#FINALLY a deet sheet for my guy!

[generic-whumperz]

“The Aid” (Character Sheet)

How it began /vs/ where we are now (Picrew)

Playlist | Vibes | Ability Breakdown | Masterlist | Character Info |

Overview: The morning after his 18th birthday, a Mystic telepathic empath sells himself into high-class slavery at a Chattel Services Inc. facility in order to help his family flee from a war-ravaged and disease-ridden post-apocalyptic world. Stripped of his name, he is addressed only by his newly appointed ID number and later his trained designation title—The Aid. He is quickly bought by Madame Eleanor Sullivan, a So-Cal socialite, and the prestigious Sullivan family matriarch, to serve her as her live-in caregiver and confidant. After her death five years later, The Aid is bequeathed to Eleanor’s troubled and sadistic son, Wyatt. Surviving a year and a half of Wyatt’s draconian rein as his new Master, The Aid’s once plentiful optimism runs out when Wyatt’s relentless torture has no end in sight. That is, until one fateful day, a bloody and badly wounded stranger is brought to him, reigniting his hope for escape.  

Full name: [REDACTED]

Role: Main lead protagonist (Caretaker turned Whumpee)

Date of Birth & sign: February 10, 2007 (25), Aquarius (story takes place in the year 2032)

Gender: cis-male

Sexuality: *perpetually confused*

Height: 5’5”

Weight/body type/build: (when not being starved) slender with lean muscle, more on the petite side with compact features; ideally he likes being 135-ish lbs (currently 125lbs soaking wet)

Hometown: Cincinnati, Ohio

Family Members: [REDACTED]

Left/right handed: ambidextrous

Fav genre of music & anthem: alternative/indie, Devil's Advocate by The Neighbourhood

Occupation: slave; designation: Grand Servant, Mystic Domestic Home Aid (professional bitch)

Ethnicity (+ American): white boi (European origin— mostly British, Scottish, Polish, Norwegian, Swedish, and German)

Hair color & length: chocolate brown; (ideally) cropped short, longer on top, brushed to the side. Straight, but slightly wavy when grown out. Facial hair: ideally clean shaven and well-groomed elsewhere, doesn’t have much body hair, will shave it off regardless.

Hygiene: very clean and hygienic, hates being dirty and smelly, takes immense pride in his physical appearance. The kind of guy that has a 10-step skin routine and loves nothing more than new skin care products.

Eye color: chestnut brown. Large almond-shaped hooded eyes, wears glasses

Skin tone: very fair with blue/cool undertones

Facial features: combo of squared & rounded head, square jaw with strong & pointed chin, pointy lips with prominent Cupid’s bow & heavy lower lip, droopy & downturned nose (now with a jagged bend on the bridge from a few badly healed breaks), manicured straight brows with slight soft rounded arch, squared ears that stick out slightly

Mannerisms: internal dialogue/thoughts do not always match spoken words and actions. Confines most facial expression to his eyes which are constantly shifting around and observing surroundings. Small half-smiles that don't reach his eyes. Silent sighs a lot. Generally very still and goes unnoticed. Quiet, soft steps. Mild-mannered. Feels too much all of the time. On high alert. Small nods and head tilts. Lip/side of mouth twitches when thinking hard, confused, or on edge. Shifts jaw a lot.

Nervous ticks: flushes/blushes, rubs fingertips, picks at cuticles/skin picking, chews/sucks in bottom lip, avoids eyes contact & keeps head down, eyes dart, stiff body language, balls hands into fists, lip & cheek twitches, occasional nose rubbing

Posture: straight and proper (currently doing the best he can)

Style: Whatever Madame Eleanor dressed him in! Usually wearing his custom designer Aid uniform complete with a metal o-ring collar. When at home, usually just in lounge wear.

Health: Originally very healthy before all the torture started and was very active. Former high school track star. Now has chronic pain and is addicted to painkillers. Currently in physical therapy and can’t walk for extended periods of time. Vegetarian. Known allergies: shellfish, penicillin, pineapple, pollen, chamomile, nickel metal, dust. Mental health is in the gutter (on anti-psychotic, mood stabilizer, and neuron blocker to nullify his telepathic abilities), anxious, depressed, suffering from psychosis. Having a bad time. Now missing some teeth and has a chipped tooth from Wyatt beating him up.

Piercings/tattoos: ears pierced and has 24k gold ear cuff. One tattoo on upper left shoulder of his CSI given ID number: 070210

Birthmarks/scars: too many scars to count at this point. But noticeable ones on face: long, u-shaped cut spanning under right cheek, a vertical nic on the tip of chin, and a long faint slice across his left temple. 1.5” scar on right palm and top of hand that he usually keeps covered up/hidden from himself. Born with a bilateral cleft lip and now has two C-shaped scars running between the points of his lip and nostrils.

Language(s): English, some Spanish

Personality: before Wyatt—happy, warm and approachable, charming, compassionate, helpful, confident, obedient, subservient, well-mannered, thoughtful, self-sacrificing people-pleaser. With Wyatt—combative, snappy & short, paranoid, jumpy, nervous, closed off and cold, angsty, vengeful, hopeless, depressive.

Vices: weed, panic cleans

Voice: measured, even tone, modulated and silvery. Typical North American accent.

Smells like: clean, zesty and sweet, like aloe, cactus flower, with a hint of citrus.

Face claim(s): I have been going back and forth with this forever. No one will quite look exactly like him, but I’ve finally concluded, after much deliberation, that he looks a combination of Iwan Rheon (left and top middle) and this random Russian guy I found on Pinterest, Arseniy Popov (bottom middle & right). However, both of them are a bit older than he is, so just 🌈imagine🌈 them aged down a little bit. Also, yes, it’s more than ironic that the guy who plays one of Wyatt’s character inspirations, Ramsy fucking Bolton, is also an Aid face claim. Full circle moment or cosmic horror? You decide.

This pic is slay and serving cunt (judging plebs with Eleanor)

Character inspiration: personality and ability-wise only—Deanna Troi (Star Trek TNG), June Osborne (Handmaid’s Tale), Peta Mellark (Hunger Games), Will Graham (NBC Hannibal)

Other: has two trackers, one embedded in his back between shoulder blades, the other in the back of his neck.

Character sheet filled out from his POV, post-Wyatt

[therealvalkyrie]

Basil Part 1

Pairing/setting: Pro-hero!Bakugou Katsuki x Female!Reader

Summary: After bringing home Bakugou from a bar, you invite him to stay for breakfast.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, kissing, mentions of sex, soft bakugou, aged up characters

AN: I’m sending it lmao. Figured I’d just drop this and go to sleeb, then maybe I’ll find the motivation to finish the second part tomorrow. We shall see!! Don’t forget to come tell me what you think:) Be kind to yourself and others!! ~valkyrie

Something different wakes you this morning. The familiar presence of your cat, Tonic, curled next to your head on the pillow isn’t it, and it’s not your alarm. You crack open a heavy eye and close your dry mouth. Judging by the pale cloudless sky visible through the window, it’s not time for you to get up yet. Was it a noise? A neighbor? A dream? You try to think back on what you’d been dreaming about in your sleep, but the visuals get hazier by the second as you blink lazily. The urge to stretch and your body washes over you quietly, achingly, and you start to roll onto your right side, away from the cat, only to be prevented by a body across your waist. Alarm jolts through you as you glance down. A head of disheveled blonde hair nuzzled into your side greets your gaze. Then, as your eyes slide down the very naked body attached to the hair, you remember.

Oh. Right.

It’s the man from the bar. The one with striking eyes and an attitude problem who nevertheless charmed his way into your pants with drinks and well-timed wit. It’s the man who tucked you under his arm as you giggled your way out of the bar, made out with you in the back of the taxi, and fucked you until you couldn’t think straight. Bakugou Katsuki.

The memory brings a lethargic smile to your dry lips and a warmth to the rest of your body as you experimentally ghost your fingers down his naked back. He looks tranquil here, torso rising and falling easily in sleep, arm thrown over your stomach, and head using your underboob as a pillow. Your sheets are bunched around your tangled legs but you still feel comfortably warm from his body heat. He’s practically like a furnace, skin hot and slightly sweaty on yours.

Eventually, after staring at him through soft eyes for what should be an embarrassingly long time (but really, you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, not when he’d devoured your body with his eyes the night before), you stretch your arms as much as you can without disturbing him and reach for your phone on the bedside table. The screen lights up as you tug out the charging cord, displaying the time (6:13) and a flurry of notifications from your girls’ night group chat. Scrolling lazily through without bothering to open the app, you read the conversation in reverse while tracing gentle circles on Bakugou’s toned back:

carolina, 6:00: ferny have u been murdered in the night

carolina, 5:59: i am alive…………………….barely

Then, it’s arguments and teasing about another friend, Ichika, leaving with a “short ass man,” in Carolina’s words, and then confirmations of everyone arriving safely home. So you weren’t the only one who left with someone last night? It makes you feel better about abandoning your friends. It wasn’t that they couldn’t take care of themselves, more that nights out with your girls were few and far between, given your hectic schedules. You know they wouldn’t hold it against you, but you were looking forward to spending time with them. Scroll, scroll, scroll.

carolina, 00:46: we want details in the morn😈

Mei, 00:45: in that case, take your time sweaty😘

Mei, 00:44: WHAT THE FUCK????

ichika, 00:44: Ground Zero??

Of course they’d discuss this, thirsty whores, you think, grinning. You knew who he was the second he leaned up against the bar next to you with a cocky smile and a pick-up line; it’s not like you’re completely oblivious, unlike Mei, even if you don’t generally keep up with the latest pro-hero gossip. And he didn’t let you forget it, either. Fresh heat rises up your neck as echoes of last night ring in your mind.

“Say it, baby, who’s fuckin’ you so good?”

“Y-you are!”

“And who am I?”

“Ground Ze-ero!”

The ghostly feeling of his fingers digging into your hips makes your thighs twitch together.

ichika, 00:44: omg no way

Mei, 00:44: who?

carolina, 00:44: of course i saw, that was motherfucking bakugou katsuki!!!!!!

Mei, 00:43: y’all see that smokeshow she left with? we won’t be hearin shit until tmrw

carolina, 00:41: or don’t;) we know you’re occupied

ichika, 00:41: lmk when you get home safe, love!!

When you’re finally caught up, you open your phone and type out a clumsy response with one thumb.

Ferny, 6:18: was not murdered, promise i will give deets later

Ferny, 6:18: he’s still here uwu

A low, sleepy grunt pulls your gaze from your phone screen and onto Bakugou. He’s finally stirring, nose pressing into the pudge of your stomach and body twisting further into the sheets.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you murmur, locking your phone and tossing it back onto the nightstand.

His head jerks up and he looks momentarily caught off-balance, guarded, before he turns to look at your face and his expression softens.

“Mornin, beautiful,” he mumbles in a gravelly morning voice, pushing up the bed to press his lips to yours. Your cat mewls at the inconvenient shift in the pillow and brushes down your body to settle by your feet instead. Indulging for a moment in the soft glow of kissing him, your arms loop around his neck and his warm hand ghosts over your cheek, down your neck, across your clavicle. You let out a singular satisfied moan at the feeling of his bare chest against yours, then gently pull away.

“I have morning breath,” you complain with a pout. He only smirks devilishly.

“You taste alright to me,” he quips before sneaking another, faster kiss to your lips.

You squeal and push him back playfully with an indignant, “Bakugou!”

“Alright, alright,” he concedes defeat, flopping on his back next to you.

Finally, without his body practically pinning you to the mattress, you’re able to sit up and stretch satisfyingly. Your back gives a series of gratifying pops as you yawn and twist, and Bakugou makes an alarmed sound behind you.

“Jesus, you sound like fuckin bubblewrap! Is your back okay?”

“Oh, it’s fine! Always happens when I sleep funny.”

“I dunno, you should maybe get that checked out.”

“After coffee,” you agree noncommittally, then lean down to scoop Tonic from where he’d retreated on the end of the bed and extricate your legs from the tangle of sheets and blankets. “I just have to feed this little guy, and then I was thinking… breakfast? There’s a great bakery across the street.” You’re suddenly shy, voice breathier with the suggestion. 

The protocol you usually employ for one night stands is simple: if you’re at their apartment, make your excuses and skedaddle before anything more intimate like food can happen; if they’re at yours, make your excuses and kick them out before they start doing weird shit to your kitchen. But Bakugou feels different. There isn’t an ounce of regret or shame or embarrassment when you think back on the previous night, and the morning already feels intimate, with its lazy kisses and easy banter. You wouldn’t mind spending more time with him, but you can’t tell if he feels the same. Or if he’s waiting for an excuse to leave and get back to his life.

“Let me make you breakfast,” comes the unexpected reply, and you twist to look at him, eyebrows arched in surprise at both the acceptance of your invitation and his willingness to cook for you. He must mistake it for doubt, though, because he looks suddenly defensive, brow creasing in a frown. “Hey, I can cook, get that dumb look off your face!”

“No, no, that’s not it,” you placate, leaning back and into his side while cradling Tonic to your chest. “I’d love for you to make me breakfast.” You press a kiss to his shoulder as he loops his arm around yours and grumbles something too quiet to hear. “It’s just,” you mumble into his skin, “I don’t have much in the way of a stocked pantry.”

“What do you mean?” You glance up to meet his perplexed gaze.

“I mean, my roommate travels a lot for work and he’s more of a cook than I am,” you explain, not missing the way Bakugou tenses when you mention your male roommate. But he doesn’t say anything, just blinks down at your cat who’s spilled from your arms and across his chest like an uncontainable liquid. “Sorry” —you wince, trying and failing to scoop him back towards you— “he’s very affectionate.”

“S’okay,” he mutters, blinking twice more before focusing back on you. “Let’s at least see what you’ve got, I could probably whip something up.”

You shrug. “Well, okay. Might be a challenge.” At this, he chuckles darkly and narrows his eyes.

“I love a challenge.”

You giggle and push up to sitting again, legs dangling over the edge of the bed and Tonic cradled to your chest. “Alright, Gordon Ramsey, let’s take a look.”

Sauntering over to your closet, you can feel Bakugou’s gaze on you until he stands up as well and starts casting around for his clothes from the previous night.

“Oh,” you start as you reach for a hoodie from the top shelf, dragging his eyes back to you. “If you want some clean clothes, my ex left some stuff that’d fit you.”

He makes a choked sound behind you, then clears his throat. “Uhm, no. Thank you.” It’s strained, and he doesn’t say how he’d rather get food poisoning than wear the clothes of another man who fucked you. The thought makes his skin feel tight and sends an unfamiliar rush of jealousy through him.

You only shrug. “Suit yourself.”

You dress in comfortable silence, trying not to steal glances at his incredible abs while you do it. 

In the hallway, you point at a door, holding Tonic in your arms. “Bathroom’s through there, I think I should have a new toothbrush in the cupboard if you want. The kitchen’s this way, once you’re done.”

He grunts thanks and ducks through the door, flicking on the light switch as he goes.

It puts you slightly off-balance to be aware of someone else in your apartment as you feed Tonic and open up your living room curtains to let the morning sun stream in. You stand there for a moment, looking out over the city and willing your nerves to settle. You like Bakugou, you want him to stay. So just don’t fuck it up.

You hear the bathroom door close and take a deep breath.

In the kitchen, Bakugou stares at your empty cupboards and fridge for a long moment while you stand beside him, awkwardly rubbing your neck.

“What do you eat?” he barks in disbelief, turning to look at you like you’ve got two heads.

“Sunlight and water.”

“What?!”

“It’s my quirk! I, um, photosynthesize.” You cross the kitchen to one of your many plants, a large fern that spreads across half the wall. “Here,” you motion Bakugou over, kneeling down to touch the dirt in its planter. “Watch.”

Bakugou crouches next to you, a confused scowl still etched on his face, but nevertheless looks to where your fingers gently dig into the potting soil.

As you close your eyes and concentrate, pushing will out of your fingers, you feel the fern’s whole network of roots, stalks, and leaves, pulsing with the energy of life. Concentrating, you encourage it to flow towards you, splitting the dirt with a sprout. You allow a smile of satisfaction to split across your face when you hear Bakugou’s gasp of surprise when the sprout bursts into the air and unfurls.

You open your eyes to find his lips slightly parted in awe and his eyebrows raised where they’re normally pinched.

“I photosynthesize and make plants grow.” You lean forward to lightly stroke the little fern’s softly curling leaves. “I can still eat real food, though. It’s just cheaper to get some sun.”

Bakugou leans forward as well, one hand reaching hesitantly toward the fern.

“You did that?” He looks at you in awe.

You nod, smiling lightly. His eyes seem to search yours for a moment, then an air of contemplation crosses his face and he takes a breath.

“Can you do basil?”

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje 

Previous | Next​

Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

[fluffymisha97]

Morning after

One-Shot

Summary: As the written in the title. ;) 

You were woken up by the blinding sunlight that was pushing its way through your blinds in the bedroom. You groaned a bit feeling how your body ached and your head as well. You had gone out with a few friend to a party the night before. You could almost taste the drinks you had on your breath. You felt the urge to brush your teeth. A groan beside you startled you.

You shot up, clutching the sheet to your body. The groan came from your ' not so subtle hookup' from last night. You almost had to pinch yourself. It seemed highly unlikely that such a gorgeous man was in your bed. His chest was decorated with some tattoos that you seemed remember tracing with your fingers last night. He looked so peaceful and innocent. However none of what you did last night could hardly be seen as something innocent.

Feeling your mouth run dry, you found your underwear and put on a robe. Quietly you tiptoed out of your bedroom to go to the kitchen. As you were getting some water and were enjoying the peace and quiet. Your mind wandered back to last night. You remembered each caress, touch and kiss. You felt the all giddy inside. You were so wrapped up in your day dreaming that you hadn't noticed your roommate approaching you.

"Sooo somebody got some action last night. Wow...omg just wow. You're so lucky girl, it's annoying."

You almost screamed and jumped up in the air when you first heard her while spilling most of your water.

"Jesus, Abby! You scared the crap out of me. What are you even doing home?! You said you were going to see your parents."

"Yeah yeah yeah. Enough about me. We HAVE to talk about who's in your bed. Give me all the deets."

"hmmm how about no? What's the big deal? You don't have to sound like I never bring a guy home like I'm a old maid or is it spinster?"

Abbys eyes rolled in the back her head as she pondered about wacking you in the head.

"Girl, don't be stupid. You really don't know who he is?"

"Of course I know who he is. His name is Chris short for Christopher. I would never bring someone home without knowing that. Abby please."

"Well clearly you don't. That guy's like really famous. His name is Chris Evans. Smoking hot. But you obviously know that. He's best known for playing Captain America in those Marvel movies that your brother talks about."

"Are you kidding me? Well he never mentioned that to me."

"Oh gee you don't say. Don't you find that odd? Maybe he's not as clean and great like everyone is making him out to be. A little bit sketchy noooo?"

"I don't think so Abby. I think there's a perfect explanation for not telling me. Just look at us right now, that's probably what he would like to avoid. He's a normal person too you know. You're talking like a crazy person. "

Abby was about to reply when a cough startled her causing you both to turn around. Chris was standing in the doorway peaking out. He was wearing his pants that hung dangerously low and shirt turned inside out. His hair was in complete disarray which was partly your fault.

"Oh sorry. Did we wake you up?"

You quickly tried to apologize for you and your roommate's loud voices.

"Well you guys aren't exactly the most quiet people in the morning."

Chris said laughing. You visibly relaxed hearing him say this.

"Haha believe me Y/N ain't quiet at any time of the day. Judging from what I heard last night, you would already know that."

You felt your entire face heat up and you elbowed Abby in the ribs or tried to. Wanting to shut her up. Not that she seemed to get the message. She just went on and on. Chris only seemed amused by it and didn't really say anything. You locked eyes with Chris and felt yourself lost in those deep blue eyes. After a while Chris wasn't really paying attention to what was being said and just looked at you.

Abby ranted on and on while moving around the kitchen. Chris had moved closer to you with a small grin on his face. He came over to stand where you stood. Chris payed no attention Abby who was still talking when he leaned down to kiss you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hands went up in his already messed up hair.

You had to pull away to catch your breath. That man could could bring you to your knees just by kissing you. Abby coughed loudly to get your attention. You turned to her whilst Chris was still holding you close. Intoxicated by you.

"Abby, didn't you have somewhere you needed to be at?? Preferably now..."

"Y/N what kind of friend would I be if I left you alone with a man you've just met?... A very good looking man I might add BUT Stranger danger."

"Abbs, you would be the best friend if you left and didn't listen in on my sex life. There's something called boundaries."

"Judging by what I heard last night, I would say you got enough to last a while year and..."

"Abby, if you don't leave now... I swear to God. GO buy some headphones or earplugs while you're out, I don't want you listening in again."

"Okay okay. I'll leave. I can tell when I'm not wanted."

You had to laugh. You tried to tune her out while turning your attention to Chris. On her way out of your shared apartment, she yelled out.

"Imma leave now. You get 1 hour and then imma be back. Show some self control. And please do me a favor and don't have sex on my coffee table. It was my grandmothers and it's vintage."

Both you and Chris burst into laughter as she finally left.

"I'm so sorry that you had to see that. She's really inappropriate and nosy. I'm really... "

Chris didn't let you finish before capturing your mouth again.

"That's really distracting when you do that. I suppose, I should ask if you're hungry that's probably what a good host would do right?"

Chris played with a strand of your hair

"Hmmm that's probably true. I'm hungry alright but it ain't for food."

Chris kissed you again and you both stumbled backwards to the couch. You couldn't help but giggle feeling consumed by him.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Steve Rogers x Reader: The Nutcracker (AU) Part 1

[Author’s Note:  Sooooo I started this story last year and never got around to finishing it, so I ended up taking the parts I’d written off tumblr.  This time, I finally wrote an end to this story and felt like it’d be a nice thing to post around the holidays.

It’s an Avengers fanfic, but it’s the story of the Nutcracker (more like the Barbie one where the reader is not a little girl lol)

Warning, these are long]

   With a sigh, you watched the clock tick from a spot on the floral-patterned couch as you fiddled with a pencil and blank sheet of paper and thought of something to draw.  Your younger brother busied himself playing with the action figures your grandparents got him as a Christmas Eve present.  He was so spoiled it drove you crazy.  It seemed he got everything he wanted at the drop of a hat.  Grandparents are supposed to spoil you a little, but it felt like everyone took part in spoiling him.  Meanwhile, you worked hard and tried to earn what you wanted on your own.

      Your grandfather entered the sitting room, pocket watch in hand.  “Your Aunt Lily has arrived,” he announced.  “Why don’t you kids help her with the bags?”

     He was so cute.  To him, the two of you would always be “kids.”  You immediately got off the couch to help, but paused.

    “_(brother’s name),” you called to your brother.  He glanced up from his action figures.  “Are you going to help?”

    He resumed moving the action figures around.  “I’ll be there in a minute.”  Translation in little brother language: Never.

   Sensing your irritation, your grandpa nodded.  “I appreciate you helping out, Gumdrop.  Thank you.”

    You couldn’t be upset anyway because Aunt Lily was here!  She was definitely the cool aunt that took you out shopping and encouraged you to be yourself.  You had actually formed a friendship as you grew more mature.  Only problem is, she was almost constantly trying to interest you with a guy.  Every Christmas it was the same thing; her gesturing to handsome strangers and giving you suggestive looks.  Still, she was very fun to be around.

    “____________!” she greeted as you emerged from the hallway into your grandparents’ kitchen where some of the relatives gathered to welcome her.  “There’s my favorite niece!  Merry Christmas.”

    “Merry Christmas!” You said with a laugh as she pulled you into a big hug.  After a long squeeze, Aunt Lily released you.  “How was the trip?”

    “It was good!  Long, but good.”

    “Awesome,” you nodded.  “Let me help you with your things.”

   “You’re such a sweetheart,” she grinned.  “There are a few goodies in the trunk of my car if you don’t mind grabbing them for me.  Thank you so much!”  You grinned back and headed to the front door to slide on your boots.  A part of you hated stepping out into the snowy afternoon.  The icy winds chilled you to the bone instantly, but seeing everything clad in sparkling white was worth it.  You folded your arms and hurried past the dozen cars belonging to other relatives until you reached Aunt Lily’s.  After retrieving the big Christmas bags and a suitcase, you locked the car and went inside.

   “I think that’s everything,” you stated, kicking the snow off your boots at the doormat.  Some snow may have gotten on your Captain America socks.  Ugh.

   “Thank you again!”  Aunt Lily took a few bags off your hands.  As you helped her put gifts under the tree, you both got caught up.  She told you about her most recent road trip, the hotel she stayed at and even the celebrity she ran into, while you listed in wonder.  In turn, you told her about college and all the latest friend group drama.  After everything was unpacked, Aunt Lily reached under the tree and picked out a wrapped gift.  “This,” she began, handing it to you, “is for you.  An early Christmas gift from me.”

   “Oh,” you smiled.  “Thank you!”  You in turn grabbed a particular gift from under the tree and handed it to her.  “This is for you!”

    She gave you a kiss on the cheek.  “You’re such a sweetie.”

    After unloading the remaining things from her car, you found a quiet place away from the family hustle and bustle to open your gift from her.  Your brother came running into the room.

   “Look what Aunt Lily got me!”  He held up a box of building blocks set.  The picture on the front of the box showed what the finished product would look like.  This one resembled superhero compound, complete with the heroes in figurine form.  “What did you get, ___________?” He asked as he climbed over into your personal space.  But of course, he couldn’t leave you in peace for five minutes.

   You rolled your eyes.  “I don’t know yet, bro, I haven’t had the chance to open it yet.”

   “Oh,” he shrugged.  “Well then, carry on.”

   With a few rips, you tore through the wrapping paper like you had when you were a kid just for fun.  As soon as you saw the red, white, and blue shield you gasped.  

   It was a Captain America themed nutcracker!  He was so adorable too!  His outfit was red-white, and blue, and sort of looked more like the usual princely garb a nutcracker would wear instead of his usual costume, but he held the shield in one hand.

   “Oh wow!  This is so neat!”  You exclaimed.  

   “I’m so glad you like it,” Aunt Lily said.  She had entered the room to watch your reaction.  It was no secret that you went crazy for this sort of thing.  You were a total geek when it came to Marvel movies as well as Marvel-related merch, and you were proud.

   “I wanna see!”  Your brother whined as he struggled to reach for it.

   “__(brother’s name)__,” Aunt Lily scolded.  “That is ____________’s.  I got you something of your own.  Why don’t you go put it together?”

   He immediately became preoccupied with his own project, and you mouthed the words “thank you” to your aunt.  A dazzling smile played on her lips in response.  She was the coolest.

   The whole family squeezed into your grandparents’ dining room for dinner. It was a lively meal with people chatting and catching up.  Some relatives lived far away and could only visit a few times a year, so this was kind of a big deal.  You were asked a million questions about college, your part-time job, and friends. You filled everyone in on the deets about classes and the part-time job you got working at the local bookstore.

   “We’re so proud of you,” Aunt Lily said, and you couldn’t help but grin back. That was always nice to hear.

   “This one is so smart.  Always has her nose in a book, whether it is for school or just because she enjoys reading,” your mother said.  You blushed at the attention.

   “That’s good,” your grandma said.  “Keep it up.  Keep learning.”

   A few conversations later, the family went to their rooms to get changed into pajamas for the evening.  There would be a Christmas movie or two in the living room shortly.  Since your brother was the youngest in the family, he got to pick the movie.  The two of you exchanged knowing looks, and he chose Polar Express.

   “Yesss!” you gave him a big hug.

   As much as the two of you could be annoyed with each other, he was still your brother.  Both of you sat next to each other in pajamas and shared a bowl of popcorn as your grandpa tried to figure out how to work the DVD player.  Technology had developed to the point where any movie could be accessed digitally in an instant, and he was still trying to understand how DVD players worked.  You felt bad, but you and your brother tried to hold back giggles.

   At the start of the movie, you were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.  As it progressed though, you began to feel tired. Before you knew it, you were drifting off to sleep.

   - - - - 

   “I’m sorry, __________,” someone sobbed.  You were awake instantly, blinking your eyes open.  The living room was empty.  It was after midnight, and everyone must have gone to bed already. The TV was off, but a cozy fire warmed the room with a dim light from the fireplace.  You rubbed your eyes and focused on your brother who stood in front of you, crying.

   “What?  What’s wrong?” you asked with a sigh.

   “I...I didn’t mean to do it.  I just wanted to play…”

   Your eyes went from his teary eyes to what he held in his hand.  It was your Captain America nutcracker.  His arm had been twisted at an odd angle.  Your brother held the shield, which had broken off, in his other hand.  Your first instinct was to get angry.

   “What did you do?” you demanded.  “You shouldn’t have been playing with him in the first place. Aunt Lily gave him to me.  You got your own present!”            

   “I know, I’m sorry,” he cried.  “I didn’t mean to break him.”

   You sighed again.  It was apparent he really felt bad, and you knew he would never have broken something of yours on purpose.

   “It’s okay,” you said finally.  “Well, it’s not okay, but I forgive you.  Thank you for coming to me instead of trying to hide it.”

   Relief washed over his face that you weren’t going to freak out on him, but he still showed signs of guilt.  “I can get you a new one.”

   “No, no, that’s okay.  This one is special from Aunt Lily, and I’m not going to give up on him just because he had a little rough patch.”  You gently took the nutcracker from your brother.  “You don’t give up on people just because they’re broken.”  

   You focused your attention on the Captain America nutcracker in hand.  He still needed a little fixing.  Your brother went and fetched some glue from the miscellaneous drawer in the kitchen. You used a ribbon from the package Aunt Lily gave your earlier to make a sort of temporary sling to keep the nutcracker’s arm in place.  You looked into his painted blue eyes and smiled.  They seemed to sparkle now.  Perhaps they had always been this bright, and you just hadn’t noticed before.

   Your brother returned with the glue, and helped you reattached the shield. He did a good job.

   “There,” you said.  “He’s looking pretty good.”

   “Yeah, he is.”  Your brother agreed.  Then, he wiggled his eyebrows.  “Good enough to kiss?”

   You gave him a look.

   “What?  I heard you talking to your friend on the phone once.  I know you think Captain America is ‘hawt,’ so don’t even deny it.”

   You rolled your eyes and grabbed the nearest couch pillow to fling at his face. “Alright, you just ruined the brother-sister bonding moment.”

   He stuck his tongue out at you.

   “What are you, two years old?” You threw another couch pillow.  “Anyway, it’s late.  I’m going back to sleep.”  You gathered the pillows again and fluffed them up before lying back down on the couch.  “I think I’ll stay out here and enjoy the fire.”

   “Okay, I’m going to my room,” your brother said.  “Goodnight, thanks for not killing me.”

   “Goodnight,” you opened a sleepy eye to watch him leave the room.  Then, you chuckled.  “Oy, I’m tired…”

               - - - -

   Crash.  You were ripped from a cozy, deep slumber to the sound of glass shattering.  A loud bang sounded.  More glass shattered.  You would have blamed your grandparents’ cat if it weren’t for the fact that they haven’t had a cat in years.

   That’s when you really woke up.  Fear gripped you as the sounds came from behind the couch, near the Christmas tree. It had to be an intruder.  But what the hay were they doing near the tree? Stealing presents?  A part of you was scared to look.  Still, you slowly and quietly poked your head up just enough to peek over the back of the couch.

   What you saw amazed and horrified you.

   Your Captain America nutcracker was launching his shield at what looked like a miniature Chitauri.

   “What the actual heck?” you whispered.

   The Chitauri was decapitated, but another leapt out from behind the Christmas tree.  The nutcracker charged at him and engaged in hand-to-hand combat.   More jumped in, and he fought them off skillfully.  But he didn’t seem to notice another sneaking up behind him.

   You weren’t sure what came over you.  Whether this was a dream or not, you did not want to see Captain America get mauled by one of those creepy things.  You hurried around the couch.

   “Watch out!” you called out, and fortunately, you reached him in time. Without thinking, you stomped your foot. Ew.  There might be creepy chitauri gunk under your slipper now…

   Your nutcracker looked up at you, his painted blue eyes seemingly sparkled more now.

   “Thanks,” he said.

   “No problem…” You managed a smile and a shrug.  This was crazy.  It had to be a dream.

   He seemed to sense your unease.  “This must be strange for you,” he said as he resumed fighting oncoming enemies.  “I will explain soon.”

   “Sure,” you nodded, biting your lip as you noticed a particularly large group of chitauri crowding around your feet.  It was no trouble.  A few swift kicks sent them all flying.  

   “Hm, darling,” a strangely familiar voice spoke.  “This isn’t going to work…I cannot afford any flaws in my plan.”

   “Loki?” you said in disbelief.  “But it’s been years since the first Avengers came out…Why are you still the bad guy?”

   He emerged from behind the tree, a little shorter than your Captain America nutcracker, except he had used his illusion abilities to look like a mouse. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.  “However, I do know that you are getting in the way.  You’re too tall, I’d rather you be small…” He waved his scepter, and suddenly everything around you began to grow.  

   Or rather, it was you who was shrinking.  

   The chitauri that were coming at your feet so pitifully became more of a threat as you reached their eye level.  You squeaked as they crowded you, one grabbing your arm.  Just then, a few of them roared and began to back off.

   Your nutcracker came barreling into the mob, quickly wrapping a wooden arm around you and pulling you from the danger.

   “Y-you rescued me,” you gasped.  “Thank you!”

   “Of course,” he replied.  “But don’t thank me yet, _________.”  He released you, but kept holding your hand as he raced away.  “We’ve got to get out of here and back to the Kingdom.”

   “What?”

   “Yes, to find the Sugarplum Princess.  She’s the only one who can change you back and rescue us all from the Wannabe Mouse King.”

   “Oh, goodie.”  You clung to him as he leaped up onto a tree branch.  “And how do we find this Sugar Pear-“

      “Sugarplum Princess,” he corrected gently.  “And I’m not sure.”  The two of you became the climb up the tree.  You had done some tree-climbing as a kid, but this was something else.  

      You wondered why the heck the two of you were climbing the tree if you needed to get back to this “Kingdom.”  Your nutcracker remained at your side, ensuring you didn’t fall whenever your foot slipped on a branch.

   “We have to get to the star of the tree,” he said, as if reading your thoughts.  “It’s our way out.”

   Behind you, a few chitauri-minions began climbing too.  The Mouse King with Loki’s voice shouted commands and threats to them as you and the nutcracker managed to reach the top.

   The star looked so big and bright to you in this size.  Was it just you, or….was it glowing brighter?

   Nutcracker-Steve ushered you closer to the star.  He took your hand in his and touched it to the star.  With that, there was a flash of light, a sensation of falling, and suddenly you felt chilly.

   Opening your eyes, you saw a blanket of white stretching out miles and miles before you.  Snowy mountains stood strong and beautiful to the left of the scene, and a frozen lake far on the right.

   “W-where are we?  This does not look like my grandparents’ living room.”

   “This is the Kingdom,” Steve said.  “This is what I’m fighting to protect.  The Mouse King desperately wants to rule over this place and its people, but we can’t let that happen.  I’ve already wandered so far off track.”

   You had to admit it was beautiful here.  Everything was coated in sparkling light, resembling Narnia when the Pevensie children first arrived.  Only you got here through a tree star, not a wardrobe.  And it was still night here.

   “So, what do we do?” you asked, hugging yourself to try and retain some warmth. Steve’s painted eyes seemed to soften sympathetically.

   “I’m sorry about the cold.  Well, I’m sorry about all of this, actually.”

   “It’s fine. You can’t really help it.” Your breath rose up in a cloud through the air with each word.

   “I’ll tell you what,” he said, running a wooden hand down your arm in a pointless attempt to warm you.  “We’ll head to the nearest town for some warm clothes and supplies.  Then we need to find out where the Sugarplum Princess is.”

   “Sure, it seems I don’t have much choice.  I might freeze to death otherwise,” you mumbled.  Steve attached his shield to his back and began trekking through the snow.  You followed in his footsteps, hoping to avoid getting lots of snow in your slippers. Unfortunately, it was inevitable. Before long, snow had gotten into your slippers and melted around your feet, making them ice-cold.  The snow began to pick up, and it seemed to become a blizzard.

   “The Mouse King knows we’re here,” Steve shouted to you.  “He’s trying to make things more difficult.”

   “But of course he has ice powers,” you complained, teeth chattering.

   Not much longer after that, you saw a warm light in the distance.  It glowed faintly through the intense snowfall. The sight of it alone made you think of warm blankets and clothes, sitting comfortable and dry by a fireplace. Oh, you hoped they’d be welcoming.

   “Almost there, _________,” Steve told you.  “We’re almost there.  Hang in there.”

PART 2

[technoplaguearchive]

Cruel To be Kind (3/4)

Holy crap guys I just realized I never posted the rest of this fic here >.< My bad!!!

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Mornings are their own special hell, complete with friends as the tormenting demons.

Pairing: MidoriyaxBakugou / BakuDeku Rating: Teen & Up Category: M/M Fandom: My Hero Academia | Boku No Hero Academia Originally Published: Some time in April 2019 & I can’t remember when on AO3 Chapter: 3 of 4

Previous || Next

The morning signified the start of a new day, a new chance at life. Mornings were a chance to renew oneself and start on the right foot.

Mornings brought with them a sense of peace.

Most people greeted mornings with a smile and a positive outlook, while some others greeted it with a scowl and a middle finger. But no matter how people felt about them, they kept coming and kept signaling a new day.

Mornings brought the chirping of birds in areas that were lucky enough to be graced with them. Mornings brought sunlight gently filtered through windows, blinds, and curtains. Mornings could also bring gentle city noises to life where one could hear greetings being tossed between pedestrians as they started their days.

This morning, however, brought some additional things to the table; a pounding ass headache, nausea, and the sinking feeling that karma was getting Bakugou back for something... No, wait, that sinking feeling was probably still nausea. So scratch the karma bit.

Sitting up in bed was pretty much a no-go, not unless he wanted to spill his guts all over his clean sheets and the floor. So, for now, he was bed bound and on his back staring at the ceiling, he could accept that. Everything was within reach and he could lay here for a few hours. The light filtering through the small gap in his curtains is enough to make him wince, but sadly not easily remedied unless he wanted to roll across the floor to fix it. Which, if he thought too hard about it, even the mere aspect of rolling anywhere was enough to convince his stomach contents to make a break for it. So fuck it, he’d just face the other way and deal with the shitty sunlight.

The birds he couldn't do anything about except turn some music on to cover their stupid happy chirping. So that was the course of action; locate his phone and put some mindless playlist on low until he could crawl his ass to the shower. Was this the dreaded hangover that his friends always complained about? Fuck, why did they keep drinking if this was how they felt? This was fucking god-awful.

Last he could recall he had put his phone on his nightstand but was he remembering last night or remembering another night? That was the real question. He could barely remember what had happened last night and the few snippets he could piece together weren't helpful. Deku had shown up and Bakugou had decided to get piss drunk instead of leaving. Why? And how the fuck had he got home? And who the fuck had let him drink so much?

First things first; find the phone and get some music going so those fucking bird chirps would stop grating his ears.

A heavy hand slaps around the nightstand as far as he can reach, which is just his rough fingertips groping the edge. After several seconds of half-assed searching, he comes up empty and groans loudly into the emptiness of his apartment. Fucking hell he was going to have to sit up or roll over now to find that plastic piece of shit that controlled his life.

Okay, we can do this, he thinks to himself, quickly followed by Fuck. I’m giving myself a pep talk, this is stupid.

The mental pep talk is enough to distract him while he slides his hands in and levels himself into a sitting position. He slams his eyes closed as the world tilts violently to the right in a blast of white and smudged colors, only to open them again when he finds closing them so quickly had only sent the signal to his brain that he was going to pass out, fall over, vomit, or some combination of the three. With this in mind, he cracks heavy lids open and blinks into the filtered sunlight. On any other morning it might have been beautiful but this morning it was aggravating and anger-inducing. At least his drunk ass hadn't turned every light in his place on, that probably would have been absolute hell on his head.

BZZZZZTTTTT

Bakugou twitches at the sudden noise then winces as a new round of pain shoots through his head.

”What the ever loving fuck…”

BZZZZZTTTTT

”Okay, seriously what the fuck is that noise?”

BZZZZZTTTTT

…..

BZZZZZTTTTT BZZZZZTTTTT BZZZZZTTTTT BZZZZZTTTTT

The noise dies off and Bakugou lets loose his second groan of the morning. Thankfully whatever it was seemed to have stopped. Probably something outside.

BZZZZZTTTTT BZZZZZTTTTT BZZZZZTTTTT

”GOD FUCKING DAMMIT WHAT IS THAT?”

His own roar of anger sends him sprawling backward onto the bed like a turtle on its back while his hands clutch his face and tears pool in his eyes.

As if to mock his predicament the noise sounds several more times before it clicks what it is; his phone. Which means that noisy fuck has to be on his nightstand to be making that hellacious racket.

Well, that solved that mystery but now he isn't sure he even wants music with the way his head is pounding. Between the movement, the noise, and his own stress level he's had enough of everything already.

Now that he knows the general whereabouts he gingerly rolls onto his side and slaps a hand out for his nightstand again. This time his hand slides across smooth plastic and he tugs it over with his fingertips, sliding the device into his palm and pulling it to his prone body. Moving absolutely sucked but staying stationary wasn't an option right now. He needed to figure out why it was going off so much.

”Please don't let it be an emergency,” he mutters desperately as he holds the screen before his face and turns the brightness down.

23 messages received.

Twenty. Fucking. Three. Messages.

Who the actual fuck was trying to get ahold of him this badly?

The good news is the messages, as far as he can tell, aren’t in the least bit important. They’re all from the group chat with Ashido, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero. Did those idiots not have hangovers? Kirishima was drinking an awful lot last night, too.

A brief glance through the previews tells him they’re discussing last night. He should probably read over those and see what happened, maybe someone got hurt or lost something… or maybe Ashido got laid and wanted to talk about it. All valid options, really.

First, the music.

Opening his music app he chooses his last playlist and hits shuffle then turns the volume way down. The Bluetooth picks the signal up and soon he can hear it floating gently through the speakers stashed about the bedroom.

With that task out of the way, and the birds now effectively silenced (Fucking finally, chirpy motherfuckers), he sets about figuring out what the idiots are talking about. The messenger app they use for their chat shows several messages privately to him but the majority are in the group. Okay, get the group nonsense out of the way and worry about the private stuff when he was a functional human being again.

He swipes back to the first missed message and sees it’s from Kaminari.

Zappy-Boy: Where did you guys go? I just saw Bakugou storm past back to the bar…? AlienQueen: We’re down here with him. He and Midoriya got in a fight AlienQueen: no surprise, of course

No more messages rolled in after until this morning, before he had even woken up.

AlienQueen: Has anyone heard from Bakugou? Do we know if he made it home? Zappy-Boy: ask Kirishima. Last I saw they were all over each other -_- AlienQueen: fucking hell...again? RIOT: not like that! He got a little trashed last night and I helped him get home. I left him at his door cause he didn’t want me inside AlienQueen: proof of life? RIOT: [image.jpg] AlienQueen: you’re right, he was trashed Zappy-Boy: did anyone check on Midoriya? He looked pretty upset when he showed up again last night AlienQueen: he said he was fine, just tired. Yelling at Bakugou wears a person out, so I get it Zappy-Boy: soooo, I’m gonna be who asks it since you’re all cowards; anyone got the tea? RIOT: I don’t even know what that means Zappy-Boy: the deets! The details! What were they arguing about? AlienQueen: that’s between them, and I wasn’t going to ask RIOT: yeah Bakubro came back in and started downing shots, so probably a fight like they did back in school. AlienQueen: who wants to place bets on the hangover he’s gonna have? RIOT: count me out, I wanna live Zappy-Boy: I’m with Kirishima. I like my head on my shoulders

Gossipy fucking idiots. But at least that filled in the blank of how he got home. He’s tempted to write back and tell them to fuck off but then he’d probably be bombarded, and he didn’t really want to chat much right now.

Next step; flop over and stare at the ceiling while contemplating the hangover and simultaneously trying not to think about the hangover. With an admittedly exaggerated groan, Bakugou rolls off his side and onto his back to stare into the vast emptiness of his bland white ceiling. At least it wasn’t a popcorn ceiling like Kirishima’s place. He didn’t know how that idiot could stand it... then again how often did someone look at their own ceiling?

He suddenly snorts out a laugh as a dark thought strikes him; if someone bottomed enough they probably were intimately familiar with the configuration of their ceiling. The immediate next thought is; Kirishima probably knows his ceiling is popcorn.

Unable to resist the temptation he snaps a picture of his ceiling and thumbs open the private message from his shark-toothed friend.

RIOT: let me know when you wake up. I need to know you’re not dead

Bakugou rolls his eyes at the redhead’s dramatics and sends the picture of his ceiling as a response along with a message.

Blasty: I didn’t know my ceiling was this smooth. Do you know what your ceiling looks like?

The little dots signaling an incoming response come up almost immediately and he has to repress a groan. As it is, he mutters ”Over-eager fuck” with a small smile.

RIOT: oh thank god you’re alive! RIOT: it’s popcorn, why? Blasty: that’s what I thought. Stare up at it a lot? RIOT: you’re being perverted, aren’t you? Blasty: always

He lays the phone down beside him and stares once more into the ceiling. Last night was a blur. He could recall bits and pieces, and a bit more now that he knew what some of those sensations and colors were, but for the most part after Midoriya showing up he didn’t remember much. From what he gathered from the group conversation he didn’t get blackout until after he and Midoriya fought? Which he certainly didn’t remember fighting. Was it a fist fight? A quick check of his knuckles and prodding his mouth with his fuzzy, disgustingly dry tongue answers that question; not a fist fight. So back to verbal sparring between them? That seemed more plausible.

The throb in his head makes itself known with an especially violent pang and he winces. Fuck, what the hell did he do last night? How much did he drink and why had the idiot-brigade let him?! The more frustrated he gets with the situation the more his headaches. The ache just adds fuel to his frustration and he finds himself gritting his teeth and internally cussing out the squad already.

"Good for nothing fucking assholes. They should have stopped me. They know how bad hangover is.” In a quick flash of unchecked anger, he chucks his phone across the bedroom and instantly regrets it. He's sitting up quickly to trace its path and make sure it’s intact but curses his decision when the urge to vomit nearly overwhelms him and sends him sprawling back onto the mattress to stare once more at the ceiling.

He lets out a rare for him, pained sob and throws an arm over his eyes to block out more light. “Whatever I did last night, I feel like karma’s kind of going overboard with revenge.” The empty apartment doesn’t answer and he sighs. “Bitch.”

BZZZZZTTTTT BZZZZZTTTTT BZZZZZTTTTT

“Motherfucker. Stop. I’m coming.”

Slowly he rolls over until he can claw himself off the bed and onto shaky feet. The room immediately tilts and he plunks down on his butt hard enough to snap his teeth together. "Fucking dammit. What the hell did I drink last night?"

It takes several minutes before the room settles enough for him to attempt standing again. Two steps are all he gets before he falls to his knees and ends up crawling the rest of the way to his phone. The screen looks intact and when he taps the screen it all seems to be working. Internally he thanks karma for not going as far as to break his phone.

The phone goes off once more in his hand and he almost drops it at seeing the name pop up on the screen;

DEKU.

Why the fuck was Deku messaging him?

With shaky fingers, he opens the message and this time does drop his phone. The words staring back don't change and sent a jolt of panic up his spine.

Deku wants to meet him. Deku wants to talk. Deku was apologizing.

If Deku was apologizing then Bakugou probably said something really fucked up. Fuck, if only he could remember what the hell had happened that would make Deku apologize.

With a resigned sigh, he flops stomach down on the floor and stares down his nose at his phone screen. The words weren't changing, they were still mocking him and giving him anxiety-butterflies. Why did Deku need to talk to him? Surely he knew Bakugou had a hangover.

”Uggghhh. Why does this morning suck balls?”

Only one way to find out what the fuck happened and that was to read his other messages and maybe ask someone. Probably Ashido, that gossipy bitch knew everything.

He snatches the phone back up and rolls over once more, managing to get himself into a cross-legged sitting position that wouldn’t topple his unsteady ass backward. There’s one missed message from Ashido as well when he checks.

AlienQueen: did you hurt that precious broccoli?! I’ll end you! Oh- and I hope you’re not dead, you were trashed

The message has one side of his mouth quirking up into a small smile. Good to see the ‘broccoli’ nickname had stuck and the group was using it. He probably should reply soon though or Ashido would insist Kirishima take her to him for proof of life.

Blasty: not dead, much to the general populace’s displeasure I’m sure

He chooses to ignore the part about hurting Midoriya because fuck if he knows what the hell happened. There was no way to answer that without lying. For all he knew the nerd was in a hospital. He winces a little at that thought and shakes it off. No, Shitty Hair would have told him if he’d done something that bad.

The response from Ashido jolts him from his dead-eyed stare and he jerks, fingers clenching around the plastic in his hand. Fuck, he was spacing out now.

AlienQueen: we’re glad you’re not dead, idiot. otherwise I would have had to summon your back from the grave to hand you an ass-whoopin Blasty: first off, you don’t have that kind of power. second, why the fuck? AlienQueen: first off, fuck you and I bet Tokoyami could so I’d ask him. second, did you get blackout drunk? Blasty: judging by the size of my enormous ass hangover, I’m gonna say yes? AlienQueen: why was that a question? Blasty: shutup Pinky and answer the question AlienQueen: I will, but first I wanna tell the others that you actually admitted to being hungover Blasty: fuck off, hair for brains already knows AlienQueen: well, that’s no fun AlienQueen: but fine AlienQueen: I’m sure you gathered you and Izuku got in a fight...again Blasty: yepppp AlienQueen: you came back in pissed off and went straight to drinking Blasty: I gathered that from the other messages AlienQueen: yeah well what you probably didn’t gather is you started rambling to Kirishima about shitty love confessions Blasty: stop right there I’m fucking calling you

Bakugou hauls himself off the floor and towards his bed once more, head barely landing on the pillows when he lays back down. He’s already calling Ashido by the time he rolls into his back again and gets comfortable enough where he doesn’t feel like vomiting. At this angle the sun is barely in his face and he’ll take it.

She picks up after the third ring with an overly chipper and probably purposely loud, “Hey Blasty Boy!”

He winces and yanks the phone from his ear but her shriek is still piercing. He cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear and examines his ceiling as he talks. A couple corners are looking dustier than he’d like, probably needed to get to them and clean soon.

“Pick up where you left off. And turn your volume down you shrieking siren.”

Ashido only giggles at his gruff tone and he growls a warning. “I was only teasing. You sound like shit, you really must be hungover.” From her end of the line, Bakugou hears cabinets closing and metal jangling around. She must be making food. He suppresses a groan as the thought of cooking food sends a new wave of nausea through him. “Anyways-,” another cabinet closes and he hears her softly curse, “-anyways, yeah. You were bitching to Kirishima about shitty love confessions and how it wasn’t right. Kirishima looked really upset about it but you kissed him on the cheek and he peeked back up. He really has it bad for you still, and I don’t see how.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes. She always got distracted with off-topic details. “Whose shitty love confession was I supposedly bitching about to Shark-face?”

“Apparently Midoriya’s?” Bakugou feels his heart stop and he wants to puke again for entirely non-hangover related reasons, and the feeling gets worse at Ashido’s next words. “Yeah, I guess you and Midoriya got in a verbal sparring match about him wanting to take you home and he finally came out and said he was in love with you. And like a fucking psychopath you rejected him and told him to leave you alone.” She heaves the most out-upon sigh he’s ever heard from the girl. “You’ve got a real fucking drinking problem, Katsuki. Once in awhile for fun isn’t bad but Eijirou says you’ve been doing it at home alone and you schedule around it. That sounds awful,” her voice goes soft towards the end and he feels his stomach twist again.

Was he really that bad that Kirishima was trying to enlist help from the rest of their friends? He swallows his pride and manages to breathe out his question, “Who else has he talked to about this?”

“Everyone. Hell, I think he even talked to All Might.” Bakugou’s curse cuts her off and she sighs again. “All Might said it was your problem to work through but he’d help if needed. Eijirou’s worries about you. We all are.”

“Well stop, I didn’t ask you to be worried.” Damn his pride.

“That’s not how friendship works, Bakugou. You know that.”

Her words jog something in his mind and he shakes it off. “If I promise to cut back will you guys quit worrying like nannies?”

“Only if you promise to also talk to Midoriya. He was pretty worried this morning when I talked to him. He said he was going to contact you.”

That explained the message. “Yeah, the fucking nerd sent me a message” he admits.

“So talk to him, and we’ll help you get the drinking under control. You know we can come over and hang out if work is stressing you out.” She sounds so sincere that he feels guilty.

He laughs quietly into the phone and he can hear Ashido’s answering giggle. “Having you guys here would stress me more.”

He can almost hear the smile in her words. “Just think about it, ‘kay Blasty? You know we love you.”

“Yeah yeah, now fuck off so I can go puke and shower and-“ he grimaces and pushes his bangs off his face- “call the nerd back so we can talk.”

“Tell him how you feel this time?”

“I said fuck off, PinkyPie.”

Her answering laugh is loud and she blows him a kiss through the phone before she hangs up.

Well fuck, now he’d have to follow through or she’d show up at his place with Kirishima and he didn’t want that.

The phone gets deposited back on the nightstand and the music starts back up.

“Volume up,” he growls to the room as he rolls out of bed and heads towards the attached bathroom. The shower was calling his name, and maybe he could take that time to think shit through. Like what the fuck was he going to tell Deku? And why the fuck did Deku want to talk to him? And also why the hell was the nerd apologizing if Bakugou was the one who was a dick last night?

“AHHHHHHHH!”

He yells into the emptiness of his bathroom and slams the shower door open to blast the water to nearly full heat. Knowing it would take a little bit to get as hot as he wanted he stomps back to the phone and snatches it up. He needed to text Deku now before he chickened out or conveniently forgot that he needed to message him.

The messages from the other man are still in his inbox where he left them, mocking him and making his insides squirm. Okay, fuck, he could do this.

Blasty: I need to take a shower and maybe vomit first, in no particular order Blasty: no clue why you want to apologize though, so maybe forget that part and we can talk Blasty: or not, whatever, because I have no clue what you want with me

There’s a few minutes of silence where all Bakugou hears is his music and the pounding of the water hitting the shower floor. Cathartic, he thinks with a small laugh.

Finally his phone vibrates again.

DEKU: oh! I’m sorry that I interrupted your shower DEKU: you can let me know when you’re done and I’ll come over? Blasty: you can just head over now, I’ll be quick DEKU: I don’t want to rush you, it’s fine DEKU: I’ll grab us coffee on the way DEKU: same as usual right? Blasty: yeah Blasty: just head over now, I don’t have to vomit anymore Blasty: I’ll be quick Blasty: & then we can get whatever you need to talk about over with DEKU: ...okay then. See you soon

Bakugou puts the phone back down and strips off his clothes on his way to the bathroom. Shirt, shorts, and boxers fall into a heap and finally he’s under the warm spray. It’s like a mini massage on his back and he can’t help the small moan that escapes his lips.

“Fuucckkkkk.”

He slides his palms against the cool tile wall and hangs his head. He can still feel a throbbing behind his eyes but it’s less now, the urge to vomit at every movement is gone at least. Standing slowly he leans back to dunk his head into the warm spray and groans again. Leaning backwards; not a good idea.

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck.” He repeats the mantra over and over as he backs against the wall he’d been leaning on and slides down to sit and put his head between his knees.

So maybe he wasn’t as good as he thought he was. He probably needed to take it easy for a little longer.

Three songs pass before he stands back up on shaky legs and finishes his shower as quick and efficiently as he can; not the best wash job on his hair or body but at least he didn’t smell like alcohol anymore. The thought of brushing his teeth is mildly sickening but he bears through it, towel draped around his waist as he hugs his sink in case he needs to get sick and ruin his clean teeth. Fuck mouthwash, he’ll deal without that for one day.

“Fuck, never again,” he swears as he stumbles back into the bedroom and starts digging through drawers for clothes.

One pair of boxers and pants later he hears a knock on the door. Deku. Little fuck probably ran over here with his quirk, probably forgot the coffee too.

Bakugou steps into his clothes and grabs a random shirt on his way to the door, another knock aggravating his slowly decaying headache. “I’m fucking coming, quit with the damn noise nerd!”

A squeak on the other side of the door makes him smirk and he tosses his shirt over his shoulder as he opens the door. The smirk turns positively feral when he catches Deku’s eyes lingering a little too long on his exposed torso. “See something you like, Izuku?”

The nerd’s cheeks go bright red and he shoves past Bakugou in a rush to get into the apartment and away from the blonde male at the door. “Put some clothes on, Kacchan! I have your coffee and I got you that cream cheese pastry you like,” he squeaks as he rushes to the kitchen.

Bakugou chuckles and closes the door before turning towards the kitchen and tugging his shirt on. “Yer good for something, s’good to know.” The pastry is heavenly in his mouth and the coffee warms his fingertips.

Nourishment taken care of he plops down onto his couch and nods to the spot next to him. “Sit, jackass. Let’s get this over with.”

Deku nods sheepishly and grabs up his own coffee shop items then sits on the couch beside Bakugou. The space between them has never felt so tense and both men can feel it.

Bakugou breaks the silence first. “What did you need to apologize for?”

Deku’s face goes so red Bakugou’s sure he could use him as a stoplight. It’s a sight to behold. The freckles dotting his face are like little dark constellations. “W-well, I figured we should talk about last night and-“

“Spit it out, nerd. I’m still hungover and don’t wanna deal with your mumbling.”

He can see Deku’s brain short-circuit and knows he’s in for a treat now; Deku tended to get dumb when he was called out. “IWANTTOAPOLOGIZEFORSAYINGILOVEYOU.”

Hearing it from Ashido earlier did not even begin to prepare Bakugou for this. Hell he’d even kind of forgot about it already. His own brain short circuits in a never ending cycle of vicious karma this morning and his mouth pops open.

“Oh.” Then, “No.”

[musicempath]

ZOEY CLARKE LOVES MAX RICHMAN: a masterpost

As the finale draws nearer day by day, I decided now was the perfect time to do an idea I’ve had kicking around in my head for a while: an in depth look at every moment, subtext or text, that shows Zoey Clarke is in love with Max Richman. I’ll be going episode by episode documenting every lingering look, every moment of jealousy, every line of dialogue that shows that Zoey’s feelings for her adorable best friend go beyond being simply platonic. Because they do, and I can.

Onwards and upwards for some rambling!

1x01

Her soft smile at Max when he has his pure of heart, dumb of ass moment, asking if 50/20 is low for a blood pressure reading. Zoey loves one (1) adorable idiot.

Right before Max starts singing I Think I Love You, there’s a little smile and squint she has as Max struggles to put what’s going on in his head into words. Nothing special. Just a little moment of fondness worth noting.

During I Think I Love You, as shocked and a little bit terrified of Max’s sudden confession as she is, you can see her soften up when she gives him her hands to spin her around in the chair. Out of the blue confessions of undying love are scary, but they’re made slightly less scary when you’re also. Y’know. In love with that person too.

1x02

Sucker! This is gonna have a lot of different points, but to start out with there’s the fact that she can’t hold back her smile when Max sings the opening line to her. Even as she’s trying to stop the heart song from stealing her big, introductory speech thunder, she can’t stop smiling.

And then there’s the thirst. By the end of his heart song, Zoey is quite literally fanning herself with her notecards. She may not have admitted it at this point, but she’s absolutely attracted to Max on some level, and watching him seductively sing Sucker to her made her confront it at least a little bit.

It’s also worth noting that once the song is over, Zoey is flustered. Extremely so. When she refers to her memo and its section How Not To Be Distracted In The Workplace, she glances at Max. At the Golden Gate Grind with Mo, Zoey even says “Max is becoming a major distraction at work.” Zoey hasn’t referred to any of her other workplace heartsongs as major distractions, though, so what makes Max different? The fact that the feelings are mutual and she isn’t ready to admit it.

Moment one of Zoey not saying she doesn’t feel the same way for Max comes at the Golden Gate Grind with Mo. It would be so easy for her to say that she just doesn’t like Max in that way. But she doesn’t. She just says that with everything going on in her life, she wants things between them to stay the same and that she doesn’t want to live in the awkwardness.

At her parents’ house! When Max brings the butterscotch pudding over from Hand-Picked. There are so many individual moments in that one scene, but especially when Max is crouched down, talking to Mitch one-on-one, you can really see just how much Zoey cares for him. There’s a lot of love as she watches her best friend with her dad.

“Is it too early to say friend for life?” no it is NOT and don’t even get me started on how much that journal entry reeks of an early crush that went nowhere back when Zoey first started out at SPRQ Point that maybe she thought faded into friendship but really just got stronger over the years and she just ignored it.

Longing and wistful look at Max and Autumn on a date at the Golden Gate Grind through the window. This was the start of Jealous Zoey™. To be further documented in later episodes.

1x03

Cute side-eye at Max when he says “Dude, Joan is crushing us,” as they’re leaving from a late night at work. Actually the whole time he’s complaining about wanting to crash and she bursts his bubble that they already have plans she’s giving massive hearteyes. Or getting a bit tight-lipped once Autumn is mentioned.

“C’mon, whiskey sour, this body has got to move!” “Oh, sorry guys, her body is very bossy, apparently.” “Okay.” Zoey’s face during this whole exchange is just so telling like you can already tell that Max and Autumn’s relationship is grating on her, and it’s NOT just because new couples are annoying either. And then the air spanks. She definitely had that jealousy nausea watching that.

“Max is in... a very handsy relationship,” and also “Not jealous. Just aware,” are also really great examples of how Max and Autumn’s relationship is getting to Zoey. However much she’s insisting she’s not bothered, even Mo can tell that it’s killing Zoey to see Max with someone else. Even if she’s also totally hung up on Simon at the same time.

1x04

"You can take the fifth and stop telling me about it!” More Jealous Zoey™. You can tell by Max’s reaction to this that it’s definitely not how Zoey would typically react.

Honestly, I know Zoey’s trying so hard to give off this I’m so supportive! air while talking with Max about his plans for a couples trip in Napa with Autumn, but you can really tell that she’s gritting her teeth through it the whole time. “You could stand to tone it down a little bit,” more like “Please stop feeling so strongly about Autumn instead of me it makes me wanna barf.”

Zoey’s little headshake when Max says he got to second base at several bar mitzvahs. He’s an idiot, but he’s her idiot. It has those vibes.

1x05

Have I said we’ve reached peak Jealous Zoey™ yet? Because if I have, I was lying. This is where we start to find out that there’s trouble in paradise for Max and Autumn post!Napa, and Zoey? She is living. She’s grinning the whole time Max complains about Autumn and her face when Autumn goes in for a very unreciprocated smooch from Max is just. So damn pleased with herself. Basically, Max is miserable with Autumn, Zoey can see it, and she could NOT be happier about it.

Also let’s talk about how completely at ease she is with Max that she lets him see her with a sheet mask on for a minute. It’s such like... a married couple moment and I adore it.

1x06

Vindication for Jealous Zoey™ as she gets the deets on Max and Autumn’s breakup. Smiling at Max being an absolute dork insisting that he nailed it and would at least get a nomination if awards were given out for Best Breakup. Again, he’s a dumbass, but he’s her dumbass. 

“And I’m...staring at your nipples!” AKA the moment that collectively made all of us lose our shit because of shirtless Skylar Astin. This entire scene is pretty much the epitome of banging a book titled Zoey Clarke Is Attracted To Max Richman against our heads. She can’t stop staring at his chest. We know it. Max knows it. He even jokes about it. This is pretty much the level of flustered during the Sucker scene dialed up to an 11. When Zoey leaves Mo’s apartment we even see her throw one last look at shirtless Max for the road.

I’m! Gonna! Be! But part one because the slower reprise is a whole different ballgame. This is Zoey at her weakest moment, I think, overwhelmed with everything that happened at the engagement party and crying because she just got a call about her dad falling and being rushed to the hospital, and Max doesn’t even hesitate to jump in and help Zoey. And this is the first time we don’t see any resistance from Zoey whatsoever about hearing a love song from Max. Even though she’s crying, she’s also constantly shooting Max these loving little looks as he’s singing and trying to lead her through the crowds on the streets and get her to her dad.

Which of course leads into the scooter scene where Max literally threatens to throw down with a stranger if he doesn’t give up the scooter. And then proceeds to ride the scooter with Zoey since she doesn’t feel comfortable riding it by herself. Even though she’s an absolute mess when she gets on, you see her visibly calm the longer she rides the scooter with Max. Max is her rock and he makes her feel safe.

The hug! At “I’m here if you need me. Always.”! When Zoey pulls away she looks down at Max’s lips and then back up into his eyes and you cannot tell me that she didn’t fully expect and even want Max to go in for the kiss. The disappointment when he leaves without kissing her is so palpable on her face.

I’m! Gonna! Be! Part two! The first moment that it actually hit Zoey like a freight train that she might like Max in a romantic styles kinda way. This is probably the most romantic song Max has heart sung to her at this point, and instead of being confused and a little terrified or annoyed and very flustered, she’s smitten. The way we see Zoey look at Max in this moment is very akin to how she’s looked at her family, particularly her dad or her dad and mom at times, and if that doesn’t tell you the absolute depth of love she’s feeling for him at that moment I don’t know what will. Zoey could literally have run out onto that street corner to plant a big ol’ smooch on Max because of his little reprise, and it would’ve been wholly believable based on her reaction to him singing.

1x07

There’s a definite Moment™ between Zoey and Max as the credits are rolling and she’s teasing him about crying at the ending that gets interrupted when Mo flicks on the light. This is our first glimpse at what Zoey and Max’s friendship dynamic was like before her powers revealed his feelings for her since the pilot, and the tension between them has definitely ramped up even MORE since that moment Max sang to her from the street corner.

“I need more Max in my life,” honestly this plus the way she looked at him as she touched his shoulder just made me scream because this is classic flirting. I mean this is textbook flirting. Flirting 101 would cover this on the very first day. And even Mo notices it and points it out.

“After I got the power... You sang to me. Love songs. Lots of love songs.” “I did?” “Yeah.” There’s so much that could be said about Zoey’s body language in this scene, but the little smiles she gets as she says “Lots of love songs,” and then “Yeah,” probably are the most telling. We’ve seen Zoey show a wide array of emotions to Max’s heart songs in the moment, but to smile about them in hindsight is a huge sign that she thinks of them fondly.

Zoey’s conversation with Max on the balcony. Just the entire thing. Again, it would be so easy for Zoey to say that she just doesn’t feel the same way about Max. But she doesn’t. Her answer for Max isn’t that she isn’t interested, it’s that she doesn’t know how she feels. And that she hasn’t let herself figure out how she feels out of fear of losing him. And though Zoey says she hasn’t considered going down a romantic road with Max, this conversation makes it pretty clear that she’s at the very least thought about it in passing and isn’t against the idea of them being more than friends. She’s just scared of what happens if Max becomes the latest casualty in a series of disastrous relationships. “It is not a rejection.” (I mean it kind of is but not in the sense that’s easiest to handle) “It’s all coming from a place of love.” 

1x08

Zoey’s in her own little world in that scene in the elevator with Max walking into work, not really looking at Max much besides quick little glances for his reaction, but once he starts talking the hearteyes are turned up to an 11. 

Pressure! The entire scene after Zoey finishes making a fool of herself in front of the big boss with Zoey giving meaningful looks to Max and talking about the Chirp but also absolutely talking about Max at the same time. “It’s there to help you and back you up in any situation,” and yes by it she does mean Max and that look in her eyes is absolutely mortification mixed with love.

I’m Yours as a scene and song also have to get mentioned. Not to break down every little piece of body language on Zoey’s end (because that in itself would take up a whole meta) but to point out the fact that the music starts well before Zoey actually starts singing. She knows the song is coming on. She can feel it. But she doesn’t fight it. It’s the ONLY song she doesn’t fight besides Crazy which took her by surprise and How Do I Live which was for her dad. Also, anyone who insists that this song is purely platonic is deluding themselves. This song being meant in a romantic way is obvious both from the lyrics and the choreography.

Which of course Zoey tries to deny immediately afterwards in the most transparent and obvious way. The fact that Max picks up on this is less a testament of him being pushy and more that he’s been friends with Zoey for five years and knows what a Zoey who is bullshitting looks like. That was bullshitting at its finest worst. 

The confrontation with Max after her song to Simon. “I’m not sure I knew I had those feelings until I sang them,” is a pretty accurate (and also inaccurate) way to describe Zoey’s complicated relationship with her feelings for Max. They’ve been there. There’s been so many clues along the way that they’ve been there. But Zoey has very pointedly ignored them until she couldn’t anymore, and you can see in her face as Max confronts her with his own interpretation of the situation that she knows he’s right about a few things, however much as she doesn’t want to admit it.

When she opens up to Max. This is probably the first time we’ve seen Zoey be this honest with Max about her dad’s condition and how it’s affecting her, and it produced a scene that’s so sweet even after their mess of a confrontation. The effect that Max has on a thoroughly dejected Zoey is incredible, especially as he jokes about hating her “just a little” and makes her smile.

1x09

She holds back when she’s telling Max what the I’m Yours Zoey would say to him about the promotion, but the way she looks at him is full of love but just... tentative about it. Hesitant. Like she isn’t ready for the full emotions dump but there is absolutely a full emotions dump waiting in the wings for when she is ready.

1x10

I could say something about the fact that the reason she “forgot” about it being the day that Max moves to the six floor is because she’s been avoiding it, but let’s instead talk about the rest of that conversation because there’s definitely a lingering sort of longing that hangs in the air before Zoey brushes it off with the “it’s only two floors we’re being ridiculous” attitude. She’s also giving him massive sad hearteyes as he walks away and Here I Go Again starts to play.

“Max is probably miserable on the sixth floor” not really a Moment™ per se but it comes into play later when Zoey takes it very personally that Max is happier on the sixth floor than he ever was on the fourth floor. Troubles with Max are not the source of her anger this episode, but this is definitely a moment of petty jealousy that adds to her grief anger.

Zoey after The Boy Is Mine, when Max is describing his reasoning for staying on the sixth floor and keeping the code there. Obviously, there’s a personal element to his reasoning in saying that nobody wanted him there and nobody fought to keep him re: Zoey, but you can absolutely see how personally she takes it that he’s upset with her. And she also assumes that it’s because of her romantic “rejection” and not the fact that, as he said, the only time they wanted him back was because they needed something from him. Not because they actually WANTED him back. The assumption is telling.

“I’m sorry to break it to you but your lumbar support is actually 4th floor property,” this line could be played off as playful, but it isn’t. It’s bitter. And biting. Jealous Zoey™ has risen from the dead and is back in a big way, conveniently fueled to bigger heights by her grief related anger. The rest of this scene is just filled with tension in a way that her other outbursts (barring the one with Simon who she also has feelings for) aren’t. Also, when she turns around as Max stomps back toward her post “You’re calling me selfish?” she’s clearly mad horny.

1x11

Comes into work the next day. Tries to talk to Max like she didn’t totally just tell him that he didn’t deserve the promotion and that he basically sucks. Is very visibly bothered when he proceeds to ignore her because she hasn’t even tried to apologize to him. Then proceeds to take Leif’s recruitment as a personal affront because in true Zoey fashion, she’s sometimes definitely more than a little self-absorbed. Also everything Max does with regards to the 6th floor is about her because she’s Jealous Zoey™ now.

Cue the bar scene. Zoey is only slightly less awkward than poor Leif is at the karaoke bar with Max. We then see more bitterness from Jealous Zoey™ as she “warns” Max that Leif is ultimately going to betray him and stab him in the back. Just because she ultimately was correct doesn’t mean she deserves a pat on the back for it. 

Bye Bye Bye and all of Zoey’s progressive reactions to it. From confusion mixed with a little bit of hurt to offended and internally screaming to full blown HORROR. In reality, all Max is doing is ignoring her, but in Zoality, he’s ready to be completely done with her. Full stop. And Zoey hates it and is not prepared for that at all.

The longing and wistful look she gives to Max’s empty desk after her mom’s text. She misses him.

Pining Zoey™ during Get Together. It’s the looks she gave to Max’s empty desk turned up to an 11 now that she’s staring across at Max who, like her, isn’t joining in with the big group song between the 4th and 6th floors.

“And if I had to die tomorrow, I couldn’t stomach being this far apart from you.” Honestly everything about this scene is peak Pining Zoey™ hanging up the jealousy and admitting that she both wants and needs Max in her life. And! “I’m not saying I expect us to go back to the way things were, but maybe with time...” “Somehow we get back to...” “Whatever we are?” First of all that look that she’s giving him second of all she could’ve said friends. I repeat. ZOEY COULD HAVE SAID FRIENDS. Zoey has a habit of choosing her words around Max very carefully, particularly when it comes to the state of their relationship. It’s extremely significant that she didn’t just say friends. Not to mention she’s also showing a lot of growth saying that she doesn’t expect them to go bak to the way things were compared to previous times where she insisted on returning to the status quo from before feelings were out in the open. Zoey, after all that pining and jealousy, is ready for some kind of step forward in that moment.

[ignis-scientia-estrogen-brigade]

Zines, Dawn of the Future Blitz, & Future ISEB Updates

One day I’ll have an update for my followers that’ll involve, you know, actual content. But in the famous words of Aragorn, “It is not this day.” ಥ‿ಥ I do, however, have a few tidbits of info I’ve accumulated over the past couple months that I’m overdue to share, so here are the deets:

~Zines~

Having grown frustrated with myself for learning about many awesome FFXV fanzines too late in the process to participate in, I vowed that 2019 would be the year I would finally apply for one. @cosmogonyzine was the first one brought to my attention, for which I promptly submitted my application; not long after, @everatyoursidezine showed up on my radar and—in an effort to increase my chances of landing any zine gig—I applied for that one too; I had barely hit the send button for my Ever At Your Side application before the mother of all Ignis zines, @sagefirezine, was announced—which, obviously, was a calling I simply could not ignore.

Hoping to get into at least one of the aforementioned zines, my applications ended up being accepting into all of them, which might sound like the world’s most thinly-veiled humblebrag except for the fact that the final due dates for each zine are all within two weeks of each other and I just spent a good chunk of my available drawing time eschewing responsibility and not working on anything while I was off on my little jaunt through Japan. But I’m back now, and despite having bit off a bit more than I can comfortably chew, I’ve been working diligently on delivering some exciting concepts for each zine. Here’s a little rundown of each one:

Cosmogony: Dawn of a New Age

Who: 12 artists & 12 writers

What: A zine focusing on the different eras of Eos, beginning with the Fall of Solheim and continuing through the Dawn of a New Age

When: Preorders open in June

Why: Without spilling any details, I’d like to thank the mods for accommodating my request and letting me draw what I draw best! :3

Ever At Your Side: A FFXV Friendship Fanzine

Who: 25 artists & 10 writers

What: A zine focusing on the theme of friendship in Final Fantasy XV

When: Preorders open in June

Why: This zine really spoke to me because of its appeal to shippers and non-shippers alike. Not only will I be contributing a full-sized piece to this zine, but I’ve volunteered to create a sticker sheet for it as well!

Sagefire: An Ignis Scientia Fanzine

Who: 25 artists, 5 writers, 5 cosplayers & 5 merchandise artists

What: A tribute zine dedicated solely to everyone’s favorite strategist

When: Preorders are currently open!

Why: ಠ_ಠ

~Dawn of the Future Blitz~

As if my April calendar wasn’t already scheduled down to the minute, I was tapped by @landscape-gonna​ to create an illustration for a fan blitz she is organizing; the blitz is planned for the same day the Dawn of the Future novel is due for release in Japan (April 25th), and participants include artists, modders, and cosplayers from around the globe. I can’t say more than that at the moment, but I suspect it will coincide with the big push from fans worldwide to send messages of thanks and gratitude to FFXV’s developers—you have until April 20th to fill out this form if you want to send you own message of thanks!

~Future ISEB Updates~

This is the part of my post where I try to predict what the future of this blog holds, which admittedly sounds a little despairing but I assure is not really that ominous—mostly I just want to get a feel for what you guys would like to see from me once I’ve wrapped up the last of my zine pieces in May.

It’s been quite a while since I’ve added any new merchandise to my store, so my first thought was a new set of acrylic charms. Enamel pins have also been on my mind for a while now, and I’ve gotten permission from at least one of the zines I’m in to sell prints of my own piece at a later date. I’m certainly open to other merch ideas (I’m not sure if the internet needs yet another Ignis daki, but if enough people clamored for one, I wouldn’t rule it out); I’m also considering doing a small run of my older Ignis charms, so feel free to sound off in the comments if that’s something you’d be interested in.

Other than that, you can still count on me for future Ignis sketches/drawings/content! ٩( ᐛ )و @dizzymoogle​ actually posed an interesting question on Twitter recently that has inspired me to possibly take up writing fanfiction again. Just as soon as I finish these zine pieces ;_;

Twitter || ISEB Store

[mymostimaginaryfriend]

QOTS 4x01 liveblog

It is SO GREAT to see everyone’s smiling faces. Good news: everyone is still extremely hot.

Teresa with another genius distribution/smuggling plan: liquid cocaine in cacti.

First James mention is Pote saying he can’t find him and that “James is a ghost” which is interesting b/c a “ghost detainee” is a person held in a CIA detention center whose identity has been kept anonymous/hidden. So hmmm....

Boaz, Boaz, Boaz listen to your cousin, bro.  I’m glad Teresa doesn’t trust him but yeah, that’s gonna get messy.  Sidenote: I’m loving a more balanced between rogue and reason Javier. 

Okay, Gator Bait list already has some strong contenders but can we all agree to move racist liquor license extortion guy to the top of the list? 

Since we got Pote’s cheignet recipe, this is me putting in a request for Birdie’s “Teresita” cocktail deets too.

El Gordo is interesting, says he hates doing business with cartels and prefers money to murder but....that’s not really the vibe I was getting from Mr. Costco membership quantities of plastic sheeting.

Marcel--let me love you and your fabulous suits. (Promo is telling me my love will be fleeting lol but I’m gonna try to make it last.)

I about cried when Pote saw his new kitchen.  So sweet.  Also: “Everyone I loved is gone except for you.” Ouuuuuuch. OUCH. OUCH.

Eddie...is her piano instructor? Also, okay who watched La La Land in the writer’s room. White boy jazz pianists pffft.  Cute smile though and EVEN CUTER smile on Teresa.  Think it’s interesting that they made it clear this all is happening before a deep dark secrets exchange between them.

And Chicho...you were the random henchman I decided to root for survival this season but that was before you let Teresa get hauled off by the cops in less than 10 seconds of screen time! You’re on thin ice mister.

Speaking of cops...that’s was an interesting Queenpin scene huh.

And aw, Tony! Wracking my brain thinking of who would be trying to kill him...not many characters know of his existence right? Maybe it’s just a end of episode red herring.  

And finally, please Teresa. Take down the patriarchy! Especially the old money old white guy judge variety please.  Like Castel said, I’m betting on you girl.

[sarahbatistapereira]

So days afterward, I am still thinking about Isle of Dogs, mainly about how I misspoke before. I had conflicting thoughts about how Japan is portrayed and used in Isle of Dogs, and will probably continue to do so. But I had no conflicting thoughts on the gender politics of Isle of Dogs. 

I had conflicting thoughts about how much I really loved watching Isle of Dogs--and how much I did not love feeling like every character was default male, or was otherwise there to support a male. 

One of my favorite Hollywood stories is about a male friend of mine, who I took to a pitch event when he was working for my old company so he could see what it was like and help weigh in. Pitch events, to capture it very quickly, are like sitting on a conveyor belt as people shout at you. You can’t do anything really. There are perks of varying quality, and there are networking opportunities if you’re one of those crafty people who are good at the wording with the mouthpart. (I am more of a worder with the fingers and a keyboard parts, so alas, not for me.) And they can be fun if the writers that come are good. But mostly, you’re stuck for three hours or so while writer after writer comes in and quickly sums up their movie or TV show. You ask some questions, they answer them. You offer some advice, they hopefully take it. And then you either snag their deets or you politely smile and nod. 

At this event, I had the name tag. My name was on their schedule sheet. My name was on the little card on top of the table, along with the company. My name, as you know, is pretty gender conforming. And while the average white person looking at me doesn’t usually know where to place me, I don’t think it’s that hard to guess a Batista-Pereira looks like a me and not like a 5′10 blonde man.

And yet, out of the 20 or so people who come across our table, if I say 15 of them were men then I can also say probably about 15 of them look at my male friend first. Greet him first. Shake his hand first, and proceed to talk with him first in mind, as they look who they assume is the person in charge here straight in the eye.

But that’s not where the story ends.

I’d done these pitch events before, but my friend had not--except, I think, on the other side of the table. After maybe the third person, I could see he was starting to have Thoughts deep in the back of his brain. After the fifth, I could see that those Thoughts were starting to click together like puzzle pieces, and that whatever image he was getting there, it was not to his liking.

With the sixth, when it came time for questions, my male friend spoke first. And the exact wording I can’t remember, but the gist is easy.

“So, you’ve got a really large cast. Do you have any female characters?”

The writer paused a moment, and answered--and with this, I do remember the exact wording.

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I’ve got this really great character--really great. She’s the love interest, and--”

And I’ll cut it off there because privacy and irrelevancy and all that jazz, but. The reason why I remember it? The reason I can still even hear it in my head?

That’s because basically every single guy from there on out that my male friend asked this question of, that was pretty much their answer.

That’s not where the story ends--which is great, because this is the part that makes it one of my favorite stories. Because this is the part, where we were finally heading out afterward, and I was sorting through the goodies we got in our gift bag for being good conveyor belt sitters. I led him to my little black Yaris in a valet queue of Priuses, and as we sank into the car, I can still picture exactly the moment he turned to me and said, “You know, when I get home, I think I’m going to take a look at my scripts.”

I asked him why. And this I also remember the wording of, though I’ll simplify it here. It was a long conversation, from the event back to West Hollywood, and mainly I just remember because it was exactly the thing I always hoped someone as white and male and blonde as him would say.

The gist is easy though.

“I just never realized you could literally write a whole script and not be a dick about it, but still not include a woman in a real way even once.”

I really don’t think, a lot of the time, people are trying to be dicks about how they write or don’t write women in their scripts. It’s easy to forget I think in the just impatience, and sometimes anger, we feel when it happens. I certainly don’t think Isle of Dogs is trying to be a dick about it. It’s a film comprised entirely of thinly sketched character types if you’re not one of the main three, and I don’t discount that. The few women that exist are not necessarily any flimsier than the pack of dogs around Chief, or the various side story humans. 

What I do I feel though is that ultimately, a lot of people just didn’t think. I feel for a lot of writers, their rooms are full of men, their worlds are full of men, and the stories they loved, as their growing malleable brainparts soaked up information about the world, were full of men. When it comes to including a woman in a story, in a way that isn’t because they must be, as a gender-specific attachment to another male character, it just doesn’t occur to them then, after all that. And that unfortunately only creates more problems for them, as the few female characters that exist end up embodying all the weight of how Women Are Viewed in This Narrative World. 

No one, I think, wants to see diversity used as a means of ticking a box. Least of all me. But no one, I think, wants to feel like the few examples of it out there in the wild are forced to carry the weight of How The Film Views This Group.

No one, I know, wants to feel like even when we’re standing right here, the men around us aren’t considering whether it’s important that we exist in the world.

[kingtylerreigns]

Cock-Blocking

INVOLVED: Mia Parker and Tyler Carter TIME FRAME: Monday, August 5, 2019 LOCATION: University of Houston Campus, Tyler’s Penthouse; Houston, Texas SUMMARY: Tyler spots Mia and Tony, a campus-mate, from across the quad and intervenes, taking Mia back to his penthouse instead of whatever she had planned with Tony. NOTES: Never completed. Posted as is. 

Tyler sat in the quad, headphones over his ears, his head bobbing as he transferred some notes from a loose-leaf sheet that he had gotten from a classmate into his notebook. Licking his lips slowly, he reached for his water bottle and cracked it open, taking a long slow sip as his eyes surveyed the campus surrounding him.

Mia looked up to her classmate, Tony, he was always so nice to her for whatever reason and she appreciated that fact. He had asked to walk her to the cafe, and she didn’t turn him away considering they’d chose to be study buddies for an upcoming test. They could have lunch and talk about some necessary study information; it was a win win. As they walked across the brick covered ground, she giggled at him, covering her hand over her mouth cutely. “I was meaning to tell you back in class that you look really good today Mia” Tony complimented, and Mia instantly turned red as she her cheeks blushed over the boy’s words.

As Tyler eyes panned the campus they settled on Mia and Tony, one of their campus mates, walking along. His eyes grew kind of wide and he sat the bottle aside as he watched Mia giggle and blush from the distance. “That motherfucker,” Tyler said with a huff as he began stuffing items into his backpack, barely zipping it up as he jumped up from the table. Snatching his water bottle up, he made quick work across the campus. “Mia!” he said as he jogged over gazing at her with soft eyes before he looked at Tony, his jaw set. “Mia let me holla at you for a sec,” he said as he took her forearm into his hand, gently tugging her towards him as he continued to stare Tony down.

Mia continued to walk with the boy as he made one funny joke after another, she was almost to tickled to notice Tyler approaching them. When he called her name, she quieted her giggles down looking at him with a sly smirk. Looking at his body language she looked to him confused, as he grabbed her arm, she moved along with he like he asked, “yeah Ty?” she said looking to him. Tony looked to Tyler, tilting his head at the man as he grabbed Mia “aye, don’t grab the woman like that, that’s not necessary,” he told the guy using his hand to break Mia and Tyler apart.

Finally dropping his gaze from Tony, Tyler looked at Mia, his eyes softening just a tad. “What you doing?” he asked her softly, his hand still holding her arm gently. “You really talking to this clown?” he asked her gently before Tony physically used a part of his body to touch his own, he lifted a hand to Tony, holding it into his face. “Not talking to you my man,” he said easily, glancing at Tony for just a second before he was looking back to Mia. “Matter of fact, how about you run along because I actually need to steal Mia away for something real important.”

Mia continued to look at Tyler, her eyes moved to Tony at his words before she looked to Tyler again. “I am going to the cafe” she answered plainly and truthfully. “Tony and I are going to eat lunch and study,” she said. “Clown?” she asked him confused, she didn’t know why he was being so rude to the guy Tony was kind and nice all the time. As the guys shared words, she looked to Tony apologetically, “I’m sorry Tony” she offered shrugging her shoulders a bit not knowing what was going on or the issue. “It’s okay Mia” Tony said his hand moving to her shoulders he rubbed it gently “I’ll catch you around, text me the deets to the notes” he added as he looked to Tyler with a sly smirk before he walked off, licking his lips.

The cafe, eat lunch and study? Tyler eyed Mia and his jaw clenched slightly. “Don’t apologize for me,” he told her easily, looking to Tony with fire in his eyes. “He knows what’s up,” he said with a lick of his lips. As Tony rubbed Mia’s shoulder, Tyler’s chest puffed up and he bit back a comment as he looked back to Mia. “What was that?” he asked her. He would deal with Tony later.

At his slight attitude and obvious aggression, Mia tucked her notebook into her large purse and looked back up at Tyler. At Tony’s words she nodded at him before she looked to the light skin man before. “Tyler, that was so rude the way you spoke to him, don’t you have manners?” she asked quietly. “Tony is in my class; we are study buddies. He’s always nice to me and being kind. He’s a good guy. What’s the problem here?” he wondered more so to herself than anything. “What was what?” he asked him “I should be asking you that” she said quietly.

Tyler stood there listening to Mia’s whole spiel, letting her say what she needed to say about the situation before he sighed and broke the news to her. “Tony wants to fuck you,” he said getting straight to the point. “I know that nigga and his M.O. and he’s trying to check you off his list,” he told her quietly, not walking anyone else around to know what they were talking about. “You out here, giggling and blushing and shit, laughing at his corny ass makes him think that he has a chance,” he informed her with a huff.  

Mia looked to Tyler, placing her hands on her full hips as he broke the news to her. She looked away from him for moment before she dropped her head, if that was true Mia felt like an idiot. She placed her arms over her chest and said “oh” as he continued to embarrass with his words. “Makes sense” she offered to him as he looked back up sadly. “Thought he was just being a nice friend.

Tyler frowned at Mia slightly and he pulled her in for a hug, holding her to his strong chest as he gently stroked her hair. He didn’t really know what to say to her. How could she not pick up on him blatantly flirting with her. He could see it from across campus. His hand dropped to her back and he rubbed her there more as he rested his chin on top of her head.

Mia really didn’t want a hug from Tyler right now, he and Tony both made her feel stupid enough for the day. However, she allowed the man to hug her and stroke her hair as she just stood there in the middle of everyone very much sol ready to walk away.  

Tyler held Mia, frowning as she didn’t reiterate the hug. “You not going to hug me?” he asked as he pulled away from her slightly, looking down at her with a frown, his dimples creasing.

Mia looked up Tyler at his words and she sighed softly wrapping her arms around him and hugging him back as he asked her to.

Tyler gazed down at Mia as she hugged him back and he sighed as he rubbed her back a bit more. “You want to head off campus for lunch?” he asked her softly.

Mia nodded her head pouting at him “sure” she replied as her hand moved to purse strap.

Nodding slowly Tyler gently stroked her cheek as she pouted. “What did you have a taste for?” he asked her as he began walking in the opposite direction of the cafe, heading towards the lot.

Mia shrugged her shoulders gently “I don’t know” she told him in a childlike manner as she licked her lips. “It doesn’t really matter to me; I clearly will eat anything” she said gesturing her body all the while she spoke, she was looking down at her feet.

Tyler looked down at Mia as she shrugged and spoke nonchalantly. He didn’t quite like her tone. “What’s wrong?” he asked her, stopping short.  

“Nothing” Mia said to him, she couldn’t tell him that felt like shit because all men ever wanted was a little piece of her and that she was upset because maybe deep down he was the same is what she was thinking. “It’s fine” she told him “we can go wherever you want to go to eat” she told him.

Tyler gazed at her, not believing her but deciding not to push it. “Did you have any more classes for the day?” he asked curiously, thinking about maybe just going to the grocery store and picking up things to cook and just going back to his penthouse.

“No, that was my last one. You?” Mia asked looking up at him finally.

“Same,” Tyler responded quickly. “So how about we cook, we can head to the market, pick something out and use my kitchen,” he said chuckling a little, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.

Mia eyes lit up at his words “you are going to let me cook in your kitchen?” she asked happily, perking up now.

“Yeah, why not,” Tyler said with a smirk, his hand resting on her full hip now.

Mia smiled at his words, “okay, yeah” she nodded her head at him. “What are we going to cook?” she asked him.

Tyler smiled at her, nodding his head. “Uhm, whatever you have a taste for. I’m not picky,” he told her easily as he slid his hands into his pockets.

“Hm,” Mia said to herself for a moment thinking of what she wanted to cook. Perhaps she’d make her signature dish of choice: smothered pork chops, white rice, cabbage, and macaroni or maybe yams? She licked her lips thinking to herself before she asked “what’s your favorite meal? Or food?”

“Tacos,” Tyler answered quickly, his tongue rolling over his lips at the thought of some. “My mom makes the best damn tacos,” he admitted. “Been a favorite since I was a tot.”

“Tacos” Mia said “okay, come on. I can do tacos” she said confidently as she smiled to herself. If he wanted tacos, he’d get tacos and she’d make sure they were better than his mommas.

Tyler smirked, pulling Mia to him by her belt loop. “Sounds good to me.”

Tyler opened the door to his place, holding the various bags in his hands as he used his foot to keep the door open for Mia.

Mia moved through the door thanking Tyler “you know I could have grabbed some of those” she told him seriously as she looked back standing off to the side.

“No worries, I got it,” Tyler said as he juggled the handles of the bags in his hands as he moved for the kitchen, the door closing and locking behind them. Sitting the bags on the counter, he let out a small huff.

Mia nodded moving to follow Tyler in the kitchen, she grabbed everything she needed down to the very seasonings she wanted to cook with today. So, as she watched him sit down the bags, she looked to him “okay, so what do you want to do and what do you want me to do?” she asked. “We can split the work” she smiled.

Tyler smirked at Mia, licking his lips slowly. “Uh, you tell me what you need me to do,” he said scratching the back of his neck.

“Um” Mia said she sat her purse aside and moved to the sink and washed her hands thoroughly before she dried them and moved to the bags. “Well I do know I want to marinate the steak for a bit before I cook that up” she breathed as she grabbed the pack of steak and set it aside. “I guess really you could help by pulling the stuff out the bags for me” she said to him as she moved to open the pack of steak moving to the sink to wash it thoroughly.

Tyler nodded slowly as he began to pull the items from the bags, organizing them for her by category: meats, seasonings, vegetables, and other. “Okay, what next.”

Mia looked to him and asked “do you have some type of flat Pyrex pan I could use for his” she said meaning the steak. “Oh, and a cutting board. I want to slice this up and marinate it in the fridge” she breathed out.

Tyler bit his lip at her request, and he nodded slowly, moving for the cabinets as he mumbled to himself. “Pyrex… Pyrex… hmm…” he said as he opened and closed various cabinets until he found the pans. “Pyrex…” he said aloud looking up at her as he squatted in front of the cabinet that held the pans. “Is that like a brand of a pan or…?”

“A glass pan or dish” Mia said looking up at him, watching as he searched in that moment it dawned on her that he knew nothing about cooking at all.

Tyler nodded slowly as he gazed up at her and he bit his lip as he pulled out a glass pan as she asked, and he set it on the counter as he stood to his full height. “This?” he questioned softly as he gazed at her.

“Yeah” Mia said nodding as she asked him next “I need a large knife to slice the steak into strips” to him gently as she moved to grab the seasoning she wanted to use on the steak. “And the cutting board” she added again.

Tyler nodded slowly, moving for a drawer to pull out a knife for Mia. “This large enough?” he asked her before he thought about the cutting board with a nod. “Ah, yes…” he moved for another cabinet, pulling out two wooden cutting boards for Mia.

“Yeah” Mia said to him and she began to slice the steak in a thin enough cut for them to eat in the taco. As she did that, she asked Tyler “do you mind washing all the veggies off for me” she asked him. As she sliced that all up, she placed it into the pan and began to season all of the meat with various seasonings before she used her hands to rub it in deeply.

“Okay, no problem,” Tyler said as he gathered up all the vegetables and moved them to the sink, turning on the water. He allowed the water to run over them before he turned to her. “Like with soap or…?”

At his question Mia looked up at him slowly and she blinked slowly “Um” she said slowly before she sat the meat down. “Tyler, no disrespect sweetie” she started but “but get out the kitchen please….” she said with a headshake.

Tyler frowned slightly at her as he looked at her over his shoulder. “But I want to help,” he said poking out his bottom lip in a sweet pout, his eyelashes batting at her.

Mia chuckled at him “have you never watched your mother cook Tyler? Who washes food with actual soap?” she asked him “just rinse them off,” she said shaking her head again as she covered the steak and opened his fridge to put it in. “There’s nothing in here!” Mia squealed as she examined the empty fridge “what do you eat?” she asked curiously.

Tyler bit his lip gently. “Uh, not really,” he admitted to her softly, feeling a bit like he was being scolded. He held each piece of vegetable under the warm water, rinsing them off before he placed them on a napkin on the counter. As Mia opened his fridge and squealed, he said, “there’s some prepared meals in the freezer,” he said pointing to it.

Mia shook her head again “poor thing” she commented as she licked her lips. “Frozen food, wow” she said still in shock, she closed the fridge and moved to the chicken. She opened the package, preparing to clean it as well before she seasoned it to cook.

Tyler frowned even more at Mia’s words, she was kind of starting to hurt his little feelings, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Instead he was just going to suck it up. Turning his frown inward, he tucked his lips and sighed gently, his shoulders slightly slumped. “Did you need me to do anything else?” he asked her his head hung a bit.

Mia rinsed off the chicken and she looked to the man “what’s wrong?” she asked with a smirk on her face, was he just doing that to get to her or was he sad? She couldn’t tell. “You can make the black beans and rice Ty?” she offered as she moved to wash her hands after dealing with the chicken. She dried them off and said, “I am making salsa and guacamole too.”

Tyler looked to her with a small huff, “nothing,” he said in a small voice now as he nodded slowly. “Black beans and rice, got you,” he mumbled slightly as he pulled out his phone and googled how to prepare the dish that she had tasked him with. After reading over the page slowly, he sat his phone face down on the counter and moved to grab a pot from the cabinet. “Yummy,” he said her tongue rolling over his lips slowly at the thought of guacamole and salsa.

Mia squinted slightly at his words however she nodded her head instead of pressing the issue. Nodding her head at him, she moved to season the chicken to her liking sitting it aside for the moment before she moved to wash off the knife, he gave her. Once she washed off the knife, Mia grabbed the veggies that needed to be diced and she handled them, chopping them up perfectly and resting them on the chopping board. “Where are your bowls?” she asked.

Tyler sat the pot on the stove, turning the heat up before he added some oil into the pot, looking back at Mia to make sure he wasn’t messing anything up. “Uh once the oil is in the pot… what do I do next?” he asked her before he moved for a cabinet to pull out several bowls for her. “Here you go.”

“What are you using oil for?” Mia acquired as she moved to place tomato chunks in a bowl, lettuce in a bowl, Jalapeno in a bowl, she sat the lime slice aside, cilantro in a bowl, minced garlic in a bowl, green and red onion were placed in a bowl, and her avocado before she moved to wipe her hands clean.

“Uh, the black beans and rice, I need oil, right?” Tyler asked her, pointed to his phone. “I looked up how to make it. It said I needed oil…” he explained before he began to rub the back of his neck defeatedly. “Maybe I should get out of your way and just let you cook,” he said sadly, head hanging once more.

Mia looked to him, hands resting on the countertop “no we bought canned black beans, and you don’t need oil in your rice water” she educated. “Come here” she said quietly using her pointer finger to edge him along. “Why are you letting this get up under your skin?” she asked.

Tyler nodded slowly as she explained it to him, and he sighed out as he moved towards her. At her question, he looked down bashfully. “I want to help but I just feel like I’m slowing you down,” he told her softly, stroking her cheek, brushing a few braids behind her ear. “I don’t want you just like cooking for me, I want it to be a team effort…” he said shrugging slightly. Her cooking a meal for him just seemed extremely domestic.

Mia looked up at him and she nodded slowly “what if I wanted to caterer to you?” she asked him softly as she batted her lashes. She leaned up and kissed his lips lovingly, drinking him down slowly. “Help, don’t help. Doesn’t matter to me, you know. I could caterer to you or cook with you. Either way, I have the patience for both” she acknowledged.

Tyler gazed at her with soft eyes at her words. “I guess that would be okay,” he said gently, rubbing the back of his neck now. As she leaned up, he met her half-way, kissing her lips sweetly. “Okay, I’ll just watch you and try and learn,” he said gently as he moved to sit down in one of the many chairs that lined the counter, doubling it for a bar.

Mia nodded her head and smirked “okay” she said offering him a smile and Mia prepared the salsa in no time. She mashed some of the tomatoes by hand a little as she tossed in all the ingredients needed for it. It smelled good, fresh and light she was happy as she placed that in his fridge. She moved for the guac and began to prepare that tossing in all the ingredients for that as well before she set it aside. “Where are your skillets Ty?” she asked licking guac off her fingers before she moved to wash her hands. Mia chopped up the chicken in reasonable slices before she asked, “where was that oil that you were going to use?” next.

Sitting down, Tyler rested his elbows on the counter and his head in his hands as he watched Mia cook, something that she was clearly really skilled at. “Uh, the skillets are in the bottom cabinet down there,” he said pointing to where he was talking about before he said, “the oil is in that cabinet,” he said pointing to one above the counter now.

Mia nodded grabbing a skillet and placing it on top of the stove, she poured the rice into the water he’d began to boil before she cracked open a can of beans and grabbed another boiler placing them on the stove as well. She was pretty good with timing; however, she knew without a doubt the shells would come last considering she was going to fry her own. Mia added a little oil to the skillet, and she placed the cut-up chicken in there letting it cook as she added a little more seasoning here and there for good measure. “Who do you look like more? Your mom or dad?” she asked randomly.

Tyler watched Mia flutter around the kitchen effortlessly and he let out a content sigh, his heart warming at the sight of her. Maybe domestication wasn’t a bad thing. “Uh, I’m not sure honestly. I guess I’m a strong mixture of them both,” he said shrugging. “What about you?”

Mia nodded as she stirred the chicken around a bit, she stirred the beans with a different spoon and chuckled at his response. Looking to him she sat the spoon aside and said “my mom, with my father’s complexion” softly as she moved over to him and stole a kiss cutely.

Tyler listened to her and nodded slowly, closing his eyes as he tried to picture that. Mia but with a different complexion. “What like a tan-brown skin?” he asked her eyes still closed.

“Yeah you can say that” Mia told him as she backed away moving to tend to the food again.

Tyler nodded slowly, smirking as he pictured what her mother could possibly look like in his head. “Mmm,” he said thoughtfully before he opened his eyes, looking to Mia.

Mia stirred the chicken around gently before she checked on the rice and beans. “How long have your parents been together?” she asked him next.

Tyler looked at Mia at the question and he shrugged. “I don’t know, since before I was born.” Looking at her, he arched an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?” he asked her curiously.

“Just curious” Mia said to him as she lowered the temperature on the beans, and she continued to let the rice bowl. She knew for a fact it wasn’t done. She eyeballed the chicken before she moved to place the gauac in the fridge for now, wanting it to be a bit cool. She had the steak and ground beef, but the ground beef like the shell would take no time either.

Tyler nodded slowly, chuckling. “And your parents?” he asked her gently, rubbing his hand over his trimmed beard lightly as he stood from the chair and slowly rounded the counter until he was standing behind Mia hands on her hips as he rested his chin on top of her head. “How did your parents meet?” he asked her curiously. “Do you know?”

“Twenty years or more” Mia said to him easily as she transferred the chicken to another dish as she prepared to cook the steak now. “Mutual friends set them up. My parents were in their 30’s when they married, never was looking for love, it seemed to find them” she said to him honestly.

Tyler nodded slowly, his arms gently coiling around Mia’s midsection, holding her close. “So, they just kind of stumbled upon each other?” He asked gently. “That’s dope,” he told her honestly before he said. “I think my parents met in college,” he told her honestly, “at a frat party of all places if the stories I’ve been told are true,” he told her with a laugh. “They hated each other at first then I guess at some point something just clicked.”

“Yeah you can say that” Mia told him with a smirk, she nodded listening to him as she shifted began her process of cooking the steak. She wondered if she could handle cooking it and the ground beef all at one time. “That’s interesting” she chuckled lightly.

Licking his lips slowly, Tyler hummed out, his hands slowly moving to her hips gently. He gave her a light squeeze before he released her, moving for the fridge. “I guess,” he said with a chuckle and a shrug. “They annoying,” he said shaking his head as he grabbed a beer. He cracked it open on the counter, taking a sip. “Did you want a beer?” he asked her curiously.

Mia snickered at Tyler’s comment as she cooked up the steak before her. At his question she shook her head no, she never liked the taste of that stuff, “no thank you” she replied.

Nodding at Mia’s decision to not have a deer, Tyler closed the fridge and took another sip of the beer before he asked curiously. “What is a favorite memory from your childhood?” Moving back to her, he wrapped his free arm around her gently holding her to his strong chest as he held the beer in his other hand.

At his question Mia thought to herself for a while, she shrugged she didn’t know off the top of her head. “Maybe them bringing my brother home?” she chuckled to herself. “I was super excited,” she told him with a smile.

Tyler smiled softly at Mia’s response and he chuckled. “You’re such a softy,” he said poking her side gently.

“Am not” Mia said with a smirk, “I was always so lonely as a kid” she chuckled.

Tyler chuckled. “Life was great before Aria,” he smirked. “I got all the attention and the love and kisses and cuddles, then she came along and ruined it all,” he said playing dramatic. “It was the absolute worst,” he said still chuckling as he pressed a kiss to Mia’s temple before sipping more beer.

Mia looked at Tyler shaking her head before she smirked to herself, she snorted a little “you know what, you look like the type” she joked back as he kissed the side of her head. She finished this task leading into another, making sure she kept the food warm as she did.

Tyler feigned hurt as he pulled away from Mia, hand on his chest as a playful scoff escaped him. “Whatever do you mean by that?” he asked her with a small chuckle as he tucked his lips inward, his dimples creasing deeply.

Mia smirked at Tyler again with another shake of her head not responding to him initially as she continued to cook. “Sure, you don’t know already” she said sarcastically. “I just have the taco shells left” she told him letting him know dinners status.

Tyler looked down at Mia, his tongue rolling over his lips slowly. “I am sure,” he said laughing a little as he nodded at her. Moving to pull plates down from the cabinet, he sat them on the counter before he grabbed some glasses as well. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a bottle of champagne. “Champagne?” he asked her.

[bingbong21]

The Things We Fear

Summary: It's not just alien invaders that a person can be afraid of. It can also be the what-if's, the what could have beens, and everything in between.(Alternatively: Keith and James become friends with benefits in an effort to cope)

A/N: I 100% blame Keithy on the Sheithans server. This can be found on ao3 here and FFN here. 

It was supposed to be a one-time thing.

Everyone had been hurting after the failure of the Kerberos mission, but all their grief paled in comparison to Keith’s. James understood why of course; Officer Shirogane had gotten him into the Garrison, saved him from a life of jumping from one prison sentence to the next. But now that he was dead, that whole plan seemed to be in jeopardy. So like the kind, caring man that felt a sense of duty to finish what Shirogane had started and who wished the best for his fellow classmates (which had nothing to do with wanting to be top of the class fair and square), James set out to offer Keith his condolences and a shoulder to cry on. And of course like the paranoid, socially stunted bullheaded asshole he was, Keith took it as an invitation to fight.

It hadn’t been pretty. There was no elegance to their fight, just a raw brutal animalistic force that only two teenage boys on the cusp of manhood could wrought. It ended exactly like their first fight at the Garrison had, with James on his back and Keith above him with raised fists. Then Keith’s shouts turned to sobs, his punches into desperate grabs at clothing, and next thing he knew he was staring up at his ceiling naked with a passed out, equally as naked Keith next to him.

When he woke up the next morning, Keith was gone. Gone from his bed, from the Garrison, and probably from his life forever. James didn’t let the bruised pride or the smarting marks on his body interfere with his career, and soon he was top of the class with Keith as nothing more than a distance memory. He had effectively forgotten about the guy, focused on preparing for whatever would come his way.

Five years later and life decided to give him a roundhouse kick reminder that no one was allowed to forget the name Keith Kogane.

James leaned against the windowsill, staring out at the vast expanse of desert before him. He was in one of the corridors of the Garrison hospital, sitting on one of the cushioned ledges they provided. He was there because…because…honestly he had no fucking clue why he was there. Him and his squad had been cleared pretty quickly after the final battle, diagnosis nothing more than some bruises and scrapes with a prescription of rest and celebration with the rest of the universe. The Paladins of Voltron were either sleeping off four years of an intergalactic war or catching up with the people they left behind and the friends they made along the way. There was no reason for James to be here yet there he sat, looking out to the desert as if it provided answers.

The squeaking of the wheels of an IV drip pulled him from his musings. He looked over and had to fight the urge to rub his eyes. There, walking as if he hadn’t just woken up from an explosion-induced coma was the head of Voltron himself, Keith Kogane. He looked so much younger in the hospital uniform, the bandages wrapped around his head giving him a sense of vulnerability. Just like when they were younger Keith paid him no mind, sitting on the same ledge as him and staring out the window. Either he was still unaware of what an awkward silence was, or he also didn’t know how to approach the sudden tension.

“Didn’t you just wake up from a coma,” James asked; subtlety was never his strong suit when it came to Keith. “What the hell are you doing walking around?”

Keith glanced at him from the corner of his eye before looking back out the window. “Felt weird, sitting there doing nothing. Feel like I should be planning another battle strategy or be in some diplomatic meeting.”

Makes sense; even when they were young Keith felt the need to be occupied by something, otherwise he was prone to getting into trouble. “Don’t you have some aliens to catch up with though?”

Keith shrugged, “Mom and Kolivan are out doing stuff for the Blades, Shiro’s busy being the voice of a new world order, and the wolf is probably either getting spoiled rotten by Lance’s family or playing with Bae-Bae. Don’t exactly have many options left to keep me company.”

“I could keep you company.” The words are out of James’s mouth before he even thinks to process them. Keith fully turns to look at him, an eyebrow raised in question; James holds his hands up defensively. “What? I’m not a complete and utter asshole you know!”

“We fought literally every time we were in the same room as each other.”

“Not every time,” James shoots back; something about Keith makes him want to argue, even if it makes him look like a dumbass. Those thick caterpillars Keith calls eyebrows furrow together before shooting into his hairline. James feels a smug sense of satisfaction at the light blush that blooms across Keith’s cheeks. He takes it as an invitation to scoot closer to Keith, hand resting dangerously close to his.

“Everybody else is celebrating or rebuilding right now,” he murmurs, “a party of one sounds pretty lonely, don’t you think?”

“Since when have you cared about me being lonely,” Keith responds; it’s quieter, not at all reminiscent of the confident leader he saw in battle. James shrugged, fingers walking between the spaces left by Keith’s.

“Since we saved Earth from a bunch of murderous space furries,” he quips, cocky grin on his face. He settles his hand right on top of Keith’s; for such a fiery guy, he really did have cold hands. “So what do you say?”

Keith’s eyes drop to their hands before slowly making their way back to James’s face. He gives a short nod, jerking his head back towards where he came. Soon the two of them are walking back to Keith’s room, with James thinking back to that night before Keith left. All thoughts cease when the door opens and he’s pulled inside, a mouth slanted over his and the door closing behind them.

When James had left his room after pulling the thin hospital sheets up to Keith’s chin, that should have been the end of it. Just a celebratory knocking of boots together for having not died and saving the universe from tyranny.

Except it kept happening.

Whenever one of those things fell from the sky, James would find himself being shoved into a broom closet or bathroom stall. When they actually managed to catch a break for longer than two days James was either being dragged to Keith’s room or pushed back onto his mattress. Not to say that James was some pushover whore for Keith to use at his fancy; James instigated a bunch of their liaisons himself of course. It’s just…Keith’s need to fuck was a lot higher than his. Like a lot higher. To the point that James wondered if it was a Galra thing to always be in a constant state of fighting or fucking. If so, no wonder those fuckers took over the entire universe.

Apparently others took notice of Keith’s stamina.

“So are you and Kogane just fucking or what?”

James spluttered, water going all over the table. Kinkade, Leifsdottir, and Rizavi all moved their trays accordingly in scarily perfect synch. James glared at Rizavi while coughing, who had the gall to just sit there and innocently poke at her salad. He took the napkin offered by Kinkade, wiping at his mouth.

“What are you talking about?”

“After every mission you and Kogane disappear for approximately ten to fifteen minutes,” Leifsdottir stated as if it were just another piece of data, “afterwards you both appear slightly disheveled with marks that are generally associated with sex. You and Kogane also have a tendency to disappear together for large swaths of time whenever there is nothing else to do, only to come out looking the same.”

“So cut the crap and give us the deets.” Rizavi jabbed her forkful of salad at James’s face. “Y’all fucking or what?”

James heaves a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you must know, yes, we are fucking. It’s a friends with benefits sort of deal; he scratches my back, I scratch his. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Rizavi hums, leaning forward on the table, chin resting in her hands. “And how’s that going for your big fat crush on him?”

James jerked away from the table, face erupting in flames. “I…How…I do not have a big fat crush on him!”

“Seventy-five to eighty percent of your complaints about him in flight school were about things that, upon further analysis, could be considered you actually talking about how attractive he is,” again Leifsdottir chimes in, as if she were just talking about the weather instead of one of her friends’ sex life. James shot her a glare, the blush still visible high on his cheeks.

“Yeah well, the numbers mean nothing. I don’t have a crush on Kogane, and this arrangement here isn’t making me have feelings.” He grabbed his tray, pushing away from the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m gonna finish lunch in the hangar.”

He ignored whatever snarky comment came from Rizavi’s mouth as he left the mess hall, thoughts bouncing wildly around his head. There was no way in hell he had a crush on Keith Kogane. Sure he respected the guy for his battle tactics, courage, and flight skills, but so did Commander Iverson and everyone else in the base. Did that mean they all had crushes on Keith? Of course not; it meant they were people with eyes and enough brain cells to rub together to have a decent thought. And fine, maybe he thought he was pretty easy on the eyes, but again that meant nothing. He’d seen Rizavi cycle through so many freak-outs about pretty girls without meaning to seriously pursue them that it barely even phased him.

Everything relaxed as he entered the upper decks of the MFE hangar. Something about being there, close to his ship and the opportunity of freedom just instantly calmed him. He looked around, hoping that he could claim a seat to look over his personal plane, when his eyes caught another Garrison cadet uniform perched on the walkway. More specifically, Keith in a Garrison cadet uniform with that kickass wolf perched on the walkway. Perched on the walkway right above where his beloved MFE sat charging.

Motherfucker.

“Thinking of stealing my ship are you?”

The dull thud that rang out in the hangar as Keith’s skull made contact with the rails above it had James wincing in sympathy. He walked over with his tray, afraid Keith might lash out in some sort of retribution. Keith merely clutched his head, groaning in pain before cracking an eye open.

“Why the fuck do people always think I’m trying to steal their shit,” he grumbled, arms slowly falling back to his sides. One hand came to rest on Kosmo’s head; the wolf pushed his snout into his hand. James shrugged, taking a seat next to him.

“You did steal Captain Shirogane’s care before we got here.”

“That was one time!”

“There was also the time you stole someone’s pens cuz they pissed you off. Oh, and the ti-” James was cut off as Keith slapped a hand over his mouth. He looked over at him, trying to avoid all connotations of intense eyes and hand over mouth with sex.

“Keep it up and I actually will,” Keith threatens before removing his hand. He wipes it off on his pants before crossing his arms on the railing, resting his head on them. James took a moment to study his profile before turning back to his food. Kosmo comes towards him, eyes asking for food and pets; it takes everything in him not to give in.

“What’re you doing in here anyway? Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your crew or something?”

“They were getting a little too rowdy for my tastes,” Keith responds, still staring straight ahead. He places a hand on Kosmo’s back, letting it rest. “It’s great to hang out with them, but when you spend two years on the back of a space whale with just your mom and a wolf, it takes a while to get used to it again.”

“Space whale?”

The corner of Keith’s lips twitch upwards, as if remembering fond memories. “It’s a long story.”

He turns to look at him, eyeing his tray empty of everything save a few scraps of meat James left for Kosmo. “What about you? What brings you here instead of being with your squad?”

James set his tray aside, watching as Kosmo descends on it like a vulture. He makes it a point to mimic Keith’s previous posture, resting against the railings. He shrugs, staring down at his jet. “Same as you. Rizavi made one too many snarky jabs.”

Keith hums, “So you can dish it but not take it huh?”

James’s shoulders tense; he’s not about to let some punk ass fuck buddy diss him in his happy place. He whips around to face Keith, only for his retort to die on his lips. Keith is laughing, a smile on his lips and good God he should not look as cute as he does. The Keith he remembers and the Keith he’s been fucking don’t smile or laugh like that. They’ve always been stony faced little bitches, only giving barest hint of emotion in the throes of passion.

“Relax Griffin, I was just kidding.” Keith’s snickers died down, face relaxing into something of…concern? James couldn’t tell, he was still trying to wrap his head around him laughing. “Rizavi really must’ve pissed you off huh?”

James wrenches his eyes away from Keith; anything to not confront the sudden emotions. “Yeah…guess it hit a little too close to home.”

More like a nail getting smacked down by a hammer, but Keith didn’t need to know that. A warm hand placed solidly on his thigh has him jumping form his thoughts. He looks over at Keith, eyes wide and faint blush on his cheeks. Keith’s jaw worked, eyebrows furrowed together as if he were chewing on a questionable piece of meat. James was about to ask what was up before he finally spoke.

“You ever fuck in the back of an MFE before?” James shook his head, too stunned by the sudden turn of events to do much else. Keith grinned, devilish and shit stirring and oh James was so fucked.

“Neither have I. Let’s fix that.”

It was cramped, hot, and humid inside his MFE, and so many different rules were being broken right now but honestly? James could give approximately zero shits at the moment. Not when he was leaning back in the passenger seat, Keith kneeling between his legs and sucking his cock just the way he liked. James moans, fingers combing through Keith’s thick hair. How the fuck did he get so good at this? Was that a thing for the Paladins of Voltron, just going around sucking alien cock? Or maybe he was practicing on one of his other Paladins; maybe he was practicing on Shirogane.

James growls low in his throat, grip tightening in Keith’s hair. Those two were awfully chummy before Kerberos, and now that Shirogane looked like some sort of Greek god? No wonder Keith’s asshole was always so ready to go; he’d been taking Shirogane’s monster cock on the regular for years now.

He yelped as a sharp pain shot up his thigh. James glared down at Keith who was currently sucking and licking a dark mark into the meat of his thigh. “The hell you do that for?”

“You spaced out,” came Keith’s smooth reply. He crawled up James’s body, settling himself in the other man’s lap. “I’m not doing this cuz I like the smell of sweaty balls you know.”

James pointedly looked out the window of the fight yet, trying to ignore the way Keith idly played with the ends of his hair. He could hear the frown in Keith’s voice when he spoke again. “What the hell has got you so worked up today?”

“Nothing!” James yelped again as Keith leaned in and bit into his neck. “Would you stop that! It’s not my fucking kink!”

“Not what you were saying a couple days ago,” Keith mumbles against his skin. He grasps James’s chin, yanking him to look him directly in the eyes. “Now tell me.”

James sucks in a breath, trying to resist the hypnotic lure of those beautiful eyes. “You and Shirogane ever fuck?”

Keith stares at James for a minute before his face scrunches up. James had seen the face before, when that orange-haired alien dude had cooked something up for the Paladins to try using Earth ingredients. “What? No! Why the fuck would I ever fuck Shiro?”

“Are you blind? Shirogane is hot! Plus…” James averts his eyes. He’s not sure why this part embarrasses him, but it does. “You guys have always had that really close weird bond thing going on.”

“Oh my God…” Keith mumbles, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He sighs, “You ever see that really old show Scrubs? Takes place in a hospital with a bunch of interns or some shit?”

James nods; it was Rizavi and Kinkade’s favorite old timey television show. Keith continues, “You know that one pair of friends on the show? Scrawny white guy and black surgeon dude? TJ and Thurk?”

“JD and Turk.” The correction slips out before James can stop himself; Keith rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, JD and Turk. That’s the kind of relationship we have. Definitely, hundred percent gay, we love each other to the ends of the universe and would do whatever it takes to save each other. But we’re not in love with each other, alright? He’s coping with Adam being dead and all that happened to him, and I’m…”

Keith goes silent, finally averting his eyes from James’s face. His jaw and face do that thing from earlier again. James cocks his head to the side, puzzled. “You’re…?”

“…Dealing with everything else, I guess,” he finally responds quietly. His shoulders are slumped forward; again James is struck just by how vulnerable and small Keith can look when he’s not leading them in battle. The thought is gone when Keith resettles in his lap, lining their bare cocks up together in his hand. His eyes are a smoky haze of lust and want; James is starting to wonder if that’s just a cover.

“Come on, we gonna finish or what,” Keith asks, lazily thrusting against James. James shudders at the feeling, prick perking back up in interest.

“Dunno, the moment is kinda gone,” James manages to mumble. Keith merely smirks, the fire of being issued a challenge lighting up in his eyes.

“Then let’s bring it back.”

More time had passed; the giant robots attacking them had slowed down to a trickle thankfully. Now it was just making alliances and a bunch of other bureaucratic niceties. Which was a pleasant change from the usual “Save the Earth or probably die trying” shtick they’d been doing, except that it kept the Paladins busy. Meaning that it kept Keith busy. Busy, and not needing a good lay to keep his head on straight. Which unfortunately for James meant he had plenty of time to ponder what his life had become and try to find meaningless mundane tasks to fill the time.

(“Why are you so obsessed with Scrubs recently? Is this a Keith thing?”

“It is not a Keith thing.”

“Oh my God it’s a Keith thing.”)

Right now he was engaged in his current least favorite way to pass the time; staring up at the ceiling of his room unable to sleep after curfew had been called. After so many years of being on edge, having to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, James had trouble relaxing when the days had been so…mundane. No secret rendezvous with Keith to tire him out, no life or death situations to deplete his mental energy, just nothing but peace.

He hated it.

James groaned, rolling onto the side facing his bedroom, eyes shut tight. No, hate was too strong of a word. He just…had adapted too quickly to wartime life and was now having trouble adapting back. He’d seen the others have the same struggles; they’d walk around aimlessly, looking for something to do but finding nothing. Funny how they were chosen for their skills at adapting to new situations but sucked complete ass at reverting back.

A warm moist puff of air hit James’s face; he scrunched his nose at the smell. Why the hell did his room suddenly smell like dog breath? He cracked an eye open only to come face to snout with Kosmo.

“Jesus.” He scrambled upright, heart racing. Why the absolute fuck was Kosmo in his room? Sure he’d gotten into the habit of giving the wolf a treat every time he saw him, but that didn’t seem special enough to have him break into his room in the middle of the night. Kosmo merely tilted his head, watching James with an otherworldly sense of intelligence. James sighed, reaching forward to ruffle his fur.

“I dunno what you want, but you should go ba-” A sudden pulling sensation deep in his gut, and soon James found himself sitting in a corner of the Garrison gym in his boxers and undershirt. He whipped his head back and forth, trying to grapple with the realization that he was here and not in his bed. He glared at Kosmo, who was quietly curled up in front of him looking innocent of any crimes.

“Hey, what was that for?!”

“James?”

His spine stiffened; he recognized that voice all too well. He turned towards the source of the voice, eyes the size of dinner plates. He watched as Keith walked over, hair pulled back in a low ponytail, sweat running down his face and soaking the sleeveless undershirt he wore. He noticed how his hands were taped, but more importantly he noticed how low his pants rode on his hips.

“The hell are you doing in here?”

Keith’s voice had him snapping to attention. He gestured wildly at Kosmo. “I…y-your stupid dog came into my room and brought me here!”

Keith narrowed his eyes at Kosmo; Kosmo gave an uninterested yawn. “I thought I told you not to wake people up?”

“Actually I was already awake,” James offered; even after being kidnapped by a wolf he felt the need to make sure Keith knew it followed the rules. Keith blinked, apparently taken aback by the statement, before looking to Kosmo again. Kosmo stood up to stretch before walking forward to Keith. He bumped his head against Keith’s hand, clearly looking for affection.

“I’m not petting you just because you know what a loophole is,” Keith chided; Kosmo’s ears lowered, a whine coming from him. “Don’t give me that look! You know exactly what I meant when I said that. Now take him back to his room.”

James swears up and down that Kosmo gets the same defiant look in his eyes that Keith gets before promptly turning away from him. With head and tail held high he walks over to James, plops himself in his lap, and immediately does not do what Keith asked of him. James and Keith both stare at Kosmo in confusion; Keith growls.

“No, that’s not-Stop petting him, you’re reinforcing bad behavior!”

James pulled his hand away from the soft fur, looking up sheepishly at Keith. He honestly hadn’t even realized he was doing it until Keith called him out. “Sorry…”

Keith groans, walking over to sit beside him. He slides down the wall, shirt riding up as he sits, legs spread out in front of him. This close James can smell the pungent scent of sweat and body odor, dizzy from its force. Keith leans his head back against the wall, eyes slipping closed. The gym fills with silence; James begins petting Kosmo again.

“Why are you in here anyway?” The question claws its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to hold it back. “Curfew’s been in effect for a couple hours now.”

“Couldn’t go back to sleep,” is the blunt response Keith gives. James looks over at him, observing the way he tenses at the question. How his body seemed poised to strike at a moment’s notice. It was so eerily similar to how he was as a child that James finds himself giving into his old habits of prodding when he shouldn’t.

“Why?”

Keith’s jaw tenses, hands clenching and unclenching into fists. James can tell he’s at war with himself, fighting a battle to tell a lie or a truth. It’s odd, watching Keith actually think before he moves. James had only ever known him to act rashly without a thought for the consequences. It was what made him a thorn in everyone’s side, yet at the same time made him such an incredible pilot. As the silence and battle stretched on, James pressed further.

“Keith…”

“Because of the nightmares,” Keith finally shouts; James jumps, startling Kosmo. Keith runs his fingers through his hair, eyes trained on the ground as he continued to speak.

“Because when I close my eyes I see my team dying, I see Shiro dying, or that stupid fight in that God forsaken factory, or my mom dying just within reach or,” Keith heaves a breath, fingers gripping the material of his pants, “or an entire planet being blown up because the Galra have just gotten that powerful now.”

“These alliance meetings…I know they’re important, know that they can change history, but they just…they make it impossible to exhaust myself so I can just black-out in bed.”

Realization dawns on James; he grips Kosmo’s fur harder than necessary. “That’s why we’re sleeping together, isn’t it?”

Keith nods, head still bowed as if in shame. James frowns as he processes the information, smoothing the ruffle he made in Kosmo’s fur. He’s not sure why this surprises him; maybe it’s because Keith has never failed to give off an air of confident nonchalance. Maybe it’s because he never suspected Keith of all people to use sex as a coping mechanism. Maybe it’s because he never thought Keith would involve him in any of his recovery steps. Either way he’s here and a choice needs to be made.

James turns towards Keith, reaching out with the hand not buried in Kosmo’s fur. He tilts Keith’s head up before slanting his mouth against his. He feels the way Keith freezes beneath his touch, lips chapped and slightly parted. Knows the exact moment Keith melts, moving his mouth in an all too familiar dance, allowing him to slip his tongue in. Shudders at the intimate feel of them meeting in the middle, twining around each other in greeting, combined with a tingling sensation in his stomach. Surprised when a sudden force has him pushing Keith down into…a mattress?

James pulls back, panting as he takes in their surroundings. They were back in his room, Kosmo nowhere in sight. He must have teleported them back before going back to Keith’s room.  He looks back to Keith, taking in the sight of cheeks flushed with something other than physical exertion, black hair spread out in a halo around his face. He traces his thumb reverently over the scar he came back with before daring to speak.

“You take care of the universe,” he murmurs; he settles more on top of Keith, straddling his hips. “Now, let me take care of you.”

A barely perceptible nod from Keith has James leaning back down to reconnect their mouths. He slips a hand under Keith’s shirt as their tongues pick up where they had left off. His skin is still tacky with sweat from the workout he did; James feels a desperate need to run his tongue over those hardened muscles. He pushes Keith’s shirt up higher, breaking the kiss only to remove it. He quickly yanks his own off, tossing them both to some part of the room before focusing back on Keith.

In the wake of Keith’s admission, the scars that mar his body tell a new tale to James. They tell the story of a man who’d give everything and anything to save the universe from tyranny. They speak testaments to his utter selflessness, how he puts lives above his own and asks for nothing in return. Before James had simply thought they were attractive, marks of his prowess as a warrior and ability to survive. Now though, he thinks as he traces the scar on his cheek and shoulder with his eyes, now he just hopes that someone had been there to soothe the hurts he suffered.

He presses a gentle kiss to the scar before peppering kisses down his neck. It’s different from the other times, no harsh bites or crudely given hickies. Tonight isn’t about staking claims or taking frustrations out on each other’s bodies. Tonight it’s about simply being there, taking care of the wounds they can’t see. Again James is reminded of that night they shared so long ago; he realizes then that he hadn’t treated Keith like he should have, like he had wanted to. He presses a kiss to the scar on his right shoulder, so dangerously close to his pulse point.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is almost lost in the harsh panting Keith provides. James feels fingers carding through his hair, blunt nails gently scraping his scalp.

“…For what,” comes the hoarse reply. James looks up, eyes locking onto Keith’s. He shrugs, hand idly moving to stroke at his abdomen; Keith’s muscles contract.

“For not treating you right,” he finally managed, moving to kiss a more recent scar further down. He continues moving, pressing kisses along every trace of injury, old and new, speaking between the kisses. The hand in his hair tightens as he moves ever close to Keith’s cock.

“That night, after the pilot error…I should’ve been kinder to you. I shouldn’t have said all the things I said to you, before or during. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but you deserve to know.”

The silence in the room is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. James wonders if Keith will shove him off now and tell him never touch him again. He’s surprised when he hears a isgh, and the hand in his hair pets him instead.

“I…” The hand stutters, before resuming its pace, “I’m sorry too. I know I wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and…I shouldn’t have left you that night. At least, not like that.”

James dares to look up; Keith is looking off to the side, finding the corner of his bed absolutely fascinating. He sees that vulnerable side Keith so rarely shows, and knows that he should tread carefully here. Still, seventeen-year-old James wants answers, wants to know why he was abandoned when all he tried to do was be kind.

“So why did you,” he asks as softly as he can manage, moving back up his body. Keith shrugs, still not making eye contact.

“I dunno, I was…scared? I didn’t know what would happen after, and I already was going to leave, so I just…did.”

James cups his face again. “You scared now?”

“Absolutely terrified.” Keith’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, leaning into the touch. “But…I don’t want to stop.”

James huffs, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms he keeps on his night stand. “That makes two of us then,” He uncaps the lube; Keith begins to shimmy out of his pants and boxers at the sound, “So at least…we can be scared together.”

He pulls his own boxers down, exposing his hard cock nestled in brown curly pubic hair to the air. He rolls the condom down, wanting to be prepared as soon as Keith is slicked and stretched. He takes his time loosening Keith, using one finger at first before gradually moving to two, then three. He never paid much attention to the sounds Keith made before and he curses himself profusely. The moans, the high pitched mewls he makes when James manages to strike his prostate, the expressions he makes on his face as he basks in pleasure…it’s enough to have him grasping the base of his dick to keep from cumming too soon. The rest is a blur; he’s only back to full awareness when he’s pushing inside Keith.

The feeling of that familiar wet heat gripping him tightly, coupled with the flood of newly discovered feelings has James feeling like it’s his first time all over again. Perhaps in a way it is; perhaps this was life giving them a second chance at something incredible. He reaches up, fingers lacing with Keith’s as he sets a slow pace, moans mingling beautifully with the punched out cries from Keith. With every thrust inside him James feels the balance of their relationship shift, changing from something to casual to something deeper than either of them ever dared to dream of. It brings a pleasure far greater than any physical action has ever wrought. He reaches down, taking Keith’s cock in his hand and stroking it, coaxing a gasp and moan from the man beneath him.

“James,” Keith pants; his hands grip tighter to his shoulders, legs moving to wrap around his hips to pull him in deeper. “I can’t…I’m gonna-ah!”

James slants his mouth over Keith’s milking him slowly through his orgasm. He feels his own drawing ever closer, abdomen drawing tight. His pace speeds up ever so slightly and, with a shout of Keith’s name, he spills inside the condom. Panting he rests, pulling away from Keith’s mouth; he chuckles as he sees that just like before Keith has already passed out in his bed, chest rising and falling steadily. He slowly pulls out and makes quick work of cleaning the both of them up. He pulls the covers up, and allows himself to fall asleep to the sight of Keith in his bed.

In the morning James presses himself against Keith’s back with a kiss to his shoulder, intertwining their fingers together, and feels like old wounds can finally begin to heal.

[fueledbysprite]

The Morning After

continuation of  https://writing-from-the-void.tumblr.com/post/172780845183/up-too-late

thanks to @lotus-duckies again for her awesome ideas

Marinette woke up somewhere around 2am. She blinked around blearily for a moment, eyes adjusting to her surroundings before realizing how early it was, and the fact that she wasn’t sleeping in her own bed. She flailed around for a few moments, meaning to try and sit up, but relaxed and gave in once she came to. It was then that she heard the faintest of murmurs, straining her ears and willing herself to stay still to hear what they were saying. The murmuring stopped for a second, and she glanced around, looking for the source when she noticed something else. Oh, right, Nathaniel was staying over the night.

She blinked and moved her head a bit closer to his. He was snoring softly, but also mumbling something under his breath that she couldn’t catch. She leaned closer yet, but as quietly as possible so she wouldn’t disturb him.

“...I’m going to miss you, Marinette...”

Marinette froze involuntarily. She quickly crawled back to her previous place, curling up to create as much distance between them as possible, and hid her head in between her legs and her chest. She could feel her face heating up and silently screamed at herself to stay quiet.

I didn’t hear anything, she reminded herself. Just go back to sleep and pretend you never woke up…

***

The next time Marinette woke up, sunlight was flooding the entire attic and she was the only one in the room. Her clothes sat in a neatly folded pile in front of her closet, but Nathaniel was nowhere to be seen. She looked around in confusion, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, when it finally occurred to her how late it must have been. She looked around for her phone, finding it somewhere under the chaise, and clicked it on: the screen read 9:01.

Marinette nearly dropped the device and immediately activated panic mode. She scrambled to gather her things from all around the room and change her clothes as fast as possible. She grabbed a croissant from downstairs, raced down the stairs and sprinted inside the school building. There, she slowed down and paused long enough to only just catch her breath before throwing open the classroom door.

“Sorry I’m late!” she screeched, throwing herself towards her seat before Mme Bustier called her out again.

Only, Mme Bustier was nowhere to be seen. In fact, none of the students seemed to be sitting quietly at their own desks as usual this morning.

“I’ll have you know that my father can easily have you arrested and thrown in jail for drugs,” Chloe announced.

Marinette turned and was surprised to see that the object of the blonde’s declaration was none other than Nino. She stared uncomprehendingly, and Nino, too, looked similarly nonplussed.

“Chloe, for the last time, I swear, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I never once called last night.”

“Oh really?” the heiress asked skeptically. “I got a call last night threatening me if I didn’t go to some shady alleyway at midnight. Who else could it be?”

Nino looked incredibly exasperated as he struggled to convince Chloe that it wasn’t him who had called, and Marinette was just about to intervene herself when Alya came up to her.

“About time you showed up,” she said, unimpressed. “Now spill.”

“Wha-what do you mean?” Marinette asked, more confused yet.

“Come on, girl, don’t beat around the bush. You know what I’m talking about!” When Marinette still looked baffled as ever, the blogger sighed and leaned in. “You know,” she said meaningfully. “What’s up between you and Nath?”

Marinette blinked several times.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked.

Alya arched an unconvinced eyebrow.

“Nathaniel,” she repeated, as if that might surface an inkling of recognition in Marinette’s mind.

“Yeah...what about him?” Marinette responded doubtfully.

Alya rolled her eyes.

“Fine, guess I’ll just have to spell it out for you. Last night, apparently, Nathaniel stayed over at your place and you two got up to some...interesting...activities...hm?” she raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Come on, now, give me all the deets, girl!”

Marinette stared, realization dawning on her.

“Ohhh, you think-ohh, okay, no, nevermind, no-NO! Now I know what you’re talking about...yeah, no, you’re totally wrong, it’s not like that, you’ve got it all wrong...”

***

Meanwhile, Nino had finally managed to pull himself away from Chloe’s paranoid scrutiny and cornered Nathaniel at the back of the room.

“Honestly, dude, I would never have imagined you as that kind of person!” he expressed in incredulity.

“I’m...not?” Nathaniel asked dubiously. “What are we talking about, again?”

“Sure, man, go ahead and deny it now. I guess you never do know what to expect with the quiet ones…” Nino shook his head, sighing. “Seriously, though, I totally had you down for this meek, shy, socially awkward guy. Who'd've thought?”

Nathaniel stared in confusion.

“I'm sorry, what happened?” he asked.

Nino looked at him in disbelief.

“So you're telling me you weren't at Marinette’s last night?”

“Well, yeah, I was-oh. Oh. I see, now…” the redhead let out a shaky breath of relief. “So that's all. I was scared something happened that I didn't know about…”

“And you're totally fine that you spent the night at a girl's place where you proceeded to reveal that this innocent shy guy is all a facade?!”

“Come on, you're making it sound like we actually did something questionable-”

Nino stared in shock.

“What are you talking about?! That's exactly what happened!”

Nathaniel's mouth went dry.

“I, huh? Wha-what d’you mean?” he stammered. “You don't think we were…that, do you?”

“What else am I supposed to be thinking?” Nino replied bewildered. “We got a call from her place last night, nobody was responding but from what it sounding like was going on,” he gestured meaningfully. “Y’know…”

“I...um...sorry, I just…don't know how to respond to that, er… Lemme just tell you that I swear, that is not what was going on, okay?” he asked, almost desperately. “Please tell me no one else knows about this?”

“Well, yeah, why would we tell anyone???” Nino assured him. “Alya’s going nuts, though, she totally thinks you two are having some kind of secret affair-”

“No!” Nathaniel cut him off, pulling away and running to the front of the room, where Alya was interrogating Marinette.

“Hey, Nathaniel, maybe you'll give me some straight answers-” Alya started when she noticed him.

“It's not what you think it is!” he insisted quickly.

She paused, looking back and forth between the two.

“Well,” she shrugged, “if you guys are gonna keep denying it, no point trying to get any answers out of you…” She sighed disappointedly, but stopped questioning Marinette nonetheless.

Nathaniel went to the back of the room after that, and Mme Bustier arrived a few moments later.

“Sorry, class, I ran late this morning and couldn't get here on time,” she apologized, signaling the beginning of class.

Nino quickly slid into the seat next to Adrien, who shifted closer and leaned in.

“Say, what was that all about back there with Nathaniel?” he asked.

“Nothing you have to worry about,” the DJ assured his friend. Adrien shrugged and turned back to the lesson.

***

Adrien wasn't the only one confused and concerned about the incident. Marinette and Nathaniel found themselves being plagued by curious glances all day, and by the time they were dismissed to go home, even Marinette was ready to change her address and move a couple continents away. She assured herself she wasn't being paranoid, but she could self-consciously sense inevitable rumors floating around the school.

***

They decided to meet up at Nathaniel's place this time. His house was further away and more isolated from all the curiosity hovering around the bakery apartment.

Marinette treated herself to a snack that Nathaniel's mom had left out for them, then they both went to his bedroom. Marinette shrugged off her bag and threw herself against the softest platform available, which just so happened to be his bed. She pulled one of his pillows out from underneath her and hugged it to her chest.

“Ughhh, that was the worst,” she expressed hopelessly.

Nathaniel sighed in accord and settled into his desk chair.

“I'm really regretting those prank calls, now,” he agreed. “More trouble than they're worth.”

Marinette nodded glumly.

“So, I guess we're not working on the decorations tonight?” he asked.

“Mm, the stuff is at my place and I don't wanna go back there right now,” she mumbled, forcing herself to sit up.

She got up off the bed and went to Nathaniel's closet, pulling it open.

“Say, were my clothes too loose, you said?” she asked thoughtfully.

“A bit, yeah.”

“And your own? You're always cuffing your sleeves and pants.”

“It isn't really easy to find stuff in my size that doesn't have a super-childish logo plastered on it,” he shrugged. “I like this style, but it didn't come in a small-enough size. This shirt was size extra-small and it only fit me properly after, like, three times in the wash.”

“I could design you some if you want,” she offered. “I sewed practically my entire wardrobe. I could make something for you too.”

“I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience,” he assured her.

“I'd love to, honestly,” she told him.

“Well, uh, okay, then,” he relented.

For some time, there wasn't much talking, just Marinette rustling around, taking measurements and making notes on his style. Finally, she put the last sweatshirt back in the closet and stepped away, a sheet of references in hand. She put it away in her backpack for safekeeping, then returned to Nathaniel's room.

“So, about last night, huh?��� Nathaniel asked once she had settled into a comfortable place on the floor.

“Ugh, Alya's never going to let me hear the end of it,” she groaned.

“Mm, but what about the others?” he asked. “Nino swore he wouldn't tell anyone, but I guess they already know something or other. Chloe thinks it was Nino who sent that first prank call.”

“Well, we definitely don't know the person who got the second one, and they most probably won't recognize is ever, so that's one good thing…”

“And after the third one, Alya’s convinced we're a couple or something,” he finished. “She wouldn't believe you, would she?”

Marinette shook her head.

“It's fine, though, we both know that you still like Adrien,” he said in an attempt to brighten the mood.

It seemed to have the opposite effect, however. Marinette looked horrified.

“Oh my gosh,” she groaned, stuffing her face into a nearby pillow. “I completely forgot. What is Adrien going to think after this?!”

“He doesn't know, though…” Nathaniel supplied.

“But he could find out! What if he thinks we're a couple and that I don't like him! That would be the actual absolute worst!” she sighed hopelessly. “My life is ruined!”

“I promise it won't be that bad,” Nathaniel consoled. “If he thinks anything is going on between us, I'll make sure he gets the facts straight. I could even stay away from you so he doesn't get the wrong message,” he suggested. Marinette looked up and glared.

“So you want to leave me, too?” she asked, distraught.

“Nonono, it's the opposite actually,” he explained quickly. “I just want you to be happy. That's all, I promise.”

Marinette softened, the memory of Nathaniel talking in his sleep suddenly resurfacing in the strangest of ways and times. She quickly pushed it out of her mind.

“You're a huge dork, you know that?” she told him.

“Well, I mean, I thought the posters would get the message across by now, uh…” he chuckled awkwardly, waving to the decorations adorning majority of the walls. Mostly anime and comic book superheroes.

“Don't worry, we'll find a way out of this,” she promised him.

“Of course we will,” he agreed. “And, uh, lesson learned. No more prank calls.”

“Aw, really?” Marinette asked teasingly. “Darn it, I was hoping you might use that sweet-talking thing on Chloe, see what she thought of it.”

“Not a chance,” Nathaniel told her stiffly. “Don't even think about it.”

“Well, I guess I can dream, can't I?” she giggled, sticking out her tongue.

“Maybe I should do it to you and send Adrien a recording,” he suggested.

“You wouldn't,” Marinette said in horror.

“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay I'll stop teasing you,” Marinette put her hands up in surrender.

“And no more sleepovers,” he added.

“Right, definitely no more sleepovers,” she agreed.

***

A decision that neither of them would be able to keep.

But that's a story for another time.

[luxlib-blog]

Hey guys! I’m re-opening commissions officially, and with that, I have made a new post with new prices! I’m very tight on cash, I am a college art student, and I receive little to no aid from my family due to their financial situation. What this means is that I’m very broke and can barely afford the supplies I need for art school, as well as supplies I need to live! You can help me out by commissioning me, or reblogging this post!

All Information is under the cut!

Important stuff:

*All prices are in USD! I can do conversions for you to any currency upon request.

*I take PayPal! I can also take all major credit cards, but with an extra fee of 2.9% + $0.30. Let me know how you wish to pay for the commission ahead of time, and I can calculate this for you.

*For anything over $10, I require half payment upon the start of the commission, and full payment before finalizing. (this is roughly 2/3 of the way through the commission, right before I either shade, blend shading, add textures and overlays, or do any sort of refinement)

*As stated above, I will draw furries/anthro art, mild nudity, original characters, characters from any media as long as there are references of some sort, and pretty much anything else. I will not draw mecha and nsfw, due to a lack of skill. I should also state that I am not necessarily the best at anthro art, but I am definitely capable of drawing them! As for characters with no references, I will require an extra fee for the time spent trying to interpret your vision of the character. That fee is $5.

Some extra deets on commissions to clear up any confusion:

- Sketch: color of the final sketch can be whatever you wish, and can have a flat color background. Sometimes when I sketch, I add in minor shading via hatching to help add three-dimensionality to the work. If you decide that you do not want this, let me know!

- Lineart: can also be colored and can have a flat background. The lineart colors can reflect the color of the character, if desired. I can also fill the character with one flat color to create contrast between the character and the background. This is your choice, and it’s free of charge!

- Shaded: can either be cell or smooth shading. Both may have overlays and other effects, depending on how they add to the work and if they help create color harmony. 

- Environments: will be simple, but with enough detail to help express the character pictured, set a mood, and otherwise bring life into a piece. With the example above, Jolt (my oc) is standing behind a brick wall with the camera at an abnormal angle to emphasis his movements. The bricks have been textured, and his shadows bend to the environment. It is details like this that make the piece feel more solid and bring the character to life!

And finally, Add ons!! these are things you can tack on to your commission if you want to spice things up!

+ flat colors for sketches and lineart - +$3-5, depending on complexity of outfits

+ extra characters - take the price of the commission with one character, cut it in half, and then add that total to the base price. For example, one full body lineart piece is $15 so two characters would be $22.50!

+ make commission into a reference sheet - this will add a back view and 2 headshots to any full body commission! The prices varies based on the type of commission. For Sketches: +$7. For Lineart: +$10. For Shaded: +$18. I will not be doing this for a piece with an environment.

+ character with no references - as stated at the top of the post, any character without a reference sheet will require an additional payment of $5!

[biasedwriting]

Tales of a Consulting Firm ||1||

Find all parts here

We love feedback so you can ping either @vixxscifiwritings ( @animeotakupooh )or me :)

It wasn’t exactly a large office she walked into. They were a start-up after all. All she knew was that they had openings and she was in need of a job. She dusted an invisible speck of dirt off her grey work slacks as she thumbed at her documents surveying the office and the many cubicles in her vision.

It was mainly white and grey with royal blue pin boards. The area looked spick and span at first glance, but she didn’t miss the messy cubicle tables or the stack of boxes piled untidily in a corner of the large room.

“You must be Kim Minah,” she jumped at the sudden voice behind her as she turned to see a tall hulking man with a childish smirk on his face “did you bring your resume with you?” she nodded, his voice sounding familiar.

“Mr. Han Sanghyuk I’m assuming? It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She greeted as he waved towards the little meeting room. He laughed and nodded to her to take a seat as she felt slightly more at ease. Reaching out for her documents she panicked when his eyebrows quirked at the details in the printed sheets. He looked up at her gravely before sighing causing her to worry.

“We’re the same age.”

Minah’s jaw dropped as he cracked her another devilish grin. She made a mental note of the guy’s position in the office as the head of HR. Her father had warned her about men like him…I mean, people from HR. They were devious devils who extracted money like it was their birth right. Going by the first move, she knew she had to be cautious. Sanghyuk’s eyes roved over the documents again before looking back up, Minah gritted her teeth, preparing herself of the worst.

“What kind of candy would you keep on your table?”

“I beg your pardon?” she blinked, gaping at the man who surveyed her expression with great interest. The devilish smirk was still plastered on his face as he repeated.

“What kind of candy would you keep on your table?”

Minah pondered over the question for a couple of seconds before looking back up at him “Sour Bombs.”

Sanghyuk’s eyebrow twitched as he leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table “Sour Bombs?”

Minah met his gaze yet again while nodding “Yeah, because most people who take candy from other people’s desk by the handful. So why not derive some pleasure from their contorted faces as they cringe at the taste of critic acid?”

Sanghyuk leaned back with an amused smile before sticking his arm forward “Excellent, you’re hired.”

There was a silence as Minah stared at the man in front of her “Wait, hold on, what’s my job? What’s my pay? I know this is a consulting firm, but what exactly is it that you guys do?”

Sanghyuk's smile in response was something she couldn't place her finger on. Was it adorable or downright scary? Minah hesitantly returned the smile as the tall man leaned back on the chair.

"Well, VIXX Consultancies..."

"Ah," her voice escaped before she could even control herself. Sanghyuk looked at her questioningly. "I was wondering how to pronounce the name since...well it sounds a lot like that Vicks Vapour Rub." She smiled sheepishly as another amused laugh escaped his lips before he continued.

"We do...a little bit of everything."

Minah mentally prayed that this wasn't some underground Mafia business as the man seated behind the white table yawned.

"You're job profile is also to do a little bit of everything...and your pay is well..."

"'A little bit of everything' wouldn't fit here" Minah cut him off as he grinned.

"550000 won is the starting salary. The more 'little bit of everything you do, the more you'll earn." The devilish grin was back as Minah contemplated the salary. It wasn't a bad offer.

"I see some hesitance here. By a little bit of everything, I meant legal stuff of course. You might just work under different departments. That is all." Sanghyuk reassured her as she looked up at him in understanding before reaching her arm out.

"Well, then I accept."

A vigorous shake of hands and Sanghyuk clapped.

Almost as if in cue, the door flew open and another man strode in. He had a motherly feel to him and an air of confidence about him.

"Excellent, we'll start you off today since you seem all ready! Meet Hakyeon, mother of VIXX Consultancies...oww!" Sanghyuk's winced as the man next to him viciously neck chopped him. Minah stood up.

"Ah, I'm Kim Minah." She greeted as he warmly shook her hand.

"Cha Hakyeon. Head of accounting," he turned to Sanghyuk's "who is she working under?"

"Monster."

"Ah," Hakyeon nodded grimly as Minah gaped at them in panic. Who the hell was monster and why was she working under said monster?! Hakyeon turned back to Minah with a smile” don’t worry Haneul will take good care of you. If Hyuk gives you any trouble, you can come to me."

Minah wasn't reassured at all considering said person was called monster. But when she was led to her cubicle and a smartly dressed lady came up to her and grinned, she finally felt like she was in the presence of a normal person.

"Hi! I'm sure you met the youngest and oldest idiots here. I'm Haneul, I head tech here. So Hyuk told me you're going to be working under all of us. Welcome to tech."

"I'm Kim..."

"Minah, yeah. Brat sent me the deets. I'll be setting up your system now." Haneul bent over the desktop to configure it. Minah's eyes glued themselves to a man who had just entered her line of vision. He looked like a Da Vinci creation. Or rather, a Greek sculpture.

"That abstract piece of artwork is Lee Hongbin. He heads marketing." Haneul stated nonchalantly shifting away from the computer. Minah chuckled.

"Ah, a pretty boy? Man there are too many of those these days. You guys should have made him stand outside the office just to attract clients." She laughed as Haneul turned as looked at her. There was approval in her eyes.

"Thank God for that response. I see why brat accepted you. We'll get along famously."

"Were you half scared I would ask you for his number?" Minah asked as Haneul leaned against the partition between the cubicles. The latter rolled her eyes.

"Honestly I've been asked for his number so many times, I'm thinking of selling it for hard cash."  She watched proudly as Minah's eyes rounded in surprise and admiration.

"Woah. That's actually a brilliant idea."

"Duck child. Silent and violent is here." Haneul's voice came quickly as Minah ducked and peeked out from behind the partition. Long noodle limbs strutted in like a model. His face vaguely reminded her of a cat. But she couldn't look for too long as he quickly entered his office and the door flew shut. She looked at Haneul for an explanation only to see that her boss was busy with another man throwing his best aegyo at her.

"Haneulliieeee pweeeese help me?" He had the longest nose Minah had seen on a person and pillowy lips that he pursed and pouted till she watched Haneul crumble.

"Fine Lee Jaehwan. But this will be the last time!" She groaned, frustrated "plus boss just walked in and you're already causing trouble. Who put you in charge of creatives? What an idiot he is."

Ah, so aegyo man was Jaehwan. Minah mentally noted his name.

"Taekwoonie saw my potential." Jaehwan thumped his chest as Haneul rolled her eyes.

That mean cat man was Taekwoon, he was the boss. Minah nodded to herself. She heard Haneul yell at Jaehwan for messing up something that was under Wonshik’s jurisdiction and it was stupid of him to ask her for help since she couldn’t do anything about it. Jaehwan whined pitifully as Haneul sighed yet again before turning her attention to Minah who was going through the system software, trying to get herself acquainted with it.

“Minah, go to the inbox and you’ll find your work in it. Get started while I help this dummy out. Just peek over the cubicle and ask someone if you need anything.” She explained as Jaehwan looked at Minah with exceeding interest.

“Hi, I’m Jaehwan! Nice to meet you!” a sweet smile was sent in her direction, overwhelming her. She returned the greeting with the appropriate formalities.

“So…” he began only to have Haneul clear her throat and point in another direction “I’ll see you around?”

“Right.” Minah nodded as Haneul sent her an apologetic look before dragging him off. She turned to her system, finally opening the inbox only to feel another pair of eyes on her. Once she had finished reading the instructions on the email, she turned around to see another tall man still looking at her. What was with the company and tall men?!

“Uh, I’m Wonshik, I was told there was a problem?” he looked at her as she shook her head “Ah, okay.” His voice was deep and smooth and Minah could see him looking around awkwardly, as she stood up to greet him. She figured he hadn’t come to solve any problems, but to take a look at the newbie in the workforce.

“I’m Minah and I’m new here, please take care of me.”

The awkwardness faded a little as he greeted her back only to have all further conversation interrupted by Jaehwan running away from a fuming Hakyeon and Haneul.

Minah blinked.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Next

[marchingatmidnight]

Title: you’ll come undone Summary: Dreamsharing is, quite frankly, a trip. Especially when someone is tripping balls and someone else is on a trip across the country.

Alternatively, “Eric Bittle Deals With A Lot”

. Read on AO3

Bitty has never shared dreams like this before.

It's not that he's never had a shared dream. He was still a little young for it all when he was figure skating, but he was close enough with his high school hockey team that dreams would overlap if more than one of them fell asleep on the bus at the same time.

But this was different.

There usually has to be some level of familiarity, and while no studies have been conclusive, it's generally accepted that similar schedules or routines make it easier. Some people only end up sharing dreams with people they live with, like a spouse, while others end up able to project and receive over long distances.

Bitty, of course, ends up with a decent chunk of the hockey team messing with his dreams.

It was more tolerable and less frequent when he was still in the dorms - although his roommate had had a dream about his family's cat that still made Bitty feel a little green whenever a stray tabby got too close - but now that he was living in the Haus, it was almost impossible to go a night without feeling slightly like he was trespassing in someone's head.

Bitty walks into Ransom, Holster, and Shitty already at the table, slowly starting to truly wake up. He moodily slides into a chair.

"Whoever had the caterpillar dream," he says, propping his head up on his hand and letting his eyes close, "isn't allowed to watch Alice In Wonderland ever again."

When he opens his eyes, Ransom and Holster are glaring at Shitty. Jack walks into the room and makes a beeline for the fridge.

"Shitty," he says as he's rummaging around for the protein shakes he tends to favor for breakfast. "No more smoking and Disney movies."

"But -"

"No."

"Jack, it's -"

"No. Or at least watch them in French."

"Jack, my friend, why the fuck would I, someone who is violently bad at even remembering that there are other languages beside English, watch a Disney movie in French?"

Jack turns around and looks way more intimidating than anyone should get to look with a banana flavored protein shake in their hand.

"I don't know, Shits. Why would a caterpillar need socks that large?"

---------

Most of the times the dreams aren't even that remarkable or noteworthy, except in how often they all share, and certainly not disrupting. Most of the time it's something that's only noticeable because of a certain quality, like the difference between the foreground and the background of an old cartoon, that makes it feel distinctly other.

But it's not bad.

Bitty talks to rugby guy about it over coffee at Annie's. He didn't bring it up; his date had mentioned he didn't get enough sleep the night before and when Bitty asked why, said it was because he and his teammate had shared dreams and it had thrown him off enough that he couldn't go back to sleep.

"Oh?" Bitty says. "Does that happen every time your dreams overlap? That sounds like it would get annoying quickly."

"Not all the time but - probably most of the time. It's not too bad, it doesn't happen very often." His date shrugs.

"Really? Dream sharing happens all the time with us."

His date frowns.

"Like, how often? Once a week?"

"No, um - usually once a night. But most of the time they're just small dreams like - I'm putting a jersey in a locker room and it's not mine. Or someone is walking into the house and I see myself, then it's over. Things like that."

"That's - really weird."

"What, really? I thought it was pretty normal for teams. You know, we all have to be awake at the same time, we eat together, we all have practice, so our schedules line up. And we're all pretty close." Bitty tries not to feel offended, but Rugby Guy seems like he's suddenly a little too surprised by the hockey team's dreams.

"Well, yeah, but - that's a lot."

"Huh. Well. You get used to it. Until caterpillars come into the equation."

Five minutes later Rugby Guy tries to kiss him, and Bitty makes up an excuse about practice to run away.

----------

Someone has been having dreams about Camilla Collins.

They all assume it's Jack, because who else? It makes Ransom and Holster give him pointed looks across a Kegster when half of the upperclassmen of the tennis team show up, led by Camilla.

Bitty doesn't see all of the dreams, which is nice because they're a little. . . charged.

Bitty is no stranger to sexual dreams that aren't his, but they're usually infrequent and one time occurrences that he can brush off in the morning. But these keep happening, and it doesn't help that Jack is the person having it.

The dreams are so focused, are so obviously had by someone who is familiar with Camilla. Lingering appreciation for her arms, for her lips, for the strength in her thighs. . .

It's like his subconscious jumping up and down while yelling you fell for a straight boy who's lusting after a girl! A girl he's had sex with!

It's getting old, to say the least.

It had been a blissful week and a half with no Camilla dreams for Bitty, although Shitty had mentioned having one two days ago, until Bitty woke up swearing on Saturday.

He stumbles downstairs, a little hungover and more than a little irritated, to find Ransom and Holster already at the table, head on their folded arms.

"Please, mysterious footsteps, be Bitty, oh fantastic and wonderful maker of hungover brunch -"

"If you want brunch today you're either finally learning how to turn on the stove or going to Jerry's," Bitty says, sitting down with a thump.

They each crack open an eye at him.

"You're grumpy today," Holster remarks. "So you got caught up in that shitstorm too, huh?"

Bitty just groans and lets his head fall against the table.

"Man, I never thought about that," Ransom says. "It's gotta be extra weird for you, right? Like, because you don't -"

"Ransom, please stop talking," Bitty mumbles. Ransom was almost definitely going to say because you don't like girls and not because you're seeing into your crush's wet dream, but Bitty doesn't really want to think about it either way.

"We're just going to have to get Jack laid," Holster says, and Bitty wonders if he could get away with murdering his teammates.

"Bitty, my man, my wonderful Georgia peach, master of all things edible, is there brunch in our future?" Shitty says plaintively, sliding into the last available chair. Bitty just flips him off and gets a sigh in return. "Fair, I suppose."

"Don't mind him, Bitty Bits is grumpy because Jack won't stop plaguing his dreams with -"

"Because I won't stop what?" Jack says, pulling the earbuds out of his ears as he walks back into the kitchen from his morning run.

"Jack, please. For all of us. Get laid," Ransom mutters into the table.

Jack frowns.

"What? Are you trying to set me up again? Because please don't."

"Do you need us to set you up? Because we will. Just say the word," Holster swears.

"Please. Really. Don't." He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Then please go - I don't even know what to tell you, but I think if I dream about Camilla one more time I'm never going to be able to look anyone on the tennis team in the eye again," Bitty bemoans.

"Oh," Jack says, shoulders loosening. "Those dreams. They're not mine."

"What do you mean they're not yours, of course they're yours," Holster mumbles. "Who else would be having them? You're the only one who's ever been at all involved with her."

Jack shrugs.

"Don't know what to tell you. But it's not me having them. Well, I've shared them a few times - which is awkward for me, too."

"That's almost worse," Ransom moans. "Who the hell could it possibly be -"

"You all look awful," Lardo says, waltzing into the Haus. "Did I leave my charger in here?"

It could be the hangover talking. It could be the fact that it would be nice to have someone besides Jack having dreams about Camilla. But -

"Holy shit," Shitty whispered. "Are you - walk of shaming?"

"Do I look ashamed?" Lardo says, coolly plugging in her phone. "Just because all of you had to wake up hungover in your own bed doesn't mean I had to."

In a flash, Shitty has an arm draped over her shoulders and is leaning in dramatically.

"Well then, will you at least do your closest and most loyal friends the honor of. . . spilling the deets?" Shitty wiggles his eyebrows dramatically.

"You all can't possibly care that much -" Lardo turns around to everyone staring at her. "Or you can. Whatevs. I've been talking to her a little bit because - it's a long story. Anyway. Someone spilt beer all over Camilla, but it was late, so I walked home with her. And then. . . I didn't leave."

"Camilla," Shitty says flatly. "Camilla. . . ?"

"Collins? Do we know any other Camillas?"

It's silent for another beat, and the room explodes in sound.

"Et tu, Lardo?!" Ransom yells.

"Ah, that's why Camilla asked if she could come last night," Jack realizes.

"Laaaardoooo," Bitty groans, "I thought we were friends."

"You guys are usually never this way when I hook up, what the fuck?"

"Most of the time when you hook up you don't project your dreams about them to the whole team," Shitty says. Lardo, to Bitty's astonishment, blushes.

"Oh. Well - Is that what you all were talking about?"

"We all thought it was Jack," Holster says. Lardo swears.

"Fuck, I could have pretended it was Jack. Shit. That would have been smart."

-----------

It's in the bylaws: You don't lie about what you see in someone else's dream.

You don't have to talk about it. You don't ever have to acknowledge that it happened. But if anyone asks, you never lie. Sometimes personal information gets out and it's just easier if everyone is honest up front.

So when Bitty wakes up gasping from a nightmare about football players and utility closets, tangled in his sheets and soaked in sweat, he's not all that surprised to find Jack and Shitty already at the kitchen table.

They look up guiltily as he walks in, and he sighs.

"I'm making hot chocolate, if anyone wants any. So you both - saw -" Bitty can't make himself finish.

"Yeah Bits," Shitty says, gently. "We did."

Bitty heats up milk in a saucepan, enough for the three of them. He lets himself fall into the routine of making hot chocolate and puts a mug in front of the both of them.

"Um -" Jack starts to protest.

"Drink it, Zimmermann," Bitty says crossly, settling down with his own mug across the table. Jack sheepishly takes a sip.

"You wanna talk about it?" Shitty asks, gently nudging Bitty under the table.

"What's there to talk about? You two saw the whole thing." Bitty doesn't even have to look up to know they're exchanging looks. "No, no, don't do that. Look, just - don't."

"Okay, Bits," Jack says, and leaves it.

"But," Bitty bites his lip. "Can we maybe leave extra checking practice until the day after tomorrow? I need a day to sleep in."

----------

Bitty doesn't tend to share his own dreams very often. He sees everyone else's plenty, but it's not very often it goes the other way around.

Which is a good thing, Bitty thinks, as he wakes up rutting into his mattress for the second time that week. Still, he creeps downstairs, waiting for any sound or movement that meant someone might have shared in that dream.

"I'm just saying, it was fucking weird." Bitty froze on the second to last step, just out of the line of sight of the kitchen.

"You can't tell me that that was actually the first time you've seen Holster's dick," and Bitty almost has to sit down with relief. It sounds like they're talking about someone's wet dream - about Holster? - but not his, exposing his embarrassing crush on their captain.

Meanwhile, Jack wakes up later and more confused than he has in a long time. He grabs his phone off the table, and types out a text to Shitty. He hesitates, then deletes it without sending.

Is it weird to jerk off after seeing someone else's wet dream of yourself?

-------------

It takes a while for Providence to feel like home, for Providence to be the place Jack wants to go back to at the end of the day.

At first, when he and Bitty hadn't seen each other in two weeks, he wondered if he had made a mistake staying so close to Samwell. The Haus is tantalizing close, Bitty is tantalizing close, and he's homesick for the first time in a long time.

Jack first realizes Providence is home when he wakes up shaking in a hotel room wishing he was looking at the ceiling of his apartment.

He takes in a shaky breath, and has barely started exhaling when his phone starts vibrating obnoxiously on the nightstand.

"Hello?" he croaks.

"Jack." It's Bitty, because of course it is, and Jack must have shared that with him, oh God - "Jack, are you - that was -"

"I'm - yeah," Jack says, because what do you even say? "I'm sorry."

"It's - don't be sorry, Jack, don't be sorry -"

"No, no, I - that was bad. I'm sorry you got it too." Got it, like it's a cold. Like Bitty didn't just see -

"I just - are you okay?"

Jack tries to take in a deep breath. He fails, tries again. Tries to completely expand his chest.

"I'm getting there. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It's just - I'm not sure I've ever seen someone else's nightmare before, like that. It was really - vivid."

Jack squeezes his eyes shut against the guilt.

"I'm sorry."

"Sweetheart, it's - it's fine. Really. It happened, but it was just a dream." Bitty hesitates on the line. "Are you. . . are you going back to sleep right away?"

"No," Jack sighs, resigned. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Oh," and there's relief in Bitty's voice. "Okay. Me neither. How's Arizona?"

Jack settles into the pillows a little better.

"Wet, if you can believe it."

"Really? It was bright and sunny here today. That seems a bit backwards."

"Yeah." There's a beat of silence that Jack is suddenly desperate to fill. "When I woke up, I wished I was home."

"I think that's pretty normal, after that."

"Yeah, but. . . Home was the apartment. That's the first time - first I've felt like that, about Providence."

He can see Bitty's warm smile if he closes his eyes.

"That's great, honey," and even after all that had happened that night, Jack was starting to believe it would be.

-------------

Two months later, Jack wakes up in Seattle still half ensnarled in the dream, pushing his hips down into the hotel mattress and groaning when it's not enough. As soon as he has any kind of true sense about him, he snatches his phone off the nightstand and slams Bitty's contact.

"Jack," Bitty says, breathless.

"Bitty," Jack whines, not even caring how pathetic he sounds. "Bits, I was so close."

"I'm sorry, Ransom and Holster dropped something and it woke me up," Bitty says. Time zones suck, Jack decides, as his hips fuck down into the mattress without his consent again. "But I've got a few minutes before my alarm goes off, so if you want -"

"Yes," Jack moans, long and drawn out, rolling onto his back and shoving a hand down his boxers. He's close, was so close when the dream cut off, but now he can roll his hips into the tightness of his hand, which is much better than the mattress, anyway.

"Fuck, Jack, been too long, miss you, miss being with you, miss the face you make just before you come -"

And really, Jack's surprised it took even that long, considering how keyed up he had been when he woke up. He tightens his grip and his hips stutter up into fist before he comes, relief washing over him in waves.

"God, Bits. Don't even know what you do to me, thousands of miles away and I still can't stop thinking about you -"

Bitty lets out a soft whimper, but that's all Jack gets as he comes. The combination of orgasm and exhaustion is wearing down on him, though, and his eyes feel heavy.

"Miss you," he murmurs down the line, and he hears a soft sigh from Bitty.

"I miss you too, honey. Change before you fall back asleep, okay? I have to get up, but I'll talk to you later."

"Mmkay," Jack mumbles, and then hear the line go dead.

He shimmies his underwear off and deposits them unceremoniously off the side of the bed before he falls asleep deeper than before.

---------------

Bitty has been trying to tell to his parents for two weeks now.

He wants to tell them that he's gay, that he's dating Jack, that he got an amazing internship in Providence for the summer that makes Jack deliriously proud and happy to think about. But every time he Skypes with them, every time he calls his mom, he can't seem to get the words out.

He'd finally broke down in frustrated tears that night, both of them in the kitchen after Jack's game. Eventually Jack had been able to coax him to bed to at least lay down and relax, even if he couldn't sleep. Bitty does eventually fall asleep, and Jack isn't far behind.

Jack can't say he's surprised, really, when he falls into Bitty's dream.

It's not a very corporeal dream. There's just a feeling of distinct terror, and the underlying feeling of being alone, like the whole world had turned on him -

"Bits?" Jack calls out, slightly desperate. "Bitty!"

There's no answer, and so he thrashes, suddenly trapped by something -

Jack wakes up tangled in the sheets, and almost shoves Bitty onto the floor trying to get out of them.

"Jesus, Jack," Bitty mumbles. "I know getting my nightmare wasn't fun, but it's not like it was fun for me either."

"Bitty," Jack says urgently, wrapping Bitty tight in his arms. "You're not doing this alone, okay? You don't have to do it alone."

"I know that, Jack. We're a team."

"No, no, I mean - your parents. Let me help. Let me be there for you. Please."

Finally understanding that Jack isn't just talking in the broad sense, Bitty squints up at him.

"We've talked about this, Jack, I don't want this just to be about us. I'm gay, and - Lord, I hope this is never relevant - I'm going to be gay in ten years whether we're together or not. And it's important that they understand that -"

"I know, I know, but - just let me be there for you. Please? I can just - hold your hand. Be with you. You can do it on your own but - I just want to make it a little easier for you."

"Oh, honey," Bitty says, relaxing back against the mattress and coaxing Jack to do the same, "you already do."

-----------