the vibrator, tossing it to the floor. He leaves you alone on the bed as you watch him remove his clothes, the waistband of his underwear catching on his hard cock, releasing it to let it slap against his stomach. You watch him in awe as he pumps his cock a few times, running a hand through his hair pushing it back, giving you the most exquisite view you've ever seen. Seungmin pauses his movements and smirks down at you.
“Would you like to stay tied up or do you want your hands?” Seungmin looks down at you cautiously but still with a fire behind his eyes that makes you want to hide behind your hands… if they were free.
“I’d like to stay t-tied please,” you say quietly, wiggling on the bed. Seungmin nods and crawls over you, running a finger down your cheek to your chin. He places a feather-light kiss on your nose and continues his light kisses down your neck as he lines himself up to your entrance. He pushes his tip in slowly and harshly snaps his hips into yours, punching the breath out of you. Seungmin stills as he places gentle kisses along your collarbone, snaking his hand up to gently hold your neck.
“Breathe, pup,” Seungmin whispers as he begins to thrust into you at a slow but calculated pace. There isn't any rhythm to his thrusts but the depth that he's reaching inside you already has you seeing stars. You let out shaky breaths, trying your best to focus on Seungmin’s piercing gaze. He’s staring down at you, taking in every single twitch and hitch in your breathing. He’s analyzing what feels good, gauging your reactions to each thrust, each touch. 
After a particularly pointed thrust you let out a high-pitched whimper and Seungmin’s gaze darkens. He starts thrusting in a steady rhythm now, hitting that spot that made you see stars, forcing high needy whimpers from your puffy lips. His hand on your neck tightens and his other hand finds your sweet little bundle of nerves. He lightly runs his finger over the bud and you attempt to reach down and pull his hand away from you, but your hands stay where they are, tied to your sides. You try to wiggle away from him but with his hand around your throat and his cock pressing deep inside your wet cunt you’re not entirely successful. Seungmin chuckles cynically at your attempt and he flicks his fingers over your clit repeatedly, watching as you hold back your moans with your lips pulled between your teeth and he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Feel good, pup?” You whine in response, unable to form coherent words at the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. You think for a brief moment that Seungmin will punish you for not answering his question with words, but apparently, he doesn't mind this time and continues his assault on your clit. After a rough thrust, you muffle another moan. Seungmin slaps your messy cunt harshly before soothing his hands over the area. “Don’t hold back your pretty moans, pup. Lemme hear how loud you can be for me.”
You're a writhing mess below him. Moans, ragged breaths, and skin slapping against skin is all that can be heard in your small bedroom. You felt like you could've come at least 10 times already but this time, you can feel it’s different. You want to touch him, pull him close to you, kiss him as you come. “M-min, pl-please stop,” you ask breathlessly.
It takes him a moment to pause his movements before he's looking down at you attentively, searching your features for any discomfort. “Did it hurt? Are you ok? Did I go too rough?” he asks calmly, but there is concern written all over his face. You wiggle your hands that are still bound to your sides and look down at them and look back up to him quickly. 
“Wan my hands,” you say quickly, adding an almost forgotten ‘please’ at the end. Seungmin looks down at your hands and quickly pulls at the knots, releasing your tired limbs from their hold, and resumes his previous pace before you have the time to recover. You yelp at the sudden movements and quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. “S-seungmin~” you whimper, “G-gonna, w-wanna cum.” 
Seungmin must be close as his grunting has gotten louder since you wrapped yourself around him. “Cum when you’re ready pup, getting close.” Seungmin pushes his nose into your neck, lapping his tongue along your skin, pressing messy kisses here and there as he moans into you.
You feel something deep in your stomach begin to tighten. You dig your nails into Seungmin’s back as your moans get higher in pitch. You babble incoherent phrases as you wrap your legs around his body, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. Seungmin quickened his fingers against your clit, sliding his fingers into your tight cunt with his palm resting on your puffy (and incredibly abused) clit. The additional intrusion was enough to push you over. You muttered out an incoherent sound along with a breathless, “c-cuhm”, as your body shudders and your cunt pulses around Seungmins cock and fingers. A loud shriek pushes past your lips as your climax rushes through you. Seungmin mumbles encouragements into your skin, kissing your ear, chin, and neck. “That’s it pup, wan you to feel so good. Such a good pup, my good pup.” 
You feel like you're floating as Seungmins pace begins to get more sloppy. He grinds into you as he groans more praises into your ear. “Good pup, so good for me. My good girl. Good pup, making me feel so good.” He curls his fingers up into your cunt adding pressure once again as he pushes in deeper, his tip kissing your cervix. “Cumin, pup, cuming,” he mumbles as he releases deep inside of you. The pressure of his fingers, his cock pushing against your cervix, and his cum filling you has another orgasm racing through you. You dig your nails into his back as you soundlessly cum again. Seungmin collapses on top of you, his breathing harsh as he softly rocks into you, riding out the last of both of your orgasms.
After a few moments, he pushes himself up to look down at you. He places a light kiss on your nose as he carefully removes himself from you. “Stay right there,” he whispers as he moves towards the bathroom. While he’s gone you catch your breath, stuck in a semi-trance. He’s back in a few moments with what looks like lotion and a towel. Seungmin makes quick and gentle work to wipe you down, rubbing lotion along your skin, all the while he's whispering sweet words to you. You feel so warm, so cared for, so wanted. He has you take a few sips of water before he pulls you into bed, letting you cuddle into his chest as he wraps his arms around you. As you slowly drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel so loved, so safe.
The weekend passes by quickly, Seungmin leaving only to gather some clothes from his house. He spends the weekends exploring you, learning your inner workings, how your mind ticks and functions, how your body reacts to the things he does, and how his mind and body react to you. He also spends a portion of the weekend sending emails which he tells you are simply to figure out when his suspension ends. On Monday Seungmin will return to school, and though it has only been three days, getting used to calling him Mr. Kim in school again seems daunting with you now being used to simply calling him Seungmin. 
“What if I just quit and go to another school?” You whisper as Seungmin parks the car in the school lot, Seungmin takes your hand softly, giving you a small smile before speaking. 
“Everything will be fine, Miss Y/L/N. No more harassment from students, or staff.” 
“How’d you know about the staff-” 
“I just know my love, but I promise you, no more.” You’re not sure how Seungmin can make such a promise but still. You make your way into your classroom, your students all waiting attentively for you to start your lesson. The few typical troublemakers in the back sit unusually silent as you begin. A knock on your door causes you to stop your slideshow as a woman you haven’t seen before walks in, followed by Seungmin directly behind her. He closes the door and waits patiently for the woman to speak. 
“Good morning students,” she starts, “Miss. Y/L/N.” she nods to you, “My name is Mrs. Im, as some of you may know,” she says as she stares to the back of the class where the usual group of boys sit up straight, some with their heads hung down. “I am your school's new principal. I’ve come to introduce myself. Miss. Y/L/N may I speak to you in the hallway quickly?” You nod as you follow her and Seungmin out into the hall. Your heart racing from not knowing what any of this was about. 
“Mr. Kim, Mrs. Im. What is this about?” 
“Miss. Y/L/N, I’ll need you to give me a list of the staff who have harassed you. I apologize for this being so sudden, but I’d like to rid my school of such behavior immediately.” Seungmin stands proud beside Mrs. Im as she speaks, “Though for now, I can only offer a suspension as we await investigation but I hope this helps you feel a bit safer within your workspace.” You nod softly as she smiles and walks away, leaving you alone for a moment with Seungmin.
“See my love? I told you. No more.” He smiles at you as he takes your hand gently in his, tracing his fingers across your digits and placing a soft and quick kiss on your fingertip. “Nothing bad's gonna happen to you anymore, not when I can help.” You can’t help the blush that dusts across your cheeks.
“I- uh, gotta get back to my class,” you say sheepishly as you slowly back towards your classroom. 
“I’ll meet you at the car after school?” He asks cooly as he tucks his hands into his pockets, smirking at you.
“Of course, Mr. Kim,” you sing-song back to him as you walk into your classroom. Seungmin stands in the hallway for a beat before he turns around, kicking his feet, and lightly chucking to himself. 
“My lovely little pup,” he whispers with a smile on his face as he walks down the hall, planning how he is going to have his way with you later this evening. 
➽──────────────❥
Tags @chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup @lieghscloud @foxinnie8 @scarletbedlam @kpoppin-to-the-beat @stay-berry @bbymatz @kurxxmi @skzstaykatsy
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genericpuff · 2 years
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Minthe, Pyros, and how LO treats motherhood.
I wrote a piece on this over on reddit but wanted to make a dedicated post here.
So I'm sure I'm not the only one a little miffed by Episode 212-214's development concerning Minthe. But I feel like there's one thing that has yet to really be mentioned in any of these discussions.
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There's this... issue that often arises in stories written about female characters, and it's not one that's exhibited purely by uninformed male writers (like those passages of women looking in the mirror and commenting on their bodies in great, hyperbolic detail, that's absolutely "a man wrote this" energy lol).
The issue I'm getting at specifically is one that seems to come up universally regardless of the gender of the writer, and that's regarding the usage of motherhood and childrearing in media when concerning a female character.
Some women want children. Others don't. Both are valid. But for some reason, it tends to be a trend in media for women who don't want children to still somehow inevitably end up with them, whether it's through adoption or pregnancy, whatever have you. On its own, this might be fine for some stories, you get the character realizing "wow kids aren't actually that bad!" But when it becomes a trend for female characters to constantly "evolve" into characters who like raising children, that's when it starts to become a sort of unrealistic, unhealthy precedent.
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I get what Rachel is trying to do here, opening Minthe's flashback with a scene about her mother and how her mother clearly didn't want kids but ended up with one anyways; and then ending it with Minthe, who ALSO didn't want kids but ALSO ended up with them anyways (albeit not biological) but showing the difference in how Minthe handles the situation.
But it's not being done well because it's failing to recognize that 1.) women should be allowed to not want children and not be seen as the villain (disclaimer: this isn't me saying how Minthe's mother treated her is an excuse, if anything I feel like the inclusion of Minthe's mother at this point in time feels very scapegoaty?), and 2.) teaching a preschool class is anything like raising a child as a single mother.
But this mirrors that deeper issue that I mentioned above. That Minthe, a character who didn't want to get married and didn't want to have children, has her character arc resolved by her taking care of children. You see what I'm getting at here? There's this constant trend of women in literature and media "finding their calling" through children. That a woman's character arc can't be considered "complete" until she's had children or "learned to love them."
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IDK what Rachel has against moms, but I'm really tired of seeing LO's motherly characters get reduced to overbearing assholes; while characters who are assholes are "fixed" by having children (not just with Minthe, even Hades - it's a common 'defense' I see that "Hades will be better at it when he has his own biological children, how he treated Thanatos has nothing to do with how he'll be as a dad!"🚩🚩🚩) It sets a very weird precedent ESPECIALLY when you remember that Minthe was also someone who was designed with BPD.
The cliffhanger we got a few weeks ago was of Minthe saying she "had something to do" after spotting Demeter. This led us to believe she'd be confronting her. Instead, we get Minthe... going to work to teach nymphs how to write resumes. Honestly, I think people's predictions from that cliffhanger way back would have been far more suitable - have Minthe approach Demeter and talk about her unresolved issues with her mother and all the reflecting she did while in plant form and tie it into Demeter's development and how she views/treats her own daughter. Having her just clearly "moved on" is... fine, but not really as impactful as it could have been to see Minthe ACTUALLY develop beyond her issues besides just telling Thetis to fuck off (for a second time, I might add) and ignoring Hades (as we're led to believe by her choosing to go to work instead of going along with Thetis' crap).
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Minthe taking over a classroom of preschoolers does not solve ANY of the pre-established problems she had, it doesn't even begin to address her own insecurities or problems she exhibited from her side of her relationship with Hades. It's just "look! she's gonna be a better mom than her own mom was!" which tells us... what exactly? How is that something that's relevant to Minthe's character arc? How does that feel 'resolved'? Especially considering, again, this is a classroom of kids that are all gonna return to their own homes after the day is done. Maybe Minthe will go on to adopt Pyros, who knows, but even if she does, that's solving a different problem that Minthe doesn't have. A child is not going to "fix" her, none of her character development or conflicts with other characters in the narrative had anything to do with childrearing.
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Motherhood should not be the default resolution to a woman's character arc.
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MEET: HIROSHI NAMIKAWA
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◈Age: 61
◈Job: Founder and Chief Security Officer of Namikawa Securities
◈Relationship Status: Happily married to Edna Namikawa for 25 years (and counting)! She is his second wife and he wouldn't hesitate to tell anyone that she's the reason that he believes in love. His first marriage was purely done out of obligation. When he left his old life behind, that included the wife. He's sure he'd done her (Wife 1) a favor. He was a horrible husband before but now he's the Ultimate Wife Guy™️ minus the cheating.
◈Family: To his knowledge, he only has the one daughter, Arika. He wouldn't be surprised if he has more children out there somewhere from before. He doubts they would even know where to look if they did exist though and sure, he would be curious to meet them but it's likely for the best it doesn't happen. He's satisfied with the little family he has now anyway. He's fantasized about having more children with Edna more times than he could count but it took work convincing her for the one (and for good reason). He didn't want to push too hard. As far as his immediate family stemming from his parents- His father died when he was a child. He stopped dealing with his siblings so long ago he can't remember the details. As for his mother, he kept her comfortable and even allowed her to see her granddaughter up until she passed away but he never wanted anything to do with her personally.
◈Friends: Aside from his wife and his daughter and perhaps Kenjiro, Hiroshi would say that he doesn't have any true friends. Are there people that call him their friend? Absolutely, and he encourages them to feel that way. The more they trust him, the better. He has buddies. Absolutely. But he wouldn't hesitate to put those buddies' heads on the block if he perceives them as a threat in any way. Just ask Mikki.
◈Hobbies: He is a cigar aficionado. He likes to visit tobacco shops and chat up the staff about their recommendations and the selections so that he can learn more. He's even subscribed to a few magazines about cigars that teaches about the different types and what drinks pair well with them. He enjoys a nice, smooth drink as well. Preferably something that pairs well with whatever cigar he's smoking. During this, he likes to put on a record and listen to some nice tunes or chat up some good company. He also enjoys playing poker, mahjong and shogi.
◈Favorite food: If he can help it, he never misses a meal but breakfast is by far the most important to him. He enjoys a meal that is separated into several individual items. His ideal breakfast? Grilled trout, natto, steamed rice, cabbage and miso- with an option for seconds. If he could have this exact combination every single day for the rest of his life, he'd likely die a happy man. True story: The natto is his favorite part. Sorry, not sorry about his breath afterwards. At least his wife will still kiss him. That's all that matters.
◈Favorite Item: He started a watch collection back in his late 30s. The very first piece was a cheap pocket watch that Edna gave him as her wedding gift to him. Her thanks for him wanting to marry her. She joked him that he could use it to count the seconds until he was ready to rid himself of her. He remembers laughing at the watch with tears in his eyes, so happy that she was giving a gift to thank him for wanting her when really, he should have been thanking her. He gripped it tightly in his hands and bowed deeply saying, "Thank you, sweetheart. Instead, I'll use it to count every second that I get to be a part of your life." 25 years have passed but he will never forget such a beautiful night.
Want to learn a little more about the others?
→ Goro → Arika → Edna → Kenjiro
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humm-bird · 1 year
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So! I'm taking it upon myself to summarize everything that happened to me before Watts showed up.
There's likely a lot of history that I am missing, likely with Gavamont, Ratazom, and Evilwizard, but this is just what I know. Forgive me if I mess up any details.
Before I joined the Council
When I first showed up, I got into a ruckus with the Council. Basically, they were (and still are) enforcing their laws and shit on a place where the gods had repeatedly told them to fuck off. That place is my home dimension.
This incident was specifically about taxes. I got into an—honestly very unfair, given that it took place in my home dimension and practically everyone there wanted the Council to fuck off—court case against the Council's only tax wizard at the time, @greywizard-reporter-jim.
The Council lost, and the god of justice (who really should take it's job more seriously, but I digress) teleported an adult thermonuclear moth into the City of Towers.
Unfortunately, I was stupid and told the Council that the moth was close to detonation and they promptly handled it.
I got Jim fired (sorry bout that) and started hanging out with him. Pretty cool guy, not gonna lie.
We did various things to fuck with the Council, including causing havoc at the... uhhh... I think it's called the Vault of Relics? Something like that. Anyways, all you need to know is that it's where the Council keeps their super powerful magic items. Side note, that was my first test of my Mithril Hydra!
Anyhow, while the bureaucratic fucks were distracted, Jim stole a bunch of documents from their archive.
We kept trying to fuck them over until I realized that I couldn't just defeat them. That's when I made my deal to join them to try to make change via policy rather than force.
Also, pretty soon after Jim started doing crime, his ex, @battlemageserioth, came after him. The story of how they got together is long and complicated, but basically Jim seduced Serioth to get a position on the Council. They were actually kind of in love but they were both complete messes at the time so it didn't really work out.
Working for the Council
I quickly became better acquainted with Serioth, and had a... friendly rivalry, I guess, with him. Basically, he was very devoted to the Council and didn't understand that it was pretty shitty.
He was tracking down Jim, but Jim learned how to combine tax magic an necromancy. Those skeleton mafia debt collectors are quite formidable.
Around this time, @djitch wanted to be a cook for the Council. I put in a good word with her, and she's currently working at a restaurant in the City of Towers that I cannot remember the name of.
Next big event!
The age of gretchen (aka everyone panics about a monster that ended up as a friendly eldrich horror)
Okay. So. @gr3tchn. You might know her from fucking with M.M. recently. She is basically the concept of hunger given physical form.
When she first appeared, I was one of the first people to respond. Uh, actually, before that, some context.
On Raazaa, attacks by monsters are very common. The big ones are by far the most dangerous. Well, except for the mermites. Those things will fuck you up. Anyhow, as a consequence of the preferred method of deterring giant monsters, my first response to seeing one is generally "hit it until it goes away."
I blasted a giant hole in Gretchen (sorry bout that) and she just turned into another mouth. By the by, she could barely talk at the time. The blast also sent a bunch of chunks flying everywhere.
Let's make this quick. Various pieces of Gretchen messed up a lot of stuff and met a lotta people. For example, @effervescent-and-frothy used to be a wizard but is currently Gretchen's... daughter?
@feyosha figured out that Gretchen changes based on context. For example, the bit that mothered Effer became very motherly, the one that visited @wizard-council-librarian became very studious, you get the gist.
By this point, Gretchen was fully sentient and I was just being stupid and rude by trying to fight her.
FeyOSHA "defeated" her by having sex with the giant eldritch horror. Not my kind of thing, but I don't judge.
...
Let's see... the next big event was...
Oh. That motherfucker.
Werill.
Serioth started having weird memory lapses. Nobody knew what was up until he wrote down that it was some sort of bug. He also was suspecting something up with Werill and a certain spot in the Board's chambers.
First, some background on Werill. He's a power-hungry shithead who was on the Board of Archmages, proposed a bunch of greedy bullshit, you get the gist.
Serioth went down a secret passage in the Board's chambers and found a massive underground... cathedral? I don't know. Anyways, Werill was in there, along with a LOT of memetovores. For those who don't know, a memetovore is a weird bug that eats memories.
Werill monolouged for a while before he sicced the little fuckers on Serioth and my guy barely escaped.
I heard all the commotion and went down to investigate. Werill was kinda kicking my ass too but I summoned my mithril hydra and that pretty effectively squashed the memory-eating bastards.
I managed to capture Werill, but I couldn't hope to kill all of the bugs and they had access to the underground portal room so they quickly fucked off to a buncha parts of this multiverse.
Now, cut to Serioth real quick. He and Jim are (I think, I could be wrong) still yearning for each other and Serioth's nearly memoryless subconscious lead him to Jim's old tower.
Something you need to understand is that Serioth was a revenant, clinging onto life via his duty to the Council. Now that the Council has betrayed him, he's fading away.
Anyhow, Jim turned him into a lich so that Serioth could live.
As for Werill, he's got a fucking false hydra in the ruins of the Council portal room, and we need to deal with soon.
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The Last Three Years (Sherlock x Reader) - Chapter 2
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| | Masterlist | |
Chapter 2: Hurts Like Hell
“I loved and I loved and I lost you…and it hurts like hell…” -Fleurie (Hurts Like Hell)
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes (BBC) x Watson!Reader
Word Count: 3.2k+
Warnings: MAJOR Trigger Warning in this chapter involving ideation/harmful-for-self thoughts, drug addiction, and mental health. Depictions of these scenarios also may not be accurate.
Summary: Everyone has their demons. Months after Sherlock had left you, your demons had risen to the surface. With nothing else left to lose, will you cave into the temptations flooding your brain?
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It had been ten months, three weeks, five days, eight hours, and twenty minutes since the phone call. Five more minutes since the impact. Every day since then has haunted you like a nightmare that you could never wake up from. The other night, you thought you had heard his voice in the halls. You had fallen asleep watching old videos of his previous cases. Even if the content was old, you didn’t care. The magic of the media had brought him back to you in even the slightest and you were desperate enough to cling to whatever was left of him. 
You would always do your best to wander around living in your false reality for as long as possible. The voices you heard were him with a client. He was getting bored with the details and would be downstairs later to complain about their stupidity. 
“Honestly,” he’d say. “How could someone be so stupid? The answer is so obvious that even you could solve it.” 
You would then give him a look that would make him falter and backtrack.  
“No, no, no. Everyone’s stupid, don’t take it personally. I just meant that you’d—” Another glare. “Er, that Anderson would be able to solve it with one look.” 
The most difficult part was how as soon as you would allow yourself to get sucked into your little fantasy, you would need to force yourself to realise the whole situation was only in your mind. The warm feeling of having someone to talk to had faded. The flat had become a desolate and dark place once more. Sherlock was dead and you were left alone in your flat. 
~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~
For weeks since his death, Lestrade had done his best to look the other way- to avoid the fact the younger Holmes daughter was alive. You had made him promise to keep her safe from arrest. . .for Sherlock’s sake. Yet as time went on, Elora started not trusting her own actions. You would find her in a random location, with her having no recollection over how or why she was there. As the weeks went on, scabs would appear on her arms and legs out of nowhere. It was around this point you began to be concerned about her flatmate’s safety. She didn’t want to send her away, but she couldn’t bear it if one day she woke up and was too late to stop something far more dangerous. 
Soon after her outburst, Elora had made the decision to leave Baker Street. The day the two of you had finished packing up the last few boxes for Elora’s new life, you felt as though you were staring up at the rooftop again. The world around you sounded tinny and you felt every step become more difficult. 
“You’re sure about this?” you whispered to your friend. It was one of the rare times you could remember seeing any hint of emotion etched into the younger Holmes’ facial features. There wasn’t much that could make her crack, you knew that. Sherlock’s death had hit her the worst of all and while it pained you to see her go, you were proud of her all the same. 
Elora gave you an apologetic glance as she hoisted a moving box into her arms. “I have no other choice,” she replied. “I don’t want to hurt you. Not any more than either of us have been, anyway. There’s just too many memories here.” When you opened your mouth to refute, your friend raised her hand. “It’s not just you. It’s everything. It reminds me too much of my brother and how I failed him.” She reached over to grip her flatmate’s hand. “It won’t be for long. Just until I can feel more confident that what I’m doing is actually me.” 
Tearing up, you pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m going to be waiting to help you move back home whenever you’re ready. You just call me and tell me when. I’ll be there. I promise.” 
“I‘ll be there,” you muttered tiredly to yourself nine months later. You clenched your fists into tight balls. Taking a deep breath, you took in the bitterly cold London air. “It’s been nine months.”
What neither of you had taken into account that day was just how bad Elora’s condition truly was. The longer she was away from the rest of the world, the more she began to break. The hallucinations kept coming. Whenever you would visit her, she would appear more and more distant. She did her best to keep up the interactions, but one day, the calls and text messages suddenly ceased. One night, you received a phone call. The doctors had told you something had triggered Elora, but they couldn’t pinpoint just what it was. Doctor Morrison had recommended that you refrain from visiting your friend’s new flat for a while. 
“If we don’t know what’s causing it,” he said. “We can’t help her. The only lead we have so far is. . .you.”
Months later, the nightmares started to take hold of you too. You found yourself in a cold sweat one night. Your heart raced a thousand miles per second...and you didn’t know why. A few days later, you found yourself waking up screaming a name-- his name. It was almost as if he was taking over your every thought. You saw him in the shops’ magazines and papers. You heard his music over the radio. 
It wasn’t long before it just became noise in your mind -- noise that you couldn’t drown out. You tried to quiet the voices like normal, you really did. You tried music. You slept with the television on max volume. Nothing helped. It wasn’t until you found the bottles in Elora’s room that you could press the mute button on your thoughts. Pop one, take a drink, silence after fifteen minutes. The only problem you started to face was the six hours every night wasn’t enough. 
You needed more. 
Whenever the voices even began to start, you took another pill. Just one more, became two, which turned into three. Each month, the dose got stronger and voices went quiet. You still couldn’t get enough. At this point, you were in far too deep. You didn’t even want to bother getting help. In fact, you relished in the euphoric feeling and the mind-numbing high. It was your escape and you never wanted it to end.
When the pills ran out, you headed to the first therapist you could find. Thanks to your already broken state, it hadn’t taken much for you to get another prescription. The problem was that the dosage would never be enough. You would wake in the middle of the night in pain. It wouldn’t be a normal pain— there wasn’t a part of your body that was physically in pain. Still, your insides twisted and turned as you continued with your restless sleep. What you wouldn’t give for a night of blissful nothingness; to fall asleep. . .and just not wake up. 
He had somehow worked his way into your dreams now. Most nights, it was the same horror as that day: you would be on the ground calling out to him and he’d be gone minutes later. Sometimes your brain took enjoyment in torturing and watching you suffer. It would create this fantasy world where you could finally be happy. Late nights by the fireplace, curled up in each other. Breakfast in the morning without worrying about eyeballs in the teacups. In another world, you had a family of your very own.
You were in the living room of 221B, now home to the both of you. It was a cold December evening and the fireplace crackled in front of you. To anyone else, it would have been a normal scene. But to you, it was something you could only imagined.  
“She’s beautiful,” Sherlock murmured, as he cradled the newborn bundle in his arms.  
“She has your hair and eyes,” you replied.  
“Nonsense.” A frown spread across his face. “Babies have no defining features until six months. She could just as easily have your eyes and hair.” However, a smile threatened to replace his grumpy demeanour as he stared at the bundle— his daughter. “Balance of probability suggests that she-” 
The bundle began to cry and you reached over to pull her into your lap. “Shh,” you soothed. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. We’re right here.” 
Yet, the little babe continued to cry and howl. Anything you attempted to do to soothe her failed. When you looked up to find Sherlock, you watched in horror as his figure vanished in smoke and left you staring at the reflection in the mirror. “Sherlock,” you whispered. “No.” At that moment, your daughter shrieked and cried out. In another attempt to soothe her, you plastered a fake smile and turned your attention back to the precious bundle. What you saw made your heart stop.  
In your arms, squirmed a small version of Jim Moriarty. His face dripped with blood as it morphed into a dark grin. “Tick tock,” he spat out. “The Watsons ran up the clock. The clock struck five, the Watsons cried. They couldn’t save poor Sherlock.” 
“No- no please,” you pleaded. “Just let me have them back. I just want my family back. Please.” 
“No can do,” mini-Moriarty said with a grin. “You know what you have to do to get him back. Why haven’t you done it yet?”  
You bit your lip, eyes squeezing closed as tears spilled out. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just bring them back to me, please.” 
Moriarty rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, not the waterworks. Ordinary people like you are so predictably boring.” He stared at you as the blood dripped off of his face onto the baby blanket. “You know what you have to do. Just do it.” 
“Do it.” A feeling of something sticky ran down your forehead. When you dared press a hand to the area, you gasped in fear as felt a liquid sensation. Pulling your hand back, you saw it was covered in rich, deep red blood.  
A plume of smoke enveloped you and soon you were surrounded by the pale versions of those you loved. John grabbed your arm and started to drag you, Elora joining in soon after. “You want to join us? Do it,” they both spoke in Moriarty’s voice.  
Unsure of what else to do, you bolted until you saw the tall dark outline of a peacoat with the collar popped. “Sherlock,” you pleaded. “Help me. Save me. I need you.” 
The figure standing in front of you didn’t move. 
“Sherlock, please,” you pleaded again. “Help. I can’t do it without you.” 
Slowly, the figure turned around to face you. Sherlock’s blue-green eyes pierced into your soul as he spoke, his tone sharp as knives. “Then die. Just let go and die. There’s obviously nothing here for you anymore. Why live?” 
~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~
The day before, you had made a visit to his grave. Originally, you had planned to visit every other day, but it just became too much for you to handle. You needed to come to terms with what had happened. The only problem you were facing was that you simply couldn’t let go of the fact that he had left you forever.
As you approached the headstone, you noticed another figure standing near it. Not wanting to intrude, you silently crept closer. John was standing by the grave, eyes fixated on the metallic lettering. His fingers rested on the smooth black marble. “I was so alone, and I owe you so much,” you heard him mutter. “You brought my family back to me. Y’gave me a reason to...to want to be a better person.” You heard him sniffle and heave a heavy sigh. “Doing a real bang-up job at that right now, aren’t I? Now they’re both alone dealing with your decision while I swam out to catch my breath.”
John tapped the top of the headstone as a form of reassurance. He was attempting to collect himself, you could tell. “Okay,” he muttered. A moment later, he began to turn and make his way back toward the entrance. You were pressed against a nearby tree in order to avoid being spotted. However, he turned back to the headstone one more time. “No, please, there’s just one more thing, mate, one more thing: one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. And for Elora, and…” his voice broke as he continued. “Don’t. Be. Dead. Would you do that? Just for me, just stop it. Stop this.”
With a curt nod, John made his way back to the car and drove off. You were now the only person around for miles. Truth be told, you were partly grateful for it, as you weren’t sure you could do this without breaking down. However, you did wish there was someone who would try something to stop you. You knelt down by the headstone with suppressed tears. “Hey, Curly,” you tried to sound cheerful. “It’s a year tomorrow. Can you believe it?”
Your gloved fingers gently traced the gold lettering of his name on the headstone. It was cold in the early London morning air. The flowers you had brought the previous weeks had already wilted and the blood red petals were crushed. Using a trembling hand, you brushed the petals away in an attempt to clean his grave. “Always so messy,” you remarked with a dry chuckle. “Even dead you can’t help but make a mess.” You looked down at the headstone with a sad smile. “You’d be pleased to know I haven’t touched your flat. It’s as messy as ever. Don’t know how you ever knew where everything was, but you always did. You always...did.”
You reached into your coat pockets to pull out a handful of pill bottles and a small photograph. “I can’t do it anymore, Sherlock,” you whispered. “It’s just become too much. As much as I bloody hate to admit it, you really screwed me over, Sherlock Holmes. The minute you walked into my life, I should have run the other way and not looked back. But I stayed anyway.” Your head leaned forward against the cold marble and you squeezed your eyes shut again while you laughed. “You bastard. Who would have thought that I would have wanted- that I hoped... with an emotionless basket case. Wait, no. You wouldn’t like that. High-functioning sociopath.
“I just miss you so much. I can’t take waking up in the empty flat anymore. You’re gone. John is gone. Elora is holed up trying to come back. I’m...I’m falling apart. I’m drowning while I’m walking and I can’t breathe. I know I should be able to move on and stay strong. But damn it, Sherlock, I don't want to carry on like everything is fine. It just isn’t.”
You couldn’t afford to hold back the tears anymore. You let them flow and flow until you are hiccuping for air. “I’m so sorry, Sherlock,” you whispered as you buried the items next to the headstone. “I just can’t do it anymore. Not by myself.” Your eyes flickered over to the empty plot nearby. 
You and Elora had made the purchase of the area shortly after the funeral. The two of you had agreed he didn’t deserve to be buried like when he was alive- alone. Upon making the deposit, a deal was made that whoever would pass on first would be the one to take the spot. You just hoped Elora wouldn’t mind losing the race…
~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~
Every step you took felt heavier and heavier the higher up you went. You felt terrible lying to Molly about the real reason you had for stopping by. It was the only way you could guarantee you wouldn’t chicken out. You needed to make sure there was nothing to hold you back. You had already mailed a letter to John and left one on the coffee table for Elora. They would be sad, but they would understand. You were sure of it. 
The door to the rooftop was much heavier than you remembered. Although, last year, you ran primarily off of the adrenaline and grief. Your whole body shook as you peered over the edge down at the ground below. People were making their way through town. Some headed back to work for a late shift, others home to their families. Their perfect little families... 
It was almost ironic you were standing on the very spot he did. Was it dramatic? Of course. However, being around Holmes' for so long would cause a desire for a flair of it in even the most logical of people. Maybe you had hoped this spot would bring you closer to him. Wasn’t there a study that indicated those who died near each other were destined to reunite? That sounded about right. Or maybe...maybe it was just sentiment.
He always mocked you for the attachment you had to sentiment. “A chemical defect,” he would call it. It could never be used to one’s advantage— only their downfall. You gave a dry chuckle to the memory. How fitting.  
“You have given me something that I can't live without, Sherlock,” you whispered after taking a deep breath. “I can’t ever forgive you for this, but hopefully I’ll get to see you again.” You took a step up onto the ledge and closed your eyes. Without opening them, you lifted your mobile to your ear. 
“You’ve reached the personal number of Sherlock Holmes,” his deep voice worked its way into your ear. “List the details of your case and I’ll contact you at my earliest convenience...or not.” 
The sound of a beep caused you to take a shaky breath, jarring you from a fantasy world your brain had escaped to for a moment. “I suppose it’s only fair for me to do this,” you whispered into the microphone. “It’s what...people do, right? Leave a note?” A sad chuckle was let out at the last part. “That’s how you did it. I know you’ll never hear this and that’s fine. I just...I just needed to hear your voice one last time.
“I’m so sorry, Sherlock, but you can’t convince me otherwise of your actions. You may have been an arrogant arsehole, but you weren’t a monster. There was no way you could have created Moriarty for shits and giggles. I saw how he affected you. No man could hold up that act forever, especially not you. You may have been a jerk, but you cared. About Elora, John...hopefully me?” You brushed away a few tears. “I know there’s only a few seconds left on the machine, so I’ll make it quick.” Tears began to trickle down your face. “I love you, Sherlock Holmes. I believe in you, even if the rest of the world doesn’t.
“Goodbye, love,” your voice dropped down to a whisper as you hung up the phone. You cradled it in your hands for a few moments before pressing it against your heart. This was the best for all of them. All you needed to do was put your arms out and just...fall. In a matter of minutes, you would be letting gravity take its hold on your already heavy heart and free you spirit. It would all be over and you could finally be free.
You clenched the phone in your fist and took a deep breath. One foot at a time, you made your way a bit further along the ledge. You leaned a bit forward. . .
. . .a little bit more. . . 
Just one more lean and you would finally be free. As you lifted your foot over the edge, the phone in your hand began to vibrate. 
It was a call from an unknown number.
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Author’s Note: Woww, what a cliffhanger, huh?! If I’m being entirely honest here, the end of this chapter hurt like hell to write (bad pun I know lol). I know it may seem stereotypical tale for a Sherlock S/O to have during the Reichenbach hiatus, but I assure you there are more reasons behind this mental state than just Sherlock (mainly relating to the upcoming backstory). On another note, Moriarty is probably one of my favorite characters to write for just because his dialogue is so much fun to write…you never know what’ll come out of that mouth of his!
As usual, if you liked the chapter, make sure to leave a like, comment, and a cheeky reblog. Not only will it help me out with sharing the story, but it also lets me know what content from me you enjoy! In the meantime, leave your theories on who the mystery number is and I'll see you next week! :D
SH Taglist: @ohchoices, @severuined
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My mom just beat the shit out of me all because I called her out on her ignorance (racism/homophobic language) and also because of me telling her that she’s hurt me and traumatized me throughout the years but because I’ve blocked out a lot of it and can’t remember specific details she is just accusing me of overreacting. She also told me she doesn’t have a daughter anymore and that I’m dead to her and also accused me of lying about the most traumatic experience of my life (getting kidnapped and taken 3 hours away after she kicked me out) she said because he didn’t rape me that it must’ve not happened! she also threatened to call the cops on ME for screaming and crying during her verbal and physical abuse. And of course I have nowhere to go and no one to talk to so I’m stuck her oh and she tried locking my cat out of her room where the litter box is. I told her she doesn’t have to care about me but don’t take it out on our cat. I hate her so much and I’m so sick of being made to feel like a bad person because of all her problems and her ignorance and her acting like cuz she had a toxic mother and a fucked up childhood that it somehow justifies her to act however she wants and act like my feelings are lesser than and that I need to “get off the pity pot” and that I need to start taking charge of my life lol but I need transportation (can’t afford Uber and our car is broken, not that I can drive anyway and the only free transportation I qualify for is to doctors appointments) I applied to this school but it’s over an hour away, my anxiety and depression makes getting a job almost impossible, until I ever get a job I’m broke and screwed so I literally need to fucking die
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killingthecringe · 9 months
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This is for the ask game you reblogged a couple days ago. I found it in my likes a minute ago and remembered I'd wanted to ask lol. So 11 and 21?
NGL I entirely forgot about this until you mentioned it.
I have like 80 million WIPs, but only a few with playlists. So for the purposes of ease: the wip in question is my SATBK au.
I did post a very early draft of this in chapters 23 and 30 of This fic, but that's all but scrapped now and will need to be entirely redone
Plot Summary: When a great evil almost kills Galahad, Guineveie takes a blow to defend him. Ever thankful for saving his brother's life, Lancelot offers his fellow knight protection from the enraged fey. Unfortunately, protection comes at the cost of her freedom, and in order to uphold his fey-bound promise, Lancelot and Guinevere are to be wed. All of which would be made much easier if they didn't hate each other.
What scene are you most hyped for this chapter/fic?
Oh god there are so many. The wedding - the interplay of emotions, of a horrible mix of contempt and gratitude and the act they have to put on for the guests, all while hating each other's guts.
Also there's a scene where they return to her hometown to tell her family they got married, and he gets VERY jealous of all of her former suitors still showering her with affection.
The oh moments too, where they realize they actually DO kinda like each other. The thick tension between them, they way they have to ask about courting one's own spouse, failed attempts on both ends, it's gonna be great.
Share 3 songs that would belong on a playlist for this chapter/fic.
For Guineverie's hometown celebrating her return. Guin is a dancer, Lance is not. She doesnt call him onto the dancefloor but he is pushed and they end up dancing anyways (he's kinda bad at it).
For the wedding. This is the song i used as inspo when blocking out Guin's walk up the aisle. It has just the right notes of melancholy, Happy at the beginning where I Imagine Lance is staring in awe at how lovely Guin looks. She's doing much the same, which turns into this more sombre tune closer to the end where they remember the details of their situation.
Brief warning for this one: it's a wee bit raunchy. The whole thing is a dirty song - but the line I want to draw attention to is "For tis' naught but bad luck/ To fuck with a puck". This is also probably in the party scene - One of Guin's former suitors puts on a bit of a show for everyone, and this or soemthing like it is in his setlist. But "puck" I imagine is a bit of a derogatory term for Fey and Fey Folk. Galahand and Lance are both adopted sons of Nimue, and as such are considered partially Fey. They arent very popular for this reason and have heard this word tossed about a lot, espcially as children. No one expects Guin to clock the guy across the face and yell at him about it, going as far as to challenge the rest of the party-goers in case any of them want to try fighting her for the issue
(Lance falls a lil bit in love with her. But he doesn't figure that out until much later.)
Thanks for the ask!
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vvanessaives · 2 years
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i might treat myself a bit rn and do smth i never do: talk about my original stories. under the cut
in today’s picrew post i mentioned i have a slow burn wlw vampire romance story and idk. just feel like elaborating. we are in a kind of fantasy medieval setting, still unsure tbh becasue i like the idea of making it more gothic, thinking but anyways
amelia magdalena teodora von rosencort (three names bc she’s hot) is the last vampire of her super ancient vampire clan that perished accidentally by her own hands causing amelia to remain all alone. the slaughter of her family rests heavy over her mind (long story short she tried to stop them from doing smth “bad” but truth is her family was trying to help her, won’t go too much into detail about this for now) and she decided to inflict upon herself a infinite lonely confinement in the halls of her super cool castle but still, whats a super cool castle to someone that has to live alone in it for her whole never ending life. the only company she has is a spirit-like entity that mostly does all her housework, i guess they are like a butler in the castle and they are the only “person” that speaks sometimes with amelia. her biggest passion is strolling around her beautiful garden at night. there’s a always-present melancholy about her.
juliana is a commoner, third daughter among 5 siblings (all daughters, what a hit) and they were left orphans at young age. she is the most enterprising out of all her sisters and she’s jumping from one job to the other to try and bring coin to the family, she did a lot of different things from bodyguard for some kind of rich stupid lord to baker. she’s headstrong, brave, doesn’t accept shit from anyone and sometimes her older sisters need to come pick her up before she does smth stupid. but she also has a gentle heart, ready to help anyone in need. in town everyone loves her. she suddenly lands a new job as a gardner for a super cool castle hiding in the forest not so far from her little town.
the job: twice every week, juliana goes to this castle but has no memory of it each time. amelia specifically brews some kind of concoction that makes juliana’s last memories of the day vanish so she doesn’t remember of being in the castle at all. amelia does this to...keep some kind of secrecy. it’s funny bc every time she sends her away she needs to call her back to work again, sends a letter saying she needs someone for her garden and each time juliana is like oh! new job (her sisters are like ??????). ofc at some point amelia starts to enjoy juliana’s company, talks with her and so on and each time she gets a bit more sad that she will have to wipe away her memory. it’s a whole story of first meetings that aren’t first meetings UNTIL. until something happens :)))
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hekaates · 11 months
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open letter to ems (part ii) — @officialjimmybuffet
Hey bitch. Happy birthday
First time it’s just a letter, second it’s a pattern, how long until it counts as tradition?
Maybe it’s weird but I started to write this letter on December 13th, 2022. 179 days until your birthday but I felt the need to start writing this, felt the need to put my sentiments into words.
Yesterday I sent you 18 audios, several minutes each of course, explaining you in deep detail the plot of the first Avatar movie. I watched it alone after my mom went to sleep and to be frank Im kind of glad she did or else she’ll catch me crying over the scenery of a planet that doesn’t exist, from a movie that I’m pretty sure doesn’t pass the Belchdel test (update: it does not, everything is about Jake Sully and his terrible habits). It’s sitting in the bathroom floor all alone, waiting for people to stop screaming at each other that makes me realize how much I needed you in my life, how much I need, and will need someone who understands and compliments (as in complementary) me as well as you do. I like Avatar because I’m insane, but also because I see someone so lost and so insane in their own world they have to go literally to another planet to find a home, because somehow they do and I think, fuck maybe I could to. Looking back at it, the fact Jakes best friend is a short haired ginger scientist (healthcare science is a science right?) might make it even more close to home. (I hope in the end of this story, I don’t turn blue and you die and come back reincarnated as my daughter, but if you do it’d be hilarious and pretty on brand for us).
Everytime I remember you exist I am no longer alone. One time we were talking about the saints (this phrase in itself explains our relationship better than any other thing I can say here) and we said: I’d pick your saint if you pick mine. I remember the first time I wrote it, I looked at the screen, I looked at me and I looked at you (the only way I can, deep inside my mind) and I realize that with no other person this sentiment would make sense, no other person could I send a message at 22h explaining the in-depth history of Brazilian reality shows and make it so that I’m not insane or annoying or terrible, no other person would I search the deep webs of Wikipedia to find out what Saint was killed on June 10 (ps. It’s Saint Olivia, that’s my sisters name).
Saint Emma is the keeper of pharmacy, Saint Luisa the keeper of grief, somewhere along the lines God made it so we can meet and this would make a little bit too much sense.
I want to thank you for always holding my hand, even if have never touched, even if we never do. Times passed, I forget to write and now your birthday is in 4 days and now it is in 2 days and I find myself plagued by a loneliness only you can fill (I think this is the gayest sentence I’ve ever wrote and that’s saying something). Right now I look at the sun and it’s 4pm here so it means that in the other side of the world it’s 3pm and you are looking at the same sun, as the sunlight burns the right side of my face I can’t help but wonder if right now, in the other side of the hemisphere, it burns the left side of your face, that in the sunlight our faces meet and become one (again, really going for the gayness vibe rn).
The only future I am content with is the one I have you by my side, it’s the one I can call you to spend christmas with my family be it next to a British young star celebrity or not (but like if god wants him to spend several christmases with me then like I can’t say no right that’s on God not me right anyways I’m getting of track-) In the good ending it’s Christmas afternoon and I’m sitting by the pool showing you how to open an earl fruit or a persimmon while my siblings play with the speaker. In the good ending we’re in a club in New Jersey and I have no idea how to order a drink, in the good ending, when the movie is about to be done I grab your hand and say “hey.”
So, yeah.
Hey.
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orlissa · 1 year
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I couldn’t fall asleep last night, so I lay in bed, looking at my phone at 3:30am, listening to my mother snore like a freight train like 10 feet from me--because in whole my life I have been sleeping in the same room as my parents whenever I’m at home, because we always have had only one proper room, and my mother has always snored like a freight train, so is it surprising that snoring is one of my trigger sounds?--, and I felt my hatred for my aunt flare up again.
Because, you see, she pretty much hated my mother out of her inheritance.
I’ve talked about it here before, so just a recap: my aunt is my mom’s former high school classmate and “friend”, who then married her older brother, my uncle, pretty much out of high school. My aunt, now my uncle’s widow, is a petty, spiteful--looking for a not too offensive term here--who has pretty much hated me in me whole life simply because I existed the way I exist. I have some colorful stories about her, especially around now, Christmastime, when I remember all the Dursley-like gifts she emotionally terrorized me during the last years we were still on speaking terms with her.
But anyway: the inheritance.
So, as I’ve already said, my aunt married my uncle soon after she finished high school. They moved into an apartment we call a 1,5 roomer here (one big and one small room that fits a bed and not much else), where they raised their first daughter born in the mid-late 70′s. In the meantime, my mother, being single and disabled, stayed with her parents in her childhood home, a 3 bedroom apartment. 
Then in the mid-80′s my aunt had her second daughter (that’s a story in itself, apparently), and soon realized that their apartment was not fit for a family of four, but they didn’t really have money for a bigger one, so she came up with an idea: she and her husband convinced my grandmaprents and my mom to sell both of their apartments, and buy a house in the up-and-coming little town a 10 minute drive form the city they had lived in. And so they did that: they bought one half of a semi-detached house, five bedrooms on two levels, huge yard, another building for storage and an extra kitchen to use in the summer.
They lived there for a couple of years, not so harmoniously, because my aunt was a bitch who soon realized that it was not so good to live with her in-laws, so she passive-agressively made sure they didn’t feel welcome. I don’t know many details, but my mother has told me about the crippling anxiety she felt whenever it was nearing the time when my aunt came back from work/bringing her younger daughter home.
Then in 1990 my mom met my dad, and they decided to get married after a couple of months, and my dad moved in with my mom, and the situation became unbearable--it soon became apparent that they couldn’t keep living like that. (Btw, for a bith my aunt planned to have my parents move into the other building on the property, which, by the way, had no bathroom.) So my parents quickly looked for another place to move into, and with the help of the local council they bought this house I was born into. And like they day before moving, my grandparents decided to come with them--the pretense was that my parents, two disabled people, would need help, but really, they just didn’t want to keep living with my aunt. Who was so hateful at this point that my mother--who put her own money into the 5 bedroom house, and who was entitled to basically quarter of it after my grandparents’ death--, and my grandparents--who sold their own apartment for it--just gave up their share of the house so that they could move out quicker and without a fuss. (Note: I never knew my grandpa, he died two months before I was born, but my grandmother lived with us, sleeping in an alcove off the kitchen, until her death when I was 23.)
So my aunt, who I really hope is going to get what she deserves, got to live in a nice, comfortable home, while my parents and I are stuck... here
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vivaciousoceans · 2 years
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i think he died for me
Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti & Barbara Howard
Rating: T+
Warning (s): Minor character death
Word Count: 1,043
Genre: Hurt / Comfort, Angst
It’s only a few weeks into the school year when Barbara gets the call. Gerald had a heart attack. Doctors expect him to make full recovery, and he does, until he doesn’t. Barbara plans the funeral rather quickly, but that’s just how she is. She tackles problems head on, there’s no use in lagging along, she’ll grieve eventually. She’s very meticulous in her planning, each detail is carefully pulled from Gerald’s life. Gardenias fill the room, they were his favorite. Barbara’s bridal bouquet was filled with them. ‘All In His Plan’, his favorite hymn, is sung by the choir, which is led by Barbara of course. Nothing is out of place, but it doesn’t feel sterile. It feels more like a celebration than a funeral, and Barbara prays that it’s what Gerald would’ve wanted. 
The reception is substantially smaller than the service. Barbara wants something intimate, family only, and that includes her Abbott Elementary family. Melissa provides all the food for the reception, and they have it at Barbara’s home. “You know you didn’t have to do all this, right?” Barbara asks Melissa once they’re alone in the kitchen. Melissa is finishing up the last of the refreshments.
“Nonsense.” Melissa waves her off, “You know I stress cook anyways. This way the food won’t be going to waste.” She gives Barbara her classic Schemmenti smile, the one that can light up a pitch black room, and for a moment Barbara feels at ease. It’s almost immediately replaced by a pang of guilt, once she remembers where she is. This is not the time for those feelings, this is not the time to look at Melissa like she hangs the moon. ‘ My husband is dead, for christsake.’ She admonishes herself. 
“Mom?” A hoarse voice calls out, pulling Barbara from her thoughts. “Aunt Kathy wants to go through some pictures of dad…” Taylor trails off, and Barbara's heart shatters for her daughter. She turns and gives Melissa a half smile before joining her daughter. 
They’re heading towards the foyer, where everyone has congregated, when Taylor stops moving. She opens her mouth and then closes it, as if she’s trying to say something she’s not quite sure how to word. It’s in Barbara’s blood to nurture, she tucks a strand of Taylor’s hair behind her ear, and cradles her face.
Taylor leans into her mothers’ touch, closing her eyes, and just basking in the comfort. ‘That’s Saint Barbara Howard’ , she thinks bitterly. Always taking care of others, neglecting her own needs, always giving when she had nothing left. Taylor resents her for it sometimes, but it’s almost admirable. To love so much that you’ll let it destroy you. To be that selfless, to deny yourself a chance at true love. Yeah, it’s admirable, but it’s incredibly depressing as well.
Taylor doesn’t even know what she’s going to say until she says it. “I see the way she looks at you…” Barbara tries to interrupt, but Taylor stops her. “And I see the way you look at her.” 
Barbara’s stomach drops, her pulse quickens, and her blood runs cold. She wasn’t expecting Taylor's confession, she doesn’t even know how to respond. She knows how she should respond, she should deny it, she should accuse Taylor of being overwhelmed with grief, but she can’t. She’s being confronted with her worst fears, and all she can do is stare into her daughters’ eyes.
Taylor slips her hands into her mothers’, and she smiles as brightly as she can muster, “It’s okay.” She assures her mother, “You did right by daddy, and he would want you to be happy.”
“It’s barely been a month, it’s, it’s too soon.” Barbara stammers, shaking her head as if she couldn’t even fathom the thought of being with Melissa. She can, she has. 
“What’s the difference between now and three years from now? Are you going to suddenly love daddy any less? Why waste more time?” Taylor asks, and in that moment she reminds Barbara so much of her father it hurts. Taylor gives her mothers’ hand a tight squeeze before letting go and turning away, leaving Barbara to think about everything she said. She’s never going to stop loving Gerald, like she’s never stopped loving Melissa. ‘Why waste more time?’ That question rings over and over in her head, like a bell chiming. It drives her crazy until she turns on her heel and marches back into her kitchen.
“Jeez, is everyone that impatient? Tell em’ it’ll be done in a minute, i’m an artist here.” Melissa jokes, not even looking up, but somehow sensing Barbara’s return to the kitchen. They’d always been in sync like that. If she had looked up she'd see the determination in Barbara’s eye, the same determination that Barbara has when she has a student falling behind, the determination that Melissa had grown to love. It’s not until Barbara is virtually on top of her that she looks up, and when she does, when she sees that look, she freezes. 
Time freezes, everything freezes except Barbara, and that determination. She melts when she feels Barbara’s lips on hers, and suddenly the world around her is moving faster than she can process. It’s everything and nothing like Melissa expected. Barbara’s lips are soft and plum, she tastes a little like nutmeg - or maybe cinnamon. Melissa can’t be sure, but it’s earthy and it stings a little bit. She decides that she doesn’t really care, she needs more, so she deepens the kiss. Their tongues aren’t vying for dominance like they do in her dreams. They’re dancing, slow, gentle, precise, like they’re waltzing around a ballroom. 
When they separate, Melissa isn’t quite sure what’s happening, she isn’t quite sure about anything. She’s wanted this for as long as she could remember and now that it’s happening, she’s speechless. Apparently Barbara is too, because she doesn’t say anything, she just lays her forehead against Melissa’s.  Neither of them are sure how long they stay in that position, just trying to feel connected to one another, but they know they have to separate, considering where they are. This is not the time or the place, but it feels like the only time they have. ‘Death will do that to you,’ Melissa thinks.
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choppedupnotkilled · 2 months
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Now that I've given up on every single post on my blog being Little Shop related do y'all wanna hear some hopefully-non-doxing stories?
My best friend in middle school was this guy who was in a science club with me. We both loved animals and wanted to study them as adults and he seemed pretty chill in spite of a troubled past that I won't detail partially for privacy and partially because I barely remember what it was now that it's been several years. To his credit he only asked me out once (a few days after we met) (he was apparently dared by his friends) and was pretty respectful about having a crush on me by the standards of middle schoolers.
On my birthday he ordered some soup with his food and didn't touch it, which is what my sperm donor is most mad at him for to this day despite some of the other stuff he did being obviously much worse (more on that later)
We would facetime a lot, to the point that I made up some stuff about how my parents wouldn't let me go on Facetime while they weren't in the house or after 8 pm, to the point that we once went on a call so long that my not very old at the time IPad went from 100% charged to nearly 0 to 100 again and near the end I was just looking up random genera on Wikipedia and asking him which species he liked most in it because my mom was busy working with someone who was fixing something in the house and couldn't rescue me. Once he apparently got an "ADHD attack" (which I now know is not a thing) and was super hyperactive for a while while I was on Facetime with him and I had to talk him down from egging his house to egging a tree while just generally looking out for him
He also flipped the camera while shaking a bottle of soda once to prank/trick me into thinking he was going to show me him jerking off and was super proud of himself for pulling it off. And told me that he was turned on by me using my dog as a pillow once.
One time on a Facetime call he mentioned that his fish was sick and would need to be put down. I, not knowing as much about the keeping of fish as him and also being 14, mostly believed that he was doing things the way they were supposed to be done when he put this fucking fish directly on the floor of his room without a towel or anything and chopped off its head with a machete. It took two swings. I can vividly see this in my head. I now know that he was probably trying to impress me by doing this and that that is not the accepted protocol for putting a fish down. I have no idea why he thought this would impress me considering that we became friends because we both love animals and I didn't approve of his friends setting animals on fire. Which he told me about in a disparaging way. After I told another friend about this years later he became known as Machete Fish Boy between the two of us.
He also kept a fully wild raccoon in a cage in the bathroom alongside his room for... I don't remember exactly how long but it was at least a week until his grandparents made him get rid of it. He was planning on taming it.
Anyway we lost contact because he ghosted me presumably for going too long without agreeing to date him, I referred to him as Dead to Us for a while after that but obviously I'm over it now
I saw him while I was volunteering at the local zoo the summer before last and he seemed totally normal and well adjusted, he was there with a few friends as well
About a month after that my mom randomly decided to look him up for old times sake and we found out that he had been arrested for trying to kill someone with a chainsaw. Apparently she and her fiance had taken him into their home and eventually kicked him out for reasons I don't know and he rammed his truck into their trailer and threatened her with the chainsaw for "taking her daughter away from him" (I think he had dated her daughter)
There were kids in the trailer
He also has charges of domestic assault (might have been some other specific legal label, it was along those lines though) and more recently was arrested for getting into a fight at a traffic stop
Because they let him out of jail so soon after that for some reason
Me and my friend call him Chainsaw Person Man now
I'm probably gonna be interviewed in a documentary about him at some point so... looking forward to that lmao
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briamichellewrites · 1 year
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134
Bradley found himself at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. He was beating himself up and was wanting to relapse. Instead, he was in a church sanctuary with a notebook and a pencil. He had a million thoughts he needed to get out and he was early, so he started writing. Elliot. He wanted to apologize to her on bended knee, but he didn’t know if she would listen to what he had to say. Or believe him, for that matter. Why should she? He lied to her already.
He wrote something before crossing it out and trying again. Bradley, get your shit together. Just say what’s in your heart. He put his face in his hands and started crying quietly. Until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw a guy standing beside him. Was he waiting for the meeting? Yeah, he was. But, he was early. Did he want to start talking anyway? Yeah.
He talked about his girlfriend, Elliot who was pregnant with his baby. She found out he had cheated on her and had a secret two-year-old daughter. He owed back child support and was faced with jail time for trying to leave the state. Why was he crying? Because he was so angry with himself for being selfish. He wiped his tears, though he wasn’t ashamed of crying. I’m also a recovering alcoholic and drug addict. That was why he was there.
How far along was his girlfriend? She was five weeks pregnant. They just found out. As they continued talking, he began to feel better. The pastor was someone who could offer an unbiased perspective. He encouraged him to pay back his child support debt. Then, he could work on repairing the relationship with his girlfriend. Even if it was for the sake of his unborn child.
Did he have the means to pay? Yeah, he did and he knew he should. As everyone started coming in, he thanked the pastor. Was he staying for the meeting? No, he was going to right some wrongs. He thanked him for letting him talk. Of course. If he needed help, he would always be welcome. Thank you. He appreciated it. While walking out, he heard the pastor greeting everyone. He went to the courthouse to inquire about what he needed to do to pay back child support.
The next day, he found out he was being accused of grooming Elliot. No, it wasn’t true. He met her when she was eighteen. Did he have proof? Yeah, Leo. He was at the party when they met. Brad got his phone and called him just to make sure he was telling the truth. Leo couldn’t remember everything from that party, but he did remember him asking him about her.
“I told him who she was and that she is your daughter.”
“When was that?”
“About a year ago. Yeah, because we talked about her finally being legal. Why are you asking?”
“It’s a long story I’ll tell you about another time. Thanks.”
“Not a problem. Say hi to Ellie for me.”
So, he told one lie and now he couldn’t trust him? One big lie and no, he couldn’t. Because of that, Bradley announced their friendship was officially over! He then turned around and walked out of the house. Mike was not happy that he was interrogating him. There was being protective and then there was being a jerk. He nodded and offered to apologize to him, though it was probably too late.
The band heard all about the drama between Bradley and Elliot on Monday. She took him back for all five minutes before coming to her senses. That led to them arguing in her driveway, and they eventually ended up laughing. It was crazy! So, what happened? Did she go back to him? As far as he knows, they were going to talk about either co-parenting or giving him custody. He couldn’t leave the state until he paid his child support debt.
He had a court date for that. Phoenix was so confused, so he asked him to start at the beginning. Joe was also very confused. Mike went back and explained everything in detail. Neither he nor Brad wanted her to take him back. Brad couldn’t even trust him anymore. But, they were letting her decide what she wanted to do because she was an adult. They could only give their opinions.
He didn’t want to tell them that they were dating quite yet, even though he knew they would support him. Brad was a private person, who didn’t want the whole world to know his business. They were both waiting for three months to see if they would continue with their relationship or break up. Brad was busy fighting Anna for custody of Shiloh. He tried not to get involved, outside of supporting both of them. They both relied on him because he could tell them what they needed to hear.
He could also do it in a way that was beneficial to them. Brad was learning that and he respected that about him. He wasn’t going to enable him or sugarcoat anything. He had a softness to him, an ability to see the whole picture, and he was a problem solver. Though, he did have moments of depression, where he just needed to be left alone with his computer and musical equipment.
When Elliot visited them later, she was able to give her side of the story. She had just returned from a doctor’s appointment. It was still too early to see her baby on an ultrasound. That would happen in a couple of weeks. Joe asked her what she said to Bradley. She told him he was fired from being her boyfriend.
“He was like, ‘Fuck you! I didn’t want this job anyway! You don’t even pay me!’ That’s when I just lost it! Jon was completely confused about what the hell was going on!”
“There are three people in the world who will tell you the truth: toddlers, drunks, and Ellie when she’s pissed off”, Phoenix joked.
They laughed. She thought her neighbors were going to call the police on them. Thankfully, they didn’t. How was she doing? She was enjoying herself because she didn’t have morning sickness yet. The only symptom she was experiencing was getting tired in the afternoons. She was supposed to keep up with exercise, even if it was just walking the dogs. Which, she still didn’t have. Mike was working on getting them back to her. He thanked her for reminding him.
Her therapist recommended she held off on going to college, especially after having a baby because she would be under a lot of stress already. They agreed. College could be very stressful, especially with classes, homework, exams, and finals. She had all the time in the world to experience college. What was she going to do instead? She didn’t know, though she would talk to her father about it.
Sitting at home just got her in trouble because she got bored. Staying busy was great for her mental health because it kept her distracted. Maybe she could sweet-talk Matt or George into letting her help out the director on one of their movies. Wasn’t she angry with them? She was but then she went to rehab. Rob told her she was one of the most confusing people he had ever met. They laughed as she pretended to strangle him.
“It’s called BPD. Ten out of ten would not recommend it!”
“And alcoholism, ADHD, anxiety, and PTSD with childhood trauma”, Chester finished for her.
“Oh, my god. I’m going home to sleep.”
They laughed as they said goodbye to her. She did look tired, so they hoped she would make it home before she fell asleep. An hour later, Mike got a text confirming she had made it home safely. He thanked her for letting him know before telling the band. What would they do without Ellie? She had been a part of the band since the beginning. As annoying as she was, they couldn’t imagine life without her.
@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia @boricuacherry-blog
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lilacponds · 1 year
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YALL WANNA KNOW SOME FUN FAMILY STUFF? OKAY LETS GO
so, i have an older brother. he's 5 years older than me. he's also a total fucking manbaby but thats not today's discussion. we have different fathers, my parents met after my brother was already born. (his bio dad is a piece of shit that bailed the moment he found out my mom was pregnant or something.)
that clear? okay? okay. SO
my dad's DAD. him and my dad have a HORRIBLE relationship. idk the details of it but my dad really doesn't like him and i'm lead to believe he was a shitty father. ANYWAYS, that is a small part of the reason why i NEVER had a relationship with him.
wanna know the BIG part of the reason?
apparently he wanted to meet ME, but he could not care less for my BROTHER ! (because my dad isn't his bio dad or whatever probably. i never heard that directly but, like, what else.) which my mom did NOT like at all! so she set the hard boundary of either he gives a shit about both children or he doesn't get to see any of them.
now, i'm aware that he's a shitty person (for more than one reason) and that he was a shitty father to my dad, so i do NOT mourn the loss of the relationship i never had with him or whatever, but it does however make me a little salty that my mom decided i was to not have any relationship with my grandfather at all because he did not care for my brother. i would like to note here that the only grandparent i've ever had was my mother's mom, who out of the 4 of us cousins (me and my brother, and my two cousins who are siblings) ALWAYS favored my brother (because he's the eldest). no, like, literally. my cousins lived with her when she was alive, but me and my brother would visit like almost every weekend, which was fun for about the 5 minutes i got where i wasn't bullied or abandoned. but in the morning my grandma ALWAYS brought my brother out to have breakfast just the two of them out in the town. she never brought anyone else, least of all me, just him. i'm sure she loved us ! but my brother has always been the baby and the favorite, both with my mom and my grandma. so that hurt like a motherfucker growing up ! (i do have a couple of good memories with her. she didn't completely ignore me. she just favored him.) anyways point is the only grandparent i've ever had was one grandmother who had a clear favorite. so, i dunno, having a grandpa that i could actually invite for grandparent day in elementary school would've been rad, maybe.
do you wanna know my FAVORITE memory of my dad's dad ??? (yes, i staunchly refuse to call him my grandfather. he's just some dude to me) yes you do, because that's the reason i'm making this post in the first place.
SO i have this cousin! she's way younger than me, and my uncle's daughter on my DAD's side !!! and i remember going to a birthday party of hers when i was a kid, maybe like 7 or so, fuck if i know, i was old enough that i remember it is the point. and i grew up incredibly anxious, but eventually at that party i found another little girl to play ball with! (literally just tossing the ball to each other) and i was just vibing and playing, until this old man comes up to me. and he goes "hi!" and i look at him for like a second (because remember, i was playing ball with another girl, so i had to look at the ball to know where to toss it and to avoid it smacking me in my face) and i go "...hi." he just looks at me for a moment and then he goes, "do you know who i am?" now, this was about the first time i've held a conversation with this man! BUT, somehow i had (still have) this clear memory of seeing this man at, like, a laundromat with my dad at some point when i was even smaller, and somehow i just Remember? and i go "yeah, you're my dad's dad." i shit you not i said it like that i have never referred to him as my grandpa even as a child to his face i love baby me. and he goes "yeah i am!" and i go "...ok" and i keep playing ball! and he just... stands there for a second before awkwardly shuffles off.
NOW, this is hilarious to me and a core fucking memory, but what i love to add to this is, MY DAD HAD A HELL OF A TIME TELLING ME AND MY MOM HOW THIS INTERACTION CAME TO BE. Apparently they had been talking, and he was like "can i go tell her i'm her grandpa?" and my dad, knowing me and knowing how he raised me, he was DOWN, and he went "sure go for it, she's not gonna care". and it must've been SO SATISFYING to be him and see this happen and then see the look on his fucking dad's face afterwards.
WANNA KNOW ANOTHER FUNNY THING?
so every few years or something i reconnect with that very cousin (mentally ill + age gap makes it hard for me to actually reach out, plus my mom really dislikes my uncle for Reasons), and i was just over at her place one day, and then out of nowhere WHO VISITS IF NOT MR. FUCKER HIMSELF? my cousin and uncle did give me a heads up about his arrival and i was like "i dont mind, i dont care" because i genuinely couldn't give two shits, but he had NO CLUE i'd be there. and lookie look, he actually recognizes me! and he jokes to my uncle, "she doesn't remember who i am." but like, so confidently.
and i look him straight in the eyes. emotionless.
and i go,
"i know who you are. you're my dad's dad."
he did not know how to answer that. me and my cousin proceeded to go to the yard to continue hanging out.
its so small and so petty but god i fucking loved the look on his face.
OH by the way wanna know one of the reasons i know he's a shitbag garbage of human being?
so my dad has several brothers. im not actually close with any of them, the one i've seen the most is the one i already mentioned. a few years ago, one of them died. he had cancer, it wasn't out of the blue, but it happened. i had never even met the guy so it didn't really affect me personally, but my dad (and his brothers) (understandably) were broken. the funeral wasn't in our city, so he traveled there by himself. i kinda wished i could've gone with him just to support him, but i couldn't. but anyways.
my dad and uncles talk about the will. i dont know the specifics of it, but there was like an apartment involved i believe, and they decided to legally leave everything to one specific brother to handle for everyone or something. that, though, meant that the people included in the will had to go and legally sign away their rights. and wouldn't you know it, as my dad's next of kin*, i had to go as well. because if my dad gave up the rights, they would pass over to me or something. idk. i just knew i had to go sign something. i dont know the details nor the law. this was very soon after the funeral. a couple of uncles were there.
as well as Mr. Fucker himself (along with his wife, not the biological mother of any of my uncles).
now i dont remember the exact wording, i dont think. but when talking about the will and his death, even with the notary or lawyer or whatever present (so not even the dignity of privacy), he makes a fucking joke. about the death of an uncle and brother and his son.
i shit you not the silence that fell in the room, with only his stupid little self-satisfied laughter, as everyone is in shock staring at him.
i think he burnt all his bridge a long, long time ago - but if he had any hopes of reconnecting with any of his family, he torched all of the land surrounding that bridge too.
(also less heinous. i had never met his wife. she is no one to me. and she still tried to ask me about my school, and when i mentioned i dropped out of high school, she tried to pull the 'oh but youre so smart you were doing so well!' card. i was trying to be polite up until then. i told her 'you dont know me. leave me alone.' i think i felt the silent pride of my dad and both my uncles on me at that moment.)
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*note about being my dad's next of kin: HEEEEEEEEELLLL YYYYYEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
no i dont have anything to inherit or anything. he dont got shit to put on a will. but my dad is a good father. a great one, even. no, he's not perfect, he's grumpy and gruff and he has a shitty sense of humor that just irks people, i get mad at him a lot and we get into shouting matches sometimes and he has a tendency to be stubborn and to raise his voice. but he's also a huge teddy bear, he's sweet and thoughtful. he's loving and caring. and he has worked himself to the bone to give the best he could to this family.
honestly? there were times, growing up, when he didn't have solid employment, and we were dirt poor, and without complaining, he just.. went out in the morning, and he came back having found some way to earn enough money for food for the day. i will never know what it is he did. i will never know what favors he pulled, i will never know what odd jobs he did or how he even found them. i don't know if i ever want to know. but he would comb the entire city for something to do to earn just enough for us to have food in our stomachs for the day.
he's a hardworker, and he's charming as all hell, and he's a sweetheart. you can't not love him. i think i got that from him, you know? the lovability, the charm. not the 'oozing confidence' kind - the disarming, genuine, guy-next-door kind of charm. the 'i got your back' kind of charm. damn, i'm so proud of it.
he's been through a rough life. and he's grown up with ideals of toxic masculinity, of course. he's been in the military and he's been to prison (for his brother, may i add). i'm sure he's got undiagnosed unresolved trauma that's shaped him. and honestly i've got the suspicion he might have a tinge of ADD as well. point is, he's got reasons for having his flaws. well, all that, and the fact that he's a human being.
but he's always got love in his heart. and a thought for his loved ones first and foremost. yes, he might complain and drag his feet at times, but only when he knows that doing so wont actually harm us. he's been difficult when we asked him for favors in the past (even though he always ended up doing them anyways), but he's always been there when we really needed him.
and my brother pisses on all of that. my father has taken him in, and has always, always treated him like his own son even if he didn't have to. yes, he knew his existence when he started dating our mom, but he could've done the bare minimum - but he never has. he's always gone above and beyond.
and my brother constantly, over and over, throughout the years, has shat on all of it. multiple, multiple times he's called him a shitty father. absent. not really there. not putting in enough effort.
i'm sorry he was too busy trying to keep us alive to be there the way you wanted him to? which, i'm unsure of what the hell he means, anyways. he's always been there for my brother's difficult times, at least whenever my brother didn't push him the fuck away - which was often. my brother didn't see it, but it was my dad, it has always been my dad, that talked my mother down after bad arguments. when my brother had a fight with her and decided to just leave home (unprepared, without a job, out of spite), it was my dad that talked my mom back to enough calm to make her take back "don't you ever come back into this house again". and it was my dad that talked HIM down for hours until he saw reason and came back.
it's always been my dad. going above and beyond. even to the point of disregarding his own health.
my brother doesn't FUCKING understand that, and never will. no, im not surprised, because my brother is a selfish stubborn asshole, just like my mom.
i'm my dad's next of kin. and i take pride in it. i carry his last name with honor. (did i mention my brother got his last name changed from his absentee father's to my mom's? not even my dad's. just my mom's. but i guess momma's boys will be momma's boys.)
if i get married one day, i want to keep my last name.
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tteokdoroki · 3 years
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saccahrine sundays | k.bakugou
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♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.
♡ word count: 5.3K
♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.
♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff + smut.
♡ summary: katsuki can never find enough time to get some sleep. between being a full time pro hero, a father and a husband— hours of rest are hard to come by. unless it’s one of those sweet, sweet saccharine sundays.
♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to late twenties ), somnophilia, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female recieving ), tummy bulges, mating press, pregnancy!kink, daddy!kink, breeding!kink, light!exhibitionism, cumplay + needy bakugou has a praise!kink... <3
♡ author’s note(s): brrr hey guys! it feels like forever since i last posted a full fic, january was bleh so im happy to get this out !! special thanks to @greenchild for feeding me this idea and thank to all of you for your love, support and 2.8K. i love you all, enjoy <3
♡ masterlist | requests
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katsuki bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep. between being a pro hero and family life, the full eight to nine hours of pure rest wasn’t easy to come by— now he wasn’t complaining, he was far too grateful for the life he lead to whinge and whine about the finer details. bakugou was right on track to becoming the number two, he had a beautiful wife who loved him and supported him no matter how reckless he might have been and two little brats that he adored more than anything. he was miles ahead of his high school classmates, never letting up or resting so like he said, there was no room to complain.
but even as the faintest wisps of light slip through drawn curtains and a vermillion gaze settled on the old all might digital alarm clock ( reading 9:01 AM ), katsuki bakugou can’t help but feel grateful for the sleep he just had. no interruptions from wailing toddlers or infants who need changing, no late night call ins for patrols— none of that, just an arm around his wife’s waist and the soft sound of her breathing to coax him out of his sleepy state.
bakugou remembers now, a distant yet far from faint memory of where he and his wife spent two days of their honeymoon under slumber’s spell, having ravished each other the very night they arrived in paris for their honeymoon ( all mina’s idea, she had told katsuki it was the perfect destination for newly weds in love— and whilst the several districts his alien friend recommended did appease you, the blonde had promised to take you on a more luxurious getaway when he was hire up in the hero rankings ). of course that very honeymoon lead you to fall pregnant with your first little miracle— taiga bakugou, the very spitting image of her father except or the slight tilt to her nose and the sparkle in her eye that only her mother possessed.
raising her had proven to be both an enjoyable and exhausting experience for katsuki, with a matching explosive personality to rival even her daddy’s— there were many restless nights the pro hero spent butting heads with his daughter while his sweet spouse was away on missions and getting used to the field again. even during the pregnancy, full nights of rest were little to none— the cravings taiga gave you were almost unbearable for the blonde, not to mention the 2AM labour his little girl put you through...and yet he would repeat the last four years of lack of sleep all over again if it meant reliving every single moment with you. raising tatsumo was much better; however.
so as the weight of well deserved slumber lifts from katsuki’s shoulder’s he’s forced to deal with the memories of your sweet cries from the night (or rather, nights) he made you his wife. he stirs under cotton sheets, a familiar hardness pressing against his inner thigh as he recalls the way you tightened around him— “honey baby,” the desperate whisper tastes foreign, bitter across his tastebuds as he licks his lips. katsuki was usually much more composed when it came to sex, he could hold out for hours while you pleaded and begged of him to give you more. but this morning was different, very much so.
skilfully, the ash blonde slips a hand between your sheets, finger tips calloused with years of training and battle, dancing up your bare thighs from where you wear only his shirt and a pair of panties. the fingers trail up to your underwear, pressing them against your cunt as bakugou watches your face for any reaction— you twitch once before falling back into a deep slumber, letting your husband know that he can continue. he peels like orange silk away from your core and down your legs, half resisting the urge to sniff your undergarment like the dirty man he is but he decides that he can longer wait, already turned on by the feeling of your bare pussy against his hand.
the pro knows exactly how to turn you on, dragging is nails down your thighs just an inch from your wetness and his mind fogs with lust at the thought of the sounds you’d make for him if you were awake...not yet, he says to himself. his next move is to fuck your mouth, two of his digits sliding past parted lips from where you snore— gathering the drool that pools on the surface of your tongue. back and forth; move bakugou’s fingers until he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve made them with your spit. returning those very same fingers to your cunt, he parts your folds— already slightly sticky and hot with the nectar he’s used to savouring. if this were any other time, bakugou would be eating you out like a man starved of his last three meals but the rising sun tells him that his moments to fuck you are very few.
so now, he slides those lubed up fingers right into your tight little hole, shuddering under the sheets at how you automatically clamp around him— even while you sleep. katsuki’s vermillion eyes seek out your face in the warm light of the dusk, watching as your expression contorts into that familiar look of pleasure— lips blossoming into a cherry pout, brows furrowed as if you’re focusing on the way your husband makes you feel.
“fuck, honey baby, so good ‘n pliant for me even when yur fuckin’ sleepin’,” katsuki slurs against saliva that slips along his tongue, he’s hungry to fuck you, make you moan and scissors his fingers deep inside your obedient cunt in away that makes your slumbering body jump. pressing a thumb to your neglected clit, bakugou twists his fingers in search for your g-spot, pumping them into you with vigour. “gonna make you cum angel, baby, please cum while you’re like this s’you can take my cock.”
if there’s one thing pro hero dynamite knows, it’s that your body is a slave to him, no matter what state it’s in. your thighs part instinctively; giving your husband room to curl his fingers and press down hard on your pleasure spot— gummy walls sucking him in deeper. he makes you cum while you sleep, juices staining  your supple skin, honeyed from the warm light outside.
“atta girl, cummin’ for your husband like that even when you’re sleeping— so fuckin’ naughty...” katsuki grunts, locks of sun kissed hair beginning to plaster itself against his forehead. his body shakes with the desire to be inside of you, his internal temperature rising with every second that he’s not sheathed within your walls. pulling his fingers away from your twitching mound, bakugou slides them, cum soaked and all, into his mouth to taste your very sweetness. “would eatcha out like a starved man, honeybee, but we don’t gotta lot of time left baby...”
with that, bakugou shuffles his sweats down enough for his cock to spring free, tip bright red and leaking against his toned, scarred abdomen. with practised ease, he hooks your right leg over his waist and positions your dripping cunny right over the head of his length. it takes everything katsuki has not to plunge deep inside of you, to abuse your tempting cunt until it’s formed into the shape of his cock but for once he wants to take you slowly, enjoy his time with your limp body at his disposal.
pressing his girth against your slick entrance, your husband sighs, coating himself with the remainders of your delightful release. the mess you made just for him, makes it easier for him to guide his cock between your velveteen folds that take him so well. his free hand comes up to brush over your cheek and even in the depths of your rest you manage to nuzzle into katsuki’s palm and make his coo— what a precious little doll you are, so good for him and always so obedient no matter what state you’re in. fuck, it drives him so insane that he can’t even think straight.
“...suki....”
fucking hell. the way you sigh out for him so mawkishly whilst you dream makes him twitch, not even half the way inside you.  “c’mon honey baby, don’t go moanin’ my name like that when i haven’t even had a c-chance to make you mine yet—“ the blonde shudders, eyes screwing shut as he finally bottoms out inside of you. katsuki let’s out a choked moan, from deep within his chest while you welcome him into your lethally syrupy cunt. “ohh, fuck, that’s the stuff, good girl...”
bakugou’s thrusts start slow yet, forcing your limp body to jolt up the bed and your tits to bounce in tune with the rhythm of his hips— your little hole sucks him in so greedily, so selfishly, clamping down on him as if to prevent him from leaving your body as a whole. pro hero dynamite is shaken to his core, how can his precious baby take him so darlingly while she’s asleep, refusing to let go of him and keep his cock tucked away inside of you.
shit, shit, shit.
he wants to defile you, asleep or not, ruin how pure and angelic your body appears even after years of being together. it’s your fault he’s like this anyway, you deserve to have your pussy destroyed no matter the circumstances— ruby framed eyes threaten to roll back into his skull while bakugou picks up the swirl of his hips between your sticky thighs, you flutter and squeeze around the girth that’s stretched you out so many times before and yet you still remain a tight hole designed for your husband and your husband alone.
lips map their way up the column of your neck, committing every dip and scar and blemish to memory even though katsuki knows where each of them are. the amber colour of the morning sun highlights each of your marks, your husband giving you as many lovebites to match each one. “nn, suki...more..” you whimper, so quiet he almost misses it underneath the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin. could you feel how he deflowered you in your sleep? ruining such a good girl while you resting? he wants so bad to corrupt you from the inside.
static stretches across katsuki’s brain, crackling as his neurones fire and dopamine fizzes in his veins. cum. cum. breed her. it’s too soon but the blonde can’t help it, pent up and high on the morning sunrise— addicted to the taste of your skin licked with light perspiration. it’s been ages since he’s had you like this, can you blame him for not hanging on so long? bakugou lifts your thigh higher on his waist, using it as leverage to plough into the deepest parts of you, his precious wife, desperate to cream inside you before wake up.
“mm, know you’re close lovebug, won’t you cum for me suki?”
katsuki’s gaze hones in on you, vision blurred and hazy with lust from his impending orgasm. your own eyes are heavy with sleep but the soft smile on your face is filled with a familiar adoration and saccharine love that the blonde can never get tired of. he knows that you know your voice alone is another to send him speeding off of the cliff of release— your hole squeezing around him, beautiful hips that once brought his children into the world gracefully moving up and down to coax his girthy cock to its final release.
“honey baby,” katsuki whines like a broken man when you cup his face, hot puffs of air warming up the space between you.  his hips don’t let up though, driven by the way you move against him beneath the sheets, he’s so close he can almost taste it. “c-couldn’t wait for you to wake up, needed you so fuckin’ bad...”
your mouth hangs open in a quiet groan, getting lost in the claps of sweaty bodies against one another and katsuki latches onto your lower lips to swallow your noise— breathing it in and letting it spread through his body like oxygen. “oh, lovebug, y-you don’t...” you pause, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the angry tip of your husband’s cock grazes against your gummy spot, sending your walls into a flurry of flutters that make katsuki twitch. “ ...you don’t ever have to wait with me, d-don’t hold back, kay?”
you’re a breathless mess, a sight to behold and he can’t take not having you filled with his seed any longer. the lazy push and pull of your bodies smacking wetly against each other become erratic thrusts, heat pooling in the abdomen of the pro hero boiling him alive in feelings of desire for you and you alone.
bakugou quivers from his lips to his toes when he cums, filling your slippery walls with a creamy white and lining your insides with the claim of your man. your man. your husband. “fuck, fucking hell,  h-honey, gimme that pussy...gimmie that fuckin’ pussy,” his groans linger in the crisp early morning air, dancing with the static while he orgasms within you, endless bouts of white stuffing you to the brim. you kiss in an attempt to calm him, squeezing around his thick cock to ride out his high. you taste of orange liquor  and manuka honey, addicting while he sucks lavishly on your tongue and spares you the air you need to breathe. ‘cause at the end of the day call you need is him.
“did you cum, precious one?” ever the gentleman, katsuki has to ask but even you can see in his blood red ruby eyes ( no matter how tired they may seem ) that he’s gearing up for a second round, shallow thrusts pushing his own release  deeper into your fertile womb. there’s about thirty minutes until the kids wake up, but your lover can make you see stars in fifteen.
you shake your head once as bakugou rolls you onto your back— strong arms caging you into the prison if his love. large hands dance tenderly up the back of your thighs and you meet his eyes with such a saccharine smile his heart bursts at the sight of you. “you’re insatiable, lovebug,” the tingling notes of your moan caresses bakugou’s cheek as he manoeuvres your legs to fold you into a mating press, shifting his weight above you. “did you really need me that much, daddy bear?”
“think y’already know the answer to that, honeybee,” katsuki drawls, tripping over his words filled, oh so generously with blazing desire. he still remains sheathed inside you, a darling whine dripping from his cherry lined lips— the ones sore from kissing you— as he gives an experimental thrust into the tight heat of your core. you accept him willingly, opening up for him like a blossoming flower which makes katsuki’s hot breath stutter from the overstimulation. neither of you can look away, sharing the intimate moment of his length sinking into you— katsuki groans as you suck him in inch by inch before leaning over and attaching his lips to yours, licking at the seam of them in order to coax them open. his wife is a tease however; denying him the pleasure of sucking on her tongue...for now at least.
but it’s all worth it, for katsuki wants to burn the erotic sight of you beneath him into his mind forever. your skin shines like it was kissed by the setting moon, eyes hooded and holding a lust that only burns brightly for him while your chest heaves in anticipation of your husband claiming you for the second time that morning. “m-move suki, please—c-can’t...” the tail end of your pleas fall away with the fading night sky.
the man doesn’t need to be told twice.
save for a few shallow thrusts to get going, katsuki soon finds himself pistoning into you at an unruly, god speed pace. the blonde revels in the way one hand of yours twirls strands of his hair between your fingers whilst the other digs crescent moons into his blemished honey skin. helpless huffs and candied cries tickle bakugou’s ears while he presses your body flush against his and pins you down with his hips.
their movements don’t ever waver, cock catching on every ridge your damp pussy has to offer him, each thrust calculated amplify your pleasure that rolls in heatwaves throughout your body. katsuki’s mind grows blank, thick with the mirage you’ve cast over him from the way you push back against him, taking more of his inches into you.
“ngh, lovebug,” you say, high off of euphoria while katsuki’s leaking cock bears down harshly on your g-spot and you smile up at him deliriously— looking like the eighth wonder of the world. you grab the hand your husband uses to keep your thighs up and bring it down to your tummy for him to feel what you feel. “can feel your cock inside me, love, so big...makin’ my tummy bulge like a good daddy bear...”
something snaps within katsuki at the sound of your breathless praise; a feral blaze setting alight deep inside his chest— spreading throughout his body as his cock drives deeper and deeper inside your spongy, wet cunt— just about breaching the gates of your cervix. breed her. fuck her. make her swollen with your cum. bakugou can’t even think straight; intoxicated by the way you move against him, the way you look so full of him and his thick length.
he wants you to look full all of the time. so katsuki does with the only way he knows how. dropping his head to your neck, sharp attack your neck with blossoms of bruises forming under your skin in the name of love— you whine, a gorgeous symphony of his name against his ear while you tangle your fingers in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “y’can’t jus...jus say stuff like that to me, honey...” bakugou croons against your skin, screwing his eyes shut while his hips pick up the pace and plunging his length right into your womb. the sounds of your arousal wetly spill into the sex scented air— fuelling katsuki to thrust into you faster. “not if you...n-not if you don’t want me to fuck another one of those shitty brats into you.”
as stuttered as his words are, bakugou means every single one of them. a primal desire activates in the back of his mind, overriding every single of senses. just the thought of lining your womb with his pungent seed, making you pregnant once again and seeing you round and full with katsuki’s child is enough to drive him off of the rails. And the pro hero knows that you feel the same, he can tell by the way your heat clamps down on his cock and strangles him, as if to milk him of every ounce of his cum.
“yes, want you to make me pregnant suki, make me a mommy again, please—!”  you simper out loud, desperate tears springing to your eyes while the bed groans beneath you. visions of you round and swollen with a baby drives him to thrust into you harder, faster so that more and more of his precum spills into you. “know you want it, want it too...your cum, deep inside me—ohmygod suki—yes!”
bakugou slaps a hand over your mouth, watching as your sweet doe eyes brim with tears at the languid roll of his hips against yours. “careful honeybee, don’t want the kids to...fuckin’ hell... h-hear—“ he stutters, eyes rolling, limbs shaking violently. his other hand drops between your conjoined bodies, drawing vicious circles into your swollen clit to draw you closer and closer to the edge. star dust is littered behind your eyes, the bright white signifying the race to your high that only katsuki can give to you. “or do you want to be heard, you want everyone to hear how full you’re gonna become when i get you pregnant again. how you’ll whine and beg me to suck on your tits when you start makin’ that sweet milk for our baby. is that what you fuckin’ want, yn?”
you can’t help the way your pussy flutters around his cock that brutally grazes your g-spot— the dirty words your husband speaks like music to your ears. a symphony with his moans and the sounds of his balls slapping against your bare ass.  “oooh, shit baby, you must do with the way your lil cunny clamps down on me—just like that...”
“oh god, lovebug please...cum...cum! need it daddy bear—can’t take it anymore,” you babble against katsuki’s hand, brain turning to mush at the unbearable pleasure. the knot in your tummy becomes tighter, close to snapping as the white light of pleasure clouds your view.
patterns drawn diligently against your clit speed up; turning to quick figure of eights to tease your orgasm. “‘course you fuckin’ do honey baby, my little breeding bitch. my sweet little wife who can’t wait to be a mommy again. take this cock, you dirty whore. take it and I’ll give you my fuckin’ baby.” bakugou slurs, losing all control as the pace of his hips begins to falter. you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, tip pulsing with the need to paint your insides.
your gazes lock within the frenzy, while your back arches and hips lift to take your husband deeper inside you. dynamite is feral like you’ve never seen before; an animal reduced purely back to instinct. unfocused red eyes become teary like your own with hot pleasure while they lock onto you but you know that behind lust; loved the adoration and love your husband holds for you. thats all you need to reach the edge and tumble into your orgasm,
it takes but a few more thrusts and a pinch to your clit before you’re cumming— release squirting out and splattering against bakugou’s toned abdomen.
the blonde never lets up while you cum undone on his iron hot rod, letting him pump into you with unrelenting feverishness. katsuki is desperate, needing an extra push even with you strangling his cock with your insides. “s-say you’ll make your daddy a daddy baby, say you’ll give me another fucking kid. fuck, fuck yeah...please honey baby—“ bakugou damn near sobs, trembling violently above you as his breath hitches with ever hiccup.
smiling gently, you pull his head to your neck, cradling your husband while his pace slows to circular grinds. “i’ll make you a daddy again, you can cum for me now lovebug...”
“shit, shit, oh god— cummin’...” thats all bakugou needs to hear before bottoming out inside of your abused hole—  screaming against your bitten flesh and forcing his cock into your fertile womb as he sprays with his thick, sticky seed. white coats every ridge and crevice of your pussy while impatient thrusts slow to sensual grinds. you feel the tears of neediness soak the supple skin of your neck, rocking your hips against katsuki to milk his cock for all it’s worth— even if slow waves of his cum seep down your folds and to the sheets below.
“g’morning, katsuki,” you sigh blissfully, fingers combing through your lover’s sweaty mop of sun kissed locks. the pair of you lie still, limbs still intertwined as you catch your breath under the orange hues of the light outside.
your husband shifts his head to look at you, eyelids heavy over blood red eyes with a satisfied look on his face. he’ll never get over having you all to himself first thing in the morning— katsuki bakugou will always consider that a luxury and as he looks to you, a great smile soon takes his features. “yeah...good fucking morning to you too, angel face,” bakugou doesn’t dare pull out of you, intent on keeping his word. “love you yn, you’re always so good to me...”
katsuk’s lips mould into a pout as you continue your earlier ministrations of brushing back sweat slicked hair away from his face before pressing a chase kiss to his lip and making his cock twitch from over sensitivity, inside of you. he was always a sucker for the romantic moments after a passionate round of sex, he was a domestic, love struck son of a bitch what could he say? “suki...lovebug, you know you can pull out if it’s too much,” you remind him, the sound of your voice pulling his attention back to you. as he stares; katsuki maps out every detail of your face, the way your eyes glitter in the mellow light that peeks from between closed curtains or the slight dip across your cheek in the form of a scar from where you’d been injured on the field— he spends time committing it all to memory as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness such beauty. “you’re staring, bug.”
“nuh uh, not pulling out.” huffing, bakugou leans up for another kiss, which you happily provide him with as he curls up onto your chest like a kitten seeking warmth. “keepin’ you plugged full s’you can get preggers like i fuckin’ promised.”
“you were serious?” you question him first, earning yourself another grouchy huff before your eyes roll and a comfortable silence sweeps across your bedroom, periodically interrupted by the morning birds waking up and chirping. “always a man of your word, huh bug? don’t worry, we’ll make you a daddy bear soon, but i’ve got to clean up before the kids wake up.”
“don’ you fuckin’ move— leave the dumbass kids, they’ll be fine on their own.”
“not with taiga’s quirk coming through, now move, you’re heavy.”
with that, you manage to shove bakugou off of you and he only hisses lightly as his softened cock hits the cold air, already missing your heat. the banter between you both as husband and wife is always light and you always win; he wants to bite back but anything he says will be soft on his sharp tongue. damn you and you being the love of his life. bakugou watches as you fix his shirt over your frame and head to your en-suite bathroom to make yourself more presentable to your kids— mumbling something about how many times katsuki came inside of you.
sure there was a lot of it, but he’d only cum inside you twice and he was trying to give you a baby. again.
the shower turns on and he can hear the sound of water running but it doesn’t cover your sweet voice as you call for him. he could never miss that. “katsuki bakugou, you horny bastard, i love you, my daddy bear!” you sing for him; making the blonde smile.
“i love you more, honey baby,” he chuckles back, tucking himself back into sweats before settling back into the ruined sheets.
bakugou was so luckily to have you and you’re beautiful children— he wouldn’t trade any moment of his life for the world except for maybe more time with you. he swore, he’d spend forever loving you if he could.
“daddy?” sweet thoughts are cut off by the groggy voice of bakugou’s eldest daughter, taiga, who stands in the doorway of his bedroom rubbing her cherry red eyes.
the blonde grins, rising from his place in bed and crossing the room in three short strides. he quickly crouches down in front of his little girl and ruffle her unruly mop of matching blonde hair. “g’morning brat, what’s up?”
taiga clutches her shoto plushy tightly, the one uncle todoroki had gotten her for her first birthday ( the one that bakugou hated because it was his daughter’s favourite— kirishima hated it too because he had always thought he was the favourite uncle ), and pouts down at her father, scowling sleepily. bakugou knows if you could see the two of them now, you’d be saying she was the spitting image of him. “tatsumo woke up n wouldn’t stop whinin’, fink he’s hungry, daddy!” the little girl grumbles, clearly still reeling in the after effects of her sleep that got cut short.
“how about we go get him and make some pancakes then?” katsuki suggests softly, hauling his daughter onto his bare shoulders and being mindful not to drop her stupid fuckin’— i mean her plushy to the ground. “y’gonna help me mix up enough batter for ya ma n’ brother, you got that brat?”
taiga squeals as at the new found height, wrapping a singular chubby arm around bakugou’s head for support, making his heart burst at the tiny hand that grips his chin. fuck, he loved his life. “only if we can add choco chwips, daddy!”
“oi, don’t you push your fuckin’ luck with me brat, ya mommy might let you get away with eatin’ shit like that but not me—“ bakugou makes an attempt to scold his daughter while they make way towards his son’s room, but he already knows he’s going to give into her. he can’t say no to taiga.
“i’ll tell mommy you cursed at me!”
“why you little sh—“
“careful, katsuki, if you keep cursing her out i might have to put you on punishment later,” taiga bursts in to wriggly giggles on bakugou’s shoulders, making it harder to keep her in place as you brush past him to grab tatsumo from the nursery.
“daddy’s gonna get in trouble!”
the teasing tone to your voice lingers in the air while you fetch your son, who seems groggy and pouty when he comes into katsuki’s view— wrapped up in your arms while you wear a cleaner shirt of his. there’s that glint in your eye, similar to the one your children posses when they’re doing something mischievous. and  that alone tells the ash blonde he’ll be getting punished in ways that could lead to another little one rushing through your house.
bakugou can roll with that.
but for now; he reaches up and pinches taiga’s nose— telling her to stop running her mouth and sending you into giggles while you carry your children downstairs for breakfast. katsuki bakugou couldnt remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep, but what he did know is that he’d always remember the very saccharine mornings he’d get to spend with you and your beautiful children after.
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bonus:
“taiga, did you put chocolate chips in the batter even though i told you no?”
bakugou had turned his back for but a mere second to grab some milk for tatsumo; who played happily with smooshed bits of banana in his high chair— and suddenly, the batter was littered with the offending, tiny pieces of candy.
“no, it was mommy!”
“yn...”
you quickly throw your hands up in the air as defence, dropping the packet of sinful treats to the counter. “what? i’m having cravings, bakugou!”
“you’re not even pregnant, yn!” the man himself raises his spatula at you accusingly with a scowl, biting down on his tongue to prevent himself from cursing again.
you smile up at your husband, knowing he can’t stay mad at you for long. “but i will be, katsuki, it’s the thought that counts.” your eyes flicker up as you wipe the melted chocolate on your finger tips off with your tongue before moving to settle your daughter down for breakfast. bakugou splutters, cheeks flaming with a reddish rose at the thought of your soon to be baby and all the activity that comes with making one which makes you laugh. “oh and lovebug? your pancakes are burning.”
with a jump, katsuki turns to flick off the flame and save his batch of pancakes while you tend to your kids— leaving him to contemplate over your chocolate chip breakfast, how lucky he was to have you.
“i crave chocolate, can i get a pregnant?” taiga squeals shortly after.
“not a chance in hell, brat.”
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♡ taglist:
@ozzy-bozzy @bakugous-mamas @meg-mystic @runningon-5percentsleep @cyans-bliss @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @paintedr0ses1 @69meggg69 @sapphoscolonoscopy @toshidou @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @candybabey @alrunemara​ @greenchild​
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