#'no man can go that many rounds in a row' I DON'T CARE HE'S NOT A MAN HE'S NOT REAL

[canonslut]

“it’s so unrealistic when x readers say-” i’m not reading x readers for realism. i’m reading them because i want to fuck a fictional character.

[letstevengrantsleep]

Part Five

Previous part / Next part

Eddie Munson x reader slow burn

part summary: an unexpected encounter leaves you confused

word count: 1,092

warnings: none

a/n: I promise this all comes to a head in the next part, I actually have it already written and it will be published REALLY SOON after this one, it's in my drafts ready to go!!

main masterlist series masterlist

The morning sun filters through the large windows of your quaint bookshop, casting a warm glow over the rows of neatly arranged books. You stand behind the counter, fingers absentmindedly tracing the spine of a well-worn novel. You thoughts drift back to the conversation with Eddie last night. You've never felt so understood, so calm considering the whirlwind you've found yourself in.

The bell above the door chimes, pulling you away from your reverie, and as you look up you see a tall, lanky man with tousled brown hair and a curious expression on his face. You watch as he wonders through the isles, eyes scanning the titles with an interest that you can't falter. You wait for a moment before shimmying out from behind the counter, careful to avoid the piles of books waiting to be priced up, and approach him with a very customer-friendly smile.

"Can I help you find anything?" you ask, voice gentle.

As the man turns round, a friendly smile spreads across his face. "Actually, yeah. I'm looking for something new, definitely fantasy. Do you have any recommendations?"

Your eyes light up, "oh my God of course, fantasy is my favourite genre."

You lead the man to the fantasy section and talk him through a few options before leaving him to it, returning back to the counter to actually start on the teetering pile of books stacked on the edge, logging each one and pricing it individually. A tedious task at best.

"This is a beautiful shop, how long have you had the place?" The man asks, eyes flicking down to the 'manager' badge pinned wonky on your shirt, reading your name off the tag before smiling back up at you. "I'm Rob." He introduces himself, awkwardly holding his hand out for you to shake. It's endearing. Cute.

"About three years," you smile, "I adore this place, it was a lot of work but, uh," you take the books off him and price up, mumbling to yourself as you manually add up the prices, "it's been my dream since I was a kid." You smile again.

"Wow", Rob nods, impressed, "that's amazing. Not many people get to live out there dreams like this."

As you chat, Rob's mind begins to piece together a few fragments of the conversation he's having with you with something else he's encountered this week.

"Wait," Rob says slowly, his brow furrowing. He repeats your name back to you, "that's your name?"

"Yeah..?" You respond, curiosity and confusion painted across your face.

You watch as Rob hesitates, choosing his next words carefully. "I think I know you. Or, no." He shakes his head. "I know of you. You're Jake's ex, right?"

As quick as it came, your expression fades into a look of guarded surprise. "You know Jake?" You can't help but feel on edge, you're not entirely sure how Jake will be retelling the story of your breakup. You can't imagine for a second that it will make you look good.

Rob sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Jake and I were friendly a while back but we lost touch. I remember him mentioning a girlfriend that owned a book shop." He takes a moment and you watch as his face contorts into something uneasy, "I'm sorry for bringing him up, I don't want to make things awkward. I heard he didn't handle things well."

You shake your head, "No, it's okay. It was rough but I'm moving forwards, I think that's all I can do at this point."

Rob nods, his eyes filled with empathy. "If you ever need someone to talk to or just to hang out with," he digs around in his pocket for a scrap of paper and gestures to borrow your pen, "I'm here. I know we don't know each other well but, uh," he hands you a scrap with a number scribbled down onto it, "I want to help if I can."

You feel a warmth spread across your chest. "That means a lot, thank you."

-

Your mind is still buzzing from your encounter with Rob as you make your way back to Steve's house, not feeling like you want to be on your own right now. The evening air is cool, the sky painted with hues of orange and pink, feeling apt as emotions mix in your stomach leaving you with an uneasy feeling.

As you arrive you find Eddie sitting on the sofa inside, fiddling with papers and tobacco as he rolls himself a cigarette. He looks up with a frown which immediately melts into a smile as you approach him, slumping down onto the other sofa as you huff, the weight of another day slowly sliding off your shoulders.

"Hey sunshine," Eddie jokes, "I would ask how your day went but I've got a feeling I know what the answer will be." He smiles wide, licking the cigarette paper to seal it, rolling it between his fingers before propping it behind his ear.

You look towards him then up to the ceiling, huffing as you sink further into the sofa cushions. "It was okay. Interesting. I met someone new, someone who knew Jake." His name sounds foreign on your tongue, weird to say even after just one day. "Some guy called Rob," you continue as Eddie stays silent, leaning forwards as he listens to you.

Eddie's brow furrows slightly, "he give you any trouble?"

It's a valid question, and as you shake your head it does nothing to ease Eddie's nerves. "No, he was actually really nice. He apologized for how things ended with Jake and gave me his number. Told me to call him if I want to hang out, or talk..." Your voice trails off as you realize the connotations behind what Rob had said in the shop. Are you being to optimistic, thinking that Rob really did just want to be there for you?

"You sure you can trust him, sweetheart?" Eddie tries, regretting the pet name as soon as it leaves his mouth, but he can't help it.

You shrug, "I don't know. It was strange at first but he seemed genuine. I suppose I'm just trying to figure out if I can trust him"

Eddie fights back the urge to reach out and place a hand on your knee. "It's okay to be cautious. Probably a good thing to be honest. You've been through shit, one step at a time for the foreseeable, yeah?"

You nod, thankful for Eddie's support. "Yeah, exactly. One step at a time."

Taglist

@sapphire4082 @twirls827 @bewr0210 @maskofmirrors @saramelaniemoon @halialex1119 @mugloversonly

[boyfridged]

i want to thank lovely @ekleiipsis for her contribution to amani’s campaign (amani reached her goal!) and many others. if you’d like to help out, please check my spotlight list. i am currently taking prompts for ficlets in exchange for proof of donation. details here. this is a ficlet written based on mar’s prompt (jay for the first time in the manor!). it’s 1086 words. enjoy.

(don't you wonder, sometimes?)

Jay does not go home. Or he does. The manor is his new home. This is what Bruce Wayne — Bruce Wayne!, not that he knew anything about him besides the vague recollection of rare headlines, tells him after taking the cowl off. There are black smudges of makeup around his eyes. And fluttering bats above them, on the cave’s ceiling.

“Theatre. And this— This is more of a palace,” Dad would say, probably. Well. Dad is not here.

Bruce Wayne is. Tall, but his smile is small. His steps, though, again – bigger. He is still wearing shoes even as he walks out of the silent clock, into the house, which is bizarre enough. Jason takes his boots off, because that’s the normal thing to do, even if Batman does not seem to know (or care). Then Jay ought to take twice as many strides for each of the man next to him, his legs too short to compare.

The corridor is so long that it feels almost like a trip, especially with the backpack hanging from his shoulder.

They make just one stop, in the kitchen, which is almost as big as the flat of his family. The fridge is the size of two regular ones, too. Wayne opens it and there are rows of products there, neater than the fancy convenience store displays. He takes an energy drink out of it and hands it to Jason. Then, he closes the fridge and takes a packet of granola from the cupboard next to it.

“Alfred is normally around to fetch snacks, but he seems to have gone to bed early,” Bruce Wayne says, scratching his neck awkwardly.

“Okay,” Jay replies, because he does not know who Alfred is. It is a posh name, all round sounds as he mouths it to himself. Better to remember.

“Sorry. You will get a real meal first thing in the morning. Is almond butter fine?”

Jay nods at the absurd question, accepting the bowl. “Okay,” he repeats, to fill in the silence, moving his weight to the other feet. 

“You must be tired. You can eat in your room.”

Because Jay is supposed to have a room of his own now. Right.

And they make their way there. First, there are more stairs — again, way too many. There’s also a portrait in the hall, a couple in what his mom would call “evening” clothes, and a boy, younger than him. They pose the way people in old pictures do. Jay almost stops to look at it, but Wayne is already at the top of the stairway. It would be easier to keep up by grasping at his sleeve, but Jay’s hands are full. They pass a vase without flowers. Maybe rich people don’t get flowers either. 

Batman halts in a spot that looks more lived in than the others. On the left, there’s a door with a “Keep out!” sign and some postcards. Pyramids. Some generic beaches. A huge, gold statue of Buddha. A very realistic rendition of a dinosaur. He gestures on the door across, on the right.

“You can have this one.”

For a moment, Jay just stands there, a bowl of granola with a bottle of energy drink on top of it balanced in one arm, and a pair of boots held in the other hand, suddenly sweaty. His heart hammers quickly, rabbit-like. 

“Okay,” he says, through a constrained throat, realising that what they are waiting for is his own reaction. Only then Bruce Wayne opens the door. 

Jay almost takes a step back, but that would mean walking into the man behind him. So instead he enters the bedroom. It’s not big, but it looks like it's from a period drama, which is intimidating enough. He puts the bowl on the desk. His shoes in the empty wardrobe.

Wayne disappears for a moment and comes back with a set of blue bedding, some rather big looking clothes (though Jay can’t imagine the guy in a Bowie’s 1983 tour t-shirt, so maybe it’s not his) and a hotel-like set of toiletries. Jay mutters a quiet “thanks.”

“You should rest. I will let you know when we have breakfast.” Wayne says, and after a pause asks, as if trying to speak his language: “Okay?” 

Jay attempts a smile, nodding. But Batman doesn't leave. He looks at him, and Jason is now feeling even more nervous, because the panda eyes make him want to giggle. This probably would not be an issue – he already mocked Batman plenty, called him names even – what was he thinking!, but now… He swallows, tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth. Since he entered the car (Batmobile!) all the adrenaline, both from danger and excitement, came down, like from a punctured balloon. And now he is facing a stranger. His confidence is just as deflated, old shyness taking over.

Batman looks like he wants to add something. He says nothing - well, a “goodnight” and resigns himself to briefly – almost absent-mindedly, touching Jason’s temple. The gesture reminds Jay of the priest from the cathedral in the East End. The one who called all the kids “lambs.” It’s kind. And even the expression on Batman’s face is familiar – a mix of puzzlement and worry. 

Then Jay is left alone in the museum-like room. 

He takes his belongings out of the backpack. Two sets of clothes, no fresh PJs – that Serious Moonlight Tour t-shirt might be helpful tonight after all. The battered picture of his parents. This is all he had with himself at the boarding school. And this is where they stopped. Not– not home.

“Okay,” he whispers to himself. Or sniffs. “This is home now.”

He puts the photograph on the bedside table. Except this way, his parents are facing not just the mattress, but also the window. And outside the window, in the darkness – nothing. A field of grass, some decorative plants, their shapes slightly menacing, tilting from the wind. The air here in Bristol is so fresh that the night is black, not grey. And there are stars, so many! Still, the silence– 

“Space for a whole campsite,” Dad would say. But the more Jay tries to imagine Dad here, the more uneasy he feels. And Mom, she'd laugh– “Give it up, Willis. I’m a city girl.” 

Jay touches the small, crumpled faces printed on the shiny paper. Hugs it close to his heart. And then, he puts it under the pillow. 

Today he will learn to sleep in the quiet. The price for the night sky.

[blackshadowswriter]

Charming Thoughts┃Bucky Barnes

AN: I feel like I've said this too many times, but here we go again: I'M BACK, BITCHES. Guess who decided to take an unannounced, month-long hiatus and was too lazy to finish this fic that's been sitting in the drafts for a literal month until now.

Request from @nyctophilic0vitnir! Sorry this took so long, life jumped me <3

CW: getting knocked out? nothing much, just fluff

"Buck, Y/N," Steve's voice spoke in your earpiece. "The west wing of the building is clear now. Be careful."

"Copy, Cap," you murmured and looked over your shoulder.

Next to you, Bucky crouched behind the destroyed tank that both of you were taking cover behind. His bright blue eyes scanned the battlefield, looking for any danger close to the two of you.

The snowy landscape of Siberia didn't provide many areas for camouflage, so it was risky being out in the open. Scattered across the field between the tall icy woods and the isolated bunker, which was the last of the Hydra bases that the Avengers were hunting, were a crush of Hydra agents fighting your other team members, all off them black specks against the white snow.

Seemingly finding no nearby threats, Bucky looked down at you and nodded. The two of you were clear to search the bunker now that the Hydra soldiers had been drawn out.

"Clear," he affirmed.

"Let's go then, Tin Man."

Bucky huffed at the nickname and shook his head as the two of you started to creep around the tank towards the building.

"We're going in," he informed the rest of the team.

************************************************************************

"Do you think those are supposed to be there?" you whispered to Bucky, pointing in the dark room.

His cerulean eyes scanned your surroundings, alert as always. "I'll keep watch. You can check it out," he murmured, nodding to the row of metal containers lined against the back wall of what looked to be a Hydra containment room.

You nodded, trusting Bucky to cover you as you holster your twin pistols, creeping towards the containers. Each of them was wider than your body and came up to your chest level. Fumbling for a flashlight on your belt, you flicked one on and pointed it at the front of the metal containers.

They were all matte black with some writing on the front. You crouched down to read them more clearly. On the center of each was a large yellow, triangular sign you recognized.

"They're radioactive," you called to Bucky.

Bucky tensed. "Get away from them, Y/N," he ordered.

"Wait," you murmured, shining your flashlight on the sides. "There's more writing. It's faded, I can't really see it..."

"Y/N," Bucky urged. "Get away from them!"

"Hold on, Bucky!" you snapped. "There's something on it."

You reached out to brush some dust off the side of metal can to read the words better. Underneath your fingertips, the containers were freezing cold but somehow burning hot at the same time, a start juxtaposition that made you hiss in surprise.

"Don't touch them, Y/N!" Bucky yelped. "Are you insane?"

Then, you saw it. In dark, bold letters, the words Destroy If Necessary stood out amongst the smaller fonts of manufacture dates. Next to those ominous words was a small, round black device stuck to the side of the container. Alarmed, you pulled back and scanned the other metal cans with your flashlight. Each one of them had the same black device on them.

And once you had touched the first one, all of them started blinking red, glowing brighter and brighter with each passing second. The metal containers started to give off an almost nauseatingly conflicting feel of icy cold and burning hot.

Scrambling to your feet, you shouted, "Get back!" at Bucky. You lunged towards him and shoved him behind a large steel door as an white explosion lit up your vision.

Your body burned and froze at the same time as you were thrown violently into the air, smashing into something hard and falling to the floor with a thud. Instinctively, you curled in on yourself, tucking your head into your arms for protection.

After a few seconds, you realized it was oddly silent all around you. You strained your ears for the sound of Bucky groaning that would tell you that he was alive at least. Instead, when you turned over, pain throbbing in your body, and tried to open your eyes, everything was bright and blurry. You couldn't make out anything.

Just when you were starting to panic at the lack of sound and vision, it felt like someone had hit unmute. A cacophony of sounds exploded in your ear drums so suddenly, you yelped and clamped your hand over your ears.

But the sound didn't stop. It was a harsh ringing that seemed to resonate into your very brain. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to stop the insistent noise echoing in your ears to no avail. It was like someone had stuck tiny speakers in your eardrums and play audio of someone scrapping metal with metal.

Scattered words from voices that weren't your own suddenly blasted through your ears: team—help—need—retreat—find—two—gone—explosion—please—

There were numerous, disjointed voices speaking all at once in your head, making it impossible for you to make out anything. All of it overwhelmed you, and you cried out at the pain of the high ringing combined with the loud voices.

Hands were on your shoulders, making you flinch in fear, but they were soothing and gentle. Someone pulled you into their lap—you could feel one warm soft hand and another cold hard one cradling your head, but you weren't afraid. You felt oddly safe with whoever it was despite the pain.

Oh God, what happened to her?

You furrowed your brows in confusion. Through all the chaos screaming in your head, you heard that one voice clearly cutting through all the other sounds and words, resonating in your head.

Please don't let her be hurt.

The same voice again. It was low and gruff with an undertone of definite concern that you recognized—

"Bucky," you rasped.

Over the shouting in your head, you couldn't even hear your own voice, but you felt Bucky pulling you against his chest, which was vibrating gently—he was speaking. But you couldn't hear it over the noise in your mind.

Can she not hear me? Oh god, please don't let her be deaf!

What the heck? You could hear Bucky's voice in your head, but it obviously wasn't what he was saying out loud.

"Hurts," you whimpered, shaking your head. "Can't hear you. It's too loud. It hurts."

His chest was rumbling softly as he spoke words you couldn't hear.

"I—can't..." You shook your head, exhaustion and pain overtaking you. The words and pain in your head faded away along with the world into darkness.

****************************************************************

Wake up, Y/N. Please wake up, doll.

Soft, pleading words were the first thing you heard when you regained consciousness, pain radiating through your entire body. Thankfully, the ringing in your ears had stopped, and the discordant words had quieted significantly although you could still hear them murmuring in your head.

Yet as before, you could hear Bucky's low voice above the other voices, repeating the words over and over: please, Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was my fault, but please wake up.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, blinking up at a familiar ceiling. Blearily looking around, you realized you were in your room back in Avengers Tower, laying in your own bed. Next to you was Bucky, sitting in a chair pulled up besides your bed, his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees.

"Bucky," you croaked.

His head jolted up out of his hands, wide blue eyes meeting yours. Bucky scooted forwards hurriedly, his flesh hand coming up to cup your cheek gently while his metal hand gentle held yours.

"Y/N," he murmured, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "Are you okay?"

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as you nodded slowly. "I'm okay," you rasped.

Bucky frowned. "You sound terrible. Let me get you some water."

He hurried out of his chair into the bathroom, and you heard the water start running. A second later, he bustled back to your bed, carrying the cup you used for mouthwash.

"I couldn't find any other cup," he explained apologetically.

You mustered up a tired smile as you took the cup from him. "This is perfect, thank you," you assured him.

A pleased smile flickered across his lips at your words. Bucky leaned back in his chair, observing you with those bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce you as you slowly sipped the water.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Frowning slightly, you lowered your half drunk cup of water and studied your lap.

"Different," you decided. It felt true. There was something different about everything—something clearer. You felt like you could see more, like you were only just opening your eyes fully for the first time.

"Everything feels a lot...more," you said vaguely, waving your hand.

Bucky reached out and took your hand in his much larger one. He gently brushed his thumb across the back of your hand.

You still look as beautiful as always.

There they were again, Bucky's words brushing across your mind, cutting across the murmur of other voices whispering in your head.

You looked up at him, a blush heating up your cheeks. "Big charmer you are, Mr. Barnes," you laughed.

Bucky's eyes widened slightly. "Oh," he chucked, running his metal hand through his hair. "I forgot you could hear that."

"Hear what?" you asked curiously. "Did you not say that out loud?"

"No," Bucky admitted with an awkward laugh. "I—uh, actually thought it."

A beat of silence passed as you digested his words slowly.

"Sorry," you said hesitantly. "Did you say you thought it? And...I heard you?"

An adorable, lopsided smile crossed Bucky's face that makes you return the gesture despite yourself. "So, funny story, Y/N. Apparently, those containers you touched back at that base—"

He paused in his explanation to give you a stern look, reprimanding you for doing that without speaking. You winced and nodded guiltily, having to admit that you were pretty dumb to touch radioactive containers.

"—cause mutations," Bucky finished. "You pushed me under that steel door and got yourself a big dose of it in that explosion." He paused again to make known his disapproval for your actions, but you knew you'd do it again in a heartbeat to protect Bucky.

He continued, "Tony ran some tests on you when we got back, and long story short, it looks like you can read minds now."

"What?" you blurted, sitting up straight. "Rewind to the mutations part."

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. "The reading minds part didn't catch your attention enough?"

"Not as much as the mutation part," you said, sounding slightly hysterical. Panic wormed its way into your chest. "What do you mean mutation? Is that bad? Oh God, please don't tell me I'm going to evolve into a three headed frog with alien legs!"

Bucky stared at you, amusement and fondness written all over his face. How is she so adorable? he mused in his head, a question you heard quite plainly in your own.

"Stop thinking I'm adorable, and answer the question!" you demanded. You were flustered and flattered at his words of course, but his spoken words seemed more important at the moment. "Am I going to turn into a frog?"

Bucky shook his head, a startled laugh escaping his lips. "Right, I forgot you could hear that. No, doll, you're not going to turn into a frog."

"An alien then?" you asked, terrified. Your fear mounted, and the other voices seemed to magnify in your head, becoming louder and louder. You started to catch snatches of the words, all of them once again becoming a confusing jumble of mumbles. You realized that if you focused hard, you could differentiate some of the voices.

Steve's disjointed voice ghosted across your mind: —training session tonight with Sam and Nat—

Then, Tony and Bruce's voices muttering together: —if we can separate the atoms—no it would only make another compound—

Natasha's fuzzy voice echoing in your brain: —you're a little shit, Samuel Wilson—

You were hearing the thoughts of everybody in the tower, and it was all blurring together, overwhelming you completely. Wincing from the pain in your head, you squeezed your eyes shut, bringing your hands up to press against your temple when you felt gentle hands on your shoulders.

Hey, hey, it's okay, doll. Look at me. You can hear my thoughts, right? Are you hearing me?

Once again, Bucky's voice was cutting across all the other conjoined words, and it felt like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a cave to hear Bucky's clear voice instead of the fuzzy whispers in your mind. You nodded your head to show that you could hear him.

You had no idea why Bucky's voice always reverberated loudest in your head, but you were grateful for it. You latched onto his voice like a lifeline and let his low murmurs of "it's okay, doll" pull you out of the spiral of thoughts. Slowly, the buzz of voices in your mind died back down to a whisper at the back of your consciousness and peeked your eyes open.

Bucky's gentle blue eyes were fixed on you, watching you with worry. A happy smile tugged at his lips when you refocus on him.

"There you are," he said, bringing his flesh hand to cup the side of your face. "Stay with me here, Y/N. Don't get lost in that pretty head of yours, doll."

Now that the panic had receded, you could properly focus on his charming words. A shy smile flitted across your lips, and you laughed softly, leaning into his warm hand.

"When did you get so bold, Mr. Barnes?"

He shrugged, grinning. "I've always thought it in my mind, doll. No use hiding them in my head if you can hear it anyways."

You smiled and leaned over the side of your bed to kiss his cheek, enjoying the way a blush lit up his face at the gesture.

"Well, don't keep those charming thoughts to yourself, Buck."

AN: So I'm back, but I can't promise I'll post any other new fics soon. It's getting closer to final weeks, and I'm stressing out. I got final projects due in a week, and I haven't even decided what to do, but hopefully I'll be fine 😬

If you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and comment, they always make my day seeing those! 🥰🖤

Main Masterlist

[ariddletobesolved]

Take a Shot, Take a Chance

Prompt by @ravinewreyn :

"Is that the best that you can do?"

Warning: Alcohol use. Drink responsibly, people!

Note: Look, I know this prompt is OLD, hence why this isn't posted in @written-by-ariddletobesolved, but I feel like finishing it so here we go. I do hope it's decent. Enjoy! ♥️

—

"Take a shot!"

"I can take three!"

"No way, Anna, that's too many."

"No, it's not! You're just weak, Elsa."

"Yes, Elsa, you're just weak."

Elsa looks around, eyes darting from Kristoff—her sister's boyfriend, to Anna—her sister, before settling on the auburn haired young man who happened to tag along with the group. Hans. The latter was smirking, and Elsa narrowed her eyes in distaste.

The four of them were sharing a round table in the corner of a crowded pub. It was supposed to be a weekly girl's night for the sisters, until Anna saw her boyfriend and one of his housemates there in the pub. Inviting Kristoff also means inviting Hans, there was no other choice which sounded like a torture for Elsa.

"Me, weak?" She scoffs. "Pfft, never!"

To say that Elsa doesn't like Hans is an understatement. She strongly dislikes him for a lot of reasons.

He is a spoiled and snobbish man child, who only cares about himself. He might be 25, but sometimes he acts like a 15 year old.

Hans shrugged. "Says the one who sprained her ankle after a few shots of vodka. It was like a double loss for you, Elsa."

At the reminder, Elsa scowled. She grew even more annoyed when the memory of her getting wasted the last time they went out flashed on her mind. Her blue eyes were on the wooden round table the four of them were sharing, glaring at the two rows of shot glasses containing clear liquor.

"Well, accidents happen. Besides, I already had a glass of Long Island Iced Tea that time before the game even started, so I had a good amount of booze in my system." She looked up, the corner of her mouth curving into a smirk. "Why, do you want a rematch?"

"Do you?"

"See, now you're scared of the potential loss, aren't you?"

Hans shook his head. "No, Elsa, I just don't want you to hurt yourself this time."

"Stop pretending that you care, Hans, it's so out of character."

There was a pause, and Elsa watched as something like hurt reflected on his eyes, only briefly, before he grinned. She frowned, not liking that look on his face, because that would mean Anna was right, that Hans might care about her more then he liked to admit.

"Alright then, whatever the queen says," Hans said, before downing one shot, prompting Elsa to do the same. "One."

"Are we playing by the same rules as before, that whoever drinks the most consecutive drinks in fifteen seconds wins, and the winner gets a week's worth of chocolate bars, yeah?" Anna said, eyeing the two competitors.

"Yes!"

"No!"

The two replied at the same time. Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Huh, why not?"

"I figured we should start slow, instead of fifteen seconds, what about thirty seconds?" He proposed, turning to Anna and Kristoff.

"Well, that can be arranged." Anna replied, flashing her sister a knowing smile, which was returned with a set of narrowed eyes. She then turned to her boyfriend and said, "Right, Kristoff?"

"That's fair." The blond guy nodded. "We have a lightweight in here."

"I am not!" Elsa scolded him.

Hans grinned, before adding, "Oh, and also, I propose the winner gets not only one week's worth of chocolate bars, but also something else." There was a mischievous smile at the end of the sentence, one that was enough to make Elsa roll her eyes.

"I swear if it's a prank-"

But before she could finish, Hans quickly said, "Go out with me." He then added, "It's a request."

The blonde was stunned, keeping her guard up as numerous thoughts ran through her head. Is he being serious? Stealing a glance at her sister, she caught a hint of 'told you so' on her face, and Elsa glared in return. Nope, he is not being serious, just like that time when he was offering her a ride home from the library. He loved to tease her, so there was no way he was being decent and well-intentioned.

Their eyes met, as Elsa observed him closely, amused and intrigued. Something told her she should just take a chance, so she did.

"Fine," she rolled her eyes.

The drinking game started with Kristoff preparing ten shots of vodka in front of each competitor. Hans led with seven shots in thirty minutes while Elsa, who was trying to get used to the burning sensation in her throat, only got to down five shots.

"Well, looks like I'm gonna win." Hans smirked, sliding his hand into his pocket. "Any plans on surrendering and just go out with me?"

"Not a chance. I propose we trade shots for beer, how does that sound?" Elsa raised an eyebrow.

Shots may not be her speciality, but she loves beer. She can probably get an upper hand on the next round.

"As long as we have shots and beer in the last round. Just because you can't take shots doesn't mean you can change the rules."

As if on cue, Kristoff and Anna came from the bar carrying two pints of beer each.

"Did anyone say beer?"

Elsa scowled when she saw her sister's teasing smile. "Ugh, fine, whoever finish these pints of beer first get to win this round. Then we have similar rules like the first round with beer and shots."

"Deal."

On the second round, Elsa didn't slack, finishing two pints like she's drinking water. Nine seconds. That was her record. By the time she put down the glass, the blond was all giggling at the fact that Hans was struggling to finish his second pint. Hans is not a beer guy.

"A tie." Elsa winked, body swaying as she began to feel the effect of alcohol in her system in just under thirty minutes.

"Oh, is that the best that you can do?"

"Nah, that's why we're starting the third round."

"No break, princess?"

"No!" Elsa scoffed, before pointing his finger at him. "And don't call me that."

Hans only chuckled, amused at her antics. She looked like an angry kitten, and he found it cute when she was scowling at him, pouting with a frown.

A pint of beer and three shots of vodka. By now Elsa was sure she had crossed her drinking number. She knew she should have stopped after two rounds, but there's no way she would surrender, to Hans no less. She wouldn't go down without a fight, and so she did. And she lost.

Her head started to pound when she downed the last shot, and Anna handed her a water bottle, helping her to sip from the bottle. It felt refreshing, yet the bitter taste remained on her tongue. Her face flushed, hot with drunkenness and embarrassment, when she way the teasing smile on Hans' face.

"Well, fuck." She muttered under her breath.

"Ouch, language, missy!" He grinned in triumphant. "I guess I'll see you next Saturday?"

"What choice do I have, really?"

"Aww, don't be like that, Elsa. I promise I'll make it memorable for you," he said as he leaned closer to her stool.

His emerald eyes glimmered under the dim light. He was so close, well, too close for her liking. She could smell his musky cologne, strong and expensive, it's the same scent in his car which she recalled from when he drove her home that one time. Her lips curved into a smile as she boldly traced her fingertips on the collar of his shirt, the fabric rough under her skin.

Leaning in, she whispered close to his ear, "Well, then, Hans, I'd like to see you try."

She probably needed to blame the alcohol because suddenly, taking a chance with him no longer sounded like a bad idea.

[constantviewings]

A (Not So) Weekly Wrap Up

What a great start to my 'comeback' by missing two weeks in a row... anyway!

Barbie

Barbie and Ken are having the time of their lives in the colorful and seemingly perfect world of Barbie Land. However, when they get a chance to go to the real world, they soon discover the joys and perils of living among humans.

I, like a lot of other people, love this movie. I understand that the feminism is quite shallow but I can excuse it because that's what Barbie (the character) needed to learn; as well as many viewers. I have eaten my words for doubting Ryan Gosling as Ken, I truely don't think anyone could have done better. I will admit that some of the jokes fall a little flat, noteably the 'Depression Barbie' bit felt a little too millenial for me. All round, an absolute must watch for me.

Rating: 5

Spider-Man Across the Spiderverse

Miles Morales is catapulted across the Multiverse, where he encounters the Spider Society, a team of Spider-People charged with protecting the Multiverse’s very existence. But when the heroes clash on how to handle a new threat, Miles finds himself pitted against the other Spiders and must set out on his own to save those he loves most.

We all know that I love Into the Spiderverse and I was ecstatic for the sequel while exercising saint-like patience waiting for the digital release as a precaution against the strobe effects (a pet peeve of mine). I went into this completely blind, so imagine my shock when it ended on that cliffhanger! Even though it's mostly setup for Beyond the Spiderverse (Sony please put it back on the release scehdule) it still has plenty of story and character development for me to forgive that. Daniel Kaluuya as Hobie was a stand-out for me as well as Karan Soni as Pavita Prabhakar. I will say, the live action bits stick out like a sore thumb...

Rating: 5

After Everything

Besieged by writer’s block and the crushing breakup with Tessa, Hardin travels to Portugal in search of a woman he wronged in the past – and to find himself. Hoping to win back Tessa, he realizes he needs to change his ways before he can make the ultimate commitment.

Here we are, the final After movie...yikes. Like the others, this movie is just a fun movie to put on and laugh at but this time we're in Portugal! Hardin is just as toxic and Tessa is barely in it, instead she is replaced by Nathalie (bless Mimi Keene) as another woman Hardin has victimised who's only role is to forgive him for something he hasn't grown from. I also want to point out the single best line from this movie in reference to a in-universe adaptation of Hardins book: "Harry Styles should play you in the movie." I had to take a break after that one...

Rating: -4

Moxie

Inspired by her mom's rebellious past and a confident new friend, a shy 16-year-old publishes an anonymous zine calling out sexism at her school.

Not much to say about this one, just felt like watching it. Similar to Barbie, it is a bit of an ABC's of feminism movie, but everyone's got to start somewhere so I dont' care.

Rating: -3

[kiridarling]

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄

d.kaminari and h.sero | f!reader + corruption + weed/shotguning + praise + threesome + more! minors dni!

— 3.6k words

"I knew I wanted you the second I saw you."

Denki’s addicted to the pre-concert high.

His veins hum with a song that has yet to start, fingers drumming some mixed beat on the body of his electric guitar as he assumes his place on the dark stage. The theater’s dead silent, the room suspended in a titilating anticipation—and the steady rhythm Denki's heart dissapates into chaos when the faint crack of Eijirou's drumsticks bounce off the walls, and the click in his earpiece begins.

Eijirou hits the kick drum once. Twice. Then his hands fly across the set in a flurry, the rolling beat echoing into the packed arena and spurring the crowd to explode, fans flying to their feet to render their vocal cords for the night.

As the other instruments fill the blank space, Denki's hand grips the back of his guitar's neck, on hold for his solo, and by the time the electric blond steps up to the mic, pavlov's theory has already kicked in overdrive.

"Who’s ready to feel good tonight?”

“Dude, I’m on fucking fire!” Denki vibrates, nearly glowing in comparison to his bandmates as they sift through a flurry of fans at a meet and greet. It always seems like Denki and Eijirou are the only ones with energy after a good show—but what can he say? Being on stage lights him up like a live wire.

"You said that last concert, buddy," Hanta snorts, before his a fan ran sacks his attention by shoving a tiara into his hairline.

"And? My point still stan—" Denki cuts himself off with a gasp as a bra slings across his face, followed by a burst of pain when the metal hits him in the cheek. He peels the lacy thing off with an eye on the audience and an eyebrow raised in question, unsure of what to do with the undergarment (other than put it on) until someone screams:

“Sign it!”

Denki shrugs and pops the Sharpie cap with his teeth to sign the crest of both cups before flinging it back into the audience—he can only pray it pinpoints its rightful owner before the meet and greet ends.

Katsuki clicks his tongue (because he hates these events) and as the next round of fans lineup in front of their table, Eijirou stretches like this is a sport, saying, “Guess it’s go-time.”

"Go-time is when we perform," Katsuki grumbles in the seat to Denki’s right. "Go-time is when we're in the studio makin' a goddamn album, not meeting crazy fuckin' fans—no, I’m not gonna marry you, you obsessed fuckin—“

“Oh, you're just salty you're not popular with the ladies~“ Denki gushes, wiggling his eyebrows, and a fan hands him a canvas the size of his upper body. “Un—oh wow, did you make this for me—Unlike me, of course.”

"Okay, pretty boy." Hanta rolls his eyes, before signing a phone case and returning it to an overzealous fan. With a hand covering his mouth, he whispers, “Can you believe this guy? So full of himself, I swear.”

The fan giggles and Hanta meets the blushing cheeks with a satisfied smirk. Denki huffs from the disrespect, crossing both arms over his chest. “Full of myself? It’s not my fault I’m sexy—*an autograph? Of course!"

Katsuki chuckles, scratching under his chin with ink blue fingertips, "Call yourself sexy one more fuckin’ time and I'm projectile vomiti—no, I'm not signing your tits, give me a goddamn paper or somethin—"

"What?” Denki scoffs, chest collapsing with the disbelief that one could make such a lie. “I'm literally the definition of I'm sexy and I kno—"

"Um, excuse me?"

His gesticulations freeze at the passive voice, arms stretched wide and to the sky, and Denki knows he has to look absolutely ridiculous as he blinks down at the next person in-line; who's stood with bambi eyes and such a sweet smile the electric blond thinks it might make him sick.

"I-I'm your biggest fan! Could you—um, please sign this for me?"

She comes alive, shoving a poster into his chest with pink cheeks and shifty irises. Out of all the bras, all the breasts he's been asked to sign today, and here you are, with your pocket-sized poster and your lamb countenance. Denki beams.

"Of course, Sweetness! What's your name?"

"[Y/N]!" you say, giggling, and it's so. Cute. Denki opens the Sharpie and struggles to focus on signing instead of your gorgeous fucking face.

"Anything specific you'd like me to say?"

And he knows there's a rule—there always are when it comes to these things, and it's simple: don't fuck the fans. As tempting as it is, don't invite them back to your hotel room because there are too many uncertainties, and if something leaks to the press that’s possibly career ending, that’s it. So, Denki holds his tongue. For the future of himself and the band.

"Uhm, just write what you want! I...I think I'd like it best if it was authentic and came straight from you, so."

Fuck. Of course she does.

And maybe Denki just can't help it when he leans down to speak, perhaps a little lower, "You want something more authentic, cutie?"

You light up like a kid on Christmas, gasping, "Yes please Mr. Kaminari!"

So eager, too.

"Awe, you can call me Denki if you'd like," he coos, and you nod so quickly he starts to worry about whiplash. "Meet me out back, in the alley behind the venue if you wanna get to know me better. Sound like a deal?”

"O-Okay!" You nod, and when he returns your sign you grip it tight between both hands. "I'll um, see you soon Mr. Kami—I mean, D-Denki!"

You flush from the mix up and bow in apology, and Denki knows he's made the right choice when you light up, indicating you have no idea what he meant at all.

"Row row row your boat, gently down the stream," you hum, sniffling. You’re unsure if your nose is running, it's too frozen to tell, and it has you patting to confirm it’s presence. With your hands stuffed in your pockets and a jacket wrapped tight around your body, you'd think you'd be warm, but no.

The alley is dark. It's dank enough that you can smell it and you're positive what you're dancing in is vomit, but none the matter—today, you met your favorite band. Literally the people you'd die for.

"Merrily, merrily," kicking the loose rocks in the gravel every which way, you enjoy the sound of them scattering against the surrounding brick walls. "Merrily, merrily..."

"Life is but a dream," a voice finishes, a yelp rips from your throat and you jump twenty feet in alarm. But you’d know that voice anywhere; Denki chuckles at your reaction and it has you recoiling with timidity, unprepared for the surprised audience. "You have a lovely voice, Cutie. You should use it more often."

"I..." but you're not exactly sure what to say to that, knowing Denki's heard so many professional voices in his career to last a lifetime, and yet yours is lovely. "T-Thank you."

Denki watches your reaction with a hum and a smile, his visible breath escaping between the slit of his lips and into the cool air.

"Of course, Cutie."

Another voice sighs, shattering the friction that fills your gut when Denki gives you that look. You're not sure what to call it, but it makes you shiver, and that's enough to make you to run and hide.

"...Denki, who's this?"

"Um," the blond places his frozen hands in his pockets and swivels his head around to Hanta, guilty written all over his face. "A fan?"

Hanta sighs again, head tilting to the right in exhausperation, “Denki—"

"I know, I know," the electric blond sighs, waving him off. "But it's fine as long as we don't get caught, right?"

Hanta's black hair threatens to fall into his face so he combs through it, and you try not to drool at the sight of his bicep flexing. "Yeah, until we get caught."

A honk blares and it has you shrieking, to reveal a parked tour bus in the alley once the lights flicker on. Denki points the car keys at the vehicle and the doors swing open. "Awe c'mon, don't be a sour puss. It's a one-time thing, alright?"

Hanta's eyes narrow into slits.

"Seriously, dude! I'm a man of my word! On God."

The noirette's shoulders sag, but he waltzes around both of you to get on the bus. Over his shoulder, he warns, "Denki I swear to fucking god—"

"I'll be careful, I'll be careful~" he singsongs, hopping onto the stairs after the pianist. When Denki notices not you're not moving, he stills at the top step. "You coming, [Y/N]?"

"O-Oh, am I um, am I allowed?" You ask, biting your cheek at the thought of what Hanta just said as you peer around the electric blond’s body. Denki snorts, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, you're allowed," he exits the bus, only to tug you on via your collar. "Now c'mon! Let's have some fun, yeah?"

"Okay!"

Denki steers you through the bus and into a space that looks a bit like a living room, with a couch, tv, and a makeshift kitchen in the corner. Following Denki to the kitchen, you look around.

"Where are Kirishima and Bakugou?"

"Out drinking," Denki tosses, flicking open a RedBull. You wonder if this is always the post-concert routine. Hanta fiddles in with something on the couch, but he still has yet to look you in the eyes tonight, even when you ask him:

"What are you doing?"

It seems he didn't realize you’ve relocated from the kitchen to the couch next to him from the noirette nearly jumps. The green stuff in his fingers crumbles, and you scrunch your nose at the smell.

"It stinks," you add. Denki snorts, jumping onto the cushion to your right. There isn’t a whole lot of room and his addition causes your shoulders to slush between the two of them, but it’s strangely comfortable.

"It's weed," he explains like it's obvious. "You smoke, Cutie?"

"Obviously not," you and Hanta say at the same time. You turn his way, and for the first time that night, Hanta looks you in the eyes—and it's a smile, with his eyes crinkling in the corners, but there's...something else. Something else hidden behind the thinnest veil that makes you cower, if ever so slightly.

Something feral.

Denki, unaware of the crushing grip your hand has around your thigh, huffs, and tosses the energy drink down his gullet, "It was a genuine question! Geez."

"What are you doing?" You ask again, and the electric blond whimpers from being ignored.

"Rolling a joint," he utters, lifting the paper to his lips to lick the length. You watch, semi-disgusted, as Hanta finally folds over the last bit of paper around the crest of the joint, gluing it together.

"Know what a joint is?" The noirette implores.

"Yeah," you breathe, shifting at the new closeness Denki provides when you feel his chest against your back. "My roommate smokes, so."

Hanta taps it on a tray, or what Denki describes as "packing it down," before twisting the tip and tossing it back onto the tray in conclusion. Denki cheers.

"Aha! The joint-rolling master has blessed us! Everyone say thank you, joint-rolling master."

"Thank you, joint-rolling master!" You giggle when Hanta's face turns a ruddy red. He reaches over to pop Denki upside the head. Denki gasps, before lunging to return the favor, and you squeal from being jostled between two men.

"Okay," when Denki returns to his seat he's panting and so is the noirette. He picks the joint off the tray and though there isn't much room, turns so he's facing you, your legs smushed against his body indian style. "You ready, Cutie?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," you huff, swinging your arms in preparation despite the lack of space. Just in case.

Hanta snorts, holding the joint to your lips, and Denki raises the lighter and raises it to the end until it's hot enough to burn on its own.

“Now suck."

You do, cheeks puffing, and you blow the smoke straight in Denki's face. It's...a lot.

"Not quite," Hanta chuckles, and flips you via the waist so you're facing him. Denki whines from the change but finds solace in hooking his chin over your shoulder. "Suck, and then inhale. Act like it's a big breath—you gotta hold it in your lungs for a sec."

"Okay," you assert with a nod, eyes burning with a new determination. When Hanta holds it to your lips, you suck and inhale, and start coughing your throat raw, in a flurry of smoke and tears, eyes watering and nose burning. You scramble for water, but by the time you get some, the only thing that's left to soothe is a sore throat.

"Here," Denki offers, grabbing the joint before flipping you his way again. "Take smaller hits, like this."

Denki's mouth wraps around the tip and smoke pours from his lips so smoothly you're determined to do the same. With a raised eyebrow, he passes it back to you, and though it takes a moment, you try again.

The back of your throat tingles but the glide is much smoother, and you find that it doesn't burn on your next exhale. So you do it again. And again. And agai—

"Okay," Hanta picks the joint from your fingers with a click of his tongue, before taking a hit himself. You frown, making grabby hands.

"Hey, wai—"

"Nu-uh," he tuts, pushing you down by your forehead. "You'll feel it soon enough, trust me."

You whine, crossing your arms over your chest. Hanta gives you nothing but a raised eyebrow as he takes another hit, and you're convinced it's to taunt you. "I'm not eve—"

But then the world blurs, a bit, and your legs hum in a way they haven't before; it's warm and it's nice, and it has you blinking down at your hands in bewilderment. Whoa.

"And there she goes," Denki announces, and somehow seized the joint from the noirette when you weren't looking. Your mouth drops to say something, but all you can produce is a light giggle before it melts into a guffaw that only comes straight from the gut, your hands trying to soothe your cramping belly. Tears come to your eyes fairly easily, and when Hanta asks if you're okay he sounds like he's underwater, and that's enough to send you flying through another fit of laughs.

"I—y-yeah, I'm just—just fine," you snort behind a hand, chest spasming as you finally gather yourself enough to calm down. "I'm good. Mhm."

"Yep. Totally fine," Hanta says, but something in his tone suggests he doesn't believe you at all.

You nod, biting your bottom lip to avoid another laugh attack with your hands bunching the bottom of your shirt for extra purchase. Hanta narrows his eyes while taking another hit, so you sock him in the shoulder with a huff. "Stop looking at me like that."

The noirette snorts, "Like what?"

"Like..." you start strong, but falter under his eyes. "Like you want to eat me."

Hanta hums at the comment but says nothing, and you're not sure if your mind fabricated the quick look he gives the electric blond sat behind you. Denki speaks first.

"Do you know what shotgunning is, [Y/N]?"

You frown, "Like a shotgun?"

"So no," Hanta answers for you.

"Here," Denki offers, turning you again. Plucking the nub of a joint from the noirette, he takes a big hit before picking your face up by the jaw and hovering your lips over yours. You're not sure what to do, but once your lips connect, smoke fills your lungs, and you don't exhale until Denki pulls away. You blink, a little dazed.

You just kissed Denki Kaminari.

"Feel good?" He asks, never leaving your personal space. You nod, and he grins. "Wanna do it again?"

Your hands fist his shirt, teeth tearing the inside of your cheek due to the amount of embarrassment this question encourages. "I wan—can we do it again but without the um...without the smoke?"

Denki's hands find your hips and it's hard for him to contain a sly smirk, biting his lips to move in on his prey.

"I knew I waned you the second I saw you."

Denki's lips feel much better when he puts a little weight into the kiss, pinning you between him and the noirette. You're not exactly sure what you're doing but he takes the lead, titling his head and kissing harder, rougher, so your lips are pink and swollen by the time he pulls away.

"A-Another," you whimper, tightening your grip around his tee.

Denki hums in contemplation, picking your head up by your chin. "Ask nicely, Cutie."

Flushing deeper, your eyes dart to the coffee table.

“Another, please."

"Good girl," Denki coos, and he's propping you up against Hanta's chest. You shiver at the comment, finding purchase on Hanta's thighs as Denki kisses you on the lips again. "Wanna feel even better?"

"Yes," you nod vehemently. "Yes please."

Denki hums at that, climbing down your body as his hands glide from your waist to the band of your pants. You frown, "What—What are you doing?"

"Eating you out, Cutie," the electric blond says, hands freezing once his thumbs dip under your waistband. "That okay?"

"Oh okay," you breathe, relaxing against Hanta's chest. "Y-Yeah, that's fine."

Denki rips your pants off at that, tossing them towards the corner of the room and ultimately, to a place you'll probably never find them. Pushing your panties to the side, he licks his lips at the sight of your pussy, and flicks your clit with a smirk. You jump.

"H-Hey, that's not—"

He flattens his tongue against your slit and chuckles when you shudder, and after tossing both of your legs over his shoulders. You're not sure what he does after that though, because Hanta picks your face up by the chin and presses his lips to yours.

Denki slides a finger inside and you squeal against Hanta's chapped lips. You hear the electric blond moan, readjusting himself between your thighs, before you finally peel your lips off the noirette's, chest having from lack of oxygen.

"Such a pretty pussy, Baby," Denki gushes before his warm lips fold around your clit and he sucks, humming in surprise when you buck against his mouth. Hanta hooks his chin around your shoulder with a second joint dangling between his lips—and where it came from is beyond you.

Once he exhales, the joint finds its way between your lips and he instructs you to inhale, and the head rush afterwards has you digging your head into his chest.

"You're so wet, holy shit," Denki pulls away, lips strawberry pink and glossed with slick as he trades his both for his thumb and inserting another finger. It crooks just right and that's enough to make your hips buck, nails carving crescents in Hanta's thighs.

“T-There,” you whimper, wiggling your hips again, and Denki grins, thumb pressing into your clit. Your thighs quiver with the strain it takes to hold them back and Hanta’s calloused hands skip to your waist after dropping the burning joint off in the tray.

“Pull his hair,” the noirette commands, but you hesitate, hands glued to his thighs. Hanta sighs, reaching over you to tug for himself.

“Mph—fuck!” Denki’s eyelids flutter as he moans into your pussy with a new passion, his hands wrapping around your thighs to hold you in place. You gasp at his reaction, fingers scrambling under Hanta’s own to thread through his electric blond hair.

“Move your hips—grind against his face, c’mon,” Hanta’s grip tightens around your waist as he offers the suggestion, and you whimper with a nod before your bucking into Denki’s mouth without abandon. As the noirette trails butterfly kisses up the column of your neck, the coil in your gut snaps, and you barely have time to squeak out a warning before you’re flooding Denki’s mouth.

“Good girl...ride it out—there you go,” Hanta coos, biting your ear. You shiver as Denki pulls away with a final (and obscene) slurp, grinning like he didn’t just shatter you to pieces with nothing but his tongue and fingers.

Denki’s lips are on yours in a blink—you moan, legs still buzzing from the afterglow as you weakly grope for the small hairs on the back of his neck.

“Taste good, don’t ya?” He says with a click of a tongue after pulling away.

“I guess so,” you flush, the humiliation from so shamelessly digging your heels into Denki’s back finally settling in. Hanta reaches under your arm for Denki’s chin.

“What? Want a taste too?” The electric blond giggles, wiggling his eyebrows. Hanta snorts.

“If you could be so kind.”

Denki hums at that, placing a hand on your inner thigh for balance as he slams his lips on the noirette’s for the first time that night. He dives straight for the kill, tongue and teeth and everything, and Denki moas when Hanta’s teeth sink into his bottom lip; you find that you like it a lot.

Though eventually you tired of watching, and press the heel of your hand on Hanta’s hard cock through the fabric of his jeans. The pianist hisses, and you grin—you’ve got their attention now.

“Whoa Sweetheart, what are y—“

“I...I want more,” you assert despite the tremor in your voice. Hanta raises an eyebrow in question which has you pressing harder in hopes he’ll cave just as easily as before. Just in case, you add, “Please.”

Denki redirects your attention by squishing your cheeks until you’re looking him in the eyes. With dark eyes, he says, “You sure you want more, Cutie?”

You nod despite the restriction, “Wanna...wanna get to know you better.”

You watch Denki’s pupils dialate at that, and he can’t even hold back a groan when he says:

“Gods, Baby. We’re going to ruin you.”

unpopular opinion: bakugou's the bassist and kirishima's the drummer. fight me.

not me projecting 12yo sun's fantasy of getting railed in the tour bus by 5sos um—

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Hidden (Kim Hongjoong) Rated

Pairing: Soccer Jock! Kim Hongjoong (Ateez)× Nerd! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Slight Angst, College AU.

Summary: There's nothing that makes Hongjoong feel better after a game than to spend it with his secret girlfriend.

Word Count: 3.5+K

Warnings: male breast play (we love the hiddies), light gropings, dry humping, light degradation, corruption kink, unprotected soft, vanilla sex (always use protection), dom! Hongjoong, sub/slightly inexperienced reader.

Taglist: @seacottons (I wrote this for you ♡), @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @galaxteez @hanatiny @deja-vux @brie02 @multidreams-and-desires @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny

•––––☆––––���––––☆––––•––––☆––––•

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause and cheers when their prized center forward kicked the ball with full force into the opposing team's goal, effectively allowing them to take victory over another college from the area. His teammates hoisted the bleach blonde male over their shoulders, parading him around the field and letting the spectators admire him once more. The athlete shyly smiled and gave tiny waves towards the crowd. His eyes passed through all the rows of people standing about, searching and scanning for a particular person he hoped would come to see him.

Once he spotted a familiar red plain hoodie tucked near the very end of the bleachers, his smile grew even wider and he even felt bold enough to send a wink their way, the tiny group of admirers sitting nearby mistakenly thinking it was directed at them. The figure in the hoodie tried not to let any suspicious look give her away, but even she couldn't stop the faint pink hue that appeared on the apples of her cheeks. He mouthed a few words to her, which she understood to mean for her to wait for him at a certain place while he went to go get changed. Quickly picking up her bag, she made way to step down the bleachers, but unfortunately for her the little group of popular girls had the same idea, thus ending in one of them bumping into her rather harshly and sending her crashing down onto the concrete stairs that allowed one to get out of the spectator area.

The soccer player of course saw this and slightly hissed when he watched her palms come out instinctively to lessen her fall, only imagining the stinging sensation they went through. He then turned his attention to the tiny clique leader who looked completely unapologetic, her mouth saying something that he couldn't quite make out, but judging from the way her little minions snickered and laughed, he deduced it was only another one of the usual jabs they liked to fling at the poor girl. And he hated it, the scowl clearly visible on his face. Just when he was about to turn around and give them a piece of his mind, the victim looked up and gestured for him not to intervene and just run along to the showers. He hesitated briefly until she once again assured him she was fine, getting up and quickly escaping before another accident occurred.

Left with no choice but to follow her instructions, the soccer player joined the others in the showers to freshen up after a long and arduous game. He made sure to be quick about it, as he wanted to go check up on her injuries as soon as possible. After drying off completely, he stuffed all his belongings into his bag without caring to check if he was crushing anything and sped out of there. Along the way to the place where he parked his car, he only waved at his fellow classmates and belatedly ignored the prissy bullies that caused the incident back at the bleachers.

"Snakes." He mumbled to himself as he passed by them.

Rounding a tiny corner of the building, he took out his keys and unlocked his car, looking around in confusion when he didn't see the person he was expecting anywhere nearby. Hearing a tiny rustling of leaves, he rolled his eyes when he finally realized they were hiding behind the hedge that decorated the stairs that led one inside the building.

"There's no one else around, now come out of there before the groundskeeper finds out you were messing up his artistic shrubbery." He called out as he walked over to the hedge.

Peeping her head out, the girl looked right then left to make sure he wasn't lying before throwing one leg over the green barrier, trying to get out. It definitely proved more difficult getting out than getting in, as her foot accidentally got stuck when she tried to swing her other leg out. She grunted softly as she tried to yank her foot out, which she eventually accomplished but with how hard she pulled she was thrown off balance. Had the male behind her not have run up to catch her, she would have surely hit her head on the floor. Luckily he had indeed caught her before such tragedy occurred. Looking up, his unamused face was bearing down on her.

"Thanks?" She sheepishly said.

"Don't mention it honey bunch." He snorted when she frowned at one of the many nicknames he enjoyed teasing her with.

"Don't start now Kim Hongjoong." She grumbled with a huff as she sat upright.

When she turned around, she had no chance to say or do anything as he took her hands and made her palms face him. Hongjoong sighed when he saw the tiny scrapes on her fragile skin.

"I'll be fine. It's just a scratch." She asserted before he got anymore upset.

"These 'scratches', and the mean names, wouldn't happen at all if only you'd let people know about us."

She recoiled slightly at his words. He was right, she knew that. Still, she was hesitant about letting the entire school know about their secret relationship, something that he was more than eager about sharing. But he respected her need and wanting of privacy, even if it irritated slightly at times.

"I'll be fine Hongjoong. Really... their words don't bother me anymore. And besides, I'd rather not have all eyes at me at every moment. I like being an invisible wallflower." She repeated what she often said.

He understood her, but couldn't help the sigh that came out his lips.

"Honestly L/N Y/N, I don't know what to do with you sometimes." He confessed as he turned her palms over, his eyes focusing on her left hand. Or more precisely, on the black promise ring that was wrapped around her left finger. He smiled softly as he rubbed his thumb over it, knowing that on the inside of it, his name was engraved in white, followed by his birthstone in the shape of a heart. He wore a similar one around his neck, held up by chain that dangled right above his chest, close to his heart. Only the one he wore was a white band and had his lover's name in black with her own birthstone on it. It was a present he had bought for their 1 year anniversary, which had happened not too long ago. Every time he saw her wear it, he felt a warm and tranquil feeling in his soul. He himself never took off the chain off his neck, only when he needed to shower and even then, he made sure to never misplace it.

It was a somewhat nostalgic feeling, standing there, holding her hands kinda like the first time he worked up the courage to come up to her and state his interest in dating her. Even to that day, he couldn't believe she would have actually agreed. He was so happy and full of bliss at having her that he couldn't help himself as he closed his eyes and began leaning his face towards hers. His girlfriend widened her eyes and let out a muffled shriek before pulling away from him. Hongjoong grunted angrily as he walked after her towards his car.

"It's not a crime to kiss my girlfriend in public you know." He exclaimed.

"Someone might see us." She kindly reminded him.

Throwing his hands up in frustration, Hongjoong was about to start nagging but opted for taking a deep breath instead to calm down.

"Ok fine, but once we get behind closed doors, I'm expecting a lot of cuddles and smooches from you. You've been giving me the cold treatment at school even beyond what we agreed on and I'm slightly hurt." He pouted as he turned on the ignition.

Shaking her head, Y/N leaned over and placed a peck on Hongjoong's cheek.

"Ok you baby. Only because you were amazing on the field today."

•––––☆––––•––––☆––––•––––☆––––•

Safe in the sanctuary and privacy of her apartment, Y/N couldn't hold herself back now as she tangled her limbs around her boyfriend, face pressed against his chest. Hongjoong couldn't stop himself from snorting when he felt her cheek rubbed against one of his protruding pectoral muscles. The arm that was stationed around her frame came up to lightly scratch the back of her head.

"Having fun there you cuddle bug?" He raised an eyebrow at her when she snuggled closer to him.

"Hmmm yeah. Your man boobs make such comfortable pillows." She beamed as she reached one hand up to caress the muscle that her face wasn't buried in.

"They are not boobs Y/N. We've been over this how many times?" He dropped his head back onto the pillow as he released an exhausted and frustrated groan.

Feeling a bit on the bolder side that evening, Y/N shifted her weight over so she was fully laying on top of him.

"If they're not boobs, how come I can do this?"

Hongjoong half gasped- half moaned when he felt his girlfriend's mouth part and latched onto one of his highly sensitive nipples. Of course his girlfriend took advantage of this little fact, suckling onto his skin in a tender manner. Hongjoong lost himself in the feeling of her tongue flicking at his hardened peaks, closing his eyes as she kept on enveloping his buds with her warm mouth, first one breast then moving to the other one. This time her suction was a little more rough, teeth baring to lightly bite on the skin around his nipple. Hongjoong obviously didn't mean and was thoroughly enjoying the more harsher treatment as he began bucking his hips up against hers, his tent brushing against her folds which were only covered by her cotton underwear.

Satisfied at being able to rile her boyfriend up, Y/N sat up with a smirk as she peered down at Hongjoong's dazed look. Before he could get a word out, his girlfriend begin grinding herself against his bulge, her hands steadying themselves on his lean but firm abs. Hongjoong looked up at her, his eyes glowing with the same lust that mirrored in her own. Not able to bear to leave her in charge, his hands came up to grip her hips, forcing her to stop momentarily before they started taking control of her movements. He guided her so every time her clothed mound would rub against his tent they would both feel the best friction between them. Not only was he in full control of her body rolls, he made sure to lift his hips up so she would feel him even more. The air around them thickened as their sexual tension grew more and more, their once soft sighs turning more into heavy panting as they both waited for the other one to give in and say they wanted more than just the semi clothed dry humping they were currently doing.

Y/N knew fully well Hongjoong wouldn't say anything, it was in his nature. He'd just keep donning that signature smirk he was hailing at her at the moment as he continued to grind himself up at her. She knew he wanted her to tell him how much she wanted him, as a form of payback for not acknowledging him back at the university. She wanted to play at his game, keep her mouth shut and even get off him only to leave him frustrated and aching. But she had no will or mind to do that. Not when her body yearned for his, cried out to have him pin her to the bed as he tore through her intimate places. She couldn't hold back any longer, her bottom lip was starting to hurt from how hard she was biting down on it.

"What's wrong babygirl? Something on your mind? Do you want something?" He teased her as he moved his hands to cup her ass, fingers digging into her flesh and brushing against the hem of her panties.

"Hongjoong... I want...I want.." Even after having done this quite a few times, she was still very nervous and shy about requesting such things from him.

"Use your words darling, I know you can use them. After all, you're the smartest person in school. So tell me...."

Sitting up so he could lean his face close to hers, Hongjoong brushed his lips against hers, replacing her teeth with his own as he tugged at the corner where she had been biting on just a few seconds ago.

"What do you want?" He asked once more, hands going underneath her shirt so they could fondle her perky breasts, a satisfied grin lightly appearing on his face when he discerned the subtle whine that came from her throat.

"You, I want you." She finally answered, her arms wrapping around his neck as she closed the space between them and kissed him passionately.

Their tongues tangled themselves together in a desperate and slightly sloppy fashion. Flipping their positions, Hongjoong carefully laid Y/N down on the mattress, never once breaking their kiss even when his hand dropped down to tug her underwear down her legs. She helped him out by lifting her hips up and was about to pull the hoodie over her head, but Hongjoong stopped her.

"No baby. Keep it on. You look more adorable wearing my clothes." Briefly pulling away from her, he had a cocky smile as he rid himself out of his own boxers.

"Even if I do enjoy taking them off you." He admitted with no shame, which didn't surprise her.

Prying her legs open so he could fit himself between them, Hongjoong peppered butterfly kisses across her forehead and temples, sighing blissfully as he aligned himself at her entrance.

"I love you." He always made sure to state those 3 words before they got lost in their love.

"I know. I love you too." She responded.

Satisfied at hearing his confession being reciprocated, Hongjoong slowly pushed himself inside her, always taking care to be gentle as his lovely girlfriend wasn't as experienced as he was. He let her walls adjust to the intrusion of his member as he busied himself by kissing along the side of her neck and near her jaw while his thumbs rubbed circles on her waist. Y/N took a deep breath and lightly tapped his arm, a sign for him to start moving.

Hongjoong started off with slow and deep strokes, making sure to angle his hips properly so his head would brush against that sweet spot that would have the girl underneath him crying out his name. Y/N's eyes dropped down to look in between their bodies, always fascinated by the image of Hongjoong's cock disappearing inside her. One of her hands came up and slid underneath her covered stomach, a soft gasp escaping her lips when she felt her boyfriend's bulge poke out from under her skin. Noticing this, Hongjoong chuckled softly.

"You like that baby? Like feeling my cock deep inside of you?"

She could only respond with a light nod of her head as she released a faint moan that turned louder when Hongjoong abruptly slammed back into her at a quicker pace.

"You feel so good around me love. You're so tight, warm, and soft- fuck! I can't get enough of you." He hissed as he continued to roll his hips into her.

Y/N loved hearing him say things like that to her. Hearing him say how much he wanted her, it turned her into puddy. However, there was something she had been meaning to ask him to try but didn't know how to approach the topic. Figuring it was the best opportunity then, she looked up at him with large eyes.

"Hongjoong? Can we try something tonight?"

His eyes instantly lit up when she asked that, always eager to satisfy anything she was curious about or wanted to try.

"Of course. Anything you want." He assured her.

"Then can you..... can you degrade me a little?"

Hongjoong suddenly stopped moving and blinked at her with a worried expression on his face. Y/N wondered if maybe she shouldn't have asked that given his reaction. She watched as Hongjoong's bottom lip poked out in a light pout.

"Baby why on earth would you want something like that?" He tilted his head at you.

"I just.... I want you to call me your bad girl." She muttered softly, feeling embarrased at declaring that.

Hongjoong let out a heavy sigh as he cupped her cheeks and squished her face.

"But you're not a bad girl darling. You're my good girl. My sweet, kind and obedient angel who doesn't misbehave or cause trouble." He reasoned with her as he planted his lips on her cheek.

Y/N let out a tiny huff as she began to think she would not be getting what she was hoping for.

"That's what everybody else thinks....don't they?" She could hear and feel the shift in Hongjoong's mood, confirmed even further when he suddenly clasped her wrists and pinned them above her head as he started moving once again, only this time it was a more rough and fast pace. He stared down at Y/N with a hungry gaze, tongue poking out to lick his lips as he slammed his hips deeper in her.

"Got everybody in school fooled thinking you're such a goody two shoes, little miss perfect who is oh so sweet, innocent and pure, has never even kissed anyone."

Hongjoong smirked mischievously, pausing briefly before continuing.

"How do you think they'll react when they found out I ruined you? What will they say about the fact you opened your legs for me and allowed me to steal your virginity?"

Y/N threw her head back against the pillow and groaned loudly. It was true, she had let Hongjoong take away her purity a few months back. It wasn't anything she regretted, she loved and trusted him enough to give herself up to him, and she knew the feeling was mutual with him. And now to have him use that against her at that moment, to remind her of it, it felt amazing.

"What will your parents say? Their perfect daughter not only dating behind their back but actually letting her boyfriend stay over with her and fuck her into the sheets. Bet they'd be mad, bet they'll hate me for tainting their precious little angel." He laughed in a mocking tone.

Y/N's moaning now turned to whining and whimpering, her legs wrapping around Hongjoong's waist when the unrelenting tempo of his thrusts was threatening to throw her over the edge. Hongjoong knew this too given he felt everytime she clenched around his shaft, her walls squeezing onto him as if her life depended on it. He muffled his raspy pants when his lips attacked her mouth once more, his pecks aggresive and teeth nipping at her bottom lip.

"And so many guys will be jealous. You don't know but I've overheard even some of my teammates whisper about how they wanted to rob you of your innocence. Hell, I know for a fact even some of the professors wanted to shove their cocks inside your little pussy." As he dished out those tiny secrets she never knew about, Hongjoong's pounding became more harsh and he snarled with jealousy at the thought of anyone else looking at his prized possession in an erotic way.

Y/N clung onto him as she was on the brink of topping over, nails raking along his back.

"But they'll never get a chance because you're mine. All mine. This pussy of yours is mine. I claimed it a while back and only I get to fuck it. It's mine..... you're mine."

Unable to contain herself anymore, Y/N softly cried out Hongjoong's name as her body started twitching underneath his, face heating up as her juices pooled down her body. With only a few more strokes, Hongjoong himself was shooting his own cum into her, letting out shaky breaths that matched hers, their bodies collapsing on the bed as they tried to recover from the orgasm they just had.

After a few minutes and with his heartbeat back to normal, Hongjoong looked over at the girl beside him. Taking her hand, he held her arm up and aligned it with his so that the matching couple tattoos they got the month before would connect. It was a rather simple and subtle design, both of their wrists decorated with a beach wave that to anyone else wouldn't look out of place or arouse suspicions, but when they held it against each other, the waves formed a heart, which was exactly what Hongjoong was admiring at the moment. Rolling her over so she was facing him, he grabbed her leg and wrapped it around his waist so it would be easier to slip himself back inside the warmth of her walls. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, both of their eyes closing as they began to drift into a serene sleep, safe in each other's arms.

"I love you munchkin." He giggled when her hand smacked his chest.

"Don't start or else you're sleeping on the couch."

[rolandtowen]

three times Zuko comes into the Jasmine Dragon coffee shop, and one time Sokka leaves with him. Set in the Neurodiverse Zukka AU, but can read as a standalone.

*banging pots and pans together* "Come over here and get yall Neurodiverse Zukka!"

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut!

TW: discussions of skin picking and implied child abuse

i.

When Sokka pulls into the parking lot of the Jasmine Dragon, he is unsurprisingly the first car there. Being a freshman in town means getting the worst pick of shifts at local businesses. Sokka was hired on to work the opening shift, which means he wakes up at the ungodly hour of 5am to open the shop before the first round of sleep-deprived college students comes in. The pay isn't bad, Mr. Iroh is an incredibly fair man,

The bell on the door jingles on his way in, and he flips several light switches on, watching as the coffee shop slowly comes to life. He busies himself with getting the beans for the day grinding, pulling his first shot and dialing in the expresso. When he takes a sip, the espresso is spot on for the day, which is a relief. Having to make adjustments as customers start filing in is a nightmare.

Today's brew is floral and citrusy, so he decides to make himself and iced lavender latte - with oat milk, of course, because he's gotta do it for the gays - and he spends the next 20 minutes setting out pastries and fiddling with the display cases, making everything look perfect.

At 6am sharp, Sokka unlocks the front door and flips their sign to open, before retreating behind the bar to nurse his latte. Not even five minutes later, the door bell jingles, and Sokka sees a flash of dark hair, face obscured by a pile of textbooks and binders. The figure runs into one table, and then another, and Sokka is rushing out from behind the counter. He gets there just before textbooks go toppling everywhere, his hands taking a firm hold of the top bundle. As he pulls the books into his arms, he sees the face behind them.

Breathtaking golden eyes.

And.. a massive burn scar.

"Hi!" Sokka says, "I'm the barista on shift today - my name's Sokka." He would reach his hand for the other man to shake, but for the stack of textbooks in them.

Golden Eyes smiles.

"I'm Zuko, Zuko Sozin," he says, setting his remaining textbooks on the table by his side. Sokka follows suit.

"Hey, I think I've seen you before - are you taking Piandao's Intro to Biology class?"

"Uh, yeah - yeah! You sit a few rows in front of me." Zuko laughs. "Your doodles are uh, something alright."

Sokka knocks him good-naturedly on the shoulder. "I gotta keep my hands busy for my brain to focus." He looks down at the stack of books on the table. "What on earth are you studying, to have that many books?"

"Uh, Biology and Chemistry double-major, Pre-Med track." Sokka's eyes widen. "It's really not that much! I got a bunch of stuff out of the way with AP credits."

Sokka raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, it is a lot - but I'm really passionate about it. I want to be a doctor."

"Well, Dr. Sozin, what can I get started for you today?"

"Can I get a iced matcha, with a lot of honey?"

Sokka raises his other eyebrow. "A doctor with a sweet tooth?"

"Kind of?"

"Don't worry, I won't rat you out to your dentist. An iced matcha with extra honey?" Zuko nods and Sokka smiles. "You got it, doc."

ii.

Sokka falls into a routine at the Jasmine Dragon. He opens the shop every morning, and every morning of the fall semester so far, Zuko Sozin comes in at precisely 6:05am. Zuko will order an iced matcha with honey, and sits at a table by the window with his laptop and at least two textbooks open at all times. Then, at 11:50am - Sokka guess he has a class that starts at noon - Zuko leaves the shop, always making sure to throw his spare change into Sokka's tip jar.

He's so beautiful.

On a slow day, Sokka comes out from behind the safety of the counter and works up the courage to ask Zuko if he can study with him. Zuko looks shocked at first, but his lips quirk up in a smile as he gestures for Sokka to sit in the chair across from him, moving his textbooks to make room for Sokka's one book and laptop.

"What are you studying, Sokka?" Zuko appears to be genuinely interested.

"Oh, uh, social work, with a concentration in mental health." Sokka waits for Zuko to laugh at him. It never comes. He looks up at him over their laptops.

"That's really cool."

"You think so?"

"Yeah! I mean, some pre-med majors can be really pretentious, really dismissive of mental illness, but um - not me. I don't really have that luxury." Zuko laughs, as though at a joke with himself. "What's the Intro to Biology for, then?"

"Not all of us got our common core out of the way with AP credits, like some nerd I know." Zuko smiles at that, and looks back down at his laptop screen.

Sokka pulls his keys from his pocket and starts fidgeting with the stim toy he keeps on his keychain as he reads through his latest assignment for his Mental Illness and Society class. He bought it on Etsy, relieved to find a neurodivergent-owned shop after scrolling through a lot of stores that just seemed to be hopping on the 'trend' of selling fidget toys. He flips to the next page in his textbook, popping the buttons back and forth in a steady rhythm. He remembers Zuko's sitting across from him and stops abruptly.

"Is this annoying? Do you want me to stop?"

Zuko just cocks his head. "Why would I get a say in what you do? It's kind of your shop, right?"

"Um, to be polite?" Sokka laughs. "And you would be surprised how many customers I get who think they get to tell me what to do." His eyes settle on the half drunk latte in front of him. "It's not really my shop either, I just work the early morning shifts so Mr. Iroh can sleep in. If you ever get to stay past noon sometime, you'll see him come in. You can't miss him, short guy, talks in riddles. He's older, a war vet I think - I just get that impression from some of the stories he tells me. But anyway, did you want me to stop fidgeting?" Sokka looks back up to meet those golden eyes.

Zuko glitches for a second. "Oh! No, no, go for it - if it helps you to study, I'm all for it."

Sokka smiles, and looking at the way Zuko keeps picking at his cuticles gives him an idea. He digs into his backpack and pulls out another stim toy, an acupressure ring. ""Do you want to try this instead of maiming your hands?"

Zuko hesitantly holds out a hand and Sokka drops it into his palm. "You don't have to."

Sokka scoffs. "I know I don't have to - I want to. Come on, I wear it on my thumb sometimes -" and suddenly he's taking Zuko's hands into his and getting very close to Zuko's face. Zuko can smell espresso on his clothes and Sokka's hands are so warm against his. Calloused, sure, but warm. He holds Zuko's right hand gently, pressing the spiky ring onto his thumb. "And you can rub it back and forth with your pointer finger and it gives you that kind of prickly sensation that you get from skin picking, just without the skin picking." Sokka pulls his hands away and Zuko immediately misses them. "Give it a shot, tell me what you think."

Zuko tentatively rolls the ring over his thumb. Huh. The cute barista's right, the acupressure gives him that same prickly, scratchy feeling that picking at his nails and cuticles does. "Wow," he says, "I think you've converted me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then keep it, I've got a thousand more where that came from, ADHD perks."

Zuko instinctively opens his mouth to protest but the words die in his throat.

"You, you have ADHD?" He stops rolling the ring across his thumb.

"Yup." Sokka's lips popped on the 'p', and he turned to the next page in his textbook. "And I'm pretty sure you've got some spicy stuff happening your brain, too. But you don't have to tell me."

"How are you so open about it?"

Sokka's hand stills around the fidget. "My parents never treated me like I was deficient in any way - my brain just works differently, which means I have trouble with some 'normal' stuff. But I also strengths in areas that others don't have naturally. Accommodations aren't anything to be ashamed of."

"Sounds nice." All of the levity drops out of Zuko's voice.

Sokka levels a look at Zuko. He lets his eyes flit to the right side of Zuko's face and the scar there. He's seen it so many times, and the burns look so concentrated, almost... intentional. His stomach churns at the thought. The scar's old... and Zuko's at college now, he has to be safe - he has to be.

"Like I said, you don't have to tell me." Sokka's hand starts to fidget with the buttons again. "But I have it on good authority that I am a good listener."

"I'll... I'll keep that in mind." Zuko looks down at his hands, fingers rolling the ring back and forth against his thumb. "Thank you."

"Anytime, doc."

iii.

Somehow, fumbling through their collective social awkwardness, they manage to swap numbers.

At the end of the fall semester, Sokka texts Zuko for the first time.

S: hey, im gonna be a few minutes later. don't worry, im still coming.

Z: okay. thank you.

When Sokka finally pulls into the parking lot fifteen minutes late, he sees Zuko waiting outside the door, sitting on a bench, head buried in one of his chemistry textbooks.

"Hey," he puts his keys in the door. "You can just come in while I open, it won't take too long."

Zuko follows him inside, and he closes the door against the chill.

"You didn't have to text me," Zuko says, like it's a question.

"I wanted to," Sokka starts flipping on light switches. "I know you've got your routine, and I didn't want to stress you out when it got messed up."

"Why would that matter to you?"

"Um, I don't want you to be stressed? I kind of care about you."

"You... you care about me?" Zuko stands in the middle of the coffee shop, unmoving.

Sokka smiles. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Why?"

"I think we could be friends?"

"Oh." Zuko's face falls for a second - what Sokka has come to understand is his 'processing' face - and he looks back up a second later. "I think we could be friends too."

"Friendship with a barista has great perks, you know." Sokka laughs as he starts up the grinder. "Although the perks of a social worker friend aren't too bad either."

"How's that going? With your first semester ending?" Zuko sits on a stool at the bar and watches Sokka putter around behind it.

"Well, I'm going to pass Intro to Biology, not for lack of trying on Piandao's part - I swear he's trying to weed out all the humanities kids. It isn't even a weed out course!" He polishes an espresso glass furiously. "How are you doing?"

Zuko chokes. "Oh, I'm - I'm fine, you know it's a hard class and all -"

"You're getting an A, aren't you?" Sokka squints at him from behind a bag of coffee beans. "Curve breaker," he scoffs.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I'm, what did you call it? A 'burnt-out gifted kid with people pleasing tendencies'." Zuko crosses his arms and huffs at the memory of that conversation. Sokka had read him like a picture book. And it was not fair for one person to be that good at emotions.

"You are correct, I did indeed call you that." Sokka pulls the first shot of the morning. "And it looks like I was right."

"You know what you said the other week, about being a good listener?"

"Sure do," Sokka takes a sip of the espresso, swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, if we're going to be... friends, I just think you'd want to know that - I'm autistic." Zuko stares at Sokka searching his face for any cues about what the next words out of his mouth will be, waiting for the facade of friendship to drop. He furiously rolls the acupressure ring up and down his thumb.

"Okay, that's great!"

"...what."

Zuko's hands freeze and he squeezes the ring against his skin, feeling the pressure increase.

"That's great, I'm glad you felt safe enough to tell me that. I kind of guessed your parents weren't as accommodating as mine?"

Zuko laughs something sour. "No, no they were not." He looks up in surprise as Sokka puts an iced matcha, extra honey, in front of him. "You're right though, I do feel safe here. I feel safe with you." Zuko looks down at the acupressure ring on his thumb, softening his grip. "You could have totally ignored me, but you didn't. Or you could've been mean about my quirks - but you weren't. Why?"

"Well, for starters, you tip well." Sokka smiles and leans across the counter, bracketing Zuko's elbows in with his own. "But you're also a really great guy - you're passionate, you want to make people's lives better, and you're also like, really beautiful."

Zuko feels his cheeks flush. "You really think that?" His fingers still against the fidget again, but he doesn't feel the need to press it into his skin. He's captivated by Sokka's words. Surely, Sokka couldn't actually mean -

"Oh, yeah. Every bit." Sokka brushes his hand against one of Zuko's, the one with the fidget ring. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yes, please, yes." After weeks, Sokka's hand is back in his, and Zuko thinks he's going to implode. "Can, can you hold both of my hands? With both of your hands?"

"Of course," Sokka's positively beaming, grabbing Zuko's hands and running his thumbs across his knuckles. "Now you're absolutely allowed to say no to my next question, and there are no hard feelings."

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Fuck yes."

The iced matcha is forgotten.

+ i

Sokka's feet hurt like hell. Mr. Iroh had called in him to work a double on Friday, and since he doesn't have any classes on Fridays, he foolishly agreed.

It won't seem so foolish once you see the paycheck, he reminds himself. He and Zuko have a deal. Zuko pays for his medical school with his job shelving books at the University library, and Sokka pays for their tiny apartment by caffeinating all of the other broke college kids in town. By some miracle, they seem to be able to make it work. Zuko graduated into the medical college a year early, which helps with tuition costs, and of course his brilliant boyfriend got all kinds of scholarships.

Sokka is indescribably proud of him.

The door bell jangles just as Sokka is wiping the crumbs off the last cafe table. "Hey, we're starting to close up for the night, so it'd better be a to-go order," he calls over his shoulder.

"Even for me?"

"Zuko!" Sokka drops his cloth immediately and spins around, pulling Zuko into a hug. Zuko taps the small of his back when he's ready to let go, and Sokka lets him go, beaming. "You came to visit me at work?"

"More like I picked up your favorite soup dumplings from Haru's across the street and thought we could walk home together?" Zuko shrugs, gesturing to the brown paper bag in his arms. "How's that sound to you?"

"Baby, that's just what I needed today." Sokka picks up his cleaning supplies. "Okay, I just need to put all of this away and then we can lock up and go home, how's that?"

"Great," Zuko smiles at him. "I may have also picked up some more Doctor Who DVDs from the library," he smirks.

"Oh, you trickster!" Sokka yells from the kitchen, before appearing again. "You used my one weakness, pork soup dumplings, against me in order to get your nerdy way."

"Oh, big talk coming from the guy who watches astronomy documentaries for fun," Zuko laughs as Sokka leads him out of the shop, switching off the lights and locking the door behind him. "If it were up to you, we'd be watching Cosmos all weekend, and I can only take so much of Neil deGrasse Tyson explaining the peculiarities of the moon."

"Hey, the moon is cool!"

"You are correct, the moon is very cool. It's freezing, because it's a rock. In space. With no atmosphere. Or life." Zuko deadpans, earning a light punch on the shoulder from Sokka.

"Fine, you get Doctor Who tonight, but Saturday is going to be all PBS Nova, baby. Brace yourself." Sokka takes Zuko's free hand into his as they start the walk home.

"Well, as long as you're there, I'm happy."

Notes:

fidgets in this work were inspired by those from shop StimBox

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 As your boyfriend | FKBU Headcanons 』

Characters: female!reader, Kambe Daisuke, Kato Haru

Tags/warnings: Fugou Keiji Balance: Unlimited (anime), 18+, strong sexual references, fluff, angst, Haru's PTSD, headcanons, daddy kink and cockwarming (kind of?) for Daisuke, breeding kink for Haru *coughing intensifies*

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: Felt like writing some more for these boys because ~holy shit~ do I love them, and I maybe went a teensy bit overboard. Oopsie! 🤭 But anyway, have y'all seen episode 6?! Let's freaking gooo! (No spoilers, don't worry) Thanks for reading! Enjoy! Imo~

Kambe Daisuke

First up: daddy kink. I know it, you know it, we all know it. So let's not beat about the bush

Quite dominant and firm with you (see: daddy kink)

But he absolutely loves spoiling you

Expensive gifts, like one-of-a-kind necklaces, seductive perfumes, satin dresses, lace underwear, etc.

He loves dressing you up and showing you off

But he also loves spoiling you in bed more like ruining, I am deceased

A lot of butt grabbing in public hnng

He likes it when you don't wear any underwear because it makes for easier quickies like bent over the sink in the bathroom at his favourite club

He likes you sitting on his lap in front of people, too aye papi

American gangster vibes, honestly

He's not really one for soppy, romantic PDA, but he loves you letting people know that it's him you want and nobody else

He loves the look on people's faces when you call him 'daddy' that grin will be the death of me

Especially the look on Haru's face, lmao. He blushed like a tomato and couldn't speak a coherent sentence for a whole hour

Hickeys. Lots and lots of hickeys. And don't even think about covering them up

Daisuke loves sleeping naked and has a habit of walking around the house in just a towel when he gets out the shower fight me

He's also completely oblivious to what it does to you

A MASSIVE bed with super soft, satiny sheets. They feel like clouds uwu

He gets HEUSC to remind him of important dates, like birthdays, anniversaries, etc.

Date Ideas: Unlimited sorry, not sorry

From fancy restaurants, to exclusive movie premieres, to late night helicopter rides to the other side of the country, Daisuke can and will pay for anything if it makes you happy

He also lets you introduce him to lots of new things, like trying different kinds of street food on dates, going rowing on the pond in the park, having a go at karaoke, renting bikes and cycling round the city, going hiking at the nearest nature reserve or wilderness, etc. adorable

He's like a curious kitten when he's trying new things, putting a lot of trust in you to guide him through it

He always looks perfect in the photos you snap, even the ones he wasn't aware you were taking, and it's a lowkey frustrating that he nearly always looks prettier than you

But it's not his fault, so you'll only pout for a little while

His face is pretty hard to read most of the time, but you eventually get used to it and pick up on all his little mood indicators

His ears move when he's happy, and you can't convince me otherwise

He'll hold your heels for you when your feet hurt on a night out

He smells of leather and sandalwood, and his kisses taste of expensive whisky and cigars

He loves it when you bite his lower lip while making out

He's kind of possessive, but in a protective way

He never thought of himself as a particularly jealous person, until one night he came back to the bar and saw some other guy hitting on you the attention was definitely unwanted on your side

It made his blood boil – clenched fists, piercing glare if looks could kill

But he managed to stay calm and maturely tell the guy to get lost, with his arm snaking round your waist

Daisuke made it very clear that it wasn't you he didn't trust. It was that he didn't trust that guy – or any guy, for that matter

His favourite ~position~ is on a table or other surface with your legs over his shoulders

He's a god at eating you out

He's a god at everything in the bedroom, tbh

Saint Laurent condoms, because he's that fucking extra I'm screaming

His hair always falls out of place when you're fucking it's so hot and cute, wtf

It's a lot of glitz and glamour on the surface, but when it's just the two of you, you know just how much you mean to him

The King of Aftercare™

He used to suck at aftercare until he properly tried it. Then he realised that he needed it as much as you did le cry

Back rubs, forehead kisses, playing with your hair, soft whispers in your ear

He holds you so tightly that it gets hard to breathe, and you can feel his heart beating hard against your back

Sometimes he likes to just stay inside you after finishing

He enjoys the feeling of you around him, and honestly, you like just feeling him being inside you cockwarming, kind of?

Soft little nuzzles with his nose in his sleep even better when he's fallen asleep while still inside you

He's not perfect, but being with you makes him try to be better

Help, my heart's so full 🤧

Kato Haru

This man is a sweetie pie, honestly

Not just boyfriend material, but husband material put a ring on it, hun

Lots of home cooking, and it all tastes so good you honestly believe he could just quit being a cop and open up a restaurant

He loves cooking with you, too. It's fun bonding time

Sometimes he stands behind you and guides your hands etc. it sometimes goes a little further, if ya know what I'm saying 👀

Knows how to do all the chores and housework, and actually does his share look at my practical hubby

Random pillow fights that turn into cuddle sessions

He talks in his sleep waaahh, so cute

Sometimes it's utter nonsense, like 'Don't let the donuts escape'

Other times, it's things like, 'I love Y/N so much,' or 'Let's have babies,' while he's holding onto you, and you just melt

Spooning. So much spooning

Lots of budget date ideas, like building pillow forts, watching sunsets and stargazing from the balcony, going for hikes and runs together, going for picnics, feeding ducks at the pond, etc.

One time, a duck chased him around the pond because he had the bread, and he had to run for 20 minutes before it gave up thank God for all that cardio

The Master of Flat Pack Furniture™ – because he takes his time and actually reads the instructions

Daisuke had a ™ so Haru needed one too

Takes good care of you on your period and actually knows about different sanitary products

He smells really fresh and clean, like Imperial Leather soap and air-dried laundry as long as he hasn't been on a stakeout, lmao

He loves taking showers with you, but like, actual showers

The first and only time you had shower sex was hot and steamy until:

1. You realised that water does not a good lube make and 2. He slipped and accidentally shoved his dick in your ass instead

You fully passed out, and he was so frantic that he bundled you into the car and drove you straight to the ER you were in just a towel, might I add

You both look back on it now and laugh, but he was genuinely scared

Shower sex = never again

But he loves it when you straddle his lap and start grinding on him bonus points if you kiss his neck and run your hands through his hair

He's a pretty vanilla boy when it comes to sex, preferring positions like missionary and cowgirl, and liking a fairly even balance of power

He got super embarrassed and flustered when he finally mustered up the courage to suggest having car sex

And then even more embarrassed and flustered when you actually ended up doing it

He was blushing so hard the entire time and came really quickly, which only added to his embarrassment but you thought it was cute

He has really sensitive nipples which you use to your advantage

He absolutely loves hates it when you send him nudes or try and sext him while he's at work, because he gets a massive boner and will either have to live with it and probably get laughed at by those goobs in the office, or deal with it in the bathroom, which feels wrong to him on so many levels

Doesn't really stop you sending them though, because whenever you do, he comes home and fucks you really well

One thing that's not vanilla about him is how much he likes cumming inside you breeding kink, welcome to the party. Please take a seat

He didn't tell you about it for the longest time because he was embarrassed about it and was afraid you'd think it was gross or something please cum in me, sir

He was so relieved when you were understanding about it and open to the idea of indulging him

But he genuinely really wants kids some day he'd be a great dad

His PTSD doesn't stop him being a good boyfriend, but he's convinced that it does

Most days he seems okay, like he's over it, even

But sometimes you'll wake up in the middle of the night and find him curled up in the bath, shaking and crying into his knees my poor baby, I can't

Excuse me while I go and cry into my pillow for a while

You're his safety net

When he feels like he's drowning, you keep his head above the water until the waves eventually calm and recede, and he can breathe again

He hates putting so much on your shoulders

But you swear to him that you wouldn't want to be doing anything else, and that you're not going anywhere

This got so angsty, my heart can't take this 😭

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[atiny-exol]

Werwolf Ateez reaction to finding their s/o touching themself+how they are during their heat

Warning: it's sexual, strong language, +18, some heavy kinks might come through

Don't like it don't read it

_______________________

Hongjoong

Hella scary once he is in heat. Not gonna lie he is one of these members who just straight up has 3 days in a row Sex with you

Of course with some breaks in between

But now imagine him coming home after a long day of work

Already feeling super horny. And you also teased him the whole time woth lascivious pictures of yourself

This man goes wild

Definitely gonna punish you for that

Spanking, spanking, spanking

Degradation but also praising

,,You are such a fucking slut you know that? Can't even wait for your alpha to come home. Tz."

Ties your hands together so you can't touch yourself more

,,Oh no no. I decide if you come, you had enough time for touching yourself. It's my turn."

Overstimulation

Breeding kink. A huge breeding kink

His strong hand strikes your ass cheek another time and a loud cry came out of your mouth. Tears also run down your cheek and you tried to struggle out of his rough grip. ,,Don't you dare to move again or I will spank you till you bleed slut. After I'm done with you, you wish that you have wait for your alpha."

Seonghwa

Biggest Dom

Punishment, degradation, breeding kink, edging, choking

You are in for a rough rough night

As soon as his heat starts nothing can hold him back from making you his

He would be super angry for you touching yourself

You have him at home and yous till use your own hands?

He will show you that your little fingers can't do the same as his

Like I said edging, choking and degradation

He will hold you down on the mattress by your throat while he thrusts into you

,,Don't you dare to come now pup. I will tie you to the bed and tease you the next days if you are dare to come now."

Spit kink, marking

,,Fucking whore. You better swallow it. It's the only thing you get today beside my cum."

You were so close, so so close to cumming, but just in the moment you reached your high. Seonghwa pulled his mouth and hands away, letting you whine louder. ,,S.. Seonghwa.. M.. Master I-" The male growled at you, slapping your thigh roughly. ,,Shut the fuck up whore."

Yunho

Cocky, a huge tease

Will watch you, even if he needs a lot of strength to hold himself back

Once you see him, you turned red immediately stopping

,, You better don't stop now. You look so damm sexy like that. Move on."

But he would tell you to move on

Watches you, till he can't hold back

Choking, size kink and breeding kink

Definitely a lot of praising

,,God. Look how well you take my dick little one. Even if you are so tiny you take it so easily."

He will make you cum multiple times while he is in heat but out of all the boys he one with the ability to hold back and not just fuck you stupid

,,Look look what I found here." Perplex you looked at the door, seeking your alpha standing in the door frame, slightly laying against it with a huge smirk on his face. ,,Who told you to stop little one. Move on. Make yourself cum again and maybe you get a reward."

San

A whole teasing Dom

A hard dom if you ask me

Once he smells your arousal when he stepped in your shared flat, he would go crazy

Ties you up and ducks you stupid

He will make you a drooling mess

,,You look so fucking stupid like this bitch. Does my dick make you stupid yeah? Pathetic."

Doesn't stop till his cum leaks out of you

He can fuck multiple rounds but once he is exhausted

Will tie vibrators to your sensitive spots and drives you crazy with them

,,Awww you couldn't cum now? That's not problem bitch."

A loud growl from the door, let you look up with big eyes. Just to see your angry and horny alpha stepping inside the room, his pheromones telling you that his heat has started. You immediately put your hands away, not daring to do anything without his permission. ,,Tz. You really want to have all the fun without me bitch? If you dare to do that again, I will tie you up."

Mingi

Size kinkkkkk

As an alpha he is even bigger and I mean not just his hight:)

Definitely a rough one in heat, wants to make you ride him

Choking

,,You love it when I wrap my big hands around your tiny little throat princess/prince."

Praising, making you cum as much as you want

Focused not just on his pleasure but on yours too

Makes you feel soo tiny and small underneath him

Okay but he will rip your clothes off if you wear something

Not into punishing you, because you look super sexy while touching yourself

So lucky you :)

Definitely eats you out :)

,,Fuck how can someone as tiny as you take everything I give you so well hm?" His big hands parts your legs and his head immediately disappeared between them. ,,Even down here you are so tiny and cute. Do you really think you can take my dick?"

Yeosang

Okay but yeosang is the meanest out of all of them

He is good in hiding his neediness and he isn't joking when he tells you that you will never dare to touch something what isn't yours

Because this is his

And is heat you are his little plaything, his little toy he can manhandle how he wants to

Doesn't care of people hear you, or see you when he fucks you against the window (as a punishment of course)

,,What if someone sees you hm? You would love that right? You would love it when everyone sees how good your master fucks you."

He will mark you, cover you in spit, maybe some other liquids :)

He can control himself very good even while he is in his heat

So he can work while you hump his leg, or show like the desperated little mutt you are

Degradation and humiliation

While he is in heat he wants to have excess to your hole the whole time

No underwear for you

,,What did I say about underwear? Are you really that stupid that you can't follow one simple command? Tzz. I will just fuck you with your underwear on then. Maybe this teaches you a lesson. "

A lot of teasing too

With him you have everything you can think of

Okay someone has to stop me now :)

Whining and pouting, you looked up to yeosang who is currently working on his laptop, not giving you any attention as you humped his shoe like a bitch. ,,M.. Master..ple-" ,,What did I say about interrupting my work mutt?" His stern look made you back away abruptly and you lowered your head in submission. ,,I'm sorry master." ,,Maybe you should use your mouth for soemthing better than this pathetic apology."

Wooyoung

Yeosang and is the meanest but Wooyoung is the one who teases the most

Cock warming as a punishment for touching yourself? Definitely

He will stay inside you, whisper dirty things in your ear but if you move he will flip you over and beat your ass raw

He will tease you, edge you and it seems like his pleasure is over yours

In his heat he is ruthless and if he is angry.. It's hell for you

You are happy if he let's you cum once in a while

,,How many times did I deny your orgasm now sweetheart? 12 or 13 times? I think you can do more. "

Blindfolds you too, ties you up, let you lay there while you hear how he jerks of

,,Of it wasn't for your bad behavior of touching something what isn't yours. I would have fucked you stupid by now."

Dirty talk is his favorite, and he loves to make you cry in exhausting and denial

His loud moans filled the room and you manged to press your thighs together. Trying to get at least a little bit of friction from this, but you immediately regretted your little move as you felt a harsh slap on your cheek. ,,Don't you dare to get any pleasure from this. It's a punishment and not a reward. If you try this again I will not give you anything today. And I'm sure a little whore like you wants to be filled up right? "

Jongho

Strength kink

He saw you in cute lingerie today, you dent him some photos and when he came back home he heard your moaning

He will rip your underwear of and spank you

He doesn't joke around

Doesn't let you cum before he came 2 times

So you have to suck him of

Haut pulling and some mild degradation mixed with praising

,,Aww fuck you are doing such a good job whore. "

No ropes he will hold your hand together with his hands

You are not able to move and he will make you cum around his dick

Doesn't stop when you came

Breeding kink (.. Let's be honest all of the werwolfs have one)

Brings you pleasure in a way you never had

His heat is heavy, you have rough Sex mainly when he or you are in heat

But you both love it way to much

Maybe some choking? His hands would look so good wrapped around your throat

Biting, a lot of biting

,,Fuck. Look at this, you are covered up in my marks. Everyone will know that you are mine and just mine."

His hands roughly pulled you closer to his hard member, his face showing you how annoyed he is by your attitude by now. ,, You better do me a favor after the stund you did today little one. Or I will turn your ass into a burning red color."

[oceansmelodysblog]

Hyrule High School

Promotional fiction for @zelquiwi​ ‘s fanart on Twitter

Chapter 1

Zelda said goodbye to her ballet coach and stepped out into the sultry evening sun. A cooling breeze blew into her face and dried her sweaty face. She undid her braid and let the breeze blow through her hair. Zelda relaxed mentally and walked along the pavement. Bicyclists sped past her, twirling her white polka-dotted red summer dress. She shyly held her hem so as not to expose too much, as the dress only covered half of her thigh. She wore a white short shirt under her dress, white sporty shoes and a small bag with her ballet clothes.

The roar of cars and motorbikes deafened her ears, pedestrians shouted at each other, the paths were too crowded. Fathers and mothers with prams and people in wheelchairs were disregarded and jostled.

Dogs barked at each other while being held back with difficulty by their owners.

Zelda found the chaos too much, so she decided to take a diversion today, away from the main roads.

Fascinated, she watched the retro facades of the narrow streets, the colourful hubbub of the restaurants and the welcome invitations from the waiters to take Zelda to the restaurant. She smiled off gratefully and walked briskly along the paths.

She loved to stroll the streets after her hard ballet practice before returning home bored. As the 15-year-old pubescent daughter of a diplomat and a lawyer, the highest discipline was expected of her. It was tough, but she couldn't complain as it opened many doors for her.

When Zelda finally arrived at her front door, she sighed loudly. She knew the summer holidays were coming to an end and with it her freedom to devote herself fully to her hobbies.

Zelda moved gracefully through the corridors of the school to her classroom in her white blouse, navy blue school uniform blazer and matching skirt and was greeted warmly by her classmates, although she treated everyone equally, she felt most comfortable in the presence of her best friends Impa and Purah. The two were siblings with a year's difference, though they could be as different as night and day. While Purah was older than Impa, she was still a bright and fashionable model student in science. Impa, on the other hand, was the more sensible of the two, very well-versed in languages, politics, history and the subject of Hylia's teachings. While Zelda excelled in all subjects, the poor marks in the teachings of Hylia cast a mocking shadow over her report cards every time.

While Mipha, Robbie and Revali joined them, they were talking about their experiences of the summer holidays when the other students suddenly fell silent. It was still too early for one of the teachers, so the troop turned around curiously.

A young man about their age with blond spiky hair tied back stood in front of the blackboard and greeted everyone curtly.  He stood there with his chest erect and sporting clothes, scratching the back of his head nervously.

" Are you lost Link?" asked Revali mockingly.

"Revali don't be so rude. I hope you are all right." intervened Mipha. A girl who was always sweet and polite to everyone.

"Where the heck have you been all these holidays!" blurted out Impa.

"I'm fine, thanks," Link said, giving Mipha a smile without bothering to give Revali a glance. "I've been helping out in the countryside all summer." His gaze drifted from Impa to Zelda, who paid him no attention. "Hope you didn't miss me too much." He winked at Paya , Impa's and Purah's cousin, who blushed every time Link flirted with her.

He immediately noticed that the rest of the girls were also looking in his direction, whispering and giggling amongst themselves. They couldn't be blamed, because Link had an attractive charisma, fascinating blue eyes, an athletic figure and above all something mysterious about him, which was attractive to many girls.

"Don't pretend you'll be missed, you poor beggar have to sweep up cows' shit on your farm."

He whirled around and stared renegade at Revali, running towards him, but when both grabbed each other by the collar, Sakasai intervened while Cado and Dorian held them back.

"The holidays are only over, yet you are feuding blood. Let's enjoy this year peacefully!", Sakasai soothingly talked to them. His poetic expression was able to melt even ice-cold icebergs.

 Just when the situation had defused, the bell rang for the start of class and the teacher, Mr Daruk, entered the room.

"Link, Revali. As soon as you make eye contact, you bark like dogs fighting for territory in the street. I have a new seating plan here that will make sure you two sit far apart."

Mr Daruk was the linguistics and labour teacher. He was dark-skinned, broad-shouldered, with a muscular chest and a round beer belly. His white hair pointed in all directions and his full white beard went down to his stomach. He always prepared us, apart from the lessons, for the hard life after school. For which Link was particularly grateful, as he had to struggle especially hard in his neighbourhood.

"Revali, you will sit in the front row next to Mipha. Sakasai, please sit next to Paya. Link, you will sit next to Zelda." As an indignant murmur went through the class, the teacher thumped the teacher's desk, creating a silence that had never existed before. "I demand discipline! Now sit down at your assigned seats. You will see that you and your new neighbours will complement each other. Now to the order of the day..."

As he sat down, he felt how uncomfortable it was to sit next to Zelda, as she obviously couldn't stand him.

Therefore, he slid as far as he could to the edge of his chair so as not to get too close to her.

Link barely caught what the teacher was saying, he was too taken with her closeness. To keep a clear mind, he pulled his hood over his head and rested his head on his arms, which were folded on the table. He sighed. It was going to be a busy day at school, he thought to himself.

  "Hey bro, you alright? Up for basketball?" asked Sidon, who was his best friend, despite the fact that he was in a different class from his year. He was a hunk and towered over him by several heads. He had red hair, like his sister Mipha, but gold-shimmering eyes. Despite his imposing and intimidating manner, he was the most likeable Hylian he knew.

"Ayyo Bro, how you doin'? Throw me the ball!"

Link took off his hoodie and bared his muscular torso. He wanted to clear his head and stop thinking about how annoyed Zelda was at his presence. He wasn't even sure why she was and assumed she was looking down on him with her domineering appearance.

The mere fact that he had put his head down on the table and was boredly playing with his pens made her breathe an annoyed sigh and tap her foot impatiently. She was also the first to immediately pack up her utensils and disappear out the door without giving him a glance.

While he was shooting baskets with his best buddies, he was joined by the rest of his friends, including Cado and Dorian, one slim and athletic, the other broadly built. More boys gathered around him, whom he knew from his neighbourhood or from his sports clubs. He greets them all with a handshake and a brotherly hug: a fist to the brother's shoulders. This is how they signal solidarity and friendship to each other.

Sometimes they were joined by Impa, who would then go up against the boys and single-handedly finish them off in every game. Impa was a girl Link liked to have around because she was unbeatable. She was like a second sister to him, whom he respected and wanted to protect at the same time.

But when Link looked out for her, he found her agog with Zelda Purah and Paya discussing something and smirked. He could only guess what they were so animatedly discussing at the moment.

 "Phew, Link put some clothes on, your armpits stink big time."

Abruptly Link's mood changed, as if someone had hit him in the head with a shovel.

"It only started to smell when you got here, Revali."

The young Revali was not much taller than Link, had his hair braided into a boxer braid while two white dyed strands hung out of his braided hair. He had the eye shape of a snake and his eye colour and character were just as venomous. He was always out to make Link's life difficult and to flaunt his parents' wealth.

"Do you want to mess with me? You street dog have nothing to say to me, is that clear?" said Revali provocatively. Just like Link, he was surrounded by his boys waiting to bash each other's heads in.

"You can't do anything but play hardball, come on get lost with your wannabe gangsters."

A horde of girls from different years, cheered Link's and Revali's names as if it was some kind of competition.

Link wrinkled his nose contemptuously and stared renegiously into Revali's eyes. As a final sign of warning.

Sidon noticed the sparkling fire in the eyes of the two rivals and walked between them and stood protectively in front of Link.

"Hey yo bro, how about we settle this problem between you with a contest".

The girls who were just now cheering and gushing for Revali or Link were now screeching Sidon's name together as if his presence could put all disputes aside.

"A competition? Only if I choose the discipline. ", Revali said, but Link was about to intervene when his best friend held him back.

"We will choose three disciplines. Everyone will get one discipline they are particularly good at, while the third will remain neutral. Okay?" asked Sidon. Link nodded in agreement. Now it was up to Revali.

"On one condition, we're going to put this competition out to the whole school so everyone can watch me kick the shit out of that son of a bitch."

"Be careful what you say, we don't want your ego to be hurt anymore." Countered Link and turned away. It was already a foregone conclusion for him that he had to face his rival and win.

  Zelda watched the action of the rival boys while Impa and Purah argued about which motto would be more appropriate as a house party. She squinted over at the silent Paya looking distressed at the tense troop of boys on the basketball court. Zelda followed her gaze and immediately understood her expression. It was Link, who moved away from the group and sat down on a wooden bench, running his hands through his hair.

"Paya, go to him. He will be very happy to receive emotional affection from a pretty girl, like you. He might fall in love with you after all," Zelda said hopefully.

She shyly looked Zelda in the eye and turned bright red in the face. Purah and Impa interrupted their discussion and listened in wonder.

"That's right, Paya! Go get him!" Purah, Paya's eldest cousin, motivated her. Everyone knew that Paya was crazy about Link but was too shy to talk to him.

When Paya finally decided to go to him, Impa was about to stop her, but Zelda and Purah held her back. Impa didn't like it, because she knew Link very well and also knew what his heart was like. Her gaze rested on Zelda, who was looking contentedly behind Paya. Maybe she had to get involved after all and a house party by the pool would be the best option.

[enbeast]

hey yall I noticed that there don't appear to be any transcripts for A Study In Ichor, so I figured I'd type some up, please note I am literally just going off the audio and I might get some stuff wrong.

mission 1

:readmore:

CLIP ONE

Workhouse Owner (WO): RUN FASTER, WORKER FIVE, THAT TREADMILL WON'T TURN ITSELF. As you can see, Master Yao, our workhouse not only provides food and shelter for three hundred inmates but makes a healthy profit too. For example, Worker Five has been running on one of Cubbad's “treadmills” for a mere twelve hours today and has already milled five hundred pounds of flour. Got the odd nail in it but it's good enough for the Rutherhive slums [laughs]

Sam Yao (SY): Twelve hours? Without a break?

WO: The alternative of life on the streets is an excellent motivator. And with your investment we will be able to build even more machinery, maybe even increase rations to three bowls of gruel a day.

SY: I want to use my inheritance for good, and if I'm honest, I have some concerns about your worker's wellbeing.

WO: Oooh I seee~ Yes, I suppose it is rather fashionable nowadays to worry about unfortunates, but I assure you Master Yao, once you've had to make your way in the world, like myself or your uncle, a fine man, you'll learn that revenue is the important thing, not how it's made.

(note, as Sam talks there approaching footsteps)

SY: Surely, there's a way to- OW!

WO: YOU THERE, IN THE CAP, watch where you're going, you just ran into a potential investor. Where's your worker number?

Pick pocket (PP): (in a stilted cockney accent) Sorry, Guv'ner.

SY: No, no, it's fine, I was in the way.

WO: It is not fine. Young lady, break time isn't for another three hours. Get back to work. (retreating footsteps from PP) I'm dreadfully sorry, Master Yao, this workhouse is full of ingrates.

SY: My watch! It's gone, the chain's been snapped...

WO: That worker stole it, she's a pickpocket! Worker Five get off that treadmill and chase after her DON'T COME BACK WITHOUT THAT WATCH!

SY: Uh, I'll come with you, Worker Five, I don't want to make a fuss, but that watch is important to me. Come on, let's run.

CLIP TWO:

SY: Hey, mind your step, Worker Five, I've heard about this, rows of people crushing animal bones to make fertiliser. Ugh, the smell is awful. Pickpocket just ran out into the street, we've got to follow her! Five, I hope you don't mind if I call you Five, through that door! (sound of door opening) There! I see her, she's heading towards the Temm's tunnel, it goes under the river from here to Whopee, an engineering marvel- a-apparently, my uncle's an engineer, he's building an underground railway. I try to keep up with the industry but... It doesn't come naturally... I mean, I-I know the tunnel was built using Bruno Cockren's tunnelling shield but I still barely understand what that even is, I don't ac-ARGH! Oh! (gasping) Five! If you hadn't pulled me aside that horse and cart would have run me over! Ugh, I-I'm sorry, I should have been paying attention, but well I-I don't often get to talk to anyone who isn't my uncle, or someone who's interested in my inheritance... Not that I need all that money, of course. I just want to be sure it's going to help people, it's what my parents would have wanted. That's why the watch is so important to me, it was the last thing they ever gave me before they died. Reminds me of what's important. If, if it was any other watch, I'd... just have let that pickpocket keep it, I'm sure she needs it more than I do... Ah, she's just hopped the barrier at the Temm's tunnel, it's in that round red brick building the entrance shaft is underneath, come on, Five, let's experience this engineering marvel first-hand, quickly, before we lose her!

CLIP THREE

SY: Ah, this tunnel is incredible, can you believe we're RUNNING under the Temms, makes me feel a bit funny... Mind you, we're here now that it's safe, uh, some of the people that built it died in the flood... Oh! Maybe I should spend my inheritance on something that'll make projects like this safer for workers, what do you reckon Five? Oh, Oh no... The pickpocket's already climbing the stairs! Ah- she's getting away! (panting) Whopping's all alleys, if she slips down a back street, we'll never find her! Up the stairs! Run!

CLIP FOUR

SY: (panting) And we're out of the tunnel, the pickpocket just ducked down that alley, after her. (Running sounds) Uh, we've got you cornered, now please. Give me my watch back.

Amelia Spens, formerly known as the Pickpocket (AS): Oh, I don't think so. Lads! (sounds of several sets of footsteps closing in) You're surrounded.

SY: Five, it's a gang of pickpockets.

AS: I'd have been happy with just the watch, but since you followed me, allow me to introduce the Abel Street Gang, they're all over the rooftops and they've all got knives.

SY: Please, don't hurt us, Five here has nothing to do with this!

AS: There'll be no need for bloodshed as long as you both give me all the money you're carrying.

SY: Five doesn't have anything, but, uh, (mumbling, followed by the sound of a heavy bag of coins hitting the ground) That's all of mine.

AS: W-he-hell, aren't we the wealthy one.

SY: I-I've got more! Lots more! And I'll give it to you, I promise, just please return the watch. It's my most treasured possession.

AS: I see! Not an especially experienced negotiator, are you. Hmm, let's take a look at this watch, see what's so special about it. Hmm, pearl face, silver plating, and... an engraving...

SY: It's uh... it's Chinese, those are my parent's names, and that's mine. Sam Yao.

AS: Y-you're not even going to try and make up an identity? What- (laughing) You're lucky I'm just a pickpocket and not someone REALLY nefarious, I- Helloo, what's this? (music starts playing)

SY: There's a tiny music box behind the face, that melody was special to them.

AS: Ooh, a bit twee if you ask me.

SY: So you'll give it back?

AS: I might have sold it back to you for a few sovereigns before you told me who you were, but as my luck would have it there just happens to be something that only you can do for me, Sam Yao. Your uncle's digging a railway underneath London, isn't he?

SY: H-how did you know that?

AS: I read the Society Pages, in my line of work one needs to know who's on course to inherit what fortune, and which Saloons they're likely to fall out of after one too many brandies.

SY: My fortunes from my parents, not my uncle.

AS: Yes, but you're his ward, or at least you were until you came of age recently, correct?

SY: Yes.

AS: There's something I want to show you. Follow me and keep up the pace. There are far more unsavoury types than me in Whopping and they'll take more than your watch. Run!

CLIP FIVE

SY: What's your name?

AS: I'm not telling you my real one, but you can call me Amelia.

SY: Uh, if you don't mind me saying, Amelia, you're quite well spoken for a pickpocket.

AS: Well, even an educated woman is not replete with options in this day and age. We might have a woman on the throne but I had to choose between penury, marriage to a seventy year old rector, or this.

SY: Well, it's not easy for me either, I'm lucky I have money because, well, being Chinese, people have misconceptions.

AS: Yes, you really should choose your friends wisely. Down this side street.

SY: Ugh, Mm. What IS that smell?

AS: Cover your mouths with your handkerchiefs, both of you.

SY: It's alright, Five, you can use mine.

AS: The smell is coming from that huge pipe, you see the emblem embossed on it?

SY: Ah! It's from my uncle's engineering company!

AS: That's right. The pipe is a ventilation shaft from his railway tunnel, now let's get away from it so we can breathe.

SY: (Gasping) Whoah, Oh that's better. What is going on down there?

AS: That's what I want you to find out.

WO (distant): MASTER YAO! WORKER FIVE!

SY: Ugh, it's the workhouse owner.

WO: (approaching footsteps) (panting) Master Yao, I followed you all the way from Rutherhive, one of my workers told me this woman is actually part of the Abel Street Gang! She only came to the workhouse to target you.

AS: This worker, was he a handsome fellow? Smarmy grin?

WO: That's right!

AS: Brent. (Sigh) That'll teach me to use former paramours as spies. Fine. (gun clicking) Hands up!

SY: Amelia! Don't shoot him!

AS: I'm not not aiming it at him, Sam, I'm aiming it at you.

WO: Steady on!

AS: Mr Workhouse Owner, unless you want future investors to know you got this one killed, I'd advise you to stop following us. Sam, Five, come with me or I'll shoot you both. Run!

CLIP SIX

AS: We lost the Workhouse owner, time to put this away (clicking sound)

SY: We would have come with you, Amelia, there was no need for the gun!

AS: Don't tell me how to take a hostage. Now listen carefully, for reasons that elude me, not everyone who falls on hard times opts for criminality, some people would honestly rather perform manual labour, and your uncle happens to be a proliferate employer of such eccentrics. I wouldn't care, except that many of his employees have family in the Abel Street Gang.

SY: I can ask my uncle to pay them more. But... He doesn't really listen to me. I'm Rather naive, apparently.

AS: Well, fortunately I have no need of your dreadful negotiating skills, I need you to solve an even stickier problem. Several of your uncle's workers have gone missing. Even though I've repeatedly explained to my gang that it's a waste of time caring about anything besides one's self, they're refusing to work until they learn what's happened to their loved ones. It's hurting my bottom line.

SY: That's awful... For the workers.

AS: Ahh, they're probably dead. If WE can barely breathe the noxious fumes near the ventilation shafts, what do you think it's like underground?

SY: I can't imagine! Those poor people... I'll stop what's happening, I promise, even if I have to spend every last penny of my inheritance.

AS: Do that and I'll give you your watch back.

SY: It's a deal.

AS: Mm, my favourite words. Righto, well, if that's settled then I'm off. There's a debutante ball this evening and I need to be in good time if I'm going to harvest some pearls. (retreating footsteps)

SY: There she goes. Look, Five, ah, I feel a bit awkward asking you this, but, would you maybe consider working with me? You were quick out there, really impressive, I've just moved into a house by myself and I could do with a hand. I promise it'll be a lot easier than the workhouse. I know it's been a funny old day, but for me it's actually been nice having someone to talk to. Talk at. Sorry, I know I go on a bit. But if you want to let's shake on it. You did save my life. Great! Now, I'm starving, how about some steak and oyster pie? Maybe we'll come up with some ideas about what happened to those missing workers over dinner., then tomorrow, we'll visit my uncle. Lord Earnest Van Ark.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Snart Siblings Day Out

Another long forgotten Lisa Snart Appreciation Week fic.  (Takes place anytime before LOT, probably before Lewis' death). 

They had just succeeded in a successful raid of the bank yesterday afternoon. Fortunately the Scarlet Speedster was too late for once and they made off with ten thousand dollars, three diamonds necklaces and various other weaponry from the guards. It had been a good day.

Mick was sprawled out on the couch, nursing his hangover from their celebratory drinks at the club last night and using a bunch of stolen wallets and burned out cigarettes as a mashed up pillow.

Leonard decided he would take advantage of the day to go to the movies. Specifically a Star Wars Marathon.

Lisa had a feeling that her nerd of a brother would go to the Marathon after she had saw the ad on TV, some anniversary for the main character's birthday or something stupid like that. When she realized he planned the heist the day before, and the back up plan to go into motion the day after said marathon, she just knew it. Her brother had always been a Star Wars fan since he was 5 years old.

Even the-"oh so important, nothing else matters, Lisa, you can schedule your date for another time, no you can not make out with him while you're on watch" missions took a backseat where Star Wars was concerned.

Normally Lisa wouldn't have joined him, but all there was to do today was either watch Mick be a big baby about his hangover or laze around town until the clubs opened up. She chose the movies.

The marathon started at 9 in the morning so to kill time, Lisa bought tickets to a early Disney movie that was airing for the little kids.

"Really Lisa?" Leonard said when he saw the tickets she bought.  "Disney? I thought we had your 34 birthday two moths ago, not your 6th.” 

"Well do you wanna watch Disney or do you wanna watch something called Dams: A architectural documentary? Besides it would be something to sleep through." Lisa said, matter of factly. 

"I swear if anyone sees us watching this, I'm putting all of it on you." Leonard grimaced, pulling up the hood of his signature blue parka, hiding his face.

What she didn't mention was that it was Pinocchio. Lisa always had an attachment to the movie when she was younger. God how many times did she wear a blue dress to school and wave a wand around her room, singing?  And she would always look for the wishing star.

But Leonard had also become acquainted to the movie, whenever he would have taken of her when she was younger, she would make him watch it with her. And sometimes he would sing.

Not many people knew this secret talent. But he was a good singer. Not just good, but great. He had a deep baritone and steady voice that followed through the pitches, whenever he sang, she thought of the song like a warm barrier around her.

That usually had been because of circumstance though. She would make him sing it to her before she fell asleep, or when she had a nightmare or when Lewis had one of his lessons.

He would crawl into whatever nook she had burrowed herself into, and hug her and sing to her until she stopped crying or until she fell asleep. The song always gave her that stupid childish hope that maybe Lewis wasn't their real father, that he had just stolen them and their real parents, the perfect kind were looking for them.

She glanced at Lenny's direction to see if he noticed the choice of movie. If he had, he wasn't fazed. His posture didn't relax or tense and his face was shrouded by the furry hood.

After the whole "Once upon a dream" song, Lisa slow dropped off to sleep. Really besides the big song, the movie was a snoozer.  Leonard shook her awake, and they joined the long line of mega-nerds, some in costumes, awaiting to enter the theater.

When they entered, they were stuck in the front row, craning their heads back to see the screen, stuck between a blob creature and a guy with a tentacle shirt whose tentacles kept sneaking into her lap and popcorn.

Already refreshed from her other nap, she was agonizingly awake during the movie. It was a painful, slow moving torture that people called a "masterpiece of cinematic art" or at least people like her brother anyway. Really "cinematic art?"

She zoned out during the first half, so she was completely lost during the second half and second movie, and she couldn't go get a third popcorn refill because the aisle was crowded with legs and dorks that booed her every time she blocked their view of the screen.

Last ditch effort, she pulled out her phone and started playing Trivia Crack. She looked up to see Len glaring at her. "Turn it off.” he hissed "No one's paying attention. Not breaking the law here." "The light is distracting from the movie" he whispered "No it isn't. It's just a little thing compared to the huge 50 ft screen." "Yes but you keep clicking the keyboard, and some people are trying to listen to what they are saying." Leonard retorted "Oh you can't hear what they're saying? You really must be getting into your old age. The sound is giving me a..." She was cut off abruptly when Leonard grabbed her phone and firmly placed his other hand ontop of her mouth.

"This is my favorite part so shut it. He hissed. His hand wouldn't get off her mouth, no matter how many times she licked or bit it. He seemed to be lost in the world of the ugly green midget man.

Finally five and half hours later, they left the theater. Lisa practically ran out the door and kissed the sweet, fresh, cold ground.

Between the comfy woolen seats, and all the warm bodies, her leather outfit and his hand on her face, she was as sweaty as when Shawna dared Mick to spend the whole day in a incinerator.

They started to head for their parking space when she saw, faintly in the distance. A light blue café with a swirling ice cream cone. "Is that..." "Leo's Ice Cream" Leonard whispered.

Leo's Ice Cream was a place that their grandfather often took Leonard, saying it was his special place because of the coincidental name. Lisa barely remembered it, but when Leonard told stories, it sounded like he had just been there the day before. He had been very fond of their grandfather. Something about a greater father figure.

"Wanna go?" Lisa asked him.  Leonard seemed to be making choosing whether to treat himself to his childhood memory or keep on with his ice cold criminal facade, which he chose the latter.

"No. It's fine. Let's go home." he said stiffly. 

"But isn't the skating rink near by the café?" Lisa asked, innocently.  "Well, yes" Leonard conceded.  "Then let's go" Lisa dragged her brother by the arm as she raced down the streets to the round, grey building while Leonard stumbled to keep pace like an old man.

They entered the rink, and Lisa breathed in the cold, hair stinging smell of fresh ice. Another childhood memory of hers. She used to love to figure skate when she was younger. Other children wanted to be prima ballerinas. She wanted to be a prima ice skater ever since she had first visited the rink on a class field trip when she was 7.

Lewis, of course, had heartily disapproved. He needed her at home, to help with his jobs and be his punching bag and occasional cook. He didn't need his daughter to be trampling around the ice, looking like a sparkly, spandaxed idiot. Leonard was the one who supported her. He drove her to the rink, watched a few practices and when money got tight, flirted with her skating teacher to get free lessons.

As she grew older, and admittedly more cynical, she grew out of ice skating dreams, but continued to practice until she was in high school because Lenny seemed so happy to see her happy.

She laced up her rental skates and glided out to the ice. Muscle memory returning as she felt the slick floor beneath her blades.

Her muscles tensed as she returned to the familiar movement of glide-step-glide-step-turn. The wind sloshing past her ears, the world seemed to fade away, and dip and swirl as she did. She perform two triple lutz and five figure eights before returning to wear Leonard was by the plexiglass door.

"Are you gonna join me or what?" Lisa challenged, sharply turned with her time ick sending a shower of sparks. 

"Just wanted to watch you get the jumping out of your system. Don't need to get another head cut."

Lisa sheepishly grinned, that might have happened a few times. She could get really lost in the moment.

Leonard slowly walked out onto the ice. He was a decent skater, but he mostly kept to the side as she glided around performing for the awestruck toddlers and their parents.

She kept it up for a few more turns until she felt her muscles cry out for a break. Lisa walked back to the rental and slowly took off her skates. She forgot how much fun she had doing that, the utter freedom of movement around on the ice. "Nice going sis, haven't lost your touch" Leonard drawled, slowly clapping. Lisa smiled in turn.

They walked out of the rink, and Lisa announced she was choosing the place for dinner. She briskly walked him across the street, to the little blue café. "Lisa, I..you don't need.. I a-” Leonard stammered.

"I insist Lenny, it's my treat. We all need a nice ice cream" Lisa waved off his protests as she took out her credit card.

They settled to an outside table, silently people-watching and eating their order. He neatly devouring his banana split.  Lisa smiled as she watched him eat, taking note of his care-free face and his eyes that seemed to be thinking of some other time.

Contrary to what people may believe, but she wasn't so entirely self-absorbed. She knew how much Leonard loved her and how far he would go to protect her and make her happy. Honestly, it overwhelmed her sometimes. She felt she could never match up to his generosity and kindness to him. Never repay the fact that he had been her pillar of support, her biggest confidence, protector and cheerleader, and above all, someone who cared about her.

So sometimes, when she was able to make him smile like this with a small treat, she felt she was giving something back to the guy who practically was her father. Sure, it wasn't big or showy but she had a feeling he could get the meaning behind it. 

He didn't have many happy childhood memories to look back on, at least this was one she could remind him of. "Tell me about our grandfather" Lisa said, and Leonard launched into a vivid description of their grandfather's kind, blue eyes among other things.

"He was the one he always believed in my skills." Leonard sighed, looking uncharacteristically mournful, "He was the one who told me to do what I'm good at, and to think and to act with a brain."

"I mean I can't encourage you like he did. But I'm on your side. I always will be if you need me. Don't forget that, no matter how many times you get sent to jail, there's someone on your side. You're not gonna be alone as long as I'm around." You're not alone, Lenny" Lisa murmured softly,  Leonard gave a small smile.

They quickly moved on to less touchy subjects and started discussing any random thought that came to their head, from the Star Wars marathon to books to heists to the Scarlet Speedster.

"And what's up with his speeches? He sounds like some 50s superhero. I'm here in the name of justice, and to arrest you for robbery, grand theft auto and mercenary." Lisa crowed.

"Don't forget making him look bad." Leonard smirked.

"Oh yeah, we defiantly make him look bad."

Soon the sun started to set, and the afternoon lights turned to a light lilac. The walked silently back to the car with their own thoughts. Lisa felt a sense of stability and contentment she hadn't felt in a long time.

She wouldn't mind having more days like this. Just hanging out without doing any villainy or kidnapping. Sure, they would probably be back at it two days later but this was just as nice.

Leonard went into the driver's seat of their pick up and Lisa called dibs on shotgun out of habit from competing with Mick and sometimes Hartley when he joined the missions.

Lisa gazed out at Central City's skyline, and her ears perked up when she heard a familiar tune being hummed next to her. "Really Lenny?"

"Because of you whenever I hear that song it gets stuck in my head for the whole day" Leonard snarled, but Lisa could see his smirk behind the tone of voice, and started to sing along.

"When you wish upon a star, doesn't matter who you are..." Leonard's low alto joined in "Anything your heart's desire, your dreams come true."

It was so stupid how this song made her feel so freakin hopeful.

They stopped at the warehouse, and after Leonard locked the car doors, he gave her a quick, one sided hug and dis tangled himself from her.

"So that was nice." Leonard he muttered "Yeah" Lisa nodded.  They both could feel the unspoken thought between them. It had been nice, it was just a small reminder that they cared for each other.

Next time they should bike around town. Lisa remembered that motorcycles races against her brother was another memory that was fun to try.

Besides there was a cool jewelry store right by Leo's Ice Cream that had some great stuff to steal. You know, for family bonding days.

[stealinghero]

Oh man I just had a really angsty dream and I'd like to hear your take. I hereby request one writing of Lupin dealing with the loss of someone close to him and his s/o (who has dealt with many major losses in her life) helping him cope, please. As always, you don't have to. Thank you for all the work you do here and happy birthday :) Keep being awesome, friend.

^^” Thank you for the patience!! I am a bit too stressed in my job/life to keep up a daily post routine but when I write I give it my best.

This is a pretty bad thing I wrote and normally I don’t give out many trigger warnings. But this might be a bit too much to read for some people and I want to warn you to read it carefully.

You could see how the burden brought down his shoulders, slowing every single of his steps towards his destination. The bouquet of white lilies almost fell out of his limb fingers and it would be an understatement to say that you were anxious. He had skipped the meals, thinking and wondering if he could have changed anything about the way the world turned. But in the end he had to give up, get dressed and present himself to this cruel world again.

And here he was, thinner than ever, a pale ashen skin tone and sunken wild eyes that searched for a way out of this misery without any hope he would find an exit.

And yet there was something still alive in him. If it was his stubbornness or simply his will to fight, you couldn’t tell. But he sat one foot in front of the other, making his way through the rows of gravestones, followed by you like an eerie herald of doom.

He rather collapsed than go down on his knees and you stayed in the back to give him space and time to grieve. He had lost the man that meant the world to him and you didn’t want to disturb him in saying goodbye.

“Hey Pops.”

His fingers were shaking as he traced the letters engraved on the stone. It had been Jigen’s work in the end to carry the dead man to the next police station so he could get a proper funeral. And it had broken Lupin’s heart that he had to say his farewells like this and not standing beside the coffin himself.

In the end he had needed 2 weeks to be able to at least function. Going through the stages of grief, he was terrible to watch but you had prevailed and stayed by his side. Often it didn’t need more than a touch to send him spinning, shouting, bargaining, crying or simply breaking down, helplessly succumbing to the suffocating anxiety.

Jigen and Goemon were gone. They had enough to do right now with the successors of the Inspector with his former assistant laying not far away from his superior, rotting and hopefully with a peaceful soul watching the life move on from Heaven.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t come earlier.”

His voice was hoarse and rough from screaming his lungs out night after night. After Zenigata had died, the nightmares had come back in a terrifying intensity, leaving your lover in an all-round panic state throughout the whole night. He refused to sleep, collapsing from sheer exhaustion and waking up with a shriek of pure terror pounding on his body and soul a few hours later.

“How is life after death?”

You couldn’t see it now but you had helped him dress, so you knew the bruises and cuts were there. Underneath just a few layers of fabric was the sign that he was still fighting. He tried to catch his breath, to reign in his wild thoughts with pure pain and discipline, bringing him to the brink of another collapse. But to him everything was good enough not to think about what he had lost. He feared loss of control but didn’t realize that he had already lost it in losing his best friend and enemy. He was trying to act like a normal human in living out the worst nightmares on himself.

“Your successor is a real pain in the ass, you know?”

The three had come back to the house, bloody and beaten, and Lupin just had stepped past you and closed the door behind him. Jigen had stopped you from following while Goemon had explained in short words what had happened. You had slept the night in front of his door, listening to the breathless sobs and muffled screams of agony.

“Jigen and Goemon send their regards.”

He had denied any medical help, leaving his wounds inflamed. They were a sign of him losing hope. He had denied food and whatever you had just stuffed down his throat had been vomited out. His body couldn’t take anything heavier than a soup. He had denied simple things and now sported a small stubbly beard with his hair in a messed state. And he had denied himself to you. Every touch had him shivering and crying, arguing with you how he didn’t deserve this, how dirty he was and simply unworthy because he couldn’t save the two policemen.

“I brought flowers but I know you would rather have a beer.”

You watched him get out a can of Zenigata’s favourite brand and open it. Silently he poured it over the gravestone and left the half emptied can next to the grave, lightning a cigarette instead and leaving it with the can.

“Goodbye.”

You didn’t have to see him to know he was crying. With his head hanging and stooped stature he was the shadow of a man. You stepped closer and placed a hand on his head. He leaned on your leg and cried for his lost friend.

It would be a long way back to reality and he would never be the same again. But he had gotten up today, had eaten and had dressed. He even had allowed you to care for his wounds, while his fingers had ghosted over your skin in a silent apology. He would need time and you were ready to wait for him, next to him and with him.

[cheshiresense]

Hey, speaking of the Aizen/Ichigo time travel notfic, I just want to say I really love the way y ou write Aizen when he isn't just the villain. Like I don't even know why Im surprised, it's /you/, your characterization is always amazing. Do you think you can write a few more snippets or hcs with him and Ichigo? Maybe some interactions or convesations between them? No pressure ofc, thank you for everything youv'e already blessed us with!

Lol thank you! That’s good to hear, I always find flat characters painful to read so I do my best to round them out whenever I can. Aizen was a new one for me, this is the first time I’ve explored his character beyond - as you say - just the villain of the story that’s been defeated or needs defeating.

Here’s two more short scenes in this ’verse. I actually really like this AU, which surprises me because before this, I didn’t have any interest in writing Aizen at all.

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[Dinner]

Sousuke generously reserves a table for two at the sushi restaurant a block down from the Academy. He only has to wait ten minutes before Ichigo slouches into the seat opposite his, looking like every student who’s ever pulled three all-nighters in a row rushing for exams.

Sousuke arches an eyebrow. “I did not think the course load you are taking would be difficult for you.”

Ichigo shoots a glare at him but doesn’t seem to have the energy to hold it for longer than a few seconds before he’s slumping again and reaching for the menu instead.

“The course load is fine,” Ichigo tells him irritably. “But one of my teachers used to be Thirteenth Division and has some stupid grudge against Kaien because Ukitake-san passed him over for lieutenant even though he had a longer tenure than Kaien or something. So he’s taking it out on me by giving me extra assignments out of the blue every week. Says I’ll fail his class if I don’t do them.” He waves a dismissive hand. “I kinda wanna call his bluff, but it’s whatever, I just wanna graduate as soon as possible, and I can deal with a case of asshole. It was just a little tougher lately cuz of midterms but today was my last one anyway.”

Sousuke studies him for a careful moment. “You could mention it to your cousin. I am sure Shiba Kaien would jump to your defense, especially when he is involved.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why I’m not gonna tell him,” Ichigo scowls. “He’ll go charging in and kick up a huge fuss and definitely go overboard defending my honour or some shit. He’ll probably get Hisakawa fired, which I don’t really care about, but he’ll also draw a crapload of attention, and I don’t want anybody tossing words like nepotism and favouritism around. You told me yourself the Twelfth doesn’t seem to have many big clan members, and it’s not exactly a shock that Kisuke chooses people for his Division according to their intelligence. I don’t want him thinking I’m coasting by on my clan’s reputation or something, and that’s exactly what will happen  if I get Kaien to step in for me for every little thing.” He pointedly sticks his menu up between them. “Now can we order already? I literally haven’t eaten anything but instant ramen in a week. I’m getting everything here since you’re paying.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Sousuke enquires dryly.

“I’m poor, deal with it.”

“I am fairly certain your clan would shower you with money if you mention that you need it,” Sousuke points out. “And nobody else would even know if you are so concerned about reputation.”

Ichigo grimaces even as he glances around to catch the waiter’s eye. “Kaien’s already giving me a stipend every month cuz I’m family but I wanna save that for an apartment when I graduate. Besides, I don’t like asking people for money.”

Sousuke gives him a flatly droll look. “And yet.”

Ichigo meets his gaze without hesitation, a smirk curling at his lips, one that teeters between gruff amusement and a reckless sort of mockery. “Consider it payment for creeping on me when I was a kid and then dragging me into a war. You almost killed me multiple times; sushi’s the least you owe me, bastard.”

They pause for a minute to place their respective orders, and neither of them speaks until the waiter is out of earshot again.

“I wonder,” Sousuke murmurs, eyeing Ichigo thoughtfully. “If you blame Urahara Kisuke for ‘dragging you into a war’ as much as you blame me.”

Ichigo snaps his chopsticks and then jabs them at him. “Kisuke apologized. You didn’t.”

“And I never will,” Sousuke agrees, because he won’t, not with any kind of sincerity, and he’s noticed that Ichigo has a knack for picking out that sort of thing. Sousuke isn’t sorry. Perhaps his ambitions and plans gave the boy very little choice in the matter, but at the end of the day, it was still Kurosaki Ichigo who chose to fight instead of bow or run away, and Sousuke can respect him enough as a former formidable enemy to give credit where it’s due.

Ichigo made his choices, just as Sousuke made his own, and they’ll both live with them just the same, good and bad.

“No,” Ichigo acknowledges easily, and Sousuke knows no one else who can say that in this situation with no anger or bitterness, just a resigned sort of acceptance as if he made his peace with this truth a long time ago. Instead, he only points his chopsticks at Sousuke again. “But that’s why you have to pay for my sushi and Kisuke doesn’t.”

Sousuke watches him for a moment longer and idly wonders if he’ll ever understand the kind of person Kurosaki Ichigo is. One day, perhaps, but at least in the meantime, he won’t be bored.

He inclines his head just as the first of their dishes arrive.

“As you say,” He acquiesces, and Ichigo flashes a grin like he’s won something important. Oddly enough, it amuses Sousuke more than anything else. But there are worse things than amusement, and for now, he lets it be.

Well, he lets that be anyway. Ichigo is a… puzzle that Sousuke probably won’t tire of putting together for a good while yet, and that suits him just fine.

On the other hand…

He steps quietly into the classroom, shutting the door behind him. The click makes the man sitting behind the desk at the front look up. “Aizen-fukutaichou? This is… unexpected. Did we have a meeting I forgot about?”

Hisakawa’s confusion is understandable. As far as Sousuke can remember, in both timelines, he’s never spoken to the other Shinigami. Hisakawa was insignificant before - sub-par intellect and mediocre strength, not good for anything but canon fodder, which Aizen had plenty of Hollows for - and he’s just as insignificant now. It’s just that he’s also making a nuisance of himself this time around, which is unfortunate for him.

“Hisakawa-sensei,” Sousuke greets with a pleasant smile as he approaches. “We do not, as far as I am aware. I simply wished to speak to you about one of our mutual students.”

“Oh, well, of course,” Hisakawa frowns quizzically. “Which student are you talking about? Is it a schedule conflict? Those should’ve been ironed out months ago though.”

Sousuke supposes the man gets points for touching on the only problem a student attending both their classes could have. Hisakawa teaches history - a core class - while Sousuke only teaches calligraphy as an elective. They don’t have much else in common.

Then again, if schedule conflicts were ironed out months ago, it obviously can’t be that, and there’s no point bringing it up. Sousuke takes it back. Hisakawa is still just as much of a waste of space as Sousuke has always believed him to be. Honestly, the hiring standards these days. If this was Shiba Kaien’s competition for the lieutenant seat, no wonder Ukitake refused to fill the position with anyone else even if it meant waiting a decade for the Shiba Clan Head to accept.

“No, it is nothing of that sort,” Sousuke agrees. “But it has come to my attention that Shiba Ichigo-kun has been receiving quite a number of… extracurricular assignments from you.”

Hisakawa immediately bristles, and a sneer slashes itself across his face. “Oh, he’s been complaining, has he?”

“He has mentioned it to me,” Sousuke says mildly.

Hisakawa snorts. “I wasn’t aware Shibas even knew calligraphy existed,” He mutters snidely before saying, louder and more patronizing, “You shouldn’t listen to him, Aizen-fukutaichou. You know how Shibas can be, they’re always exaggerating. I’m not giving Shiba more work than he needs. His history marks could use some work, and I’m trying to help. I hear he wants to graduate in a year, and he can’t do that if he fails a core class.”

Sousuke hums a considering note. “He is in danger of failing? How strange. Shiba-kun takes after his cousin, does he not? Another prodigy.”

Hisakawa’s sneer only grows more pronounced. “They give that title to any clan kid these days, it doesn’t mean anything. Trust me, Shiba’s history marks alone will probably see him here next year, especially if he’s going around whining about not getting special treatment.”

Sousuke raises an eyebrow. “I admit, I am rather surprised by that. You see, I have read some of Shiba-kun’s history papers.” He hasn’t had much of a choice. For whatever reason, Ichigo likes working in his office, and he has the strangest tendency to paper his work all over the floor. And paperwork gets boring, and Ichigo’s thought process can be… interesting, even on the most mundane topics. “I am no expert on the subject of course, but from what I could tell, his work is always thoroughly researched and well-written. Perhaps you should take another look.”

Hisakawa’s face turns steadily red, and he pushes to his feet even as he accuses, “So you think just because he has a clan backing him, he should get special treatment too! I thought better of you, Aizen-fukutaichou.”

Sousuke has to suppress a chuckle but amusement slips into his expression anyway, because Hisakawa’s features darken to something downright hostile. “His marks will stay the same. In fact, I might fail him just on principle! I didn’t think Shiba was a coward too, sending another teacher to beg a better grade out of me just because he can’t handle my class.”

Sousuke stares him down for a long unblinking moment, until Hisakawa is almost twitching from the tension stretched between them. Only when the man opens his mouth again, no doubt to splutter out something belligerent, does Sousuke sigh and drop a hand to his Zanpakutou.

“Well, I did try,” He muses, mostly to himself.

He draws his blade. Hisakawa stares and doesn’t even make a move for his own Zanpakutou. What a fool.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Normally,” Sousuke explains courteously. “I would not bother stepping in on behalf of a student, especially when that student would - I dare say - be rather cross with me should he find out. But we have plans to carry out, and I will not allow something so trivial to hinder them.”

Hisakawa gawps at him. How unsightly.

“You need not worry,” Sousuke adds. “You will not remember a thing.”

Finally, Hisakawa reaches for his Zanpakutou, the first blush of alarm rising in his features. “Wait, have you gone insane, Aizen? What do you think attacking me is even going to do? I- I won’t be threatened-!”

“Shatter,” Sousuke cuts him off, smiling benignly even as his reiatsu swells around them. “Kyouka Suigetsu.”

And Hisakawa’s expression goes slack as the hynosis takes hold, slithering into the deepest recesses of his mind.

“You should be honoured,” Sousuke murmurs. “This will be some of my finest work. After all, anything less and Ichigo-kun might notice. And I would rather not be scolded again.”

(This Is A Time Skip But Also Does Tumblr Not Know How To Center Shit)

[Sight]

Sousuke glances up as a shadow passes through his window before returning to his paperwork. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

A disgruntled noise answers him. “Kis- Urahara-taichou is neck-deep in a new experiment; he’s not gonna notice I’m missing for days, never mind one afternoon.”

“And you decided to come visit me?” Sousuke can’t help but find that amusing, considering their past. “How thoughtful.”

He pauses when Ichigo doesn’t snipe something back, as is fairly standard these days. He looks up. Ichigo isn’t even looking in his direction. Instead, he’s still perched on the windowsill, and his gaze is slanted to one shadowed corner  above the bookshelf across the room.

“…Ichigo-kun?”

Ichigo blinks, then turns to him and hops down into the office. “Hey, so, I figured it out,” He says abruptly. His eyes flit around the room again, and Sousuke notices the way they dart from shadow to shadow before finally focusing on him again. “The seeing into their little shadow world thing.”

Sousuke straightens. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Ichigo lifts a hand, and pale blue light sparks off his fingertips.

Sousuke stares. How fascinating. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen any other Quincy wield reishi so casually.

“I think I can make it so you can see them too,” Ichigo continues. “I’m gonna have to… fiddle with your eyesight a bit though.”

Sousuke pins him with an assessing look before slowly reaching up to take off his glasses. “If you end up blinding me, I will stab you before you make it out of this room.”

Ichigo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, but I’m not gonna do that. Now hold still and close your eyes.”

It takes effort not to flinch, much to Sousuke’s irritation. But the grip he still has around his writing brush tightens anyway when cool fingers touch his eyelids.

It barely feels like anything. There’s a tingle that itches a little, but it’s there and gone within seconds, leaving only an odd chill behind, not unlike getting a cold gust of wind to the face during winter. Ichigo withdraws, and Sousuke opens his eyes.

Nothing looks different. He doesn’t actually need glasses to begin with so everything is clear. He cocks a questioning look at Ichigo, who shakes his head.

“Wait for it,” He murmurs, taking a seat on the edge of Sousuke’s desk and absently shuffling through the top file in the inbox. “They’re not always spying on everyone. But you’re a person of interest to them, you know that, so I think they check in on you pretty often.” He pauses, and his gaze slides across the room before he focuses on the file in his hands again. “Here he comes. Don’t let him see you watching him.”

Sousuke follows his brief line of sight, just in time to see a very familiar blond head bob into view in the shadow cast by the couch set against the wall. It isn’t a very big shadow, a foot high at most, so Sousuke only gets to see the face and part of his neck and a little of the high white collar of his uniform, but it’s enough.

The next second, he’s reaching for one of his books and flipping it open like that was why he looked up from his paperwork at all. But now that he can see that he’s being watched, can sense it even, and so blatantly too, the urge to simply get up and run the Quincy through for his gall is tempting. Only the knowledge that he can’t at the moment stays his hand.

Can he hear us? Sousuke scrawls on a spare piece of paper.

“No,” Ichigo mutters back. “I tested it. It’s like a soundproofed window. I mean, it is now.” He smirks triumphantly out of sight of the Quincy. “Before I figured it out, it was like one of those one-way mirrors. Now we can see them too. But we can’t hear them, and they can’t hear us. They might know how to lip-read though, so be careful anyway.”

Well, obviously. Giving the game away this early would be foolish.

Sousuke watches through his periphery as the Quincy gives them both a last cursory blank look before his head moves out of the shadow and disappears again.

“Jugram Haschwalth,” Sousuke murmurs, surveying his office before turning his attention to Ichigo. “And they can see through every shadow in Soul Society?”

“As far as I can tell, yeah,” Ichigo scowls darkly. “They’re a bunch of regular Peeping Toms.” He grins for a moment, all teeth. “You would’ve made great friends.”

Sousuke narrows a reprimanding look at him. Ichigo just grins wider, not at all repentant, but he doesn’t push further either.

“What should we do now?” He asks instead. “I’m still working on figuring out a way to get through, but at least we can see them. Do we just keep doing what we’re doing and try not to draw their attention?”

“Yes,” Sousuke decides. “But also, mark down who they look in on most, who they consider to be the biggest threats, and who they’ve overlooked but can be threats to them.” He puts his glasses back on. “How long will I be able to see them?”

Ichigo shrugs. “Eh, not sure. You’re my first guinea pig.” Sousuke sighs. At least Ichigo looks a little sheepish now. “We can do a few tests over the weekend or something when I don’t have work. I probably should get back now.”

“I thought you said Urahara wouldn’t notice,” Sousuke says sardonically.

“He won’t,” Ichigo confirms. “But Hiyori will. She’s yelling at the science department at the moment though, and that always takes at least an hour, so I figured I’d take the chance to come show you this-” He waves a hand in the direction of the shadow Jugram was in. “-since I finally got it down this morning.”

Sousuke glances lingeringly at him. You could have waited, he almost says, but the words don’t come in the end, and a moment later, Ichigo is halfway out the window again.

“Anyway, see ya later,” He calls back briskly. “I finally got my first paycheck yesterday so I bought groceries. If you want free dinner, swing ’round my place and I’ll feed you. And we can talk more about the Peeping Toms.”

And then he’s gone in a rush of Shunpo, leaving Sousuke to stare after him, feeling strangely wrong-footed.

But then, Ichigo has a habit of leaving him that way.

Sousuke sighs again, puts it out of his mind, and gets back to work, firmly ignoring the blond-haired spy that sidles back into his office via the shadow in one corner of the ceiling this time.

But he can’t wait until Ichigo figures out a way to get through. He’s chopping the head off of this one personally.